sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

[MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

WHERE: 6I Village and Inn
WHEN: 27-31 July
OPEN TO: ALL - Mingle
NOTES: The Wendigo threatening the village will be killed mid 28 July, with a Blue Lily, per these threads. Plot details here. Note: The final fight is close enough to be seen from the upstairs inn windows.
WARNINGS: Wendigo attack mingle, please warn in comment headers if discussing violence, gore, or related trauma. Possible mentions of character death.

The urgent warnings come from villagers returning south from the lake: a creature twice the size of a man, antlered and voracious. Larger than any they've seen on the plains, stalking its way to the main village. Some might have their own names for this hunger in a skin of shadow; others might remember that it was the first to claim a life, in their village's short history.

Whatever context one has for it, best to secure all pets and loved ones before it arrives. With weapons and food stores at the inn, the call goes out to gather — And to bring back any tools, because there's no telling what doors and windows can do to stop such a creature.

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Danny disagreed with the remark that green scrubs were boring but that was a matter of pride and he was trying to keep his temper under control; for however long he could manage it.

"Ah, yeah, when I was nine. I tried to build a bird house but it hadn't gone so well." It hadn't been a very good bird house. "Probably not to hard though." With age comes wisdom, or so the saying went.

Yikes. Amazingly enough, he had dealt with more helpless cases. Frank stoops to pick up the nail he'd dropped and turns back to his task. Something prickles at him still just having his back to the man, but he thinks it's the old-fashioned kind of paranoia and not the super senses kind.

"Maybe you should just watch me a while." If the kid even really wants to learn. Despite his whole tough guy demeanor, he wouldn't mind the company.

Danny took a seat with his legs tucked formally beneath him. He had his fists pressed against his thighs and his back straight. It was a very formal way to sit that had been ingrained into him during his time with the monks of K'un-Lun. If Frank was willing to teach him then he'd be patient and learn.

Learning was something that Danny often took a little to seriously.

"I'll watch and perform whatever task you think is best." In this instance, Frank was the master.

Suddenly, he's back in Reims teaching kids how to fend for themselves. He's Mayor Hotdog instead of Frank Castle, the resident mope-about. Danny makes himself comfortable (well, sort of???) in the grass and Frank gets to work on his window, describing each step as he goes. The whole thing is very Sunday with Dad meets Karate Kid.

"I'm gonna expect you to be able to take point on the next one." Hope you're paying attention!!! No, he's actually worried Danny is paying too close attention, honestly. When's the last time he blinked?

He was likely focusing too hard but Danny had trained with the monks of K'un-Lun. When he wasn't training, sparring or fighting, he was carrying large jugs of water for several miles or receiving a painful punishment for failing. Training and learning was serious and it should be respected.

"I will." His voice was firm and decisive.

Danny watched the way that Frank held himself, the position of his hand on the hammer, the spacing of the nails, the force and the swing, he dissected everything and tried to understand it.

Frank finishes and glances to the next window. It's worse than the one he'd just done, but this guy seems serious. He hands him the hammer before pulling gloves out of his jacket pockets to go remove the broken glass before Danny gets started.

"Where were you before this?" he asks softly in that gruff way he has, leaning panes of glass against the siding as the other man gets up.

Danny took the hammer and waited for Frank to place the broken piece of glass off to the side. Moving it made sense, the broke glass wouldn't be useable in the widow though it made him wonder if it could be used for something else or if the widow would be completely boarded up and left that way.

"New York." He'd only just returned back to the city before arriving in this weird village. Danny reached for a nail and then held the hammer carefully in his palm. His form was good though he was a little sloppy since this was something that he'd never done before.

"Watch your thumb," he warns, the last thing he needs is to deal with Danny hurting himself on top of putting the Inn back together. New York. He almost hears it before the man says it, it had been such a common answer in Reims. And now here. He just points to himself and says, "Hell's Kitchen," as he stands. Here we go again.

