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iholdmysaiproperly · 4 years ago

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This is my contribution to the @daredevilexchange, a fic for @valinorbound using the prompts, Foggy, Karen, and Matt setting up their new partnership, a post-Defenders reunion, and team as family.

“What do you mean you haven’t spoken to any of the other Defenders?” Foggy asked as he strained to squeeze a conference table into the space above Theo’s shop. The Three Avocados, as Foggy liked to call them, were busy trying to convert space previously used for storage into a semblance of a lawyer’s office.

Foggy and Karen were trying to treat Matt’s vigilante side job like a normal extracurricular activity. But it was proving to be a little harder for them than if Matt had taken up, say, the violin. Foggy thought that Matt was better off in a team up, rather than working alone - safer that way - and had brought up the Defenders. It turned out that Matt hadn’t spoken to any of them since the Midland Circle debacle.

Matt, after trying to duck the question for at least five minutes by attempting to clear some clutter from what was soon to be their waiting room and keeping up a running commentary of what he guessed the items were, had finally mumbled something about not having seen them since the building had come down. He hoped they would drop the subject, but judging from Karen’s quick intake of breath and the fact that Foggy had completely stopped all movement for about 10 seconds told him that this was never going to happen.

“Matt, buddy,” Foggy began, “I saw them after it all happened. When we all thought you were, you know,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “dead.”

Behind him, Karen rolled her eyes, but stayed silent, emptying out an old file cabinet she hoped they could use.

“And, let me tell you, man, they were pretty broken up about it. I mean, you stayed down there when they all came up. That leaves a mark on people. Hell, Matt, YOU leave a mark on people, and you really need to get better at the whole,” here he stopped his futile efforts with the table and leaned against it, “you know, communicating thing. Starting with NOT LETTING PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU GO ON BELIEVING THAT YOU’RE DEAD.”

“What Foggy is trying to say,” Karen interrupted, shooting Foggy a look over her shoulder as she approached Matt, “Is that even if you don’t team up with these people again, you should at least let them know that you’re ok.”

“I’m sure they’ve heard by now,” Matt answered them dismissively. “It was a little hard to miss Daredevil’s return; it was all over the news!” Hearing both Foggy’s and Karen’s heartbeats start to pick up, he asked, “What?”. They were both getting worked up about something, but he really just wanted to focus on what they were doing - making a fresh start for the new Nelson, Murdock, and Page and making sure they were ready to open the doors on schedule.

Seeing that Foggy was about to yell again, or possibly pull his hair out in frustration, Karen placed a hand on his arm and took a step forward, “Matt, don’t you think that they might want to hear it from you? Whatever the four of you went through down there, it was pretty intense. And then to think that you stayed down there when they all got out. That had to have been difficult for them. I think you owe it to them to at least let them know that you survived.” As she spoke, Karen moved slowly toward Matt, as if toward a skittish cat. “They may not love you like we do, but I’m sure they’d be happy to hear from you again if you were to reach out.”

Matt sighed, running his fingers back through his hair and turning away for a moment. They were right. He knew they were right, but at the same time, his plate felt awfully full just then. The Yakuza seemed to be trying to make a play for the hole left by the Hand, he, Foggy, and Karen were attempting to get their new partnership underway, which meant a lot of physical work as well as paperwork, and he was making more of an effort to be a better friend to both of them. This meant trying to juggle a worklife, social life, and his nightlife, and he lived in constant fear that one of those balls was going to drop on his head.

The thought of reaching out to three more people, even if it was just socially, was more than he really felt up to at the moment. Admitting that, however, was something that he just didn’t think he could do right now, either. He couldn’t see their faces, but he could picture the sympathetic looks that Foggy and Karen would give him, as well as the requisite pep talks and encouragement to cut back on his nighttime activities if he so much as hinted that he was feeling a little overwhelmed.

After a moment, he decided that the only way through this was to admit that Foggy and Karen were right, and call up the other Defenders. Maybe he would get lucky and a quick phone call would suffice.

____________________________________________________________________________

Murdocks don’t get lucky, Matt thought as the limo he sat in propelled him through the city. We get hit, we get up, we use pain to keep us going, but we never get lucky.

Matt’s hope and plan went off the rails with his first phone call. It was to Jessica, who first hung up on him, then called him back to yell at him until he had to hold the phone away from his ear fearful of hearing damage. She hung up on him again, then called back, clearly inside a bottle, to yell some more. It took him two days before he recovered enough to call Luke, who was overjoyed to hear from him, but a lot more sane about the call than Jessica had been. Fewer expletives as well.

The call had gone so well, in fact, that he immediately called Danny, a decision he was now regretting. Danny had also been overjoyed to hear from him, and had immediately suggested that the four of them meet and catch up. “You don’t have to do a thing,” he promised over the phone, “I’ll arrange everything. Hey, did I tell you I bought that restaurant we all met at? Yeah, after the car came through the front window, I sort of had to in order to avoid being sued. Anyway, it’s mine now so I can host you all there for a reunion dinner! I’ll call the others and set it up, how’s the 20th work for you?” Given that it was the 1st, and the 20th seemed ages off, Matt agreed and hung up the phone wondering what he had gotten himself into.

