nysalogs | Trust is earned, not given

Entry tags:

Trust is earned, not given

Who: Jessica Jones (

assholic) & OPEN
What: April's catch-all
When: Beginning of April until at least the 21st (likely also usable for log threads from the event)
Where: Wyver; The pubs, her home with Clark, the arenas. Thesa Station; Visiting the pods to check on her people, the bars.
Warning(s): As this post will also be available for the memory share event, there is a possible warning for discussions and/or graphic descriptions of sexual assault and violence. I'll update which threads need to be warned for. Usual warning of language and possible sexual content. Update: Jessica/Brock's thread has a cw for sexual assault memories.

I: Thesa Station
[When the whole idea of living rustic got a bit too much for her, or when she just wanted to stop feeling like she was being judged or watched by everyone in Wyver, she headed up to the station. She figured she'd get in as much time there as she could, considering how long they'd been locked out from visiting before. Their tech seemed to be iffy at best. Plus, they had better alcohol there that she knew wasn't laced with anything magical, and that right now as an immense bonus.

There was also Trish, and lately, Jess had a lot to talk to her best friend/sister about, and it was killing her that she wasn't there, wasn't really there to give her advice. Or laugh at the shit she'd gotten herself into.

So on Thesa Station, Jessica could be found either hanging around Trish's pod, drinking herself into a stupor, or heading to sleep it off in a corner/cot/room. There's also the wildcard option, if none of those fit.]

II: Wyver
[Despite wanting not to, she still lived in Wyver. She had people down there she gave a shit about, and despite part of her thinking they'd be better off without having to deal with her shit, there was too much going on right now for her to think about leaving them. No one was safe on the planet. Not in either town. But for the moment, even after her... ordeal, she was sticking with Wyver.

That choice might have something to do with the person she lived with, but she wasn't about to tell him or anyone else that.

In Wyver, Jessica could be found working at the Arenas for money to burn, trying to avoid the odd accolades some shops were giving her because of the ring she'd been seen with in public before stuffing it in her pocket, drinking herself into a stupor, and trying not to get herself into more shit than she was already in. That might be a tall order. There's also a wildcard prompt if none of these suit.]

III: Memory Share - (CW: Potential mention of sexual assault/trauma/violence with some of Jessica's memories)
[As if what she'd gone through hadn't been enough, now she was seeing other people's thoughts? Or... memories. The whole thing played like a VR snippet of someone's life, and she felt a growing sense of dread that the next bubble she got caught in would be her own instead of someone else's -- a fact she was bothered by enough considering the immense invasion of privacy that it was, one that crossed a line beyond snooping and taking pictures of someone in the act. This sincerely bothered her, and for the duration of the event, she would be very... unsettled.

(As a large lump of memories from Jessica's canon/past deal with sexual assault/violence/drug abuse, I'd like to make sure anyone who'd like to play with one of her memories is fully understanding of the scope of them and to double check on what people are comfortable with. Please PM or PP me (

junglewere) if we haven't already talked about it or it's new CR, or just to make sure we're all on the same page and no one is made uncomfortable or upset by anything threaded.)

This can be a prompt for either people to come across her memories, or her to come across others. Or, there's a wildcard option if you'd prefer.

IV: Wildcard
[Wildcard in general. If none of the other options are what you'd like or you have a specific scenario in mind, please feel free to write your own starter or msg me for specifics if you'd like.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She was going from cashing in from a recent transport job to the Outpost to what was now becoming 'her' favored tavern. Somewhere close enough to home that she could get there when she was completely shitfaced, but not so close that Clark might overhear her being a loud, ranchy asshole when she felt so inclined.

Not that she knew just how good his hearing was, but... hey. A girl had to plan.

It was the name that had her knowing who she'd see when she turned to look more than the voice that said it. Not many people, if any, called her Jones. Last names were a military thing, and there weren't that many military or ex-military that she hung around with. Less so here.]

I thought you were still in Olympia.

[Well, she didn't enter into the conversation punching him, so that was something. He caught up with her when she turned to look, offering a rakish grin as a way of greeting as he shrugged his shoulders. There were honestly a few people up in Olympia that could not see anything that was in his head, so he came here on the off chance that any of his shit was revealed to the world at large.]

Too much shit going on; too many people who would love to use what I know against me if it got out. [Or at least that was his opinion. Some aspects of being a spy happened to come with an air of paranoia of 'do they know?', but it was a matter of keeping on a game face at all times.]

