terrorisms: (Default)
π‘π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘¦ ([personal profile] terrorisms) wrote in [community profile] diademlogs2026-04-10 08:17 pm
  • Add Memory
  • Share This Entry
Entry tags:

π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘›π‘œ π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€π‘  π‘šπ‘¦ π‘›π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’ ( closed )

Who: Frank Castle, Nashua Whelan, Furiosa, Clint Barton, Matt Murdock, Amy Bendix
Where: Panorama, The Fringes
When: Last Week of April
What: A catch-all for one specific incident - RIP Nash.

Warnings: Player Character Death.



π‘ β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘–π‘‘
"𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 π‘”π‘œ π‘‘π‘œ π΅π‘œπ‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘›, 𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘Ž 𝑛𝑒𝑀 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒
𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ 𝑖𝑑 π‘œπ‘£π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘›π‘œ π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€π‘  π‘šπ‘¦ π‘›π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’
𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑒𝑑 π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ πΆπ‘Žπ‘™π‘–π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘›π‘–π‘Ž, 𝐼'π‘š π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ
𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑒𝑑 π‘Ž π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑓𝑙𝑦 'π‘’π‘š π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘‘π‘œ π‘†π‘π‘Žπ‘–π‘›"
π‘‚β„Ž π‘¦π‘’π‘Žβ„Ž, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 π‘”π‘œ π‘‘π‘œ π΅π‘œπ‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘›, 𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ 𝐼 π‘€π‘Žπ‘  π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘
𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 π‘Ž 𝑛𝑒𝑀 π‘‘π‘œπ‘€π‘› π‘‘π‘œ π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘£π‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ π‘π‘’β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘‘
𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 π‘Ž π‘ π‘’π‘›π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘ π‘’, 𝐼'π‘š π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘Ž 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑑
𝐼 β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ 𝑖𝑑'𝑠 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘’π‘šπ‘šπ‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘ π‘›π‘œπ‘€ π‘€π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ 𝑏𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒.
Flat | Top-Level Comments Only
terrorisms: (pic#18050720)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-11 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)
( Wrong answer. His expression flattens out, irritated and unimpressed, and he steps back with every intention to slam the door shut again in Clint's face.

He's not acknowledging that relief. Not in the slightest. )
brandingproblem: (body like a whiplash)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2026-04-11 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[He could put himself in the doorway, except he is actually abundantly sure Frank would still slam it shut anyway. Medicine works miracles here; if a couple fingers or toes break, go to the fucking hospital, they'll kiss it better. He could push his way inside, chase after Frank.

But he doesn't see that ending well for either one of them. Not now. There's a time and a place, and this doesn't feel like it.

So let the door close if it's gonna. He'll stay right where he is. Or sneak his ass inside and unveil some flaw in security.]

I don't know what you said to Fury, but I don't get chased off if I don't want to get chased off.
terrorisms: (a-jbta268)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-11 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
( If he hadn't already shut the door in Clint's face, the mention of Fury might've had him slamming it anyway. Something inside him twists β€” maybe Clint can feel that, the sharp stab of an ache, the hollow pang of loss, the deep, bitter sense of resignation. The masochistic satisfaction that comes with hurting, because good, it should hurt, he deserves to hurt. It's like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into place. Something being where it belongs.

Silence, from the other side of the door. He doesn't have to tell Clint shit about what he said to her.

But you know what, if he sticks around much longer, maybe he'll find out. Frank'll tell him the same damn thing: it's done. )
brandingproblem: (from the state we're in)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2026-04-11 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[He does, in fact, stick around. Because Clint's stubborn. He will stay here for a good god damn while.

And when Frank tells him it's done, all Clint has in response is no it's not.

For a lot of the same reasons, probably. The enemy is still out there. They're still doing what they do. Sometimes more careful, but the attack also says they're willing to get bold. Hell, willing to sacrifice. But. Also because Frank is the best damn friend he's got in this place.

When he leaves, because he can't just stay outside and sleep at the door all pathetic, because he does have a home (no, a shitty motel room, nothing even remotely like home) to go back to, he promises he'll be back. It's a threat as much as a promise, really.

Which starts a habit of showing up every single day. If he doesn't show up, it's only because there's something physically keeping him away. He has to try. He has to keep trying. Frank doesn't scare him, and he sure as hell isn't going to let silence and brooding or barking and growling make him keep his distance. One of them has to still be alive or at least pretend about it. Clint will take on that responsibility.

