Frank Castle (just_is_revenge) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2012-07-14 18:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | z: om1: !closed, z: om1: location: new york, z: om1: past character: frank castle, z: om1: past character: peter parker |
You want to live the thug life
Characters: Frank Castle, a drug dealer and Spider-Man
Setting: An alleyway in New York City, evening
Content: Violence
Summary: Frank cleans up the streets of New York the best way he knows how
Frank was helping with the city's cleanup. Maybe not in the same way the capes were, clearing streets or healing the wounded, but Castle's work was equally important. He'd kept his nose clean through the sickness, making himself a home at the abandoned King's Park psychiatric center on Long Island. The place was ideal for its secluded location and underground tunnels that he'd come to know like the back of his hand. Situated near a forest and river, he'd been able fend for himself by hunting the natural wildlife that hadn't been affected by the undeadly virus. He hadn't needed to go into the city often except for an occasional supply run (Frank could give up anything but his Nacho Cheese Doritos).
Now that everyone was cured there was no reason to stay holed up any longer and he could return to his short term endeavors. Today, that included a visit with Mr. Samuel Clemens, a meth cooker in Brooklyn. With a lot of the population dead demand among users remaining was high and supply was low so Clemens had found himself a business opportunity and was making a killing. Now it was Castle's turn. Armed with a sword (he hadn't made an ammunition run in a few weeks) Castle spent his afternoon asking around until he found the guy who would get him the fix he needed. It had been six months since his last righteous kill and he was starting to get that itch. Let the government and the capes clear the table, Frank would take care of the rats.
Clemens had just finished a deal in an alleyway off Sunset Park when Frank caught up with him. He approached quietly, the sword partially hidden, strapped to his back. Clemens glanced his way, face pinched in the perpetual suspicion of the small time pusher. If he was armed, it was limited, it couldn't have been more than a pistol. Also, he was alone. Stupid. Good for Castle, but still stupid.
"Whatchu want, man?" Clemens asked, hand moving reflexively to the back of his pants where he kept his piece tucked into his waistband.
"You 'Mark Twain' the meth man?" Castle asked flatly.
The man looked confused for a second and then scowled, annoyed. Like he hadn't been hearing that tired joke his whole life and here it was he'd never even read Huckleberry Finn or Tom Sawyer. "What? You a cop?" he spat.
"Easy Pusher Jim, just here to buy," Frank replied, "Just need some stuff to deal with that little hiccup the city's been going through. The dead kind of make me a little squeamish."
"Yeah, well, you and everybody else, man. I'm out. Just sold my last. Sorry," he shrugged and Frank could tell by his uneasy glance that he was lying.
Frank took a few steps towards him and asked the question, "You cook it yourself, don't you?"
With nowhere else to go, Clemens took a few steps back and found himself against a brick wall and Castle kept on coming. "Yeah, man. But you run out, you know? And all I got left is mine."
"A good dealer doesn't use and sell. You're not a good dealer," Frank said matter-of-factly, only a foot away from the other man now, "You've never sold here before. This is my corner." Frank jerked his head back, closing the last of the gap between them, and banged his forehead against Clemens' in a headbutt. Samuel's head snapped back against the brick with a sickening crack. He crumbled to the alley floor and Frank stepped back, unstrapping his sword.
"I've heard you're not even from here, you're from Connecticut," he remarked, conversational, "A Connecticut Jackoff in King Castle's Court. I think we're gonna do some historical reenactment. How's your mythology? You're a meth cooker, Mr. Fucking Wizard, huh? Okay, Merlin, let's try a little sword in the stones." Frank raised the sword up high, it's end pointing at the dealer's family jewels. He grinned; this was the first smile Frank had worn in awhile.