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Private Too Much to Drink Last Night

Discussion in 'Pandopolis City' started by Jesse Pinkman, Apr 6, 2019.

  1. Jesse Pinkman

    Jesse Pinkman Breaking Bad

    Posts:
    5
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    25
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    March 30, 108
    @James McGill

    Mr. White didn't say much when Jesse handed him that watch he got him for his birthday. That didn't really matter though. From what he could tell, the old man had a lot on his mind, and a lot of the time, he just liked being left alone. Jesse never wanted to become that old. He was scared of the idea of relying on other people to keep himself alive. That's what Mr. White had to do, it seemed, with his cancer treatments and stuff.

    The man hopped in his car and started it up. His work was done for the day, and he had to head back to his house because Andrea and Brock were coming over soon. He fished his key out of his pocket to jam it in the keyhole and ignite his car. While the engine rumbled at idle, he sighed, wiping his hands down his face. Jesse was so tired, he felt like he could just go home and take a nap. He looked at himself in the mirror, and noticed little black vine things on the back of his car seat.

    Jesse started panicking and felt his heart leap into his chest as he whirled around to look at his seat. Sure enough, there was black rope like things, and they were growing and wrapping around his body. The man let out a scream and started pulling against them with all his might, but they were too strong. Jesse was pulled right into his car seat - rather, through it, and spat back out somewhere.

    The man looked around with crazed eyes. ”What the fuck?!” He was in some kind of city, or something. But it was like, weird, like, there was all kinds of strange aliens and shit walking around. How much did he drink last night?

    ”Oh man… what the hell, what the hell…..” he muttered, feeling his heart rate increase tenfold. Wherever he was, he really did it this time. He started walking, slowly, unsure of where he was going. Jesse looked around at all the strange businesses and stared at the people and animals.

    Then he saw something that really caught his eye. Plastered to the side of a building in bright orange was an advertisement that looked eerily familiar. Jesse ran over to it and read it with huge eyes.

    SAUL GOODMAN: ATTORNEY AT LAW

    Jesse ripped the paper off the side of the building and started breathing heavily. He scanned through the paper and found the address: 1787 Farmont Lane. He then looked around, unsure of how to navigate in this massive city, and started reading street sign names, like that was going to do any good. After a few minutes of failing to find Farmont Lane, Jesse knew he’d have to ask someone.

    He approached a normal looking human woman and smiled. ”Hey, uh, I’m new in town, was hoping you could give me some directions.” The lady looked a little surprised but nodded. Jesse showed her the advertisement with the address on it. ”Farmont Lane? Wait, this is for that stupid old lawyer with the crappy commercials, isn’t it?” Jesse just nodded at her, and she looked at him and sighed. ”Well, I don’t go up that way much, but it should be up there.” She pointed up the road. ”Make a left when you get to the grocery store.”

    ”Yo, thank you so much miss, I really appreciate it,” Jesse told her with a smile, and then he set off in the direction she told him, quickly. He made a left at the grocery store and ended up at some yellow shack. It could almost be considered a step up from Saul’s old strip mall location. Jesse hurried in and walked up to the lady at the front desk. ”I need to speak to Saul, tell him it’s important. Please. NOW.”
     
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  2. James McGill

    James McGill Better Call Saul

    Posts:
    1,156
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Independent Lawyer, Business Owner
    Location:
    Pandopolis
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    42
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Directory:
    link


    ~ Oh, you're just the same as I used to know ~
    ~ Always playing games in the strangest ways ~
    [​IMG]


    There was a reason that Saul took his break when his body guards took their break. Usually, he kept at least one of them around (just in case) and bribed them with something else that they fancied over free time. But today, Saul only had one guard and he was long gone, off to grab a hoagie or meet his dealer on 5th Street to restock on his dope, or both. Saul didn't give a damn, as long as he was back at the office within thirty minutes.

