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(no subject)

who: Johnny and YOU
what: arrival, chaos ensues
where: all over
when: newish

warnings: canon-typical language and violence, probably, references to alcohol abuse

He arrives at the station in something like a fog, a vague memory of how he got here like thinking through a hangover after a particularly rough bender. Everything still hurts, but he's at least upright and moving, so he exits the train and keeps going. Not Reseda or Encino or anywhere he should be, but maybe that's a good thing. Change of pace.

He wanders through the town when he finds it. There's a bar, and it's his first stop. A few drinks just to take the edge off, to get the fight with Kreese out of his head and dull the aches and pains. He wanders the streets after, miserable and lost and confused about the whole damn thing. Eventually finds his apartment, where he settles in after wandering the halls like a hobo.

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"Wavery, Waverly, Wavering...? Something like that," he answers, swallowing back the rest of the bottle and setting it down, signaling for another if she'll give it. He'll take it easy in a minute, but everything's still achey and he still feels like crap besides. He could use more than a little numb, and the edges are just starting to work their way off now. "Sure you're not just trying to follow me home?" he teases, a wider smirk accompanying, but he knows she's just doing her job, probably. Her explanation is probably the truth.

"More than a full six," he answers, because there's no sense in being less than truthful. It's not a brag, just fact, years of working at it. "And what I'm like depends on what's going on, honestly. Nobody tries to pick a fight I'll be cool, promise." He reaches for the bowl of beernuts, because he should probably try to get something in his stomach even if he's not really feeling it.

Jessica really isn't as familiar with the apartments considering she had gone straight into a house with teenagers but the last word triggers her memory as she sets another beer in front of him. "Wavering Road. Okay, I know which one that is now."

Then she snorts at his teasing comment, focused on pouring herself another drink despite the fact that she is working at the moment but the booze doesn't seem to be affecting her. It's almost like she is drinking water rather than straight whiskey. Also, she doesn't quite say no when she finally does look at him again. "Just don't want to get lost if I have to carry you home."

"If anyone tries to pick a fight, they'll get tossed out," She has been in a bar fight or two but she doesn't want to see her place get trashed. Also, it serves as a gentle warning while she braces her hands against the edge of the bar again, still casually hanging out. "I don't tolerate that shit and I've told the staff not to either."

He snorts at her statement that she'd carry him home, looking her over again appraisingly, this time less for aesthetics and more out of practicality.

"I don't think you could do more than roll me over, sorry," he comments, but at least apologetic before taking a pull off the new bottle. But he nods agreeably at the information and warning rolled into one, gives her a lazy salute and a small smile.

"Then you're not gonna get any problems from me, promise."

Her eyes dance with amusement at the statement that she could probably do little more than roll him over and, for a moment, she looks like she has a mischievous secret that she might tell him. But she won’t. She’ll just let him think that unless something happens in the future where she has to prove him wrong.

“Good to know. It would be a shame if I had to kick you out,” She remarks with a lingering smirk.

“So what did you do for work before? Back home?”

Oh, he sees the look. It gains a raised eyebrow, a silent question, but she doesn't explain and he figures it's mostly not his place to pry. He's got his own opinions anyway, and not a lot of reference for thinking otherwise. Maybe she could give him a run for his money in a fight, but carrying him from here to his apartment? Yeah right.

"A shame, huh?" He grins, a little self-conscious considering how shit's been going, but it's a nice sentiment?

The question has Johnny shrugging though, sheepish, although there's an edge of tarnished pride underneath. "Taught karate to teenagers. I was a handyman before that. Lotta odd jobs."

Honestly, she prefers it when people don't know exactly what she can do. She likes having the element of surprise beyond the fact that it was usually just a pain in the ass when people knew you were 'special' in any sort of way. Sometimes they even liked to shoot at you because they wanted to lump you in with the other specials who have saved New York.

She shrugs as he questions her about it being a shame, playing coy and brushing past it for the moment.

"Nothing wrong with those jobs though I don't know how you would have the patience for teaching teenagers. I live with a handful of them and that's enough for me right now," She grumbles but she doesn't really seem all that grouchy when she talks about them.

