( OPEN ) gotta get back gotta get free.

[oorah]

WHO: Mayor McChilicheesedog
WHERE: House 6, House 60, and beyond
WHEN: October 15-November 5
OPEN TO: OTA (closed prompts in comments)
WARNINGS: animagus times, general obliviousness, dust moths, tba

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OPEN TO ALL.

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After cooking for the Stark Expo, Frank had bailed pretty quickly thereafter, not wanting to stick around for the thank-yous and/or any derisive comments. He also really hadn't felt as though he had much to contribute to a "tech conference" even with no tech to be found. At first, he considers going to find that book Mark started with all the skills and scratching his name off every page, but he finds himself heading to the Lake instead.

Before he knows it, he's heading down to the Bunker and straight for that powers vending machine. He studies the choices for a long time, remembering his conversation with Kamala and wondering if this all isn't an elaborate trap. Maybe it does nothing? Just another way to mess with their minds. He's heard whisperings of people hearing one another's thoughts recently and decides he needs to pick something tangible. Something he can prove definitively worked or didn't work. His finger hovers over Animal Transformation, but then he swallows, steeling himself. To Hell with it, right?

It isn't Frank Castle who runs out of the bunker and back onto the surface, but a coyote. He will be easily spotted loitering outside House 6 like he's trying to figure out how to work a doorknob in this state. When he gives up, he goes to lay down in the backyard, like he's watching over the animals in the pen. The groffle and zalpaca graze on as if oblivious to a predator nearby. Perhaps because they sense it's not really a creature who intends them any harm. After a time, Frank nods off in that state and a croc-dog finds him, curling up under his chin to join in the nap.

Over the next week or two, people might spot the coyote who comes in close to the Villages, most often he'll be outside the Schoolhouse or the Inn but never does he try to venture inside or close enough to be caught. If someone catches his eyes, he'll run off towards the forest.

WILDCARD.

---

[ closed threads posted in the comments. if you would like a personalized starter please comment here or pm me! ]

Comments

OCTOBER 16: KAMALA & BRUCE

[oorah]

There's a light knock at the door and it startles him, trying to remember if anyone had ever knocked at the door. Never, not that he remembers anyway. He puts a finger to his lips to signal to Kamala to stay silent, not that either of them need instruction on that. Aretha the bloodhound and Aloe the pitbull don't get the memo however, barking and braying their fool heads off at the sound. Frank ignores them and goes to the window, stooping to get a hold on the knife at his ankle and peeking around the corner of the window frame to try and get a look at who it is. Bruce? Just like that, his guard goes down and he opens the door forcefully. He takes a moment to sign Safe to Kam as the dogs pour into the doorway to greet Bruce upon recognizing him, tails going a mile a minute. He turns back to his visitor and stalls out a moment, honestly not sure what to do. Oh yeah, invite him in??? That's probably the right step. "Uh, hey. Hey, man." It's lame, but he's gesturing for Bruce to walk by him and into the house. It's small, but clean and well-kept. The walls have been painted bright and inviting colors and every room is lighted with electricity instead of candles or oil lamps like every other house, though there are emergency lamps lined up on the mantle. A little croc-dog wanders by and Frank scoops it up into his arms to get it out from underfoot, holding it under his arm like a chihuahua as he shuts the door behind the other man.

[morphogenia]

Kamala is jotting down some notes for her next story when the knock startles her too. No one knocks at their door. Frank's paranoid response immediately engages the old defenses that never truly went away. She goes still on the couch, pen in hand, and waits for her roommate's verdict while making a mental note on every possible exit to take while Frank engages. No one ever really knows what could happen here. Both of them have enemies back home who could easily show up and think knocking would do anything, but amp up their fight or flight response.

Once Frank gives the signal, she relaxes immediately. When she sees their guest she lights up as quickly as the dogs did. "Dr. Banner! Hi!" Kamala waves cheerfully at him, already moving to set her notebook down. "I'll go make coffee and popcorn."

[notsoangry]

Bruce has yet to get comfortable with 'dropping by' anywhere. He started to get better at it when he lived in the tower, because typically someone he knew was somewhere, and Jarvis would tell him where, and it seemed permissible. It was a common living space. He knew that Frank's invitation was sincere, and Kamala wouldn't mind, but he still felt that clench of anxiety before knocking. The barking did startle him at first, but it didn't sound angry once the door opened and they came out, so he let out a breath he was holding.

