Gravity -- why hath thou forsaken me?

[assholic]

Who: Jessica Jones (assholic) & Clark Kent (apricitous) & OPEN
What: New ability rearing its head
When: December 07 - December 14
Where: Closed log @ her and Clark's home, randomly around Wyver.
Warning(s): Language? Will adjust if needed

Whether it was the Orbiters enhancing something she already had or something new creeping into her system, Jessica Jones was now capable of more than just 'falling with style'. Her morning with Clark and how well that had gone (/sarcasm) was making her a little concerned about having to leave the house. As to what that meant to others?

They might come across a scowling woman clutching onto a doorway. Or a tree. Or maybe she's reached out and grabbed someone -- perhaps a little too hard? Anyone noticing this might also notice that during these times, her feet might not always touch the ground, and if she's grabbed onto someone, that someone might feel an odd upward tug.

God help anyone that makes her jump. She'll remember you. She'll owe you.



[Feel free to PM about specifics or pp me @ junglewere. Open prompts for anyone in Wyver, but she can be pinged/messaged by people in Olympia if anyone happens to gossip.]

Comments

[assholic]

"It's your fault I'm up here," she grumped, opting to try to pull herself along the ceiling towards the kitchen. Hey, this was kind of working.

[apricitous]

Oh, that gets the book closed.

"It most certainly isn't."

[assholic]

"Is so," she shot back, not looking back at him as she reached the little dip in the doorway she had to crawl over, upside down, to get into the kitchen.

[apricitous]

"Blameshifting is beneath you, Jessica," because nope, not going to let himself get riled. Nope, because it's ridiculous. His flying wasn't contagious, after all.

"...much like everything else right now."

Yeah, he said that.

[assholic]

"I'm putting it squarely where it belongs. I had it all under control, and then I had to go and think about you and your stupid rumblecock and you can't just say that to someone that hasn't gotten laid in like, two years. It's fucking rude." She was pulling herself over to the cupboard now, letting out a soft 'aha' of victory as she opened the door and reached down for her bottle. "There's a Geneva Convention for a reason."

[apricitous]

Blink.

Blink blink.

Blink blink blink.

"I'm sorry, what?"

[assholic]

"You heard me." She knew he had. He heard everything. She angled herself around, pushing down so she was mid room level again, pulling the cork free and taking a long, long swallow.

[apricitous]

"I certainly heard you," he says with a snort as he puts his book aside and actually looks up at her, "I'm just wonder-"

Okay, he's processed that a couple times and now he's figured out what she meant. Huh. Well, it's certainly a thought, though it strikes him as less helpful than-

Detour. Detour. Deeeetour.

"I was actually talking about my tongue. Though... I suppose I could? It strikes me as more awkward than enjoyable, though."

By which he meant that he had no intention on a cease fire here. After all, no skin off his nose if she decides to float through the apartment all day.

"And I don't believe the Geneva Convention addressed that point."

[assholic]

"Your what?" Her nose wrinkled and she gave him a semi-perplexed look from the kitchen. Then thought about it. "Oh. Enh, I guess that's a thing some people might like."

Another long guzzle, followed by a whoop as Jessica fell flat on her ass, spilling alcohol on... yes. Her jeans. "Goddammit!" She only had two pairs, Clark. This was bullshit. Now she was going to smell like a drunk all day. Great.

Getting up, she brushed at the wet stains, scowling. "Sure they do. I'm sure sexual torture's in there somewhere."

[apricitous]

He'd startled and been about to check and see if she was all right before he heard the 'goddammit'. Then he settled back on the couch to watch her stand.

"And I don't recall bringing out the nipple clamps."

But he does actually stand up at that point.

"Are you all right? Other than smelling like a still?"

[assholic]

See this look, Clark? It's the look of a woman who has no problem with coming over and punching you in your smug, pretty face. "Ha, ha. Look who's found their moonlighting job as a comedian."

She had a very strong urge to just go back to bed and try to mulligan this day. Somehow, she doubted that would be effective. "Why, you wanna kiss my booboo better?" At least she hadn't spilled much. The whiskey was actually pretty good, and she went to get an actual glass to pour it in.

[apricitous]

And he will be a good moppet and roll with it so you don't break something, even if it smarts. But his head tilts to one side to agree yes, he's being a little snarkier than is necessary. He doesn't like watching people flounder when he's right there. It puts him in a mood.

"Slammed through a mountain, remember? I wanted to make sure you were all right."

[assholic]

"This is why I'm sticking with bobbing around like a lame Disney character inside. Where there are no mountains." Look at her, Clark. She was wise.

[apricitous]

"I like to think the mountain had it coming," he says with a shrug. "Not that we were close or anything. Also, it did hurt."

[assholic]

"..." She came to stand in the doorway, arms folded as she looked over at him. "I hope wherever you come from, people tell you you're weird."

[apricitous]

"I'd need to have friends for that. Never managed to make any."

