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( ic contact & ooc contact & scene starters & texts & hmd & whatever the heck you want )

After reading this character's bio, I got this song stuck in my head, so I thought you might like to hear it.

Ha! He is kind of a dog tbh. Thanks for the link!

[ really, what is 'normal, anyway? probably what you're used to, and Albuquerque is fairly far from what he's used to, and not only because everything is always so fucking flat, and various shades of rust and brown. he's lingered in cities before but they weren't ever quite like this, and everything's always so hot, and the people -- well, odds are he probably wouldn't be in this predicament in BFE Tennessee, mostly because the cell service is shitty anyway. regardless, Chase can't tell if he's the weirdo or if the entire city of Albuquerque is just chock full of weirdos. the guy driving the Uber is, for sure. ]

u no [ now he can't quite spare all the letters, since his attention is divided between the twitchy eyed freak trying to drive them out of town -- or somewhere -- and the screen ]

i expected a litl more concern
about my life
which is aprently on the line rn

[ or maybe mr. crackhead just intends to rob him. jesus, he should have just walked, saved himself some trouble. except it always seems to find him, which might explain why he's linked up with Jesse in the first place. since they're all breaking the rules of conduct now, shredding both the Uber and social contracts into confetti, Chase reaches into the pocket of his flannel and pulls out a semi-crushed packet of cigarettes with his free hand, tapping one out onto his lap as he texts with one thumb: ]

wat if i die
wat then
is there maple syrup in heaven

[ and to the driver, he snaps, "We're literally movin' away from the dot. Stop actin' like I can't see that when it's right in front of my face." he lights the cigarette in a huff of annoyed smoke, weighing his options -- it would be satisfying to pull his belt from the loops of his jeans, bring it up and around this guy's throat and pull hard until he lost consciousness and they ... careened into oncoming traffic, most likely. it's easiest just to wait a couple seconds, where he'll inevitably get held up in traffic (behold, just ahead of them, a sea of brake lights). Chase chooses option B, even though it means this guy will probably just go on to harass someone else, someone potentially more vulnerable than he is. whatever. not his problem. when the car begins to slow behind the cars in front of it, Chase pops the lock on the door and kicks it open, stumbling out before it can even roll to a stop. he books it across the street, hops a fence, hot ash dropping off the end of his cigarette. ]

come get me, asshole
i'm uhhh
walking toward the pollos on los amigos.

[ like it's Jesse's fault in the first place. ]

[ Jesse's pulled away to another room after he texts Chase. Normally, he would probably be a little bit more concerned, but he's already a few hours into drinking and a couple of blunts in. He makes a couple of quick sales, shoving the folded bills into his pockets on his way out of the room. He's about to check his phone again, but he's grabbed by the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled into the bathroom hallway by a couple of girls who already have lines of cocaine cut up on the sink countertop. So, by the time Jesse actually gets around to looking at his phone again, there are a flurry of text messages from Chase, the most important one being come get me. He'll ignore the 'asshole' part, or maybe pretend it's a term of endearment coming from Chase, which it very well may be. ]

see? i knew you'd be fine.
left my car at home
but i'll come meet you
we can walk it

[ The party isn't actually that far from where Chase says he is, so he doesn't bother trying to find a ride. In spite of Jesse's inclination towards reckless behavior, drunk driving is a line he usually doesn't cross unless it's some kind of emergency situation. Which this isn't. Besides, he has shit on him and he's not trying to spend the night in jail and catch a possession charge on top of a DUI. He jogs down the stairs, craning his neck to keep eyes on the wrestling match which is surprisingly still in full-swing. He cringes a little as his sneakers stick to the floor. They'll never get the hardwood back in its original shape. It feels more like a movie theater floor than a living room floor, but whatever. It's not his house, so what does he care? He tells a couple of people he'll be back in a little bit and he's pleased to see another couple of girls appearing clad in bikinis, so even if this match is over by the time they get back it doesn't look like the maple syrup wrestling is going to be wrapping up any time soon.

Jesse pulls a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his hoodie, stopping on the front porch to light one. He thumbs another message to Chase, keeping his phone in hand as he starts down the street. ]

i'm on my way yo
meet me across the street from pollos
i'll be there in like 10

[ The night is cold--in the 40s, in spite of the daytime being decent and sunny. Fall in Albuquerque is notable mainly for the temperature drop. The actual weather doesn't change much and most of the vegetation is shit like succulents and cactuses that don't drop leaves or change color with the seasons.

Jesse shoves his free hand into his pocket as he approaches the spot across the street from Los Pollos Hermanos. The chilled air is still lightly scented by stale fryer grease even though the restaurant's been closed for hours already. He bounces on his heels a little to get the chill out of his bones before he takes his phone out again. ]

i'm here
where u at???
freezing my balls off

[ generally Chase, who's eternally ungrateful and extraordinarily entitled, would bitch about having to walk even more, but right now he's fine not being in a car. in fact, he would prefer not being in a car, so even though it really is cold outside, he's fine shivering and waiting; the walk back will probably warm him up, anyway. Jesse's message comes through and he scans the street for him, catches sight of the beanie first before he makes out the rest of him, and he hustles across the street to link up with him. ]

Right - fuckin' here.

[ Albuquerque, he thinks bitterly, although he relaxes a bit once he's with Jesse, as if Jesse isn't a part of what makes this city off the fucking rails. ignorance is bliss.

he'd managed to lose his damn cigarette in all of that, so he pulls out another one, and then offers one to Jesse. ]

My knight in shining armor, aren't you?

[ Jesse's too busy looking at his phone to notice Chase jogging across the street, so the sudden footsteps and approaching voice startle him, but he doesn't jump. Much. ]

Jesus.

[ He mutters, huffing the word under his breath as he shoves his phone back into his ridiculously deep pockets. It's notably a flip-phone; ancient compared to what everyone else is walking around with. He grabs the offered cigarette even though he's only just crushed one out under his Nike, a fading speck of orange still visible as the ember dies. Working with Mr. White hasn't yet struck the fear of lung cancer into him. He doesn't even think as he cups his hand around the end, lights it, and blows the smoke into the frigid air. ]

That--

[ He starts with a grin. ]

--was the gayest shit I ever heard.

[ Jesse laughs afterward, though, clapping a hand on Chase's back before he swings his leg to pivot, tipping his head as a silent instruction to follow as he starts down the street. ]

So what happened, yo? You have to pull a tuck-and-roll or did you fuck 'im up?

[ He asks, eyes lighting up. He's curious as to what happened with the whole Uber situation. Chase didn't roll up in a car and doesn't appear any worse for the wear. It's also a covert way of finding out if they should hurry the fuck up in case the cops are looking for him. ]

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> ʏᴇᴀʜᴍᴀɢɴᴇᴛs

don't worry about matching length. or we can write fanfiction lol w/e works!!

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