He's carrying a few things that he almost drops as soon as the dogs come out, but he manages to hook them carefully under his armpit and pet the dogs at the same time. Bruce has a deep love for animals of all kind; they were soothing and genuine. He had a dog, once, a stray that stayed with him in Brazil, but it had been a long time since then. He smiles and bobs his head at Frank as he steps inside, dark eyes curiously sweeping around the place. He can take in an enormous amount of detail behind those glasses in a very quick amount of time, and he finds that he really likes it there. It's very lived in. Bruce hasn't even attempted to make a room his room, he shares Tony's. Maybe they'd get to this level some time.

"Hi Frank. Hi Kamala. Thanks for letting me in, and for helping with the expo." Food is a good incentive and it might have gotten them some curious people who otherwise wouldn't have bothered. "So I got an interesting package. I didn't realize that the mail man gets out here. But someone must be reading my mind." It's all said with a mix of dry humor and wry acceptance, because they're all aware someone's watching them. "A big box full of notebooks, enough that we won't run out of space just yet while making new notes abut this place." Perfect timing, since he took a lot of notes during the expo.

He hands Frank two notebooks, one which is already filled with his very clear and crisp handwriting listing these details, and an empty one for Frank and Kamala to share as well. "That's a copy, I have mine. I'm working on getting the rest of everything we know copied too."

[oorah]

He nods about coffee, placing the croc-dog back on the ground so he can unburden Bruce some. He takes the first notebook and starts flipping through it, eyes widening as he realizes what this is. It's just like the notes he wrote in Reims for everyone and he knows firsthand how big of an undertaking this is. Not only did Bruce listen to him, he took it upon himself to really help. It means a lot to him and suddenly he's strangely overcome with emotion, eyes filling with water as he takes the second notebook and gestures for Bruce to sit anywhere in the space. There's a lynx cat sleeping on the back of the couch, a wingback chair on either side of that and a low coffee table between all three that Aretha is somehow already laying under with her eyes closed. "Oh, yeah. Anytime. We like to cook," he reminds Bruce, throwing the empty book down, but keeping the full notebook in his hands so he can continue looking over it as he settles into one side of the couch. After he's read it all, he throws it down on top of the other with a light slap. "Thanks. Let me know if you need help with that." After he said he wouldn't help, okay okay, but this is different. Bruce showed a good faith effort first. He never expected Frank to do it all. That goes a long way within these walls. The second he sits down, the croc-dog pads back over and hops onto the man's lap, draping his little body over one of Frank's massive legs.

[morphogenia]

"You're welcome!" She responds before taking off. Kamala works on getting things for their guest despite wanting nothing more than to peek at stuff. Like most kids she whined back home when her mother begged for this kind of help. She readily gives it to Frank who never even asks. It is a pretty quick job since if there's one thing these two are good at it's eating popcorn and drinking coffee. She listens in while filling the latest batch in a bowl and fixing two black coffees while adding milk to hers.

She smiles as she comes out first with the two black coffees because honestly? This is what she likes to hear. She knows Frank has been bummed out lately about how things have been going as a community. She's willing to bet that Bruce picked up on it too. While she will always admire Bruce for his accomplishments as a scientist and superhero, this moment where he made her friend happy really means a lot.

She sets one down in front of each man before going for her cup and the bowl which is left on the coffee table for everyone to reach. "Let me know if you want milk or something. You came with presents so you definitely earned our good stuff." She's going to lean on that being a no so she predictably takes the nearest spot on the couch that allows her to spy on what Frank is reading.

[notsoangry]

It sits in on him, how much like a home this is, and it would have to be now. Like Clint and his chickens were. People stayed in this place for years. Long enough to create spaces for themselves. He remembers his first conversation with Frank, right after he arrived, when he said even then he didn't think he wanted to go home. Nothing's changed about that, outside of his guilt thinking he had to, for Tony and for Steve and the others. What Kamala and Frank had right here, that's exactly what Bruce wants, even if it is in a weird situation like this. He has a low bar of expectancy for his life. Going home meant dealing with the apocalypse and the government probably finally getting their hands on him.

He found a seat and took the coffee from Kamala with a smile. "Thank you again, this is great." Bruce glances over to Frank and he doesn't bring attention to it, but he knows why the offer happened now, and that it's sincere. Once upon a time, he was detached and isolated, and someone else offered a tree branch that changed his life. He knows he's no Tony Stark, but he can at least try to be good to others.

"The needs and wants are important, and we'll get to them, but the questions and suggestions are where I'm personally focused on at the moment. Because while I'm interested in finding out more biologically how things are happening to us, I think making certain every person, house, living being, in this area can be ready for the winter and how we bolster defenses. I'd like to make sure every person here knows emergency first aid in case they're stranded." Bruce sighs and runs fingers through his short hair. "I don't even know if we have an exact headcount of every person who lives here. I know we show up and leave randomly, but we should still know a population count."

