» TEST DRIVE #001

[reveriemod]

TEST DRIVE #001

( 0 0 1 ) » WAKE UP

Were you asleep or were you unconscious? It doesn't matter: when you come to, there's an odd taste in your mouth and there's a low-level mechanical hum in the air. Your head hurts and you feel nauseous. You aren't anywhere you know: everything around you is metal, from the floor you lie on all the way to the ceiling. You are dressed in a jumpsuit you definitely weren't wearing before.

"We tried to save the world. I think— I think we did the opposite."

The message repeats on a loop. If you look for its source, you find a comms device on the floor next to you. The logo on its wallpaper says REVERIE TERMINAL. Upon closer inspection, you find the same logo on your jumpsuit.

Welcome to your new home. What choice do you have but to explore your surroundings?

( 0 0 1 . 1 ) » WAKE UP WHERE?

When you wake up, you find that you're not alone. But more importantly, you find that you're in a closet. An empty closet, bar you and your new companion. It's small, cramped, and there is no door that you can see. The ceiling is low, there is barely any lights, only some coming from the tiny flashlight clipped to your suit's shoulder. You cannot be sure that there is any air coming in to the room.

Are these grooves in the wall supposed to mean something?

( 0 0 2 ) » OBSERVATION DECK

There were no windows in the corridor you woke up in and no windows in any of the crew quarters you might have checked for occupants — but there are plenty of windows on the uppermost level of the station, deck 1. In fact, there are windows from floor to ceiling all along the circumference of the station's circular deck, and it's possible to walk along it all. What it shows is a strange solar system you've never seen before and a planet that might resemble one you know, but certainly isn't the same.

You're in space. You don't know where you are. Neither does anyone else.

( 0 0 3 ) » BAR

On deck 3, you find the bar. Tucked away from the crew quarters, it's dimly lit, there are bar stools thrown down on the floor and what looks like some very old drink spills, crusty and dark against the bar top. But there is alcohol here, or at least, what you think is alcohol, in bottles with faded labels, most of them indecipherable. Take a drink, get drunk, start a fight, or start a party? You're stuck on this station, might as well make the most of it, right?

( 0 0 3 . 1 ) » VIRTUAL

But the alcohol isn't even the most interesting part of your discovery (depending on who you are, of course). No, what catches your interest is a second, smaller room off from the main bar room, which looks to be some kind of arcade. There are a few VR sets lined up against one of the walls, and surely, they can't be working, right? Nothing is on this rust bucket. And yet, if you put it on, the display comes to life.

It's a pretty simple HUD, and when you move around in reality, you move around in the virtual world you've just entered. It's a luxurious world, full of brightly, saturated colors, making it just a little obvious that it isn't real. Ahead, there is a jungle, a temple, and a city. You can play around, slay some monsters, have some fun, but you can feel yourself growing hot, like the VR helmet is burning your forehead.

And when you try to take it off, you find that you can't. The HUD glitches, the sound cuts off to a blaring alarm, and an error message appears, in glowing, blinking red letters: FINISH THE MISSION. Will you, despite not knowing what the mission even is, or will you fight to get the helmet off?

( 0 0 4 ) » MALFUNCTIONS

(cw: body horror, bodily functions, gore, blood, death)

The fabricators function well enough, until they don't. One day, one moment, everything's all right — the food doesn't generally taste amazing and sometimes downright awful, but it's nourishing and filling no matter what your dietary needs — and the next, things go a little haywire.

In short, the fabricators are malfunctioning.

Oh, they're still producing food that looks and tastes much the same as before, but now there are some unexpected side effects.

NB: Characters may experience any of the following side effects: nausea ranging from slight to debilitating, the sensation of being happily and affectionately — but not overwhelmingly — drunk, bone-deep exhaustion and weariness that makes it hard to move, or repeated hallucinations of loved ones screaming for help, reaching out to characters and leading them down abandoned corridors or being killed by unseen forces.

The extent to which characters are affected is up to players, as is whether you'd prefer to play this more lightheartedly or tackling more serious themes. If the latter, please provide warnings in subject lines where necessary.

( 0 0 5 ) » NETWORK

The comms device you found next to you when waking up connects to a station-wide network, REVERIE NET. You have the option to post video, voice or text messages.

What will you share?

( 0 0 5 . 1 ) » NETWORK USERNAME

When you first turn on your communication device, it requests for you to pick a username to identify you on the network. It can be anything you want. However, as you try to input a username in your wristband to access the network, you get the following message, along with a small, but irritating, warming sound:

this username is already in use.

