you tell me 'just give in'

[rigging]

Who: Jesse Finch and anybody!
What: PLOT HALLUCINATIONS
Where: Lighthouse, around there!
When: Days 37-39
Warnings: Possible self-harm, violence, swearing.
Notes: This is a catch-all log for important hallucination things! I'm forward dating a little because I'm going to be so busy in the next week or so, and I'd like to tag while I have the chance! I have a basic idea of what is going to happen down at the bottom there. As you can see, it is... not very detailed, which means I am super okay with just about anything going on! He's going to be particularly panicked, so if anybody wants to screw with him an/or knock him around, I welcome it. Lemme know what day you want in the subject line for varying crazy-times. c:

He's hiding in the lighthouse. Jones can't get him here. He's safe, for now, as long as he doesn't sleep, and as long as he doesn't leave. But he's running out of food, and water, and he's so tired, and he keeps finding snakes, curling around his legs when he nearly-dozes-off. Of course, he kills them, and of course, they hiss and go up in smoke, and he's wide awake - for another hour.

And then he does it all over again, curled up somewhere dark with his pipe, ignoring the communicator on his wrist.

Comments

[rigging]

Oh, Christ, Jesse's entirely too whacked out to not find this endlessly hilarious. He's exhausted and woozy and the word butt was used, there's no way he can do anything but collapse into giggles. And when he's composed himself enough, he heaves out a huge breath. That. That actually felt sort of good.

"Mm. Usually I'm more of the pitcher, y'know?" He shrugs. He peers over at Pinkman, totally unfazed. "Ladies too. M'an equal opportunist." A beat. He can hear the whispers, still, but - it's the most lucid he's been for days, and it's almost a relief. "You like it with the vaginas, then, m'guessing."

[magnets]

Wh- it was a legitimate question! Not that he isn't some crazy degree of proud that he managed to get Finch to laugh at a time like this, really and genuinely, but he hadn't even meant for it to be funny.

"Oh," Jesse replies woefully, carefully dropping his face into his free hand and pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Look, man, stick it in whatever ya want, just spare me the details." Jesse doesn't need to know about butt stuff. "Definitely in the vagina club." He lifts his head for a second there and peers back over at Finch. "Wait, was that even a question?" Whether he liked vaginas or not? Hey.

[rigging]

To be honest, it's sort of a relief to know that Pinkman isn't going to beat the shit out of him or something. It's not like Jesse hasn't run into that in the past. Going a little quiet, he just peers up at Pinkman, almost sleepily, pulling his hood back up. "I ain't gonna tell you nothing, ain't your business anyway. And I promise I won't hit on you, neither."

The last question, though, makes Jesse giggle again, and this time it's his stupid pot giggle, the one that comes out when he's high or stupid from lack of sleep - he shakes his head, coughing a bit. "Oi, oi. Get yer panties out of a twist, baby, I was just askin', like you just askin' me. There ain't a default setting. Only fair."

He yawns, widely, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Looks over his shoulder, looks up the stairs, just to make sure he's not slacking on watching for the nightmare. "Hey - hey. Jesse."

[magnets]

There's not a default? "Alright, alright, I'm just sayin'. Vaginas are the best."

Luckily for Finch, Jesse's got a whole lot more of a nurturing side than he does a homophobic one. He's still got a wary bit of a look out of the corner of his eye, but he seems comfortable with just letting shit lay where it is with that. After all, he likes the dude. Just cuz he likes to stick his dick in weird places ain't gonna change anything here. "Right on, man, deal."

Unless he was something crazy weird. Like a dogfucker. Jesse wasn't being friends with a dogfucker.

Jesse peers over at his comrade in arms, raising his hand with the piece of glass a little bit, like he's gonna have to fake-fight off some nightmare bullshit or something. "What's up, man? See somethin'?"

[rigging]

Nope, no dogfucking here, Pinkman is safe. Jesse giggles again, quieter this time.

"Pretty amazing, yeah," Jesse sighs, and oops, his eyes are closed. He sniffs a little, and forgets to finish what he was going to say, tightening his grip around himself. He's thinking about Galen, since the topic came up, and it sucks. Galen's too far away, and Jesse misses him. Still, there's nothing he can do, unless he falls asleep, and - and he's not really willing to do that.

He curls up a little more, mumbling something indistinct.

[magnets]

Not willing, but then again he doesn't have his usual ploys to keep himself up. Jesse's probably supposed to be prodding him here, knocking the guy awake, slapping his face or something. But the guy's just been awake for so long now, Colonel Facepoker's slacking. He watches Finch slip off, budging carefully and slowly enough to give him room without jostling him awake.

"Hell yeah, man," he replies back, voice soft as he balances his elbows on his knees, lets the shard of glass dangle between his legs. "Pretty amazing."