Got time for a drink, or are you going home to play housewife? [His smirk grew because needling her was always fun.]

Is it happening over there to? Fuck.

[She'd been jumpy ever since she'd first seen three people standing and staring at each other in horror. And then she'd walked into her first memory share bubble of hell. Thankfully, it hadn't been hers. And all things considered, it hadn't been that bad, but it let her know just what was at stake and how possible it was that people she didn't want to see her shit might do just that. And Jessica had a lot of shit that she didn't want seen.

Then again, she'd come across one bubble that had been... nice. Some memory the baker she'd gone to get a loaf of bread from was having about the birth of his son. She'd oddly felt more intrusive on that memory than on most of the others. Personal shit was personal for a reason.]

You keep having this weird fantasy of me doing shit that requires girly outfits and a little feather duster. I will literally buy one to shove up your ass.

Yeah, started when some part of the Storm came through with the newbies. I don't know much about it, but I'd prefer to keep well away from anyone who knows me.

[If it was all the shitty memories and not ones where there was victory or happiness, he was definitely out. He had come to accept a lot of his baggage for what it was, and it helped that he had been taught necessary skills to keep it from affecting his life. However, it was still shit people could use against him, and he'd rather it be a random stranger.

He wasn't so certain he was keen on Jones being involved though. She tended to reveal more of herself than he revealed of himself, and he liked to keep it that way. Vulnerability wasn't one of his strong suits.]

Naw, you'd be a horrible housewife. You don't seem like you're the type of person that owns enough shit that needs cleaning anyway.

I think you think about what type of person I am too much for my comfort.

[She kept walking, strides taking her through the crowd towards the tavern that was nearest the water. She didn't know why, but she liked that one best. Maybe it was the sound of water in the river going past it that reminded her most of city traffic. Maybe it smelled like despair and failure like most of the shitty dive bars from back home. Either way, it was steadily becoming 'hers'. They accepted that she was a little weird, but she always paid for what she drank and what she broke. With the owner having seen the ring she'd been mulling over one night before cramming it in her pocket, she occasionally got extras, but he'd learned not to make a big fuss over her.

It was the little things that mattered, really.]

So why aren't you out in the woods somewhere, playing Rambo and waiting for this shit to pass?

Well, you're an interesting person, so I like to think about interesting people.

[He followed her lead, since he had never actually been to this place before and while he was perfectly comfortable wandering about on his own, he suspected that she would take him somewhere that he could backtrack from and get his bearings around. He had no doubt she was taking them to some place that was out of the way where she could drink like a fish and forget this whole nonsense with memories too. He might consider doing it himself if it would allow him to avoid everything that was happening.

Her question earned a snort of amusement from him.]

Because I'm not a coward? Plus, some random stranger gets a look-see and it means nothing. Plus, it's easier to blend into a city rather than the woods.

Yet you came over to bug me, and I'm not a stranger. Hell of a risk, Rambo. What if I see that time you helped an old lady cross the street, or saved a kitten orphanage that was on fire? Then I'll know what a pile of soft shit you are and I'll never unsee it.

[Okay, the images amused her and she snorted a laugh at that, picturing Brock in some SWAT gear, all decked out, arms full of kittens.]

Well, that's easy. You throw all the kittens in pillow cases and load them out like you're Santa Clause. Of course, if you want me to leave you alone, all you have to do is say so.

[At least she was amused by her own imagination. That was more than usual, and it seemed to bleed some of the tension out of her as well.]

Bullshit. If I told you I wanted you to leave me alone, you'd just 'happen' to be going where I was, then sit just in my eyeline so I'd have to see you all night.

[She was guessing, but Brock didn't seem the type to give up easy. She'd had the marks on her to prove it.

They got closer to the inn, and she paused by the side of it, looking down the length of the building, seeing the way the shadows were starting to get darker as the sun began setting.]

Kitten Claus sounds like a holiday stripper.

I notice you aren't actually telling me to get lost.

[He could be far more subtle than he usually was with her, mostly because being in her eye sight was most likely to annoy her. However, he was more than willing to slip away and remain in the shadows. It wasn't as if she needed any kind of protection after all, but she was the only person to give shit as much as she took.

He smirked and snorted at her words, looking down the darkening alley. It looked like a great place to be knifed in the back, so he was naturally game.]

We know that actually exists. Bless the internet.

I bet that's your secret kink. Girls dressed up like kittens begging for some cream...

