FoolsErin
thatguyinthestore
Frank Castle
The fetish joke drew a glower, but nothing more. She kept reaching for the back of her head, where Frank had hit her. Had the old vigilante hit her harder than he thought? Again, she was still a child, no matter how tough she acted. Still didn't seem right. Frank was keenly aware of his own strength. He'd given her a good clout, but nothing that would leave a mark or even really sting. It had been more to knock some sense into her from the surprise of it. No, there was more to that. Ellie was barely keeping it together. Her hand was shaking, and tears were forming in her eyes. As she glanced off to the side, his eyes darted to the back of her head. A surgery scar. Frank hung his head for a second, closing his eyes. At his waist, his fist tightened so much his palm bled. The old vigilante made sure he was looking up before Ellie turned back to him, but blood still dripped from his hand onto the floor.
Things didn't get much better when she started talking. Something had really fucked this kid up in the head. Was she just blocking the memories out? She knew enough for it to bring her grief. She knew Joel was dead, and that she had done something awful, or had something awful done to her... or both. Did Ellie deserve to know the truth? Would it bring her some bizarre peace if Frank told her about what she had done, and what happened to her? Or, would it push her deeper into despair? Did it matter to him, either way? She was just some kid, right? Just some kid that did something stupid because a sick fuck manipulated her, forced her to do it. Just some kid trying not to cry, standing a couple feet in front of him. Just some kid. A child. Afraid. Alone. In pain. The briefest flash of a memory. A runaway kite caught in a tree. Chasing after it with the kids. An old man tied to a tree with a gun to his head. The men around the old timer turning. Muzzle flashes. Lisa, making a face a little girl should never make. His fist clenched even harder, drawing yet more blood. Standing in front of him, for the briefest second, was Lisa... Meat spilling out of her.
He didn't let his expression waver, staying steady even as his hand hurt. She needed him to seem like a rock. He needed to be a rock. Something completely immmovable to grab onto while she was adrift at sea. That meant seeming distant, at least to him. In control. Every fiber of his being screamed out against it, though. Her father figure was dead, and it was at least in some small way her fault. A way that had been out of her control, but that didn't make it any less true. In front of him wasn't just a rough and tumble survivor. No. She was every bit as much a scared little girl. She was starting to question whether there was even any point to this. Not good. How to handle that? He--
The conversation was cut short. People were freaking out about something. As Frank stood, he tore off a piece of his sleeve, wrapping it around his bloody palm, turning away from her. His eyes narrowed as the Kronan revealed that they would have to fight in some sort of gladiatorial contest. That wasn't good. Unless the arena provided weapons, all he had was a knife, and he needed to keep these kids safe, above all else. If this was a fight to the death, though, there wasn't much the old man was sure he could do. Even aside from being unarmed, none of these people, at a glance, deserved to die, except maybe Samus. Not even her yet. Of course, that would change if they killed anyone, tried to kill him, or tried to hurt the kids, but Frank couldn't assume that and just hurt them ahead of time. That wasn't how Frank did things, even back when he was out hunting crooks every night. At this rate, maybe that's where he belonged. He'd tried the straight and narrow. Didn't exactly work out for him. Here he was, already falling back into old habits. "Kicking and screaming," Frank muttered back with rattling breath, swallowing a glob of blood. Spat too much out. Didn't want to worry the kids now, of all times. He nodded to Ellie as she went to retrieve Atreus.
Frank looked down at the boy as he was brought to him. Looking between the two, he shook his head before returning to sizing up the room. They didn't stand a chance in Hell against some of these freaks. His eyes burrowed into each of them, one at a time. "Whatever happens, when we're out there, I need you to actually listen to me. No bullshit. Don't care if you trust me. Don't care if you like me. I'll drag your asses to the ground if I have to. Could mean the difference between walking away or catching a slug to the brain." In particular, as he finished, Frank looked at Ellie, though the look was slightly less harsh than usual. "If it comes down to walking away alive or sticking with me, you don't hesitate. You fucking run. Got it?" The intensity was back in an instant, baring his teeth at both of them as he spoke.
