entrancelogs | Killing you softly with, unfortunately, song

Entry tags:

Killing you softly with, unfortunately, song

Who: Frank Don't Even Talk To Him About This Afterwards Castle and OPEN
Where: What is this unicorn vomit, and then zombie serenading
When: Backdated to event because I will climb back on this RP horse gdit.
Rating: PG-13 for salty language
Summary: Frank continues to hate goddam everything.
The Story

Early Days
Frank is having precisely zero of this bullshit. He's a damn ground zero of reality intrusions, and he's just goddam peachy with that. Because he is 5000% done with this place trying to taunt him with his family's deaths. Beyond done. Hell, he's ready to punch these wanna be 80s music video Lisa Frank vomit rejects in the face even before shit starts turning bad.

In a way, it's a relief when shit starts showing up dark, because, you know that's fucking reality, at least. Or at least a reality he's more comfortable with.

Frank's likely to be found yelling at an innocent 'Elland' citizen, because all this perky color offends his sense of dignity and thus they need to be hurt, too.

Zombie Days
It's about goddam time. Frank's ready to do some killing. Well, he normally is ready to do some killing, but he's REALLY ready, this time.

He may be ready to do some damage, but he's also quicker on the uptake than before. It only takes about one mag of pistol ammo before he realizes that shooting these things in the head doesn't do shit. Except make a rainbow spray. Which is not the effect he's going for.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Goddammit, every zombie movie he's ever seen has been A LIE.

closed to Liv

Frank Castle does not need rescuing. Nope. He's perfectly fine, holed up in this shack, easily findable by the horde of zombies doing that burping gurling zombie noise shit outside. This is not fucking happening. This is how he's going to die. This is really how he's going to fucking die.

...of all the ways he'd figured death would get him, he did not see this coming.

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These are not the same kind of zombies Liv is. She moves differently and of course, the key thing is, she's perfectly human-like 99% of the time. But right now? Now she's in full zombie-mode and the noises outside shift from groaning and rasping breaths to decomposing bodies being ripped apart. It may not kill them, but it clears a path for her, and when she throws her body against the door to open it, her eyes are bloodshot, black veins crisscrossing her features. As soon as her eyes land on Frank, all of that fades, and she's back to Liv covered in blood and guts but not bitten, holding out a hand to him.

"Come on. There's a path out but only if we go now, nothing actually kills them except..." No time. "Just follow me, we'll get to the next safe spot."

She didn't even know it was him in the shack, she just heard a heartbeat and ran with it. Must be fate.

Of course they're not the same kind of zombies Liv is. She can have a goddam conversation. All these zombies say is grarrrgghghg and some burping sound.

He backpedals, fast, when the door bursts open, swinging a shotgun at the intruder. Yeah, he'd figured out already guns didn't kill these assholes, but, you know, habit.

He also has the habit of making sure of his target before shooting, so, "Liv, Jesus. I could have fucking killed you!" He'll thank her for the rescue later, when the adrenaline wears off. Though it would be just like this shit place to make him kill one of the few people he liked.

"I knew you wouldn't," she says, holding onto his hand as they take off. She's pretty incredible in action, tossing zombies around like they're nothing, but as they make a break for it there's a hoard of them and she stops abruptly, features changing back to normal once more.

"That's way too many. I can't tear us through that. I mean, I'm good, but I know my limits."

Yeah, he'd go with 'pretty incredible'. He might not say it but he's impressed. If that whole zombie thing was supposed to scare him, uh, it wasn't.

"Shit." She's right. Even the two of them. What is it about him that it seems every goddam rainbow zombie in the place seems fixated on getting him? He'd never been a popular guy before. He kinda wished he could go back to that.

"We need another plan."

"You're not gonna like the only way to actually kill them for good," she says before stopping and sort of standing in front of him, facing the oncoming group of the undead.

And then she starts to sing. The ballad of Katy Perry's 'Firework.' As she gets through the first verse, zombies start dropping, but clearly, they need more singing power, and she looks at Frank as she heads off into the chorus.

"Have you lost your damn mind?" Because now was not the time for some goddam karaoke. Maybe turning back from being a zombie had messed with her head.

