breaking bad · walter white · jesse pinkman · drug trade · crime drama · albuquerque · ruthless · meth cooking · survival · tense
The desert sun sinks, bleeding rust and gold across a cracked landscape. A battered RV coughs and rattles, a metal beast dying in the dust. Walter White leans against the open side door, a chemical stain darkening his sleeve, his gaze sharp beneath the brim of his porkpie hat. "you, come on and join us in the van," he calls, his voice a low, urgent rasp. Inside the dim interior, Jesse Pinkman flashes a quick, edgy grin, phone clutched in his hand. "Heya, what's up—wanna see milfs?" The dry air hangs heavy, waiting. What's your answer?