The next few weeks flew by as they continued getting Nelson, Murdock, and Page up and running. They were officially open for business, and the word about the hot shot pro bono attorneys was spreading. Karen was almost never in the office, off following some lead while Matt and Foggy did their best to keep up with the unending stream of people who flowed through their doors.

They were so busy, in fact, that Matt had completely forgotten about his dinner with the Defenders until a limo had pulled up outside of the shop one evening, and a beaming Danny - he could actually hear the man smile - had him by the arm and inside the limo before he had time to blink.

Any attempts Matt made at stalling or entering the restaurant quietly were thwarted by Danny, who pulled him inside, while calling out enthusiastically to the others the whole time. Matt was immediately greeted by a punch to the gut and an, “Asshole!” from Jessica, who was clearly still mad at his failure to communicate the fact that he was still alive. He struggled to get his breath back while he felt Luke watching him, “I’m STILL not giving you a hug,” the bigger man told him, his hands folded inside his hoodie, “But I am glad to see you, man. Glad you’re still with us.” And with that, he good naturedly swatted Matt on the arm while Matt tried not to flinch, remembering the wallop he had just received.

Luke moved off toward Jessica, who Matt could hear pouring shot after shot of what smelled like cheap whiskey. Guilt flooded him for a moment as he faced the fact that his decisions had caused this pain. But, he had promised Foggy and Karen that he was going to start doing better, so he took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was coming next.

Danny, who hadn’t let go of his arm as if afraid Matt was going to turn around and leave again, pulled him further into the restaurant toward a table in the back that was already filled with food. Given how much Danny could eat, that wasn’t surprising. Matt seated himself and began to toy with this knife and fork. For a moment he was actually thankful to be blind, as it meant he didn’t have to make eye contact with anyone as the others seated themselves at the table and dinner got underway.

The meal started out somewhat awkwardly with Danny doing most of the talking. Eventually, Matt managed to get a word in edgewise, and apologized to the others for not reaching out sooner. There was a brief pause while the others let him squirm for a moment, and then things relaxed and the evening became a lot more, if not fun, then at least enjoyable.

So enjoyable, in fact, that when Jessica announced she had to leave to follow up on something, the other three decided to join her. A lot of whiskey went into this decision, but Jessica had said this was a routine surveillance, after all, so what could go wrong?

____________________________________________________________________________

Matt cursed the Murdock luck again as he ducked what sounded an awful lot like a computer printer flying at his head. The paper tray had come loose and was sliding outward in one direction while the power cord whipped around in the other, making a whistling sound that distracted him. He dodged the printer easily, but the cord caught him across the face. He grabbed it and used it to swing the printer back at the thug that had thrown it at him, knocking the guy backwards so that he stumbled into the man standing behind him, taking them both out.

Jessica’s “routine surveillance” had turned out to be on a very angry and destructive executive who had been caught slipping back into his office presumably to destroy evidence that showed the fact that he had been appropriating funds. Jessica was acting on a tip that the scumbag was planning on leaving the country soon, and she was hoping to gather evidence of this tonight.

A security guard clearly on the man’s payroll spotted Jessica taking pictures, though, and all hell had broken loose. The next thing any of them knew, they were engaged with several hired goons who had clearly been instructed not to let them get away. When the hired thugs realized that they were clearly outmatched, they became desperate, throwing everything but the proverbial kitchen sink at the group. It didn’t really matter in the end, but it did slow the Defenders down enough that the evidence was destroyed before the executive was out the door and into a town car. This led to a heated argument about whether they should follow him, or simply turn over the images that Jessica had managed to take before the shit hit the fan and walk away from the mess. Matt was personally torn on the subject; this wasn’t normally his game, but he hated to see guilty people slip away. Luke was all for turning over the evidence and getting out of there before someone called the cops on them, and Matt was leaning toward agreeing with him, but Jessica and Danny were outraged and argued that it wasn’t enough to simply send some images when the guy could be anywhere within an hour.

In the end, it was decided that Matt and Danny would trail him while Jessica and Luke got the images into the right hands. Thankfully, the guy was easy to trail from the rooftops, and they were able to keep reporting on his whereabouts while Jessica and Luke got the info to her client, who was able to go to the police with his case.

It was dawn before Matt made it back to his apartment. He managed a quick shower and a quick nap before he dragged himself into the office for the day. For the first time in ages, he actually considered calling in, but he knew that if he did the others would worry, and he had enough guilt to deal with. Making them worry wasn’t something he could bring himself to do just then.

Foggy and Karen were waiting for him, both of them clearly eager to hear about how his evening had gone. Matt could hear them talking excitedly when he entered the shop and headed for the back stairs. They were hoping that he had enjoyed himself and that maybe he would consider working with one or more of them in the future, which Foggy felt would be safer for him in the long run, to have someone watching his back, what happened at Midland Circle notwithstanding. Matt was touched, and had to pause for a moment before he let them know he was there. He didn’t want them to realize that he had overheard them. That, and he was pretty sure he looked terrible after last night, plus he was moving a little oddly due to Jessica’s punch, which had left him a very sore, and black and blue stomach.