But it was buying them time, at least. Maybe the zombies were just as surprised as he was. But hell, he'll take any advantage in a fight. "Just own the night like the Fourth of July..." Okay fuck, he can't actually do this and make eye contact.

"Just keep singing, trust me," she says, in a sing-song voice. And it's the two of them, belting it out while Liv is low key impressed that Frank knows all the words. She 100% has to do something with that later. But for now, they just have to survive and while she can't turn into more of a zombie if she gets bitten, he would die. So her goal is to not let that happen, reaching out to subtly take his hand as she begins to back up while they sing.

"You don't have to feel like a waste of space, you're original, cannot be replaced..."

She will do nothing with that information later because he will deny EVERYTHING.

That is, if there is a later. Which, if Katy Perry is going to get them there, fine.

Just once, though, he'd like an enemy he can actually kill. Like. Normally. Till then, though, "If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow"

Dear zombies: he's drawing the damn line at dancing.

With zombies dropping all around them, it doesn't take much more to get to the mansion, and Liv slams the door behind them, sinking against it and closing her eyes. "Don't think I can ever listen to Katy Perry the same way again."

"You better not mean I'm ruining it for you." Because, hey, he has an almost decent singing voice. When he's not in falsetto. "If anything, those assholes have ruined rainbows for me. Forever." Not that he was a big sunshine and rainbows fan to begin with, but now he's REALLY not.

"I didn't say that! I just meant, you know. Now I'm always gonna hear you singing it in my head. Not a bad thing."

A hilarious thing, honestly.

"We're safe. That's all that matters, Katy Perry or not. But if we have to sing again could I suggest an inspirational show tune? Maybe a Disney medley."

Kitty has no idea what to make of any of this. She's well aware she's in the midst of her first event. Natasha had mentioned the warning signs and then everything turning into rainbows so it wasn't exactly subtle. The part where it tried to tempt her by showing her the people she'd failed and lost like her parents and her students just made her mad. The zombies were almost a good peace offering. She could just lose herself in a fight, except for the part where they just keep being undead no matter how much she cuts off with a swipe of her claws.

She's a bit rainbow splattered and harried by the time she hears someone considerably more alive. She glances over before slashing at the closest zombie. It slows them down a little at least, but it will just wear her down if it keeps up like this. "No luck keeping them down?"

He takes a second to answer, to smash a zombie in the face with the butt of a rifle. It staggers back, at least, giving him some room to move.

"Like the rainbow shit isn't bad enough." Seriously, it's bad enough, all that rainbow stuff. "Like a bad acid trip or fucked up cartoon or something." Or all of the above.

"You having no luck either, huh?" Figures.

"Tell me about it." She stands where she is, letting a zombie lunge toward her and ultimately through her since she phases. She turns, delivering a sharp kick to his back, not that he'll stay down long.

"I locked a few in a room. That's about the best I've got."

"I've heard worse plans, at least." He tries to swing the butt of his gun at the zombie coming at her, because, fuck, man, manners.

And he know he doesn't hit the damn thing hard enough for it to do...that. Looks like it went right through her, or her through it. "...the fuck?"

"Surprise?" She appreciates he made an effort to help. That tells her something about him.

"I can be untouchable when I want to be. Powers. It's a thing."

He couldn't guess what she could figure out about him. He's a soldier. He kills bad guys. Or at least goddam well tries.

"It's not a thing for most people. Hell I know half a dozen guys who'd kill for that." Sign him up, too.

She's not ready to write a novel on him, but it's some measure of having her back at least. "Well, you can let them know killing me won't pass my power along to them."

He almost drops his guard for a second, staring at her, open-mouthed, before instinct kicks in just in time for him to elbow a zombie in the face, which crumbles like an egg.

"Who the fuck even thinks like that?" Seriously.

"I've met people who've thought worse things. And done worse things." She skewers a zombie with her claws which slows it down at least, but it isn't the killing blow it would be in a living person.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I might be the least fucked up person you've hung out with." Jesus. He hopes not.

"Eh. I met some children here. You're like top five."

More zombies are gathering so she wants to thin them out. She doesn't love her own plan, but the quick kill attempts aren't working.

