In mansion and Benzes / Giving ends to my friends and it feels stupendous (OTA)

[theblowfish]

When: December 11
Where: Lucky's Casino
Rating: R for Jesse's language
Characters: Jesse Pinkman and
Summary: Jesse is hanging out at the casino. Choose your own adventure, just label it please!

1.) BAR

Jesse looks out of place at the bar. With the staff dressed to the nines and bar made of rich mahogany, he looks like a hoodlum in his oversized red hoodie, baggy jeans, and yellow beanie. In one hand he has a cigarette and in another he's popping peanuts into his mouth.

"Hey, yo," he says to the man tending bar. "Can I have another beer over here please?"

2.) SLOT MACHINES

Spinning around on his stool is so much fun that Jesse almost forgets what he's there to do. When he finally feels slightly sick he stops spinning and plants himself directly in front of the slot machine. Placing a coin into the slot and pulling a lever, he watches the lights dance overhead as he awaits his fate.

The reels click to a stop one after another, none of them matching. With a hard stare and shove of another coin into the slot he pulls the lever again. The first reel stops and depicts a cherry. Then another cherry. Jesse watches with hands pressed to his lips praying for three in a row.

A lemon.

"Goddamn lemons!" As if a shout wasn't enough, he then hits the side of the machine with his palm.

3.) DANCING GIRLS

Jesse sits front and center at the casino stage where women in elaborate costumes perform. As they form a kickline he begins to whoop and throw coins onto the stage. Make it rain, bitch.

Comments

At the bar, perhaps

[recognize_an_opportunity]

Jesse may feel as though he looks out of place at the bar, and indeed, most of the staff is dressed pretty well, but at least one of them also has a cigarette in hand, so he fits in, in that regard. It's a busy night, so Meyer's been helping Al out behind the bar -- and helping everyone else out wherever he's needed -- and when Jesse calls out for another beer, he's the one responding to the request.

Cigarette dangling from his mouth, he grabs a beer and slides it across the bar to Jesse, then offers him the slightest of smiles. "You need anything else?"

At the bar, perhaps

[theblowfish]

"Just the name of your supplier, dude," Jesse responds, pointing to the bowl of peanuts with his cigarette. "These nuts are the bomb."

Ok, so maybe the lingo of the drug trade is still very much in his system. But he really is talking about the peanuts!

"This is a great place you got," he says before taking a drag. "Pretty sure you're gonna end up taking all my money." And by the look on Jesse's face, he's completely fine with that.

Re: At the bar, perhaps

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"That's a trade secret I can't give up," he says, still, of course, referring to the peanuts, and mostly kidding. He barely even thinks about the food that's offered around the casino, although he's sure glad it exists when he finds himself still there at five in the morning craving a quick meal.

"We've certainly been endeavoring to make it a great place. The planned expansions will, hopefully, make it even better."

It's not false modesty so much as it is a complete lack of ever being satisfied with the state of things as they are. If things're great now, imagine how much greater they could be in the future. If he's taking a bunch of Jesse's money now, imagine how much more he could be taking if the place were improved upon.

[theblowfish]

The idea of making the place bigger is mindblowing. It's perfect already, what more does it need? Well, maybe some video games in the corner. And a couch. And a bitching sound system.

Ok, so maybe he could see a bit of room for improvement, but that didn't make the place bad.

"What are you gonna expand on? Do you get really crowded? Are you gonna get a buffet?"

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"We see a fair amount of business. The area itself could be bigger -- I'm considering buying the building next door."

That's been part of the plan for awhile, so he doesn't feel at all uncomfortable about sharing it. The building next door houses a coffee shop, which seems incongruous next to the casino, and doesn't see much business, anyway. Lucky's isn't a huge place, and he's itching to make it bigger.

"Do you think a buffet would improve it?"

It's a halfway genuine question. In the end, he does what he wants, but customer input can occasionally be valuable.

[theblowfish]

Jesse's quick with his answer as a buffet doesn't require much thought on his end.

