ercookies | TDM 002

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TDM 002

TDM 002: IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO

( 1 ) Around mid-morning, a message from the Augur appears on bracelets all across the city. "New organisms discovered. Domestication in progress."

The wark of a chocobo rises up from the outskirts of the city. Several more join in, forming a charming chorus. And, strangely, this is when new arrivals begin to show up.

Beamed in one at a time, scanned en masse, they are processed just as the first wave was. There's one major difference: whereas the old guard was given their bracelets and ushered into the City, the new folks are also given... collars.

Buckled, snapped, or otherwise fastened around their necks, a variety of colorful collars with some rather unusual novelty pet tags. (These are just a few suggestions. The typical “If found, please return to ____” is also very much acceptable.)

"You are new organisms. Domestication in progress. Compatible Eros energy will complete domestication."

No matter how hard they try, characters cannot take the collars off by themselves. They need a partner's help - but not just anyone will do. It very well might be the first person they find, or it might take several tries.

The robots grow bolder as the day grows on, targeting characters who aren't new, as well.

"Y̶o̶u̴ ̸a̷r̸e̷ ̵o̵r̵g̶a̴n̷i̷s̶m̸s̶.̶ ̶D̷o̶m̴e̴s̶t̶i̶c̵a̸t̶i̸o̴n̸ ̷i̵n̸ ̴p̸r̶o̵g̷r̵e̷s̵s̷."

Their antics die down by nightfall, but for the next day or two, the occasional malfunctioning 'bot may accost someone in the street, so stay on your toes!

( 2 ) An abandoned racetrack lights up the night. That's right: place your bets, folks, because these birds are about to run around a track while robots sell synthetic, overpriced aphro-popcorn.

...Did you say priced?

That’s right! If you participated in the orgy earlier this month, you'll find you have a stash of credits accessible in your app.

You've fucked money back into the world, so why not waste it?

(Opportunities to earn credits will come up periodically and won't always be sexual in nature, so don't worry if your character wouldn't have any yet.)

And if you don't have credits to bet with, why not get creative?

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N A V I G A T I O N

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No, nothing like that.

[ Mentioning that it's the property of a human alien might invite comparisons to a thunder god that she'd then have to dispel. And who knows? Maybe Poe does have superpowers and is just playing it close to the chest like Matt does. Contemplating it won't do either of them any good. She made the point she meant to make. ]

But the robots can be dangerous.

Darn. And I was really looking forward to having a seeing eye robot.

[He'll get a laugh out of you yet, Jessica Jones. The shock of hearing her voice was wearing off, of not having a building falling on his head. As weird as all of this was- and it was in the incredibly fucked-up zone, he not only knew someone here, but it was someone he actually liked. If anyone in their little group had needed to lighten up, it was this one. Not that she didn't have her reasons, but still.

Matt was here, Jess. It was okay to laugh.]

[ Easy for a deadman to ~~say~~ think. Jess looks over at him with a humouring smirk he can't benefit from. The tag on his collar is funnier than his joke and that can't get a chuckle out of her, either.

Taking in the rest of him practically confirms he's repressing as much as she is. He was in his Daredevil duds when she last saw him. If his impossible appearance here weren't already max disconcerting, that'd ratchet it up a tick. It's like Midland never happened, from how he's dressed to how he's acting. And that works for her right now. ]

You're as funny as ever. [ Not very, as implied by her dearth of laughter. And she's still a jerk! See? Like nothing happened. ]

[Daredevil was tucked in a duffel bag in a hidden location that he wasn't going to share in that moment. His Russian Gymnast days weren't over, Jess.

He hears the sarcasm, his lips twitching up in a grin as he continues on behind her. He's oblivious to his tag, but he's sure it's ridiculous. He's listening to her, though. Her heartbeat, a sort of scan to check and see that she was in one piece. It was probably slightly invasive, but he was his own version of the team mom, and she was one of his charges.]

Guess you're saying I should give up my day job and switch to stand up comedy? You're breaking my heart, Jessica. And probably agreeing with Foggy.

[ It's super invasive, and just like she did when she first found out about that aspect of his ability, she's emphatically Not Thinking About It. ]

Your friend who works for Hogarth?

[ That's distasteful. She leads them into a turn off the main thoroughfare, a sneer on her face. ]

Don't make me puke.

