Open Post

[thatmurdockboy]

Who: Matt Murdock (thatmurdockboy) & open
What: Exploring his new home
When: Anytime in November
Where: Prompts for both Wyver and Olympia
Warning(s): None/will update as necessary



I. Wyver

For someone as well-versed in the ways of the subway as Matt is, it's easy enough to get around on the train system. So he takes advantage of it to visit Wyver, as well. He's been told there are dragons here. So far he hasn't run into any, but he keeps his head cocked, listening for -- he's not sure what, exactly. What noises do dragons make? A hiss, maybe? At least he'd be able to feel the change in temperature if they breathed fire near him. Maybe even before. Even after twenty-five years, almost, of adjusting to his senses, apparently there are things that can still throw him.

He and Danny live in Olympia right now, though Danny said he'd be happy to move, so he might as well explore a bit. He walks slowly, sweeping his cane out in front of him to make sure he doesn't hit anyone (or anything) while he adjusts to the new sounds and smells. New York he knew like the back of his hand. This is all new territory, and it's a little frightening.



II. Olympia

When he first arrived in Olympia, he'd stayed pretty close to the house he share with his new roommate. But what little research he'd done on it had sounded interesting, and he's eager to explore. To push his own boundaries a little. He's already so far outside of Hell's Kitchen, he might as well.

Matt finds himself in the marketplace, which is a little disorienting. So many people talking at once, from all different directions. Usually he'd try to count heartbeats to see how many people were around him, but he thought he'd heard two heartbeats from the same place, and that just didn't seem right. But it's a new planet, with new people. And new -- possibly-not-people.

Anything can happen.

Comments

[thatmurdockboy]

The scent is definitely familiar. Not just the combination of leather and gunpowder and chocolate, but everything under that. Everyone has a slightly different smell, a particular rhythm to their heart, but if nothing else, then Frank's voice gives him away.

"I wasn't aware I was on the menu. I thought it was the other city that had nasty, man eating creatures."

[bellare]

He thinks that over, then hums in the negative.

"Every place has its monsters, Murdock. You just have to know where to look."

[thatmurdockboy]

The comment pulls him up sharply and he blinks behind his glasses. "Sorry, um. That just reminded me of someone I knew back home. Another Frank, actually. Same sort of pessimistic outlook, very uh, glass half empty.

He ended up being a client of mine. I'm a uh, I'm a lawyer, back home. Or I was."

[bellare]

Another Frank he knows? He narrows his eyes, he's never really thought of himself as a pessimist before if he's honest.

"I'm pragmatic," he defends blithely, not sounding concerned if Matt disagrees. The rest is sinking in slowly - a criminal he defended, named Frank. He doesn't use those words, but Frank can read between the lines. "A defense attorney?"

[thatmurdockboy]

"Oh, right. A realist. My apologies." He gestures, tone and expression dry. For as much darkness as Matt sees, he's always a little bit hopeful that he can do some good.

"A defense attorney, sure. Criminal law, usually. I take on the underdogs. The guys who might not have a chance, but I believe in them and in their cases."

[bellare]

"Don't tell me," Frank says with a smile that can be heard. "Every one of 'em is innocent, right?"

It's sweet, in a way, that Matt believes in people that much. Frank believes in people too - in their true nature. He's always ready when they show it, too.

[thatmurdockboy]

"It's slightly more complicated than that. But most of them I do believe are innocent. Or at least had valid reasons for doing what they did."

[bellare]

The line moves ahead so that Frank has to focus on putting one foot ahead of the other a second. Without thinking, he reaches out to nudge Matt's elbow so he doesn't miss his place. This is more relatable for him than he thought, he's never found common ground with a lawyer before, except maybe when he was a cop. That's not really him anymore as he's made clear time and time again.

"Did this other Frank have a valid reason for whatever it is he did?"

[thatmurdockboy]

"Oh -- thank you." He appreciates the help moving forward, and rests his arm on top of Frank's. Letting himself be guided.

"I thought he did, at least. The man was a war hero, Marine Corps. And then when he came home, his family was attacked in Central Park. He took a bullet to the head. He refused to let us use PTSD as a potential cause for his actions but the men he was going after -- they were bad men. Mobsters taking advantage of innocent people for their own ends. Murderers, drug dealers, pedophiles. Each man that Castle took down had a police record a few miles long.

The city was pretty split on him, but in the end he plead guilty. Against my firm's advice, I might add."

[bellare]

He smiles again, something kinder as Matt's hand settles over his. At least he didn't take offense. Frank pats his arm and pulls back to listen. It all sounds eerily familiar, but it doesn't sink in until he hears the man's name. Frank drops his chocolate milk, suddenly feeling like oxygen isn't getting to his lungs. He puts a hand on his chest, eyes wide. Is he dying or having a panic attack?

"I... sorry," he huffs out, but what the fuck? "Did you say Castle? His name is Frank Castle." Is this another test? He sees Maria's face behind his eyelids when he blinks, peacefully slumbering in her cryopod. It isn't the first time he's regretted agreeing to help these people and he's thinking now, with his chest tight and breathing harsh, that it definitely won't be the last.

[thatmurdockboy]

"Whoa -- hey." Matt pulls them out of line to a less crowded area and keeps a firm grip on Frank's arms. "You're okay, just breathe. Breathe and listen to my voice. You're going to be fine.

His name was Frank Castle, yes. Did you know him?" It wouldn't be surprising, honestly. Half of New York knew who Frank Castle was.