    If the lawyer had his way, after all the shit he'd been through in the Box, he would always keep a guard within a fifteen foot radius of himself. But labor laws were labor laws, and with how often his men seemed to drop like flies, he knew he could not keep such high standards.

    So when Mary paged him through the intercom, he couldn't ignore a sickly suspicion crawling through his heart. "Sir, there's someone here to see you, it sounds urgent." Was it so difficult believe that it was a genuine coincidence that someone unexpected was here to see him on his body guard's break-- the one day that he had only one body guard to send on break? Yes, it was certainly difficult to believe.

    Unfortunately, Saul couldn't really pretend he wasn't there at this point, and so he set down the pearlescent cat statue that he had been examining in his office and hesitantly answered the intercom, "Is it anyone on the black list?" Mary would have asked the potential client to come back later-- as she was instructed to do when it was break time, and as she had done before. So either this patron was extra pushy or bleeding out on the spot. "No, sir, I don't recognize him." If he was bleeding out on the spot, she would have mentioned that by now.

    But if the stranger truly meant the lawyer non-negotiable harm, he would have killed Mary by now and barged in without waiting. Making a face, Saul supposed that his situation could be worse, but having no real choice, he reluctantly agreed, "Alright, send him in." He leaned back in his leather seat after taking his hand from the intercom and slipping it underneath his desk, ripping the Velcro strap that held his pistol in place against the surface of the wood. Just in case.

    Resting the weapon on his leg, he kept it hidden under the desk and prepared to give a large welcoming smile to whomever walked through his door.


    ~ You're reminding me of home ~
    ~ It's in my blood and bones ~


     
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  3. Jesse Pinkman

    Jesse Pinkman Breaking Bad

    Posts:
    5
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    25
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    @James McGill

    Jesse was so nervous. He could feel a bead of sweat running down his skull, looping around the front of his ear and dripping onto his hoodie. Luckily, whatever new front desk woman Saul had hired could see that crazed look in Jesse’s eye, because she told Saul that there was someone there to see him.

    The man paced the lobby, running his hand over his head and getting more and more aggravated that this was taking so long. He just reached his breaking point and was headed to Saul’s door to bust it down, when the lady told him he could go in.

    He marched through the door, swinging it open and letting out a yell. ”Saul, what the HELL is going on here man?!” He went right up to Saul’s desk and leaned his hands on the counter, staring at him with huge, shiny eyes. ”What the hell is this place?! What’s going on?”

    Jesse backed away and started to pace the floor again, wiping under his eye with his hoodie sleeve. He stopped and looked at the lawyer. ”One minute I’m getting done a cook with Mr. White, and then the next these things—like, I don’t even know what to call them…” His gaze went up to the ceiling as he fought for words. ”They were like, black rope things, I guess, they like sucked me into the car!”

    He walked over to the wall and gave it an irritated kick. ”I think I’m just high as fuck, because there’s no way this is real. But like, it doesn’t feel like that, you know? This feels so…. real. I must’ve pinched myself like ten times, and they actually hurt. Usually I can’t feel jack shit when I’m high.”
     
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  4. James McGill

    James McGill Better Call Saul

    Posts:
    1,156
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Independent Lawyer, Business Owner
    Location:
    Pandopolis
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    42
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Directory:
    link


    ~ Oh, you're just the same as I used to know ~
    ~ Always playing games in the strangest ways ~
    [​IMG]


    Despite all his internal preparations, Saul did jump a little as his door was thrown open, and his grip tightened on his handgun. But the kid who entered his office in a sweat was no monster, no alien, no Animorph, no otherworldly bully or psychopath that he recognized-- no one at all that he recognized. And despite the stranger's heightened emotional state, he seemed quite ordinary, which was a great relief.

