Normal is a lie we tell ourselves

[assholic]

Who: Jessica Jones (assholic) & OPEN
What: May catch-all
When: Early May to the end of May
Where: Wyver (home/city/arenas), the Space Station, the Wilds, possibly Khalo Village
Warning(s): As always, language. Will edit if needed. Edit: NSFW sex in thread w/Clark

She'd gone to the Coalition and surprise, surprise, no one had died. Well, not that she was aware of. Things seemed to be settling down into something less hostile. There were talks of diplomacy, and she'd heard of refugees starting some diplomatic guild or something, which she also trusted about as far as she could throw any of them in it. The Outpost was being turned into some sort of Swiss neutral zone, but it wasn't what she'd been hoping for.

Still, it was probably better than nothing. She'd limited her visits to Olympia, which had left her with time and the need to line her pockets with something other than those deliveries. She'd seen requests for finding things out in the wild, and while Jessica was definitely a city girl, she could at some points during May be found out in the wilds, looking for things to shove in a bag. She was also blowing off steam by continuing to fight in the arenas, though she'd been politely requested to step up a level, since the coordinators were aware that she was pulling her punches and taking easier fights instead of putting in any actual effort. Damn.

So, for May, Jessica can be found:

• Wyver
  • Home - Chilling with Clark and possibly inviting people she knows over so someone will eat the food she's only nibbling on
  • City - She still goes to the pubs, still visits the marketplace, still goes to see what's available for her to do for time and money
  • Arena - Probably the easiest place for people to find her, as she's there more often than not, having 'things at home' she doesn't want to work through
• Station
  • Pod Room - Checking up on those few she gives a shit about and the one she doesn't
  • Market - Spending some of what she's earned getting new jeans and a few bottles of stuff she can't get down on the planet
• Wilds
  • Out and about trying to harvest flora, fauna, or whatever she comes across that she hasn't seen in the markets. This prompt is open for multiple instances and available for team hand-ins
• Wildcard
  • Khalo Village - Someone could talk her into visiting there
  • Flona Cove - If anyone needs to just take a day and chill, it's her
  • Random - Something else in mind?

[Feel free to PM or PP me if you're not sure about something and would like to iron out the details, or if you'd like me to write up a specific starter.]

Comments

[assholic]

[She doubted that if asked by anyone that either of them would admit to any kind of affection between them. If anything, there'd be insults galore (and that was, in fact, happening elsewhere). But that didn't mean she wasn't glad to see that he was still scurrying around, some familiar piece of not-Nysa'ness that she knew would likely have her back against any planetary shit that happened here. Or so she hoped.

There were a good handful of refugees that were still pretty salty and bitter over what had happened, royal party and asskissing notwithstanding. That didn't make up for what she'd been through, or what the others had. And while she kept hearing talk of 'peace' and trying to get over it, it was nice to know there was someone in her corner that thought it was a bunch of shit and was just as likely to forgive the shamans as she was. And with that in mind, she realized she wasn't entirely sure she wanted Rocket going up there alone... just in case.]

Fine. But there better be something in it for me, furball. I'm not doing it for the benefit of your charming company.

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket's tail swishes back and forth and it's been doing that for the duration of this conversation, lashing like an angry cat even if he's being purely conversational. There's a lot under the surface- his burning anger about being kidnapped, his disdain for the ass-kissing, the degrees of hypocrisy in everything, and the current radio silence from the Natha... Honestly, he needs something to do, even if it turns out to be a pile of broken furniture and nothing worth taking.

Besides... He really doesn't want to go alone and he doesn't want to go with anyone who might be sympathetic and kind about the lingering trauma he has about the mountain chill. Jessica gets it. And Jessica is far from openly sympathetic.]

There's no money in it, but drinks afterwards are on me, if you really need the compensation, I guess.

[assholic]

[Even if she was feeling sympathetic at some point, and there may be a point that it reached that, depending on either of their reactions to things, she wouldn't be offering to pick him up and snuggle him, or call him a poor baby. Jess's brand of sympathy came more in the form of calling him an asshole just to make sure he responded to show he was alive. Worked for her.]

