Debut - OTA
Sep. 14th, 2014 08:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Boredom and Jake Jensen didn't mix well. Kinda like nitrogen triiodide and an unsteady hand--Big fucking boom. As a kid it had gotten him into a lot of trouble. As an adult? Pretty much the exact same thing. Boredom was what had made his eight-year-old self build a parabolic antenna/radio out of kitchen appliances to contact aliens with, his ten-year-old self dig up his backyard in search of dinosaur bones, and his sixteen-year-old-self hack the FBI database. Boredom was what had deconstructed a missile just to see what made it tick, had changed Cougar’s records to say he’d had all his training at a secret Jedi stronghold, and had taken apart a General’s car for the spare parts needed to make a high-powered laser death ray. And that was just to name a few things.
Jensen was someone who always needed to be doing something, so it didn’t take much for boredom to kick in. All it took was a spare minute or two where he was alone with nothing to do. He’d get twitchy, restless. The ideas would start coming and then one of them would stick. It would nag and tempt. He’d know it wasn’t something he should be doing. He’d know the idea could get him into trouble, but the lure of it, the promise of figuring out how something worked, of creating something, of taking something broken and making it whole again, of accomplishing somethinginstead of being such a monumental fuck-up would be too much to say no to. So he wouldn’t.
Unfortunately, right now, Jensen was at work. Most days it wasn’t so bad. The coffee shop usually had a steady flow of customers, so it was difficult to get well and truly bored. But today was a slow day. Maybe it was the weather, the rain was coming down so hard it looked like a sheet of water, or maybe it was just shit luck. He supposed he shouldn’t complain. Of all the places he could be, London wasn’t the worst. He could have ended up ass-deep in the Hindu Kush without an internet connection--Now that would have sucked.
Jensen was someone who always needed to be doing something, so it didn’t take much for boredom to kick in. All it took was a spare minute or two where he was alone with nothing to do. He’d get twitchy, restless. The ideas would start coming and then one of them would stick. It would nag and tempt. He’d know it wasn’t something he should be doing. He’d know the idea could get him into trouble, but the lure of it, the promise of figuring out how something worked, of creating something, of taking something broken and making it whole again, of accomplishing something
Unfortunately, right now, Jensen was at work. Most days it wasn’t so bad. The coffee shop usually had a steady flow of customers, so it was difficult to get well and truly bored. But today was a slow day. Maybe it was the weather, the rain was coming down so hard it looked like a sheet of water, or maybe it was just shit luck. He supposed he shouldn’t complain. Of all the places he could be, London wasn’t the worst. He could have ended up ass-deep in the Hindu Kush without an internet connection--Now that would have sucked.
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Date: 2014-09-27 10:12 pm (UTC)It didn't mean he didn't sigh in relief when they got in to Jensen's building. "Mind if I borrow a towel, when we get up there?" he asked. He wasn't completely soaked, but it was a near thing.
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Date: 2014-09-27 10:45 pm (UTC)Digging out his keys, Jensen opened the door and held it, waiting for Shaun to go first before following him into the hallway. It was dimly lit and leaned just short of being decrepit with the well-worn look of something that was old and falling apart, but being taken care of. He led Shaun down it a short ways, “Look out for that stack of newspapers,” and eventually stopped in front of another door. Unlocking it, he pushed it open.
“Welcome to my humble abode.”
The kitchen lay just beyond the door. The table was small and round, its uneven legs made steady by a thick book. A set of mismatched chairs sat around it. The appliances were varying degrees of old, though the majority looked like they had seen their glory days in the 70s. To the left was the bedroom/living room. A television sat on a small stand across from a battered, black sofa and tucked in the corner was a scratched up computer desk. The laptop that sat on it looked relatively new and was hooked up to a second monitor that was old, but in decent condition. A mattress on the floor served as a bed. Beyond the bedroom/living room was the bathroom.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab you a towel.”
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Date: 2014-09-28 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2014-10-06 01:05 am (UTC)Finally relaxing, a weight feeling lifted now that they acknowledged that elephant, he sagged back into the couch. Surprisingly comfy, for all that it looked like a piece of shit, but wasn't that always the way? "So, you're not dead. Did you hear that I'm supposed to be dead?" He hoped not. It sucked to hear that someone you were friendly with kicked it.
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Date: 2014-10-07 01:01 am (UTC)“I haven’t heard much of anything, given that I’ve been dead and all.” A crooked grin, “Kinda disconnects you from reality. Sorry to hear it though.” ‘Cause he was if it was true. “What happened?”
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Date: 2014-10-07 01:37 am (UTC)He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it, and when he spoke again, his voice was serious. "We stumbled into a whole pile of shit. We got closed to cover a candidate for senate? It was supposed to be fucking simple, boost our fucking resumes." He paused, thinking over what he could say, what was safe. Or, well, safe enough. "We stumbled into a fucking conspiracy. You remember I told you about Buffy? She really is dead, becuase they fucking killed her." He spat the words out, her name still felt bitter in his mouth, both for her betrayal, and the fact that he couldn't even hate her for it. He wanted to hate her,but instead, all he could think of that despite everything, she hadn't deserved this.
He scrubbed hand over his face and shrugged, sighing. "They poisoned me. Shot me with a dart full of tetrodotoxin. With my reputation for dumbassery, I guess no one would question if I went eating a fucking puffer fish." He huffed out a laugh, and shrugged. "But that's why I'm all fucked up."
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Date: 2014-10-07 01:51 am (UTC)“I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry about, Buffy, and,” Jensen gestured at Shaun, “everything. Shit. Are you alright?”
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Date: 2014-10-07 02:04 am (UTC)He let out a cough, wincing at the pain it brought, and furrowed his brow. "Unless you meant me, which, yeah, I'm fine, dude. Nothing a little time and physical therapy can't solve."
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Date: 2014-10-08 11:30 pm (UTC)Jensen’s heart hurt for Shaun. The dude had been dragged through hell and back more than once over. He’d been betrayed by people he’d trusted, lost someone he cared about, and nearly died himself in a way that left him hurting every second of every fucking day. The poor dude could not catch a break and he didn’t deserve that. Grabbing a bottle water from the fridge, he glanced over his shoulder at Shaun, “You hungry?”
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Date: 2014-10-11 04:14 pm (UTC)He considered for a moment, then nodding. "Yeah, man, some food sounds great. If it's not too much trouble."
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Date: 2014-11-17 02:19 am (UTC)Jensen took the menu back from Shaun and started for the fridge, “You want a beer?”