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anarchist-puppet-on-strings · 5 years

Text

Stories Worth Telling

SUMMARY: Jackie only said yes to this interview in hopes of getting people to hate him less.

TW - VERY BRIEF MENTION OF PEDOPHILIA

Jackie’s nervous. He hopes to any higher being that may hear this that he doesn’t look as anxious as he feels. When people see him from afar they see someone calm and collected, a joke or witty comment at the ready. He prays this interview doesn’t reveal what a dorky mess he actually is to the public.

He watches with vague interest as the reporter he’d saved a week ago—Danny—got ready. A notebook was pulled out of her bag, pencil pulled from behind her ear, phone opened to the voice memo app and set on the table between them…. It seems like she really thought this whole thing through huh. Maybe she knew he'd say yes.

He fidgeted uncomfortably. He'd never done this sort of thing before. He’s talked to few people for extended amounts of time as Jackieboy Man and that was to calm a few victims, most being children—this is a journalist. The voice in his mind told him he'd mess this all up and make even more people hate him. Oddly enough, that thought is scarier than some criminals he's fought.

The phone sitting on the table, ready to record their whole conversation is more like a viper than a phone at this point. It stares at him like it’s waiting for him to fuck up once.

“Alrighty then looks like we're nearly ready!” Danny chirped happily. “I’m going to start recording our conversation—if that's okay with you,” she said, shooting him a questioning glance.

Against his better judgement, he swallowed and nodded nervously.

She tapped the screen and suddenly the interview had begun.

“So Jackieboy Man—can I call you Jackie?”

He nodded before catching his mistake. “Err yeah. Go for it.”

“Great,” she said absentmindedly, flipping through her small notebook. “First off: why’d you agree to this interview? You’ve shied away from reporters before.”

His mind blanked and he’s left struggling to pick out coherent thoughts. “Uh, well, I was kinda hoping this would clear up some questions people might have about me? I dunno, make them hate me less? And you seem less demanding and invasive than the other ones who’ve asked.”

She hummed, glancing up at him with a soft smile as she scribbled something down and flipped back a few pages. “What makes you think people hate you?”

He scoffed. “Oh please, I’ve seen the looks I get. And I can hear all the rumors.”

Someone started something saying he’s a leader of some new gang or something. While it’s kinda amusing, it hurts his fragile reputation of being the new hero in the city. Enough people didn’t trust him as it was and he didn’t need some stupid rumor messing things up even worse than they already were.

“Well, what you’re doing is illegal,” she pointed out dryly, giving him a look that he’s all too familiar with. Stay in your lane; it’s not your job. That look always pissed him off.

Jackie couldn’t help but bark a sardonic laugh, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Yeah, well, the cops aren’t doing shit, so I’m steppin’ up instead.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that because now her interest is peaked. Her hazel eyes were glittering in excitement as she leaned forward.

“Ah, I’m sorry; that was uncalled for-”

“No, no,” she said eagerly. “Go ahead. What’re your opinions on the cops?”

Relax, Jay; this is an interview. It’s all about you. You’re not gonna get in trouble… yet.

“Well, I don’t really needta tell anybody how corrupt this city’s justice system is. All I see when I turn on the news is about how some cop abused their power and aren’t gettin’ charged blah blah blah.” Now that he’s clearly listening to himself, he realized how bitter and… sad he sounded.

“It happens pretty often,” Danny noted, pencil scratching against paper.

“Christ, it’s like this happens every few weeks!” He complained, running a hand down his face and over his mask. “It’s stupid! I mean, it’s not hard to be a good person!”

“Is that why you’re doing this?” She cut in. “Because of all the corruption?”

“Well, yeah, why else would I be doin’ all this shit?” He asked. “I have a job and stuff to do. Why would I want to be doin’ something I don’t needta be doin’?”

“People can argue that you don’t have the right to do that. There’s law enforcement after all.”

“Technically we just talked about why we can’t trust the cops but I’ll humor you. Ya can’t just sit around, twiddling your thumbs while you wait for someone to stop the people everyone put in power cuz nobody’s gonna stop them. Sometimes ya have to step up and be karma.”

“That’s… that’s quite the statement. Very raw.”

Jackie hummed.

Silence fell for a minute until Danny spoke again. “A while ago, one of my coworkers caught a video of you stumbling into an alley after a gunfight between two gangs when she arrived on the scene. Did you get hurt?”

Shrugging helplessly, he glanced down at the ground. ”Maybe.”

“Do you… do you get hurt often?” She asked. To Jackie’s disbelief, he heard genuine concern in her voice.

“I mean, yeah… not too often for bad injuries but normally scrapes and bruises here and there every night.” He chuckled. “Most the minor ones are my fault anyways. I’m not exactly graceful.”

More writing.

“Aren’t you scared?” She asked.

“Of what?”

“Getting hurt.”

“Oh, nah, not really,” he said dismissively. “What happens happens. I just brush it off and keep going.”

“Do your family and friends know you’re doing this?” She asked.

He blinked. “What?”

She repeated the question.

“Uh—no. I don’t have any family or friends.” It slipped out before he could stop it.

The look he received was of pure pity. He hated it.

Danny tapped her pencil against the edge of the table, watching as his leg bounced up and down.

“So… tell me about your spray painting.”

“Uhm, what d’ya wanna know?” His brows furrowed. Of all the things she could’ve asked, she asked about that?

She hummed. “Well, what’s with all the messages? You have some pretty meaningful ones plastered across the walls.”