He could smell coffee, though, and in his rush to arrive on time he hadn’t had any yet. He was so desperate for caffeine he was willing even to drink the coffee if Karen had made it. In fact, he might have to ask her to make him his own pot; he was so tired he was afraid he’d end up doing something dumb like forgetting to put the carafe under the stream.

Pausing outside the door, he straightened up, suppressed a hiss of pain from his bruised abs, and plastered a smile on his face. He knew he looked bad, but he wasn’t sure exactly how bad until he went in and heard both Karen’s and Foggy’s heart rates jump up about 50 beats a minute each. They were both silent for a moment before they rushed him, talking at once.

“Matt! What happened,” Karen asked as she ran to take his cane and steer him toward a chair.

“Matt, buddy! What the hell happened last night? I thought you were having dinner with Danny, Luke, and Jessica!” Foggy was alternating coming in close and quickly backing up again, obviously not sure what to do. “You look like shit, buddy. Don’t tell me you blew them off and went out Daredeviling,” Matt could hear the frown in Foggy’s voice and was quick to reassure him.

“No, no, I did meet up with them. I swear. And it was nice, really. I mean, Jessica punched me in the stomach when I first walked in,” Matt paused as he heard Karen’s sharp intake of breath. She reached a hand toward his stomach, but he brushed it away with a shake of his head. “I’ll be fine, really. And I did deserve it. I realize now that I shouldn’t have left them hanging like I did. And, can I get some coffee? Please? I was out till dawn, and I haven’t had any yet.” He trailed off, his head starting to pound from caffeine withdrawal. He must have looked as bad as he felt since Karen got up to fill him a cup without asking any questions.

“So, what, did Luke and Danny take turns on the rest of you? It looks like you got smacked in the face by a whip,” Foggy had finally succumbed to his need to be close to Matt, and was gently turning Matt’s face toward the window with his fingers so he could get a better look at the damage.

“Actually, it was the power cord from a printer,” Matt said sheepishly as he took the cup of coffee from Karen, “Thanks,” he told her, “this is exactly what I need.”

“A power cord?” “From a printer?” Foggy and Karen spoke over one another in their confusion. Matt had to laugh in spite of himself.

“Yeah, I know, it sounds weird. But… trust me we did have a great time. It was a little awkward at the beginning, but then we relaxed and it was good to catch up. I apologized for not having reached out sooner.”

“And they whipped you with a power cord?” Foggy interrupted. He and Karen were both confused, and starting to wonder if Matt had hit his head.

“No, no, that happened later,” Matt laughed. “Jessica needed to go to check up on something for a client. We decided to follow her, and if I’m honest a lot of whiskey went into that decision. Things went a little sideways, which is where the printer came from. I’ll spare you the details, but the cops arrested the guy just before 4. We split up then and I made it home before 5, grabbed about two hours of sleep and here I am. We agreed to stay in touch, though, maybe make dinner a regular thing if not the fighting.” Matt smiled at his friends, who he could tell were torn about how they felt on this subject.

“Well,” Foggy began slowly, “are you sure you want to be here today? No offense buddy but you really do look like shit. In fact, I’m not sure you should see any clients; I think you’ll scare them.”

Matt started to protest, but then paused, weighing Foggy’s words. It was true his appearance might be off putting to some of their older clients if Foggy and Karen’s reactions were anything to go by, and it was also true that he was trying to be more open about how he felt with Foggy and Karen - part of their agreement when they decided to work together again, but he honestly didn’t want to leave either, despite how gnarly he felt. He decided to come clean.

“Yeah, I know I probably look awful, and frankly I’m not feeling that great either, but I think I’d really rather be here with both of you than home on my own.” He paused to try to get a read on the others, but they were still and silent, heartbeats steady. More nervous now, he continued, “I could just hole up in the back, take care of the back end details, Foggy you could handle the face to face for the day,” he trailed off, as the others were still not giving him anything to work with.

Evidently, though, they had both come to a decision, “Sure thing, buddy,” Foggy said, standing, “Why don’t we clear off that table near the closet and you can work there for the day. It’s kind of hidden behind those weird Chinese screens my mom stashed up here, so no one will see you. And besides,” he said, with a glance at Karen, “I think I speak for both Karen and myself when I say that we’d probably be happier to have you here with us where we can keep an eye on you than have you off on your own, knowing that you’d be likely to jump off a fire escape or something just to help an old lady across the street.” He was smiling, Matt could hear it in his voice. Karen said nothing, but refilled his coffee cup and went to start clearing off the back table.

Matt smiled at Foggy in relief, glad to finally have no secrets between him and his friends - his family.

#daredevil exchange #daredevil fic #defenders #matt murdock #daredevilexchange

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angelofberlin2000 · 5 years ago

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A wonderful article about the recent blossoming of the Keanu orchid ....

By Stephanie Zacharek

June 21, 2019

One of the great things about living in the modern world is that everyone is finally hip to Keanu Reeves. Right now he’s everywhere: Not just in the superb sequel John Wick: Chapter 3—Parabellum, but on talk shows, as a character in the upcoming video game Cyberpunk 2077, and as a hotter-than-hell but also endearingly insecure Canadian daredevil doll in Toy Story 4. He’s on Buzzfeed answering the public’s questions as puppies scramble around him, and he has a cameo in a Netflix romantic comedy, Always Be My Maybe, playing a version of himself, if he were sort of a jerk, which, from all reports, he surely is not. Reeves has become the Internet boyfriend du jour, thanks in part to a series of photographs swirling around the web that show how respectful he is when posing with random fans—or even with Dolly Parton—taking care to avoid anything that could be construed as inappropriate touching. Keanu enthusiasts have even launched a change.org petition to make him TIME’s Person of the Year. That choice is made solely by TIME editors, but hey, you never know.

Keanu here, Keanu there, Keanu, Keanu everywhere: This is a 54-year-old overnight sensation who has been making movies since 1986, the year he appeared in Tim Hunter’s teens-in-trouble thriller River’s Edge. At last, he’s getting the unqualified love he deserves, and those of us who have always loved him can rest easy. Now is not the time to gloat.

Who are we kidding? Of course it’s the time to gloat. There have always been people who love Reeves, ferociously and defensively, as a personality and as a vibe. How could you not like him as a time-traveling, mop-headed swain in the Bill and Ted movies, as a surfing cop in Point Break, as earnest, searching Neo, the One, in The Matrix movies? But historically, even people who like Reeves as a performer have often been quick to add that they’re not sure he’s a good actor. Before the Internet, there was a thing called dinner parties, and when the conversation turned to Keanu Reeves, you could be assured of hearing some variation of the following: He’s a bad actor. What he does is not really acting, he’s just playing himself. He’s good in action roles. He’s OK but he really shouldn’t attempt Shakespeare. He has no emotional range. He’s just bad.

The problem most likely lies not with Keanu’s gifts as a performer but with a general perception of what good acting is. People are often afraid to say anyone is a good actor, unless it’s Meryl Streep. They don’t want their judgment to be found wanting, and thus they make their own insecurities the actor’s problem. In 1993, it was almost impossible to defend Keanu’s performance as the resentful, conflicted villain Don John in Kenneth Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing without being laughed at. It’s true he’s not Shakespearean in, say, the Laurence Olivier mode—he hasn’t lived inside the words of Shakespeare for a lifetime, perpetually kicking away at the best and truest ways to push those words out into the world. His Shakespearean acting is a movie-star version, a kind of pop interpretation that speaks to us more through an understanding of movie images than through deep Shakespearean study.

At one point, the preternaturally miserable Don John lies on a massage table, his muscles being worked over by Richard Clifford’s Conrade, who seems to feel his friend’s unrest rippling through his skin and asks him about it. Don John springs from the table. Anger and envy have been coiled inside him like the instinctive energy of a snake—they snap out into the air, a visible force. This physical outburst sets us up for a flurry of bitter but self-aware words: “Though I cannot be said to be a flattering, honest man, it must not be denied that I am a plain-dealing villain.” The line spins out in a pinwheel of self-degradation. This Don John knows himself, and hates himself for it.

Is this good acting, merely effective acting, or neither? No matter where you stand, I don’t think you can watch Reeves’ Don John and claim he doesn’t understand the character—his intelligence works its way through muscle and bone as well as heart and head. It’s performance as vibration. This might be the key to all that Reeves does an actor, including his magnificent gifts as an action star. Movement is acting, speaking is acting, listening is acting, just being is acting: Reeves reminds us of all that, often silently. There’s thought behind everything he does, and reading those waves of thought is part of the process of watching him.

We often talk of movie stars in the old-Hollywood studio-system sense, charismatic and distinctive personalities—like Cary Grant or Barbara Stanwyck or Bette Davis—who always look like some version of themselves but who create memorable characters by layering multiple, complex veils over their own particular mysterious essence. Maybe Reeves is one of the few modern-day actors whose style fits that model. He doesn’t work elaborate origami folds to transform himself into a character; instead, he beams radio signals from within. With a trim crewcut or a lanky shag, with a stubbly mug or a clean-shaven one, with a scowl or a slow-burning smile, he’s always starting from the base camp of Keanu.

None of this, though, answers the question of why Keanu, and why now? Other actors have passed through similar portals, seemingly expendable one minute and exalted the next. Before there was a Keanussance, there was a McConnaissance, the point at which Matthew McConaughey shifted from being an efficient actor in lame romantic comedies to being taken seriously in movies like Magic Mike and Dallas Buyers Club. The catchphrase became, “Wow, that guy can really act.”

But the recent blossoming of the Keanu orchid is different, maybe because, over the years, Reeves has proved that he doesn’t always need to be the center of attention. He launched a small art-book publishing house, X Artists’ Books, in 2018. He co-produced, and appeared in, the 2012 documentary Side By Side, an exploration of the differences between traditional photochemical filmmaking and digital processes. He has always been guarded about his private life, though we do know that in 1999 his then-partner, Jennifer Syme, gave birth to a daughter, who was stillborn. In 2001, after the couple had broken up, Syme died in a car accident.

We know this because it was reported at the time, and because it’s right there on Reeves’s IMDb page. But we don’t know about it because he’s talked about it a lot—he hasn’t. Reeves has erected some sturdy barriers against us, and yet somehow the membrane between his public life and what he truly thinks and feels seems fragile and permeable. What’s more, Reeves doesn’t seem to spend a lot of time on the Internet. Unlike most of us, he lives in the real world, and he makes it seem like a pretty good and grounded place to be. When People magazine, on the red carpet for the Toy Story 4 premiere, asked Reeves how he felt about the Internet-boyfriend stuff, he responded with a ripple of surprise: “I’ve been what?” When the interviewer elaborated, he smiled quietly, as if only to himself. “That’s wacky,” he said, clearly amused as he registered this new-to-him but not-to-us information, quickly adding, “But the positivity’s great.”

He also speaks candidly—on television, in the public eye—about things that would leave many of us speechless. In early June he appeared on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert to promote John Wick 3, answering the usual questions about what it’s like to fight while you’re on the back of a horse, and so forth. And then Colbert almost stopped time itself by asking a strange, potent question, as if knowing that if anyone might have the answer, it would be this radiantly centered person sitting just a few feet away: “What do you think happens when we die, Keanu Reeves?”

Colbert presented the question jauntily, as at least a half-joke, both courting and getting a laugh from the audience. That audience may or may not have known about the personal losses Reeves has suffered; they may or may not have known that Colbert lost his father and two of his brothers in a plane crash when he was 10. But what they know or don’t know matters so much less than the way Reeves responds, with composure and generosity and grace: “I know that the ones who love us will miss us.” Keanu Reeves is the man of the moment. Keanu Reeves is trending. Keanu Reeves is hotter than hot. But when our attention turns elsewhere, as it inevitably will, Reeves will still be out there surfing, not worrying whether we’re watching him or not. Because surfing, not trending, is the way to keep going.

#keanu reeves #keanu orchid #time

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taaroko · 7 years ago

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No One Goes After Her

So I finished The Punisher last week, and it didn’t even occur to me to ship Kastle in Daredevil S2 (somehow), but now I’m completely gone for these two. I’m rewatching all of Marvel Netflix pretty much just to remind myself of any details I might need for the post-Punisher Kastle fic I’m writing (because my memory is garbage), but in the meantime, “A Cold Day in Hell’s Kitchen” sparked an idea for a one-shot.

Frank showing up to shoot some ninjas at just the right moment always bugged me. He knew nothing about the Hand or Matt’s beef with them, and we got nothing to explain how he found out and ended up there. It mostly feels like giving Frank a cameo in his skull vest in the final fight was just an unsuccessful, slapdash attempt to fix the painful disjointedness the Punisher storyline and the Hand storyline suffer from for the entire season. But now that I am Kastle trash, I figured it out. Frank didn’t go there to save Matt. He went there to save Karen. Yes. Allow me to explain this theory with a fic.

Enjoy!

Frank had finally gone back to his house. It had lain empty since that day in April, mail piled in front of the door, toys not cleaned up, dishes on the table for a meal that was never eaten. Being there was a much different kind of grief than gunning down the men responsible. The house might have an abandoned feeling to it, but it was full of the echoes of everything good in his life. All the happy memories that he couldn’t think about anymore without coming back to the carousel. But he made himself think about them, at least while he was there. Maria, Frank Jr., and Lisa.

His work wasn’t done. Schoonover was dead, but there were other members of the Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the cartel still breathing. He would find them, down to the very last man, and put them down with the Blacksmith’s own arsenal. And they were gonna know it was him. That’s what the skull vest was for.

He had one stop to make before he resumed his mission. Some piece of him had died when Karen Page had shouted that he was dead to her. She’d been the only person since the shootout to give a damn about what happened to his family besides him, and that piece of him had wanted to hold on to that. But she’d already nearly been killed twice for getting too close to him, for caring and refusing to back down until she had the truth. This way was better.

But he couldn’t bring himself to start hunting down those shitbags until he made sure she was doing okay. So he went to her apartment. He didn’t plan to get close enough to find out whether she’d stick that .380 in his face again, but that was before he saw the broken boards at her fire escape window. Fear shot through him, then almost immediately sparked into white-hot rage. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. He was up the fire escape and jumping inside in seconds, gun out. He stared frantically around, checked the kitchen and the bathroom, but the place was empty.

Frank slowed down a fraction, taking in the details. The walls that had been shredded by bullets weeks ago were spackled over but not repainted, but there were two fresh slashes through one corner. Looked like they’d been made by swords. He was not remotely comforted by the thought that this threat apparently had nothing to do with him. He should’ve realized that a woman who could get right in the face of the goddamn Punisher and shove a photo she’d stolen from his house under his nose was perfectly capable of pissing off other very dangerous people.

