tampered | log; ongoing

log; ongoing

When; June 6th, morning.
Rating; PG
Characters; Laura Kinney (

notaweapon) and Jessica Jones (

fuuuuuuuck).
Summary; Laura runs into Jessica in the Square.
Log;

Laura's wandering through the City. Aimlessly, for the most part; she's been out all night, since visiting the Deities' office, and she has no intention of going back to the cabin any time soon. She knows her way around, and she knows how best to be avoided—there's something unsettling in moving like this, in not quite being able to keep her balance as best she might.

She keeps bringing her hand up to touch the side of her shoulder, where her arm once was, but then catches herself mid-motion. It's an open display of weakness, to let people know that there's something that's recently gone missing. She can act as if she's always been like this. It's easy enough.

Laura makes her way to the Square, and though it's crowded, there aren't any scents she recognises. She can keep going, keep wandering—there's nobody here she knows who will know her as being any different. There's one woman, though, who catches her attention, sat on a bench.

The woman smells like alcohol and cigarette smoke, like she's been outside just as long as Laura has. Laura stops walking, suddenly, and stands in front of her, staring.

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Jessica isn't seeing very straight-- or maybe she was seeing things too straight. It was hard to tell sometimes. She likes her bench, though. It's a nice bench, with fancy filigree on the ends of it and everything. The sunlight was less appreciated.

At a few points during the night Jessica thought that maybe, it was better this way, that it wasn't like anyone would miss her back home. It could be a clean break, and she's never had a shot at one of those. But that was last night. She no longer remembers it.

So she's blinking a lot, sometimes shielding her face with her hands, when the one-armed girl parks herself in front of Jessica. Her eyes fly decisively open. She notices the arm, or the not-arm, first, then tries to pretend she hasn't noticed. That she's not staring. Because that would be rude, wouldn't it? Jessica thinks maybe she should say something.

"Uhhh, hi."

The alcohol Laura can smell is clearly still affecting the woman. She keeps blinking, even though it's not particularly bright out, and it takes her a long moment of staring before she says anything. Laura's perfectly aware that she's noticed her lack of arm, but she doesn't glance down, doesn't follow the woman's line of vision.

When she does speak, she sounds a little uncertain of what she's saying. Her voice is familiar, though—Laura thinks she recognises it from the network, but the woman hasn't said enough for her to be entirely sure.

Tilting her head, Laura asks, “Do you need assistance?”

"What?" Still not looking at the at the arm. Still not looking at the arm. "No," she says quickly. "I'm fine."

Talking forces Jessica to clear her head some, to focus on different points on the horizon for long periods of time. "Hey. Are you alright?"

“Yes,” Laura replies, flatly. She isn't sure why she's being asked; other than the lack of arm, which for all the woman knows, has always been missing, there doesn't appear to be anything overtly wrong with her. No blood, no wounds, and she's fully dressed.

Laura's silent for another moment. She definitely does recognise the woman's voice, and so, as way of conversation, she says, “Jessica Jones, Alias investigations.”

Shit, that's right. Except the ads she runs for her agency don't exist in this dimension. Probably. She isn't really sure how the multi-verse works, if this really was hell, Jessica thinks, those advertisements were probably there to torture her.

Needless to say, her memory of the past few days is much less sharp than Laura's. Jessica hasn't managed to place the one-armed girl; she's still busy not noticing the missing arm.

"Yeah. That's me." A pause. "Sorry, uh, if I've met you before, but do you mind telling me your name?"

Introducing herself prior to this point in the conversation would've been a wise idea, but Laura can't change that now. Either way, Jessica's attention is elsewhere, and certainly not on the words she's saying.

“Laura,” she replies, and then adds, “I spoke to you when you first arrived. Over the network.”

Jessica knows the network. She has to think about it for a second, but she does. Which doesn't save this conversation from being impossibly awkward, but awkward and Jessica Jones are not strangers.

"Oh, hi! I remember, now. How are you?" She tries to sound friendly. She's not sure if it worked.

“I am fine,” Laura says, and it's true, to an extent. Her lack of arm doesn't cause her any pain, and she has her things, now. That's the important part. Jessica's tone has lifted, and so she thinks she should say something more. “How long have you been sitting on this bench?”

Jessica isn't sure how long she's been sitting on this bench. "Um, maybe three hours. Four? Something like that." She wants to keep the conversation going. Some part of her wants to make sure Laura's really okay, that she isn't being kept in a box somewhere. Another part of her just likes the company.

"Do you come here often? I'm still figuring my way around."

“No. I usually only leave the cabin for work,” Laura explains, “But I know the layout of this City. Where do you need to go?”

Not waiting for an invitation, Laura sits next to Jessica on the bench. Using her one hand, she brushes her hair back, and turns, so that she can better see her.