His hand shifted and he made sure his thumb was out of the way. Danny had mastered dozens of weapons, he really didn't think he was going to hit his thumb or have trouble with the hammer but he took his teachers advice, trusting Frank implicitly.

"That's what some of the locals call the area." He looked back at Frank. "Though I've been told that there are a lot of different New York's. I don't know if it's the same." Danny had returned to New York from K'un-Lun only weeks ago, if someone didn't know Rand Enterprises or Claire than he had no way to confirm if it was the same place or now.

"Probably better not to know," he admits, swallowing as he separates the ruined glass from the salvageable. They would have to find more for the fourth pane, or board it up indeed. The thought makes him sad, suddenly. It had been naïve to think this place would be different. Safe. Like there's truly such a thing. "Where are you staying here?"

Danny pointed to the inn. "Here." He had heard the fight raging outside his window but he'd been trapped inside of the inn at the time. It pissed Danny off that he hadn't been able to go outside and help when they were under attack. Fighting was the only thing that Danny could do really well and it was while fighting that he was able to see things clearly.

"Why do you think it's better not know?"

He turned back to the window and began to work. He wouldn't have been able to construct anything new but watching Frank and knowing the end result of what he was trying to do made the repairs easier then they might have been otherwise.

He nods once, internalizing it. If he ever needs to check on Danny, he'll know where to start.

"While we're here it doesn't matter where we came from. Or who we were." That was the consensus the last place he'd been, anyway. "It only matters who we are and what we do here, don't you think?" He tries not to hitch anything to Danny's response as he looks up at the man, pleased with his progress after only having watched Frank once.

"It does matter."

Danny fished what he was doing before turning back towards Frank. "Who we are matters." He had been so many people over the course of his life. He was Danny Rand, he was dead, he was a boy who lost his parents, a foreign, the Ironfist but it always mattered.

"That's not what I meant," Frank insists, taking off his gloves to slip back into his pocket and drawing up to full height. "Here-" He leans over Danny's shoulder and gently presses on his arm to show him how to hit his target with more accuracy. "It goes faster that way. You waste less energy."

Danny moved easily at Frank's instruction and as he pulled away he'd see that Danny instantly adapted to the change and began to use the hammer with a little more precision and accuracy than before.

"What did you mean?" He asked as he reached for another nail. The repair was a little more extensive than the window that Frank had fixed but Danny was well on his way to repairing it.

Edited 2018-07-31 03:16 (UTC)

He's a good listener, and it says something that Frank isn't already frustrated enough to take the hammer from him and do it himself like he had time and time again in Reims.

"Do you think people can change?" he asks, strangely philosophical really, considering. Somehow he doesn't think Crouching Tiger Hidden Rich Boy will mind too much. "I was in a place like this before. And everyone decided, for their own goddamn sanity, that it was better to judge people on what they did there instead of at home."

Frank steps back even further and crosses his arms over his chest, the move pulling his jacket sleeves to reveal his communicator just like Danny's - but in teal. And around the other wrist is a slim, handwoven leather bracelet done up in Celtic knots that say the word for leader. He takes a deep, but near-silent, cleansing breath and tries not to think of Mike or the Monster Book, of the Mayoral election, Kilgrave nor the Sound Eaters. This place is its own kind of Hell, but at least the monsters here can be defeated. That has to be a step up, right?

Edited 2018-07-31 03:24 (UTC)

This wasn't the first time that Danny had been asked this question and while he had an answer, it felt like the boiled down version of his answer was both yes and no.

His wrist, shoulder and arm struck the nail head in three quick motions, sinking it into the wooden frame before he reached for another. "If someone wants to change, yes." His voice was calm, clear and confident as he spoke. "People limit what they can and can't do by telling themselves that they can't do something or being lost in their own hopelessness." Which was something that Danny often struggled with.

"But I don't think the past should be forgotten or dismissed. We learn from our failures and also the failures of others." It was only when they repeated the past that they truly failed.

Maybe that's what he was doing now? Repeating the past. Danny had left K'un-Lun in order to change things but also... it'd been so that a young man could see his home again. Fifteen years was a long time to be away from home.

