(CLOSED-ish) There are things too terrible to remember.

[bellare]

Who: Frank Castle & others (so far: John Murphy, Rocket, Dutch, Juno Steel)
What: Questing!
When: Nowish
Where: Wyver, Nadril etc.
Warning(s): Extreme sass.


[ this is a catch-all for quests! if you would like to participate in a quest with frank, hit me up on disco @ hotdog#0520 or just PM me on dw!! i'd be more than happy to do more. ]

Comments

sorry my dudes, finals killed me

[mofi]

"How do you even know," Murphy shoots back. He brushes his shoulder against Frank's, trying to get him to stop breathing down his neck. "Personal space, you heard of it, right?"

His attention flits down to Rocket. "The opossum makes a good point." He jerks his thumb down in Rocket's general direction. "Pedicure?" His brows furrow, it's not a word he's actually heard before. "What the hell is that?"

and then december in general took a bite out of me

[bellare]

He shrugs and backs up an arbitrary step. Not like he still couldn't kill you from here, John. Then he's looking to Rocket, obviously bemused though trying his damnedest not to show it.

"I'm not an expert or anything, but I think it's when you get your toes painted in the salon." They don't have salons in their weird post-nuclear society??? Shocking.

[beatupgrass]

"Opossum?" Well, fuck that's a new one. He can add that to the list of things he's been called.

And meanwhile, his delightful sarcasm feels like it's going to be wasted on some of those present. He sighs and presses his face to the window. "Y'all can stick to the hitting things part of this, okay? That's clearly what we all can agree you're good at. I'll do the thinking."

[mofi]

Murphy likes his space, Frank. If you're going to kill him, at least give him some breathing room.

Why would anyone want to paint their toes? That sounds more like a grounder thing. Salon? Doesn't Frank mean a saloon like in those old western movies? It's something that Murphy watched from the archives back on the Ark.

He was alone and may well have spent it doing something.

"I guess that's not an end-of-the-world luxury." Murphy assumes it is one, even if it sounds odd. "Let me make something clear, you're not my boss. I'm here because I'm helping you both out. And I'll let you know if you're thinking is stupid."

[bellare]

"I like hitting things," Frank remarks blandly, hands in his pockets as he watches the scenery go by. "Especially things shaped like criminals."

But the mystery is intriguing too. This is technically his op, isn't it? But he has no issue relinquishing the credit to Rocket, John or anyone else. He's never been in it for the glory despite his sometimes conspicuous methods.

"Maybe we could all get along and hit things together." That was more his angle from the start, honestly.

[beatupgrass]

PECKING ORDER, JOHN. IT GOES YOU, THE DIRT, THE WORMS IN THE DIRT, ROCKET'S STOOL, THE WYVER GOVERNMENT, AND ROCKET... But fortunately while that is the thought in Rocket's head as he tears his rust-brown eyes from the window, he does not voice it.

"You might be asking a lot from three extremely brash alpha personalities all in one space, but I'm down with it." He guesses. If he kills something and gets paid for it, it's a good day. "This is either kids being shits or somebody who knows what they're doing and I'm really hoping it's the latter. Beating up on punkass kids ain't worth it."

[mofi]

Murphy realizes he will always be at the bottom of any order, the bottom of the barrel. The dirty gum sticking to the sole of your boots.

He wishes Bellamy was here. Bellamy, Echo, Monty, Harper, Emori. Anyone.

But he's stuck with Rocket and Frank. Things could be worse, Murphy supposes.

"Yeah," Murphy mumbles. "Punkass kids usually have reason to act like shits." Murphy knows, he used to be one. "Let's be the good guys and take in some criminals."

[bellare]

Frank nods, he's not about to fuck up a couple kids unless he thinks it will benefit them in the long run. Either way, he thinks they're the team for the job.

"Our stop is next, look alive."