Jessica

Hey, Jones here. I'm a pbbthh P.I, super-hero (for like half a night anyway), professional trashfire if I'm being honest. I go around digging into people's shit for a paycheck and occasionally find myself helping somebody. And before you ask, yeah, my sunny disposition's been a lifelong thing, more or less. Was a little less than more, a few years ago. But then I stuck my nose somewhere it had no place being, got kidnapped by this one asshole and...well, some yadda yadda's later, here I am.

[Feelings on Kilgrave] Take this from me. If this is the kinda thing you ask about on meet one, you might be in need of an anti-psychotic or twelve. And in case my point went over your head, I'm not talking about this. Fuck off. sigh Alright, fine. The shrink is always saying I need to 'feel my feelings' or some such. And if nothing else, you seem like you want to listen. First off, I think it's important we don't buy into the myth. He's not in love with me. Keeping me in your thoughts and jerking himself raw over my image in his head's not a love-make. His real name's not Kilgrave. It's Kevin. Sorry to disappoint. We never made love. He raped me. He raped me the first time. He raped me every time. If you ever get to talking and he never tells you to do so, don't buy his stories. They're...they're not even lies. They're something lower than that. Anyway, he's the asshole who kidnapped me, took me wherever it was he wanted to go, whether he was actually allowed in or not. I watched him speak his way into five star hotels, Michelin Rated Restaurants, gambling dens, sex clubs, soccer games, anywhere. And before you ask, no. It wasn't his unspoken boyish charm. It was his mind control powers. Don't give me that look. I'm serious. When Kilgrave speaks, he can make you putty in his hands. You'll do whatever he needs. You won't even have the power to ask why. The way it feels is...hard to explain if you haven't been through it. Let's hope you never have to get it.

[Feelings on Trish Walker] What can I say? She's my best friend. From time to time, my only friend. I guess, it's a little more than that. We're sisters, really. When my blood parents bit it in that car crash, I got moved into her house. From the outside, you could have plucked that thing off the It's Patsy, show. Open the front door though, and it was a lifetime of pagent training. Working out. Dieting. Stage practice. If Dorothy caught her eating a crumb from off a diet oreo, she'd be purging her whole lunch a few minutes later. For all that work, she got to be a TV star. Me, I got ignored, by Dorothy and society at large, by comparison. I'm not upset about that, for the record. There's no Cain and Abel, there. Anyway, we were inseparable for some decades. Then Kilgrave found me and...we never really recovered, even after I got away. I just didn't have it in me, I guess.

[Feelings on Malcolm] My neighbor. Probably my second friend...but that's tenuous. Me and he actually have a person in common. Kevin. Yeah, that one. The same asshole who took me, got ahold of him, got him hooked on heroin after. Bad as it was for me, I was always kind of a piece of shit, right? Malcom was somebody. He was into helping people before Kilgrave found him. Then one day, he started shuffling around aimlessly, stealing TVs to trade in for his next fix.

[Feelings on Hogarth] Uhhh...shit. You know, what? Yeah. That's about the long and short of it. She's shit. Terrible, manipulative, lives her life like a side character on House of Cards. She does politics like the sky didn't fall on the city. It's one thing to play with people's lives when the worst you've got coming is a seven-figure suit. It's a whole other when you've got guys who can snap their fingers and turn a few city blocks into a mile of smoke. I've stressed my jaw enough talking about her, so I'll just get to the point. She's really into lying, scheming, women. And people die because she can't keep it in her pants.