Trying to recall any only resulted in a jumble of memories. All he could really remember is the fumes of paint and the dark shielding him from prying eyes.

“Which ones? I’ve done a lot.”

She flipped through her notes again and pulled out a few pictures stuck between some pages. A bright green eyeball with the optic nerve hanging down with a blue iris and a black pupil was present in every picture but...

Danny spoke before he could examine them of them close enough. “‘Don’t tell me what you want to be; tell me what you want to do.’”

He shrugged. “It’s always what d’ya wanna be when you grow up. I think what you’re gonna do is much more important.”

She furrowed her brows while nodding before moving onto the next one.

“‘Respect existence or expect resistance,’” she read aloud.

“I think that’s pretty self explanatory.”

She gave him a patient smile. “Tell me anyway.”

Jackie sighed heavily. “People don’t respect one another and then suddenly everyone is surprised when others start to say something about it or try to do something. It’s hypocritical.”

Once he made it clear he wasn’t going any further, she continued down the line. “‘Smile because you’re loved.’”

That one made him smile slightly. It’s one of his favorites. “I think reminders are nice. People always have someone who cares, even if they don’t think so.”

She stared at him for a moment before smiling gently. “That’s a nice message.”

“Yeah, I wish people told each other more often.”

“‘Stop being silent.’” She tapped the mute button drawn next to the phrase.

He stared her in the eyes. “Citizens have power. They’re just not using it. They’re trying to scare us into silence and it’s working. We need to do something.

“‘How many have to die?’” She turned the paper towards herself and rattled off, “‘Charlie Unger, Hailey Davis, Michael Crow, Thomas Marsh, Cale Sanders, Macy Parish, Gail Sullivan…’ and there’s many more. These are names of protesters.”

“And people who the cops killed,” Jackie added steelily.

“Why those names?”

“People have argued whether some of these people were “good” or not, but here’s the thing: most of them were children. I know Macy was 16 and the others were mainly older highschool or college students. You can say they were adults but they were still in school. They had things they’ll never get to do now, and they’re not getting their justice. It isn’t fair.”

Danny’s silent as she slid the picture back into her bag. She turned her attention on the next one. “‘Divided we stand, united we fall.’ This is pretty similar to the American motto.”

“Mmm it’s switched around.”

“Why this one? Are you bashing America?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I’m bashing this city. We all have our differences, opinions, and stories, and we let those define us. But when we fall down, we fall together. We have the same fate eventually. We stand divided but we fall united.”

She hummed again (she did that a lot). “What about this one? ‘Always watching?’”

“I don’t remember doing that one.”

Danny frowned. “It has your calling card by it. Or, at least, what looks like it.”

He frowned, turning the picture to face him. The words were jagged and sloppy with little care for how it appeared. But the eye by the words was… wrong. It was black with a combined neon green iris and pupil. It looked… ominous.

“That’s not mine,” he said. He picked it up, trying to figure out where this was. “Do you know where this is?”

She reached over and plucked the photo out of his hand and flipped it over.

In scrawling letters it read: 65830 Detroit Boulevard

Drumming his fingers on his leg, he hummed.

“Can I, ah, take a picture of this?” He asked, flipping it back over and staring at the cryptic words.

“Go ahead.”

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he snapped a picture of the graffiti. He copied the address into the notes app before turning it off and putting it away. He slid the photo back to her so she could shuffle them back into her notebook.

She cleared her throat after a minute and continued. “Your latest stunt caused some controversy. People say you have no right to reveal people’s personal information like you did.”

“I’d say those rights are forfeited when you’re caught doin’ illegal things.”

“So it can be argued that your rights are forfeited as well?” She pointed out, jabbing her pencil at him.

He shrugged again. “I mean, yeah, sure.”

The answer must’ve let Danny down. “You’re pretty nonchalant about all this.”

He smiled. “Well, at least I know where my morals lie. I’m happy to say I’m not on the deep web watching little kids like McCallister was.”

At the mention of that, she became uncomfortable. “Why’d you reveal that information to the public?”

Jackie grinned. “Because he couldn’t be left off the hook with the whole city angry, no matter how corrupt the cops are. Even if he escapes criminal charges—which I doubt—people’ll throw him outta office. You have ta get people’s attention for them to listen.”

“I… I think that’s enough for now…” She said weakly.

“Oh? Am I free to go?” He asked.

She shoved her notebook into her bag and picked up her phone. “Sure, just give me some contact info, so I can get in touch to ask follow up questions.” It sounded like she didn’t realize what she’s saying. Contact info from a hero? Psssh.

He laughed as he made his way to the open window. “Nah, you’ll see me around. Just holler.”

“Hey! Wait!” She sputtered.

It’s too late—he’d already swung his legs over the windowsill and dropped down onto the fire escape.

Danny rushed to the window and peered out, watching him vault over the railing and drop into the darkness of the alleyway. She sighed, phone clutched in her hand. She looked at the new recording named by the date and time. “Oh well, at least I have this.”

This would be the biggest story since Jackie’s appearance—maybe even bigger! She could feel it.

(A/N) I’VE WORKED ON THIS FOR D A Y S AND IT’S FINALLY DONE!!!

Tag list: @assbutt-of-the-readers, @stuck-in-a-l-o-o-p, @bloodsoakedheretic

#anarchist tries to write #let me help pick up the pieces #jacksepticeye #jse fanfiction #jackieboy man #firecracker #danny de luna #character analysis #swearing #anxiety #vandalism #vigilante #brief mention of past injuries #interview #corrupt politicians #corrupt police

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