Yeah, I'm going to need the compensation. Not for doing something, but for having to put up with your company for more than five minutes. That's going to require a few drinks. Minimum.

[beatupgrass]

You do realize you then have to put up with my company for the drinks or do you expect me to just toss money at the barkeep and sit on the opposite end of the bar?

[Rocket's started walking now, preparing to be doing this banter back and forth the whole way up the mountain.]

[assholic]

The more drinks you give me, the less fucks I'll give about just how long you're staying around.

[They hadn't actually sat and had a drink before. There'd been fixing up and patching and petty bickering over a beer while she did it, but that wasn't the same as sitting at a bar or table and having to actually be each other's company while drinking. Wyver might not be able to handle it.

She fell in step with him, reaching in and pulling out the bottle of water as opposed to the bottle of whiskey she had there as well.]

So what's your plan? Scavenge first and then destroy? Or just destroy?

[beatupgrass]

Scavenge first. They might have left some stuff that they don't need, but I definitely do. I get more use outta spare parts than most people.

[He holds up a hand as he picks his way through some abandoned limbs in the path.] Not garbage. Scraps. Stuff I can make things out of.

[assholic]

Uh huh. You realize that you're falling into a stereotype, right? They call raccoons 'trash pandas' for a reason. Because they rummage in trash. You're like a furry little hoarder.

[She has somehow managed to find a pace that suits walking with a raccoon, something that only takes a half minute for her body to remember before she falls into. That says something, doesn't it? That she has a 'Rocket' stride?]

[beatupgrass]

[Well, that answers a question he never thought to ask. He still gives her a dirty look, which is not much different from most of the looks he gives people.]

It ain't hoarding if you're actually using it. I could weaponize this entire planet if I wanted things to go ass up, but, unfortunately, I live here, and idiots with guns is a bad plan all around. So I build 'em for myself and people I can trust not to be morons about it.

[assholic]

[Was Rocket capable of giving anything other than a dirty look? She doubted it. But she was used to that, both from New Yorkers in general and now from him. He reminded her of home, and maybe that's why she didn't mind being around him so much. Even if he was a refugee from Narnia.]

Guns are the last things some of these assholes need to get their hands on. They're doing just fine in the maim, torture, and kill each other department without having a weapons boost from a talking pair of boots.

[beatupgrass]

[His face is stuck that way, though Jessica's general... everything reminds him of the seediest places he's ever been. Weird how two completely different planets can produce people with extremely similar affectations.

Then again, Rocket's always said that everything is the same, no matter where you go. He meant it as an insult, but it's kind of nice too.]

They're creative, I'll give you that. Meanwhile, you're starting to make me wonder if you're unconsciously lusting for my fur. What's this? The fifth clothing-related insult you've shot my way? Boots, hat, scarf, handbag... You might have a problem.

[well, at least he's transcended being insulted by it and started finding it irritating in a different way. That's something.]

[assholic]

Do me a favor? Never use the word 'lust' in reference towards yourself and anything to do with me, thanks. There are lines I'm not willing to cross, fur-face. Bestiality is one of them. Though, you might make a good hood-liner. Or a scarf.

[She beamed at him, that smug kind of beam that one gave to another when they'd said something particularly dickish.]

You're a walking wardrobe waiting to happen.

[beatupgrass]

You think I don't have lines? Don't kid yourself about how much of a prize you are.

[Like two teenagers throwing sticks at each other, basically. Even Rocket's snarl has a hint of a smirk in it.] Keep talkin'. You don't know where I've been.

[assholic]

Yeah? Where's that? The vet's to get neutered? The zoo? You pick up any pretty monkeys lately?

[The sniping was as simple as breathing to her, and it held little heat behind it. It was just a way to pass time with two people who had intimacy issues and who had found someone else they could be a salty pile of shit to who wouldn't take it personally. For all she knew, they could be related.]

[beatupgrass]

Just your mother.

[Now they're resorting to "your mom" jokes. They are truly the best of friends. And since there's really nothing to find in the mountains, we can probably fade out here. AND THEN THEY BITCHED ALL THE WAY UP THE MOUNTAIN. #squadgoals]