UPGRADES

02.10.2016: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

warandpunishment:

“And, how are we going to get out of here?” Frank released a grunt at the man’s comment, his back was pressed against the cold wall of the cell, hands cuffed like Roger’s. He had been in prison more than he could think of. Unlike Rogers, who tried to break the shackles, Frank used his thumb against his own opposite wrist to open a recent cut. The thumb pushed out a piece of metal from the wound, and his fingers caught it. The hands were cuffed behind his back, so he had to use his experience to find the key hole for the shackles. The region was wet, blood was dripping on the ground because of the cut, but the scene was hidden behind him.

“I don’t have any ideas.” The enemy could have cameras and hearing devices around, so he had to sound convincing that he wasn’t getting rid of his shackles. A soft click, and he knew he was free, but he kept on his position as if he was still cuffed.

_{★—     CORRECT IN HIS ASSUMPTION —– Steve indeed hadn’t been arrested THAT often, but he had certainly been shackled. The only difference was that these were vibranium cuffs, clearly there was a learning curve that inspired this sort of innovation — along with stealing materials. —- KLAW must’ve been involved with beng their supplier, which didn’t fail to surprise him.}

        ❛ _{I need my shield, and you need your weapons — or we could at least make it to the security room, try and disable those cameras, but it’s a case of finding out where they are, which may be the more difficult part..}  ❜

_{Frank seemed to know his way out —which again, shouldn’t have shocked him either, but the way he did it — drops of crimson, the faint sound of each drop hitting the brick floor beneath them was something that drew his attention right away. RUTHLESS was the word.  A brow lifted when he heard the click, quickly turning his eyes toward the door.}

         ❛ _{We don’t know how many of them are out there either, being knocked out and dragged here – meant we didn’t get a chance to scope.}  ❜

warandpunishment:

Frank looked back at Rogers by the time he heard his voice. Then, he paused his steps, his attention now fully at the man. Yes, nobody would expect the Punisher to be concerned about something that wasn’t murdering criminals, not even Steve Rogers. But, as always, his actions wasn’t about appearances. He acted the way he thought it was right, not caring about what people would think.

“What else do you expect me to say?” It was a genuine question. Frank couldn’t simply see the unusual point of his own visit, why Rogers was asking that question. Didn’t he say enough? That he was worried about the man?

Frank approached Rogers again, having both hands into the pockets of his jeans. Whatever the man had to say to him, he would listen to it. Just that Frank was confused at his reaction, and he wanted answers.

_{★— RIDDLED WITH CONFUSION — Frank Castle had always been a MYSTERY. Perhaps because he wasn’t so used to, despite his time in the military, those hard edged people who would often hide their emotions, veiling their worries behind their WEAPONS and seemingly not coming to terms that expression of such emotion, was only natural.} 

_{Words were supposed to speak– to hold MEANING to them, but he was sure that Frank thought that actions spoke louder, and in most cases Steve would agree with that as a fact, but at this point — perhaps he needed MORE convincing. Besides, at that moment, he couldn’t quite gauge Frank — whether he was concerned or not or if he had just come to check up so that he would know that there wasn’t an obstruction should he be tackling enemies on Steve’s turf.} 

_{As the other approached, heavy clad-boots hitting each wooden floorboard with sheer PURPOSE, Steve glared upward, through long blond bangs that seemed to darken toward the roots– something that wasn’t much seen when he maintained shorter hair.} 

      ❛    _{Why bother making your way here? You ask what else there is to say, and if you came because you care, it ain’t SEEMIN’ like it, I know– Frank – I know you’re not someone who enjoys sitting down and talking but this seems more like a scoping mission than it does GENUINE CONCERN. So excuse me if I’m questioning your motives right now.}  ❜

warandpunishment:

Frank couldn’t really agree with Rogers’ statement for himself, but he knew there were soldiers who worked hard, especially when they had to work for a government full of liars and corrupt people. It was a hard job, especially when a soldier was aware of the corruption, and they still followed their superiors’ orders. An artist was free to do anything, more than a soldier. They might be beaten or killed for showing the truth of society, but they could actually open minds. A soldier, most of them, got killed for a selfish cause.

