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

[gaits]

[ david watches the woman's hands, the way her fingers form what she wants to convey and the screen of his device, translating them into words. having the device in his hands puts him at ease, but knowing the native sign language would definitely be more helpful as well. he's so focused on her that he doesn't register frank approaching him until he's gripped by the shoulder, jumping as he's turned around and ready to push whoever it is away until he registers who it is.

his heart stops for second, blinking rapidly like he's dreaming because he didn't think he'd see anyone he knew here. but frank is here, right in front of him, and david swallows thickly past the lump in his throat, reaching up to grasp frank's shoulders to pull him into a hug. ]

[oorah]

[ his heart stutters, picking up speed when the man pulls him in. everything about him feels like home even if he smells like copper and sweat. in the end, that's familiar too and it only takes a moment before frank can get a heavy arm around his back, holding him against his sturdy frame and squeezing his eyes shut. he can't cry, not here. but micro is here, with him. as much as he didn't want this -- as much as he hates it -- he can't deny that he needed him. was half a person in his absence; or perhaps even less. frank castle is only fragments of an approximation of human life on his own in any case, let alone in a place like this. a place without proper communication or objectives. one tear stubbornly tracks down, caught against micro's cheek as he holds onto him for dear life. ]

Fuck you. [ he murmurs it into david's ear, heartfelt. the man always had to follow him into the most dangerous situations, even if it wasn't his intention this time. even if neither of them have any control over this. he grips a little tighter as a result, his fist bunching in the robin's egg blue fabric. an obnoxious color that brings out david's eyes and makes him stand out even more against the backdrop of frank's silent existence here. his bright yellow-orange contrasts brightly with it, as ever, they are yin and yang. ]

[gaits]

[ he smells it, the copper and sweat and tears, and david is unabashedly tearing up just as much, clinging to frank like it's been months since he last saw him. he's clutching him hard enough for david to feel his pulse, the squeeze of his arms around his back and it should hurt, really -- david has always been skin and bones, spindly to frank's sturdier build, yet they fit together like two pieces of some mismatched puzzle. people could be staring at them right now, two idiots hugging it out in the middle of the room, but david could give less of a care right in this moment.

he knows they're far, far away from home. he knows that going back will be difficult, that it would require more planning than he's ever done, but the solidity of frank grounds him. they'll make it out somehow, just like they've always done.

he feels the murmur before he even hears it, rumbled out from frank's chest just like old times. he laughs despite the insult, silent against frank's shoulder as his body shakes from amusement or relief, or some amalgamation of both. his jumpsuit is wound tighter around him and he can feel the knuckles of frank's fist nudging against the bumps of his spine; he never did get to have that thanksgiving dinner before he woke up here. ]

Hi, Frank. [ he whispers back, grasping frank's shoulder tighter and squeezing a little before he lets go, but doesn't pull away. they've never said it out loud, but it's no secret that they've depended on each other for more than just getting through frank's solitary mission back home, and though he knows that frank would've rather him not show up at all, david is glad that he's here. ] Miss you too, Frank.

[ it's easy to slip back into being a shit, because it's familiar. it's the only way to deal with something they've yet to solve. ]

[oorah]

[ his fingers dig deeper, as if he could pull himself through the other man, as if they aren't already as close as they can get; pressed against one another like they're each afraid the other will disappear the second they let go. and it isn't so far from the truth. ] Yeah, yeah you bastard. I missed you. Like a hole in my head. [ except frank knows what that feels like, and this is precisely the opposite. this is something slotting in, david filling a person-shaped void in his heart that nothing else could in this hopeless hellscape.

slowly, measure-by-terrible-measure, frank is attempting to force himself back. he doesn't want to let go, but they're actually causing a scene now. not that he's ever much given a fuck about that. he knows the natives will hurry them along any second though, and he would rather get to the part where he can catch micro up on everything and make sure he's safe. david lieberman has to be his first priority now.

when they're far enough away, the glisten in his eyes is undeniable, tear tracks adding a strange sheen to his mottled face. his hand comes up, cupping the back of david's skull and pressing their faces together briefly. this is it, once they leave this room it's back to business as usual. or at least, what it's been for frank these past four weeks. there is something else, perhaps slightly less serious, to address first. one corner of his lips twitches tellingly as he puts enough space between them now to see the whole of david's face. ] Call me Hotdog in front of them. [ the people here. he's worked hard to make sure no one knew he was the punisher, that they all thought he was some nerdy jokester. maybe the two were one in the same, but most of the people here would only ever get half of the story. ]

[gaits]

[ david sniffs in response and chokes out a laugh, rubbing his fist over his eyes to stem the tears even though he knows frank has seen them already. there was a time when he would have felt a little embarrassed by this but he can't bring himself to care anymore even as frank brings their foreheads together, breaths mingling in the small space between them. it shouldn't feel so familiar, like a part of him has returned, like he's whole again. it shouldn't, but it does and david thinks if they're going to be stuck here for an indeterminate amount of time, he might as well accept it. ]

Hotdog? [ he sees that tell and it coaxes another laugh, less wet now that he's had a few moments to bring himself back. he shakes his head and doesn't bother to hide the fondness in his tone. ] You're such a dick.

[ says the guy who calls himself micro, but whatever. david finally takes the first half-step back, just enough to stall the natives that try to usher them along, his hand still grasping frank's shoulder. he looks at frank for direction, being that he's been here longer and keeps his device out, knowing that they won't be able to talk like this outside. ]

[oorah]

[ without trying to wrest himself from micro's grip, he leads with the same shoulder in the man's hand, snorting under his breath at someone finally getting his dumb joke. he is a dick, that's not in question, but he has his brother back. it's obvious that frank knows this place like the back of his hand already, navigating his way easily through the gathering mass of people, new and old. a few spare a glance at them or even wave, but frank keeps his head down and his eyes trained forward on the sandpath before them.

though usually, it's a struggle for anyone to get frank to produce his device; he does so now without even being asked. he's waiting for the screen to light up the second they leave the reset room, blowing red dust out of his nose. ]

[gaits]

[ for once in his life, david doesn't blow up frank's phone just yet.

he takes a moment to look, really look at the town. it's something straight out of some horror movie or video game, eerily quiet and dreary, and if frank has already taken to this place so well, he wonders how long it'll take him to do the same. probably not very long if he thinks about it. they've been living half lives since they first met and even long before that; in the end it doesn't even really matter. they're here now and they'll just have to make the most of it.

eventually, he does turn to his device. ]

How long has it been since you got here?

[oorah]

[ he follows david's eyes as he scans their surroundings, taking it in the same way frank had the first day. the second day had brought chaos. townhall and then jess killing kilgrave and all the bullshit that came after. the screen lights up while his eyes are elsewhere, so it takes him a few seconds to notice, shooting micro a look of solidarity in between. ] four weeks. almost exactly. 28 days.

[gaits]

Just shy of a month.

[ he still can't wrap his mind around it; he remembers frank pulling up in front of his house, remembers inviting frank in and then getting out. he remembers walking all the way up to the front door and knocking, and then --

... and then, what? ]

What's the last thing you remember?

[oorah]

[ he swallows, the last thing he wants to think about is group therapy here. but he knows he can't lie to micro -- or more accurately he won't. he refuses to put space between them in a world already intending to have them at odds. ]

i was at the va