"Dude. If you put in a buffet, no one would ever leave this place. It would make it pretty damn hard for me anyway. People can grab a quick bite and go right back to gambling. Everywhere in Vegas does it."

His logic doesn't finish the statement, but the implication is that people may expect it, for better or worse.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"Hmm, Vegas. That's what I hear."

He knows, now, from some research that he's managed to do, that later on in his own lifetime, he'll be one of the men making Vegas what it is in the future. Maybe Jesse's right about the buffet thing -- after all, Jesse's from the future, where Vegas is something more than a tiny desert town in the middle of nowhere.

"Is there anything else you think would improve the casino, while we're discussing it? Better drinks? More options? Other... entertainments?"

The way he says the last word almost makes it sound as though he's referring to slightly less savory entertainments, but that could just be something inherent in his tone.

action; slots

[makingastatement]

There's plenty of entertainment involved in taking a break from that bar, especially on the floor. It's not hard to spot the guy in the bright red sweatshirt. Al's seen him before-- Jeffrey or something. He doesn't seem like a bad kid, but he definitely isn't in favor of any luck of the good variety.

"Bad luck, my friend," he leans against the opposite machine, tone teetering a fine line between sympathy and something reproachful. Really, man, don't mess with the equipment.

"Those cherries aren't so innocent either, you know."

action; slots

[theblowfish]

Jesse takes a moment before answering, staring at the slot machine as if it held answers to the universe. Where the lemons or were the cherries the true villains of this story?

He spins in his stool to face Al, looking up. "Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure it was the lemon that buttfucked me sideways."

action; slots

[makingastatement]

What the hell does that even--

"I don't know about all that or what you do with lemons at home, but if they don't all line up then none of it's any good. Give it another go."

As a gesture of good faith, he'll even provide the bet if Jesse's willing to take it.

action; slots

[theblowfish]

Jesse can't let the comment slide. "I don't do nothin' with lemons, ok?" Against his better judgement if he were to have any, Jesse grabs the coin out of Al's hand without a second thought and drops it into the machine.

"Come on baby, come on."

Three spools slick into place, all depicting BAR. "Yeah, bitch!" Jesse yells at the machine, flinging his arms into the air.

Then he sees the payoff: five small coins.

Turning to Al, Jesse shrugs his shoulders. "Best three out of five?"

at the bar

[likehim_likeme]

Beer is not Jean-Paul's drink of choice, but as someone who has recently found himself on limited means, it is what he has turned to for his alcohol. Really, he should have spent the entire day with Lilith, but... men have needs, right? And he needs his alcohol.

He looks up from his own glass when Jesse calls for one. He's seen Jesse on that... network thing... although he hadn't said anything. Jesse's language had been somewhat off-putting (what do you expect of a gentleman from 1910?).

He takes a cigarette case out of his suit coat pocket, removes one and replaces the case. He lights it and takes a drag before speaking.

"Have you been settling in, monsieur, or are you still seeking your Greyhound station?"

at the bar

[theblowfish]

Jesse is not very good at hiding his emotions. When the question is asked his eyes boggle and his mouth twists. "Uh, no, dude. Learned pretty damn fast that there isn't one."

He was going to leave his comment there, he really was, but impulse control is something he is even less skilled in than a poker face. "Were you listening? Dunno if anyone ever told you, but that's some straight up creeper shit."

[likehim_likeme]

He waves his hand in something of a dismissive gesture, the cigarette leaving a trail of smoke in the wake.

"It was on this network for all to hear. I simply saw no reason to answer it."

This is exactly why he felt the idea of 'party-lines' was a foolish endeavor. Anyone could listen in on anything. Really, imagine if anything he had done in Paris had been over a party-line? How great would that scandal have been? The though brought something of a brief but wry smile which vanished with another drink of his beer.

Was it any wonder this habit had become something more?