[The smile was still on her lips when it happened. When there was a sudden shifting. The building, the ground, the alley, it all changed. She looked up at him in surprise, eyes darting around to see who else might be around. Whose memories were they going to be caught up in?

Just them. Just the two of them, and that didn't exactly bode well.]

Shit.

[It took a second for her to place what she saw. She liked to tell herself that she'd made herself forget everything. That she'd put it behind her. That it wasn't even a memory. What was showing up around them proved that to be a lie.

It was a room. A nice, extravagant room. Only the best for Kilgrave, after all. She stood there, looking at a slightly younger version of herself, and she cringed. She was naked. Naked and standing there with a vacant look on her face, like some kind of android doll waiting for an order to leap into action to perform.

Kilgrave was there, lanky and mostly dressed. His shirt was open, belt undone, and he had that look in his eye. There was another girl in the room, and Jessica mentally used the word 'girl' on purpose. She couldn't have been older than seventeen. Seventeen and shoved to her knees, Kilgrave's mouth opening to tell the poor redhead that she wanted to undo his pants, she wanted to put him in her mouth. The vision of Jessica started to look away.

"No. You watch. You'll watch it and you'll stay right there."

So she did. She watched and she stayed, her hands curling into fists, nails digging into the flesh of her palm so that a trickle of blood dripped down onto the carpet.

Kilgrave liked to toy with her. It wasn't enough that he made her do what he did. He had to bring others into it. Had to make her do things. She never knew just what flavor of thing she was going to wind up doing until it left his mouth. "Don't you hate it, Jessica? You do, don't you. You hate seeing someone else touching me. She doesn't deserve me. Not like you do."

Jessica stood there, watching a look of pure hatred come over her face, a look she knew should be directed at the man with his dick in some teenage girl's face, but it was directed at the girl instead. "Make her stop, Jessica. Make her hurt."

Even though she knew it was futile by now, she stepped in, tried to block the vision of herself from marching over, but it was like she wasn't even there. The memory of her went over to the girl and dug her hands into that head of blazing hair. Blood mingled in with it; red on red, and she reached down to grab the girl's wrist. She barely squeezed, barely touched her, but she could feel the echo of those bones breaking in her hand as she heard it in the memory.]

Goddammit...

[At first, Rumlow felt the quiet surge of potential panic when the air around them shifted, when the alley that could have been anywhere or no where in particular seemed to freeze. This could very well be his own memory he knew, that they were in close enough proximity where so many nights started for him just like this: in dark forgettable places, but the scene shifted as it always seemed to when memories were going to become scenes for people to watch like they were in a 3D interactive mission.

It was selfish to feel a sense of relief when the room that came up around them wasn't a place he recognized, wasn't anything out of his head. It was her memory, but there were some scenes better left to be described in passing, not experienced like this.

He recognized Kilgrave from the frozen guy, and he could already tell that he wasn't going to like this guy one bit. Even the way the guy spoke and moved subtly made it very clear why there was a kill order, but he found it odd to watch as anything the guy said was like a command that neither woman could resist. They simply snapped to it, even if he was certain that if given the choice, both of them would be dressed and out of this room so fast.

His expression was neutral, sealing away any emotions or judgments that he might be making about the scene that was playing before him. He crossed his arms over his chest, perhaps the only physical indication that he didn't agree with anything that happened to be going on here.]

I can see why you wanted him fired into space to never wake again.

Killing him once wasn't enough.

[Twice, by her count, since she'd thought he'd been dead that first time. She watched as the redhead drew off of Kilgrave's still erect cock, hissing up at her. And Jessica picked her up and threw her through the wall into the next suite.

Kilgrave laughed. His hands clapped together as Jessica moved to walk over to where the dazed girl lay, cradling her hand. "Yes. Yes! I love a bit of sport. No, no, not you idiots."

The tenants of the other room were making a fuss now, coming over to try to stop Jessica from walking into the debris to reach for the girl. "You stop. Go stand in a corner and wet yourselves. This doesn't concern you."

Jessica's foot came down on the girl's calf, snapping another bone and grinding it into the carpet. She woke up enough to scream, and that had Kilgrave's nose crinkling as he grimaced. "Shut that caterwauling. Completely unsexy. Ruining the whole mood. Jessica... Jessica... Come here, darling."

She knew what was happening, even if she wasn't watching it. It made her skin crawl just to hear that sibilant hiss of her name.]

Don't watch.

