01 [video]

[yeahscience]

Hello? Hello?

[The video switches on by accident to reveal a young man with mussed hair and a blood-red (or bloody?) t-shirt, prodding urgently at the communicator controls. His eyes are wide and red-rimmed, like he's been crying.]Hey, yo, what is this? What'd you bring me here for? If you're gonna kill me, man, just-- just do it, already, don't

Comments

[raisedinabox]

Sounds like you had a somewhat traumatic arrival here, are you all right?

[yeahscience]

Geez. [Jesse glances down at the communicator.] People here, like, really like to ask that question, huh?

Whatever, man, I'm fine. I am... acclimating. [He's not sure if he's using that right. It's one of those five-dollar words Mr. White likes -- liked? -- likes to use.] To the like. Situation.

[raisedinabox]

Finding out you're dead isn't a great experience at the best of times, and don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't sound like you went peacefully in your sleep. [He gives a little shrug.] So people are just being friendly. I'm sure the concern'll wear off once you've had time to acclimate.

[yeahscience]

[Oh, cool. He was right. He almost smiles for a second, before he remembers what it is they're talking about.]

Yeah, well, like... [He runs a hand through his hair, frowning.] Not to get too detailed about it, but it wasn't exactly a surprise, when it happened. It just sucked, that's all.

[raisedinabox]

[Word related victory! Jim nods understandingly. He's not actually looking at the communicator for the duration of this conversation, but he's sending out video and clearly paying attention none the less.]

I'm sorry to hear that. I guess anticipation doesn't really make the actual event any easier. [He folds his arms, his expression polite, if a little distant.] Could I ask, was it something specific you saw coming? Or did you just live dangerously in general?

[yeahscience]

[That's sort of personal, but Jesse's starting to get used to people asking weirdly personal questions. He guesses that's what happens when you show up crying and yelling and all. Plus all that rehabby "therapy" crap.

He shrugs defensively, setting the communicator down on the bed so he can shove his hands into his pockets.] Yeah, well, my job was in a pretty bad neighborhood and all, so...

[raisedinabox]

[The really sad thing about living on a boat where half the population is dead and evil is that asking if someone's life was dangerous seems like a pretty tame question to Jim by now.

...The crying and yelling may not have helped though...]

That's understandable, I worked in a few total cesspits when I was younger. So what was your job?

[yeahscience]

[He pauses, and the thought he has to put into this lie is clear.] ...I worked at a laundry. Like, one of those big, industrial places, you know.

[raisedinabox]

[Hey, Jim loves a well planned lie!] Really? I never considered the amount of manual labor that must have to go into places like those. So what is it you do there?

[yeahscience]

[The best lies have a little truth in them, right? Who told him that? Probably Mr. White.]

Uh. Launder. [He shoots Jim a look, like, seriously?]

[raisedinabox]

Right. Sounds stimulating.

So what would you like to be doing? [Because god if that's true he has never met anyone in such dire need of career advice.]

[yeahscience]

Cook. [He says it before he can stop himself, and practically slaps himself when he realizes the total ass-hatted stupidity of saying that out loud. Mr. White would have slapped him, probably.]

I mean, you know, I like to cook. Chili. I make good chili.

[raisedinabox]

And I guess Taco Bell wasn't hiring?

[...Well, he's certainly not ruling out that you're just a young man who works in a launderette and hosts secret dreams of being a sous chef, but... since your also dead and on the Barge, there might be a tiny tiny bit of sarcasm in his voice there.]

Maybe you should talk to someone about joining the kitchen staff in that case, they're pretty much always looking for extra hands, and you could get some experience of working in a kitchen.

[yeahscience]

Yeah, well, I don't know how it is up wherever you're at, but jobs are pretty tight down in the ABQ. [He shrugs defensively.]

[And now here's the stupid outcome of his stupid mistake: of course he doesn't want to work in the stupid kitchen.] Maybe, sure. I dunno, yet. I gotta like... settle in, you know? Adjusting to being dead, man. That takes a lot.

[raisedinabox]

There's always work for people who go out and find it. [Said with the annoying conviction of a massive Yuppie.] Especially for an enterprising young man such as yourself, I mean, you got a job at the launderette, didn't you? That's a step on the career ladder, it's just that the step you're hoping to take is more lateral than ascending.

[Pause]

I guess that doesn't really matter now though. I'll mention your gift for chili to the supervisor on the lunch shift, and I'm sure when you're a little more settled she'll have a position available for you.

[yeahscience]

[He's kind of a douche, but the dude sounds so much like Mr. White for a second with all this 'enterprising' 'lateral' bullshit that it actually hurts.

Jesse looks down, something in his face falling, his voice noncommittal.] It's cool, man. You don't gotta do that. Maybe I need to, like... figure it out for myself and all, you know?