royalpassport | IC: CONTACT (THE PINES)

[Kenzi makes a B-line directly to Jefferson's room, eyes red and puffy from crying, still mildly covered in streaks of Matt's blood. She just barely knocks before opening his door and staring at him, looking more vulnerable than she's ever been with anyone since she got here.]

Jeff-- Can we-- ... I need to get out of here. Can we go somewhere? I don't wanna be alone.

[Her voice cracks at the end of that sentence. She's not wearing her wedding ring.]

[ Luckily, Jefferson wasn't even asleep. He's been up fretting over the tracker that may or may not be in his leg. And though he had no idea of any conflict between his other housemates, the sight of Kenzi has him immediately bolting out of the bed so that he can pull her into the room protectively. ]

What happened? Are you-- [ He doesn't finish the sentence before he's got both hands on her shoulders, looking her over for any sign of injury. ]

I'm fine. [So fine that she's choking back a sob as she says the words. It's getting harder and harder to lie about her current state of being. She can't keep shoving everything under the rug and ignoring it.]

It's over. The ... marriage, the relationship, whatever the fuck it was, it's over now. He's not who I thought he was. I just-- ... I can't be here right now and I could really use a drink.

[Or ten. Maybe twenty? Probably twenty. She wipes at her eyes, feeling stupid for looking like such a mess in front of Jefferson. He's the most put together person she knows! Even during his breakdowns he looks flawless. Kenzi just looks like Alice Cooper with a serious case of hay fever.]

[ He casts a quick look out the door, into the hall, then shuts the door and locks it. At least the bedside lamp is on, so the room's not in total darkness. Ushering Kenzi to the bed, Jefferson sits down beside her, an arm looped around her small shoulders as he holds her close. ]

We'll go. [ Not even any hesitation there. He doesn't know what happened, but to see her shaken like this, there's no way Jefferson would keep her in this house. ] Did he hurt you?

[ Jefferson may normally be put together, but right now he's just wearing... his underwear. (Look, he was feeling his legs up for a tracker.) He'll have to at least grab some clothes and a scarf if they're going anywhere. But first, he wants to be certain she's okay. ]

Edited 2017-05-27 23:23 (UTC)

[It's not like she hasn't seen him in his underwear before! They live together. Oh god, where is she gonna stay after this? She sinks onto the bed feeling numb, leaning heavily against Jefferson when he sits next to her.]

No. No, he didn't hurt me. [At least not physically.] Blood's not mine. It's Matt's. He-- [She exhales shakily, arms circling around his waist.] He sliced up his leg and I was patching him up. That's not the reason, by the way. I didn't cheat or anything.

[ He leans his head against hers, sighing softly, rubbing her arm. He can do this, even as he's feeling far from his best. It's not so alien to him, being the one offering comfort.

Jefferson stills, though, when Kenzi reveals the source of the blood. The tension's hard to mask, but he tries to push past it, focusing on her rather than himself, for a change. ]

And he's okay? Matt. [ In case he needed to clarify. Jefferson presses a kiss to Kenzi's temple and moves to stand. ] Nevermind. No more dawdling. I'll get dressed, and we can go. [ Where, though? To the hotel he hid out at to get away from his own fake partner, before Kenzi and Brock offered him a place to stay. (Brock, who'd always been so kind to him... But whatever happened, Kenzi's reaction is real. And as the first person he ever connected with here, his loyalty's with her.)

Who can he call? Cassian? Emma? He'll figure it out once they're out of here. Find a payphone or something... ]

Edited 2017-05-28 14:19 (UTC)

[It helps. It helps so much, she's not sure she could even express it right now. Considering she just pushed away the man she thought she-- ... she could have... loved him? Not now. And she brought Jefferson into this house, pulled him into this. It's shitty of her. What kind of friend does that?

Kenzi sniffs, nodding her head.] Yeah, he's fine. He's-- ... he's smart. We were figuring shit out, trying to--

[She doesn't want to freak him out. Maybe now isn't the best time to fill him in. He reacted to that kinda... strangely. Later. She'll tell him later. Anything to distract her from the pain in her chest.