Bruce glances at the other two. "I know this is all stuff you're well aware of, clearly you're prepared and know what you're doing. But you said it yourself, there's been a lack of communication, and there's been a serious disconnect going on. There's new people here, myself included, who haven't been a part of any of that, who don't have any history here, and are coming in blind. And sooner or later, that could get someone killed." He doesn't usually talk this long without stammering or being anxious, but he's comfortable there, go figure. "I'm not asking anyone to be in charge, no one has to be in charge, we just have to live together or we're going to die alone."

[oorah]

"Thanks, sweetheart," he murmurs gruffly with a wink as she sits down next to him and croc-dog. The cat stretches out on her shoulder and continues feigning sleep. Frank picks up his coffee and hands Kamala the notebook so he can turn towards Bruce while he talks. All of it is true, of course, if not paraphrases of what Frank himself had said time and time again. It's still something like surreal that anyone is listening to the words he says. For a while, he'd started to assume he was speaking a completely different dialect or like he shouldn't have even started speaking aloud to these people in the first place. "Last time I counted... around sixty or so." Oh yeah, he pretends he doesn't notice. The comings and goings, but he knows every single face in this godforsaken place. "And we'll make sure they're ready for Winter." He takes a long sip without waiting for it to cool down and levels Bruce with a sober look as he lowers it. He's been preparing for Winter since the moment he arrived, he's not about to let anyone freeze or starve no matter how big he talks about running away.

[morphogenia]

Kamala nudges her head against the cat affectionately before leaving it to paw at her hair between attempts at sleeping. She scans the notebook handed to her as she listens. In a lot of ways Bruce is preaching to the choir here. The two of them know how to survive in situations where they really had no business making it to see the next day. It is still good to hear all the same. Kamala finds herself paying more attention to him than what she should be reading. There will be time for that later. They have electricity now. She rather listen to what Bruce and Frank have to say which involves her nodding a lot.

"Yeah, Frank notices everything so it shouldn't be too hard to know the final count when it starts to get super cold and snowy." She points out frankly. There's no point in pretending they can't rely on his hypervigilance for that much. The man is nothing if not consistent in her book. "I can always text a psa or something because you're right, Dr. Banner." She toys with her front bangs which are pretty much grown out at this point. One problem at a time. "As we are now? Someone would definitely die... or get really dramatically rescued." She glances at Frank because again she's not even going to pretend he's not prepared for that possibility. He's like hobo Batman. He can also can't have saving everyone be totally on him as she pointed out before.

Kamala leans forward to take a giant sip of her coffee to get her brain going. "I guess the big thing is looping everyone else in. I know we come and go randomly, but we should really start seeing who wants to do what during crunch time." She glances down at the notebook thoughtfully. "We should probably write down all our resources too come to think of it. I mean I know there must be a list somewhere of how much garlic we have, but we should probably have more than one of those."

[notsoangry]

"I don't doubt you can help people be ready for winter, Frank, but it should be a group effort. Who knows if one of our most hyper-competent people might disappear and all the skills and knowledge with them?" It isn't really aimed at Frank, that comment. Bruce sighs. "Clint ... well. You know that he's gone." Bruce only saw him briefly, and that was after years apart, but it still felt like a loss for him. For someone who didn't have a lot of people who actually looked happy to see him, he took those things to hart. "I know there's a system here that I'm new to, that you've all done this before, and that's why I'm here. You two are experts, and I've always preferred learning from those." He smiles faintly.

Bruce nods at Kamala. "I think a list of some kind is a good idea. A phone tree, so to speak, of what people will do in an emergency. We might want people to be more constantly on fountain duty, I wouldn't mind volunteering for that. When it's winter, coming out of the fountain is going to be rough." He'll need to think about hypothermia and preparations for that. "I suspect you do patrols, Frank, but having a buddy system in case of emergency is wise. I'm ...." Bruce shrugs and waves his hand at the notebook. "This is what I'm good at. Research, theories. But people are ... are really not my strong suit."

He's doing okay with them, so far, but it's not his comfort zone. "Considering that, would it make sense to have, I guess teams is too big a word for it, but groups that lean toward specific strengths. The fighters and survivalists focus on defense and living conditions, the scientists focus on research and medical, and the natural friendly leaders like Kamala here as point people. Or am I putting us into boxes too much?" Bruce just assumes that Kamala knows that she is a natural leader; he knew it from the first time they spoke. She's definitely the outward facing best choice, if you ask him.

