blueshit | Inbox for Reparacija

Why

[ Part of him is genuinely curious. ]

Doesn't matter. I do.

cuz i dont wanna go back. shit sucks back home

[ He doesn't mind explaining himself, but he just shrugs when Carver declines to do the same. Maybe he's got his eye on some kinky, expensive sex toy. Whatever it is, it's not Jesse's business. ]

alright cool

well maybe i could help you out? think you get more that way anyway

[ And while casually offering to get freaky with the guy, possibly incorporating some weird-ass kink he's never heard of, might once have been unthinkable, now he's just happy that Carver's talking to him at all after their last encounter. Just guys being bros, right?]

And this is better? Really?

[ It’d be different if he had the others here. They could figure something out, make this place work. But they’re not, and Carver’s alone—and there’s an enemy here who needs to be dealt with. ]

Pick something. Not bondage.

[ He sends a link. None of it particularly gets him going, but apparently somebody decided this is what they all deserve. ]

uh yeah

i got my own place no ones tryin to kick me out of

free food

[ People he cares about, people who seem to like him back. Maybe even a girl. Something real. But he's not about to say all that to Carver, who'll just laugh at him. Instead he clicks the link, now desperately curious to see what it says. He hasn't ever really taken a look at anyone else's sentence, and he wants to see how it compares.

Carver's is...a lot. Some of it just makes Jesse laugh at the mere thought of Carver forced to go through with it. Roleplaying...yeah right. Others are way hardcore. But of course, it's one thing in particular that catches his eye. ]

altered mood?

yknow what that means right?

Your standards are low.

[ Even so, Jesse has a point. There’s food here, plenty of water. No rotters underfoot, no one killing each other over meager, dwindling supplies. Hell, the medical department has actual painkillers — a wonder that Carver still hasn’t quite processed.

But the others aren’t with him. All this means nothing unless he finds a way back to stand at their sides, or to avenge their deaths.

Shaw, though. She’s different. She’s still alive. He had to believe that. ]

I know what it means. You got stuff?

] Carver drinks sometimes. More than he should. But that’s a mistake, and a sin—he cannot lost control of himself.

But he needs credits. What he’s doing with them will be more important. ]

cant argue with results yo

[ Yeah, maybe his standards are low...but so what? He's got everything he needs here. And some things he'd have never thought to hope for or expect. ]

i can get some

[ Between Harley's stash and Wade's? Not a problem at all. ]

you gonna tell me where youre at? or is it some kinda state secret

gonna blindfold me before you bring me back to your fortress of solitude or whatever

You know I can kick your ass with minimal effort, right?

[ Why are people like this? Everyone here's treating this like vacation, a concept that hasn't existed since the world ended, and none of this is normal. It's going to go bad and it's killing Carver just a little on the inside to go on walking around with no one else checking their concerns constantly, obsessively. It makes him feel fucking insane. ]

Pods. The one they assigned me.

[ He's not doing this out in the woods. ]

[ Oh, he knows. But he knows he won't do it, too. After all, Jesse can't get nasty with Carver and help him earn those precious credits if he beats the shit out of him. ]

so am i just knockin on doors then

giving your description to all the neighbors

Assuming no one's blind they already know what I look like.

[ He's just very rarely in the pod he was assigned and almost never sleeps there. But he drops a location pin. Look at him being helpful. ]

[ Jesse just shakes his head. He's starting to think that Carver literally just doesn't know what a joke is. Like maybe they don't have them anymore in his world - because truthfully, Daryl doesn't seem all that familiar with the concept, either.

But whatever. All that's about to change here. He almost can't believe Carver had actually agreed to take mood-altering drugs with him, much less sought him out and given him free rein to pick what he wanted from his sentence. Whatever happens here, it's definitely gonna be interesting. And hopefully fun.

He stops by Wade's on the way, and - you're welcome, Carver - manages to get him to hook him up with a good stash without once mentioning Carver's name. Not that it's exactly difficult. And then he's following the map to that dropped pin, and knocking on Carver's door. This is definitely one pod he'll be remembering the location of. Knowing where to find Carver in an emergency just seems like a good policy, in general. ]

Yo, it's me!