What does this mean? Is there other people around? Were there other people around?

( 0 0 6 ) » WILDCARD

The station features a variety of locations, from sleeping quarters free for the claiming to a dirty swimming pool and a bar that still holds alcohol (though some of the bottles seem to have been opened a while ago).

Go wild, but don't wreck the place. It's your home for the foreseeable future, after all.

Comments

002

[rehabbed]

[ It's funny, the way everyone is in a state of panic except for Jesse. Jesse Pinkman, the guy who would have been panicking more than anyone, were he the Jesse Pinkman he used to be.

He's not, though. He's... whatever he's become now. An empty shell. A ghost, walking around inside human skin but disconnected from himself. His magboots clomp softly along the floor as he wanders towards the window, near the guy who appears to be on the brink of a meltdown. Jesse gazes out at the stars, just gazes, eerily silent, eerily calm. Serene, almost. His hair is an unkempt, filthy mess; his beard is a scruffy tangle, and dark bags hang heavy under his eyes, and scars only a few months old slice here and there across his cheeks, his forehead. His gaze is both filled with wonder and hollow as his soul, all at once. ]

Fucked up, isn't it?

[ He says that with the same eerie calmness of his whole demeanour, his voice scratchy and deep. He's smiling, though, a tiny little smile, and that smile, too, is eerily calm. Grateful, even. It's so fucked up they're in space, and Jesse has never been more grateful in all his life. ]

[wentnuclear]

[ Something's off about the stranger. Raleigh drops his hands and makes an effort to at least look like he's got his shit together, but all it takes is one glance to know he's probably ahead of this guy. The other man is a mess, sure, but mostly... Raleigh remembers that hollow gaze, he saw it in the mirror every day for years. He was never quite so relaxed about his own emptiness, though. Maybe space is a welcome alternative to whatever this guy was going through. Torture, from the looks of it.

He rocks back on his heels, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit as he looks back out at the unfamiliar planet. ]

Yeah. I was doing something important, you know.

[rehabbed]

[ Is Jesse relaxed about his emptiness? Not at all. Detached is what he is. Detached, while everything inside him trembles right on the edge of snapping. Really, Jesse is a rabid caged animal ready to lash out at any moment.

But right now? Right now, he's so grateful to be anywhere from those Nazi fucks, that the view of space and that huge, terrifying, looming planet, is enough to almost cause tears to spring to his eyes. He seems, at first, to not be listening to what the guy said. A beat passes just a little too long from Jesse. Truth is, he's not used to conversation anymore. The freedom of conversation. He's forgotten what it's like to be able to be allowed to have an opinion or a thought about anything, to speak up about anything without the terror of being brutally punished for it.

But, then, simple and to the point: ]

Well. You're here now.

[wentnuclear]

[ The response doesn't come right away and Raleigh considers just leaving, because maybe this stranger's not all there and wasn't even talking to him in the first place. But then he does speak again, and... well. It's true. Raleigh just doesn't know what to do about that fact.

Realistically, his life was about to be turned upside down anyway. If the mission succeeded, he'd have to figure out what to do with himself in a Kaiju-free world. But he hadn't really let himself think that far ahead -- both not to jinx it and because it's not his style. He always lives in the moment, and this moment? Isn't one he's handling well. So he turns his focus from the planet to the stranger, since apparently they are talking. Maybe he can do something here. The guy doesn't look injured at first glance, at least nothing fresh enough to need attention, but he's definitely been mistreated for a long time. Raleigh tilts his head and offers what he can. ]

Guess so. Have you been off this level yet? There are showers in the bunk rooms. I was heading back down there, I can show you.

[rehabbed]

[ Showers... That's enough to make Jesse's gaze tear away from the mystifying sight of that huge planet to the guy. Those hollow, deadened eyes of Jesse's seem to lighten just a little with surprise. He stinks and he knows he stinks. He's lived in filth and piss for months. ]

...Really?

[wentnuclear]

[ That gets him a little smile and nod. He'd just been guessing that the guy didn't know, or he would've taken advantage of them already -- and actually, that makes him the only person Raleigh fully trusts not to be lying about having just woken up here. ]

Yeah. No promises about the water pressure, but the one I tested worked and all the rooms looked abandoned.

[rehabbed]

[ Why did he not think to look for showers? Such a simple and basic thing. Guess he's forgotten what being allowed to have simple and basic things, like showers and the choice to have showers, is like, to the point where it doesn't even enter his mind anymore.

