sixthiterationlogs | as cuddly as a cactus, as charming as an eel.

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as cuddly as a cactus, as charming as an eel.

WHO: Jessica Jones
WHERE: House 6, House 60, and the road to and from
WHEN: December
OPEN TO: House residents, neighbors and passersby, OTA for starter requests
WARNINGS: Alcoholism, character death mention.

6. Jess pauses outside the home, boot soles sunken into an inch or two of snow despite the path's recent shovelling. She figures she's only ever stumbled up this porch after nightfall, ignored the faded number plaque veiled as it was under shadow. That's not a satisfying answer to her rudimentary question of "what the hell," however, so she must not be directing it at herself. Did Frank pick 6 on purpose? Jess scoffs, not him or at herself or at the house, but at the fact that she's even wondering. If he did, who cares. It's been six goddamn months since he made that call. The reason for which it was made has ceased to matter or she wouldn't be willing to haul her box of crap in as she's doing right now.

She trudges up and in, gravitating towards the living room chair she's prone to pass out in. She sets her box down in it, then offloads the red bag slung over her shoulder on top of it. The box has no lid and is stuffed with clothes; the top layer fades from white to damp blue as the snow melts in the house's eager warmth and abundant light. Sighing, she bellows hot breath from her cheeks onto her bare fingertips. Fingerless gloves could get her through most New York winters but she's finding out that a cold snap in the woods is exponentially less willing to compromise.

Survival on her own is doable, provided she blacks out drinking every day to distract from the misery. Aside from services, favours and good turns deserving of another, none of which she's willing to provide, Jess hasn't worked out the currency around here, nor the booze situation half the time. Tripling down on her drinking problem doesn't seem tenable, as per the law of the conservation of matter. And there's her health to think about, she'd suppose. Instead she thinks about her death, the one she went through already, and how pointless and selfish it was. Freezing herself into a sad Little Match Girl mummy clutching an empty bottle isn't exactly an improvement.

She mills around the house long enough to warm up a bit before heading back out for her second and last round of personal effects (moonshine and a bunch of chocolate bars). Interrupt her at any point during her journey, or come around House #6 later in the day and greet its temporary new occupant.

[ HMU for a closed starter set elsewhere, such as the bunker, the daily lunch or swapping books at the school. ]

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Kamala waits as patiently as she can outside the door. It helps her new tiny friend has come over to see what the fuss is about. Kamala picks up the peacock kitten so she can continue her never ending quest to baby another furry creature. "Time for dinner! So like six or something if you want to be picky." Kamala slips into the Ammi-like no-arguing tone without even thinking about it. She lets the kitten nuzzle her chin while she waits. "Do you need more time to get dressed?"

Jess will give credit where it's due for Kamala keeping herself hallside instead of bursting into the room. Six in winter means there's no sunlight left to filter through the windows and the moon must be low and covered because there's none of its light bouncing off the snow either. Jess stumbles around the unfamiliar room until her palm collides with a light switch.

"Just give me a minute," she responds, the curt edge of it intended for Frank, not Kamala. Why would he put her clothes away? Doesn't he know she's such a mess they've never been put away before? They're probably scared. Or annoyed, like her, at having to share space with Frank's clothes. Is he gonna be coming in here every day or night to get a clean outfit or did he not think that far ahead, like she was incapable of doing until now? Some of her shirts, she's not going to be able to tell apart from his, they're deliberately oversized and dully colored.

Jess gives up on looking for underwear (they're in the unpacked box she brought in last, the above train of thought frenzying her beyond recall. She locates her red scrub pants from her arrival, dragging them on as she steps haphazardly to the door. The front of her shirt is clumsily tucked in while the back hangs loose, and her hair is a half-dried, frizzy mess thanks to static cling and no conditioner. Upon the door creaking open, her befuddled glare lands on the frankencat before Kamala. Really, Kamala. It's nice and all but she could never eat a whole one.

He knows that edge is for him and he takes a gulp of his wine to try and help him digest it. He's the one who told Kamala not to wake her up! Whatever. He's just going to miserably sit at the head of the table and overlook his kingdom. This is what he's earned, right? It could be far worse, all things considered. It's getting more bearable the more wine he drinks, waiting for Kamala and Jessica before he starts in on his meal.

