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

"What today? One so far. I have another one coming up in a bit. Figured I'd take a breather, get a little buzz on." There was a bottle on the ground between her feet, one she picked up and took a sip from. She held it out to Dany, figuring she'd be turned down. "This isn't the city you freed. This isn't my world, either. Way back in our history, we had coliseums. Gladiators versus lions or some shit like that. Seems no matter where you go, people are bloodthirsty assholes."

"The shamans would suggest otherwise." She takes the bottle, regarding it for a moment. It doesn't look or smell like wine; in fact, taking a sniff has her nose wrinkling. But Jessica drinks, and she would drink as well. It wasn't dragon's blood, at least. "As would the cities."

She nearly chokes on what she swallows, making a noise as she reaches up to press her fingers to her lips. Down, it will go, burning all the way. Her eyes water.

"What is this?" she asks, handing the bottle back. "Your people killed lions?"

"The shamans can suck my dick," she shot back, watching Dany almost choke on the small sip she'd taken. She took the bottle back with a smirk, taking a longer sip with no wincing to go along with it. That should give the dragon queen a bit of her measure.

"Whiskey. Not the best kind, but it's got a nice kick. And... yeah. Sort of. Sometimes. Depends on if they decided to give them anything to fight with or if they just threw them in for a good mauling. It was about a thousand or so years ago, but now we just have MMA and cage fights to make up for it. Guess there's no such thing as actual civilization without a little blood."

"Whiskey," she repeats, ignoring the comment about sucking dicks, as well as that smirk. They were dead; they'd be sucking nothing, now. "It's meant to taste that way?"

She watches the ring, the new match about to unravel. Something distant enters her eyes. It's near impossible to not compare this to Meereen. Even if she sits not on a dais, but nearer to the combatants. Half expecting to find a master commanding those awaiting battle, she instead finds a more relaxed atmosphere. Camaraderie amidst some of the Wyver citizens.

"Did you fight like this as well in your world? Even against a lion?"

"It's meant to taste better. This is a cheap knock off someone taught the natives how to make. Good whiskey, real expensive whiskey is smoother. Like vodka, but with more of a ki-- wait. You probably have no idea what vodka is either. Or gin. Or tequila. Uh...," she took another sip, thinking. "Wine. Think of it as wine. There's shitty boxed wine that costs next to nothing but will get you drunk. Then there's really great aged wine that people took care to make. This? This is the equivalent of boxed wine."

Leaning back a little, she felt she was getting the hang of trying to explain things in ways that people not from her time or her world might quite get. She might be failing, but hey, at least she was trying.

"Me? Fuck no. I tried to avoid fights. And the lion thing died out with the coliseums. Cruelty against animals and all that shit. Can't hurt the murder kitty. Which, hey, I agree with. Lion didn't do anything to deserve getting tossed in a ring and slashed at. But this kind of thing... nah. Anyone with abilities tried to stay low unless they were part of some initiative or something. I just used to follow people and be a snoopy shit."

She's not quite sure what boxed wine would be like, either, having only ever seen these things in caskets; nevertheless, the explanation helps. Quietly, she considers the bottle Jessica holds. It's a cheaper quality, essentially. Not like the richer wines of the Keep, where those truly skilled took care to produce vast quantities of it.

"Do you know how to create the good kind?" If not, she thinks she will ask around. It's worth exploring further, if this is the sort of drink Jessica's forced to consume. "That makes sense, though. We don't have boxed wines, but there are certainly kinds that are... not as enjoyable."

They're disgusting, is what she's trying to say.

"What sort of abilities?" She wonders what someone like Cersei Lannister would make of her house sigil being equated to a 'murder kitty.' "To my knowledge, Westeros had no fighting pits. But there were events where knights could joust for the entertainment of many. Ser Loras would likely be able to tell you more of that, if you were interested."

"I buy it, I don't make it. My roommate does the brewing when he feels like it. He makes a hell of a moonshine." She couldn't help it. Even just thinking of Clark had a secret little smile tipping up the corner of her mouth. Goddammit, she was such a moron over that loser.

Jess can hear the tone, though. She knows that upper crust snobbery when she hears it. Some people can't help it. She supposes that it makes sense if you spent your life being told you were a queen or king or emperor and suddenly you're here and told it doesn't matter. Facts don't erase a lifetime of experiences.

"Depends. There's a doctor that gets pissed off and turns into a green monster that can break anything. Another guy's some god of thunder that can fly and call down lightning. I had a friend back home who was bulletproof and super strong. Me?" She shrugged. "I'm stronger than I look and some twist of fuckery here lets me fly. Whoopee for me. But it makes for a good show. I've met Loras. The sword swinging kid. He sticks to the weapons arenas and does pretty good for himself, from what I hear."