But now that this guy has mentioned it... God, the thought of hot water. Of being able to wash himself, feel the comforting embrace of warmth on his skin, to feel clean.

He doesn't return the smile, his expression, outside of the small glimmer of hope in his eyes, remains unnervingly unresponsive. But he nods, quick and a little desperately eager; a nonverbal plea to be shown where these showers are. ]

[wentnuclear]

[ Off they go, then. Raleigh turns and leads the way down the corridor towards the elevator, and hits the button for deck 4. He might as well get his workout in while his new acquaintance is washing up. Something about this guy is making him feel oddly protective, like it's a good idea to keep an eye on him for awhile. Maybe he's just worried the reality of the situation will come crashing down hard once the other man isn't purely relieved to be away from wherever he's been. Pretty much everyone else Raleigh has run into is freaked, after all.

It's not a terribly long ride down but they've got a minute, so he might as well ask now: ]

I'm Raleigh, by the way. What's your name?

[rehabbed]

[ Jesse wordlessly does as he's expected to: Follow. He trails after the guy almost robotically, gaze drifting here and there, at his surroundings. He still can't quite believe he's free. Free to move around. He doesn't have to follow this guy; he could choose to stop, turn around, walk off, if he chooses. Something about that terrifies him as much as it fills him with surreal awe.

The part of him that anticipates punishment for not doing as he's told, that something terrible will happen if he doesn't obey - that's the part that's terrified. Those Nazi fucks made sure to beat that fear right into him until it became part of his bones, and they did it the moment they put a bullet in Andrea's head as punishment for trying to escape and reminded Jesse there was still Brock if he ever misbehaved again.

Upon reaching the elevator, Jesse obediently steps in, and everything about him tenses up the moment those doors shut. Trapped in a small, confined space. His skinny shoulders draw up tight and his hands take to anxiously twisting together. It's just an elevator, he tries to tell himself. It's not a cement hole underground. Hard to think when he can feel darkness starting to close in on him like a noose around his neck.

The man suddenly speaking makes Jesse visibly startle. He snaps his head quickly, like a nervous animal, and peers up at him. He swallows. Not so eerily calm now. ]

J... Jesse.

[wentnuclear]

[ Whoa, easy there. Raleigh blinks at Jesse's sudden and obvious stress, which he really hopes isn't because of him. He's quite a bit bigger and now they're in an enclosed space, but Jesse came along readily enough... hmm. How to handle this? Maybe it's just the elevator, and Raleigh can distract him a little. If it's his presence, he's at a complete loss -- nobody's ever been scared of him before, that he knows of. ]

Where're you from, Jesse?

[rehabbed]

[ Home... The last thing Jesse wants to think about. That noose is tightening even more around his neck. The walls of the elevator feel like they're starting to press in on him. ]

U-Um... I'm. Um.

[ The words seem stuck in his throat. He doesn't want to think about home. He can't. He can't do it. His eyes are starting to glaze over a little. Disappearing into himself again, drifting off to that faraway place that he escapes to in his mind when it's all too much. It's just an elevator, a voice says somewhere in his head. Just a fucking elevator, yo. Stop it. Pull yourself together, Jesse! comes another voice, one that sounds strangely like Mr. White's. That fucker. That asshole fucker. ]

I... I-I just want to get to the shower. If that's... If that's okay.

[wentnuclear]

[ Well that backfired spectacularly. A for effort? Raleigh nods a little, and when he speaks again his voice is gentler, like he's speaking to a startled animal. At least his own stress over the situation is all but forgotten now -- that sort of happens, he knows, when you're faced with someone worse off. You pull your own shit together to try and help. ]

Yeah... of course. I'm sorry.

[ The elevator doors slide open as soon as the words are out and Raleigh lets Jesse exit first, hoping he'll relax a little outside of the confined space. The hallways of the lower decks are claustrophobic for their lack of windows as well, though, and the rooms fairly small. Generous by Raleigh's standards, but he's lived in Shatterdomes and then subsidized housing along the wall for nearly a decade. Not exactly luxury. Maybe he should pick a bigger one for Jesse? He's pretty sure there were a few larger units with a sitting area down past the fitness center. (Opening every single door he passed may have paid off after all.) ]

This way.

[rehabbed]

[ The guy's gentleness and apology go completely unnoticed on Jesse because all he can think of is: I need to get out of here. And the moment the doors open - Jesse lunges out of the elevator like he can't get out of that confined space fast enough. He looks like he's about to leg it, too, go running for his life to escape.