[He keeps up, not too close, not too far behind her, listening to where they were going, tracking the surrounding area. He can hear the sneer, and he grins back.]

Foggy landed a good position, and I don't need to remind you who sent me your way first. You implying you'd prefer if Hogarth had defended you herself? Ah, wait, let me correct myself. Tried to defend you before you stormed out in righteous indignation.

She wouldn't have smashed my camera.

[ Or tried to interrogate her under the guise of legal representation.... probably. Seeing as he just shooed Misty Knight out of the room so he could take over questioning. Huh, grief had her forgetting how completely annoying he was at the start. It's a temporary balm on her conscience, to bicker like this. If they fall into the rabbit hole of what-ifs for real, there'd be trouble. And dragons. ]

[They'd both had their fill of dragons, in his opinion. His cane taps along the edge of the ground, tapping again as his hearing picked up another heartbeat. Had to play the blind act up... just in case.]

I fully intend to compensate you for that. I also don't recall giving you permission to take my photo. We'll call that a little rough justice, Jones.

[ Her eyes drop to his cane, then sweep the street and alleys. Anyone (or-thing) he's hearing, they're not close enough to see. She's as unsettled by an unknown presence in her chosen neighborhood as she is by his uncanny detection of it. Turns out a week isn't long enough to fully acclimatize to the scope of his senses. It's still weird. ]

I prefer the term "dick move." [ To keep up appearances, she gives his elbow a nudge as they come upon her building. ] Over here.

[At least he's not hearing neon, Jessica. Baby steps. Baby ninja steps.

His hand moves to catch her elbow, almost a second-nature gesture. She had, after all, been the one he'd been puppy following along when he'd been playing blind for their law enforcement audiences. She's also at just the right height for it, and he tap-taps his way with her.]

Well, I do have a dick, so that's a somewhat valid argument.

[A cheesy grin was angled her way.]

I was trying to help you. You know that. Why are we re-having this discussion?

Because it beats a lot of the new ones we could be having.

[ She's satisfied that no one's skulking around her hovel, or he'd have told her by now. Once inside, Jess steps to the back of the derelict shop to push aside a busted book shelf. A lot of buildings along the street are laid out similarly, with apartment spaces above ground floor storefronts. She chose this one for its resemblance to another nearby, where she'd first taken shelter. After a messy encounter with another abductee, she opted to leave it behind instead of clean the place.

In moving, she also replaced the furniture they broke. The robots manufactured items of substantially better quality. She hasn't hooked up with anyone since, as badly as she'd like to get out of her head for a while.

Through the door is a cramped flight of cement stairs ascending to an apartment. It smells musty and mildewy to her so it ought to be a real treat for him. There's a sofa, a coffee table, and a bed in the room down the tiny hallway. It uh speaks for itself; she lets him get acquainted with it as he likes. ]

[He grew up in New York, Hell's Kitchen, learning about the joys of enhanced senses in the steaming pits of summer swelter. No alleyway smelled good to the average nose. Having to navigate the city with the senses he accrued had been a torture until he'd learned to filter things out. Ignore the stench of decomposing garbage and rat shit and vomit. The tarry scent of asphalt as it heated up and sticky tar patches on rooftops that coated the inside of his nose and mouth like something cancerous. He'd had to learn for his own mental health and survival.

A little mildew and must and dust was almost a spring breeze in comparison. He could smell her over it, though. The leather of her jacket. The scent of her that was usually covered by cheap shampoo and alcohol. Those were lessened, and it made him curious.]

You mentioned that you haven't had anything to drink in awhile. Is that, ah... Is there no alcohol around? Is that the only thing limited? I can't pick up any grocery stores or cleaning supplies.

[Not that she smelled bad. She smelled uniquely like herself. Along with her heartbeat and the way the blood flowed through her, he could pick her out of a crowd or track her over the city- not something he planned on telling her just then.

He stands in the center of the room and lets his senses expand outward; feeling the couch, the table, the smaller room. His head tips a bit as he looks at her.]

You plan on actually talking to me, or are you bringing me here to tear a strip off me?

It's the same as with the food.

