001 | voice

[hardedged]

[ the network post begins with a disgruntled exhale. great way to start, jones. nice first impression. clearly, this mysterious new arrival is glad to be here. ]

I'll make this quick and painless. The name's Jessica Jones, and I'm looking for answers.

They brand us like cattle. Expect us to play house. Assign crapass jobs.

And of all the places to wage the Cold War 2.0, they pick fucking Florida. [ she scoffs, as if that's somehow the worst offense of all. ] How do we leave this shithole?

[ there's a pointed beat of silence, as she presses her lips together in contemplation. almost as an afterthought, she adds: ]

And where can I get a drink around here? The cheaper, the better.

Comments

voice.

[dreamcatcher]

At least that last one I can answer. There's a bar on 32nd and the waiters dress like pirates but the drinks are strong enough you feel it a week later.

( or, in her instance, she feels them the day after despite her curse. so that has to really be saying something... or seeing fake pirates when she was missing her own meant she drank a little more than she ought have. )

Can't help you with the rest, but if I find it out, I'll let you know, between planning princess parties.

( her tone is very flat, which indicates how much she looooooves her assigned job. )

[hardedged]

[ she scoffs, somewhat amused by that last part. ]

And I thought my job was shit.

[dreamcatcher]

When in doubt, it can always be worse. What do they have you doing?

( if it isn't covered in glitter and tulle, consider it a winner. )

[hardedged]

Some pretentious wine server shit.

[ judging by the tone of her voice, she's more offended than she reasonably ought to be. to her, a princess party planner sounds marginally better. ]

[dreamcatcher]

If you get to bring any of it home after, you already win. The most I can take home is glitter and maybe a tiara if I'm lucky.

( please, everyone, imagine Emma in a 20c tiara. it's important. )

[hardedged]

Better work on your Miss America speech.