But Rogers was right about everyone doing the right thing. Not counting Frank himself, of course. He was aware he wasn’t doing the right thing for society, but he knew he was right for himself. That was how an artist did. That was how Rogers did, even though he was a soldier. He would fight the government for the right thing. That was all that mattered.

Frank fell silent suddenly, not commenting anything else. The conversation could be guided for something about his own morality, and he was tired of that. He just wanted to talk about poetry and art, and how beautiful they were. It had been a while since he did that.

Brushing his fingertips on the cover of his book, he opened it on the page he was reading, leaning his back against the wall. To him, the chat was over, and hopefully, Rogers wouldn’t talk about anything else concerning right things and morality.

_{★— THE ATMOSPHERE FLOODED with silence, the only sound that he could focus on, to quell his nerves of being CONFINED somewhat – was the outdoor noises, particularly the soft drops of rain that seemed to increase in density; becoming harder — the once soft, delicate pitter patter turned into something far louder. The conditions outside were getting worse, and Steve’s attention was tugged away from the way that Frank skimmed that book cover with such consideration — to the rain.} 

_{He didn’t want the conversation to turn toward morals either, contrary to popular belief, Steve didn’t ENJOY trying to make people see his way. There was convincing through ethical means, and then there was coercion and beating a dead horse. He knew the difference. Whilst that may cause friction, and it may have been a point he were to raise in the future, it wasn’t for now. Not like this.} 

     ❛   _{It’s gettin’ real bad out there, huh?} ❜

warandpunishment:

Frank heard the man in silence, still showing some concern, now knowing that Rogers indeed had a problem. He didn’t request him to get inside his place, giving the man some space. After all, they weren’t friends, they weren’t close to each other. Frank just respected the man enough to pay him a visit.

“I’m worried.” He got straight to the point, not hiding his real reason. “You’re not acting like yourself.” The man wasn’t even shaving, he was clearly tired and depressed. Frank knew he couldn’t really help him, but at least he wanted to show Rogers some support.

“Just… don’t let that consume you. Take care of yourself.” Then, he turned around to leave the place, not looking back.

_{★— AN UNNERVING RESPONSE; being told that the man was concerned, warranting such a WORRY from the Punisher himself; a man with a heart that was so HEAVILY guarded by his own making. He was spoken to so shortly, curtly as expected, but hearing those words only for him to walk away afterwards didn’t quite add up.} 

 ❛    _{You came here just to say that, and leave? I didn’t expect this, I didn’t expect YOU here, but — what was the point, Castle?} ❜ 

_{Lingering by the door — his arms hung by his side, after being held in a confused shrug for a moment. This was a display of support – but he questioned WHERE the support was in those few words and that STARE he was being given.} 

warandpunishment:

It might have been a serious matter for Rogers to take a break from working with the Avengers, but Frank also knew a soldier needed some time alone. Teamwork was always part of a soldier’s life, though loneliness surrounded them. It was talking to someone, but keeping their own hard experiences to themselves, most of them traumatizing, because nobody could help them with anything. Not even words. It had been years since the last time Frank had held a gun for the US Military, but the feeling was still there. In any case, Frank showed some real and unusual concern towards Rogers, so he decided to pay him a visit.

“Are you okay?”

_{★—  AN ODD RESPONSE – and not the person he was expecting to show up on his doorstep, the unusual concern was noted, and there was that feeling at the back of his mind that caused him to wonder why Frank was REALLY here. It just seemed out of character, that being said, he had previously seen him adorn a more HUMAN side, an ego torn away from the reputation of the PUNISHER, but rather donning that of Frank Castle.}

_{It was moments like these he didn’t take for granted.}

_{Steve wasn’t one to divulge about his feelings, particularly to fellow soldiers, nonetheless, his hand reached up to rub his now overgrown locks.}

  ❛    _{There’s a lot going on in the team, and I’m not quite sure where I stand, to be truthful. What brings you here, though?}  ❜

warandpunishment:

Oh. So Rogers was an artist? Frank parted his lips at the new information, interested even more in the man’s words. One thing was read comic books, appreciate them. Another was draw the comic books, give children of that time something to have fun and hope. He knew Rogers grew up during the Great Depression, so being an artist to soothe the suffering of everyone, especially kids, was a noble thing to do. His father, Mario, probably read some of Rogers’ work, he had a collection of comic books even when he was a Marine in WWII.