She untangles herself from him so he can get up, falling sideways onto the bed to just kind of lay there, staring at the wall with glassy eyes. Rumlow's furious. Still here. Her ring's on the bed. It was never really hers, but it felt like it. She liked it. Liked him. She didn't even know him.]

Jeff? I think I'm literally going insane... Like... full on, Angelina Jolie in Girl Interrupted, certifiable.

[ He pulls on a pair of trousers, casting Kenzi a look of some alarm when she says that, even if the reference goes over his head entirely. It's, at least, a sentiment he can relate to so fully and painfully. ]

It's the memories in your head, isn't it? Two lives that can't coexist...

[ Shrugging a shirt on, he doesn't bother tucking it in or even buttoning it all the way before he grabs a scarf and quickly drapes it around his neck to cover the scar. This'll do for now. Jefferson moves back to Kenzi, getting on his knees before the bed so that he can take her hands and look her in the eyes, his own wide and sincere. ]

You think you know which memories are real, but they're the ones that sound completely mad. [ He keeps his voice gentle, if emphatic, because this is important, to have a kindred spirit. To offer understanding and be understood in return. ] I know what it's like. Even-- before this place.

Edited 2017-05-29 14:17 (UTC)

Yeah... Yeah, that's totally it--

[She can't reconcile these thoughts. They're too different, but she still isn't sure what's real and what's fabricated because the ones that come back seem so other, so unreal. He hit the nail right on the goddamn head. Kenzi shifts closer when he kneels next to her and stares right back at him, amazed at how he just verbalized what she's been feeling for weeks.]

They can't be real, but they are? But no one's gonna believe me if I tell them everything. [Her brow furrows as she studies his face. All Jefferson's supposed instability, all his breakdowns, it's not his brain that's the problem, it's the memories. Too much lifetime to hold in his head. Dealing with it since before he came here?

She squeezes his hands, bites her lower lip.] Shit, Jefferson, I'm so sorry. I didn't ask-- I didn't even think--...

You can tell me. I swear, you can tell me everything, no judgement. We'll just... keep each other sane, I guess.

[ He shakes his head to show that the apology's unnecessary, and squeezes Kenzi's hand in return. ] We'll do just that. I'll always believe you, Kenzi. You're not insane.

[ He's giving her the words he would've liked to have heard at any point over the past 28 years, because she needs to hear them, because it isn't fair for somebody else to suffer through what he's endured. At least they aren't alone-- others in town must be going through the same. But if she's from a land with magic, thrust into a place like this, a land without... Then they're even more of kindred spirits than he ever knew. ]

We can talk once we're out of this place. Are you ready? [ He'll wait for her confirmation before putting his shoes on and guiding her out of the house, but not a moment before. ]

[That's probably the most reassuring thing she's heard all day. Kenzi nods, righting herself and throwing her arms around Jefferson's neck in a quick hug before she's ready to get the hell out of here.

She has no idea where she's gonna go after this. No idea what Rumlow's going to do or who will remain in the house. All she knows is that she doesn't want to be there. She doesn't want to be near him right now. She needs distance... and alcohol. God, she is dying for a drink right now. Vodka, tequila, anything as long as it's straight out of the bottle and strong enough to numb the pain in her chest.

She just wants to forget for a little while.

Jefferson leads the way. Kenzi clings to his hand like it's a lifeline, keeping her head down and running through the conflict again and again. It's stuck on loop, she just keeps reliving it, trying to pick out something that could have made it turn out differently. The thing is, it wasn't the fact that he didn't come clean with her... it was the fact that he was that person all along.

Eventually, she snaps out of it. She's all cried out, feeling hollow, and-- ... lost? She doesn't recognize this street or any of the houses. I mean, they all look the same in this cookie cutter suburban nightmare, but she hadn't been paying attention at all]

Whose place is this? Are we breaking in? I mean I'm a little rusty, but I could probably swing it if we take out the billion cameras hidden strategically all over the entire town.

