ca$h hotdog🌭 (
oorah) wrote in
quietplacelogs2018-02-28 09:54 am
III. (open-ish) i said i've been through a lot of noise
featuring: hotdog & his (close) cr
what's happening? frank is suffering from vaccine side-effects and has been ordered to go to the clinic to take care of it; meanttime max has arrived! and just undergone debarking surgery.
day: march 1 (night) & march 2 all day
content warnings: sick man, sick dog, the whine (not)heard round the world.
notes: if it's feasible that frank or micro would have told your character where he is, then feel free to show up. or if you are sick maybe you are unlucky enough to encounter this jerkbutt. hit me up if you want something specific!
march 1
[ after frank gifted jessica a lovely murder basket, she suspects he isn't feeling himself (joke's on her tbh.) since only just injecting him with the experimental drug that would (with any luck at all) make him immune to kilgrave's powers, she assumes frank's weird behavior is a side effect and sends him to the clinic to get checked out. after akira puts him on bedrest, he's open to visitors, and of course the first person he wants to see isn't a person at all. he texts hawkeye and micro furiously: ] bring me my fucking dog, you assholes.
[ okay, so he might be a little testy. once a sleepy max just out of surgery is brought to the clinic, too, the dog will lay at the foot of his bed, alternating between lazily guarding and even lazier dozing. frank hates being stationary. he hates feeling useless. the aches and pains are taking a toll on him, but not as much as the rising tide of frustration and irritability. even if he's usually not a chill guy by a landslide, today he's especially twitchy. he'll likely be up long into the night fantasizing different and creative ways to make kilgrave hurt. oh, hi kids. didn't see you there. ]
march 2
[ frank hasn't slept much. between the fever and refusing to take anything stronger than aspirin, he's sweating and out of it, an angry red rash climbing steadily up the back of his neck to peek out of his black jumpsuit collar. the blankets are on his feet, but he keeps kicking them off. he hates being sick, and he knows he's a terrible patient besides. maria always used to scold him for acting like a child; or worse than their actual children since they took being sick like a champ, just happy for the day away from school. he could endure torture and pain aplenty, max the dog had witnessed both first-hand. he lived in bunkers buried in the sand and traveled to countries that were just holes in the ground, but a little fever and nausea and he's ready to die. every time a cold shiver wracks his spine, he wishes for it even; picturing the bullet in his skull. the doctors telling him a shift in millimeter increment would have killed him. should have, even the way it is.
max is on the floor now, his big block head peeking out from underneath the cot. he watches the door, alerting frank to any new arrival with a tiny growl before shutting his eyes again. the noise little more than a rattly rumble from the dog's barrel chest. the message is clear: you take this one, dad. i'll get the next. ]
what's happening? frank is suffering from vaccine side-effects and has been ordered to go to the clinic to take care of it; meanttime max has arrived! and just undergone debarking surgery.
day: march 1 (night) & march 2 all day
content warnings: sick man, sick dog, the whine (not)heard round the world.
notes: if it's feasible that frank or micro would have told your character where he is, then feel free to show up. or if you are sick maybe you are unlucky enough to encounter this jerkbutt. hit me up if you want something specific!
march 1
[ after frank gifted jessica a lovely murder basket, she suspects he isn't feeling himself (joke's on her tbh.) since only just injecting him with the experimental drug that would (with any luck at all) make him immune to kilgrave's powers, she assumes frank's weird behavior is a side effect and sends him to the clinic to get checked out. after akira puts him on bedrest, he's open to visitors, and of course the first person he wants to see isn't a person at all. he texts hawkeye and micro furiously: ] bring me my fucking dog, you assholes.
[ okay, so he might be a little testy. once a sleepy max just out of surgery is brought to the clinic, too, the dog will lay at the foot of his bed, alternating between lazily guarding and even lazier dozing. frank hates being stationary. he hates feeling useless. the aches and pains are taking a toll on him, but not as much as the rising tide of frustration and irritability. even if he's usually not a chill guy by a landslide, today he's especially twitchy. he'll likely be up long into the night fantasizing different and creative ways to make kilgrave hurt. oh, hi kids. didn't see you there. ]
march 2
[ frank hasn't slept much. between the fever and refusing to take anything stronger than aspirin, he's sweating and out of it, an angry red rash climbing steadily up the back of his neck to peek out of his black jumpsuit collar. the blankets are on his feet, but he keeps kicking them off. he hates being sick, and he knows he's a terrible patient besides. maria always used to scold him for acting like a child; or worse than their actual children since they took being sick like a champ, just happy for the day away from school. he could endure torture and pain aplenty, max the dog had witnessed both first-hand. he lived in bunkers buried in the sand and traveled to countries that were just holes in the ground, but a little fever and nausea and he's ready to die. every time a cold shiver wracks his spine, he wishes for it even; picturing the bullet in his skull. the doctors telling him a shift in millimeter increment would have killed him. should have, even the way it is.