    Saul remained leaning back in his chair, expression relatively neutral even if his eyes were wide at the grand display of exasperation before him. Focusing on the feeling of the smooth texture of the rosewood grips on his firearm, he watched the kid closely as he removed himself from his desk and started pacing the room. With more of a personal bubble reestablished, his nerves calmed and his gaze softened. Squinting, he mulled over the situation that had thrown itself into his office. The kid was acting in total contradiction, both appearing comfortable and as if he felt familiar in the space, yet clearly he was frazzled and claimed that he had no idea where he was.

    It was apparent that he was a new arrival even before he mentioned the vines. Saul dealt with quite a few of those poor saps on occasion, and no one ever took the truth of the matter particularly well, unless time and inter-dimensional travel was as common as sliced bread in their home world. The lawyer was not puzzled about the boy's predicament, he was puzzled at who he was. Either Saul was reading much too far into the stranger's words and body langue... or the boy seemed to know him, from before.

    He was hesitant to believe or accept that, racking his memory mercilessly. Another punk who hung around him and Marco back in Cicero? That was the only other place he'd ever used his pseudonym. But that was so long ago, doubly so after spending what felt like an eternity in the Box. And that hoodie, those kicks-- they were not what the kids were wearing twenty years ago. He mentioned a cook, so he was a druggie. As if that weren't already obvious.

    Mr. White...

    None of it rang any bells, and Saul personally did not recognize the boy, though he felt a foreboding feeling as if he definitely should. The kid was only confusing Saul and if both of them were confused, that was going to help nobody. When he exhibited a dash of violence against his wall, Saul broke from his nervous trance. "Woah, woah, woah, hey, calm down, kid." There was no need to get violent, with anything, and Saul was eager to nip that behavior right in the bud before it sprouted into something worse.

    He opened his desk drawer quickly, abandoning his gun into it and closing it just as swiftly before he was on his feet and coming around to meet the stranger, hands free and open. "Take a seat." He encouraged, ushering him to a red sofa chair. The lawyer sat on the yellow chair beside it, presenting a technique with a poorly hidden smirk and a hint of condescension. "Deep breaths, you're alright."

    "Let's get back to the basics." He proposed, patting the air between them before listing on his fingers. "Do you remember your name? Do you remember where you're from?" He spoke gently and plainly as if talking to someone who had just woke up from a long coma or a very bad concussion-- not exactly telling the stranger that Saul didn't know the answers to those questions, which he definitely didn't-- but more walking him through a process to calm down.

    If the punk pieced together that Saul had no clue who he was, that would only upset him more, and that was the last thing the lawyer wanted. Trying to glean enough information to work with, he ventured with a slight wince, "Do you remember... the last time you saw me?" Hopefully, the fact that Saul did not remember would not come through.

    ~ You're reminding me of home ~
    ~ It's in my blood and bones ~


     
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  5. Jesse Pinkman

    Jesse Pinkman Breaking Bad

    Posts:
    5
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    25
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    @James McGill

    Jesse grinded his teeth together, looking at the floor, and his left hand came up to pinch his right arm another time. It still hurt. He was such an idiot. He really actually believed something different might happen this time, but of course it didn’t.

    He looked up at Saul when he stood from his desk and started walking over. Jesse wasn’t in the mood to have anyone near him at the moment, and he prepared to back up, but all Saul did was gesture him to a chair. Narrowed brows looked at the chair then at the lawyer, but reluctantly, Jesse took a seat.

    He took a deep, long breath, and stared at the floor with his elbows on his knees. Jesse wiped his face with his hands and leaned back in the chair, letting out a big sigh as he watched the other man with a semi-defeated look. He was so sick of getting himself all riled up.

    Saul’s questions were so dumb. It was like he was talking to Jesse like he was 5 or something, and it just pissed him off. ”Yes, I’m not dumb, I know who I am. Jesse Pinkman. Albuquerque, New Mexico,” he spat. Puzzled eyes looked at the lawyer as he asked the last time Jesse saw him. ”Yeah…. You were driving us around, showing us places you thought we could cook.” Jesse felt a little shocked bringing up that memory, that felt like weeks ago, but it must’ve only been a few days. Time was so jumbled up, he didn’t really count the days anymore.