Kamala winces a little at a tone she assumes is for her. Maybe she is being a bit pushy. She resolves to cool down a little lest she drive Jessica away on day one. Jessica's emergence really drives home why she should proceed with caution. The older woman does look a little too trainwreck-y for the teenager's liking. She can guess a lot of it has to do with crashing hard with heat. She's sporting that look a few times to be honest.

"She's our new baby." Kamala explains as if that explains what the heck she is carrying. While she's tempted to lean over and fix Jess' hair that really is too much on day one. Instead she turns in the direction of food and Frank so she can shout a much needed status update at him. "Don't start without us, Frank! We're coming!"

She steals a last second of respite, leaning her shoulder to the doorframe and mouthing a silent "oh my god" to herself. What have you gotten yourself into this time, Jones? Then she drags her feet along the path of Kamala's footsteps, deeper into the dense and delicious aroma of roasted meat. She forgot to clock if she was hungry before. She definitely is now.

Approaching the table, Jess's eyes have almost finished adjusting to the light. She can make out which glass of wine is the fullest and deduce that that setting is reserved for her. "I tried," she grumbles in greeting, setting herself down at the table. Damn these two and their incorrigible liking of her.

"Me, too," Frank admits softly in return, eyes going to either one of their faces as they both sit with him. Seldom, David and himself might eat dinner together. Here, Kamala and he had made more of a ritual of it. But the addition of Jess is more jarring than he anticipated, a memory cutting in deep of sitting at his family's table that night before burning the place down, of asking Karen if their dishes ever made it to the sink. He breathes through it and even musters a tiny smile for the moment, though of course, it doesn't match his tired gaze.

Edited 2018-12-13 22:59 (UTC)

Kamala gently lets her kitten down before heading straight to the sink to wash her hands. She's the last to take a seat which really hammers home how they both look. Yikes tbh. She looks between the two with growing concern. She definitely sounds like her mom right now with this response... or at least the first part.

"You both need to sleep more. You look like me after fighting those evolving killer robots." She shakes her head and drops it so she can pray. She bows her head and folds her hands in prayer. "Bismillahi wa 'ala baraka-tillah." And with that she's gonna dig into this food. She's getting to the wine thing once she's inhaled a decent amount of this fantastic meal.

A deceptively small-starting yawn overtakes Jess and her retort that she was sleeping, Curiously, Jess watches her pray and wonders mildly about the exact translation. Maybe thank you for these gifts and these two on-fire garbage cans on either side of me.

While Kamala digs into the food, Jess dives into her wine to rinse away the hangover-like pall of a deep nap cut short. Jess has two gulps before putting the glass back down, despite a silent oath to herself to not stop until three. It does look like wine but it tastes like stale blood and rotten fruit. A retching bubble rises in her throat, bile crawling up the back of her tongue, and Jess covers her mouth with a hand as she keeps it down. Her face is as confused as it is disgusted.

"Good wine," she croaks insincerely.

He bows his head while Kamala prays then starts in on his meat. He's a lot hungrier than he thought he was too, though it's probably something to do with not sleeping as well.

"Talking to these people feels like fighting evolving killer robots, so." Frank approves of her assessment.

Feeling Bruno nudging his leg, he bends down to scoop him up and lets him sit in his lap while he eats though he knows he shouldn't encourage the terrible creature. He doesn't try to go for Frank's food or anything, just appreciates the virtual furnace that is the man's body heat and curls up on one meaty thigh to sleep just out of view. The wine is another matter entirely. It's only a few months old, so it hasn't truly settled into its own flavor yet. He's so used to drinking it that maybe he's numb to how bad it is - then again, he didn't actually think Jess had standards where alcohol was concerned. The Man in the Hat had much worse shit than this from what he remembers.

"Thanks," is all he says, blithe heading towards cheerful as he takes another bite. Someone's feeling passive aggressive this evening.

Edited 2018-12-14 04:01 (UTC)

She looks sympathetic to Frank's plight. She knows he struggles with the other adults. It's pretty clear that he's gotten a little more of that recently. It isn't even worth asking who it is this time. "That kind of day, huh?" Kamala asks between bites. She makes a mental note to do something fun for them. She always hates to see him extra mopey.

She's contemplating activities when Jessica's reaction takes her by surprise. Awkward, but okay. She's pretty sure Frank wouldn't let her try something super gross especially considering this is definitely a one shot for her. She picks up her glass to drink her much tinier portion. Maybe it's the pairing with meat or different tastes, but she actually kind of likes it. "Hm... I think I'll go with kind of weird in a good way? Thanks, Frank." She'll go back to eating her roast and hoping the kids get along.

