#jessie has recurring delusions/hallucinations that the joseph statue was not actually blown up.

[adelaidedrubman]

wip weekend!

tagged today by @inafieldofdaisies to share a wip, thank you!! no pressure (seriously i know some of y’all just posted) tags to @henbased @unholymilf @florbelles @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @shallow-gravy @derelictheretic @poetikat @roofgeese @schoute @deputyash @wrathfulrook @v0idbuggy @trench-rot @confidentandgood @corvosattano @afarcryfrommymain @sukoshimikan @voidika @strangefable @jackiesarch @harmonyowl @josephslittledeputy @g0dspeeed @purplehairsecretlair @blissfulalchemist @nightbloodbix @jacobsneed and anyone with things to share!

truly had one foot in the darkness and one in the hello kitty roller skate with writing lately, so here’s a taste of both. first, one of the (many) clunky expository bits of hl&s:

“The Admiral?” John repeated with a curious smile. “Might I ask who that is?”

Jessie’s eyes grew more dangerously alight yet. “You’re so funny, John!” She forced out laughter, eyes bulging wider than he thought possible with each sharp bark. “See how he managed to charm me so quick? He’s so fuckin’ funny.” She gave him a look that bore no hint of amusement. “Of course he fuckin’ knows who The Admiral is.”

“Of course.” Was he really catching flack from the woman who didn’t even know who the Ryes were — seemingly didn’t even know who his own family was, for that matter — for not being familiar with someone in the County?

What the hell kind of person could that level of recluse even get offended at him for not —

Oh.

Of course.

He did know.

“The Admiral is a fish,” he said, trying not to sound exasperated by the revelation.

“A fish,” Jessie laughed, slapping him on the back a little too hard. “I told you, he’s funny.”

“Well, not like anyone’s actually gonna catch him, anyways,” Adelaide sighed with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They never do. But everyone who pays the entry fee gets admission to the big ol’ Fish Fry we do after to cook up whatever they did manage to catch and get blackout drunk on party liquor.”

“I can do that at home without an entry fee,” Jessie scoffed.

“And this year, we’re co-hosting! Cook out’s gonna be over at the Ryes’ place, since they got everything set up nice from all the barbecues they hold any —”

“How much is the entry fee?” John asked.

Adelaide tilted her head to the side, pausing before she answered. She raked her eyes over him from head to toe and back up again, then allowed them to drift over his shoulder towards the boat parked in the slip behind him.

She crossed her arms over her chest, raising her chin before rattling off with ease, “Ninety bucks a person, one seventy-five for couples, three-fifty for a group of four.”

Oh, good. He was worried she would attempt to charge him something unreasonable.

He flashed her a smile; reached into his back pocket to slide two hundred dollar bills out pressed between his fingers. “Keep the change,” he hummed, holding the bills out in offering. “But do enter us as a couple.”

aaaand it wouldn’t be wip day without jessie being normcore and reasonable in wildfire:

“Hey, Jessie!” Another face materializing from the crowd — and what made them think they had the right to address her by first name? Just because they’d heard Tracey do it? Or else seen — “We were all wondering how you were gonna manage to top blowing up that statue, but you did it! I can’t wait to see how you’re gonna stick it to Faith next!”

“Gonna blow that shit up for real, this time,” Jestiny grunted with a nod as she turned on her heels to cross the length of the room, search the next set of drawers. “Can you stop gawking and help me fucking look?” she demanded, struggling to breath. She could feel the rot settle inside the wound of her arm, feel something diseased and corrupting and deadly crawling inside her that it was quickly approaching too late to flush out. “I need those fucking pills, fuck him if he took them back. How’d he even get in here? I —”

“Who’s he?”

“Deputy!” a bright and smiling face appeared beside her as she stood, fists clenched and scanning the medical supplies lining the shelves. “Is it true what folks have been saying about what you have planned next?”

“What —”

“Hey, maybe give her some space right —”

“Are you really heading back to the Valley to blow up that eyesore sign John Seed put up in the mountains there?” 

What? 

“We’ll all be sorry to lose you around here for a bit, but man does just picturing the look on John’s face make it —” 

Whatever sick, wretched thing had burrowed and coiled itself into the flesh of her wounded arm suddenly sprang to life, so that she found her hand gripping tight around the throat of the man speaking to throw him against the wall. 

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you —” 

“Where the fuck did you hear that?!” she demanded, hand tightening around his windpipe as her other shoved its heel against his forehead to knock his skull against the brick. “Who the fuck told you that?”