The corridors, though. No windows. Just doors. Jesse darts his attention down one corridor, at the long, tunnel-like futuristic hallway, then quickly snaps his attention towards the other one. Just as long, just as tunnel-like. He much preferred it up on the deck, he realises. The huge window overlooking the stars, the planet, the huge empty void of space.

But with the guy telling him to which way to go - Jesse whips around to look at him mistrustfully, unaware that his breathing has picked up a little. What if this guy is leading him into a trap? What if he's going to chain Jesse up? Lock him up somewhere?

You're being paranoid. Is he, though? It's not like he knows the guy, and it's not like anybody Jesse knows has ever been trustworthy. Except for Mike. He wishes he had a weapon. A knife. A gun. Something. No way he's walking with this guy, or walking in front of him. Jesse points his finger with a shaky jab down the corridor that the guy is directing him towards, and orders in a voice rough with nervous agitation: ]

You first. Walk.

[wentnuclear]

[ Jesse seems to be spiraling a little, his manner growing aggressive with distrust. The corridor is worse than the elevator, somehow, maybe because he doesn't know where he's being led. Raleigh isn't really worried for his safety but he's definitely out of his depth at this point. What did they do to you? he wonders privately, as he tries to project harmlessness. ]

Sure. No problem.

[ He keeps his hands visible and heads down the corridor, mentally measuring the distance between the doors to judge how big the quarters are inside. Still tiny. Should he try to keep Jesse talking, or just play escort and leave him alone for awhile to cool down? Raleigh has absolutely no experience with this kind of trauma, and so doesn't know what's helpful and what'll just make it worse. What could he talk about, anyway? The current situation is too stressful, and asking about home at all went poorly. He's not exactly a star conversationalist most of the time anyway... so he stays quiet as he leads Jesse down towards the fitness center, and the rooms start spacing out. Raleigh slows down, reaching out to open a door at random. ]

Okay, let's find you somewhere decent. Everything's abandoned, so you've probably got your pick.

[ He hasn't chosen a place yet, himself, more occupied with exploring than settling. Soon. ]

[rehabbed]

[ It's good the guy doesn't talk as he leads the way. Jesse is spiralling. He's always spiralling. Always. Even in his stoic silence, he's spiralling. He doesn't know what it means to be stable anymore. He doesn't know what it means to be human anymore.

When the guy stops at a room and opens the door, Jesse halts to eye him. He eyes the doorway, too, and the room beyond. No windows. An uncomfortably enclosed space. There's a bed, though. A proper bed, not a filthy mattress riddled with bedbugs and odorous stains.

He swings his mistrustful gaze back on the guy. Jesse points into the room. ]

In. And stand by the far corner.

[ No way is he walking in first and risking being shut and locked into the room. You may seem like a nice guy, dude, but Jesse in no way trusts you. At least, not yet. ]

[wentnuclear]

[ This is definitely one of the biggest single rooms on the station, and is as empty as everywhere else Raleigh's checked. He glances over his shoulder to consult with Jesse, only to find the other man ordering him inside. ]

...why?

[ He'll comply -- already is, actually, moving in and crossing the distance to the indicated space -- but he looks pretty confused about it since he hadn't been planning to stay and play guard dog while Jesse showered. On the other hand, it's not like he really has anything better to do, he was just going to hit the fitness center and work off some nerves. ]

Did you want me to hang around?

[rehabbed]

Don't ask questions, just do it.

[ But this is the rub, isn't it? On the one hand, Jesse doesn't want anybody near him; he doesn't trust anybody. On the other hand, some terrified part of him is desperate to feel safe, to feel protected by somebody. Except nobody has ever made him feel safe. Except Mike. But Mike has been gone a long time now.

Walking into the room, however... He sweeps his gaze all around, up at the ceiling, the walls, taking in the size of it. And he edges towards the door that seems to lead into the bathroom, where he peeks in to inspect it. And right there: A shower. A toilet, too. An actual flushing toilet. The amazing thought of being able to shower, to not have to shit and piss into a filthy bucket, throws all his panic off-guard. He stares at both for a long moment like he can't believe his luck, like he's overwhelmed by the mere idea of such luxury, such freedom.

When he turns his head to peer back into the room, at the guy over in the corner, there's a different expression on Jesse's face: A little dazed, a little lost. Jesse watches him, assessing him, like he's trying to size up whether to take a risk with trusting the guy or not. ]

...Promise you won't try anything.

