meadowlarklogs | THE WORLD IS ENDING, I'M DONE PRETENDIN'

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THE WORLD IS ENDING, I'M DONE PRETENDIN'—

WHO: jake

dipolar.
WHERE: new amsterdam's 12th precinct holding cell.
WHEN: september 4th and on.
WHAT: waiting to be booked for murder without identification.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: warning for excessive talking.

(they aren't bad. bigger than the rooms they had them in at the pandora facility, bigger than a couple of the safe-houses he dredged up in some of the scummiest places in china and japan. hell, he lived under a bridge for two years and in a mesh tent for five. this is ritzy.

still, he's trapped in a box with no freedoms. he can pretend he doesn't care all he likes, but it does bother him.)

What? (he asks the man covered head to toe in winding tribal tattoos who's been staring intently from the moment the new meat stepped into the four-bunk cell, hei made tired by the attention they're getting — he'll add to his charges if these two goons want a struggle, if his hand is forced, but until then he'll settle for ignoring them and taking a seat on the edge of an unoccupied cot.) ... I didn't think you'd be the "other guy" she was talking about.

(glancing up at jake, then to the security camera past his head, missing the shield his bangs offered him.)

There was that albino, but she made no mention of anyone else.

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Oh perfect, I knew this story was missing a little extra panache. A little sparkle. An albino? Nothing sparkles in the sun quite like that.

[ Jake enters the cell second but is the first one heard from the hall, no doubt, in deep one-sided conversation with the guard negotiating his cuffs before he'd been shoved inside. Roomy. ]

Since I don't know what the hell you're talking about though, Tak, I'm just gonna' assume that when she vaguely referred to my myriad accomplishments here you were crediting them to some random pale weirdo. Good to know. [ Blue eyes go from the tattooed man to the much more squat, red-faced one who's positioned himself aggressively in front of one of the sets of bunk beds. Muscular upper body, short. Alpha dog type, over-compensating. Great. ]

Riko, right?

They can't book us without identification, we're just alleged murderers.

(their mates — split-tongued lizard guy and poor man's billy mays — shift.)

Alleged.

(hei sighs out roughly and tips himself back onto the bottom bunk, throwing an arm across his eyes to blot out the fluorescents. bad things happen quickly and in pairs, but this is an even bigger pain in his ass and it's only been a day. presumably, since he knows squat about the date, the time, or where the hell on earth they've managed to find the only experimental drug program that conscripts you, uses you as a guinea pig, and gives you priceless technology for free.

it's just stapled into the back of your head. also free.)

What's your name now?

[ The word "alleged" is good enough to get a little snort out of him, raising his chin in a brief acknowledgement of the other two men as if daring them to speak up. Surprise surprise, neither do. Looks like their strategy is to mean mug them to death, which is kind of fun. It'll be a lot more fun when they decide to get violent, or if. ]

Alexei, Tak. Tak, Alexei. Great to meet you.

[ Jake approaches the bunk Hei's just claimed with an enviable level of gracelessness, aspiring to that right about now. And yet his non-partner-in-crime has stolen the prime real estate ]

Bitch. [ casually ]

Alexei — (yeah okay, that's about as real as his is.) — it's not my problem you were second in line.

(one finger lifts on the hand of the arm over his face to indicate the top bunk, but the limb's soon removed entirely. can't stand to close his eyes for even a minute when he doesn't have any real control over what happens with all three of them. it's too early to tell.

and he's right, of course. alexei stands ready while he's in recline. not a good position for a fight, if it comes to blows.)

What do you think about the cameras? Sound or no sound?

Oh, definitely no sound. Share all your deepest and darkest life secrets.

[ A pause, to let his point sink in. ] Yeah, that's me telling you that that's a dumb question. They had eyes in the sky when it came to a random alley in the middle of the city so I'm gonna' bet they have better resources in their cells. 'Sides, you're gonna' act like they have sound anyway.