"You mean Clark." Dany misses the smile, watching the next match as it begins with a frown. "He's a good man."

She's not Tyrion; she won't drink wine if it's of poor taste, lest it's offered to her. And then, it's only so as not to be rude. Even so, she's wary of accepting it from strangers, ever since that attempt by the Usurper to poison her whilst she carried child.

"A green monster?" That, out of all she lists, seems the hardest to imagine. Men strong enough to withstand blows? She could see that. And a god is a god--none she's ever met, but it seems less impressive. "I'm glad to hear he does well. He deserves it, after all that occurred."

Finally looking away from the match, she lifts her brows at Jessica.

"You couldn't fly in your world?" ANd if there's a note of wistful yearning, Dany makes no show of acnkowedlging it. "Have you flown often here?"

Jessica leans back, bottle resting on her thigh as she just tries to relax before she has to go back in for another round. The question has her slitting her eyes open and looking over at Daenerys. "I could do something, but it wasn't flying. Not really. But it got... I dunno, fucked with somehow here. So you might want to keep tabs on what you eat or drink. Or who you fuck. Be just my luck to find out that powers are part of some weird new STD."

She snorts, inelegant and unable to help herself. There's only one person she's been fucking here, and she's already consumed dragon's blood. How much other damage could be caused.

"I don't have powers like that. I'm a dragonrider in my world, but that holds far less meaning here." So she's flying here, but not in her world. Strange. "What's an STD?"

"Dragonrider. What, like, actual dragons? They have those where you come from?" She shouldn't really be all that surprised. They had them here, didn't they? She felt like most of what she saw on that planet had to have been influenced or brought in from some of those destroyed worlds. Like a weird preservation attempt.

"STDs? Sexually transmitted disease. Like syphilis or chlamydia. Herpes? AIDS- no, wait. You guys probably don't have that or know what it is."

"Actual dragons. My fiercest is in the stables here. I don't know about the other two." She knew about one, though. He was killed, his corpse beneath a frozen lake. It's no easier thinking about losing her sweetling. "I hail from a family of dragonriders. Aegon the Conqueror and his sisterwives united the Seven Kingdoms in my world, riding upon Balerion the Black Dread, who lived two centuries, Meraxes, and Vhagar."

The blank look she has in response to Jessica's explanation should be answer enough.

"You can receive a disease from having sex?"

There was a surprised sounding laugh that left her, and Jess rolled her eyes, head moving with the motion as she lifted her bottle to take a long drink. "Oh, wow. You've got a hell of a lot to learn. Hell yes, you can get diseases from having sex. That's what condoms are for- which you probably also don't have a clue about. Jesus. They really need to have some sort of sex-ed training around here."

"How does one receive it in the first place?" Would she and Jon develop it by being here? She motions for the drink, her brows growing pinched. "Will you die from it?"

That would be a no: she does not know what condoms are. But for the wariness of sounding silly, she refrains from inquiring about them.

"I have no idea where they originate from, but it's just transferred via unsafe sex. Which is why condoms are kind of a good idea if you're bumping uglies with someone you don't know. Most of them are pretty benign and just involve itching and burning, but then there's things like syphilis and HIV, which can cause insanity and death or lower your immune system... then death." She passed the bottle over, wondering just how much of the queen of the queenly queens was going to be flustered over this kind of shit. She didn't seem the type to hit it and quit it with everyone, but hell, what did Jess know?

She doesn't grow flustered, not over talk of sex, and certainly not over death. The whiskey tastes as awful as the first time, but she ignores the burn and takes a much longer sip this time. After, she's forced to clear her throat.

"I'd never heard of my Dothraki complaining about... itching and burning, nor any of my sell-swords. If any were to receive that, it would likely be them." She snorts, quietly amused. "I suppose they wouldn't be complaining of that before my generals. Who would have ever imagined sex causing insanity and death? Does 'bumping uglies' mean sex, in your world?"

Jess lets her keep the bottle for now, figuring maybe the queen needed it more than she did. A shrug and a short, bitter laugh that was more a snort than anything. "A lot of things mean sex in my world. That's one of the ways to put it. Most people manage not to get anything too bad, but people keep coming up with new ways to fuck themselves over -- figuratively and literally. But on the bright side, I haven't heard of anyone getting more than crabs or pubic lice here, so that's a plus."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Trust is earned, not given

yes, good

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject