Frank Castle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scoutsniper) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-10-15 11:13 am
scoutsniper) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-10-15 11:13 am
Running montage of Johnny Cash
who: Frank Castle and YOU!
what: Getting to know the lay of the land here, and probably getting into trouble
when: October 15-20
where: Various points in the city
warnings: Pre-emptive warning for Frank's alpha male bullshit.
i MEMORY SHARE
[It's fast, but dark, a long hallway with off-green lighting, and it hurts to move--each step with the left foot sends a squishing stab of pain, knuckles already bruised and raw, but still aiming at bodies, running up.
A gun in the hand, aiming to kill, and then another flare of pain, the gun knocked out, hand against the wall, and then anger. Because they deserve it. For what they did to you, for what they did to your city. They hurt you, but that doesn't matter, you can hurt them back, and you can never hurt them enough.]
ii On the roof of the main housing building
[No one ever looks up. He learned that years ago, in the Marines. No one ever looks up. If you're above eye level, you're basically goddam invisible.
He wants to be invisible, right now, till he learns this place. It wasn't the first time he'd been dropped in the middle of foreign, hostile territory. He knew what to do--stay quiet, stay high, learn the place, day and night.
He's patient. He has a thermos of coffee, pouring himself a cup when he needs it, mostly just watching, moving from corner to corner to cover the whole view.]
iiiPerimeter Guard
[At least they gave him a job. Something he could do. He wasn't sure about working with a team--not again. Not after finding how deep Schoonover had gotten his hooks into the other Marines, men who, at one time, had been good men.
But it has a range, and that, at least, is something almost comforting, something he's good at. He'll start with the pistols, sending rounds down range with a speed that shows he's either really that damn good, or he 's working through some serious anger issues. Or both. Probably both.]
iv The Streets
[He does get to ground level from time to time, roaming the dark alleys at night. Because that's where bad people go, and that's who he hunts. So if he sees anyone, especially anyone looking shady, he'll confront them. ]
The hell are you doing here?
v Wildcard me!
what: Getting to know the lay of the land here, and probably getting into trouble
when: October 15-20
where: Various points in the city
warnings: Pre-emptive warning for Frank's alpha male bullshit.
i MEMORY SHARE
[It's fast, but dark, a long hallway with off-green lighting, and it hurts to move--each step with the left foot sends a squishing stab of pain, knuckles already bruised and raw, but still aiming at bodies, running up.
A gun in the hand, aiming to kill, and then another flare of pain, the gun knocked out, hand against the wall, and then anger. Because they deserve it. For what they did to you, for what they did to your city. They hurt you, but that doesn't matter, you can hurt them back, and you can never hurt them enough.]
ii On the roof of the main housing building
[No one ever looks up. He learned that years ago, in the Marines. No one ever looks up. If you're above eye level, you're basically goddam invisible.
He wants to be invisible, right now, till he learns this place. It wasn't the first time he'd been dropped in the middle of foreign, hostile territory. He knew what to do--stay quiet, stay high, learn the place, day and night.
He's patient. He has a thermos of coffee, pouring himself a cup when he needs it, mostly just watching, moving from corner to corner to cover the whole view.]
iiiPerimeter Guard
[At least they gave him a job. Something he could do. He wasn't sure about working with a team--not again. Not after finding how deep Schoonover had gotten his hooks into the other Marines, men who, at one time, had been good men.
But it has a range, and that, at least, is something almost comforting, something he's good at. He'll start with the pistols, sending rounds down range with a speed that shows he's either really that damn good, or he 's working through some serious anger issues. Or both. Probably both.]
iv The Streets
[He does get to ground level from time to time, roaming the dark alleys at night. Because that's where bad people go, and that's who he hunts. So if he sees anyone, especially anyone looking shady, he'll confront them. ]
The hell are you doing here?
v Wildcard me!
no subject
It's a saloon and six other men are sitting at the table with him, laughing and joking with each other. The man closest to Billy leans over to whisper in his ear, "The owl followed me here."
"Nothing is following you, Goody," comes Billy's voice.
"I heard the voice."
"Goody..."
"I heard it."
"Goody."
The man Billy refers to as "Goody" sounds truly frightened as he continues, saying that if he were to pull the trigger in violence again he would die a ghastly death. Billy remains silent as he takes an opium cigarette and lights it up, taking a drag before passing it to Goody. "They are just dreams, Goody," says Billy.]
Old habits are hard to get rid of.
[The Billy-in-the-now says simply before taking a sip from the thermos. He doesn't bother with explaining that where he came from, just looking the way he did was enough to garner hostility. The coffee does its job of warming him up and giving his mind a little kick.]
Thanks. [He holds the thermos out for it to be taken back.] Not in the mood for sleep?