OCTOBER 31-NOVEMBER 1: JESSICA

[oorah]

It's early night or late evening on Halloween, depending on your perspective, when Frank makes his way to Jessica's house after quickly abandoning the masquerade party. He's all set with that Eyes Wide Shut shit, thank you very much. He did have enough time to steal a bottle of godawful moonshine. There's only one problem: no thumbs. That's why he tells himself he's going to see her, but obviously that isn't the whole story. It takes half the time to get to her house in the sticks and he isn't even breathing hard when he gets there. That could be because he's on four legs instead of two, though.

The too-purple flowers hit her stoop first, noticing moths gather by her porch light without thinking much of it. He knows bringing her flowers didn't go great before, but this time at least they're alive? Or they were just a second ago anyway. Next comes the real gift: alcohol made from the last of the peaches. He figured stealing it was more punk rock than the stuff he makes in his basement, honestly. His wine is also still mostly crap. Coyote paws scratch at her door and he lets out a little doggy-whine before sitting back on his haunches and waiting to see if she'll come to the door.

[underachievement]

The Harvest shindig reeked a little of Children of the Corn to her, peppered with the usual night-before-a-massacre energy of their inescapable circumstances. She doesn't know if she's that drunk, scoping it out on a walk and keeping a good 20 foot berth from the gathering's edge, or if she really did stop paying attention long enough for it to transform between glances. She cuts her stroll short and double backs immediately, repulsed by the gaudy ballgowns and tryhard Jerks du Soleil masks.

Once home, Jess fires up her woodburning stove and leaves the flame exposed to illuminate her living room. She lights two wicks protruding from sloppily shaped candles that sit on her windowsills. Wax trickles down to the scratched up wood, for Jess to scrape off later and re-use. The firelight pools in the one comfy corner of the room, blankets strewn over one half of the couch: back, seat and floor layered in careless abundance. She reads books there, since the library showed up.

She lives too far out for drunk stragglers to stumble past and Jess doesn't know whether or not she'll acknowledge a sober knock, though it's obvious she's home. When there comes a clawing, she can't help but assume a wendigo, though they haven't seen hide nor hair from them since the one that got Peeta. It couldn't possibly be one of Frank's strays unless Kamala herded it here. Her book is a dry one, offering the occasional chuckle by way of hilarious misinformation. With a cooking knife blunted from gouging out wax, Jess checks the door. She opens it a crack, knife behind her back, and doesn't know whether to open it further or tuck the weapon away when she realizes what she's looking at.

"What?" Jess asks sharply, like it can answer. Still uncertain she's looking at a coyote and not a jackal or a dirty, malnourished dog, she leers at the gifts on the porch behind it. The door opens several inches so she can scan around for anyone who might have dropped them off, with or without the mutt.

jess is the one getting dust mothed right? i ironically forgot.

[oorah]

Frank knew she was at home, of course, and at least he stuck around to see her this time instead of ding-dong-ditching, even if she has no idea it's him. Something he only realizes when she's looking around. Oh, right. He nudges the flowers towards her with his nose before slowly shedding coyote for man, though these days he's just as hairy. He runs a hand back through the slop on his head indicatively, managing to look a little sheepish as he picks the bottle up and hands it to her. "Sorry, I forgot I was still..." A coyote?? Yeah. Honestly, he had. "I had a feeling you were skipping the party too." And he thought they could skip it together.

and i never fully learned how they work but I just did and YES to your q, i checked chat history

[underachievement]

[ pretend i had a wicked description about how moths are all over her fuckin house ]

What in the love of fuuuuck. Jess's brain scrambles to comprehend what's happening, gets tired halfway through and gives up. Whatever's happening in front of her might as well happen, as long as it's not more masquerade bullshit. The form that looms into a man should surprise her but she can't muster it. He barely looks like a man, actually; she expects the show to keep going, the scruff framing his face to regress another inch or two, but he seems to have settled at mountain man (that's been trapped in the sewers for a month).

"Grab the booze," she sighs, carelessly scooping up the flowers. The door swings idly ajar, welcoming him in as she crosses to the kitchen table. The heap of plants if tossed into roughly the middle of it. There. Centrepiece.

yesss good u are hero

[oorah]

He probably should have warned her, but she's inviting him in so he can't be too broken up about it in the end, clutching the moonshine in his grip like it's something precious. If only because to her, he knows it is. Frank doesn't think anything of it (because he doesn't notice) when a moth chases him inside towards warmth and candlelight.

"I, uh. Sorta volunteered to be the guinea... coyote for that superpower vending machine." Whoops? He slides the bottle across the table so she can do the honors, and also decide if they're bothering with glasses, probably.