Ellya @The cell
FoolsErin
BarrenThin2
,
FactionGuerrilla
,
FoolsErin
,
QizPizza
thatguyinthestore
Jett turned to Korg saying that he suggest to start a revolution against the fat man, she smirked and said to him "You're actually right, Korg. But, I'm actually a freedom leader myself so I am gonna have some messages to that fat dude right after I am done with this Gladiator tournament." She sat down again near Korg trying to think about a revolution name in order to have an certain yet personal message towards the fat man saying to Korg a question about what is like having a target for the revolution"Okay so first question, Korg. How to have my target which is the fat dude get scared when I made a scary yet personal message towards him, how did you do it in the past when you lead your small revolution??"thatguyinthestore said:
FoolsErin
,
thatguyinthestore
FoolsErin said:Tony said nothing in response to being pinned up against the wall with a gun to his head, his eyes continuing to dart across the room for any sign of escape. Even if he could get the gun off of him, there was no point now. The jig was up. The cards against him. The tables turned in all the wrong directions. ”Tony” heaved a nervous sigh, a fearful smile with a clear and failed attempt to be mischievous crossing his face as he shapeshifted into an appearance more resembling Blake, then Kassandra, then Rex, then Lucky. They quickly shifted between a few more forms, including Megumin, Atreus, Aloy, Frank, Thorne, Lazarus, and Weiss. In the shape of Weiss, they looked Jason dead in the eye, trying to broaden their smile but only looking more nervous in the process. “S-So, you really want to know who I am, hmm?” The figure nervously stammered in Weiss’s voice, before shifting into their true and final form.
“T-The name’s Double Trouble. N-Now, I would really prefer it if you didn't kill me, Mr. Redhead.” They squeaked, their normally confident voice cracked with nerves and stuttering with the threat of imminent death.
Meanwhile when the male known as Tony said that he is actually not him after Thorne turned around to hear the conversation and has her jaw dropped when she saw an shape-shifting person whose name is Double Trouble said that she doesn't want Jason to kill her right before she tell the shape shifting girl "Well, and I think you're actually friendly too. So I'm cool with you, Double Trouble. And is the red masked man say, why are you actually doing here in this pure white box like jail??"thatguyinthestore said:
AlexandraRoseLeclerc
thatguyinthestore
(Jason),
P
PopcornPie
(Samus)
FoolsErin
Ellya
(Silent Interaction)
QizPizza
thatguyinthestore
(Mention)
TheElenaFisher
thatguyinthestore
(Korg, Jason) ,
AlexandraRoseLeclerc
(Jett)
thatguyinthestore
(Leo) ,
Ciscodog
(Killua) ,
quadraxis201
(Akari) ,
Lazaro1505
(Benrey)
TheElenaFisher
FoolsErin
FactionGuerrilla
Ellya
thatguyinthestore
thatguyinthestore
Geralt of Rivia
Bayonetta certainly wasn't an unwelcome addition to the conversation. He looked up at the much taller woman. As before, when she got close, his medallion started humming. Black hair. Similar accent. Similar sense of humor. Man, this woman reminded him of Yennefer. Actually made the Witcher more homesick, than anything. He very much wished Yen was here with them. Hopefully, they could resolve this before she became aware that he had also disappeared. Between Ciri disappearing and Geralt vanishing on her trail, she was bound to get even more worried. Maybe. Yen was smart, and unpredictable. If there was even a glimmer of hope that she might be able to figure out what was going on, he would hold on to it.
As both of them gave their assessments of possible threats, he examined each person pointed out in turn. There wasn't much to pick out from Micah, but the other man was clearly non-human. There was no way to tell what he might be packing, especially since the main basis for fear about him was that he was bragging about his powers. Granted, that was concerning; who in their right minds hears that they are going to be forced to fight their friends and comrades, and gets pumped up about it? Sure, there was such a thing as a friendly sparring match, but generally those were entered consensually, without the threat of jail time or worse hanging over your head. Especially since it didn't seem like they would have any say in who they were fighting alongside or against. For all any of them knew, they could get stuck fighting a kid, and just lying down to take it might not be an option.
"Big guy with the skull seems pretty intense. Can't tell if he would kill anyone, but he certainly doesn't seem to be here to make any friends." Geralt briefly nodded in Frank's direction. "He's old and unarmed, though, and seems pretty focused on taking care of those kids. The woman in the armor seems a bit worrying as well, given how trigger happy she was just a few minutes ago." His gaze shifted to Samus. "I don't know anyone else here well enough to say. Don't know what anyone here is capable of to know if we even have a shot in hell of winning." Geralt hated going into a fight unprepared. It went against everything he had ever learned as a Witcher, either from Vesemir or in the field. "When we get out there, I'm planning to stand back and fight defensively to try and get a feel for who I'm up against. I'll do my best to throw the fight if they let me, if we're up against each other."
