1963-10-11 - AKA Pessimists
Summary: They call themselves realists…
Related: NA
Theme Song: None
longshot jessica 


Longshot's last several days have been full of good fun, and I mean that in the least genuine way possible. Having signed on to help fight the good fight against the monsters invading Hell's Kitchen from the Hellmouth, it's been a series of fights, narrow escapes, and bloodbaths, which the blond man is happy to get a break from. The flow of creatures into the Kitchen seems to have ebbed slightly, and frankly, Longshot is tired of saving people who don't really seem to appreciate the help. Even the desperate and terrified have been giving him the side-eyes when it becomes obvious that he's a mutant; glowing eyes are hard to ignore. Mutant Town is a welcome change of pace, where his brand of uniqueness hardly stands out from the crowd.

Longshot steps up to the entrance to the Eight Ball, only to be stopped by the bouncer outside. There is a brief exchange, wherein the larger gentleman kindly requests proof of Longshot's mutation; he's a bit too pretty for this part of town. Longshot laughs, and focuses on the bouncer's breathing. His left eye lights up, which itself is enough to gain passage, but right at that moment, an insect flies directly into the bouncer's nose, resulting in a very minor panic on the part of the larger man. Longshot mutters, "Wow, rotten luck, friend," and steps on through to the inside while the man tries to clear his nostril. Poor guy. Once inside, Longshot makes his way to the bar, leaning against the polished wood while he tries to get the attention of the barkeeper. Booze is in order, and plenty of it.

*

While not a mutant, but not 'normal', Jessica Jones had gained entrance easily enough through her winning personality (HA!) and general politeness (double HA!) — which had both consisted of cursing,and comments about booze and whether anyone wanted her money. Fortunately, the bartender recognized her from when she'd set out after Remy Le Beau in this particular bar, and had permitted her entrance after muttering that she looked like hell. She'd laughed at the censure.

Currently, she sits at the bar, perched atop a barstool with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of her. She lifts a finger at the bartender (who is no longer listening), and offers, "I've got a problem for you — " the finger waggles " — Jessica orders one large bottle of whiskey. She drinks half. What does Jessica have?"

The bartender rolls his eyes, "Alcoholism?" She's been getting increasingly irritating.

Jessica's lips open only to close. Her eyebrows lift and she smirks in appreciation before nodding slightly. "I like you," she mutters. "The guy at the front called you an asshole, but the snark," she nods slightly, "you get points. They're worth shit, but you have them~"

*

Drunk girl at the bar gets a smirk, and Longshot manages to order a beer from the bartender, trading a couple of his hard-earned dollars for a bottle. He's not very picky about the brand or the style, and doesn't even bother looking at the label before bringing it up to his lips for a swig. He slides onto the stool beside Jessica, and looks toward her again, and then to the half-empty bottle. "You finish all that yourself?"

*

Jessica's eyes roll at the question, and her lips hitch up on one side. "Day drinking is one of my special skills." Her eyebrows lift, "You should see my resume." Her nose wrinkles, "Not sure whether that should count as a hobby or a special skill, but it sure as hell fits somewhere." Her fingers drum against the bar in front of her and her head cants to read the label on the beer. "Good day?" she asks after inspecting his drink.

*

"Hey, you can classify it however you want, most people will still call you a drunk," Longshot says, lifting his glass in a mock toast. "Cheers," he offers before taking another swig from the bottle. "Good enough, I suppose. I've still got all my fingers, so can't complain too much," he says, wiggling one five-fingered hand for show. "Managed to get out of Hell's Kitchen without bein' eaten by a vampire, or something just as crazy," he comments, giving a shrug. "You celebrating something, or is this just another Tuesday?" No judgement, just making conversation.

*

"Cheers," she takes a swig from the glass she's been using, although its purpose is unknown when she's the only one drinking from her bottle. "Sounds like a beer day for you then," she agrees quietly. Slowly, idly, Jessica's head lulls to the side to inspect Longshot carefully. Her eyes narrow and her fingers drum on the counter again. "Is it really Tuesday?" she asks as her eyes flit upwards towards the ceiling. After the question, she settles in to ponder her answer, and after a few beats lands on: "No celebration." She blinks hard and offers another smirk, "Nothing worth celebrating when Hell takes over the Kitchen. And we thought we had it bad before everything went to shit." Her tongue clucks. "Shows what we know."

*

"Eh, beer's cheap. I drink what I can get, not too picky about it," Longshot says with a shrug. "Tuesday, unless I missed one along the way. Won't rule it out, but I'm pretty sure," he says. The comment about 'nothing to celebrate' gets a smirk, and then a nod. She's not wrong. "I know some people who would try to tell you that every day is a blessing, and you're lucky to be alive, ever new day you wake up breathing is worth celebrating." Another swig from his beer. "Those people are assholes," he states rather definitively. "What the fuck kind of world are we livin' in, where there are goddamn vampires wandering around," he asks. Probably rhetorically.

*

The comment about every day as a blessing causes Jessica's expression to sour. She tucks into her whiskey until he calls those people assholes, winning Longshot an edge of a smile. "They are assholes. And they have no fucking idea what the real world looks like. There's nothing to celebrate right now. Hell is literally at our doorstep and we can't do fuck about it." She lifts a hand, "And besides, before all the shit went down, what was so great? We still lived in fucking hell, just some other version of it." She lifts her glass again, evidently Longshot has merited some semblance of respect. "So here I sit, aiming to forget. Even for awhile."