[At least she still has her sarcasm.]

[ It's a quiet walk through a quiet night in a quiet town-- which makes it difficult, he imagines, for Kenzi not to be swallowed up in her thoughts. There isn't much he can say, though he tries to strike idle chitchat here and there. At least he settles on a destination pretty quickly: Eliot's house. It's ideal, in that it's private, there's no roommate to worry about, and Jefferson has a key.

He trusts Eliot. Maybe it's a mistake; after all, he and Kenzi trusted Brock, too, and now she's too shaken by whoever he really is to even talk about it. But... At this point, it's Eliot or Emma, and he's not sure how much the Savior remembers. So he's going to have to keep putting his trust in his fake ex. ]

Eliot's. [ With a wry little smirk, Jefferson pulls out his keys and holds one up at Kenzi. ] We won't be doing anything nearly so exciting as breaking and entering. [ And Jefferson may look a touch apologetic on that. You know, between us thieves.

Though he will have to call Weaver's once they're safely inside. Just so Eliot isn't surprised by the sudden company. He hopes, at least, that Kenzi can crash here for the night. If he has to go back to the old house, he can manage. ]

Edited 2017-05-30 17:26 (UTC)

[Oh. OH! Jefferson! That smirk-- that-- holy crap.] He gave you a key to his place?

[There is the teeniest, tiniest, smallest hint of a smile on her face. It's hidden by hair matted by tears and overshadowed by puffy, red eyes, but IT'S THERE! Jeff has a key. Eliot makes him happy. Jeff practically glows when he talks about him.

Kenzi's gonna have to make sure this guy is legit, bECAUSE MODERN MEDICINE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO HELP HIM IF HE EVEN THINKS ABOUT HURTING JEFFERSON IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM! THEY WILL NEVER FIND THE BODY AND IT WILL BE SLOW AND PAINFUL AND VERY, VERY INTENSE!]

He's gonna be cool with this? I mean-- does he know about me? [It's weird, but it's almost like Kenzi is... nervous. She's never met Eliot! And he seems important, so far. Jefferson is important to her, therefore-- Oh god, what if he doesn't like her? What if he HATES her? What if-- She takes a deep breath and lets it all out, slowly. Emotional overload today. She's overtired, paranoid. That's all it is.]

After you, Crushy McEx-liker.

[ Oh god, don't make him flush and feel as foolish as if he were a smitten young boy. Jefferson lets out a teasing and exasperated huff as he steps inside and gently hauls Kenzi in with him. ]

Come on. I'll give him a call. Try not to snoop too much.

[Hopefully Jefferson doesn't notice the utterly wicked smile that appears after he says those words. IT'S BASICALLY PERMISSION! YOU ALL HEARD IT! Try not to snoop too much as in MAKE AN ATTEMPT but you're gonna do it anyway so don't go overboard. He literally unleashed the mischief beast.

As Jeff goes for the phone, Kenzi tip toes around, taking in the little details of the house. The first thing she gravitates to is the bar. Makes sense. Bartender, likes to perfect his craft, perfectionist. OR! ... Raging alcoholic. Which, okay, not a huge concern considering herself. She'll keep an eye on that. Nice decor, though. Fits with the eccentric mental image she has of him via Jefferson's description.

Now to find the bedroom as soon as Jeff's back is turned... What can she get up to in there. Also, resisting the urge to pilfer various trinkets is going to be hard, but she wants to make a good impression! So... nothing above insurable value. Yes. Good rule, Kenzi. Thanks, Kenzi.

She slips away to start examining shelves and going through drawers. Some of the stuff this Eliot dude has is... interesting. No, like, interesting. So interesting, in fact, that she feels like she'd see this kind of shit in Trick's back room at the Dal. Mystical shit. Like... ritual... spell-type shit. Magical shit. Well then. She's starting to like, fear, and get preemptively paranoid about this guy already. Does Jeff know he's into this stuff? Does Jeff KNOW about this stuff? It would be nice to have a conversation about selkies and ogres without someone trying to get you in a straight jacket.