"Hey, I'm going to do something upsetting." Apparently she wanted to give the Punisher a trigger warning for violence. Because right after that she grabs the zombie by the shoulders, careful to keep her arms unbitten, as she sinks it and herself into the ground and lets go when its teeth get close. The zombie doesn't die, but it can't free itself either as the top part of its body writhes in the ground. She steps back up to the surface.

"Still going to take that as a compliment." Because, yeah, he's pretty fucked up. The only good side is at least he knows it.

"Try me." Except for the whole killing people to get their abilities shit, he's pretty sure he's cornered the market on 'upsetting'.

He's still not sure he'd put the word 'upsetting' on it: in combat, you don't have time to get freaked out, especially if you see something useful that can get you out of the shit. "That's got to get tiring after a while." Good temporary fix, but he's not buying it as a solution.

It sickened her the first time she had to do something like that to survive. She was also pretty young at the time. It helps that these seem like made up zombie things and not people.

"Most things do." Her power doesn't wear her down much. Not like it can with Nightcrawler but it does add up little by little especially combined with conventional fighting and maneuvering. Training with Logan certainly taught her endurance, but it's definitely no solution.

"It could still bite your knees if you get close enough. It's going to ruin the property values too." Quips help.

"Kind of raises the question: you kill anyone to get like that?" It's maybe important to know who he's fighting alongside.

"Yeah, well, it can try and get a steel toed boot in its damn face." Half as response to her, half as threat to the zombie. "So I'm good at slowing them down, and you're good at going right through them. We ought to be able to do something with that."

She glances back at him as if that's an absurd question even though it's pretty fair given the conversation so far. "I was born with the X-gene. The power manifested at puberty along with zits and all the other fun stuff they make you awkwardly watch videos about in school."

But she nods at the idea. "Yeah, that works. Teamwork is better for something like this."

Hey, he doesn't have superpowers--how the hell is he supposed to know how they work? "Huh. So everyone in your school can just float through stuff or does like everyone get different shit?" He's not sure which would be worse. Nah, teenagers? Probably everyone being different.

"You get a chance to notice how good these assholes are at climbing?" Because a Plan might be Forming.

"Mutants get different powers, but there aren't many of us." She delivers a hard, high kick to an approaching zombie, sending it falling back for the moment.

"Haven't seen them climb yet. What'd you have in mind?"

Pepper is a little slower on the uptake when it comes to the zombies, mostly because she doesn't have a weapon, so her response to being chased down is to - well, run and hide. Stay away from them, rather than trying to actually take them down.

It's working out okay so far, but inevitably, she gets herself cornered.

So it's both a relief and a bit nerve-wracking when gunfire cuts through the approaching horde. It doesn't kill them, but it distracts them long enough for Pepper to slip around them.

"God... I am not cut out for this stuff," she mutters. Not that she hasn't been telling herself that for like eight years at this point.

Frank is fine with zombies--they're not people--less fine with the fact the damn things won't stay down for long. And he's not really a knight in shining armor type, but if there's someone out here who can, you know, make a goddam sentence, he's going to try to make sure that's a streak that continues.

He nods at her, cutting his way through the zombies toward her. "Yeah, well, welcome to Wonderland."

"This isn't the welcoming committee I would've asked for, that's for sure," Pepper says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Thank you for your help, Mister...?"

"Shit, it's your first time?" It could be worse--the time they made him relive his family's murder over and over again had been arguably worse. Still, anything could be fatal out here.

"Castle. Frank." With any chance, she, you know, isn't from his world or if she is, doesn't read the papers or watch the news or basically do anything that brings current events near her.

:"Probably safer places to be right now. Any ideas?"

She does follow the news, but mostly just the financial stuff and Avengers-related stuff these days, so the name doesn't ring a bell, not in any way that's important to her.

"Pepper Potts," she says, and he might equally recognize her name, given her connection to a certain genius billionaire. "And, I'm not sure. Somewhere quiet, probably - sheltered but not somewhere we can be cornered easily?"

She may not be a fighter but she's not stupid, either.

Yeah, Frank's already gotten yelled at for the fact he's spent fifteen years in various warzones, each crappier than the last, so his grasp of any sort of US current events that don't involve what to blow up next is notoriously weak.

"I'd say it's nice to meet you but..." But just look at this place. And him, covered in rainbow, uh, zombie goo.

