championoftime | (no subject)

(no subject)

[Private to Ariadne | Voice]

I would like to secure my inmate a work position in the art room, if you're willing to discuss it with me. [He sounds exhausted, and he is seriously considering also making him work in the kitchen until he proves that he stays clean for a little while.]

[Spam for Arkady]¹

[After putting Jesse away in Zero, the Doctor quickly goes up to the pub and looks around for Arkady. He's calmed down now, considerably. Or at least he's tried to for her sake. He knows she'll be hurt and angry. He can almost feel it, or maybe that's his mind playing tricks on him.

After asking where she is, he leaves Stildyne behind and goes to the back storeroom and closes the door behind him, and then goes over to kneel beside of her.]

I am profoundly sorry for all of this.

[Spam for Jesse]²

[The Doctor stays nearby for much of the night, waiting for Jesse to sleep it off. It's fine for him because he doesn't need sleep, but that means that he's awake for the majority of it. At some point, he doesn't know what level of irritated, angry, or even disappointed that he's supposed to be at.

To be honest, he's almost as disappointed as when he was responsible for the Joker. Because the Joker- if he did something, it could be written off on his near deranged nature quite easily. But Jesse? Jesse's just a boy who should know better. At least when he's in his right mind, he can speak with him more meaningfully.

He goes in again to check on him, gauging his sobriety through the bars.]

Are you going to be needing something for your head?

OOC: 1. Response to this. 2. A follow up to this thread.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Jesse spends a good while raging, well past the point where it's about Mark Hoffman and his graduation. It's the Doctor, the Admiral, the Barge. Himself, obviously. Mr. White, maybe even more obviously. Not that he'd say any of this shit out loud, for the most part: he shouts, but most of it's at the Doctor, about being locked up. He hits the bars again. He doesn't have much to throw, but he does chuck his cigarettes against the wall.

And then, eventually, he wears himself out. Stomach churning as much with emotion as alcohol, he crawls onto the cot and lets sleep take over. Just before he passes out, he remembers something -- a warm voice murmuring in his ear -- and shifts miserably onto his side, pillowing his head on his arm.

He wakes when the Doctor speaks with a horrible groan, bringing up the other hand to clutch his head.]

Jesus...

[The words penetrate after a second and he wavers, thinking as best he can through the muzz. He knows, he already knows, that this is not an option again. But the pain...]

Aspirin. Tylenol. Something. Not...

[He swallows, his voice cracked.]

Edited 2012-04-16 04:11 (UTC)

[He's not brave enough to carry poison against himself on his person, but he does fish a bottle of tylenol out of his fathomless pocket and reaches it through the bars. And since he just wanted him to wear the drunk off, he goes and opens the door itself to let him out.]

I'm already seeing a new job for you. That way in the future refraining from temptation will be a far simpler task.

[That's the start of the list of things he wants to discuss. But practical things for now. He wants those meds to start taking the edge off before he moves on to more important subject matter.]

[He gets up, weak-kneed, to get the bottle, leaning his head against the cool bars when he gets there. He pops two pills, dry-swallowing, and fights hard not to throw them back up again.

And when the Doctor talks about resisting temptation, he shakes his head wearily.]

It's not gonna happen again.

[He closes in his eyes and draws a deep breath, trying to compose just the right thought.]

And we'll work together to be sure of it.

But every time that you do that... [he sets his jaw.] ...you're saying that the thing that irritates you, Hoffman in this case, is more important than the people you need to be better for. Claire and your brother.

You very much can't let them be less important to you. [He at least has a bottle in case he does throw up. He'll get him a glass of water before he escorts him back to his room, just in case.]

[That hits hard, and it hurts just as much as the throb in his head. He looks up sharply.]

Hey -- it's not like that.

[But then he remembers the letter from Jake, the one that said pretty much exactly the same thing. His eyes fall, further protest dying on his lips.]

Isn't it?

[Though his tone suggests that he already knows the answer, and he swipes his hand down his face before heading out of Zero with him.]

I don't expect you to apologize to Hoffman [though that's more a "less contact for the moment, the better" sort of matter] but I would like you to speak with Arkady at some point.

[He'll know if he has to apologize to Claire or not. He's been making efforts not to meddle in the romantic lives of others, even if sometimes he feels as though he should.]

[On that point, at least, he's not going to put up a fight.] She's pretty mad, huh?

I believe so. At the very least she was brought to tears.

[Which he fortunately knows that she knew the risks. He won't get too defensive in her honour. But that she was that upset bore mentioning.]

[Jesse winces. He's not an asshole-- okay, he is an asshole, but not the kind who likes it when girls cry.] Shit. Okay -- I'll go up later.

Ask about... the job, I guess. [He's pretty sure he's fired, but maybe if he's nice enough.] You don't have to find me something else, man. I'm good, I swear. That... [He sighs, digging his thumbs into the inside corners of his eyes.] That's never happening again. Seriously.

You were barely there any time at all before you succumbed to the pressure. If you want to work there in the future, you'll have to have more time. [He pings the elevator.] In the meantime I'm asking for you a position in the art room.

It wasn't-- [He starts to grit out an objection, because the Doctor's got it wrong, but that brings him up short.] The art room?

[Lapses totally count as succumbing. Or so he thinks.] The art room. You seem to like drawing and have some practice at it, so that would be the second best place for you. I've already spoken to the supervisory warden. Her name is Ariadne.

Edited 2012-04-16 10:26 (UTC)

...and what would be the best place? [He's not gonna lie -- maybe it's just because he's still kind of buzzed, but this sounds a lot less like a punishment than he was thinking it'd be. He's in there all the damn time, anyway. Hell, he already has his own key.]

