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

[nishizono]

[ follow me, tetora gestures, and off he goes into the winding roads of tokyo's back alleys. skyscrapers tower high overhead, casting giant shadows across the mid-afternoon sky that covers them. the sun is exactly like tetora last remembers it - hot, bright, summery like a kiss to the back of the neck. they cross small intersections with half-working traffic lights, zig-zag through marketplaces until they reach a small izakaya that sells ramen along with rice burgers, the menu proudly announcing ENGLISH CUSTOMERS WELCOME above a picture of the flag of the united states of america.

it's the little details.

an unmemorable man serves them tea, piping hot and straight from the kettle, but tetora gives his cup to david as he asks - politely - for a can of soda. ]

I love it here. They make really good ramen. Every time I do this - I come back here. You got a place like that, back home?

[gaits]

[ tetora gestures for him to follow and david does, immediately and without any reservations. the winding back alleys and towering skyscrapers remind him of new york, and he stares around more than any average person would not just because this is an entirely different country (matrix reenactment or not), but because it's been so long since he's actually been outside during the day. he's been holed up in his dingy warehouse for a better part of a year, hardly ever going outside except at night, and even then his trips were limited. there's a sense of freedom here, even if in the confines of their shared minds -- it's the most relaxed he's felt in months.

the izakaya pulls a smile to his face, bowing his head a little in thanks for the tea. he curls his hands around the mug, breathes in matcha and something like barley; it's no chamomile, but it does the trick. ]

No wonder you're so polite. [ he takes a sip, scrunches his nose a little at the heat. ] Sort of. We don't have much ramen, but there's a hole in the wall sandwich shop down the road.

[ the izakaya ripples around them, a part of it fading away to be replaced by the interior of a tiny, bustling diner. a large blackboard hangs above the register, covered in sandwich names and specials scrawled over it in brightly colored chalk. the quiet of the izakaya is replaced by louder conversation, the sharp sound of a bell occasionally cutting through new york accented english. ]

They've got a line out the door every day, but it's worth the wait.