[Because unlike him, she knew what came next. The memory of her stopped grinding her foot through the girl's leg, looking up at Kilgrave with a mix of emotions in her eyes. Even then, she wanted to break his neck, but she couldn't. Oh, but she wanted to.

"Come here, my lovely little beauty. Come here and show me how much you want me. And you do. You're already wet for me. Wet and eager and you want to beg for it. Beg me for it, Jessica. Tell me you want me."

Anyone with a brain could see exactly what Kilgrave wanted. Adoration. Love. Lust. And he didn't care how he got it. Naked, her image-self went over on her knees, crawling through the debris, cutting up herself since she might be strong, but she wasn't impenetrable. "I need you, Kilgrave. I want you. Please, please, please..."

And that was one of the worst parts. Hearing that longing and adoration in her voice. That need that she remembered clawing at her as she bled across the carpet on her way over to him, clasping him around his waist and rubbing her face against his cock, begging for him to rape her all over again.]

[The violence didn't bother him, of course. Why would it? He was no stranger to the kind of violence that came with these kinds of close-quarter antics, and it was telling of her strength that she brutalized a teenager for no reason other than because of the command of a man who clearly had no moral compass aside from selfish want and need. This was the kind of guy that Project Insight was designed to put an end to, the kind of asshole that needed to be stopped without even knowing what was coming to them.

He certainly didn't shy away from the scene, nor did he make any attempt to participate even with moving around it. She crawled across the broken debris close enough that he could have bent a knee and brushed her side had this been anything but a memory of a time gone by. So he let her go, let her beg because it was clear that this had already happened.

It was more of a dishonour to it shielding himself. So he turned and watched, face still impassive and now it made way more sense why she was such a salty defensive asshole. He recalled how she can called him out on his words with broken knows broken, and while their experiences weren't like this, they were similar enough in the intention that he thought sharing some of his own memories here wouldn't be so bad. Not with the shit she had seen and endured.]

How long did he control you for?

[It didn't stop there, of course. He made her beg, because he had to have someone wanting him. Always. And then he ordered her onto the bed, bent over, face to the side so she could still talk. So she could still tell him how much she wanted him. How she needed him. How she loved him.

And Trish wondered why she had problems with that word. Even before Kilgrave, it had always stuck in her throat. He didn't even bother taking his pants off as he draped himself over her and thrust into her, telling her what to say to him, telling her how to like it, that she liked it, when to come. That was the part she'd always hated most. That even when she wanted to claw her own skin off and burn it, he could just tell her she wanted it, that she was going to orgasm, and she did. That had been one of the harder parts to get past when she'd finally tried to reclaim her life after. Making herself believe that she hadn't wanted it. That it had been him, not her. But only someone that had been through it, who'd been told to do something they would never do and they did without hesitation could understand.

Trish hadn't. Not really. Not until after. Jeri sure as shit hadn't.]

Just over a year.

[Because listening to herself begging him for more, telling him his weak little limp dick was the biggest she'd ever had was making her want to smash her face into a wall. She turned to look at Brock, who was watching the whole thing with this impassive face that she couldn't gauge.

At least he didn't look like he was enjoying it or getting off on it.]

I thought he was dead. He wasn't. Came back and fucked my life up again. And then I broke his neck. And yet he's still up there in that fucking pod.

Edited (lettering) 2018-04-12 03:13 (UTC)

[Over a year of this kind of garbage? He watched the scene carry forward, getting a far better sense of what this Kilgrave fellow could do, though he had no idea how it could happen. HYDRA never had anything like this, though mind control was something they were keenly interested in, of course. Their methods were far more surgical and brutal; there was a disgusting eloquence to simply having an order followed.

Like who seriously went to stand in a corner and piss themselves? And the girl not even able to cry despite having her bones ground to dust? And Jones there getting taken like she were a bitch dog in heat, begging like she was in love when he could see the part of her he knew better lurking in there, unable to reach the surface.

That made it even more disgusting in his mind. She was present but not in any control. She was powerless, and that let him more about her than any of their conversations ever had.

The scene wasn't interesting, not really. He had seen his share of rape videos to get the blood stirred up for an international raid. She had no choice; she did as she was told. No wonder she drank herself into oblivion and snarled about therapy being a waste of time; no one would believe a story like this. He told me to, controlled me, and I couldn't do anything about it. No binding but the asshole's word. She would be called cray-cray in no time.

Here's your pill, you'll be numb soon then we'll talk.]