He whistles in something like sympathy at that particular piece of information.

"Yeah, sometimes I'm not sure how I get through the day with 'em, but they're good kids. They just...need an outlet, you know? Somewhere they can learn to not take people's shit, but like. The right way."

Strike first, strike hard, but have mercy.

"You live with a bunch of teenagers? I lived next door to one and that was almost too much."

"Well, there is definitely a lot of teenagers here if you want to give them an outlet. I know there is a couple of them feeling antsy since the school is shut down or some shit," Jess nods with a bit of a hum. "You can check out the martial arts place. Phoenix Rising or something."

Then she lets out a huff of a laugh while straightening and turning away from him, looking over the line of bottles before picking up the tequila. Coming back, she sets a shot glass in front of him and one in front of herself to fill up halfway.

"At last count, there was...four, I think. Honestly, they could have more in there and I wouldn't know. There's also a bunch of animals," She nudges his shot towards him before picking up her own and giving him a salute. Then she tosses hers back, letting it burn down her throat with a bit of a facial wince.

"Why's the school closed?"

Not that he cares too much, but it seems worth asking. He takes the shot and knocks it back without protest, only an echoing wince of his own. But knowing there's a place he can teach, that's better to know. Good to know he can keep himself busy, maybe.

"I'll have to check the place out. Four teenagers and animals too? Geez, how do you even sleep?"

"I don't know but it was closed when we got here. I guess maybe there is no one to run it?"

It isn't like she can do anything about it even though she has been tempted once or twice to solve the problem just to give them something to do everyday. She takes his shot glass along with her own and places them in the small sink before moving back to grab her whiskey. Maybe she should switch to water after this so she isn't drunk when everyone comes in.

"I think they offer other classes too. I haven't really gone in even though it seems like everyone does god damn karate these days," She mutters a little before giving him a slightly exasperated look. "I don't, not really. But they did put me in the attic which helps at times."

Except for when the two of them decided to go scampering across the roof at all hours of the night, thinking that she can't hear them.

"Hey, what's wrong with karate? It's good stuff. Mind-body or whatever the fuck."

Like he even knows what he's talking about, like he'd cared about it for anything other than the ability to kick somebody's ass for giving him shit. And the confidence boost, but he mostly figured that came with the first part. Like anybody would have given a shit about him before he found Cobra Kai, even for as big of a shitshow as that had turned out to be.

He returns to his own bottle, working his way through methodically, but the rest of her words give him an idea, or at least a half-assed one he's buzzed enough to give voice to.

"Well, you ever need a place to crash, you can come find mine. ...it's got an extra bedroom, so there doesn't have to be any hanky panky. Just a spare bed for some shut-eye if you need it. Not like anybody's using it."

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it. It just seems like everyone does it," She mutters, still thinking about the ninjas she had faced. It was a thing, Johnny.

Sometimes she wonders if maybe she should take one of the classes but she really isn't good at organized anything. Or anything with other people or a teacher type. But she can see why others would like it or how it can be a boost to the ego knowing that one could take care of themselves if needed.

Then she pauses when he suddenly offers the idea of letting her crash at his place. Which amuses her as it filters through her brain and she smirks again. "You know, if you hadn't clarified about the hanky panky part, I would have definitely thought you were just trying to get me into bed. But it's a nice offer, I might have to take you up on it sometime."

He smirks at her words, passing flirting but only for a moment or so.

"Hey, you want to include hanky panky I wouldn't say no, just wanted to make sure you knew it was a...whatsit. Platonic offer. Anything after that's up to you."

But it's good she accepted it. Everybody needs a chill place to escape to with no expectations. Makes him feel like it's some kind of weird victory, even though it's clearly not.

"I'll keep that in mind," She doesn't make it clear where she sits on the idea of adding hanky panky or not but she is smirking at him. She could have made the same offer but her place was filled with the very teenagers that had spurred the offer in the first place.

"I should probably get back to it," She tells him, deciding that she had let herself be distracted long enough. "Let me know if you need another, okay?"

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