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[heisenbitch]

[ Stretching his hands out so he can tick a list off with his fingers. ]

Okay, so. Bacon. Cheese. Crap loads of cheese. Hot sausage. More cheese. [ Jesse pauses and glances over at the menu board, while fidgeting with the finger he's yet to tick off. ] What about pulled pork?

[d33tached]

[More nose wrinkling.]

Jesse, can you please stop referring to the amount of cheese as...

That.

[Seriously. Disgusting.]

As for that pulled pork you've mentioned, I'm afraid I'm not familiar.

With pork, of course, just not the, ah...pulled variety. [???]

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse rolls his eyes, though in a good-natured way. ]

Okay. Butt loads of cheese. Better?

[d33tached]

No.

[Stop talking about poop and butts, Jesse, oh my God.]

Goodness, just say "a lot".

[heisenbitch]

Yeah, but - "a lotta cheese". [ He intones this in a mock flat tone. ] As opposed to a butt load of cheese. [ Spreading his hands out for emphasis, his voice way more animated. ] I mean, it's not a literal butt load of cheese; it's not like you're pulling cheese out of someone's butt. It's a figure of speech.

Like, okay, for instance: You tell someone you just want "a lotta cheese", they ain't gonna pile the cheese on, yo, they're just gonna put, like, maybe a bit more on. 'Cause you haven't emphasised that a lot means a lot. You tell 'em you want a butt load of cheese, on the other hand, you've told 'em you mean a lot, meaning they know without you having to explain that you mean serious business with the cheese.

Following me so far?

[d33tached]

[D33 only makes it about halfway through Jesse's speech before he's cringing, actually starting to feel nauseous at the mental image he's being given - pulling cheese out of someone's butt. Also, what kind of word is "butt" anyway.]

Jesse, please.

The amount of cheese that we are given means little to me, but I cannot stand to listen to any more of this.

It's disgusting.

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse slouches back in his seat. A tiny smile of amusement is playing on his lips, though it's not taunting or cruel or like he's enjoying making D33 feel grossed out. The amusement is... bittersweet. The fact that this guy had so much misery in his life - so much that he finds it hard to even chat about dumb stuff that Jesse doesn't think twice about joking and chatting about.

He rolls his eyes - more to try to appear lighthearted for D33's sake, conceding, rather than derisive towards how uncomfortable D33 is. ]

Okay. A lot of cheese. Better?

[d33tached]

That's what I asked you to call it from the very beginning.

[He's grumbling, but yeah. That's better.]

[heisenbitch]

Okay, Grinch. A meatlovers pizza with a lotta cheese comin' right up.

[ No heat behind Jesse's words, though. He slides out of the booth, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket, and heads across to the counter. He orders that exact pizza, emphasis on ASS LOADS OF CHEESE, along with two root beer floats. Those are made up while Jesse waits, thumped down in front of him in two large glass beer mugs with straws poking out of them, loaded with ice cream and dolloped with a heap of whipped cream on top.

Jesse returns to the booth, setting his float down and sliding the other one across to D33. ]

Bottoms up, yo.

[d33tached]

[D33's brow wrinkles at the bizarre drink that's placed in front of him. He tilts his head to the side a bit, going for the handle of the mug, but stopping there.]

What in the world is this?

[Ice cream - he knows ice cream by now, and he's a fan. He also knows soda. It's the combination that's throwing him off.]

[heisenbitch]

Root beer float. Just trust me.

[ He picks his beer mug up and holds it out in offer of D33 clinging his against Jesse's. Cheers, D33. Not a lot to toast to, considering everything that's happened, but Jesse will toast to D33. He kind of hugely deserves it. ]

[d33tached]

[Well, D33's read a book or two by now - even he knows how to cheer to something. What he's cheering to, he's not sure, but he reluctantly picks up the mug and taps it against Jesse's anyway, a big of foam spilling over onto his hand as he does so.

[Watch this nerd tidy up with a napkin before he attempts to drink this thing, which--

[Oh, good. There are straws on the table. He sticks one of those in there and takes a sip and--

[Yep. Yep. That's the good stuff. Oh, yeah. Yep.]

That's...quite good.

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse, meanwhile, is very Jesse about his first sip. ]

Ohhh, yeahhh. [ Exclaimed in a low voice to himself while he's indulging in the first taste. He looks up at D33's remark. Notices how thoughtful he looks, which Jesse decides must be D33's "shit, I really like this" face. Jesse corrects him: ] You mean it's the bomb.

[d33tached]

The "bomb"? [D33's brow furrows again. He takes another sip. And then his expression shifts into something that would be amusement if he could just muster a smile - but smiles are hard for him.] The way you speak is so profoundly strange.

[heisenbitch]

[ "Profoundly strange", meaning like a dumbass. Jesse knows and accepts this. He doesn't miss the way D33's face softens, though. Not a smile but not hard-faced, either. Like there's amusement tucked behind those hard, guarded eyes of his. Jesse relaxes into a smile for him. ]

Nah, you just gotta remember it's not literal, it's, like, not literally the bomb. It's, y'know, the bomb. Like... [ Sitting back in the booth, with hands coming up to theatrically act out his head exploding and making a explosion noise with his mouth at the same. ] So good, it blows your mind.