Must be a sipping wine. Jess has a third mouthful and then focuses laboriously on her meal. She doesn't like to be watched while she eats, and while she can't tell if she is, she still doesn't visibly react to the taste of the food. He knows how she eats and shouldn't need to hear from her that it's good. She's eating it, after all, and he portioned her the right amount that she might leave her plate clean. She intends to make her way through her meal quietly, though hopefully Frank and Kamala talk between themselves, if that's what's normal for them.

If that's what it is, Frank's doing it wrong because he takes big gulps of the stuff between bites. He does know Jess doesn't like to be watched but all of his focus is on his meal anyway except for all the thoughts bouncing around his head. That's normal, at least. He thinks of something he could tell Kamala she might not know yet, though lately he thinks she probably has a better beat on what's going on than he does.

"Foggy Nelson's here. Uh, he was... my lawyer." When he killed all those people, right. Super weird dinner conversation, Frank. "He had a good idea though. Putting a bell up at the fountain so we know if someone's coming through between shifts." If either of them know him like he's sure they do, he's going to take that upon himself to do since likely no one else actually will, and put off sleeping even longer.

She doesn't actually watch Jessica all that much after the initial reaction to the wine. Kamala still burns a crazy amount of calories like she did back home. The difference between here and there is that this comes from all the walking, projects, animal care, and training with Danny. Most of her focus goes on eating. She and Frank do talk at dinner when they have something interesting to share.

Kamala predictably lights up in interest at what Frank has for her. It's something new about him not to mention an actually good idea. "Wow that was super obvious. I am surprised no one else thought of it before." She washes down her food with her second mouthful of wine. She wonders how much she can safely pry into this. That's not a time in Frank's life Kamala would have cared to know him as he knows. That doesn't mean she's totally uninterested in stuff that isn't directly about the killings.

"So what's your lawyer like? I mean aside from smart and caring. I kind of got that from coming up with good ideas after being kidnapped with no escape plan in sight." Blunt as ever. She digs back into her pot roast, fully prepared to listen to all the details.

Jess hangs lazily from every other word after Foggy Nelson. He's an okay guy, from her shallow research of him (and her even shallower recollection of it). Tops out at okay but there's no need to correct Kamala's impression. His shark suit won't have made the trip and you'd have to be a world class dick to come off as uncaring to Kamala Khan. He can't be too upset about losing his livelihood if it means regaining his best friend. Jess should probably stick to her plan of leaving Matt alone. His life must be nearly impossible to navigate here and that's before factoring in the loss of his super senses. At least he has friends. She's more like a colleague, or a peer he got stuck on a group project with when he'd rather be paired up with the mysterious and alluring ninja assassin.

(Bonus: She gets to avoid Elektra at the same time. Jess really has no clue where to start there.)

Admittedly, the wine and meat add to or subtract something from each other, resulting in an improved bouquet as her meal goes on. Or it's killed off enough of her tastebuds for her to think that. She peers up at her tablemates between slicing her roast into bites, interested in Frank's take on Nelson. He's had the most experience with him, under the least disorienting circumstances. Surely his measure of the man would be the most accurate but she hesitates to give him that benefit of the doubt, sight unseen.

It's Frank's turn to feel eyes on him and he takes an uncharacteristic pause in his meal to scratch at the hairless scruff of Bruno's neck. None of it is easy to talk about, not when he feels like he owes Foggy so much. But against all odds, the man had been decent to him here. It's much more than he expected.

"He is, both of those things." Frank swallows, picking his fork back up but glancing out the window to avoid looking 'into the Sun' as Jess might say about making eye contact with Kamala (or occasionally himself.) "You'd have to be to be Matt's best friend."

Which joins up the loose ends of her first meeting with Matt nicely, probably. He doesn't really think about it too hard.

"He did a lot for me and I was... I was an ass." No surprise there. He takes a pointed bite as he bows his head back over his plate.

She doesn't even pick up on the fact he isn't looking at her. Kamala is too busy being shocked over the fact that Matt managed to con more people into dealing with him. The guy really is something else. "That's his bff?! God, Matt is the luckiest guy ever. How does a jerk like that have so many friends and a pretty girl living with him?! It's crazy!" Safe to say Matt made a terrible first impression considering how heated she is.