Just like me. [ Sure, he can pretend to think about it an attempt to let their observers think he might be speaking unguardedly, but that would be insulting all of their intelligence. ] How's the mattress?

(listens to his chastising, but only because there's nothing else to do. they're really trapped in here. ah.

hei blinks slowly, once, then tips his head to one side as though considering it.)

Comfortable. (is his petty response, before sitting up with a suddenness that'd make his head spin if they hadn't finally given him a glass of water after getting his blood taken.) If you're going to stare down at me like that as well as insult me, you'd better make it from on high.

I'm sure your mattress is fine.

(translation: gO AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE.)

[ Eyebrows lift in mock surprise... before his hand also raises, making a slow and exaggerated show out of measuring the distance from his own line of sight down to Hei. ]

"On high". Pretty sure I don't have a choice, sweetheart; I'm always stuck looking down on you. You're a professional -- this can't really bother you.

[ A throwaway remark, perhaps, but between the two of them it's obvious that it's more than just a saying. He's a professional in the same way that Jake is, and their line of work often requires a certain level of patience. ] What'd you think of the beer?

(there are as many mercenaries as worms in any random pile of dirt. people don't realize it because they're happy with their lives, choosing to be blissfully unaware of the growing pains the world is going through, but — this just proves that to be true. one bus full of seemingly random victims and two happen to be guns for hire. go figure.

it wouldn't bother hei if he didn't feel sick to his stomach, unused to how many drugs have been pumped into his system. jake seems fine, maybe he's the junkie, but at the mention of beer...

his throat goes dry.)

You. You got beer. (he's not fucking impressed, detective, because a beer might've made him give the whole truth and nothing but the truth.) I got grilled, I didn't even get asked if I wanted a bottle of water. The impartiality shocks me.

Me. Myself. And I.

Even have a standing offer for more if I think of anything else I want to share with them. Not too bad of a deal. [ Bullshit for beer? Yeah, that's a decent trade. Better than any he ever got back home, anyway. ] Must be something related to me not being the most unlikable and dead-eyed son of a bitch they've seen all week.

[ He lifts his head, calling back over his shoulder: ] No offense, Laurel and Hardy, you guys seem real imposing and scary. [ With a roll of his eyes in Hei's direction, shaking his head. ]

They have no idea who the fuck I'm talking about. Punks don't know their history from five or six centuries ago.

(whatever, he's over it. still, after all the shit he's been through, a beer or ten would've been nice.)

Then why are you here talking to me and not getting your fill? (an honest question, because that's where he'd be right about now — maybe he can capitalize on that later, but having to go through the withdrawal sickness and shakes again sounds like a bitch for only a few drinks.

eyes flick to their roommates who've placed themselves on their respective cots to listen in on the conversation. clearly the most exciting thing to happen to them all day, now that the word "murder" is being thrown around.)

I don't know what you're referencing either. It sounds to me like you just want to hear your own voice, fine, () but if you're going to make a joke from the 21st century, you'd better make it a more popular one.

(looks like they're on the same page, or at the very least somewhere in the same book.)

[ ... ]

You know, I may be going out on a limb, but something is almost giving me the impression that you don't like me very much. Hurts. Hurts a lot.

[ With the flippant tone of a man discussing the weather. Or what to have for breakfast. ]

Give me the bottom bunk or I'll keep making jokes.

(stares...)

You have issues. There's nothing wrong with the top bunk. (the next question hei anticipates.) You should've asked before I got settled on this one.

Oh, you settle in real quick. That's good to know. Sign of an adaptable man, which means you'll be just as quick at settling into the top one when you get the chance.

[ The squatter man clears his throat loudly, clearly attempting to hack up something. ]

Hey, keep it cool-- [ Jake pauses, clearly searching for a name. ] ... I wanna' say you look like a "Rudy" or a "Blade", but the point is the joke is still coming.

What do you call a fat psychic?