max is on the floor now, his big block head peeking out from underneath the cot. he watches the door, alerting frank to any new arrival with a tiny growl before shutting his eyes again. the noise little more than a rattly rumble from the dog's barrel chest. the message is clear: you take this one, dad. i'll get the next. ]

march 2
and lo and behold, what he sees makes that bit of nausea rise up and churn into something pale and sour at the back of his mouth. it takes a handful of swift but silent steps for tetora to be at hotdog's bedside, hand hovering over his face. the man has a pallor to him - sweat-sheened, lips chalky, veins bright red against his eyelids. it's not a pretty picture; hell, it's not a flattering picture at all. what remains of hotdog's bruises stand out even more starkly now than they did before.
tetora's face folds into a crumpled mess. he gives the dog at the foot of the bed a quick hug and a shake, before flitting to hotdog's bedside, lingering over him. who did this to you, he wants to demand, but understands he shouldn't. who needs a knife to the heart?
in the end, tetora settles for a quick tapping on the man's cloth-covered arm. he repeats the tapping in morse, until he gets a reply: ]
r u ok
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smiling softly as max takes to tetora, smiling and panting happily, he waits his turn patiently. the morse code gets a nod even as the smile slips from his face. even with his penchant for the dramatic, frank knows he'll be fine. and if this makes him immune to that purple-suit-wearing son-of-a-donkey's-asshole then this will all be worth it. gently, he turns his hand to grip tetora's wrist. ]
I'm okay. I promise. [ he focuses on just passing the words over, trying not to let anything else bleed into the link between them. ]
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this tag went places i didn't want it to, i'm sorry
somehow i don't believe you, like, at all
that's fair, i won't lie
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shorties heh
stOP IT
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March 2nd
Also he appears way more relaxed being in a familiar flightsuit with boots. Poe would mostly wear it for duties that required something a bit more durable than the regular jumpsuit. The navy one would be worn when he was at home or making trips that didn't require work. Poe finds the room that Frank is in and stops coming in at first upon hearing the dog. He slowly makes his way over to the bedside but crouches down to get on Max's level. Poe isn't afraid as he reaches a hand out, palm facing upwards for the dog to sniff.
He'll wave with his free hand at Frank for now. And signs a quick 'hello'. ]
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Hey. [ he signs, sitting up now with a slightly listless smile. he'll wait for poe to move on from the dog to say anything else. he knows he hadn't left things in the best place between them, but it means something that poe is here. ]
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march 1
When Mike arrives at the clinic, he definitely doesn't expect to a see a dog there at the foot of Frank's bed. A dog could easily distract any child but Mike is more focused on Frank as he comes into the room, sits the basket on the floor and climbs up onto the bed to hug him. ]
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march 2
There's a growl as she approaches, but she takes it slow, trying to show she means neither of them any harm. ]
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frank isn't upset at being ignored -- quite the contrast. he would do the same so he just watches quietly, glad she's here. and glad for the millionth time that rey is safe. ]
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march 1st
Realistically no child does -- sterile, quiet, strict places where you're most likely gonna end up with needles sticking into every bit of you and/or some kinda nasty gross medicine you have to take -- but Will's been to far too many in the last year or so. There's a distinct smell, of disinfectant and clean sheets, that has him shivering all over the second he steps through the door. He doesn't want to be here. He so painfully, desperately doesn't want to be here. He can't stop remembering the last lucid moments in the lab clinic, the oxygen mask, the wires and tubes snaking in and out of his body, the chafe of stiff hospital gown fabric, the sensation of looking at people he knows, people he loves -- Mike, Bob, his mom, Hopper -- and seeing nothing but meat to devour and destroy.
But he stays. He's not in the bed this time, he's sitting cross-legged in a chair beside it, one foot jiggling up and down in a nervous, frenetic way. He's got his new(ish) sketch pad from Eddie open across his lap and there are colored pencils sticking out of every one of the jumpsuit's pockets, and he's drawing quietly to try and distract himself from how scared and sick being here makes him.
Because Frank is here. So Will isn't leaving.]