Turning, Jessica faces Laura, and really looks at her this time. She still doesn't know quite what to make of her-- Laura doesn't move like a normal teenager. Doesn't talk like one, either.

Jessica knows the location of one bar. And one carousel. "I don't need to go anywhere. But it might be nice to see, you know, around."

Laura isn't sure what, exactly, qualifies as “around.” She knows where most places are—on her second day in the City, she made a point of 'sightseeing,' of mapping important locations out in her memory. She doesn't know where Jessica would want to go. Other than another bar, of course.

“Okay,” Laura says, decisively, “You should find somewhere to live. You cannot remain on this bench for another three hours.”

Jessica looks down at the bench. It's nicer than most of the benches in New York that aren't dedicated to someone dead with a lot of money. Still, it's about time to admit that, yes, it's missing a kitchen and a TV and a toilet, and no, she can't actually live here.

"You know of anywhere renting cheap?"

“There are twelve main apartment buildings,” Laura explains, because she doesn't think Jessica has read the guide in its entirety, if at all, “And you can take any apartment that is unoccupied. I do not think rent is very expensive.”

Laura isn't sure whether her pitch is all that effective; Jessica does seem rather attached to the bench. Standing up, she says, “Come,” and stands with her back to the bench.

Jessica is skeptical of anything that seems like it might be charity, free apartments included. But some part of her realizes that one day, it's going to rain, and her beautiful, welcoming bench won't seem as beautiful or welcoming. Still, Laura isn't treating her like someone who needs help-- at least, she doesn't think so. She's a hard person to read.

"Okay," says Jessica, standing up, feeling surprisingly balanced. "Let's go."

Jessica makes it to her feet. That's a good start, Laura thinks. She doubts Jessica cares about where the apartment is situated, exactly, so long as she has a roof over her head—that's a good way to go about things. Laura's about to head in the vague direction of apartment building VII, when a stray thought crosses her mind.

She dismisses it, at first, but if she doesn't ask Jessica, who else is there to ask?

Turning to her, she looks at her for a long, long moment, before saying, “Can you help me with something?”

Jessica's honest. "It depends on what you need help with." She pauses. "Some things I'm pretty good with, but I can be pretty shitty too." For some reason, she pictures the photograph on her office wall, the big one with her awful pink hair and Carol's hands around her waist. "But I'll try."

Laura studies her for a moment. She has basic motor functions and two working hands, which ought be more than enough. It's certainly not that she doesn't think Jessica's up for the task; rather, she's a little paranoid, not one-hundred percent sure if she can trust her or not.

Jessica says she can throw cars, but didn't give any other details. Laura can avoid flying cars easily enough, and besides, there aren't even any around. She could take Jessica down, if she needed to, she thinks—not that she'd run off, because, physically, the item Laura's about to hand over holds no real value.

After a moment of deliberation, she reaches into the inside pocket of her coat, left shoulder rolling as if there's an arm there to hold the coat open, and fishes out her locket. Fist wrapped around the ends of the strap, she holds it out for Jessica to take.

Normally, when people come to Jessica for help, it's because their husbands are having affairs with the cabana boy. Or maybe because someone who owes them money has disappeared to another state. Nothing glamorous, and usually nothing fun. Jessica's job was mostly typing addresses into search engines and waiting outside of dingy motels in the backseats of cars. No one ever showed up in an evening dress and a mink shawl and begged for her help like in those Bogart movies.

So, mysterious one-armed girl and her significant piece of jewelery was a definite step up. Maybe not worth the alternate universe, and the hangover that came with it, but definitely something she was interested in pursuing.

She was kind of touched Laura was asking her.

Hesitating for a moment, Jessica reaches out for the locket, feels the weight of it in her hands. She waits for Laura to explain.

Laura lets go of the locket, and reaches back to take hold of her hair, using her fist to bundle it into a makeshift ponytail. She isn't certain if Jessica will understand the significance of retrieving the locket from the Deities, but does her best to explain, anyway.

“I asked the Deities to bring it into this City,” she says, and then, in a lowered voice, “I can't put it on.”

Laura knows she isn't supposed to say that she can't do things. She isn't allowed to show this sort of weakness, she knows that, but Jessica doesn't know her. It's alright, she's been told, to ask for help in this City. Still, she can't predict how Jessica will react, and it makes her feel unsteady.

Jessica's a bit confused at the mention of deities, and that confusion might play across her face, for a moment. But she shoves it to the side, she wants to be put-together, to really help this girl.

"Do you want me to fasten it around your neck?" She refrains from adding, is that all?, even though she's actually forgotten about the missing arm for a second or two. Besides, claspers can be a bitch even for those with the necessary limbs.

"I can do that," Jessica says, and trying her best to sound reassuring.

“Yes,” Laura says, “There is no point in keeping it in my pocket. I tried to do it myself, and I cannot.”