*

Longshot clinks his bottle against Jessica's glass, and drinks. "World's been pretty much shit for me since I was a kid. Hasn't gotten much better as an adult," he complains, because let's call it what it is. "Doesn't seem to matter much what you do to try to fix your situation, right? Always something bad coming down the pipe. I'm supposed to be lucky, but it's all short-term. If my powers worked the way they were supposed to, I'd be a fuckin' movie star right now," he grumbles. "Instead, sitting in a crummy bar drinkin' cheap beer, counting myself fortunate to not be something's dinner. What a fuckin' world."

*

"And heroism is bullshit too," Jessica adds to Longshot's thoughts. "Like, I tried that whole costumed hero thing, and," she shrugs and waves a hand flippantly. "Bullshit. No one is perfect. Nothing is black and white. Show me someone who thinks they're just and I'll show you a fool." Her eyes narrow. "Fuck them and their hero routines. They're full of shit, and the only ones that don't know it are them. Minimizing the hell in the Kitchen is fine. Wearing a goddamned costume while espousing some kind of philosophical rabble? Those people deserve to be called out."

*

Jessica has disconnected.

*

Jessica has connected.

*

"Couldn't agree more," Longshot says with a nod. "All for helpin' out, but if you need to wear a mask, says more about what you've got to hide than whatever good you think you're doing'," he comments. "You've gotta own it, just like anything else. You want to do something good in the world, I say all the more power to you, but don't hide who you are doin' it." He drinks again. It should be noted at this point that Longshot is a bit of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, and the half a beer he's downed is already starting to go to his head, which may go a long way to explaining the outpouring of opinion here. "Fuck those guys," he says, setting the bottle down a little harder than intended. "'m Arthur," he says by way of introduction, "But call me Longshot."

*

There's another flicker of a smile Longshot's opinions. Jones nods and then offers in return, "Jessica." Pause. "Jones. Jessica Jones." She shrugs. "No fancy name on this side." Not anymore, anyways. Jewel is long gone — a relic of a day gone by. "So why Longshot?" her lips purse pensively.

*

"Longshot was my stage name," he explains, the alcohol making him a little more free with his past than he probably ought to be. "They called me that because it never seemed to matter how dangerous a stunt was, I always pulled it out by the skin of my teeth. Pure luck," he says. "The name kinda stuck." He drinks again, and then offers a hand to Jessica to shake, "Good to meet you, Jessica Jones," he says. "Nice to meet a realist, for a change."

*

"Stage name?" Jessica squints and then lifts a hand. "Wait wait wait wait! What kind of show did you do?" She leans forward and smirks slightly. "What kinds of stunts? Like…" her eyebrows draw together, "getting shot out of a cannon? Because, seriously? I would watch that." She nods slightly, "Yeah, I would definitely watch that." Her tongue clucks at the last and she can't help the smile that tugs at the edges of her lips, "Agreed. Good to meet you, Longshot. So many sunny side up people around here. S'not good. Not for anyone."

*

"Acrobatics, mostly," Longshot says. "High-wire, trapeze. But with flames, razor blades, and swords. The guy who got shot out the cannon was Old Abe." Yep, it's exactly what it sounds like. Longshot the ex-circus performer. "Long time ago, though. Now it's just Longshot, without the 'Incredible'. Don't miss it much, but the paycheque was a nice perk," he says with a shrug.

*

Jessica shrugs and then nods. "You just got a lot more interesting." She cants her head to the side and she lifts her glass in the air for another cheers before downing the rest of the tumbler full of whiskey. She breathes out a long breath following the burn of the whiskey. A moment later, she forces. "You're right. No masks. Just people. Makes more sense than that heroism act. People are wrong if they think spandex make them heroes." Her tongue clucks.

*

Longshot cheers once again, and chugs back the rest of the beer before signalling to the barkeep for another. "Well, I aim to please," he says to Jessica, no doubt earning an eye-roll from the man behind the counter. Longshot can't possibly be the first guy to find Jessica half a bottle of whiskey deep and think he's got a shot in hell. "People are wrong about most things, I find," he makes another motion to the bartender, signalling for a bottle of whatever whiskey Jessica is drinking for the road. "You attached to this place?"

*

Jessica slides off the seat and notes, "HA. I'm not attached to anywhere. Nowhere. Hell, I'm not even attached to my apartment, and my business name is on the door." She shoots him a wry smile and shrugs her shoulders. "Have a place in mind?" she eyebrows lift expectantly. For someone who drank half a bottle of whiskey, she's oddly able to stay vertical.

*

"Longshot chuckles, and slides off the stool himself. He's a bit less steady on his feet than Jessica, but he's doing alright. Lightweight. "I dunno," he says. "Sure there's a spot somewhere. Park bench. Steps of someone's apartment building. Just didn't want to stay cooped up in here," he says with a shrug. "All else fails, head back to the motel. Nobody's gonna give us a hard time for drinkin' there," he says.
"

*

"Alright," Jessica's chin drops into a nod of ascent. Evidently, she's happy to leave her bar perch. She slaps a few bills on the bar and slides them even closer to the bartender. "See ya in a couple of days — " evidently this is on her regular circuit. "Let's go Longshot. If we're lucky we won't fucking run into more of those goddamned nightmares invading this hell hole." That said, she strides, slightly unsteadily, towards the exit.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License