[underachievement]

She'd scoff and tell him "as far as you know" but Jess's recollection of the past few weeks is stuck in passivity and she's occupied with hosting her favorite guest: Booze. Jess is more acutely aware of the moth problem in her house, but equally concerned. They're drawn to light, she doesn't have electricity, thus she expects they will take care of themselves in the flames.

"Weird pick." Animal and power. Jess is familiar with the list, having chosen strength from it to test its working on herself.

Of the three glasses (and two mugs) in her cupboard, Jess grabs the shorter pair and brings them to the table. His is poured and prodded towards him, then she fills hers to another half a finger. "I would've gone with a bird."

[oorah]

As far as he knows, indeed, which he's used to being 'not much' in this place. He accepts his drink with a little nod and shrugs his free shoulder as he waits for her to pick hers up. Then he raises it to her in a mock-salute.

"It seemed like one of the harmless ones. More obvious if it's working, too." He takes a sip, closing his eyes for half a second. You can't exactly 'savor' the physical equivalent of drinking rocket fuel, but he doesn't hate it all the same. "And I didn't get to pick the animal."

[underachievement]

"Well that's a cry for help if I've ever heard one," she remarks glibly after meeting the tip of his glass with one of her own. There are riskier roulettes to play but he's got responsibilities, or a responsibility, whose name she can't recall and on whose behalf she's not nearly as affronted as she normally would be. "Or yip," she goes on noncommittally, gesticulating with her glass as she sits. "Whatever 'coyotes' do."

Has she ever had cause to say that word out loud? Nope so hopefully he pronounced it right, 'cause that's the cue she's following. With intimated but invisible air quotes even though she has no reason to doubt him.

[ataashihunter]

Bull is out walking when he spots the coyote running through the village and he tenses when he realizes it is going for the house with the animals. They don't have a lot of food for the winter to begin with and losing the few animals they do have would be bad. So he follows, planning on chasing the creature away but pauses when he sees it rest and the other animals not caring.

"The fuck?"

[oorah]

The coyote cracks an eye open at the question, lolling its head back in the grass like a lazy dog. Who are you to judge me, horn-guy??? It's comforting for Frank, knowing he can just run if he wants to. For the first time since he came to this place, he doesn't feel trapped.

[ataashihunter]

Bull frowns, leaning on the fence watching the whole scene carefully. It is peaceful in a way. He gives it another couple of minutes before he comes closer, sitting down within reach of the coyote. After another couple of minutes, if the coyote stays calm, he reaches out to pet it.

"You're not going after our animals, are you?"

[oorah]

His ears go back but he doesn't make to move, instead closing his eyes at the gentle pet. It doesn't feel weird in this state to accept the gesture so he doesn't bother overthinking it, nor when he shakes his head instantaneously at the question. He would never hurt them, in this state or any other. He also doesn't think about how coyotes probably shouldn't understand English or how to respond.

[ataashihunter]

If he hadn't suspected that the coyote wasn't the real deal before the head shake certainly does it. "Are you one of the people here or something else?" He continues to pet the coyote, there is something very nice and calm about this. "Are you trapped? Do you need help?"

[oorah]

Frank just stares at him when the first question rolls in, yellow eyes boring right through him. Eventually, he pulls away from the petting like a fickle feline and lays down the other way. Instead of answering any of it, he just lets out a tired doggy groan. He's exhausted, fam, stop interrogating him. It's hard work to piece more than a few words together as it is with this coyote brain between his ears. He would really rather just be right now, if it's all the same to Bull.

[ataashihunter]

Bull takes the point pretty easily and shakes his head slightly at himself. He laughs a little when the coyote pulls away. "You're like a certain Tevinter mage I know..." But he is more than happy just to sit there in companionable silence for now.

[oorah]

Frank lays there for so long, he forgets about anything else. it's ridiculously peaceful, at least, for a time. but eventually, his nerves get the best of him. He should be doing something. Technically, he had been watching the animals, but that only works as an excuse for so long. He does actually have to do something with his day otherwise he's going to hate himself later. And that's how he ends up coming around, spidey senses flaring as he sits up from the canine sprawl he'd been in and pushes his long hair out of his eyes. Oh, there's someone here... "Hey," he manages lamely, clearing his throat a second later. He'd seen Bull around, of course, he was kind of hard to miss. But they'd never spoken that he could recall. There are words and sounds and different things he's trying to process all at once, like the coyote has given Frank all its memories to parse through upon waking. It's overwhelming and is giving him a pressure headache, honestly. But that's how he ends up asking, "What's a Tevinter mage?" ages too late.