ca$h hotdog🌭 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oorah) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
quietplacelogs2018-02-28 09:54 am
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. ]
no subject
Hhe looks like he's had his second rabies jab
[Hawk figures now is as good a time as any to question which vaccine was so brand-spankin-new it needed testing on this particular human guinea pig.
He makes sure the space is clear and then reclines against the counter. It's just too much work to stand upright. With how primally exhausted the other two men in front of him look, Hawkeye reckons they'll at least understand.]
are we really really sure the pup is safe I think that tail is beginning to create some lift. And I think our boy might need a leash
no subject
the clinic is soundproofed ok relax
he doesn't need a leash
he's a good boy
[ frank signs Good boy at the dog so he might start learning it. ]
no subject
Pretty sure the guy this vaccine was created for is like a walking case of rabies anyway.
[ david is always exhausted all the time, every day of the week. running after frank is a full time job he never wanted, who knew. ]
I can vouch for the dog
He was good during the procedure anyway, right?
no subject
if this place is soundproofed why isn't anybody talking?
why am I suddenly anxious about cooties?
you guys really know how to make a guy feel out of the loop but you know what, answer the above at your leisure I'm in no rush
I still think hotdog would look dashing in leather. classic,
sturdy, thinks its macho but petite ladies have a field day with it anyway
no subject
[ that's what the kitchen irish guy called him before frank cut him from corner to corner :) ]
it's a long story. but it'll turn real short for the cootiemonster himself if this vaccine fucking works.
i do look great in leather though