___
Frank Castle
Frank watched as Ellie immediately stepped into a guiding role for Atreus. It would be impressive, if her having been in circumstances that would give her such skills wasn't so upsetting. At the mention of Murder, he didn't respond, but he did chime in when she started to give Atreus advice on how to take the both of them down if they were not only forced to fight in the arena, but forced to fight each other. The advice she was giving was good, but there was something both of them needed to account for: His vest. Now, he had no intention of harming either of them willfully, but refusal to participate could well have more dire consequences that getting it over with. Not knowing about the ceramic plated armor he wore could get them in serious trouble. Frank pulled his trench coat apart again, revealing the spray painted skull across the armor once more.
"Vest won't conduct electricity, and will stop an arrow from a low draw weight bow like that dead in its tracks. If you're going nonlethal, aim for my legs or arms. It might take a few, but the electricity might bring me to ground before I close the distance, if you can hit me." Frank knew he could dodge an arrow. He didn't intend to. "If the Kronan is wrong, face and neck. Do not hesitate, Go for the eye, if you can." Suicide by kid wasn't ideal. May not have a choice. He looked at Ellie next. "I don't know how good you are with that knife. Go for my right knee, or, if you can find a gap in the plates, right here." He tapped himself in the side. "Shotgun blast took out a rib years ago." It wasn't broken. It was gone. "Should get a good jab at a lung. Won't kill me right away, but will probably put me down for the count if you get in there a few times. Long enough to win, and long enough for me to get medical help. Otherwise, same as Atreus. Head and neck." Was Frank confident he could take these actual children in a fight? Of course. Was he really going to sell them beating him handily, if it came to it? Yes.
Ellie proceeded to give the boy some just general advice on how to fight with them. How to draw a bow. Look for high ground, draw to your chest. All good things. Finally, she started to say something Atreus needed to here, but did make Geralt look away. That he needed to dehumanize his targets. View them as less than people. Atreus finished the sentence before she could. His head snapped back to the boy in an instant. Frank certainly didn't have the kid pegged for a killer, but it would actually explain how jumpy the boy was, in part. Wasn't just a scared kid, he was a scared kid that had done something terrible too, wasn't he? Even if it was just defending himself, or someone he cared about. He reached down and put a hand on the kid's shoulder. His palm was calloused and rough. "Hey, kid... It's gonna be alright. I promise." Frank's tone was notably gentler.
When Atreus asked about Drax, and Ellie looked to him for guidance, he turned to look at the alien. Drax certainly seemed to have his heart in the right place, and, as much as he distrusted super freaks, the guardians had done a lot of good (even if they had killed Thanos, only to bring him back later). "Alright, kid. If you want, you can try to convince Drax to help. He's certainly stronger than any of us," Castle muttered begrudgingly. They could use all the help they could get. Of course, there was no guarantee any of them would end up on the same side. "Go try your best." If Drax really was a parent that lost his kid, maybe a child in need would win him over. Whether or not Atreus walked away to try, he turned to Ellie. "Show me how you hold your knife." From his waist, Frank drew his own ka-bar, the seven inch black blade the only weapon he had left. For now, its serrated edge just rested in his hand at his side.
thatguyinthestore
)
Ellya
Frank Castle
It was probably for the best that Frank kept his intention to throw the fight if they came up against each other a secret. Not only would it potentially wound their pride (especially Ellie's), it might affect how convincingly they came at him. Spectator sport might have a crowd, and that crowd could well decide who moves on and who doesn't. When she refused his knife, his scowl deepened, and he reached over to her. Not aggressively. The old vigilante was being, as he was with Atreus, surprisingly gentle compared to before. Things were different now. He wasn't suddenly going to become dad of the year or anything, but she needed to accept his help or she could wind up dead. Frank moved to open her hand and place the knife's handle in her palm, insistently. "I'll die here if I want, kid," He repeated his sentiment from earlier, albeit slightly more softly. His expression didn't change, but his tone carried a barely detectable hint of compassion. "You've got your whole life ahead of you."
