hawkeyowa: (stfu i'm beautiful)
[It's not hard to tell that things have gotten tense in the Midwest, starting with protests in Wisconsin, and now coming to protests in Iowa. In lieu of it, Jack has decided to take as much of the edge off as he can, in the form of bundling himself up and toting a sled up the highest hill in town, Mitch loyally at his side and far too excited for his own good.

Yes, the hill is a bit daunting, and he'll probably end up with his fair share of bruises and humiliation by nightfall, but it should be worth it in the end. One he gets to the top, he poses momentarily like a king about to take on an opposing kingdom. He is Macduff, ready to teach Macbeth a lesson. He is William Wallace sans face paint and kilt, replaced with a beanie and jeans. He is Napoleon, Alexander, and Caesar all in one tall, skinny, farm boy form. He has his mighty companion barking and rolling in the snow at his side. This hill is his battlefield, his Tannenburg and Hastings and Antietam all in one.

As he finally sits on his sled and pushes, he flies down the hill with a mighty screech of questionable masculinity battle cry, his dog running after him and barking happily.
]
hawkeyowa: (this is so awkward)
[Back home, Iowa, like most states in the 2,500 mile snowstorm line, have been completely thrashed by waves upon waves of blinding snow. Sure, this winter has been harsh, and the Plains states tend to get plenty of snow, but this is particularly bad. Iowa already had to report that every major highway had ice and snow on it. Snowfall records are almost record-beating.

Of course, this leaves Jack freezing, burrowed in his house, and specifically burrowed under a pile of fleece blankets with his space heater cranked up. Mitch is curled on his couch next to him, and for all anyone knows, Maddie is also burrowed in the blankets, but it's much more difficult to spot her.

Though, one look around his house and it's pretty clear he was preparing for this. There's soup packets and boxes of any number of cracker-related things everywhere, along with another mass of blankets and pillows, and an endless supply of movies he dug up. Unfortunately, all he has to drink is Spring Grove and Olde Main, in which he's chosen the latter to drink. While the weather around town might not be as godawful as the weather back home, Jack is sure acting like it.
]
hawkeyowa: (You're something else entirely.)
[It might seem like a perfectly normal sight. Jack in a winter coat walking Mitch along a path in a snow-filled park. The dog barking at everything that resembles a squirrel. Jack stopping to sit down on a bench for a moment, working on tying a loose lace on his boot. Well, that's as far as the normal gets, because hanging from his other wrist is a little pink line, and if one is to follow it, it would lead down to one very tiny white mustelid, who would almost blend into the snow if it wasn't for a very pink ferret-sized sweater and a very pink harness and leash. While Jack hums to himself and ties his boot, she gets busy tunneling in snow drifts and appearing somewhere else, no worse for the wear, with a pile of snow on her head and nose.

It's all rather cute, but it's slightly disturbing to see a grown man and a manly-looking dog walking with a tiny sweater-clad ferret. Bless what ever makes you happy, you could probably suppose?
]
hawkeyowa: (Urk. Do not want.)
[The floods in Iowa, yet again, did a pretty decent amount of damage. While most of the water may be gone, that doesn't mean his room hasn't had its fair share of mess. The carpet is still soaked, as is the tile in the bathroom. His room alone looks like a tidal wave went through it not too long ago. There's boxes and papers and dirty dishes just about everywhere. A bag of dog food got tipped over at some point and Mitch looks a little heavier and much happier. And then there's Maddie, who has been a wave of destruction all on her own. Every corner in the place has some fecal matter in it, thanks to her.

On top of it all, there's Jack, who is in a Hawkeyes t-shirt from 20 years ago and a pair of boxers, slumped on his couch and snoring loudly. Floods take a lot out of him.
]
hawkeyowa: (dear god put your clothes on)
[So it's nighttime, sure. However, that hasn't stopped the seemingly raging inferno HQ decided to be, nor has it stopped Jack's room from being just as hot. One thing he seems to do when it gets like this is wear just some boxers (and a t-shirt for the sake of decency, since he's not home) and lay in random positions around his room, like that will somehow help. He's even attempted to make a paper fan out of some newspaper, but that's not helping much either.

In his current state, he's flipped upside-down on his couch with his legs propped up on the back of it, fanning himself with incredibly limited success. His dog is in the corner, on his back as well and panting. Maddie, however, being the 103-degrees-on-average creature that she is, is happily crawling all over her owner's legs, kind of looking like Rikki-Tikki-Tavi after killing a snake--that is to say, proud of herself. However, Jack notices the little furball o' warmth crawling on him and puts his hands over his face, groaning in frustration.
]

Maddie, you're like a goddamn torch with fur. Get outta here.

[As expected, limited success. So feel free to bother Jack, agonize with him, or just ask him why he's upside-down in his underwear. It's all good.]


