nysalogs | (OPEN) I've got more right now than ever.

Who: Frank Castle (

bellare), a smol zebra & YOU (new characters more than welcome!)
What: Frank and Eris are apartment hunting!
When: Now!
Where: Various locations
Warning(s): You might get sassed by a dog-sized zebra so like, tread with caution.

Frank thinks it might be high time for him to move to the planet below Thesa. The recent chaos notwithstanding, the commute to Wyver is getting a bit taxing, and he's always liked having both feet on the (actual) ground. Though he's sure the room won't be much better than the one he has on the station, it will be better for Eris to have somewhere to roam around. (Her legs are much shorter than in the picture, her head only comes up to his knee.) He can be found looking for places in Olympia and Wyver though ultimately, the latter ends up being more understanding about his animal companion. Or maybe the places are just dumpy enough that no one cares. It's not like Frank has or can afford to have standards.

You might see him as well packing his room on the station, not that he has much to speak of. It's mostly clothes, ammo, and things he's accumulated for his new pet. He also keeps the rainbow eggshell that she somehow hatched out of in hopes of finding answers to that mystery someday. She's his new best friend even if he doesn't know her origins. Whether you meet up with them while they're shopping for housewares, moving in and out, or just exploring the land around their new apartment complex, Frank will be as reasonably friendly as always, if bland. But Eris will demand of anyone who looks her way, by rearranging her stripes insistently into the letters: HELP? followed by a hard beat of her hoof against the ground. Humans are so lame, they have to be bullied into doing anything useful, she's found.

[ i will match brackets so no worries, or if you want to plot something else just PM and we'll make it happen. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( it just so happens, frank, that you've had a near-genuine boyscout stumble over your efforts here, and even though you're perfect strangers, he's not about to just walk on by when it looks like you could use some help. moving has to be one of the most awful things in any universe ever, an exponentially awful thing the more stuff you have to move, so it's always nice to have a little bit of help.

even if it's just moving boxes. he's always there to lend a helping hand.

~~the floating one could probably carry one more thing all on its own, but we're not testing that out just yet.~~

his smile spreads just a little bit at the nudge to his leg, even if it comes off passive aggressive. this zebra … is genuinely freaking amusing, and he's not about to catch himself not being amused for a while yet. ) Likewise. Just coming out of stasis, or needed a change of scenery? ( because smalltalk! is! important. or something. when you're making new friends?

maybe he's bad at this. it's not like he has a lot of time to socialize, normally. )

[ the wholesomeness is practically dripping off this kid, but it doesn't deter him. not yet anyway. he hasn't actually done anything... violent here yet, which might make it easier for him to pretend to belong. or maybe he really is that lonely. either way, he's allowing all of this to happen, probably because shiro is so earnest. ]

From what I hear, the station's not long for this world. And... I work in Wyver, so.

[ it isn't at all because he's running away from ghosts. not at ALL. he hits the lift button with the toe of his boot. if he notices any social impairment on shiro's end, he doesn't let on. it's not like he's great at making friends himself. well, at least not on purpose. ]

( shiro is just. a good man all around, the sort that will go out of his way to help in any way he can, regardless of the hows or whys or whatever else; he might not ever refer to himself as particularly wholesome, but there have been times in the past in which he's picked up on someone being lonely.

not that he would ever press his presence on anyone — he'll always leave if he isn't wanted — but, you know. sometimes it's just nice to make new friends. tentative acquaintances. something like that.

he makes a sort of humming noise in the back of his throat, maybe just a little bit contemplative, or maybe he's just mulling things over. ) Yeah, that's what I've heard, too. ( and then there's the tiniest huff of laughter, more an abbreviated exhale through his nose than anything else. ) Perfect time to come out of stasis, if you ask me.

( poking fun at himself, here. shiro, not everyone can appreciate your attempts at humor. )

[ 'wholesomeness' in this case is just anyone who would help another person for no real cause. he doesn't come from a place where people do that, at least not often. not in a way he wouldn't scrutinize. shiro's particular brand of humor does resonate with frank, however. he's a big fan of self-deprecation, himself. ]

There you go, timing doesn't get any more impeccable than that.

[ he smiles lightly as the elevator car plummets downward. eris stamps her feet, whinnying restlessly. ]

She hates this part.

( that's incredibly valid; human beings are, as a whole are flighty in their own right, self-serving to the point that it's anyone's guess how they get through on their own.

some people are just like that, we suppose. but it's not the point. not really.

that light, almost-smile stays where it is as he peers down at eris, then over at the elevator as it makes its way down. ) At least it isn't stairs. ( that isn't supposed to be funny, but you might just go ahead and admit the mental image of a small zebra trying to go up several flights of stairs is amusing. ) How far up are you going?

I found a place in Wyver. [ he reiterates, or rather expounds on his earlier statement. then shrugs a shoulder. ] I appreciate you doing this.

I can make you something in return, I work at the Killbox out there.

[ if shiro's heard of it he'll know a crazy raccoon with a mind for weapons and tech runs the show. frank's just extra hands, or so he'd want you to believe. ]

( oh, right. there's been a tiny little bit of talk about this before — and it isn't that he hadn't been listening, but expounding is always nice, and it furthers that smalltalk that he may or may not be getting better at.

or at least he thinks. he might be dead-ass wrong, but until someone proves him wrong, he'll just keep right on thinking it. ) Hey, no problem. I was in the neighborhood. ( he pauses here, makes a small dismissive wave of his hand. he hasn't heard of the place but it goes without saying ( maybe ) that he hasn't been around long enough to figure out all the ins and outs of everything about this place.

sounds kind of interesting, though. so maybe he has to ask: ) You don't have to — first lending hand is free of charge. ( a beat, and a small smile. ) Out of curiosity, though, what kind of things do you make?

[ he snorts at that though he's sure it wasn't really a joke. in the neighborhood... on a space station. this is his new normal, he supposes. ]

I don't mind. Rocket mostly makes weapons, but I've been building some engines too. You ride bikes?

( maybe it was kind of a joke, maybe it wasn't, you'll never know. and you don't need to, anyway.

… does he ride bikes. that just makes him think of all the times he used to spend racing keith through the desert back at the garrison, their hoverbikes struggling to keep up with the speeds they were trying to milk out of him, and if he smiles fondly at the thought of it, he just can't help it.

finally, after that tiny bit of nostalgia: ) Been a long time since I have, but I think I'd trade my right arm to get back on one. ( he looks down at his prosthetic, makes a face that looks almost sheepish. ) But it looks like I already did and got stiffed on the other end of the deal.

[ his gaze tracks over to the prosthetic. he'd noticed it but hadn't thought anything of it until shiro drew attention to it. ]

Let me see what I can do to get you back out there. [ frank wouldn't mind someone to ride with anyway. ]

(OPEN) I've got more right now than ever.

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