"You have something in your past that you're not proud of." It wasn't a question and Danny wasn't really asking Frank to go into details about it. "Look, I won't judge." It wasn't like Danny was a saint. He spent most of his life learning to fight and to kill. "But I think that you can be whoever you want to be." He glanced back at Frank with a boyish smile. "I'm a fan of people not being an ass."

He struck another nail in and then looked back at his work. "How's that? I don't think this frame is going anywhere but right here?" He pointed at the upper left side of the widow frame. "It looks loose or... slanted?" Danny squinted to try and figure out what the fuck the window was doing.

He was pretty good with nailing but knowing where to nail and what to do to fix a specific type of repair was like a foreign language to him.

It made no sense.

The more Danny talks, the more he reminds Frank of Curtis. Maybe this kid is just wise beyond his years, but he really is onto something, and he hates that he knows the words have merit. He lets the words wash over him, at least in appearance, not wanting people to think he pays as much attention as he does only the first of many ways Frank tries to convince himself and others he's a dick. Danny also talks so much, which isn't even unexpected or negative necessarily. He surrounded himself with people like that once, and he wasn't exactly silent either, but Reims had changed him. It's harder than it should be to parse through the words and pluck out their meaning in a greater context.

Danny's wrong about his past though. Frank isn't ashamed of what he'd done or who he is. He carried out his mission, but then he'd become the Mayor of a silent movie town of mostly kids and maybe that didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was people he could help - people like Danny - trusting him to do so. He has to crack a smile at the quip, shaking his head as he uwraps himself from observer and into mentor seamlessly. "Yeah, me too," is all he says on the matter. He wouldn't judge Danny either, if the other man wanted to share with him, but in the meantime, he could help him straighten out a window frame. It's the least he could do for this place, these people. He can already hear the sharp pitch of Jessica Jones reaming him out as he leans forward to show Danny what to do.

"I'm gonna have to frame it back out, so look." He broke off more of the broken wood with his bare hand and cast it aside. "A good set of eyeballs is better than any level. You stand back, tell me which side's higher." He holds out his other hand for the hammer again so Danny can do what he's told.

Danny handed over the hammer and rose to his feet. Frank's instruction made perfect sense and it was likely easier to do with two people than it was for someone to do on their own. He stood about four yards away, with his eyes focused on the window.

"Huh. It's tilted to the left a little."

Maybe describing things was hard.

Frank nods and shifts things to the right. "There?" he asks, then adjusts as necessary until Danny says they're good. He doesn't check it himself, trusting the other man's word as he starts to hammer in the top of the frame the same way Danny had the bottom. When that's done he starts to shore up the internal frame, picking up what small pieces of wood he could repurpose from another pile and starting to make it look like a window again. "We make a good team, huh?"

Danny gave a few directions that sounded a little odd but he eventually got the hang of it and together they aligned the frame so that it was an even box around the window like the others. The glass was still a problem but everything else was looking pretty good.

"Looks like it."

He flashed Frank an eager excited smile. "I don't know a lot about this but if you ever need an extra pair of hands you can find me here." Usually chopping wood or gardening since those were easier tasks that always needed to be done.

Frank considers Danny a moment, wondering if he should tell him the truth. He seems earnest, not a threat. But he'd thought that about plenty of people before. Still, he decides to go out on a limb, even though he keeps falling, maybe that's his true fatal flaw.

"I used to run a place like this. If you need someone to show you the ropes, I'm in House 6." There's his offer back, and he will be seeking Danny out if he needs him in the future.

He nodded his head. "Yeah." He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, disrupting the messy blond curls. "My life has been all over the place but I'm not really used to this. Even the monks had someone else upkeep the house." Though he had had to carry his own water several miles in the morning for a bath.

"I'll make sure to stop by."

Eventually.

Monks. Frank shrugs. "I'll be there." You know, unless he's not. Leave a note or something. For once, he really isn't worried about it.

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[MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

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/end scene