Speaking of straight jackets... and bondage... what's in drawer number three?

Jeff is still on the phone when she comes up behind him. Soooooo quiet. Quiet as a mouse made of air or-- something that doesn't make noise. Look, she's distracted, she can't make good mental comparisons right now! Not when she's carefully positioning the thing in her hand for maximum shock value when it makes contact with Jefferson's ear.

... It's a dildo. Surprise.]

Got you a present!

Edited 2017-06-01 17:26 (UTC)

[ Jefferson might regret his choice of words just as soon as Kenzi goes off on her own, but it's too late now because he's already dialed Weaver's. Luckily, Eliot's understanding, at least from the little bit Jefferson's willing to say over the phone. More than understanding, really, and Jefferson's practically bowled over by the feelings of gratitude practically warming him from the inside.

Just as they're about to start saying their goodbyes-- Jefferson, with a dreamy sort of smile on his lips (is it too obvious in his voice?)-- he feels something... a bit springy prod at his ear, accompanied by Kenzi's chirping voice. ]

What--

[ And he turns his head just enough that he's now face-to-face with-- a fleshy silicon tube, no-- wait, no-- That's not a tube; that's a sex toy. A phallus. Which, not typically something Jefferson would take issue with, except that it's kind of being shoved in his face by Kenzi! So Jefferson lets out an unintelligible yelp, and the last things Eliot will hear before he accidentally hangs up on him: ]

DON'T POKE MY FACE WITH A DILDO--

Edited 2017-06-01 22:17 (UTC)

[Well that's ONE way to get her to laugh!

Jefferson's reaction is everything she'd hoped it would be. He even audibly freaked into the phone, it was... perfect. So good. She feels instantly lighter and so much better already. Just being out of that house...]

What? You want me to poke you with it somewhere else?

[Here, look, she'll just set it down on the nearest table as a conversation starter for whenever Jeff's mancrush comes home. Yeah, it was too obvious. The boy is SMITTEN! Which, obviously, she approves of, but also gives her this persistent, prickly feeling in her chest. Like a finishing nail pushing its way through her heart. It really has more to do with the sense of betrayal and loss than any jealousy or spite, and that's not on Jefferson at all. Therefore! The only thing to do is drown any and all feelings with copious amounts of alcohol.]

We should be drinking. Why aren't we drinking? Did he say we could use the bar? Because I'm using the bar. If I see a bottle of red wine, I might vom or cry, so-- ... shots?

Don't tell anyone this, but Eliot actually likes working at Weaver's enough that he might have stayed past close to help Lantar put various things back in order. That and ...grab a bottle of something that looks interesting. He has no intention of drinking it, he's going to use it to cook with. So it's almost 4 AM when he gets back to the house and ambles, in a freakishly tall way, into the living room, where--huh. That sure is a dildo on the coffee table. He's not sure what he expected from having house guests, but at the very least it looks like it's going to be interesting.

Oh, plus there was Jefferson's screaming on the phone. Was this the dildo in question, he wonders? Have there been multiple dildos out and about? Is he going to find them in his shoes, like cats often stash their toys when they like you?

...anyway. Since he's in his own damn house, he doesn't bother poking around to see who else might be inhabiting it, just flops down on the couch and puts the backs of his heels up on the table, right next to the dildo. "Fancy meeting you here," he ....greets it .........aloud.

Edited 2017-06-05 22:36 (UTC)

The sounds of a large, lanky, elf-man that lives in the clouds, towering above all others is what rouses Kenzi from her shallow sleep. Jefferson is... somewhere. Oh no, she's misplaced her Jefferson. It's fine probably, she's very drunk. Was... very drunk. Is slightly less drunk now? It's hard to tell. All she knows is that there were many shots, this is not her house, and she's incredibly on edge. Like, ridiculously anxious. No, scared. Why?