Not descending into a blind panic was difficult. He had no leads except that whoever took her this time used swords, and it wasn’t like he could ask her neighbors. One look at Frank Castle, the man they probably thought was responsible for all the bullets in their walls, and they’d start screaming and calling cops.

He went back to the hole-in-the-wall apartment he’d been using as his base of operations and started flipping through the channels on the police scanner. House arrest violation. Drug bust. Hit and run. Bodega holdup. Bar fight. Frank was about to chuck the scanner at the wall and start running up and down the streets until he found her when, “10-13, officer down! 36th and 7th! They stuck him with a goddamn arrow!” Then there was a thwack and a grunt of pain from the terrified officer, and dispatch sent out the call for backup.

Didn’t seem likely there were multiple groups going medieval on New York at the same time, so these assholes were probably the right ones. They were gonna regret using swords and bows. Frank threw on the skull vest, grabbed the Barrett MRAD, double-checked the cartridge on the Para 1911 on his hip, and stashed his KA-BAR down his boot. He’d have preferred taking more weapons, but he had no idea how long it had been since they grabbed Karen, and he wasn’t wasting another second on prep time.

By the time he arrived at 36th and 7th, there was a whole fleet of police cars parked outside of one of the buildings, and they had its exterior lit up like Christmas. Nobody was looking towards the shadows across the street, so he was able to get pretty close. It wasn’t just police standing there; there were also a bunch of terrified civilians. He spotted a patch of strawberry blonde in the mix and his breath caught. The head turned and he saw her face. It was Karen. She was safe. Didn’t even look hurt.

The fear drained out of him, but not the rage. He turned his gaze on the building the cops were focused on. There weren’t any dead guys with swords or bows that he could see, but he was going to fix that. Just because Karen wasn’t in danger anymore didn’t mean they weren’t gonna pay for what they did. He went into the empty building across the street from where the action was going down and got up to the roof as quickly as he could.

From there, he had a clear view of some crazy-ass shit. Ninjas. A whole pack of ninjas, more of them dead or groaning on the ground than not, and Red was there, cradling a dying woman in his arms in front of the four guys still standing. His helmet had gotten knocked off, and Frank let out a snort of humorless laughter at the sight of Matthew Murdock’s face. He’d suspected the blind lawyer was Red from the moment he woke up to the familiar voice in the hospital, and that bullshit speech he spouted off in the courtroom about how the city needed heroes had clinched it. He’d wondered before if Karen knew, but considering the way Murdock was holding this other woman right now, he doubted it. Maybe this was Murdock’s one bad day, then, and he was finally done with half-measures. Frank found himself regretting that. He wouldn’t wish his own existence on anyone.

The guy closest to Murdock and the dead woman got back to his feet. Unlike everyone else up there, he wore a long coat, and he was holding a dripping sai. He was the one who’d killed her, then. Probably the boss. He stalked over to the four standing ninjas, who started to close in on Murdock. Frank bared his teeth in a smile and took aim with the Barrett. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, he just knew that Murdock was gonna get his shot at the man who killed the woman he loved, and he was gonna give it to him.

The people on the street screamed at the sounds of gunfire, and the four ninjas dropped within seconds. Frank nodded in satisfaction. Murdock went after the guy in the coat and laid into him. Frank didn’t know how their fight had gone before he showed up, but Murdock had him on the ropes now. He beat him all the way back to the far side of the roof, picked up his billy club (must be a new one, ‘cause the one he’d used on Frank sure couldn’t do what this one was doing), and sent him flying over the edge for a six-story drop.

Frank looked down at the street. The only person who wasn’t on the ground with their hands over their heads was Karen Page. She stood tall, and she was looking straight at him. He almost thought he saw her smile, but he must be imagining it. No way she sent that smile his way again. He looked back at Murdock. “See you around, Red.”

Ao3 link.

#kastle #frank x karen #daredevil #the punisher #using my ship to fill in plot holes #kastle fic

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wildlyhardphilosopher-blog · 5 years ago

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puppy training tips | how to train my puppy to come when called

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puppy training tips | how to train my puppy to come when called

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#potty training a dog in an apartment #puppy training videos online

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yellowspeed-gogo · 7 years ago

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Challenge - The Sorting Test - {01}

Personal Questions

1. What is your real, birth name? Any nicknames? When and where were you born?

Giovanna Tomago. Born in Daejeon, South Korea on February 23, 1994, but raised in Tokyo, Japan.

2. What is your Myers-Briggs Personality Type? (If you don’t know go here, this question is optional.)

INTJ - A “The Architect”

3. Do you have a nickname? What is it, and where did you get it?

There are two options. Gogo for close friends and Gio for everyone else, Giovanna is a mouthful no one should be tortured to say every time. I don’t really know if it counts as a nickname, but to cover myself incase of getting caught when out racing I go by Leiko Tanaka. So other fellow street racers know me by that name.