“That’s the beauty of being an artist…” He caught himself saying those words, and he discreetly shut up, clearing his throat. One could swear he was slightly blushing. But Frank admired the man even more now. Rogers had this thing of inspiring people, and even before he was Captain America, he already did that with comic books.

He knew he shouldn’t say anything else, but he wanted to. That was Rogers, after all. “I think being an artist is a very hard job, even more than being a soldier.” He paused, glancing at his own book on Rogers’ hand. He was referring to writers as well. “They put into words or artworks what they have in their hearts. They had this power of making people feel better or controlling people… and when an artist decide to help people, that’s…” He sighed, averting his eyes.

“That’s beautiful and selfless.” Frank lowered his head, falling silent suddenly. He felt exposed right now, not even sure how he would explain that behavior to Rogers later. Rogers could even use the excuse Frank was still ‘human’ so he could stop him from killing someone. But Frank was far from being a good person, and there was no turning back to him.

Rain started outside, and Frank tried to focus on its sound. Whatever Rogers would say, he would try not to take it too personally.

_{★— ASSUMING IT WAS COMMON KNOWLEDGE, bar him actually drawing comics, he had to clarify though –}      ❛   _{I only began actively professionally drawing, after I’d woken up, though. Made a little money on the side and I needed to look after myself, without depending too much on Stark and his funds. It was important for me to stand on my own two feet, and what better than to do something I loved.} ❜

_{He hated that word  – PROFESSIONAL. He wasn’t a professional - he was a man who enjoyed drawing, and needed a couple of extra bucks. But the title came with the work, and it was a title he didn’t particularly want.} 

_{The talk was soft, gentle and a particularly stark contrast to what they were used to. Franks expression was — -something else, something that Steve couldn’t quite put his finger on, but returning a casual smile his way was the only exchange he could muster, considering how interested he was in this talk.} 

       ❛   _{I appreciate it – but soldiers? They do something ELSE for the world, I’d say it’s equally as hard, we have to put our work into our job, we have to do the right THING even as soldiers, and as writers and as artists. Though the creative expression, does take a lot of courage, particularly if that work is shared.}❜

_{@warandpunishment // COMMENTED FOR BEARDED STEVE}

★—    ❛    _{No— I’ve taken a step back, for now.}  ❜

          _{It was hard to explain, he wasn’t QUITTING the team, but rather – needed a break to get his head back in the right space. Everyone needed time to themselves, and he was a firm believer in that too – so when Frank Castle showed up on his doorstep, he couldn’t have been MORE surprised. It didn’t take a tracker like Kraven the Hunter to find him — but he had thought that his place in Brooklyn was surrounded by such a busy atmosphere that he would blend in quite well, but not well enough, apparently.} 

warandpunishment:

Even the way Rogers held the book got Frank’s attention. He was so careful, so respectful. No doubt Frank admired the man, and he wasn’t overreacting. Rogers was indeed a role model for everyone, the kind of guy people would follow without thinking twice. He was charismatic, popular, and he was genuine.

There were two men Frank respected despite their differences: one of them was Nick Fury, and the other was obviously Steve Rogers. But Rogers had something Nick Fury didn’t, and that was honest concern towards everyone. Frank could see he wasn’t pretending to be friendly to him at that moment, Rogers was so transparent. That was something Frank would never be able to do. He had to admit he cared less for victims most of the time when he killed his opponents. Sure, he would save them, but that was it. He wouldn’t comfort them like Rogers did. He had lost a huge part of his empathy during his time in Vietnam. Sometimes, Frank even wondered if he was still human.

