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

[underachievement]

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. ]

Comments

[oorah]

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."

[morphogenia]

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!"

[underachievement]

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.

[oorah]

"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.

[morphogenia]

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.

[underachievement]

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.

[oorah]

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."

[morphogenia]

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."

[underachievement]

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.

[oorah]

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.

[morphogenia]

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.

[underachievement]

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.