4. What do you look like? (Include height, weight, hair, eyes, skin, apparent age, and distinguishing features)

I’m short at just 5′4″, but I’m 128 pounds of compact muscle. My hair is black, but I’ve got a purple streak on the fringe. Eyes are a dark brown, often mistaken for black by others that don’t really pay attention to them. I think physically I look younger than I actually am, but if you interact with me you’d probably assume I’m older cause of my quiet nature. I’m a lot laid-back than I seem though, I just seem intimidating.

5. How do you dress most of the time? Do you wear any jewelry?

Uh, simple t-shirt with a leather jack thrown of top, some black jeans, shorts or leggings. Whatever I feel like wearing that day or find first, I don’t stress. I’m not the jewelry type, but I do have one of those fitness tracker watches. I like to know how many steps I’ve taken during the day, I always meet and surpass my daily goal.

6. What don’t you like about yourself? What kind of things embarrass you? Why?

My height. It’s an inconvenience because all standard cupboards are for people taller than me. Most of the time I have to jump onto the counter to reach things that others can easily grab. There isn’t much that embarrasses me apart from being wrong. It’s more of being on the spot though.

7. In your opinion, what is your best feature?

Physically or otherwise? Cause physically I’d say my hair, but like in a characteristic kind of way I’d say my drive.

8. Where do you live? Describe it: Is it messy, neat, avant-garde, sparse, etc.?

In a minimalist looking apartment, but somehow it’s still constantly messy. There’s books everywhere, clothes, my small inventions and of course my tools. Those are the only things I never put away.

9. What is your most prized mundane possession? Why do you value it so much?

A keychain. It’s my lucky item. I had it on me when I won my first race and since then it hasn’t failed me.

10. What one word best describes you?

I’d say adrenaline junkie, but that’s two words so I guess I’ll go with daredevil.

Familial Questions

1. What is/was your family structure like? (i.e. are you adopted, how many siblings, pets, etc.)

Well it’s my dad, my mom and me. We used to have a cat, but he passed away three years ago, so no current pets.

2. Who was your father, and what was he like? Who was your mother, and what was she like? What was your parents marriage like? Were they married? Did they remain married?

Dae-hyun and Aiko Tomago are my parents. My father’s a marketing manager for Mitsubishi and my mother’s a psychiatrist. They’re both alright even though they don’t like my habits. Maybe if I didn’t sneak out almost every night before they wouldn’t have hated it as much, but they wouldn’t have accepted if I had actually asked them so... Yeah they’re still married.

4. What are/were your siblings names? What are/were they like? (If you have siblings)

N/A

5. What’s the worst thing one of your siblings ever did to you? What’s the worst thing you’ve done to one of your siblings? (If you have siblings)

N/A

6. When’s the last time you saw any member of your family? Where are they now?

I visited them during spring break, but I’m going to visit them again after the Cancun trip, so this answer is only temporary.

7. Who is your closest friend(s)? Describe them and how you relate to them.

Probably Jella, so far she’s the only one who puts up with my crazy driving. But we get along really well because she’s just as energetic as me. If I had to pick someone to go with me on my races it’d be her.

Childhood Questions

1. What is your first memory?

Running around the house trying to get away from my mom.

2. What was your favorite toy?

Scooter.

3. What was your favorite game?

Red light, green light.

4. Who was your best friend when you were growing up?

...Can’t remember the guy’s name, but it was some boy from grade school.

5. What is your fondest, childhood memory?

Getting my first bike- no, it was finally taking the training wheels off.

6. What is your worst childhood memory?

When my bike broke, I crashed into a tree and the front wheel bent pretty bad.

Adolescent Questions

1. It is common for one’s view of authority to develop in their adolescent years. What is your view of authority, and what event most affected it?

Most often than not I tend to break the rules, so that should tell you enough about what I think about authority.

3. What “clique” did/do you best fit in with? (Royals, Dark Royals, Wallflowers, Bookworms, Punks, Hipsters, Rejects, etc.)

Punks or Rejects probably, if I’m being honest.

3. What were/are your high school goals? What were/are your uni goals?

Get into college, simple. Now I want to create one of the fastest bikes out there and finish university at the top of my class, while keeping my undefeated title in street racing.

4. What is/was your favorite memory from adolescence? What is/was your worst memory from adolescence?

Buying my Yamaha bike. Loosing an industrial designing contest. I lost because I made a simple mistake in my calculations.

5. Do you own a car? Describe it. If not, describe your dream car.

Not a car, but I do have a bike, or should I say motorcycle. It’s a black and yellow Yahama R6, with some upgrades I’ve done myself, so it’s the fastest bike ever invented.

Occupational Questions

1. Do you have a job? What is it? Do you like it? If no job, where does your money come from?

Yeah I do, it’s not a long term thing, just while I’m going to school so I have an income for books and everyday necessities. I work at a nearby repair shop. I already had the skills for taking the cars and bikes apart and then putting them back together, so it’s not bad.

2. What is your boss or employer like? (Or publisher, or agent, or whatever.)

He’s alright, laid-back guy who let’s us listen to music while we work.

