[jgk] app

[slippin]

PLAYER INFORMATION

PLAYER: Carolyn
ARE YOU AT LEAST 18 YEARS OLD?: Y
CONTACT: PM
CHARACTERS PLAYED: N/A

CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME: Jimmy McGill (he practices law under the name Saul Goodman)
CANON: Better Call Saul/Breaking Bad
CANON REFERENCE: here u go
CANON POINT: Better Call Saul 5x10, "Something Unforgivable," right after he shows up at Mike's house to harass talk to him
CRAU HISTORY: N/A
AGE: 43
APPEARANCE: what a cool guy
CONTRACT PAYMENT: A time machine 😐

QUESTIONNAIRE:

What does family mean to you and who do you consider a part of your family?

Once upon a time, Jimmy’s sense of family was instinctive—these were the people you cheered up when they were down, celebrated with when they were happy, people you supported and trusted implicitly. Their victories were your victories; their defeats were yours as well. He wasn’t a perfect son by any means (he regularly swiped money from the register at his dad’s store, for one), but he grew up with parents who saw the best in him and loved him for it, and an older brother he thought of as the smartest person in the world.

Things are a great deal more complicated now. Jimmy’s parents are dead. His brother, Chuck, is dead too—he killed himself, the culmination of a bitter battle between the brothers, each trying to outmaneuver the other in and out of court. Although even as an adult Jimmy looked up to Chuck and yearned for his approval, Chuck, it turned out, was nursing years of unspoken resentment toward Jimmy, believing him unworthy of the legal profession. As Jimmy cared for and confided in him, Chuck worked behind the scenes to prevent his law firm from hiring Jimmy, routinely undercutting his brother’s self-confidence to keep him under his thumb and ultimately going so far as to set him up to be arrested. Blindsided by his brother’s contempt for him, Jimmy eventually lashed out, humiliating Chuck during a hearing and “accidentally” letting slip some key details that sent his legal malpractice insurance through the roof, all but forcing him into retirement.

To make a long story short: it’s bad. Jimmy avoids thinking (nevermind talking) about Chuck, for fear of being overwhelmed with guilt. He’s changed his name from McGill to Goodman, severing the last tie between himself and his brother. He thinks of family as a closed book—all his immediate relatives are dead, after all—but the reality’s much more painful. Even his happy memories of Chuck can’t be trusted now—he’s saddled with the knowledge that he “never mattered all that much” (to quote Chuck himself) to the brother he admired and strove to emulate.

That said, he’s also (very) recently married. Ostensibly the marriage is a practical measure—a way to ensure he and his wife, Kim Wexler, enjoy spousal immunity and can’t be compelled to testify against each other—but Jimmy loves and is devoted to her. He shares in Kim’s successes and is happy for her even when he doesn’t quite understand why she’s happy—when she’s delighted at the prospect of spending a full day with pro bono clients, for instance. It takes effort, but he's open and honest with her in a way he can't be with anyone else, and she steadfastly refuses to judge him.

Jimmy’s constantly looking at houses, fantasizing (sometimes aloud) about what it would be like for them to live there together—it’s as if their relationship is a picture he’d like to find the perfect frame for. He may never use the word “family” (or the word “love”…he does, however, use the word “wife” with pretty much anyone who’ll listen), but the sense of togetherness is there.

What is the most frightening thing you've ever done? What part of you did it test the most?

The most harrowing experience of Jimmy's life (thus far! there's still time for things to get worse!) was picking up and transporting seven million dollars in cash through the desert at the behest of his client, drug lord Lalo Salamanca. During his return trip, Jimmy was ambushed by a convoy of armed men. He truly believed he was going to die—at one point a man put a gun to his head—and if it hadn't been for Mike Ehrmantraut’s skill with a sniper rifle, he would have.

The conviction that he was about to die alone in the desert, his brains splattered all over some hardened killer’s shoes, followed by the mad scramble for cover as he watched everyone around him gunned down by Mike, terrified and traumatized him, but the next day or so was even worse. Hauling the money through the desert with a dwindling supply of water and only Mike, not the world’s most warm and understanding individual, for company, Jimmy nearly gave up several times. If finding himself in the middle of a shootout was horrifying, trudging across the desert—cut off from anyone he cared about, his survival incredibly uncertain—was living despair.