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march 2
he's already met max earlier but he gets on one knee to greet him anyway, hands coming up to gently cup his face and smooth fingers down his neck and back. hey, buddy, he whispers. ]
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the dog recognizes david instantly as one of the men who helped him when he got here and he puts a paw up on his knee while accepting the pats with a wide smile. frank signs to the dog absentmindedly, speaking the word softly at the same time so he might understand. ] Off. [ max immediately listens, putting all four feet back on the floor and sitting pretty. frank nods his approval, signing Good boy before his tired gaze slides over to david at last. ]
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march 1st pm/march 2nd am, im gonna make this extra dumb.
She doesn't intend to visit but she has nothing better to do when she isn't sleeping. Between midnight and morning, everyone should be in bed except patrol and the community guards, so she runs no risk of crossing paths with any of his friends. Once at the clinic, she steps inside far enough to confirm he's there. She can't ascertain his condition from afar and the growl (which she mistakes for his because dog what dog) warns her into leaving before she gets any closer. There are sentimental items all around him -- if he was in the process of dying, concern would have made it to the network. So if the sickness going through him is something he can sweat out, they still stand a chance. If not, he'll reset, they'll start from scratch, and he probably won't blame her for it.
On her way home, she shoves her hands in her pockets and remembers about the rabbits' feet she was going to give back to him. Crap. Oh well. Time to get really really drunk and see where they end up instead. The superstition is squandered on her. ]
3 way dog delivery, march 1
You think it's alright to move him now?
[ he's no animal expert but he'll defer to hawkeye here; he's just a pair of extra hands anyway. ]
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He keeps his distance from the table, from the groggy dog and shaggy man, but he blows air into the pocket of one cheek as he thinks this over.]
If it isn't I guess we'll learn our lesson
you take the pointy end
[To lift the animal and set him on the floor. And then... it should be able to walk, the anaesthesia wearing off. Might be slow going, but it's preferable to Hotdog's wrath. ]
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march 2
A part of Eddie felt guilty that he had been so flighty with the bigger man, though he suspects Frank doesn't quite take it that way. Or if he did, he wasn't insulted by it.
Finding Frank's room is a piece of cake. Eddie isn't surprised to see the man laying in bed with a rash crawling up out of his collar. What he is surprised by, however, is the presence of a dog that is not Teddy. Eddie comes to an immediate halt and his eyes zone in on said dog. A baby boy. A good boy, Eddie thinks, and he instantly signs at Frank:
Who's this puppy?
Yes. Eddie learned the word for 'puppy'. It was essential, okay.)
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My friend M-A-X, [ frank signs back, after some effort he manages to sit up against his headboard to receive his company better. ]
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march 2nd
The growling at the door makes her hesitant once she does make it. Kamala pushes her luck by continuing to walk, offering Frank a cheerful wave until she sees how truly miserable he is. She makes a beeline over to his bed, completely forgetting the dog, and offers a giant stuffed sloth like he's a little kid with a cold. It'll make him feel better, she promises.]
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march 2
It's late at night when she finally comes. Maybe midnight? She's scoped out the entire hospital before she gets outside his room, every inch to be sure. She's heard Kilgrave's on lock down, but she can't quite bring herself to believe it. She doesn't go inside the room Frank's in, not sure what she's going to say. Faith knows she should see him though. Right?
Maybe she'll just going to peak around the edge of the doorway to have a look. See if he's okay, then she's gonna take off. But the dog blows her cover and she's caught red handed, her eyes wide with panic. Fuck.]
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frank picks his head up off the pillow, a tiny teddy chilling on the pillow with his massive boulder of a cranium. it's just that heavy to move, too as his eyes loll up to see who it is. faith, oh. that's nice. he smiles softly. hi, faith. ]
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March 2nd
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march 2
how are you feeling?
[ her movements as she bustles around him are efficient and businesslike. this is something she knows. ]
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like reheated garbage [ am i gonna make it doc??? ]
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march 2
Apparently Frank is sick. Instantly he thinks of Dorothy since she's the best healer he knows - she saved his life more than once - but apparently he's in a "clinic" being taken care of. Lucas is a little worried, having been to fight club enough times to notice his impact and influence on others, particularly the children in the community. He feels he ought to visit to check how he's doing.
He stops in the doorway when Max makes a noise at him - he knows better than to piss off a dog - but when it's clear the dog doesn't have any fight in him (not today) Lucas comes to stand by Frank's bedside. While he thought his mind would be put at ease seeing him, Lucas just looks more concerned by his appearance. ]
what's happening to you? [ This clearly isn't a minor sickness. It's as though he's battling something. ]
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he's propped up somewhat by pillows and he doesn't bother sitting up properly, grabbing his phone and holding it over his head to squint at the text. it takes him a while to respond, almost dropping the device on his face a few times before success. ] nothings happening i'm just sick. i'll be better soon.
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