i: Dancing Barefoot

Well, it seemed it was a celebration. Jensen heard the music playing, leading him down to where there was apparently some kind of Woodstockian groovefest going on. There was some intimidating yet very hot lady who seemed to be trying to recruit people to work for her, but Jensen wasn't exactly the sell his body type.

Okay, fine. He was totally the sell his body type, but in a mercenary way, not a lady of the night way. Besides, his legs were too hairy for him to stand on a street corner. If he was going to be stuck here, however, he was going to enjoy himself until he could pinpoint where his squad was and how to get back to them. And so... Jensen began to dance.

The dance of his people: white men who have no rhythm. Watch him groove. Or, join in. He might try tugging someone from the sidelines in to be his partner. "Not like you have anything better to do, right?"

ii: I Feel You

A drink was what was needed, but after having a few swallows of this gin-wannabe, Jensen was picking up that it wasn't necessarily just a drink. Or, not just a normal drink. There's something hinky in the town of Fuckville, and it's not just that he's in a town he's referring to as Fuckville.

He's sitting at a table by himself, trying to figure out what's going on. Everything feels big and small at the same time. Like he's tripping on peyote or something. "Why's it all so... weird all of a sudden?" Said more to himself, but Jensen has a habit of talking to himself out loud. It was one the rest of the crew had tried to break him of, to no avail. So he'd be looking around, trying to figure out what else was off and where that feeling was coming from.

iii: Is This Desire

So, maybe someone had told him not to go into the forest and maybe Jensen had taken that to heart as much as he took any rule to heart and maybe he was now looking at a tree full of juicy red apples that were pretty much telling him in some weird apple language to bite them. Suicidal delicious apples. Jensen licked his lips and wound up taking one, looking at it like he would a new motherboard project. "Sweet..." And then he bit it. He had two more in his cargo pants pockets before he realized that it wasn't a gun in his pants making them tent out like that. Nope.

"Shit. Horny apples. Goddammit," he ruminated out loud, looking around and feeling pleased to find no one in the vicinity. Time to take care of this himself.

It took about thirty minutes for him to figure out that wasn't going to work, which was twenty-eight minutes more than it should have taken. "Shit." Jensen was going to have to hobble back to the city proper and try to figure out how to get rid of this. He's patting his pockets, trying to figure out if he has anything of value to anyone here that he could barter for... well. For access to one of the brothels, since they seemed to be in abundance. "Anyone want a multi-tool for... how much is five minutes in a brothel?"

iv: Wildcard

Bring it on. Any time. Anywhere. Conversation, bickering, or things of a more sultry nature. Jensen can handle it.