[ooc: Got my Jack-muse back and revamped his personality a tad. :) ]
hawkeyowa: (At least wait until my eyes are closed.)
[Jack kept himself relatively busy today. He knows with spring high in the air, there's cleaning to do...and flooding. It's got him nervous, certainly. Even in HQ, he still has some kind of paranoia, so he re-caulked his bathroom just in case. It's been a big job, especially what with checking for cracks and whatnot in his room, and going so far as to check the plumbing because god forbid anything gets through.

So when Day One of the flood preparation project is done, he slumps down on his bed for what he thinks is a well-deserved rest. Rolling on his side, he yanks off one of his work gloves and going to put it on the bedside table beside his alarm clock. However, he spots a slip of paper just at the base of the clock...something he doesn't remember seeing earlier, and he's walked by that area countless times today. Maybe someone thought he wasn't in and left him a note? Curious, he picks it up, reading over the contents. Suddenly, his face goes pale and he feels an icy sensation creeping in the pits of his stomach. His hands start shaking as he reads it over again.
]


[This had to be a joke. Someone had to be playing a sick...sick joke on him. It was a part of his history he wanted to ignore more than any other part. Considered to be one of the top ten worst human experiments of all time...and one of the very worst psychological experiments, the Monster Study took dozens of orphans around Iowa and examined their ability to learn speech. Positive remarks and rewards were given to half the group of orphans, and the other half were belittled and punished for even the smallest speech flaw. Many developed horrible stutters, and some went mute.

And he was a part of it.

He remembers it all too clearly, and he doesn't--

Wait, he remembers it. He's never remembered anything so negative before. Usually all the traumatic experiences--being war, fighting, bad storms--all went past him and into that demented fallback he had cackling somewhere in his mind. Then why, of all things, does he remember the Monster Study? If it was Hyde who did all the fighting and killing, and picked up on all the horrible things of his past, how come Jack is left with something so sick as this?

'Shit, Jackie. I've done some shitty things before, but to orphans? Now, that is messed up.'

Not even bothering to shut his other side up, it disgusts him deeply that there was one thing he actually did. Even from something in 1939, it reverberates through him now, and images of children--barely even adolescents yet--crying and apologizing in shivering stutters for things they didn't even do wrong...it's haunting him now.

Then there's another thought that stings deep and causes that cold nausea feeling to intensify. Is he any worse than Hyde, really? Is there a crack in that mild-mannered farm boy persona that hints that all is certainly not well?

His first response is to crumple up the paper in his hand (his scarred hand, as if he needed insult to mental injury) and fold one arm across his eyes, fighting back the nauseous feelings shaking him. Sleep certainly won't come easy now, what with these realizations and the memories he hoped so badly that he would forget. One comment from a spokesperson for the school where it was conducted haunts him:

"This is a study that should never be considered defensible in any era...In no way would I ever think of defending this study. In no way. It’s more than unfortunate."
]


[ooc: Okay, basic summary here: in 1939, a professor at the University of Iowa wanted to see if positive and negative remarks would cure children of stuttering. They took orphans into the study, believing that no one would care, and ran the tests. They rewarded half the group, even if they slipped up. The other group was punished rather harshly for even the tiniest slip up in their speech. Yes, a lot of kids developed stutters or chose not to speak at all, and some of those orphans were committed to mental institutions later in life, where some still are.

What I think makes this a little disturbing and why it's considered such a terrible human experiment is because the children ranged from ages 5-15, and were almost disregarded as people and more like little tests. It's a little frightening that it practically happened in our own backyard, and the University just apologized about it in 2001. That, and now the type of study that the professor used is called the 'Iowa Study Method'. I think that would mess Jack up quite a bit, for being a state where supposedly nothing happens.]
hawkeyowa: (I don't think you wanna screw with me.)
[So Jack honestly thought it was all over. He really did. He thought that after everything with Gabe was all said and done, his other half--Hyde, that's the sick bastard's name--would be long gone and shut up for a long time.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Some people have a tendency to plan revenge when they've been wronged. It's even been said to 'beware the quiet ones'. How he managed to convince himself that the very thing that dogged him since he was a child could have ever left over something as simple as a fight is really beyond comprehension. No, suppressing Hyde was like caging a wild tiger. He would remain caged but as soon as he got the chance, he would get out. And that's precisely what he's been planning. He's been watching and monitoring every change in Jack's thought, preparing for when he was mentally at his weakest.

It took a good amount of time. There was a lot of waiting and thinking. He knew he wouldn't go on a rampage, since Hyde as always told himself that he's a classy sort, and not one to go into a mindless sort of havoc without rhyme or reason. After all, why waste the effort on finding the prey if the prey comes to you? The bait was already set, unknowingly by Hyde's own doing. The bait itself? Jack's injuries. They healed up well so far, since Jack is certainly beyond human. However, Jack does have friends, as much as Hyde despises the idea. Friends check on others when they've been injured, don't they? Then someone would come along eventually, asking Jack if he was okay, and if he needed anything. Hyde was anticipating this.