[ Drugged. She learned at that the little shindig thrown for the first arrivals. Whether in the air, the drink, the food, aphrodisiacs couldn't make her do anything but she's repulsed by desires that aren't truly hers. It's a uniquely familiar feeling that can snap her like a ripcord into scenes from her past. Memories she drinks to get away from.

Food, she has to take her chances with. Sparingly, always alone.

Jess leaves his question to linger as she steps into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. So far, that hasn't had any kinky side effects. The two glasses sitting in the doorless cupboard judge her until she fills a second one for Matt and brings it out to him. ]

I brought you here so I'd know you're not out there, ninja kicking Schwarzeneggers. I can't say I had a plan beyond that. [ He's capable and all that but some of them have fucking flamethrowers. She'd rather he find that out from her than firsthand. ]

Right.

[He'd heard something about that, but for some reason, aphrodisiac food was something he was having a hard time wrapping his head around. Then again, he hadn't been put in a situation where someone had made him feel something he didn't want to- didn't intend to. That was a Jessica scenario, and for some reason, it made his hand clench around the glass she'd held out for him.

She'd done her research into him in a way he hadn't expected. Finding out about his dad. Using it to personalize things. He'd read her record. He'd also read the notes that others had put in about the hogwash they thought it was and other more questionable comments about her. It pissed him off. He'd had too many broken clients before that had gone through similar, if not the same scenarios. Jessica wasn't broken. A little jagged, maybe, but she used those pieces to prop herself up and defend herself, not to excuse falling to pieces. Maybe that's why he liked her.

And maybe that's why he wishes he could have met Kilgrave to punch him repeatedly in the face until he had broken shards of teeth and a ripped up tongue, unable to suggest anything other than bloody, gasping gurgles.

Maybe.

But that comment had him smiling. He didn't reach out to her. Just nodded.]

I'm glad you're okay too, Jess.

[Because that's what she'd meant, right? Right.]

[ Jess breathed out at length. Sure, that's what she meant. Sure, she's okay. She's hunky goddamn dory. Short of shucking off their clothes and screwing their brains out, there's nothing they can to do make her any okayer, so okay is as good as accurate. She steps past him, behind him, to take a seat on the couch. Sips her water before her mouth goes dry. ]

We were the first to get here, a couple dozen of us, about a month ago. A few days in, the bots put together a party. There was a whole spread, it was all laced. Since then, it's been rations.

The incentive is better provisions for "cooperation." They track it with the bracelets.

[There was something in her voice that was making him want to make a fist and punch someone. This was a sensitive area, and he couldn't understand it. Not like she could. Sympathizing would just earn him a backhand through a wall.

That didn't stop him from moving to sit at the end of the couch, facing her, fingers tapping against the edge of the glass.]

Jessica...

[He let out a breath, not sure how else to handle this.]

What do you want me to do? I'll do it. Is there someone-

[He stopped himself again. If there'd been someone that had done something, then that someone would be breathing through tubes. He knew that.]

Is there something I can do to help? Anyone with a liquor stash I can ransack?

[ She glares. She wants him to not be here, on this island, stranded in unknown space. It seemed like rock bottom before. The only thing worse is being joined by someone who knows her. Who knows that anything that could be done, she'd have done already, and still feels the need to ask that question. A blind man who's seen through the lies, the slanderous and the defensive. ]

If there was, I'd be three sheets to the goddamn wind.

[ The base of the glass thuds quietly as she sets it on the table. Jess looks balefully out the window, works her jaw, tamps down her rage. She's concentrating on the facts to anchor her agency. He's struggling for control in his own way. There's got to be someone else who needs his help more than she does. ]

I'm just telling you what you're up against. I can take care of myself, I don't want to lose you. [ Again.

The last six words are stressed, the truth taxing her. She's afraid of falling into the trap of treating him like a second chance, too. It's a fine line to walk and sobriety actually worsens her balance. ]

Jessica... I know you can take care of yourself.

['You're not a victim' was unsaid, lingering on his tongue as he lifted his hand to draw his glasses off. His eyes were unfocused, but he was trying to aim them in her direction. To show her the vulnerabilities he had since he unfairly knew hers. Hell, too many people knew hers and it was unfair. But he couldn't fix that.]

I don't think I have any choice about going anywhere. If you're stuck here still, I guess we both will be for a while. You won't-

[He set his glass down, his hand resting on the space of the couch between them, but not breaching her space.]