It was a test of endurance—literally, sure, but mentally as well. Jimmy couldn’t charm, negotiate with, or pull one over on nature. The bag of tricks he relied on to navigate the world was useless. He had no prospect of solace or consolation; it was entirely possible he could struggle and debase himself (drinking his own urine, for instance) only to die slowly and painfully. What’s more, there was nothing to distract him from the bloodbath he’d barely escaped or the client—dangerous, powerful, and murderous—who’d be waiting for him should he emerge with his life.

An enemy of your faction has asked for a meeting, proposing a truce of sorts to deal with a greater threat. On one hand, there is indeed a threat at hand, but on the other, this person double-crossing you is just as likely an outcome. Do you agree to the meeting? Do you trust them?

Unless the person had a reputation as a bloodthirsty murderer and he had reason to suspect the meeting might turn into a massacre, Jimmy would agree to meet. As a lawyer, he's used to meetings between opposing parties forced to find common ground—and all the maneuvering and posturing that goes along with them. He wouldn't trust the other person—if possible, he'd want to go into the meeting with some kind of leverage or emotional collateral—but he'd still be willing to hear them out. When it comes to people, he has sharp instincts (after all, a con man has to know how to hook a mark), and even if this person is appealing to his faction in bad faith, they might let an important detail slip or shed some light on their motives. Jimmy's at his best when he's in a room with someone (as long as they're not a bloodthirsty murderer) and regardless of the outcome, a face-to-face meeting would give him a better handle on the situation.

You've worked with your Faction awhile now and you feel like the reward of your contract is within reach. But at the last moment, you are told you have even more service to pay beforehand, an obscure clause in the contract being exploited to keep you under your boss's thumb even longer. Your Faction Leader hasn't spoken on this, and might be able to dispute it. Do you go to your leader? Do you argue the dispute yourself? Do you begrudgingly accept the additional work? Something else?

Well, for starters, Jimmy would be gravely offended at having this tactic used on him—he may not be your “traditional” “upstanding” “steadily employed” lawyer, but he does know to read every letter of the fine print and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. His relationship with his boss would color his reaction—he’d spend more time trying to personally persuade someone he was chummy with (and might simply yell at someone if he thought they were trying to screw him over as part of a grudge)—but essentially, he’d start by making some mix of argument and personal appeal in an attempt to change his boss’ mind. He would absolutely demand to see his contract and read it over. If his boss still refused to budge, he’d send out feelers to see if the same thing had happened to any other faction members—as well as what course of action they took and whether they were still bitter about the incident.

His next move would depend on all sorts of variables, so to boil it down: if it turned out he was alone in this, he would…get mad, feel unfairly persecuted, and try to devise a bloodless way to cause his boss to lose face and ideally his position of authority. If possible, he’d want to mess with his boss’ contract in return—maybe using it to convince his boss to back off, maybe revealing it to the Faction Leader to land the boss in deep shit. (He would also not be above indulging in additional petty acts of revenge.)

If it turned out this had happened to a number of people and he trusted his Faction Leader to do right by the members of his faction, he would approach them, present the evidence, and argue his case—but if it turned out the Leader didn’t care or, worse still, had encouraged the boss to exploit his subordinates, Jimmy would likely escalate things further.

POWERS & ABILITIES: Jimmy has no superhuman powers or abilities and zero inclination toward physical combat. What skills he has honed were mainly developed in service of cons: he is very accomplished at faking slip-and-fall accidents, has some experience forging or otherwise fucking with documents (though I wouldn’t put him at the level of an expert), and has written and directed several commercials.

Also he has been to bartending school.

As far as legal areas of expertise, he worked as a public defender for some time and had a brief but flourishing solo practice specializing in elder law—the man knows how to draft a will.

SUITABILITY: Jimmy’s canon features violence, drugs, sex, and crime in all sorts of combinations—although he exists on the periphery of the show’s most violent characters, he tests the bounds of the law often enough that he does occasionally cross paths with them. (And well past his canon point he becomes a “criminal lawyer” who ultimately allies himself with one of the region’s biggest meth manufacturers, helping him rise to prominence and avoid legal trouble.) Even Better Call Saul’s opening episodes find Jimmy representing a trio of teenage boys who, uh, pleasured themselves with a dead person’s head, as well as negotiating with a drug dealer with a hair-trigger temper who’s intent on murdering a couple of idiots for insulting his grandma.

While, at this point in his life, the milieu of drugs and violence isn’t necessarily one Jimmy’s comfortable in, he has begun to court the business of (mostly) nonviolent criminal types and participated in less-than-savory activities—the low-water mark being providing representation for a high-ranking cartel member accused of murder and unwittingly helping him skip bail.