She supposes the guy does have some redeeming qualities when he isn't being mean and judgy for the sake of it. People can't be nice all the time as Frank's admission reminds her. She lets out a soft sigh. "Well you have time to make it up to him now. I think if he was willing to defend you back then he understood why you were... difficult. Just don't forget to apologize, okay?" Too many people forget that part when it comes to making amends including her.

She does a poor job suppressing a smile as Kamala rips into Saint Matthew. So the network wasn't their first interaction. Or their worst.

"He really pissed you off, huh?" More than likely over her close relationship to the serial killer at the table but Jess wouldn't mind hearing Kamala go off about it, regardless of what it is. There's never any malice behind her anger, making it easy listening. As far as she knows, Kamala's is a healthy temper, arguably the first Jess has ever encountered. She and Frank are both too old to learn from it but it's a better anchor for the conversation than either of their gloomy, insomnia-wrung dispositions.

Frank snorts at how salty Kamala apparently is too. "He's not that bad." Okay, but like look at Jess. Frank's standards are low. His eyes dart around as he wonders if he should tell them all the shit that happened with his trial. May as well at this point, right?

"I think Foggy's sick of me apologizing." Already. He's been doing that a lot, but... here goes. He sets his fork down again. "When we were in the trial, Matt kind of - fucked off. Yeah, I know. I know I just stuck up for him, whatever, he's still a dick. Foggy was making a case that I needed therapy, you know, padded walls. He thought the jury was gonna go for it, too. But Fisk send me a message through one of my guards. He told me if I ever wanted to know what happened to my family..."

Frank clenches his fists on the table as he realizes it's probably the most real he's gotten about this in front of Jessica. He wants to finish the story out, though. He needs to.

"That I had to get myself locked up, with him. So that's what I did. Sunk the case and almost took down the guy's career with it."

Kamala keeps the next comment about how much she thinks he's a jerk to herself. She can tell they're about to get into a story. Really that's what Kamala had been fishing for from the start. To her credit, she listens quietly. She approves of his multiple apologies especially after learning how Frank had almost ruined his career. She looks visibly uncomfortable at the idea of shoving Frank in a some mental health facility even if he might have needed it at the time. It feel too much like throwing him away somewhere he'd be quiet after everything that happened.

She sighs deeply at the end of it. There's a lot to unpack. "Wow she wasn't exaggerating. Fisk is super manipulative." He totally had Frank's number. She really would have to steer clear if he ever popped up. The seriousness of this fades away once Kamala remembers she's supposed to be mad.

"And seriously this just validates me even more. How did you forgive him for ditching you like that?! And who does he think is mouthing off to you in front of me like he didn't potentially leave you to get executed or something! He's awful!"

Jess knows the other side of the story, the bits slaked from headlines and sensationalist photos and courtroom renderings. After verifying who he was, Jess spent most of her week in New York putting him out of her mind. His sudden throwing of the trial didn't sit right with her but she wasn't going to fall into an investigative rabbit hole over it, not so soon after leaving Kilgrave behind. He was no longer hers to make sense of. Enter Cloneville.

"I'd bet you anything he's the one who took the case," Jess remarks while contemplating her last bite of food. Nelson signing on for the Castle horror show didn't sit right with her either, but it spoke seductively to Matt's magnetism for martyrs. Plus the firm dissolved after it tanked. Awful good thing they didn't crash into each other's lives back then.

"Yeah, sweetheart, Fisk is a real shitstain." But he's not all that worried about Kingpin, not the way he used to be. He laughs a little, just a huff under his breath more than anything, at how heated Kam is on his behalf. It's really not necessary, but he can't help being touched by it anyway. And with Jessica's addition, okay yes, it makes it worse that it was Matt's idea to take his case. It's getting harder to defend Matt in general here now that he's putting it all together "Yeah, actually. Well, I think Karen helped convince him."

But still. Foggy hadn't been keen on the idea from the beginning and Frank could never blame him.

"If they hadn't taken me I would've gotten life anyway, or maybe yeah-" He doesn't want to make light of his own death though he would have done so with zero hesitation before. Kamala's already had to endure that once, he won't be dismissive of it now. "Point is, Foggy Nelson saved my life with absolutely zero help from me." Pity party firmly back on track.