3. What are your co-workers like? Do you get along with them? Any in particular? Which ones don’t you get along with?

There are just like three other guys apart from me and we get along well. We have an understanding that only I work on my cars, but if they run into some trouble with theirs I’ll lend a hand.

4. What is something you had to learn that you hated?

Changing the oil of a car, it can get real messy if you don’t do it right.

5. Do you tend to save or spend your money? Why?

Money is money, but the economy runs on it and I don’t want to be broke just cause I couldn’t save, so I don’t spend it unless I really need whatever I’m buying. Of course there are exceptions, but it’s not often so it’s fine.

Likes & Dislikes Questions

1. What hobbies do you have?

Racing, reading, jamming to some music, finding new ways to upgrade my bike to make it faster.

2. What bands/artists do you like? What song is “your song?” Why?

CNBLUE, F.T. Island and Girls’ Generation... yeah I’m into K-pop. Louder by Neon Jungle cause it gets me pumped when driving.

3. When it comes to politics, do you care? If so, which way do you tend to vote? If not, why don’t you care?

Not really, everyone has their own agenda. The only good president we’ve had in a long ass time was Obama and he’s gone now.

4. What time of day is your favorite? What kind of weather is your favorite?

Night, it’s when the city looked the most alive back in Tokyo, with all its lights. I like it when it’s sunny, but not hot. I can’t stand the heat, at least not excessive heat.

5. What is your favorite food? What is your least favorite food?

Fish cakes are the bomb! And mochi would have to be my least favorite food. Oh and don’t get me started on mochi ice cream.

6. What is your favorite drink? (Coffee, Coke, Juice, Beer, Wine, etc.)

Monster

7. What’s your favorite animal? Why?

Cheetah

8. Do you have any pets? Do you want any pets? What kind?

I used to have a cat, but he passed away a few years ago and I haven’t had one since.

9. What do you find most relaxing? (Not as in stress relief, but as something that actually calms you down.)

Messing around on the computer, writing codes and stuff. I once even hacked into some company’s website and though it was super cool I get more of a rush racing.

10. What’s a pet peeve of yours?

People assuming they know more than me.

Sex & Intimacy Questions

1. Would you consider yourself straight, gay, bi, pan, or something else? Why?

Well I’m definitely not straight if that’s what you want to know. [Pansexual]

2. Who was the first person you had sex with? When did it happen? What was it like? How well did it go? (If your character is sexually active, if not, skip this question)

That is honestly none of your concern, but I’ll tell you it was with some guy I met my freshman year of uni.

3. Do you currently have a lover/crush? What is their name, and what is your relationship like? What are they like? Why are you attracted to them?

Nah

4. Describe the perfect romantic partner for you and describe your perfect date with them.

Someone I can be myself around, who isn’t intimidated and can see past my ‘cold’ exterior.

5. Do you ever want to get married and have children? When do you see this happening?

Sure.. but not any time soon.

6. What is more important – sex or intimacy? Why?

I guess intimacy cause there’s no actual importance to sex.

7. What was your most recent relationship like? Who was it with? (Does not need to be sexual, merely romantic.)

It was just a couple of dates with a girl I met after a race. She wanted me to give her some pointers at first and we kind of just hit it off. We ended on friendly terms, so it’s all good.

8. What’s the worst thing you’ve done to someone you loved?

Disrespected them in some way.

Drug & Alcohol Questions (if your character’s a drinker/does drugs, iif not, skip to numbers 5 & 6)

1. How old were you when you first got drunk? What was the experience like?

Probably 18 or 19, I was already in college that’s for sure. It was whatever, the usual.

2. Did anything good come out of it? Did anything bad come out of it?

Sure, I met some point, but that’s about it.

3. Do you drink on any kind of regular basis?

Nah, just at parties or whenever I decide to go to a bar, but I don’t actually have alcohol at my apartment.

4. What kind of alcohol do you prefer?

Any kind of beer really. I occasionally like wine though. Sometimes I drink it while studying just to relax, it actually helps.

5. Have you ever tried any other kind of “mood altering” substance? Which one(s)? What did you think of each?

6. What do you think of drugs and alcohol? Are there any people should not do? Why or why not?

Would it really matter what I say? They already exist and will continue to do so regardless of my reply and people will keep doing what they do, so there’s no point.

Thoughtful Questions

1.What about you is heroic?

I put my friends’ safety before mine. Don’t mess with them because you’ll be dealing with me. And that isn’t an empty threat.

2. What about you is social? What do you like about people?

I’m always open for meeting new people. Commitment. If you’re someone who does what they say, when they say they’re going to do it, then you and me are going to get along just great.

3. If a magical being, describe the color of what magic you use, is it of a light color, bold and bright, pastel and sparkly, etc.

N/A

4. Are you a better leader or follower? Why do you think that? If you think the whole leader-follower archetype is a crock of shit, say so, and explain why?

Leader, I’m able to find ways to control a situation even when the odds are against me, which makes me a favorable candidate for leadership.

#wdpachallenge #about #hc #challenge

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sukstuds06-blog · 4 years ago

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