Still, she wouldn't take it. He scowled down at her disapprovingly. "Ellie," Frank said simply. He wasn't sure whether or not he had said her name aloud yet. He did his best to sound stern, but not angry. In the end, his voice didn't change all that much. "We may not end up on the same team. You may be up against me. I may not have a choice but to come at you, whether or not the goal is to K.O. or kill you." Frank flipped the knife around to hold it by the blade, presenting to her still even as, for the first time since getting here, he sat down on the floor. Leaning back, he rested his head against the wall. His chest still hurt. His arm was still bleeding. He still had bits of human ear caught in his teeth. "If we end up on the same team, I'll take it back. If we don't, you'll have it and I won't. I don't know if you could bring me down, even non-lethally, without it. Besides, maybe they'll give us weapons and it won't be necessary. Otherwise, you need it more than me." Wasn't a dig. He had more than a foot and more than a hundred pounds on her.
From where he was sitting, finally catching a moment to breathe, Frank closed his eyes. Between getting yanked here mid suicide attempt, falling through a void of colors and sound, getting his arm cut by a teenager, and getting beaten and tased unconscious by time police, he was very, very tired already. His eyes opened slowly to make ee contact with her once more. The old vigilante needed to convince the girl that he could take care of himself. That, somehow, he wasn't out of his depth here (which wasn't true). Any number of lies could probably get the job done, but looking Ellie in the eyes, he didn't really feel like lying to her. Frank couldn't say why. Just didn't seem right. "Can I tell you a story, kid? Maybe it'll make you feel better."
Ellya
Frank Castle
Where to even start? He'd met this kid an hour ago. He needed to strike a balance between frightening and reassuring, but most of his story involved serial, wanton murder. Wasn't anywhere great in his nearly forty years as the Punisher. Before, that, though... Vietnam wasn't exactly pretty. Far from it, it was probably among the darkest moments in the United States' history. Still, Valley Forge would get the point across. Without looking at her, he took a shaky sigh, swallowing another bit of his own blood. Breathing was getting hard. He needed someone to look at him, but wasn't sure he wanted anyone here to do it. Maybe Kyou. Finally, Frank began to talk. "Third tour in Vietnam, I was posted at a firebase named 'Valley Forge' watching for VC to come in from Cambodia. Went over there, find out the wife was pregnant again a week later. You ever heard of the Vietnam war, kid?" Probably not, given what Frank knew of her world. She was born after the apocalypse started, if he recalled correctly. Several years after.
Shaking his head, he continued. "Doesn't matter. Just know it was a shitty decision for us to be there at all. Brass sent us over with M-16s, but they wouldn't work when they got wet. We were fighting in a fucking swamp. I'd already been there for most of the war. Platoon commander in tour one. Force recon in two. By the third, the war was basically over. How I ended up there, wasn't really anywhere else to send me." There wasn't really a faraway look about him or anything. Compared to the stuff Frank would go on to do later, the things he did in Vietnam were pretty tame. "Captain of a shithole that no one wanted to even keep active. Only half the base was staffed. Maybe a third of the GIs that were there still thought there was anything worth doing. The others were just riding the days out, waiting for the bird home, either high as a kite or just slacking off. I put together the only real platoon on base out of those that actually wanted to do something, instead of just waiting for the VC to find us." Boots stomping through the grass of a swampy jungle. Voices speaking in a foreign language. Men protecting their home from foreign invaders, stacked against impossible odds. The flash of gunfire from the bushes as Frank and his men gunned the patrol down. More than one hundred AKs recovered, on top of other heavy ordinance.
"We hit our third supply run that week. Meanwhile, we hadn't gotten supplies in months. Pissant in charge of the base didn't want to rock the boat, was what he was always saying." Frank didn't swallow the blood this time, spitting to the side with obvious contempt. "I tried to tell him something was coming. He wouldn't listen. We were out of range of other bases' artillery, and a storm was coming that night. A bad one. Any air support would be too souped in to help in time." A general visited. He was going to close the base down, no matter what Frank said. Took the fat old man on a tour. Stood in front of a sign. Old man walked up on the edge of the base. Never saw the sniper. A voice in his head. Pushing Frank further. Could have just been his imagination. Could have been the devil. The voice offered an eternal war. Claimed Frank was here again, despite leaving a wife and two kids at home, because he wanted to be there. "VC hit us hard in the night. I got my men together. We held for a few hours, long as we could. Couldn't get Da Nang on the radio." Then came the look. Frank stared straight ahead as he spoke. Not for what was happening around him at the time, but for the voice. Driving him. Taunting him.