[bellare]

He doesn't even notice leaving the line, he's that spun up. Matt's hands don't feel like contact so much as anchor points and he leans into him slightly as he tries to breathe. He just wanted chocolate milk, goddamnit. He gently pulls out of Matt's touch so he can sit down right there in the middle of the store. Frank stopped caring a long time ago what anyone thought of him, he's not about to start here.

"I would say so. I'm Frank Castle."

It's not the most uncommon name, he knows, but he lost his family then started killing criminals? Get your own origin story, buddy!

[thatmurdockboy]

"I would say that's impossible, but I'm starting to learn that nothing is impossible here." Matt sits in front of them, their knees touching slightly. Just so he can keep contact with this man saying he's Frank Castle.

"I've met people who know me but I don't know them. This is my first time being on the other end of it. So Frank Castle, from New York.

Does the name The Punisher mean anything to you?"

[bellare]

The touch grounds him just enough not to go spiralling out, but before he can protest that he doesn't know Matt at all—he's never met anyone named Matt Murdock or even just a lawyer named Matt— his vision is swimming and his belly doing nauseous flops at what he hears next.

"That's- that's my name. The name I took, after..." After everything changed. He needs to get it together, think this through. Matt is right, it has something to do with the way this place works. He's not crazy, at least, no crazier than before. "That's my name."

The thought of anyone else taking it is enough to send him over the edge on its own.

[thatmurdockboy]

"But you don't know me." He keeps his voice calm and soft. Even tempered. Letting his breathing slow a little to see if Frank will match his breathing to help start to calm himself a little.

"From what I understand, there can be multiple versions of us. My roommate, Danny. He remembers the two of us working together, but I don't.

Maybe you're from a different time. Or a different New York entirely. But that doesn't matter. What matters is you're here, now, and that I'm here with you.

Listen to my voice, okay? I'm going to try to help you breathe through it."

People seem to be giving them a wide enough berth, so Matt rests his hands, palms up, where their knees meet. And invitation, if Frank wants something solid to hold onto.

"You're still Frank Castle. And we're here, in Olympia. Whatever weirdness has caused this, we'll try to work it out together, okay?"

He didn't abandon Frank then, not on purpose. And he sure as hell isn't going to now. Not now that he has a second chance at helping him.

[bellare]

"No," he grunts, managing to answer the question without totally losing it. He glances at the man's offered hands and wonders what he should do - he thinks of Danny, their conversation about 'zen.' Clearly, he'd been right about having none. And he wonders idly if that's who Matt is talking about, the more innocuous thinking he can do right now, the better.

Alternate versions, alternate timelines. It's the only thing that explains any of this. And yet it should be unbelievable.

"And I wasn't a Marine. I told you already - Army, Delta Force, FBI." It should have been the trajectory for the perfect career in military intelligence. Instead, his whole life ruined by one bad op. He puts his hands on his own knees and avoids the other man's gesture, but he's breathing deeper now, those spots disappearing from his vision. "Didn't get shot either. Those bastards thought they could blow me up."

Somehow, focusing on the differences between himself and the Frank Castle Matt knows is helping him, so he keeps rolling with the facts.

"Oh, and I'm from Washington. D.C." Well, not originally, but still. An alternate New York didn't seem as likely as an entire dimension. "You said was. Is he...?"

[thatmurdockboy]

It feels unbelievable. A different Frank from a different place. He tries to quash the quiet hope bubbling at the back of his head saying A new start, a new chance.

"Okay, so you aren't exactly the same. The Frank I knew grew up in Hell's Kitchen. Married young, two kids. Joined the marines. Did a few tours in Iraq. Then he came home and he was shot in the head. Spent a long, long time trying to track down who did it. Left a lot of bodies in his wake.

Thus: The Punisher. But it took us ages to find a neutral jury. Most of the people thought he was doing good in the city, taking out criminals and mob bosses. He was a hero to a lot of people."

The question clicks and he shakes his head, "No, the last I saw him, he was fighting off a dozen Yakuza. By my side."

[bellare]

He smiles, thinking of New York where he likely grew up as well. It seems like so long ago, really, but hearing about this other man's life is just that: unbelievable, and yet he's hingeing himself on Matt's every word.

"I'm not a hero," he points out, about the only thing he's sure of in this moment. He knows some people think that way about him, but it's never what he set out to do. What Matt says next just has him wondering if he's spiraling out again. He thought he was feeling better, not worse, but blind people don't generally fight mobsters so what gives?

"You work with him?" That changes things quite a bit, doesn't it? Matt's disability notwithstanding.

[thatmurdockboy]

"Would you believe me if I said it's complicated? A longer story than should be told in the middle of a store."

He's reminded very starkly of his own Frank. Of his instance that he's done nothing heroic. Maybe the two of them aren't so different after all.

"Well," he says, trying to keep his voice light. "I don't know this Frank Castle very well yet, so I can't speak for you, can I?"

[bellare]

Oh, right. He'd already forgotten where they were. His hand reaches out to wrap around Matt's wrist firmly.

"No, but you can help him up." If a blind guy can fight Yakuza, he doesn't feel bad asking him to drag him up off the floor.

[thatmurdockboy]

"Yeah, all right." He stands and offers Frank his hand, smiling faintly. For all they weren't the same Frank, they had the same feel. The same scent, almost. But those aren't things you say out loud to someone.

"Come on, not a hero. I'll walk you back to your place, if you want."

[bellare]

He grabs onto Matt's arm solidly and hauls himself up, finally calming some once he's on his feet again.

"I'm living on the station, you don't have to make a special trip for me." Frank goes to retrieve his chocolate milk off the floor, looking down at it like it knows something he doesn't.