You eviscerated him the second time, right? Left nothing but little pieces, 'cause if it was someone I knew, I wouldn't stop at a broken neck. Just sayin'.

Getting him to shut up was the main objective. He'd... made it worse. Gotten his dad to extend his abilities. Killed him too. The guy's a real fucking winner.

[She tried to look at all of this as impassively as he had, but it was impossible when there was a part of her that remembered this too vividly. The way his belt buckle had dug into her side, the scent of his skin, his breath, the grunting little sounds he made just before he came. Knowing that there were trickles of him that would leak down her leg when she stood up and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it until he told her to clean up.

She wanted to hurt him. Not kill him again, because death was too good. Too easy. She wanted to rip his jaw off and just spend the next lifetime making him as miserable as he'd made everyone he crossed.

It took her a second but she remembered was what coming next, and somehow, that made it worse.]

Shit. Shit. No... We have to get out of here. I don't want to follow this shit around forever.

[They didn't have long. Kilgrave was getting close to his climax, and it was after that that was the worst part. Her eyes darted around, Jessica moving from wall to wall to look for something 'off'. Something she could break through.]

Help me find the... whatever the fuck it is that we can break to get out of here.

I can see that.

[Rumlow had a lot to think about his old man, but even that guy didn't hold a candle to this kind of behaviour. This guy should have had his tongue removed a long time ago and spent plenty of time in a prison where the inmates were highly likely to take special care with that skinny ass. No one liked a rapist, least of all a child rapist. They always managed to get their own in the end, but this just seemed... like even an agent HYDRA would consider a threat.

He watched, not because he wanted to or because he found it fascinating or interesting but because in his mind, looking away wasn't an option. It was a disrespect for the trauma she had endured, and he might be a complete asshole, but it didn't mean he was a coward in any sense.

However, he was drawn from watching at the sudden urgency in her voice, something that drew his eyes to her as she began to move. Whatever was coming after this little scene clearly had her spooked, and he shrugged his shoulders as casually as he could. He began to move in search of the glitch in the scene, the one little spot that they could use to dissolve it or change it or whatever might happen.]

How much time do we have? [His fingers moved in search, his eyes scanning for any little detail that might give the flaw away. The problem was it wasn't his scene so he might not realize something was out of place.]

[She heard that drawn out grunt of her name behind her, signaling he'd come and making her especially happy that she'd opted to get an IUD long before ever meeting him. God, if she'd wound up like Hope...

But she didn't want to think about that. She just started pushing at walls, kicking things -- or trying to. Her foot went through a piece of debris, and she hissed at it as she swung and landed on her ass.]

Not long.

[She couldn't help it. Her eyes went to the girl on the ground and she felt bile start to rise up in her mouth. All the people he'd hurt. All the shit he'd done, and she'd tried so hard to forget it. To forget what she couldn't do to help any of them.

All because she'd tried to be one of the good guys and had caught his attention.]

[He heard the sound of the porn scene coming to an end, but he didn't bother to look over. Guys all looked the same anyway: all proud of themselves, looking for approval but mostly just proud. As far as he was concerned, they could move on from this entire scene and he wouldn't complain about it.

Of course some memory sharing events seemed to go on longer than others. Some repeated themselves. It was kind of painful.

He worked methodically from one part of the room and searching. He wasn't in any sort of panic, and he kept a cool head. He locked down any emotions that he might have on this entire scene because it wasn't going to help either of them. His fingers slid over walls, debris all in search of that little piece that would allow them to break it.]

Do I need to be warned about what is coming next?

Worried about what? It's a memory. It can't do shit to you.

[But it could to her. This particular one was going to feature heavily in her dreams for the next week or so. She could already feel it. Pushing up to her hands and knees, she scrambled to try to look under the bed, but she couldn't lift the covering on the side.

And then she heard the knock on the door. Her entire body tensed.

"Room service."]

Fuck.

[She wanted to be out of here before the next bit happened. Living through it once while under his influence had been bad enough. Watching it like this? She was remembering things she'd rather forget. Like the fact that Kilgrave looked so happy at the sound of someone new to play with, or how there was a quiet sobbing coming from the couple that were standing in the corner of their own room with wet patches on their pants. Or how the girl was still trying to cry, but couldn't make a sound.]

But it can do shit to you.

[It was her memory after all, and he wasn't particularly interested in her experiencing it and then flying off the handle at him. That would just ruin or at least taint his Wyver experience, and he hadn't even seen a dragon yet! How unfair would that be? He had to ask about dragon dick just to see how badly it would go over.