Is that what you think? ("getting settled" and "settling in" are two very different things to hei.) You could make a case for how it makes more sense to put a heavier weight on the bottom.

(the irrational method. he almost snorts, glancing briefly at the man currently known as "rudy or blade".

no good company over there to commiserate with. maybe they like awful jokes.)

But you continue with this method...

Oh, we could make all kinds of cases, couldn't we?

[ This one he directs at the other two men, who share an uneasy and yet stern look between one another as if in consultation. There's no indication that they're friends, really, and yet they're being treated like a unit. Well, welcome to the fucking club. Finally, "Rudy" speaks: "Look, whatever your bullshit is, keep it to yourself." ]

Hey, no bullshit here. You smell bullshit? Just a joke.

Now... what do you call-- [ The emphasis comes with a little roll of his wrist towards the men, tossing a quick grin over his shoulder at Hei before he's looking back. ] --a fat psychic?

[ "... a large medium?" ]

Hey, there's a good one. Nice try, but no. You wanna' try, Tak?

Don't encourage this. (said flatly, addressing rudy who's far too ready to clap back at him with a "tellin' me what to do, scrawny?"

hei drops onto his back and lies there a moment, deciding on his next course of action. answering jake's bid for an extra player to roll with his joke? never going to happen and never has in the long, long life he's led. cracking wise is excusable, but purposefully awful wordplay?

shakes his head no at jake's question, content to stare up at him from the flattering angle giving him a double-chin.)

[ Oh, what a perfect tableau for his joke. ]

... a four-chin teller.

[ Silence reigns for a moment or two before "Rudy" groans and his tatted up companion actually gives way to a little snort, encouraging Jake's smirk further. ]

You guys liked that one, huh? Let's see...

Oh, you guys wanna' hear about this furniture store that won't stop trying to call me? All I wanted was one night stand.

...

A tip for the future, it's better to hide from others how spoiled and petty you are.

(if there's one thing hei hates the most in this world, it's stupid jokes. wisecracks are perfectly acceptable, but these have no backbone to them. once-off things that get a cheap laugh.

well, he never laughs. ever.)

You don't have to do this.

"Spoiled and petty"? Oh shit, that one's gonna' leave a mark. I'll only take one of those lying down, just so you know. The other things I'm willing to take lying down shouldn't be discussed in such distinguished company.

[ It's said to Hei but the way he keeps tossing back looks over his shoulder makes it clear that he's working to entertain the other two at the same time. There's something about intentionally shitty jokes that lowers the tension in a room, whether or not it ingratiates anyone to him or not. ]

What other things shouldn't I tell jokes about, huh?

(grunts his disdain, wondering how long jake can keep this up. his answer lies in how relaxed the guy looks standing by his bedside. a long damn time. that's time he could be relaxing the cocktail of drugs out of his system in hidden shivers and presses of fingers into bruising track marks, letting the others chat amongst themselves. he can have it and whatever show of dominance it accounts for.

wordlessly, hei sits up, ducks his head, and relinquishes the bottom bunk.

there are laughs from the opposite side of the room that go unaddressed — lizard gives his two cents with a tongue-ring lisp, "what a fuckin' pushover, the jokesh weren't that bad" — choosing instead to climb the modest little ladder and drop down onto his shoulder without so much as a bounce on the shitty cot mattress.)

[ Jake does make room for him, an acquiescing step back as the amusement drains from his face entirely in favor of a suddenly far more critical appraisal. An expression that far more accurately suits the mood he's in; this place is a fucking joke and he wants the fuck out of here. But how far will that particular attitude get him? ]

Let's see...

[ And so soon that look is gone, ducking low to claim the bunk he's worded so hard for, not an ounce of shame in his actions. ]

What are you guys in here for? Wait, don't tell me-- Tak, help me guess.