[wentnuclear]

[ Fine, no questions. Although he doesn't understand where Jesse's head is at, Raleigh leans against the far wall as the other man examines the bathroom, obediently not moving as he waits for an actual response. He can be patient, when it matters.

The request gets a blink. It's an easy enough promise to make -- Raleigh's not an angel but has never hurt anyone for fun, and Jesse behaving like an abused animal really is triggering a strange protective instinct he's only felt for a few people before. He just needs a little clarification. ]

I promise.

I think the doors lock, but I'll stay and keep an eye out if you want. From here?

[ Can he at least sit down? Standing at attention in the corner is gonna get uncomfortable -- he's still a little wrecked from the battle hey fought before he woke up here. ]

[rehabbed]

[ Assessing silence from Jesse while he stares at the guy. So much staring, like Jesse has forgotten how conversation even works. His eyes swing across to a chair, and he points. You can sit there. And then calm as anything, despite how knotted up with panic he's been since entering the elevator back there, he sets his attention back on the guy. ]

You try anything, I'll kill you.

[ Unnervingly emotionless and matter-of-fact. He hopes the guy won't try anything. Jesse is so sick of death, so sick of killing. But he's not going to let anybody do anything to him anymore, and if that means he has to kill to make that not happen, then that's just the way it has to be. ]

[wentnuclear]

[ ...okay, there are several thoughts running through Raleigh's head right now. Firstly, the possibly hubristic thought that Jesse couldn't take him. Secondly, that he's not in any rush to hang around someone who just tosses out a threat like that as if it's no big deal. Thirdly, wondering if people ever really come back from this level of damaged. A large part of him does still want to help, but worries he'd be setting himself up to fail. An awkward silence stretches between them as he debates just leaving. Why did he have to start giving a shit about people again? Life was much simpler when he didn't care about anything.

It was fucking miserable, but simpler. ]

Right. I'm not gonna try anything, Jesse.

[ Decision made, Raleigh makes his way over to the chair calmly and takes a seat. See? He's just gonna sit here and watch the door for you. Nice and safe. ]

[rehabbed]

[ That awkward silence passes with Jesse still just staring at him. He remains watching him as the guy moves across to the chair and obediently sits down. Then, and only then, does the tension in Jesse's shoulders ease a little. God, he hates this paranoia. He hates not knowing if he can trust his own mind, his own judgement. He hates how every little sound can make him jump. Very slowly, he begins stepping backwards to the bathroom, where he slips inside and closes the door.

Off come his magboots first, which he has trouble figuring out until he finds the clasp holding them together. Then the strange jumpsuit, then the strange underwear, until he's standing there all skin and bone, pale flesh mottled with old faded bruises. Reaching into the shower, he fumbles with the taps, and the noise of water hissing out of the faucet startles him a little. But he steps in, one foot, then the other, and the water rapidly grows close to scalding hot as he holds his hands out and lets the water splash onto his palms.

A laugh of disbelief bubbles out of him, soft and bewildered, followed by an awed little smile. Tears spring to his eyes, and suddenly another laugh erupts out of him, shrill and delighted and incredulous, all at once. The laugh is loud enough to be heard in the next room, and it's hard to tell if he's laughing or crying. ]

[wentnuclear]

[ Raleigh's actually a little surprised by this turn of events, that he's somehow managed to gain even this small measure of trust. But Jesse disappears into the bathroom and shortly there's the sound of water running, and Raleigh is a man of his word -- he stays, keeping an eye on the door and fussing idly with the device he found beside him when he woke up.

When Jesse's laughter reaches him he glances up from the menu on his communicator worriedly. It's a bit unnerving how uncontrolled it sounds, like even if it's purely the product of happiness the other man might slide into hysterics. Hopefully it's nothing but he definitely tunes in more intentionally, listening in case it turns into just crying or stops too suddenly, which could mean Jesse blacked out. He's got to wonder just how much abuse it takes before you have an emotional breakdown over being able to bathe. Maybe not much? But from what he's seen so far it's clear enough Jesse's way past whatever his personal breaking point was.

It's too bad this device he's wearing doesn't have the internet, he'd research how to behave around victims like this. Because that's what the guy is. Even with that threat, and the feeling Raleigh has that Jesse's made good on similar ones before... you don't do this to people. Anyone. But he can't google anything right now, so he'll just have to follow his instincts. Hopefully if he's consistently kind and offers his protection for awhile it'll make a difference. It occurs to him that if he'd ever bothered going to the therapy they offered him after Yancy's death, he might know a thing or two about how to approach someone traumatized, but it had seemed so pointless. No one in the entire world could relate to what he'd gone through, just because it had literally never happened to anyone else. So he'd just shut down instead, because that was less painful than a stranger fumbling through trying to understand.