"And if you are worried about whatever you might have said over what amounts to a party-line, I saw no reason to listen beyond that. Although I will not speak for others who have been brought here."

[theblowfish]

Ugh. A guy who thought he was better than everyone else.

"I'm not worried. What I say is my business." He stops there. There's not much else to explain.

"So do you never cuss back home in the suburbs or what?" Yes, it's needlessly aggressive, but there is genuine interest.

[likehim_likeme]

Jean-Paul shook his head a bit. If he was not worried about who heard him, why the comment about 'creeper shit' when he happened to hear it? Americans.

"Paris," he said, not rising to the aggression but instead putting on his best 'dealing with a patron' face. "And what I might say when in the company of only men is one thing. What I say in public is more acceptable for mixed crowds."

at the bar

[ex_sorted385]

The rate with which those peanuts are going down makes Tosh worry a little bit that the guy's going to either choke on one of the nuts or try to swallow his cigarette instead. From a few seats down the bar, she muses at him, a pint glass cradled in her hands. He looks a bit familiar, someone she's seen fairly recently on the network. Someone new.

"You're going to need three hands, or else learn how to juggle."

Look, he's probably already had the 'how are you finding things, is the city weird enough for you yet?' questions already.

at the bar

[theblowfish]

The comment makes him smile, and Jesse turns his head in the woman's direction. "I did always wanna learn to juggle, but uh, lit fire yo."

He lowers his hand to place the cigarette in an ash tray. "Though if I'm gonna be honest with you, I wouldn't say no to a third arm. I'd have it grow outta my back so it could get the itches I can't reach."

Deep thoughts with Jesse Pinkman.

He then picks up the bowl of peanuts and holds it in Tosh's direction in offering. "Peanut?"

at the bar

[ex_sorted385]

"Like playing it safe, huh?" Not that Tosh can juggle fire, but she can build a bomb out of the contents of her purse, so it balances out.

She wasn't angling for sharing his peanuts, but it's a friendly gesture and conversation is nicer than drinking alone. So she moves down a couple seats until there's just one between them and takes a couple of peanuts from the bowl.

"I'd think that would make driving a bit uncomfortable."

at the bar

[theblowfish]

Playing it safe is never how anyone has described Jesse, and the comment makes him snort and grin wider than he probably should. "Naw, man," wait, that's incorrect, "uh. Lady. I walk on the wild side. Three armed race car driving included." Hypothetically at least.

"Driving with three hands would be great though. It would be your designated shifter or cup holder or whatever." He points his beer toward Tosh as if emphasizing his statement. "Science's gotta get on that."

at the bar

[ex_sorted385]

"Tosh." 'Man' didn't bother her, but he doesn't seem like he's from the kind of era that would use 'lady' as a formal manner of address, so this is easier and less potentially insulting.

She has to laugh at the image he paints, though. "So this hypothetical arm would have to be a lot longer than your others, I suppose. Or extendable, like a robotic arm."

Oh hey now, that's an intriguing thought...

at the bar

[theblowfish]

"Holy shit!" It doesn't occur to Jesse that he is probably being a little too loud for a public place. Autopilot is to talk loudly anyway, what's a few more decibels?

"I've always wondered what it would be like to be a cyborg. I'd be like the terminator, but less German or whatever." Arnold is Austrian, Jesse. "Think about it," swig. "You'd see everyone's names next to their face so you wouldn't forget and if you had a problem, you could just punch it."

"Oh yeah, PS, I'm Jesse."

at the bar

[ex_sorted385]

Whoa there, mister. Tosh was fine with the whole robotic limb idea, but cyborgs are absolutely off the table. She makes a face and tries to figure out a way to back the conversation off from that particular direction without coming across as a weirdo.

"Right, um. Only cybernetic beings tend to be sort of...you know. Evil. Terrifying murder machines, sort of thing. I think I'd maybe not go quite that far. Though I suppose being able to just punch your problems might be nice, sometimes."

He gets a little grin from her at the 'PS', though. "Nice to meet you."