"Boys did their best, but we were outnumbered ten to one. 'Sixty was burning up in my hands. Before I knew it, it was just me and thirty VC. All I had was a broken M-16 and a shovel." The voice came back. Promising to push him further. All he had to do was say yes, and Frank would fight on forever. The feeling of bullets tearing through his chest. His arm. His stomach. Frank wouldn't die there. A flash of steel as his shovel buried itself in someone's skull, swung like an axe. "I don't remember the rest very well. It's a blur of images, sounds and smells. I remember feeling things break when my weapon would make contact. Hearing screams fall silent. Planes flying overhead, and dropping smoke so they wouldn't hit me with the napalm. Climbing under a pile of bodies as that burning gasoline smell, mixed with shit and the smell of burnt corpses." Saying yes.
"Hueys touched down the next morning... that's a helicopter. Old one. A lot older than you, anyways. Was standing there, looking like a ghoul, in a field of corpses. I'd beaten anyone not caught by the napalm to death. Two dozen VC." Difficult to read what he was feeling there, even for Frank himself. Nostalgia? Dread? Longing? "I'd been shot eight times. Was well on my way to bleeding to death by the time they got me loaded up and sent me home. Honorable discharge, on my way to see my family." Definitely nostalgia. "Point is, don't care where you send me, or what with. I may not be a super freak, but I can take care of myself. I'm not gonna die just because you take a toothpick from me." Finally, he relented, returning the knife to his side. He didn't look over to see what Ellie thought. In all honesty, he wasn't sure she'd care; she might have checked out halfway through, dismissing him as an old man caught up in the past. He wouldn't have noticed.
Ellya
Frank Castle
The old man grunted, seeming satisfied as Ellie took the knife from him. The silence wasn't unwelcome. It let him stew on his thoughts for a while longer. Frank closed his eyes again. He could still smell the jungle when he tried. He could still hear the noise of insects. He could still feel the snap of twigs and leaves under his boots. The first time in his life that he felt like he had a real purpose was there, in that jungle, his boots tracking mud. Compared to where his life ended up back home, and then compared to Murder, he almost missed it. Things weren't simple then. They didn't make sense. Didn't matter. Peering through the foliage, Frank had felt right at home. He considered making a joke, or trying to tell a more lighthearted anecdote to ease the tension, but thought better of it. Couldn't think of one if he wanted to. Was there a single just genuinely funny thing that had happened to him in forty years?
Ellie broke the silence first. She turned to look at him. He could feel her eyes searching his face as she spoke. Her tone was delicate. Measured. She was worried the question would set him off, or otherwise upset him somehow. His expression didn't change. Ellie hadn't been specific. If Frank wanted to, he could play dumb. Shrug it off, pretend to mistake who she was talking about. Say something about a faceless GI he barely knew from his platoon. She probably wouldn't buy it, but it would brush the question off. He wouldn't have to answer it yet. After all, wasn't like she had any right to know. No one did, unless he chose to tell them.
"...I don't know what you're talking about, kid," Came his simple reply. There was no pain in his voice. Not in his face. He wasn't hiding anything. It had been almost forty years since the shooting in the park. All he felt when discussing the family he had lost was a cold, sinking sensation in his chest. Long ago, he stopped having nightmares about them. No, if anything, his voice was cold. Dispassionate. Pragmatic. Maybe that was a self-preservation thing. Maybe not. To Frank, the memories of his family were as clear as they were distant. They were vivid, but it was though they belonged to someone else. Like he was watching them through someone else's eyes. He sat there in completely still silence, eyes still closed, his chest rising the only sign that the hadn't fallen asleep, or worse. Unless Ellie broke the silence again, he sat there until something happened to get his attention. Alone in his thoughts. In the memories. He felt the skull on his chest like it was a physical weight. Frank reflected on his family in earnest for the first time in a long time. It was stupid of him to think he could just stop what he had done for so long. Stupid to think he could just replace them. Not again.
thatguyinthestore
@others
Ellya
as Ellie (The Last of Us) and Atreus (God of War)
CutieBoop
as Yoshi (Super Mario Bros) and Fuma Mishandra (Touhouverse)
BarrenThin2
as Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher) and Frank Castle (Marvel Comics)
QizPizza
as Gunner Sergeant Lazarus Yongheng Huang (OC)
thatguyinthestore
(Time Baby)