[ Now just to hope this isn't some kind of crazy test or trap. Or that Carver hasn't had second thoughts about the whole thing in the time Jesse took to get here. ]

[ The pods are perfectly serviceable for what they are. It’s possibly the nicest place he’s lived in a long time. Got electricity and running water and everything. But it’s been a long time since he’s lived entirely alone and it puts Carver’s teeth on edge. All the noise, knowing other prisoners are in proximity. He sleeps under the bed most nights, if he sleeps in the pod at all instead of decamping to the woods.

Having a sink is nice, though. He can admit that to himself, even if it is a trap to stove him up. A test to be passed.

Carver isn’t inside when Jesse knocks, though. He’s up on the roof, listening for the approach. And then, matter of factly, he jumps down. He gives Jesse a once over, then shrugs and pushes the door open. He’s disabled his traps, to be polite. ]

C’mon.

[ Jesse spends a fair amount of time on the roof of his own pod, and he knows Daryl tends to hang out up there too, on nights when he can't sleep. But he hadn't expected to see Carver up there. Maybe he should have, though, after finding him on the roof at his party. It probably has good sightlines or something. A good vantage point to spot enemies from or whatever, or it would be if there were actually any enemies here.

He stumbles back a step in surprise when Carver jumps down, enduring the once-over, then grins, trying to convince himself that he's not making a huge fucking mistake here. Carver had asked for this. And him genuinely wanting to earn some credits makes way more sense than him lurking Jesse here to kill him or something, right? ]

Cool.

[ He wanders in after him, glancing around curiously. It looks about the same as his own container, unsurprisingly, if somehow even more bare. ]

Not big on, uh, decorating, huh?

[ There's nothing remarkable about Carver's pod. The bed is made and it's clean, almost obsessively so, but any personal touches he might've added are tucked away. Carefully hidden. Aside from the lack of dust, and a few traps he's since disabled, it looks like no one lives there at all. Exactly as intended. ]

Why would I decorate?

[ What would be the point if that? He pulls the door shut behind him, watching Jesse. Even now, this feels like a mistake. But it needs to be done and there are times - however momentary - that he doesn't hate Jesse's company. And he hasn't tried to kill Carver yet, which is nice. Won't last - never does - but it's nice. ]

I don't sleep here. [ Much. ] But I don't want to get high in the woods.

I dunno. You live here, right?

[ Jesse shrugs. It's not like he'd put a lot of effort into making his own pod nice, either. But it's hard to comment on how nice Carver's place is or whatever if it looks like he'd just moved in half an hour ago. He's just trying to be polite.

Carver does get a curious glance when he admits to sleeping out in the woods. Huh. That's...a choice. But then he mentions getting high and Jesse decides that he can wait on any follow-up questions. Carver's less likely to get annoyed with Jesse questioning him if he's stoned, anyway. ]

Yeah, good call. This...

[ He glances around, taking it in...what little there is to take in. The bed's narrow, but he and Harley have done plenty on one just like it, and they seem to be sturdy enough. It'll do for, well, whatever ends up happening. He doesn't know how soundproof the walls are, but he also figures that a little unintentional eavesdropping is probably about par for the course when you have neighbors in sex prison. He nods faintly in approval. ]

This'll work. You got food? [ He glances back up at Carver. ] Y'know, for munchies?

[ Carver rolls his eyes and goes over to the locker. It's too obvious a hiding spot to keep anything valuable there, which is why his weapons and his actual food cache are elsewhere, but he's got some apples and a tin of brownies he made out of shit he stole from the cafeteria because fuck you, sometimes he likes chocolate and it's been more than a decade since he's had any.

He tosses one of the apples to Jesse. ]

They're not dosed. I checked.

[ Mostly by watching other people eat from the same batch and verifying they didn't start tripping or trying to fuck. ]

Cool.

[ Though maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if they were, considering what they're trying to do here. It would definitely make things easier, get them both going a little quicker. But Jesse knows better than to say that. Carver had seemed pissed after last time, in the rain. Something they're not talking about, apparently.

He catches the apple, glancing at it before nodding and setting it aside. For later, just in case. He doesn't wanna have to deal with trying to make it all the way to the dining hall if they end up starving later. For now, though...He digs in his pocket, producing a little baggie of weed, and holds it up, glancing at Carver. ]

So...party time, huh? [ He grins. He can try to make this light and fun, even if Carver doesn't. He'll relax soon enough, after all. ] You ever, y'know, imbibe before?

