II. (open) i'm gonna fight with myself til i'm bleeding

[oorah]

featuring: hotdog castle & everyone (open to new arrivals too!!)
what's happening? frank feeding everyone venison dogs; frank fighting everyone; introlog spillover stuff + whatever else you want hmu
day: 11th nighttime (after all new arrivals are out and about/getting settled)
content warnings: ground meat, being a good neighbor, boyfights
notes: hit me up on PM or plurk hotdoge if you want anything else! happy to oblige

A. have you ever had a hot dog cooked by a guy named hotdog? this is going on instastories.

[ the time has come for frank to probably show all you losers what a hot dog is. for posterity or some such. he's been curing deer meat from a recent hunting trip with aloy and after their housemate reigen had soundproofed house six's kitchen, well. it seemed as good a time as any to put his plan in motion. not to mention he's in a good mood for once after encountering his best friend among the new arrivals.

early in the evening, frank will be piping his mixture into homemade casings with the doors to the back deck wide open for anyone to come pester him. and then later on of course he will be cooking them up with mustard he made and onions he found. he will also chop up pickles from the natives for anyone who gets down like that. none of y'all better ever ask him what a hot dog is ever again!!!

if you come in while he's cooking expect to be put to work, and did i mention he'll be downing rosé the whole time? e n j o y.

note: the kitchen is only soundproof when all the doors are closed. he will tell everyone on arrival this, so while he's cooking the doors will be shut but all other times feel free to mingle!! ]

B. the rules of fight club are bring snacks and make sure frank castle stays in bruises. tia for your contribution.

[ after posting up this little gem, frank has been steadily gathering members for his and mike's "club." his garage is a makeshift boxing arena and open for all any time they want to blow off steam or learn some new skills from punching bag himself. or from whoever else is lingering around. feel free to match yourselves and have a fight without him too, he'll ref!

the only rules of fight club are: bring snacks, agree with your partner on tactics: weapons/no weapons, fists only/every man for himself etc etc. AND when one person taps out or doesn't get up the match is over. the garage is approximately 80% soundproof. every fighter must wear wraps on their hands to muffle sound and agree not to shout or make loud noises, even in pain. soft-volume trash talking is allowed and perhaps even encouraged... ]

C. write your own starter or ping me for one!

Comments

[underachievement]

[ New arrivals. New fucking arrivals! Jess thought she was pissed about the heart-shaped chocolate! but her lividity over the expanding population eclipses that immediately. Most frustrating of all is that she just doesn't have the time to accommodate that anger and expound on the mistrust she harbours towards the locals. It's not the big picture she's currently concerned with.

Instead Jess takes little pictures to test her camera film, of natives and transplants, old and new, including one of Kara and Kevin canoodling (vom) which wards her off from the rest of the festivities. The only reason she's still out is to swipe some free liquor, since you can never have too much, but the Man in the Hat's stash must still be dry from her raid of it a week ago. She can't smell any liquor in the sugary drink that's provided this time. It's too sweet for her tastes, so she returns the jar she was sniff-testing to its cradle in the sand. Despite its weakness, it does appear to be having an effect on people. A creepy one but not that high on the meter, that she can tell. She chooses to stick around a while longer and keep an eye on folks. It's her job, right?

The network distracts her every so often, and then she's scanning the gathering for the thousandth time. Who should be walking towards her but the Weather Man himself. Or is it Tyler Durden now? He went ahead with the fight club. Presumably it's still taking kids. He's got no reason to be looking as borderline comfortable as he is, around her especially. (Unless she remembers how their last conversation actually ended, cue Wipeout theme.) Jess pockets her device and shrugs her shoulders by way of greeting. She stares into the fire but glances over when she takes notice of the unmoving shadows on his face, actually bruises sunken into his skin. Hopefully the rest of him is in better shape -- not that Jess cares. But if he wants to be useful to her so bad, she might have something for him to do in the near future. It'd be nice if he could stay in one piece until then. ]

[oorah]

[ he always wants to be useful to her, which tonight is... taking on a strange meaning in his head. he tries to push the strange urges aside, but as he looks around he wonders if it isn't related to the weird shit the natives gave him. frank pulls out the jar and stares at it for a while.

jess looks at him, he can feel her eyes on him. and she's not walking away yet, which is always a good sign with them. at least until it isn't because she always eventually will get there, hilarious exits notwithstanding. after a moment, he sets the jar back in the sand, thinking he's had enough to be... pliable. but hopefully not too compromised. best to keep his distance either way.

still crouching, he looks up at her and tries not to feel any type of way. instead he signs to her, for lack of anything intelligent to ask: ] You okay?

[underachievement]

[ She hasn't bothered to pick up on the sign language yet. Thankfully, some gestures are universal and their universes must be similar enough for her to get the gist. She's pretty fucking far from okay. Anything less (more?) would be suspect so it's business as usual. The question glances off her as she gives a mild sneer, then nods at him to return the question: ] You? [ before indicating with one side of her open jacket, her fist stuffed into the pocket, to the jar he just set down. ]

[oorah]

[ he knows she isn't. she never is. but he's seldom okay himself so it's easier to accept than maybe it should be. she directs the silent question back on him and he looks down at the half-empty jar and shrugs. it seems harmless enough. he kind of wants to give her a hug right now, but that doesn't seem too far off from normal. ]

[underachievement]

[ As pleasant as this conversation is when held up against every precedent of theirs, almost certainly by virtue of the wordlessness, it's not doing anything for her. Jess pulls out her device to question him more effectively. ]

You buzzed? [ Because the last shindig's moonshine tasted like a punch in the mouth. There can't be enough sugar in France to mask it so well that she's unable to taste it in the red stuff. But it is doing something. It can't be the unwelcome Valentine's reminder that has the vibe at this party so horned up. ]

[oorah]

[ he drags out his device with a little nose wrinkle, shaking his head before he even tries to answer. ] it's not booze.