"What we need is one of those old basements. You know. The kind with the outside door. Get 'em to follow us through a narrow door, then bolt out the other side." It's not a great plan, but he's not great at bad guys he can't fucking kill.

Ah well, they'll just have to continue on in mutual ignorance of each other for the time being. Probably for the best.

"Somehow I don't think this place is going to be that obvious about it," Pepper says with a sigh. "But it can't hurt to look? At least if we stay on the move we can possibly avoid more of them."

Yeah, Frank isn't exactly going to complain about having someone NOT thinking of him as a mass murderer.

"You're catching on pretty quick." Way faster than he did. He nods at her plan. "You got a weapon?"

Pepper is one smart cookie. She learned how to think on her feet a long time ago.

"Unfortunately, not," she admits. "I can't find a baseball bat or anything."

And she's not a gun person.

"My old lady used to carry enough shit in her purse to count as a weapon." Just saying. Of course, he knew it was mostly all the kinds of 'shit' she'd carry for the kids: crayons and chapstick and coloring books and storybooks and spare socks. Still, if she were here, she could brain a few of these goddam things.

"Just stay behind me. And pick a direction." Because any place is going to be better than staying here.

Pepper has to smile somewhat ruefully at that statement. "Back home, my purse might've been a contender."

She doesn't have as much stuff here - not yet, anyway.

"Uh, how about north, for starters." She points - in what she feels like is probably north. Right? Right. It looks clear of zombies, at least for the moment.

"Thank you," she adds. Pepper's been around long enough to know it's a pretty rare breed of person who is willing to stick their neck out for a stranger.

"I always thought that was the point of purses." Men carry guns, women carry handbags. Makes sense to him.

He makes a rueful face. "Don't waste your time trying to figure out cardinal directions. I've tried. They keep moving around here." Still, the herd seems thinner there. "And don't thank me till we both get the fuck out of here in one piece." That's the goal.

"There are lots of reasons for purses," Pepper says lightly. Weaponizing them is certainly one! Purses are very utilitarian.

She follows close at his heels, grimacing a little. "The effort is appreciated, all the same. Do you have a lot of zombies in your world, or is this just a Wonderland thing?"

"Yeah, but, I mean, the whole design sucks. You got shit to carry, put it in a rucksack. Or cargo pants. And don't charge $500 for it." He's seen those Michael Kores or whatever handbags. Hell. No.

"No. Weirdest shit I ever faced was ninjas." Which to him had been pretty weird. "Apparently I missed the goddam aliens."

"Fashion doesn't always make sense like that," Pepper concedes. She will not be telling Frank that most of her purses back home cost way more than $500.

"The Battle of New York?" she asks, wondering if he's talking about the same aliens. "Or the Incident? Nobody seems able to decide on a name for it."

"I wouldn't know. Then again, there's a lot of shit back home I don't know. Like anything named Kardashian." Honestly, about the Kardashians, he's happy in his ignorance.

"Yeah, the New York thing. I don't know. I was in some busted down building in the desert when it happened. Thought my kids were making it up when they told me." And until he got here and got set straight about it. Goddam aliens. Seriously.

"I would've had a hard time believing it, too, if I hadn't seen it on TV myself," Pepper admits. "I'd been right there, only three days before it happened. Tony almost died. Other people did die."

It's still hard to believe, even here, even dodging zombies.

"Yeah, kinda makes what I do seem a hell of a lot less important." He's..not sure how he feels about that, honestly. "Every man wants to think he's a hero. At least to someone." And he'd failed at that.

"Well, you're a hero to me, right now," Pepper points out. "Not everyone has to save the world. Or maybe a better way to put it is that there are a lot of ways to save the world. Maybe not all of them are as straightforward and obvious as stopping alien invasions."

"Hold that thought till we get out of this in one piece." IF, he should say. The zombie crowd seems to be thinning, at any rate, but Frank looks a bit worse for the wear for it. Rainbow coating is not a good look on him.

"Not sure I was saving much of anything except the asses of the guys next to me at this point." Which, at least he's good at.

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Killing you softly with, unfortunately, song

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Zombie Days!

Zombie Days hurray!

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zombies! let's do thiiiiiis

*fistpump*

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fistpump