The water's still running and Jesse's still laughing so Raleigh continues to wait, brainstorming talking points that might not trigger shit from home. ]

[rehabbed]

[ The crying laughter doesn't last too long. Soon, after the initial wave of relieved disbelief wracks through him, Jesse desperately plunges his head under the water, his whole skinny body shrinking into a tight huddle to try and let the hot water cascade over all of him. His hands raise to his face and scrub, and his fingers push through his matted, filthy hair, and that's all he does for the next couple of minutes: Stands under the spray, completely submerged, never more grateful than this very moment of such simple comforts like showers.

When he has to break his face out from under the stream of water for a gasp of air, he is very suddenly struck with the urge to scrub himself. He turns hurriedly and his shaky fingers snatch and fumble at the crusted, old soap that looks like it's been sitting in the soap dish for a decade. He starts lathering, and he starts rubbing it all over his shoulders and arms and chest, his neck, his stomach, rubbing and scrubbing. It's just a quick wash at first, like a guy eager to rid himself of filth and stench, but it quickly begins to descend into something more urgent, more harried. Soon, he's scrubbing - scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, like a man possessed. A man trying to scrub away something that's much further beneath the surface of his skin.

The sickening memory of it all. The disfiguring humiliation and shame and nightmare of it all. Every touch Todd ever laid on him while chaining him up in the meth lab, or chaining him up down in that mildewy cement hole. Scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing - his scarred up face, his bruised arms and chest, his sallow and wasted away legs, all of it. Urgent little noises hitch from his throat every now and again, not quite whimpering but something close to it. And every time he plunges himself back under the near scalding spray of water, a gasp slips out of him, sometimes sounding almost like a laugh, like he can't believe he has access to hot water. Like he can't believe he's free.

Jesse is in the shower far longer than anybody would need to be, and he's still scrubbing. Scrubbing over all the places he's already scrubbed three, four, five times. His skin is beginning to get red raw, from all the scrubbing, from the intensely hot water. The whole bathroom has become one opaque wall of steam. Chances are he might need to be checked up on with how long he's now been in there. ]

[wentnuclear]

[ In this case a long shower is understandable, so Raleigh gives it twice as long as he'd usually take himself before starting to worry a little. As time continues to tick on... yeah, maybe it's time to fish Jesse out. What if the guy did collapse?

He rises from his seat and crosses to the bathroom door, knocking firmly and calling out loud enough to be heard over the water. ]

Jesse? You okay?

[ When there's no response right away, he knocks again. Gives it a few moments before deciding there's more risk in not barging in than in doing so, and presses the door release. If it locks, Jesse didn't bother, as it slides open at his push. Raleigh finds himself hit with a wall of steam so thick and heavy that not only is he barely able to see the opposite wall only a few feet away, it's a little difficult to breathe. That water's too hot, and Jesse's been in here too long. Waving at the steam to clear the room a little, he spots towels set into a shelf on the wall. Perfect. He grabs one and turns to the shower stall, rustling the curtain before just yanking it back. If there's still no answer after this, though, fuck modesty. ]

Jesse! Come on, man.

[rehabbed]

[ That knock startles Jesse so much he clams up, soap slipping out of his hands. That landing on the shower floor startles him, too, makes him flinch and jump, and when he realises the bathroom door is opening, he backs up and finds himself pressed into the corner of the shower, heart racing, mind going blank with terror while also frantically trying to think of some way to defend himself. He stares at that shower curtain rustling, his pulse now thumping in his head, adrenalin searing through him—

And then the shower curtain is yanked back, sudden and sharp, and though his instinct is to lash out, claw with his fingers, punch, fight dirty, scream, he shrinks into a tiny huddle. Those Nazi fucks - they got Jesse trained good. They made sure Jesse never forgot that if he so much as disobeyed ever again, Brock would be next. And that's the conditioned instinct that kicks in now, despite all survival instinct: Brock. Don't disobey in case they go after Brock.

One hand dashes out in defensive surrender, and humiliation fires through him as his other hand grapples at his groin to hide himself with a shaky fumble. D-Don't, is what his body language is silently, shakily pleading, please don't, don't hurt me, I swear to god I'll be good. ]