[ Party time. Yay. Carver sets the tin down as well and makes an effort not to scowl at Jesse, or the world at large. To make at least a marginal effort at being sociable even if he can’t match Jesse’s energy. ]

Coke. [ It comes out flat. ] Caffeine pills. Wasn’t a good time. Heard weed goes down easier.

[ Coke? Jesse's eyebrows shoot up. Wow. Carver really does know how to party.

He just nods, though, dumping some of the weed out onto the dresser and reaching into his pocket again to pull out rolling papers. ]

Yeah, it does. This ain't nothin' like that. It'll just make you...y'know. Relaxed. [ He flicks his eyes up to Carver, with a small smile. ] We're gonna have a good time.

[ He doesn’t spell out the circumstances of his run ins with cocaine and caffeine pills, or what part of the world the two tended to intersect. If he did, then he’d have to talk about the war and what came after, and that’d probably ruin the mood.

Jesse smiles at him. Open, and something like trusting—like there’s no reason for him not to be. Carver steps forward without a word, watching him close. He’s seen this in movies a time or two, before the world ended. ]

There a trick to it?

[ A trick? Jesse considers that for a moment, expertly rolling a joint at the same time. ]

Yeah, I guess there is kinda. You ever smoke cigarettes? You hold it in a little longer. Here, I'll show you.

[ He passes the joint to Carver, rolls one of his own, and digs out a lighter to light them both. Then he takes a drag, eyes closing briefly in ecstasy for a moment before he slowly exhales. ]

Like that.

[ There's an ease to how Jesse moves then, how he takes a drag and then exhales slow and steady. As the smoke spirals. It's graceful - something Carver wasn't expecting and isn't certain how to take when he sees it. It softens Jesse's face. Like there are no edges to this moment, no threats that need to be countered. Just two people in a room, like the world never ended.

For Jesse, maybe it never did. Not literally, at least.

Carver rubs his thumb against the joint, watching the ashes gather, and then takes a drag. He used to bum cigarettes off of Powell, sometimes. It goes down about the same, except for the warm feeling. That's softer, somehow. ]

Okay.

[ His voice is softer, this time. ]

That's not bad.

It's good, right?

[ It's okay, Carver, Jesse already knows what the answer is. He's already feeling nice and mellow, even though there's no way the pot's kicked in yet. It must be something about the ritual, the familiarity of it.

But he's also keeping a close eye on Carver. He's not too worried about him - if he's done coke and caffeine pills, possibly at the same time, he's not gonna get his shit freaked too bad by a little weed. But Carver can get jumpy, and Jesse wants him to have a good time. Maybe unclench and actually enjoy himself for a minute, if that's even possible. He nods approvingly at the way Carver takes a drag. ]

Yeah, that's it. C'mon.

[ There aren't a lot of places to sit here, so he takes his joint over to the bed, hopping up and settling back against the wall. ]

[ There's a moment where Carver pauses, eyeing Jesse with a familiar suspicion. Looking for the angle, for the trick, for the knife that's about to sink into his throat. But there isn't one. It's just Jesse, expression open and honest, and his eyes - which are so fucking blue even when Carver's not tripping off his gourd.

He takes another drag and then, very gingerly, he sits down on the bed next to Jesse. It's big enough that they aren't touching, but only just. ]

You do this a lot?

[ Jesse nods, raising the joint to his lips again. There's no point in hiding it. Who he is, how he spends his time. He's already in prison, after all, and Carver doesn't seem like the type to rat him out anyway. ]

Yeah. Weed, crystal sometimes.

[ He glances over at Carver. Sitting next to him on the bed. He still looks a little stiff and uncomfortable, but hey, it's progress. ]

You had a rough time with the coke, huh?

[ His tone is understanding - sympathetic without being patronizing. Sometimes a hit just goes bad. It sucks that it had happened to Carver. ]

[ Crystal. That’s crystal meth, right? Carver’s eyebrows go up but he doesn’t sneer at Jesse for it. Maybe they’re beyond that now. Carver’s starting to feel a little warm, maybe. Not settled, but—

Getting there. Maybe. Or at least not quite so likely to startle if Jesse moves too fast.

He snorts at the question, taking another drag. ]

I got shot. Armor took the worst of it. Didn’t feel a thing until I came down. Probably would’ve been worse with meth, though.

[ He imagines, anyway. The come down wasn’t fun. ]

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