(hei caught the look out of the corner of his eye, made warier by it even if the show of seriousness leads to far bigger expectations. in a way, it's easing his mind more than clouding it — because he's not alone with his misery, trapped in a little room with three other people he doesn't trust.

this enables him to shut his eyes and listen, offering few words in response. now that he's comfortable in his new bed.)

Drugs. (for lizard, definitely drugs. but for rudy?) ... Alcoholic nose. Battery. Probably family.

(that doesn't get a very good response, a long list of expletives leaving the man's mouth with a too-quick step up in front of jake's bunk and a reach up to shake the bar separating them from one another. there are a slew of challenges for him to say that to his face lest look like a coward, insults tailored to make him feel small, nothing hei rises or even budges to. it just gives him a better idea.)

... wife.

[ In no way does he genuinely expect a response from Hei, so when one comes? He's surprised. Pleasantly surprised, even. Hei's shouldering a portion of the load as far as keeping the conversation going goes and they're entertaining, well-defended guesses to boot.

He whistles, low, at the violent response from one of the men. Lizard seems a hell of a lot more accepting, almost reticent when his obvious habit is brought up. ]

Damn. Here I was gonna' say that we were dealing with tax evasion and street-racing. [ A pause. ]

--kidding, I'm seconding both. And for the record? You're not helping your case with this little outburst. Come on, remember the five step program. ... I'm just gonna' guess there's a five step program.

There's always a five step program. (muttered caustically beneath his breath.

the bar of their bunk beds is shaken and hei wobbles on the top, slowly losing his patience. one cold look shot over his shoulder, coupled with jake's "pacifying" words is enough to incentivize him into quitting on the outburst and circling back to lizard with a kick at his mattress.

lizard barely reacts, a muscle in his jaw jumping, but — overall, well done. calm for a junkie, hei almost feels sorry he'll have to deal with the withdrawal tonight.)

Staying away from alleged killers seemed like common sense to me. I understand it's not common anymore, but you'd all better find some... quickly.

[ Arms fold behind his head as Jake chances closing his eyes, corner of his mouth quirking in amusement at Hei's handling of the situation. ]

You don't need to slap on "alleged killers" there. If sense were something we were dealing with in this new happy little family, they'd just need to look at us to know that they shouldn't want a fight. [ It requires more perception in looking at Hei than it does looking at the 6'3" man lounging on the bottom bunk, but in Jake's mind not a hell of a lot more. He cracks one eye open, glancing back over at the other two men. ]

So let's be pals instead. Just wanted us all on the same page with our histories and guess what? I think we are now, if those guesses were right.

(hei returns the perceived compliment with another grunt of acknowledgement — it's in the eyes. that's how he tells petty criminals from felons. there's nothing in his and a sharpness to jake's that suggests he's far, far more serious than his cavalier attitude and tone belies.

they're killers, plain and simple. not a soul could guess at how dangerous they truly are, how many men like rudy and lizard they've gutted for a dime. they seem to smarten up when jake drops the 'alleged', as planned. he's calculated, making friends and enemies with a few choice phrases, language a playground. hei finds himself envying it.)

Then what? Play question games and charades all night? (he can't emulate the bravado, though, choosing his own method of getting out of conversation.) I'm not pals with any of you and I don't want to be. Leave me the hell alone.

[ The widening of his smirk is more genuine now than it has been yet, seemingly enjoying a private joke with himself. Hei isn't as difficult to work with as his abrasive personality might initially imply -- perfect for scaring the locals, not so good at shooing away people that are a little more cracked in the head thanks to life and its myriad circumstances.

He doesn't have a problem recognizing that he's someone who's on that list. ]

You heard him, guys; time to pipe down. He stayed out too late at the ball last night and he's getting ready to turn into a pumpkin. [ A pause. ]

... read some classic lit, you'll get it. Either way, I'm taking a nap.

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THE WORLD IS ENDING, I'M DONE PRETENDIN'—

warning for excessive talking, edit the post

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