Edited 2018-12-15 05:46 (UTC)

Kamala groans in disapproval. Jessica is probably right. God she wishes she had another excuse to punch him. She'll probably just have to wait for Matt to talk again at this rate. She softens at the mention of Karen's role in all this. It explains a lot for Kamala actually about how things are between them here. There's definitely still a lot of love and loyalty amidst all the ~complication~ as far as Kamala can tell. It had to come from somewhere and what better place than standing by him at a clear low point in his life? "I should have figured that was her part." Kamala notes with a sigh. She pokes at her food in irritation. Since it's Kamala she is pretty quick to get over it once being reminded of the big picture. Foggy is a good guy and they're experienced with all this craziness. There's only one thing they can do now.

"Yeah, we're definitely adding Foggy to our help list now. What else does he need?" She asks if only because she knows Frank. He probably already covered the basics with Foggy and Karen already. She wants to help with the bonus stuff.

Should she have figured that? Whatever. Jess's plate empty, she works on what's left in her glass.

If Nelson can get a bell initiative together, Tony Stark can probably upgrade it to an automated alert system. Or some other techhead with too much time on their hands. There's no shortage of other people to have the idea so she keeps it to herself, along with the opinion that there's merit to the raw arrival experience. Jess obviously preferred it to seeking out familiarity. After getting manhandled by Constance and her flock in Reims, if someone had approached her with a similar speech, she would have bolted in the other direction with nothing but the scrubs soak-sealed to her back.

But she's not normal. Nelson's idea is the safer route, given that not everyone who arrives through the fountain can swim.

Jessica's lack of commentary shouldn't bother him, but he still shoots her an expectant look anyway. He's spilling his guts here! Nothing new there though, either. He sighs and turns back to Kamala, pushing food around his plate rather than trying to finish it off.

"He needs help finding his place here. We were bouncing some ideas around earlier, but you're better at talking people through shit than I am anyway. He's staying with Karen at the Inn if you wanna go see him tomorrow."

Kamala sneaks in a bite while watching the two adults in the room. Yikes. It really occurs to her how might sting a little to talk about such a sensitive time in front of your crush and get nothing out of it. She doesn't do much more than observe. She has zero interest in interfering with romantic affairs given what a disaster her first crush was.

"I can definitely manage that! Just tell me what he looks like since unless he got called a superhero or villain at some point, I don't really know much about him. I don't want to bug people to find out."

Sitting at a dinner table, keyed up for any slight she might make against her partner, is an unforgettable skill, apparently. Like bike riding, except Jess hasn't touched one since she and her brother would ride around the block. At present, she can tell something is amiss and it's because of her. Jess glowers resentfully into her glass as she empties it into her mouth, upended.

She didn't ask for any of this.

"Blonde hair," Jess provides neutrally, glass base thudding gently on the table. It seems she can't win, whether she's saying too much or too little, so who cares. "White guy. Matt's age, they went to college together." That's all the relevant information she has (that she shouldn't, considering her dutiful avoidance of both men in question), divulging to Kamala while concentrating on piling her utensils and plate together so she can take them to the sink. Jess jams the plug in and gets the water running so she can contribute to the meal by wiping all evidence of it from this earth.

Frank immediately feels guilty because no one saw that coming, eyes locked on the table as Jessica gets up. How is this already so fucked up, he literally just didn't want her to die. That was it. Okay, that wasn't it and that's exactly the problem.

"He's friendly," he contributes, probably unhelpfully. A lot of people were, here. At least superficially. He chews his lip before finally looking up to try and catch Jessica's eye, apology and gratitude both laid bare for her to pluck out if she wanted. The thanks is for eating with them, if only because it meant a lot to Kamala. The sorry is for everything else.

She commits the new information to memory. Weirdness between the adults aside, she thinks this went well. Kamala likes having Jess around. It's reassuring to see with her own two eyes she's okay on the daily. The rest the two of them can work out whenever.

"Thanks, guys. I can totally find him based on that." She's going to work on finishing up what's left of her food so she can put her dishes in. She'd remind Frank for the millionth time it's fantastic, but hey. He knows already.

Jess susses out where the soap is and works up some suds in the sink she continues to listen idly. Kamala ushers them towards a good note to conclude on. Neither of them bring up the possibility of the inevitable new arrivals being someone they know, IE care about or fear. Jess has read the previous iteration lists enough times to know Nelson wasn't on there (and as for Elektra, she still assumes that's a pseudonym). She would prefer to discuss that with Frank in private rather than trouble Kamala with it when her birthday is coming up in a couple days.

She returns to the table to retrieve her empty glass, making brief eye contact with them both and mustering a passing, flat sort of smile that's the facial equivalent of small talk.

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as cuddly as a cactus, as charming as an eel.

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