text | un: j.jones
[ jessica jones needs a goddamn drink.
she's read over the network, reviewing each and every post in a desperate frenzy to uncover the truth. this plague — it's hit her hard, not physically but emotionally. the infection has spread to someone close to her, and she has no idea what to do.
she hates feeling so ... helpless. ]
she's read over the network, reviewing each and every post in a desperate frenzy to uncover the truth. this plague — it's hit her hard, not physically but emotionally. the infection has spread to someone close to her, and she has no idea what to do.
she hates feeling so ... helpless. ]
i need answers. this epidemic. it's more than just some flu. it's knocking people out. putting them in a goddamn coma.
nothing is working. not water or food or medicine. i don't give a damn if this involves science or magic bullshit. just tell me. how the hell do we wake them up?

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{ Besides - and he probably should have mentioned this - }
I am a happily married man with twin sons.
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[ she's known plenty of "happily married" assholes who have cheated on their wives. hell, she makes a living off of them. ]
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Have you? { The point.
Vincent's head. }
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i can't tell if you're just an asshole or if you really are that oblivious
[ maybe both. ]
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Who can say? I suppose one can't be both? That would make me interesting, wouldn't it?
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