Where you were, I presumed. [He cocks his head at him.] If it happens again I'll have you working in the kitchen as well. At the very least by the time I have you off this boat you'll be credibly skilled to get a legitimate and legal job anywhere.

Nah... art room's fine. [He shrugs, looking uncertain.] I wasn't all about the bar to begin with, I just figured since you'd already hooked it up and all... Me, I don't really give a damn where I go. Not like I'm making any scratch either way.

The experience is so that when you leave, you will be making money. I'm willing to lie on a resume for you but unwilling to exaggerate on the behalf of a novice.

[When the elevator stops he holds the door with his umbrella to let Jesse off first.]

[He doesn't really feel like arguing this point, either, so he doesn't, but he mutters under his breath as he slouches out of the elevator.]

What, my sales background isn't good enough?

[He glances up the hallway and hesitates, tired eyes going cloudy. There's his door down there, 7-6, and that's no surprise, but to get there he's got to go past the blank, anonymous nothing that used to be 7-4, and that just makes him want to start getting wasted all over again. Maybe follow through on that weed Dracula mentioned...

Instead, he clears his throat and glances back at the Doctor.]

Mr. White's gone, by the way.

[There's something intent in his gaze, as if to say: get it now?]

[The Doctor's look is not a fond one, and he has to smear his hand down his face to keep it from setting in too deeply. He continues to walk with Jesse towards his room.]

He may yet get another chance. Some people return, even much longer later. I'm sorry that his absence coincided with Hoffman's graduation, but regardless of your opinions on Mr. Hoffman, he did work for his right to stay or depart the Barge as he likes. His sins are not yours and his progress isn't yours, either.

[But Jesse stops, brow knitting angrily.] And I don't? And he didn't?? No-- he didn't even get a chance to. He was in that coma practically since the day he got here.

[Even at the depths of his apathy, Jesse quietly went to visit Mr. White pretty much every day. He didn't always talk, he sometimes didn't do anything but sit. He almost never touched him, and some days he didn't even go near the guy. But he went every day. Because maybe it would mean something, maybe it would make a difference.

Except, hey, apparently not.]

I've been working my ass off, here, and now I'm still in this shithole and he's-- I mean, he's-- [He looks to the blank door again, distressed.] He's just--

[Dead. Say dead. He inhales sharply, breath shaking a little as he lets it out, and reaches anxiously for his cigarettes, still staring at the door.]

I knew a man that left here twice as an inmate and returned. He was actually not dead.

[But Dallas was.]

You can make a deal for him if you graduate. [But there's things that he knows about that man- Jesse will eventually have to find them out before he can make that decision. Not now, though. Not while he's recovering and volatile.]

But there is still that chance. And rather than looking at it as how unfair the universe is, if Amanda can move beyond her hate, if Hoffman can put forth the effort, then Mr. White might still be alive and even more importantly, even as an inmate you have a chance to change the circumstances of his life and your own because you know this place exists.

I rather think, though, at this moment, that Claire and your friends still here should take priority.

He is. He told me. The... cancer. It came back, and he hid it from me. From everyone.

[He's not oblivious to the irony of what he's about to do, but he lights up a smoke all the same, inhaling hastily and deeply. His heart is beating hard, his head still throbbing despite the pills, and he can't stop staring at the stupid door.]

After everything... everything I did... [With him. For him. He hasn't heard Mr. White's voice in months, but there's still a hole the guy left behind, a pit in his stomach. Some of it is grief, and loss, but most of it is failure.

After everything he did.]

[As irritated as he is, he can tell Jesse is hurting. Somehow. Benny always mocked him for his lack of understanding of human emotions- he understood them enough to manipulate them, but sometimes couldn't identify with them.

But he remembers something. Tegan Jovanka, dying of cancer long ago. He went to see her. He was a different man then- the memory sparks a different emotion than it had before. Rather than profound loss and melancholy, resentment that such a bold, wonderful woman would have to fall to that.]

If you'd like I could stay with you for a while.

[Comfort is something he's never been good at- he hugs easier than some of his other selves. His second and third both being ones to hold people when they needed it as well. But Jesse doesn't seem the type that requires that.]

Edited 2012-04-17 04:34 (UTC)

[That finally gets him to take his eyes off the door and turn to look at the Doctor, and for half a second, his eyes look wet. He blinks rapidly to clear them and shakes his head.]

That's not...

[He's not getting any words out this morning, even though he's dimly aware he said a few too many last night. He sighs and closes his eyes, scruffing a hand through his hair.]

Look, I just-- I have been working my ass off. Since I got here. Since before I got here. You know-- what I did, for him.

And now? For Claire? You keep talking about making sure she knows, but she knows, okay? After everything I've done for that girl?

I know what you did for him.

But I also know any man that would ask someone else to do that to an innocent man, someone who had done him no harm and merely because he was expendable, is capable of doing you harm. What you need to do, you need to do for yourself. The people you care about will benefit from what you do for yourself.

For yourself. For the long term.

Hey-- [He darkens, instantly defensive, the way he always is when Gale comes up. But this time, he doesn't have an argument to make. What is he going to say? That he killed the guy to save Mr. White, when it ended up being worthless, when the guy died anyway? That it's all part of the game? It is, but up until now, he figured the Barge was, too. He thought he had the rules figured out.

Now he doesn't know what the hell is going on.

He grits his teeth, cigarette crinkling as he tightens his grip on it.]

So what am I supposed to do? Huh? None of this shit is fair! I mean, he goes, him that only ever did anything to protect his people -- and me, I get it, I get what I'm doing here, but I'm doing my Goddamn time for what I did. But Hoffman!? Fucking mass murderers make it out -- what am I supposed to do??