I'm not going anywhere, Jones. Not without you.

[As if he'd leave the city without taking her with him. Not fucking happening.]

[ That's not the kind of loss she was talking about. He's smart enough to know that. She sizes him up while weighing if she's going to call him on it or not, and lands on not. Instead she huffs softly. Self-deprecating, morbidly amused, in that order. ]

I should be telling you that. [ Jess knocks her knee into his, piercing any bubble he might think she needs around her. He's not mistaken about that but he isn't one of the people to draw it out. Bodily. Emotionally, as this conversation as illustrated, whole walls remain. And that's hardly personal. Her sister couldn't pry any more out of her, if she were the one here. Thank fuck she's not and she hopefully never will be.

Deflection deployed, target strike imminent. She spares them both by not asking what the last thing he remembers is, or remarking on how his week from hell managed to outdo itself. They can talk about that later. Maybe never. Depends on if her liquor hunt ever turns up results. ]

Cute choker, by the way. Very nineties.

[He did and he didn't. He didn't want to be the first one to call out the fact that she'd sounded worried when he'd last seen her. When he'd set himself up to be the suicidal sentry. He knew what she meant, but he was opting to give them both an out. Feelings...

Feelings were fucking difficult.

His lips twitched into a grin at the knee bump, and he could almost see a smile through that red haze he saw the world in. Her comment, however, had him lifting a hand up to it.]

You'd think they'd put braille on the back of it. Or maybe me not knowing what it says is supposed to be the point. I don't suppose you could, ah... get this off?

[ It's easy to own up to concern while the bullets and ninja stars are flying, seconds ticking down on a bomb. Sitting beside each other in shelter and relative silence, all the foreseeable future stretching rottenly out ahead of them, fucking difficult's right on the money. ]

Sure. [ She read that some people on network were having trouble removing them, or she'd question why he can't do it himself. Regardless, she reaches for the buckle first. ] Just don't lick me.

What? Why would I-

[His hand comes up to the tag.]

Does it say something about licking? Jesus. That would explain some of the sniggers.

[He sighed and turned his shoulders, trying to give her better access to the buckle. Her pulse was steady, strong, and that scent that was uniquely her was a surprising balm to his senses as he sat still for her to do her feat of incredible strength. Surely a buckle and necklace were no match for a woman that threw a car at his ex?]

[ She suppresses a snicker of her own. ]

Nobody told you? Assholes.

[ She's not telling him either, really, but she's an established asshole. Grandfathered in there.

The strap slips through the loop but the prong sticks to the frame as if welded. She takes the frame in both hands and tries to snap it. Shouldn't be a problem, yet it won't even bend. ]

-- the hell? Did they make this out of Avenger steel or something? [ Vibranium, but who remembers that (and who else has access to it). Jess grinds her teeth and tries the same thing again, then digs her fingers under the strap. Attempting to tear it in two is just as unsuccessful. Because of course! Because why wouldn't it be! ]

[She is, and that's something he genuinely cherishes about her. She's blunt, crude, stubborn, but she'll say what she means. Maybe that's why he likes her so much. He doesn't have to listen to her heartbeat for the truth because he's guaranteed to get it, whether he likes it or not. Probably especially if he doesn't want it.

He's smiling as she starts working the choker off, then lifts his brows at her struggles. He can feel her fingers sliding in against his skin under the leather, and there's genuine surprise that it's not tearing at her efforts. The woman could break his hand if she held it when she sneezed, but leather is just scoffing at her.]

Ah... having some trouble there, Jess?

[Was he needling her? Yes. Was that a bad idea? Probably. Was he going to stop?

Fuck no.]

[ He's such a glutton for punishment she has to wonder if this is his first time in a leather collar. Her hands go inert, fingers hooked around the strap. ]

It's your problem, not mine. [ Jess disentangles herself from the collar but can't take her eyes it. It's sturdier than the robots who saddled him with it, leading her to believe it's of direct value to their efforts. Restoring the city.

The Augur can sure drive a point home. Convolutedly but it gets there in the end. ]

Skeevy bullshit got it on, maybe skeevy bullshit gets it off. [ Somewhere between those lines is an apology. She wishes she could help him or at least put forward a seemlier theory. She'd like to be wrong about the one she landed on. ]

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