nysalogs | Normal is a lie we tell ourselves

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The woman he banged into dropped the shirt she'd been looking at, bending to pick it up quickly before dusting it off. She turned and scowled at whoever had knocked into her, not wanting to be bullied by the vendor into buying it via 'you break it/drop it, you buy it' bullshit. "You might lose it while it's still attached if you don't watch where you're going."

Someone hadn't had caffeine yet.

"Oh dear! I think then I'd be even worse at watching where I'm going. Without a head." He twiddles his fingers, tugging at them with a soft frown before offering his hand to the woman he's crashed into.

"My name is Jean Prouvaire, but just Jean is fine. Pleasure to meet you!"

She didn't take the hand, looking at it with a sideways glance before folding up the shirt she'd been looking at and tossing it haphazardly back on the pile. She reached for something grey with blue flecks in it instead; a man's shirt with a button up front done in a subtle design. "Sure it is. I'll bet you're just freakin' delighted."

"Usually, yes. I very much like meeting new people." He works on straightening up the shirt she'd tossed back. Seems a shame to fold it and then throw it, really. And this would make it easier for the merchants.

Jessica was a shame, Jean. It was her original state of being. She watched him fiddle with the shirt, rolling her eyes before opening up the new shirt, spreading it wide and looking at it, imagining it on the person she was picturing buying it for. Mm. Nice. "Guess being here must be just a ride for you, huh?" He had 'refugee' stamped on his forehead for her, that outgoing nature something that she hadn't seen at all in the natives from this world.

"You know, it's odd. A few people have said that to me now." And his good friend Enjolras has fiercely defended him over the network, but he takes it in stride. "It's strange, of course. I was bitten by a plant not long after I woke up, but it's also rather exciting.

It's nothing like home, no. I imagine it's nothing like anybody's home, but I'm making new friends and learning new things, and that's what important in life, isn't it?"

Her hands holding the shirt dropped to the table, still holding the article of clothing she had every intention of buying. She looked at him like he'd just grown a second head, one that was just existing there and making loud farting noises. "Are you high?"

Bundling the shirt up, she tossed a large silver piece over at the merchant, getting back a smaller one in return before she stuffed the shirt in her satchel. Then she went back to browsing, keeping a wary eye on Mr. High on Life. "They didn't let you out much back home, did they." It was a statement more than a question.

"I get that, too. And though I sometimes do indulge, I have yet to do so here." Jean shuffles his feet a little, glancing at the pile of shirts on the table. His own clothes are exceedingly colourful, between the pink pattern of his shirt and the rather vibrant red of his pants contrasting sharply with the pale lavender of his waistcoat, and he finds himself looking curiously at the patterns and materials used on the clothing here.

It's all so interesting. The market place, the people. The dragons, the plants and animals and he wants to learn everything he can.

"I suppose I lead a sheltered enough life. I did go to Paris, though, for university. Do they have a Paris, where you're from?"

She couldn't even call that a dumb question. Not when there were people here who lived in lands that had zero familiarity with her earth. Or other planets entirely. She moved on to the next item that had caught her eye; a black shirt with a subtle pattern woven into it in black thread with a faint shimmer to it. Again, it was in a man's style and looked far too large for her, but who it was for was none of anyone's business. She held it up, trying to span out the size with her hands.

"Yes, there's a land of frogs and wine and smelly cheese where I'm from. That explains some of... whatever's wrong with you."

"That's a lovely shirt." He especially likes the shimmery bits. "Is there something wrong with me? I suppose I'm rather more on the optimistic side. I like to try to see the good in things, whenever possible.

Apparently that's a rare trait, here." And the thing is, he doesn't sound mean saying it. He doesn't mean it to be mean, either. It's just an observation that perhaps people could do to look on the brighter side of things.

It was a lovely shirt, and she didn't want to not get it just because he'd pointed that out, so she grumbled something and rolled it up, stuffing it in her satchel with the other before handing over that small silver to the vendor. "Seeing the good in things is probably what's wrong with you. Along with whatever has you deciding that talking to strangers is a good thing."

"Well, I've introduced myself. We wouldn't be strangers any longer if you told me your name, as well." With someone else, it might be a cliche, or some sort of awful pick-up line. But Jehan, god help him, means it with all sincerity.

Jessica huffed a sigh, then looked over at the guy. "Jessica. And hey, look at that, you're still a stranger. Funny how that works." Someone was feeling extra salty that day, and it was likely just Jehan's bad luck to run into her while she was trying to do something nice for someone. She hated getting caught out.

"You remind me a little of a friend of mine, Jessica. Though he is, I feel, perhaps more philosophical in his pessimism. Of course we're still strangers, but now at least we know each other's names. Which makes us less strangers than we were a moment ago.

I suppose we just see the world differently. You and I do, I mean. Grantaire has his own world view too, of course, but -- anyway. I like to look at things as opportunities. Maybe the fates, or the universe, or whathaveyou meant for us to bump into each other for whatever reason."

"The fates are too busy collectively fucking everyone up the ass at the moment to give two dead porpoise shits about you, me, or anything as simple as some random missed connections bullshit." Because no one popped the bubble of optimism like Jessica Jones.

Normal is a lie we tell ourselves

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