[ but it is... something. he glances over at her with a silent little sigh, wondering what she would taste like if they kissed right now. ]

[underachievement]

[ Yeah, that's for sure a distinct Look. Jess is taken aback, not so much by the sudden interest but by his expression of it, however, ahem, "subtle." She pegged him as the inwardly pining type, regardless of the amount of liquor in him. It should take a lot more of a little something something way stronger to inspire bedroom eyes in the undertaker. ]

I know.
But do you feel anything?

[oorah]

yes. [ he frowns, not sure he wants to articulate this, especially to jessica. for some reason, things always seem more... personal with her. ]

i should go [ frank takes a few steps back from her, but there's some definite pining going on in his gaze. sorry about it. ]

[underachievement]

[ Not now he shouldn't. He's not acting himself and she wants to know why. If it's that goddamn drink, she can close the case on why the locals brought Kilgrave here in the first place. Like attracts like.

Jess takes a few steps towards him, the amount necessary to communicate that they're not done here, and not one more. ]

I need to talk to you.
Can you focus?

[oorah]

[ he stops dead when she comes closer, his throat drying up. there are so many things darting through his head, but she needs to talk. that's never good with her. can he focus? slowly, as if his head were full of marbles, frank nods. he doesn't look entirely sure about it, but as long as she stays at least that far away he thinks it's fine. probably. but then he's looking around at all the people canoodling and that's a little much, isn't it. he gestures vaguely for them to progress... elsewhere, but as ever, he'll hear her out. no matter what's going on with him at the time. ]

[underachievement]

[ Usually she'd be all for getting out of sight but in light of the effect the red drank is having on people, she feels it's best to make an exception. Visible and noticeable aren't entirely the same thing, so she leads him with a nod of her head away from the fire, to an occupied bench off the side of the path. She taps one of the women on the shoulder to interrupt their staring into each others' eyes and bears down upon them with sheer rudeness until they get up and leave. Jess sits near the edge and starts typing ]

What kind of training do you have? Military? Police?

[oorah]

[ frank trails after her, keeping his hands in his pockets while he watches jess kick the couple off the bench with no shortage of bemusement. he digs out his device again when he sees her typing, not intending to get close enough to read her screen. ]

Marines.

[underachievement]

[ Isn't that the most hardcore one? It's definitely above board, as much as the American military ever is. No patriotic doping required. Jess chews that over, looking out at the silent revellers. There is an abnormal amounr of touchy-feely crap going on but it only sharpens her concentration, which can't hurt after all the so much whiskey she's been drinking. Jess licks her lips. Should've brought some. ]

Ever jumped on a grenade?

[oorah]

[ it sure as fuck IS the most hardcore one. even if nothing he did was above any type of board. they can get around to that whole story some time past the twelfth of go fuck yourself. he nods at her question and makes a little frown and half-shrug combo like it ain't no thang. ]

[underachievement]

[ All right well that's how he ended up here or that grenade sucks at its job but the sentiment of his answer is the same. Once a soldier, always a soldier. Odds are the sweet embrace of death isn't taking gentleman callers, either. Either she just has a feeling or that's how she copes with what she's going to ask of him. ]

Is there anything you wouldn't do if it would stop Kilgrave?

[oorah]

[ he shakes his head instantly, typing the verbal equivalent in lieu of the real thing: ] no

[underachievement]

[ No room for misinterpration there. It's the response she needs but getting it doesn't miraculously make her feel suddenly capable of sending him off to die. She heaves a bodily sigh before ripping off one of the handful of bandaids krazy glued on over her gaping arterial wound. ]

I can't share anything with you.
I can just tell you what to do, exactly when I need you to do it.

[oorah]

i get it. need to know. i'm your guy.

[ he nods, something like empathy slipping into his gaze even from several paces away. he'd do anything to put that sick fuck in the ground. and maybe he'd just do anything she told him regardless. ]

[underachievement]

[ That's an understatement. Considering his tacit volunteering to become an accomplice in her initial homicide, he must be ecstatic to make it official. He's so intent on being in the way that she can't in good, practical conscience keep declining to use him. Rationalizing it like that lets her move forward, do what she has to do. The earnestness of his expression thuds right off the wall of detachment she's been assembling instead of getting sleep. ]

If I send you an address, get there as soon as you can.

[oorah]

[ he nods quick like taking an order, because that's what he's doing. jess isn't like agent orange or any of the officers he'd answered to before. she's a victim and this is how he helps her, by digging deep and ignoring all of his own bullshit. ] yes, ma'am.

[underachievement]

[ victim, survivor, hero. she's not any of them. she's just doing what no one else can or will or should have to. even though he's not putting her on, she's tempted to sarcastically tell him "at ease" but that's the state she couldn't need him farthest from. the only ease he should be indulging in is the level-headed adaptiveness of a professional killer. ]

Talk to you soon. [ Jess gets up, always busy ]

[oorah]

[ frank keeps his feet planted in the sand, vitally aware that he's still compromised by this weird juice shit. he gives a slow nod, locking eyes with her before she turns around and leaves. ]