[d33tached]

[So good it blows your mind. Well, D33 can relate to that emotion, at least. Pretty much every food he's tried in this world so far has had that effect on him. He shakes his head a bit, and now there is just the tiniest, tiniest hint of a smile on his face as he sucks down a bit of whipped cream through the straw.]

I must admit, Jesse. I find the food in this world to be positively superb. It's nothing like what I had the opportunity to experience in my own.

[heisenbitch]

[ 'I know', Jesse almost replies without thinking. He dips down to take another sip of his drink to swallow that urge back, while looking at D33. Seeing what appears to be an actual smile almost glimmering right on the edges of D33's mouth is nice. Jesse wonders what D33 looks like when he smiles. ]

Yeah? Shit food back at home, huh? [ --oh. Halting from his next sip to correct himself. ] Uh, bad food, I mean.

[d33tached]

Not necessarily.

[D33 takes another sip.]

We had access to food that provided the nutrients necessary to survive. Food such as this, however, [He gestures to the float.] would have been a great luxury.

I consider it to be such now. Truly.

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse idly dips his straw up and down in his float, stirring, listening to D33. He got a glimpse of this in D33's memories. Not in detail, but enough to know... Yeah. Enough. But he'd rather D33 decide what he wants to tell him than reveal that he knows far more than Jesse deeply suspects D33 would ever be comfortable with. ]

Man, so like... What do you call 'em. [ What's the word? —Oh, but then he remembers. ] Rations?

[d33tached]

Meals...?

[D33 wrinkles his nose a little, speaking slowly as if to say, "What do you call the food you eat, stupid."]

[heisenbitch]

No, I mean, like— [ An eyeroll as if to say, "Well, yeah, duh." ] Rations. Rationing out food 'cause there ain't much to around. [ Angling the straw back to his lips for another sip. ] The way you described having access to only stuff to survive sounded like that, anyway.

[d33tached]

[D33 shakes his head, waving his hand a bit, dismissing Jesse's theory.]

There was more than enough food to go around, I can assure you. But the purpose of eating is to provide your body with nutrients.

It simply wasn't done for pleasure. There was no need for such things.

[No need for pleasure, that is. Start giving Numbers little privileges and they begin to get spoiled - or so had been God's logic.

[No, the rationing of food was all part of his control. He controlled what they ate, when they woke up and went to sleep, how they were to interact with one another, what they were to be called - everything that one could possibly control.

[No room for pleasure when you're facing your earthly trials, after all - such things were meant for Heaven.

[The thought very nearly has D33 rolling his eyes.]

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse takes a small, slow sip of his float while looking at D33, then absently returns to fidgeting the straw in a dabbing, up-and-down circle in the drink. God... and back home, in Jesse's world, before he got caught up in everything with Mr. White and Gus, he lived for nothing but pleasure. Excessive, reckless, hedonistic pleasure.

He still lives that way, really. Only it's not with senseless, irresponsible stupidity these days. More senseless desperation for escapism.

What he experienced in D33's memory was... horrific. Devastating, harrowing, grim unlike any grimness Jesse has ever known. A child, treated like a thing, like something that has no right to an identity, no right to joy, pleasure, happiness, love. A childhood.

His mouth twists into a poignant, lopsided line. Makes even more sense to Jesse now, listening to what D33 is saying, why he never reacts with pleasure to anything. Never lets himself just enjoy things. He doesn't let himself because he doesn't know how to do. Pleasure was tortured out of him, denied, forbidden. ]

Jesus. [ He draws in a contemplative breath and looks down at his drink, watching the straw dip in and out of the creamy drink. ] Winding up here musta been a huge shock.

[d33tached]

[By the time Jesse speaks again, D33 has already begun to withdraw. He's probably said too much, he thinks, and he's known to recoil at any sign of sympathy for his situation.

[It's just food, he thinks. But he knows that it's more than that. And he also knows that sometimes he tends to reveal more about himself than he intended through his ignorance.

[He clears his throat, straightening where he sits a bit and abandoning his drink for a moment.]

Is it not for every ImPort?

Of course it was.

[heisenbitch]

Yeah. [ Of course. Yeah, he realises, of course. It was a huge shock for Jesse, just as it is for everybody. D33's comment brings Jesse back to the present, because it's a valid point. ] 'Course, yeah. I just mean...

[ He trails off. It's a valid point D33 makes, but how many people have been in D33's situation? Well. Apart from Eleven. Jesus, Eleven. That poor little girl. She reminds Jesse of D33 - how she was reduced to a number, denied pleasure, just seen as a thing rather than a person. Experimented on. Jesse saw enough into her memories to get a strong realisation of this.

He puffs out a long, quiet breath through his lips. He decides to move away a little from that topic. This is shit D33 no doubt never likes thinking about. ]

How long you been here, anyway? I mean, if that's okay to ask.