............... Right. The whole 'breaking up with your fake husband that is secretly a double agent nazi that tried to kill your fake surrogate family' thing. That's a valid reason to be scared, especially when you're in a strange environment and there are sounds that could very well be the aforementioned-fake-husband coming to murder you for leaving or betraying him or something.

Cautiously, Kenzi gets to her feet. She sways slightly, blinking rapidly until she regains some semblance of balance. What even is equilibrium? She sidles against the wall, slowly approaching the source of the sounds. The couch! No weapons... that's fine, we're just investigating. Just checking. Just making sure that it's not--

Oh no he's pretty.

"You must be Jeff's Eliot." She says, face peeking around the corner to size up the sizable hot-hottie on the couch. It's the clothes that tips her off. The clothes and the height. The hair is just a bonus. She smiles cautiously at him, suddenly feeling really weird about being wasted in the dude's house after a fucked up situation without ever having spoken to him before. It's WEIRD! She's weird. Oh god, he's gonna think she's weird.

Wait. Jeff is weird, too. Like, HELLA weird. These guys can't say SHIT!

Psh, Eliot would never call anyone weird! Except Quentin. And Alice. But they're precious nerds, so it's fine. Meanwhile, he slowly cracks open an eye and sits up, peering through the semi-darkness at the gamine, not-un-elf-like herself creature peering around the corner, sitting all the way up and smiling back, more inquisitive than cautious (because, you know, he lives) here. Probably he hasn't possessed the ability to blush since about age 12, but Jeff's Eliot makes him tip his chin down and affect something like throat clearing, or. You know, would be throat clearing on someone else.

"That's me," he elects to say, instead of. Trying to even quantify what's going on there. Much like Jefferson, elsewhere! How delightful. "In all my resplendent glory."

What, should he be trying to pretend he's not fabulous? Fffft. None of that. He pats the couch next to him with one giant paw, serenely, so apparently if anything is especially weird, it's not a train of thought Eliot has managed to board yet. "Sit down. I'm painfully sober, and that can't be allowed to continue."

To help put her at ease, perhaps, or because he's ridiculous, he nudges the table again, dildo accessory quivering on cue. "Is this your friend or mine?"

It's pretty simple to Kenzi. The way Jefferson talks about Eliot, the way he looks... lighter than she's ever seen him before. It's almost like finding Eliot healed his heart. The change has been pretty obvious, even in such a short time. Jefferson's more himself. Less prone to fits of melancholy that hurt to watch because she knows there's nothing she can do to ease his pain. She can't bring Grace back. She can't help the cluttered lives in his head.

Eliot is helping. There's nothing complicated about that. Eliot makes Jefferson happy.

Kenzi smiles at the modest attitude and literally everything coming out of this guy's mouth. She likes him already. Even without being thoroughly saturated with alcohol, she'd like him already.

No longer needing the cover of the wall, she steps out into the room proper, looking more confident already. She still isn't sure if she trusts this guy 100%, but that's probably due to the fact that someone she trusted turned out to be lying to her and also killed a bunch of people and doesn't even feel bad about it. She slept in the same bed with a freakin' Nazi! You don't just get over that.

Pulling her hood up over her hair in a half-assed attempt at disguising her red, puffy eyes, she takes barely coordinated, very large, wobbly steps until she's close enough to the couch that she can just launch herself in its general direction and curl up into a ball next to Eliot.

"It's yours. I was trying to get Jeff to make friends. I think it came on a little too strong... so obviously I had to proudly display it on the table. Exposure therapy." She shrugs, smirking devilishly. "You have a lot of catching up to do. I'll replace your stash, I swear, it was kind of an ...emergency."

There's a reason they keep alcohol in the first aid kit! Of course... that's rubbing alcohol. Don't drink that. Maybe they could invent a first aid, emergency booze kit that is made entirely of tequila to induce blackouts and possible memory loss to numb the pain! Damn. They could be RICH!

IC: CONTACT (THE PINES)

May 21st / Night / ACTION

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LATER, THAT VERY SAME NIGHT

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