The line isn't delivered for sympathy. It's matter of fact, a reality of his life. Secrets meant closeness wasn't possible. He'd had Lois and his own mother. There were people he was acquaintances with, but no one he told things like 'I crashed into a mountain' or 'laughing too hard makes me float a few inches unconsciously'.

"Not any I got to keep, anyway."

[assholic]

"What?" Have a look of complete surprise, Clark. Because this was Jessica, thrown for a loop. "How the hell do you not have friends. You're a goddamn human puppy. You slobber love and goo on people. You've got sunshine spilling out of your ass. I call bullshit."

[apricitous]

There's a long, slow blink from that description, but he just shakes his head and moves to take out the garbage. Might as well get that done before he gets dressed for real.

"You have a... very interesting view on me, Jessica. But the fact of the matter is that you can't have friends when you spend most of your life drifting and the other half hiding everything important about yourself from people."

The bag is pulled out of the bin and he starts to replace it automatically.

"The people in my hometown weren't... the best. I told you about the panic attacks, the fits. Small town, small school... people have their opinions. Not all of them are kind." The bag is fitted to the bin. "Some of that faded when I got older, had a handle on myself, but I still couldn't do most of the things kids do for fear of hurting someone. Even then, things were gling all right. I almost made a few friends before I had to pull our bus out of the river."

He flicks a smile over at Jessica.

"Then they were scared of me. Or they wanted to test me, so they pushed me around. Tried to see if I'd crack and do something weird."

He waves a hand as he heaves up the garbage bag. His tone is simple, matter-of-fact. There's a bit of old pain in there, he wouldn't even imagine to try and lie about that, but it's just a reality of his life. Something he'd learned to live with.

"I got older, I left town. I traveled, trying to find something, someone like me, some trace of where I'd come from. Sometimes I got to stay for a while, but invariably something would happen and..."

He spreads his one hand with a shrug.

"It was the bus all over again. Or it would have been. I learned to move on quick. Saved time."

Then he's taking out the trash.

[assholic]

No, Clark. No. You do not get to make her feel sorry for you. Part of it were things she empathized with. She knew what it was like to have someone look at you like you might hurt them, just because you could. Like the fact that you existed was somehow enough to ruin their lives, that safe little bubble they'd built for themselves. She still remembered the look Mrs. Walker had given her after she'd thrown her, literally, off of Trish. Once people knew what she could do, they were afraid of her.

The shitty thing about fear was that it turned into hate. She watched Clark as he took out the trash and she thought to herself that if she was a better person, if she wasn't the human stain that she was, she'd go over and offer him a hug. She'd do something that showed that he wasn't alone.

But Jessica sucked at anything involving feelings, because feelings were raw and it was the only thing she felt vulnerable around. So instead, she watched Clark leave the apartment to get rid of the garbage, and she had a mental picture of where she should be in that moment. In the bag. "And what do you plan on doing here? Moving on? Seems like you're setting up shop to me."

[apricitous]

The thing of it is: Clark isn't expecting a hug. He doesn't look back on his life as some great tragedy that people should feel sorry for him over. It is what it is; everyone has their trials, their strengths, their weaknesses: the good things, the bad things. His life has been different, and it's had it's challenges. But it's been good too. He'd had his parents for seventeen years, and then he's had his mother since then. Her absence, in it's own way, his hit worse than Lois.

He'd only had Lois for about a year and a half. His mother has been his touchstone his entire life. It was her heart he would focus on to find peace. It was her eyes that had always brought him back to earth, and her voice telling him the things he needed to hear.

"Well, the last year and a half or so, I figured out a way to stay in one place and still... do what I wanted. Help people. Save people. And given that the people who seemed to have a problem with it are dead, in a tube, and... now calling me a friend, I might give it a shot again."

He turns a quick smile on her.

"Still sort of figuring that out."

[assholic]

"You've got that Alan jerk. And whoever you had over for dinner the other night. They're from wherever you're from, right?" See? She paid attention.

Sometimes. It had been her job, after all. "If it's any consolation, Trish would love you."

[apricitous]

Oh, this is getting dangerously close to things he doesn't feel comfortable sharing. But he hopes he can be honest at least.

"Alan and I became friends... well, very shortly before I died. The same with Diana, the woman who came over."

Roughly a half an hour, to be honest. He hadn't even learned Diana's name.

[assholic]

"Diana's the amazon goddess, right?" And Jessica meant that in the way that anyone said 'amazonian goddess' in the year of our lord, 2017. "And how the hell did you become friends with that anal retentive douchebag?"

If her phone was within hearing distance, it might have just turned on.

[apricitous]

"Diana is... the very lovely woman who came by the other night, yes," he says, because he's agreeing with his head nodding but he won't say anything else in that direction.

"And Alan... is... complicated."

[assholic]

"Alan's a dick." Trust her, Clark. This was coming from another dick. Jessica could spot another jerk from a mile away.