Rogers’ voice reached his ears again, and Frank looked at him, suddenly more interested in his words than his own thoughts. “Been reading poems since I was a kid.” His calloused hands rested over the cover of his Don Juan, caressing it gently. “Never been a fan of comic books like the other kids of my neighborhood. I… enjoyed imagining the pictures instead of seeing them. And the rhymes were music to my ears.” A pause. He had no idea why he was telling that to Rogers, but then, he remembered that Rogers genuinely cared for people.

Everyone. Even the Punisher.

_{★— CORRECT IN HIS THOUGHTS — COMPASSION was an asset that he had valued, first and foremost. Perhaps it was the doc’s words that had managed to sink in, but that very word was etched upon his heart, and was the REASON that he had donned the star. Before a soldier, he was a man, and every man had a heart. Steve would address others as he did himself, off the field – soldiers were often DIFFERENT, and in this instance that proved his theory correct.} 

_{Canting his head to one side, taking in every word spoken – still in their few, but more so than he was used to hearing from Frank, which he could appreciate. While he understood leaving imagery to the imagination, to encourage and prompt as such – as an artist he aknowledged that was a good idea – but also, he loved art so much so that he couldn’t deny the beauty of most mediums, including comic books.}

     ❛   _{I used to draw ‘em– Comic books. Back in the day. I was hired by a company, a small one, called Marvel Comics, and had a job doin’ a few pages for a hero that they wanted to bring back..} ❜

_{Perhaps that was saying so much, he did draw under a different alias after all. And maybe it was a little TOO cheeky ( or narcissistic ) admitting he drew Captain America comics.} 

    ❛   _{But I understand – wanting to think of things yourself, having the freedom to run wild in your mind, interpreting the words as YOU see them, and not with set imagery attached. That’s how I started– dreamin’ big, taking stories to heart and wanting to be an adventurer, even a knight, sometimes.}  ❜

warandpunishment:

“It’s your chance of reading it, then.” Frank watched the man sitting down next to him, and he handed the book to him. It was strange to show such habit to someone like Rogers, who was used to see Frank’s dark side. Actually, just a few people saw him in a peaceful moment. His icy blue eyes stared at Rogers for a couple of minutes, observing his interest towards the book. Yes, Frank wanted to know if the man would enjoy one of his favorite stories, even if it was just corporal, no words.

Then, he turned his attention back to his Don Juan, suddenly more interested in watching Rogers reading than focusing on the story itself. He had been a fan of Captain America since his years in the military, and he somehow wanted to make the man proud. Just a fanboy, but more silent. He didn’t hide that side of his, though. Who knew him probably already noticed he admired Steve Rogers.

Curiosity was bigger than his silence. Frank looked at Rogers again, watching him as he closed his book slowly. It was an involuntary move, probably something he wouldn’t have done if he was thinking straight. It didn’t take long, though. Frank suddenly noticed his own reaction, and glanced away discreetly.

“You like reading, Rogers?” He tried to cover his own actions, resting his book on his lap.

^{★— PEERING OVER THE PAGES, glancing at the worn leather, and yet – as worn as it was, it had been TENDED to, looked after and cared for. This was a possession with much more behind it than book being bought in a store. His fingertips held it, carefully and CONSIDERABLY, gently opening it to soak in the ink and the words they had formed.} 

^{Having that ESCAPE was vital, considering their careers. Men who had seen war were in need of such a REPRIEVE. Words of fiction provided comfort, tales of victory instilled a FIRE in their hearts.} 

^{Truth be told, there was a mutual respect between the men, despite their differences Steve believed that there was some sort of LEVEL that they both stood on. Of course he knew, by the way that Frank had ADDRESSED him in the past, that there was some sort of appreciation for who he was, even though their words may have crossed the line at some points.} 

^{With nod, he replied, though his azures remained intent on reading.} 

    ❛  _{I do, always have, even when I was a kid. I wasn’t the most educated, but one thing my ma taught me was to read, and I’ve been doing so ever since. How long have you been reading things like this? This always been a leisure for you?} ❜