Frank's out, one time, and if asked, Clint won't say whether he deliberately waited for the opportunity or if it was just happenstance. But one way or another, he gets inside. It's not easy, for sure, but it's hardly impenetrable.

If Frank finds Clint stocking up water bottles and a couple fresher items of food in the fridge, his face screams an exhausted YOU'RE WELCOME in spite of knowing he's not going to get any thanks for it.]
terrorisms: (z-JB_101)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-11 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
( When he comes back, it's covered in blood and with a gun in his hand. The only reason the safety's still on is because he caught a glimpse of Clint's car on his way in, otherwise it'd be guns god damn blazing the second he sensed somebody in his place.

The door slams behind him pissily. He makes for an unpleasant specter haunting the entrance, something that would probably look intimidating to anybody other than Clint. It's the exact opposite energy of a thank you, actually. Imagine that. Rather than gratitude spilling out of his lips, Clint just gets a demand. )

What the hell are you doing?

( Granted, he has eyes, he can plainly see Clint restocking his dangerously low food stores. What he means is, why are you doing that? What he means is, why are you here? and why do you keep coming back? )
brandingproblem: (we're all gonna die)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2026-04-11 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[None of the questions, spoken or implied, get answered. He doesn't think he needs to, because Frank's just going to barrel right past all of it and keep trying to lock him out.

So, eye contact fully maintained to show he is not cowed by any of this, Clint straightens up, shuts the fridge, and makes a beckoning motion.]

I'll grab a wash cloth or a towel or something. Let's get you cleaned up, and you can tell me what you're doing going hunting without me.
terrorisms: (a-JB_35)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-11 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
( There's a shitty little industrial sink with a square basin for a bowl by the fridge. One of those types of taps nobody's meant to drink out of in a million god damn years; the kind where when you first twist the knob, the water comes out rusty for a few seconds before it runs clear. That's where his eyes flit to when Clint says let's get you cleaned up. A couple of rags, blood stained but wrung-out and as clean as they're ever gonna get, hang off the side of the basin.

It's clear this isn't the first time he's come back here like this, and it won't be the last.

But he's not interested in the world's worst, shittiest, most feral repeat performance of a joint shower: pirate bath edition right now.

Exasperated, frustrated, annoyed, several other adjectives, he's projecting all of it at once when he shakes his head. )

Boy, you just can not take a god damn hint, can you? What do I need to do to get it through to you? This is not happening. Get out.
brandingproblem: (from the state we're in)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2026-04-11 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
I got the hint, I'm just choosing to ignore all the hints. Because there's no universe where this doesn't suck, but it sucks less together.

[So, that basin? Calmly going for it. He picks up one of the stained cloths and makes to turn the tap, and, yeah, this is why he brought bottled water. He figured the tap out here was going to be shit for the way it looked abandoned as hell even after Frank had turned it into a base of operations.]

You want me out? Take me out.
terrorisms: (frank-punisher-036)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-11 11:21 pm (UTC)(link)
( It sucks less together; a muscle in his jaw twitches. It had been easy to imagine that woman from the bar wrapping her arm around Fury's throat, easy to imagine a bullet going in one side of her head and out the other. It's harder to imagine someone pulling that off with Clint. Not because Fury isn't a badass too, she is, it's just that she also suffers from the unfortunate syndrome of being wife-coded to part of Frank's mind, and he's watched wife-coded women die in his dreams every single night for years.

Cutting ties with her felt necessary and justified. Can't drag a killer back to her if he doesn't go back to her at all anymore.

Clint isn't making it as easy. He's a god damn Avenger. He'd be throwing himself out here into the fringes with or without Frank.

If he can't fall back on keeping you safe as an excuse to pull away, he's forced to acknowledge the other reasons he has for shutting the man out. He's really not interested in indulging that kind of self-awareness and emotional intelligence right now, thank you very much, so-

You know what? Yeah, sure, let's unga bunga fight about it, that's way easier.

He snatches the wash cloth out of Clint's hands and throws it against the farthest wall without bothering to look and see where it lands. If that doesn't send a clear enough message, maybe the lifting of his chin and the squaring of his shoulders will.

It's a threat. Predator signalling.

Don't fucking test me, man, because I will throw your ass out of here myself in a heartbeat- )
brandingproblem: (I can't heal the way I feel about you)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2026-04-11 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ape man strong, powerful. Ook ook. He wants to do the big strongman predator intimidating thing? Fine, Clint will face that head on.