Of course, the call of room service drew him from searching, and he automatically looked over to Kilgrave. That was the power player here, and what that guy decided was likely to be rather awful if Jessica was scrambling to find a way out before all of this went down. He still watched Kilgrave like the guy could be an actual threat to them, even if he hadn't had a dream actually affect him physically.

So, he looked over at the Jessica who was still searching for a way out of this memory. He wondered if knocking her out was an actual option.]

It's already done shit to me. Can't do it twice.

[That was a lie, and they both knew it. She kept crawling around, looking for anything out of place. Any odd crack or warping that she could beat at to get them out of this. The only place she hadn't gone yet was near the girl, and she had a feeling that's exactly where the damn thing was going to be.

Which left her with the choice of hunting for it and being close to what was about to happen, or waiting until it was over and trying not to think about killing herself again. That was always an option.

"Come in, come in," Kilgrave called from the bed, watching the door open as the man behind it came in with a trolley laden with the meal that had been called down for earlier. He stopped when he saw the hole into the next suite, and the blood on the light beige floor, the trail leading over to a girl that seemed to be likely to lose her leg and who was crying without making a sound.

"Shit... Shit! Jesus, what the fuck are you guys doing?" Jessica was still draped on the bed, Kilgrave not having told her to move, so there was an indecent shot of her crotch and ass for the guy to see, Kilgrave's pathetic limp dick wilted against his still open pants. "I'm calling the cops."

"No, you're not. You're going to come in here and bring my tray over with you. Jessica," he called, slapping her soundly on the ass to get her to move, "you're going to feed me. I think it's time for dinner and a show. You think so too, don't you?"

The memory of her rolled to a sitting position, face blank as she nodded. "Yes, I do." She watched as the man brought over the trolley as ordered, staring at both of them like he was losing his mind. The memory of her and the current version of her both felt sorry for him.]

Help me look over here. By the... this mess.

[He wasn't going to say outright that was a lie as it wasn't worth the fight that came with it. He couldn't commit to being interested in seeing the outcome of this scene, already imagining that it was going to be rather gross and make him even more committed to the idea that Kilgrave was on the universal sniper list for a good reason.

He kept searching as it was worthless not to, but he wasn't finding anything his way. He moved around to where she called to his attention padding to where she was searching while watching the scene unfold. It was a mess where she was searching, which might have been the best lead for them.

He fell into a crouch and began to search with her, glancing over to keep an eye on the scene so that nothing came their way.]

[The guy's eyes kept darting over to the girl on the floor and the pool of blood seeping into the carpet around the mess of what had been her leg. Jessica had looked her up after... After. She had lost the leg, but that had been the least of her problems. She'd been in a mental institution when Jessica had finally tracked her down. The guy hadn't fared as well.

"You like what you see," Kilgrave said to the man standing there nervously in his uniform, his eyes snapping back to Kilgrave and pointedly not looking at the girl again. The words weren't a question, and it made the guy nod his head.

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

Jessica sat there with that blank look on her face, waiting for the next order from Kilgrave. "Of course you do. You love it. In fact, you're rock hard at the thought of it."

On the floor by the girl, Jessica remembered watching with sympathy as the man had gotten a sudden and painful erection as he turned to stare at the girl on the floor. Poor idiot. Guy was just doing his job and he got dragged into this shit. Killing Kilgrave hadn't been enough. Not with what he'd done and to how many people he'd done it to. As much as she hated that his blood was on her hands, she wished she could do more. Make him suffer.

She was shaking her head, knowing what was coming next and trying to find--]

Here.

[There was something along the crack of the wall between the suites. A small crinkle that she could feel as she ran her hand over it.

"I bet you haven't had a good fuck in ages, have you? I see a ring on your finger. Old ball and chain probably locks her goods away. Headaches. Or maybe it's just shriveled up. But you've got a lot of pent up repression. And that little tart there is just the one to take it out on. She was very naughty earlier. She clearly needs a father figure to show her the error of her ways." Kilgrave prodded at Jessica, gesturing to the trolley. "Well? Bring it over and feed me? I'm hungry."

She didn't need to look to know that the man was already reaching for his belt, staring at the redhead who was still crying silently, cradling her broken wrist and trying to wriggle out of the mess of debris she was in.]

Here, for fuck's sake. Help me.

CW: This thread will contain graphic mentions of sexual assault and violence.

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