Without saying anything more, Jessica takes the locket and fastens it. It takes her a few tries, with the clasper-- her fine motor skills still aren't maybe maybe what they should be. But she doesn't think she pulls any of Laura's hair accidentally, so she still counts it as a win.

"It looks beautiful on you."

Letting go of her hair, Laura brings her hand up to the locket, just to make sure it's secure. She wraps her fingers around it for a moment.

Tilting her head at Jessica's comment, Laura says, “Thank you for the help.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, she begins to walk towards the closest apartment block.

"No problem." She watches Laura walk off into the nameless crowd of people in the square. It takes her a minute before she realizes she's meant to follow. Jessica doesn't want to make a scene, or yell, or admit she was stupid enough not to follow. So she just walks an awkward half-run, bumping into a bald, middle-aged man, in her quest to maintain the illusion that she was always right behind Laura. This whole time.

“Pay more attention,” Laura says when Jessica finally catches up with her. After all, looking around apartments alone isn't going to be much help to her. Laura has no reason to be wandering around the apartment blocks, because she technically has a place to stay; but this woman is currently homeless, and finding her adequate accommodation has become Laura's mission for the day. It keeps her distracted, at the very least.

Stepping into the apartment building, and moving into the elevator, Laura says, “You should follow me,” in an attempt to be helpful.

"I wasn't," Jessica starts, then thinks better of it. "Whatever."

She gets into the elevator after the girl, silently checking the buttons for globs of chewed-up gum. "So what do we do? Just find an empty room, and squat?" She wasn't sure how they were going to tell which rooms were empty, either, short of knocking on every door like Girl Scouts selling cookies.

“Yes. That is how it works.”

Laura hits a random button—floor fifteen seems as good as any—and stares attentively at the doors as the elevator whirls into life, and quickly climbs up the building. Soon enough, the doors open with a ping, and Laura steps out into the corridor.

As far as she knows, all of the rooms look the same on the inside, personal items notwithstanding. She stands in front of the first door she comes across, close to it but not quite touching, and sniffs a few times. Three human scents and what smells like a dog—this room is definitely occupied.

“There are three people living in there,” she explains, and moves onto the next one.

Oh. Okay. The sniffing thing catches her a bit off guard-- she hasn't taken the Professor Xavier Mutant Sensitivity course, or whatever. Not that she has a problem with mutants, or hasn't seen her share of weird shit. It makes sense that this girl would be one, now that she actually stops to think about it. Still, she isn't quite sure what to say at this juncture-- oh, you can smell them, that's neat? I'm sorry I left my deodorant in another dimension? Instead, Jessica just nods, and tries to seem as comfortable with the situation as possible.

Laura continues down the corridor, stopping to sniff at each door. The apartments are all occupied, mostly by two to three people. By the time she's nine doors down, she finally finds somewhere that smells empty. Devoid of people, at the very least; it smells as if the previous residents have left something to rot in their fridge. Laura ignores the room, and promptly moves onto the next.

“Here,” Laura says, turning the handle to test it. The door swings open without resistance. “Is this apartment alright?”

"Are you sure there's no one here?" Jessica asks, but mostly out of habit. She's figured out by now that Laura doesn't say anything without meaning it. Walking over to the door, she peers inside-- it's at least bigger than an apartment in New York. Definitely bigger than a free apartment in New York. She takes a step inside the threshold, and the floor doesn't give out. Definitely a good sign.

The walls are a dreary, manufactured off-white, but Jessica decides she likes them that way. She still doesn't want this place to feel permanent.

“I am certain,” Laura says, standing in the doorway. She sniffs the air a few more times. “Nobody has been here for a long time. Do not worry.”

At a glance, the apartment is the identical to how she remembers Kate's being, minus all the personal items and teenage superheroes, of course. It should be suitable, for a while, at least. Jessica will need a job and money to get by, but she figures she knows this. Laura doesn't speak up.

Jessica decides to locate the bathroom and make sure there isn't anything completely sketchy in there, which thankfully, there isn't. It only takes a moment, but she's glad Laura is still there, when she gets back. Because there's something she knows she should say, even if she doesn't always, even if she doesn't like it and the words don't taste good in her mouth.

"Thank you for this. I mean, really."

Standing in the doorway, Laura feels that she should leave. Jessica's found somewhere to live, so her part's over; then again, leaving without saying anything would be rude, and she might need assistance with something else.

“You are welcome,” Laura says, when Jessica returns, bowing her head a little. “Do you need anything else?”

"I think this'll do me for now." She pauses. "Unless you want to help me steal that bench and put it in here."

Laura looks at her quite seriously.

“I could cut the legs and remove it from the ground.”

"Yeah, and I could probably carry the thing back here no problem." She could, really, she's pretty sure of it. "But we probably shouldn't do that."

“Probably not,” Laura agrees, a little disappointed. “The sofa here should be fine.”

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