Frank being taller and broader is not an issue for Clint. He works with Captain god damn America and the god of fucking thunder. In a one on one fight, it's not clear who might win. Frank's got that dog in him, the absolute tenacity and ability to shake off injuries that would debilitate anyone else, and he's got the strength of someone who could be an Avenger even if it's not necessarily super. (The vest/suit/goop notwithstanding. Obviously. Different beast altogether.) Clint's got dexterity, agility, training with a Black Widow that helps out even if he doesn't always have the same kind of lithe flexibility as one.

Clint reaches for another rag without taking his eyes off Frank.]

You want me out, [a steady, slower repeat] take me out.

[Show me that you mean it.]
terrorisms: (z-JB_62)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-11 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
( Maybe that's really what it boils down to: they both know he's not whipping out the suit for this altercation. If he were really serious, if he were dead set on it, if he wanted to burn the bridge with everything in him, he'd suit up.

He doesn't. No black ink spreads, no super soldier bullshit symbiote strength kicks in.

But he does reach out to tangle a fist in Clint's shirt, deadass intent on manhandling him around like a bouncer evicting a drunk patron that got a little too rowdy at the club. He will drag your ass out the door, so help him- )
brandingproblem: (like a really nice guy)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2026-04-12 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
[Which means there's hope. It isn't so much that bringing the suit to bear would be the last straw--Frank gave Matt a good bash, after all--but it would shift things for them in a more dramatic way.

What it also means is that Clint doesn't take a swing or wrench Frank's wrist or do any fancy moves. He does not, in fact, fight the grip or the dragging or the manhandling save for an attempt to make his weight as dead as he can without becoming a limp fish.

But hey, if Frank's going to drag him the hell out, Clint will at least try to dab at his face with the new rag.]

I'll be back tomorrow.
terrorisms: (a-JB_129)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-12 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
( That attempt to wipe his face earns a half-scandalized jerk backward, his expression reading a wild, incredulous what the hellβ€” for a fleeting second, before it closes back off into pissy and unhappy again. Clint's thrust unceremoniously out the door and back onto the little metal landing, and Frank yanks his rag back out of the guy's hand. He needs that. For cleaning. )

Don't bother.

( He barks before, not for the first time, slamming the door in Clint's face.

Tomorrow isn't all that much different, and neither is the next day, nor the next. A lot of days are exactly the same, in fact, until one day Clint comes by but doesn't bother knocking. Frank sees him on the cameras, out there down on the ground by the support struts, digging like a lunatic.

He's content to ignore the guy for a while, but time keeps passing, and the guy keeps digging, and finally Frank's restraint breaks. He stomps outside and leans over the railing. )

What the hell are you doing now?
brandingproblem: (they're telling me I'm fine but)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2026-04-12 02:35 am (UTC)(link)
[It's not his smartest idea. But it's an idea nevertheless, and he's quickly running out of them. If he's honest, the concept of a garden has been banging around in the back of his mind ever since he and Frank hid out in a flower shop hiding from a fucking spotlight monster of flatten-you-dead and did some commiserating on their wives and flowers about it. He hadn't grabbed any seeds then.

But there are other places. Other zones that come and go. Places in the city where taking what you can get means it's a precious commodity to sell. There's even a whole trip out to the farm and back. (He misses at least one or two days, going out there.)

Turning the concept of a garden into the concept of a memorial garden, that's the part that is stupid, the not smart not thought-out part. But he'll do it. Because there's not a whole lot of green space in the city anyway, where the hell else is he going to plant them?

Frank won't appreciate it. He doesn't have to. Just...so long as he doesn't dig them back up. But at least Clint isn't sneaking in or pounding on the door. He's simply being a presence. A presence who has to do something with the emptiness and the grief and the guilt and the emptiness and the hate and the emptiness.

He glances up, briefly, wiping some sweat from his forehead.] It's a little late in the season, but springtime's still the best time to plant most everything. Gotta make sure the soil's good for it, though. Have to loosen it up, aerate it.
terrorisms: (z-JB_101)

[personal profile] terrorisms 2026-04-12 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
( Congratulations, Clint, you've finally done it. You've thrown him off so much, he briefly forgets to be pissed off and just goes straight to bewildered instead. )

What?

( First of all, city boy here has never planted anything a single god damn day in his entire fucking life, but second of all... the concept of any kind of growth here, any kind of garden, any kind of planting, is just so damn out of left field he can hardly even process it.

Clint's here... aerating soil? The closest he's ever come to that himself is lawn maintenance during his rare, scattered few months not actively deployed. The flowers were all Maria.

But β€” again, just.

What? )
Flat | Top-Level Comments Only