When it happened, he would act. One aspect of Hyde is that he's a fantastic actor. Playing as Jack is his forte and his most refined performance. It would go on that way, with light and regular conversation. Then, when his prey wasn't expecting it, he would quit the act and shatter his mask for the moment. It's revenge, he believes. It's revenge on Jack for using him like a shield, for pushing him back when really he wanted to be equal with him, and for treating him like a caged monster. It's also revenge on others that he's contemplating. After all, Iowa has never started a war. Iowa has never asked for political things without someone moving first. Iowa has never made up its own weather. It's always someone else.

Now he sits in Jack's room, sprawling out languidly on his couch, admiring the plaster swirls in the ceiling. It's taken a lot to get Jack into Hyde's former position of being pushed back and caged up. The effort wore him out for the moment, and he's taken the moment to relax and wait.
]
hawkeyowa: (Peace-love and all that business.)
[Sore. Still sore. Jack has healed up mostly, save for a persisting soreness in his hand where the scarring from the stitching is a fresh, glossy pink and sometimes, if he moves his head wrong, the base of his skull and his neck hurt. However, he knows the meaning of exercising his wounds and has been doing a few head rolls every hour and flexing his hand, no matter how much it seemed to sting.

So perhaps this has been one of those moments of 'what timing!' when he gets this news. He knows he shouldn't be surprised, since the issue has been going all around his government for years now. But it does surprise him without fail. Part of him is saying 'how did I get away with this?' and another part of him is saying 'this is awesome!'. It feels strange, like a half of an effort where so many other places around him take so much time trying to make things like this happen.

However, this is a pretty good victory. In a few short pushes, the drug should be fully legal in no time at all. So while leaning back on his bed, laptop humming away on his lap, he looks over the article again, a crooked sort of amused smile on his face.
]

Hah. Sounds good to me.
hawkeyowa: (At least wait until my eyes are closed.)
[After this took place, Jack managed to quite literally drag himself back to his room. Once he got back, all he got around to doing was wrapping his horribly mangled hand in a few layers of toilet paper before collapsing on his bed and waiting until he felt well enough to put himself back together better than he initially could.

He's a bloody mess and smells of blood and vomit, which is all over him. His mental state is flickering violently and the loss of blood is causing some pretty nasty hallucinations. Quite plainly, he's a wreck. Good luck to anyone who finds him. :(
]
hawkeyowa: (Eh that's how it goes.)
[It's been one hundred and sixty-three years to the day that Jack obtained statehood. One hundred and sixty-two years prior, he hardly guessed he would get this far. Of course, he hasn't celebrated it every year, and he doesn't know if being in HQ for this one makes it any different. After all, he figured that if a cupcake costs an average $1.99 at a grocery store (plus sales tax, but he'll round it to $2.00 even), he would have wasted $326 in the past one hundred and sixty-three years on cupcakes. Thus, he finds it a little bit useless to celebrate.

Even if he thinks that way, he managed to find a cupcake on his end table this morning with a lovely little note from HQ wishing him a happy one hundred sixty third, and hopefully another one hundred and sixty-three to come. Obviously, he can't waste a perfectly good cupcake.

So yes, Happy Birthday, Jack. :)
]
hawkeyowa: (OMGWTFBBQ)
Stuck to random surfaces around HQ and taped on doors all over are flyers, hastily typed up and scribbled on. At the source of it all is one very worried Iowan. He'll just be dashing around the place with a huge butterfly net and binoculars, like it'll help. You can all thank Gabe's drunkenness for the shenanigans about to take place.

Reward if found! )


[ooc: Yep, Mitch and Maddie have been set free (along with Lou's doggie, Jake). Feel free to join the hunt, or just sit around and watch what should be fun times. 8Db]
hawkeyowa: (Default)
Jack is sitting in his room, idly reading 'The Sex Lives of Cannibals' with his ferret draped over one shoulder, sniffing at his ear. Contently, he flips a page and starts reading, until the book magically sucks him in (reading does that to you sometimes) and he's somewhere completely different (he should have known).

Of course, he's not entirely sure what in the world is going on, as he is now wearing his work jeans, a t-shirt with an old lady and a walker saying 'It's Go Time', and a rather fetching pair of neon orange roller skates, all in some weird arena-like-thing with way too much strobe effect going on and the Top 40 blaring almost obnoxiously over speakers. In the middle of it all is an incredibly sparkly disco ball which catches his ADD-like attention for a second.

Well, until he notices the limbo stick. Obviously, he was not meant for this place. Bad ankles and lack of flexibility makes Jack an injured boy. So he scoots over to the railing and holds on for dear life.


What. The. Hell.

hawkeyowa: (oh well)
Oh god, I need a life so bad. Or I need my computer taken away. I'd prefer a life.


Ten Things Meme )

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Jack Ellis

February 2011

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