    Jesse dug in his pockets, and felt the faintest glimmer of happiness when his trusty lighter and cigarette box were still in there. He pulled one out and started to light it up, itching for that relief it brought in times like these.
     
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  6. James McGill

    James McGill Better Call Saul

    Posts:
    1,156
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Independent Lawyer, Business Owner
    Location:
    Pandopolis
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    42
    Alignment:
    True Neutral
    Directory:
    link


    ~ Oh, you're just the same as I used to know ~
    ~ Always playing games in the strangest ways ~
    [​IMG]


    Saul watched him with a certain degree of wariness as the kid answered his no-brainer questions. He'd never heard of, let alone met a 'Jesse Pinkman,' but he was certainly from back home. Or, where Jimmy was supposed to call home. Though, the lawyer had never used his alter ego in Albuquerque before, only in Cicero. And the story of him supposedly driving them around to show them places to cook...?

    He smiled briefly with a huff of nervous humor, trying to calculate what in God's name would have to happen for him to be in such a position, working with meth, crack, and/or heroin producers. He didn't know anyone with that kind of tainted talent. There was good money in it, of course, but it was a risky business. Committing fraud and perjury, as well as working with street-level drug dealers were comfortable hazards. But would he ever be that bold to risk being charged with the felony of drug manufacturing? The idea made him fear for himself and fear for his license, and had he been with his alternate self, he would have greatly advised against such entrepreneurial endeavors.

    It wasn't difficult to piece together that the man Jesse thought he was was an alternate copy of himself. Pandora had brought doppelgangers into existence before (and boy, that had been a complete shit fest) so the concept was no longer foreign and whimsical to Saul. What made his spine tingle was the feeling that he was now in on whatever crimes his copy had committed with this punk and his buddies-- crimes that he didn't know a thing about, thathe never agreed to-- and it was a bit shocking. Saul wanted to pull the brakes on it right quick.

    He had to tell Jesse the truth before it bit the lawyer in the ass. Saul just had to tell him very gently. He glanced to the revealed cigarette with a faint grimace, another obstacle in the path towards mutual understanding and harmony. The kid couldn't smoke in here, as the scent would never escape and it would bother the other clients-- not to mention entice Saul, who had been trying to quit nicotine for years. Windows were an easy security breach, and therefore Saul had none in his office.

    "Here." He offered to hold the lighter for him, as if to help him light, but instead Saul swiftly pocketed the damn thing and left him with only an unlit cig hanging in his mouth. "Listen." This was serious shit, and Mr. Pinkman needed to pay attention, not cloud up his office. "I'm--... The Saul that you remember... isn't me. Exactly." This was going to be difficult.

    "I gotta be honest with ya, I've never seen you before. I've never heard of Mr. White. I... I had a different name, back in Albuquerque. None of my clients were dru--" That wasn't necessarily true, for when he'd been a public defender many of his former clients had been drug dealers, so he corrected, "...had your level of talent. I certainly didn't drive any of them around sightseeing." He laughed weakly, trying to assuage the news with some humor. He could imagine the look on Kim's face if she caught him doing something so absurdly unlawful. She would kill him. A glimmer of homesickness rose in him that was brushed aside quickly.

    He fought very hard against his curiosity of whether or not Jesse knew of his former partner. If her office had still been right beside his, if their practice had changed from 'Wexler McGill' to 'Wexler Goodman,' perchance. Now was not the time to ask.

    "Look, I think... you're from my future, and I'm from your past." Saul explained with a careful cycle of his hands before lifting them to yield, "Which, is not actually unheard of, believe it or not. Time can be a bit... funky, I've learned." Among many other things.


    ~ You're reminding me of home ~
    ~ It's in my blood and bones ~


     
    #6 James McGill, Apr 19, 2019 at 2:51 PM
    Last edited: Apr 19, 2019 at 2:57 PM
    Jesse Pinkman likes this.