FACTION SUITABILITY:
SHUTEN
Jimmy would not, to put it mildly, be a natural fit here—he avoids physical confrontation whenever possible and is straight-up scared of violence, even as a bystander. While he might be able to turn a blind eye to maiming and possibly even torture occurring in his absence, in the long run, being part of a faction that considers harming others business as usual would wear him down. And while he’s capable of being forthright with select people in select ways, he’s not what you’d call a straight shooter.

But! He is a con man to the hilt and would relish being on the side of the house when it comes to gambling. He’d enjoy thinking up new and interesting ways to part fools from their money (to the point where he might take it too far) and would jump at the chance to use the clan’s gambling interests to further its criminal enterprises. He’d also have ideas for retooling or sprucing up the clan’s image—however, since Shuten is one of the more traditional factions, this might wind up being another point of contention.

TAMAMO
Tamamo’s philosophy of indulgence and pleasure-seeking even to the point of delusion would suit Jimmy perfectly—he’s the kind of person who copes with a near-death experience by booking a fancy hotel room and spending the day being pampered and ordering room service. He believes in celebrating when things are good; when things are bad his first instinct is to find (or invent) an escape.

Jimmy’s good with people and thrives on interaction (another Jimmy McGill coping mechanism: scheduling an endless succession of job interviews so he’s performing for people rather than dwelling on his actual feelings), so the Tamamo’s people-centric business interests would appeal to him. He’d probably—without even consciously planning it—use those interests to make connections, gather information (servers and sex workers overhear a lot!), and scheme a scheme here and there.

As far as potential drawbacks—being in Tamamo would reinforce a lot of his worst impulses (denial, escapism, hedonism) and the emphasis on freedom at all costs would exacerbate his tendency to dodge responsibility and duck out of consequences. Jimmy is capable of discipline and dedication—he just has a habit of taking the easy way out whenever possible, so that potential might be squandered in Tamamo's more relaxed environment. He might lose all perspective and get so wrapped up in the presentation of indulgence and “libertarian bliss” that he endangers the clan’s interests (or just, you know, people's safety). He also gets restless when things are too good, so there’s a strong possibility of self-sabotage.

SUTOKU
The biggest selling point for Jimmy would be the Sutoku’s underdog status—as someone who’s been repeatedly kicked to the curb by the legal establishment (both with and without cause), Jimmy has a huge chip on his shoulder and never met a power structure he didn’t want to dismantle, or at least mock. He’s ambitious enough that he’d want to preserve—if not strengthen—Sutoku’s connections, and a good enough salesman that he could possibly recruit more people to the Alliance. All you need is spite! (He’s also decently skilled with finance—he’s great at ferreting out and exploiting loopholes, and loves rigging the system in his favor, so he’d probably acquit himself well there.)

That said, Sutoku’s core philosophy—that some people are wiser than others, and should make decisions for them—would drive Jimmy insane. He’s not book smart in the least and has bitter first-hand experience with people (namely: his older brother, a prominent attorney who thought Jimmy was a disgrace to the profession) lording their knowledge over him. This, coupled with the emphasis on piety (what?) and asceticism (hard no thanks) would likely offset the goodwill that came with being the underdog.

ENMA
Lmao.

Okay—Jimmy is a lawyer! He does understand, conceptually, the rule of law. And at first he’d be (secretly) honored to have been selected for the Enma—to someone with a law degree from the University of American Samoa, someone repeatedly made to feel like he was a lesser species of lawyer, it would be very validating to be chosen to represent The Forces of Law and Justice. While, again, he’s not academically inclined in the least, he’s hard-working, resourceful, and inventive, and given time could learn Japanese law (or whatever passes for a legal system in Jigoku-chu) and serve the Enma as a lawyer.

But: he would hate it with every fiber of his being. He hates rules and can’t help but pick at them—especially rules that exist simply for the sake of being rules, or protecting the status quo. He’d take a crack at keeping his head down and maintaining a veneer of respectability, but it would only be a matter of time before he lashed out in some way—whether by blowing up at one of his superiors or more subtly undermining the Enma’s workings. And on a personal level, being forced to uphold a system that values order over justice—where the divide is this stark—would be a pretty brutal blow.

(Also he would find it excruciatingly boring.)


SAMPLES

love means never having to say "stop touching my face"
"what would you die for?"
+ bonus TDM toplevel