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» WHO? Matt Murdock & OPEN
» WHEN? Now
» WHERE? Deck 6 => 6.27 => Deck 5
» WHAT? Arrival
» WARNINGS? TBC

Arrival Hall (CLOSED to Frank Castle)
It's cold.

He's not where he was before. He knows that much. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets his senses go, scanning his surroundings like an uncalibrated radar. Metal. Lots of metal, clanging, banging. But everything is wrong. Lighter, like things are floating even when they're not. People are talking. Laughing, maybe. But distant, like the next apartment building over, or somewhere down the next block. The fine hairs on his arms and on the back of his neck stand with the low buzz-hum of the vessel, creaking, engine churning like an old ship, suspended in space.

It's like a hangover, except. He feels heavy even though he's light. Shackles on his feet. His head hurts. Everything hurts. And God, what is that noise?

Less of a waking up, more of regaining consciousness as Matt rolls over with a pained cry and a grimace.

His hand crawls over to the smartwatch, trying to mute the beeping and humming and screeching grating against his ears. What day is it? What time? What happened? He clutches the device with one hand and runs the other hand down his body. Daredevil's gone. Only Matthew. A jumpsuit covering the bandages. Stitches. Blood. No pearly gates, no apostles. No questions to answer about how he's lived his life, whether he's lived it well, whether he's repentant. Paid enough of a price. Just a jumpsuit... and a pair of boots?

"...lectra." Talking feels like rousing up a sandstorm in his throat. He groans and struggles to his feet, using energy he doesn't have to drive him forward. Out. Just the one thing on his mind.

I have to save her.

He gets blood on his palm as he presses his hand over a wet bandage, stitches having been ripped as he sluggishly stumbles deliriously down the corridor. His boots clunk along at an uneven, unsteady pace. Everything is too loud. Too cold. Too heavy. There's blood on the wall where he braced himself against it. And then there's a door. Everything flickers behind his closed eyelids. Black, red, black, red, black, black, black...

Room 6.27. Where everything's a little quieter. And he can just focus. Keep the red lights on in the dark.

6.27. Matthew. Chapter Six. Verse Twenty-Seven. 'Can any one of you, by worrying, add a single hour to your life?'

Hn. That's funny. The chuckle bubbles to the surface. For all the pain He's inflicted, God still has a decent sense of humour.

Departure Lounge (OTA)
He doesn't take kindly to being dumped in the med bay, but there's not much of a fight he can put up against Frank Castle in his current state. He's not sure how long he's been resting there, but when he's well enough to orientate himself again, he's not staying in the med bay. The machines are noisy. He has questions. He's scared.

Matt makes it two steps out of the med bay before space sickness kicks in. The sheer wrongness of the gravitational pull throws him off, throws everything around him off. He sinks down to his knees and clutches his head, curling up against the wall. He looks pale, like he's about to throw up.

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He pulls his hand back and folds his arm over his stomach, heaving a sigh. Of all the places Frank Castle could have chosen to make a friend. He comes here. And whisks a little girl off her feet.

Idly he wonders if Frank's daughter would have grown up to be like her, looking upon her dad as a medal-adorned hero while he stares down people in his crosshairs, gives himself sweet dreams of Afghanistan and nightmares of the white picket fence life, beats himself up over missing half the important firsts while he was on all his tours.

"He's not messed up," Matt eventually says. "He followed Uncle Sam into the desert when he was young. Now Uncle Sam told him to toughen up or die in the sand. So he toughened up and became a bit of a hero. Then they took away his food, his water. His home. His family. And when Uncle Sam didn't need him anymore he told Frank, just like he told every other man in uniform who made it back home alive: thanks for the years you've given me, but there's no place for you here anymore. Frank's been in the desert for a really long time. He just needs a little bit of help finding a way out."

There is a bitter truth in everything Matt is saying. As grateful as she is to be in America, as grateful as her parents are, the country could be cruel sometimes just like any other. Maybe it did set Frank up to fail. Kamala can't be sure. All she can do is know her part in things. It's like what Joe was saying. She should only worry about the things that she can control.

"I've always been there for him." She has to laugh because what must that sound like to him? He doesn't know yet what it's like here. Even a naive baby like her has to be useful. "I know that sounds dumb coming from me. What good is a little girl? What can she do?" Matt never said any of those things. Deep down, Kamala doesn't think he's even thinking them. It's her own insecurities rearing their ugly head. She still knows what she looks like to people even while learning to unapologetically be herself the moment she became Ms. Marvel. It's the curse of being a teenager and a girl at the same time.

She sobers up. "But, he's been through a lot here. I always stayed at his side for as long as he would let me. I've always tried my best to support him. I don't know what happened back there. I can guess and probably be right, but it doesn't really matter. I wouldn't leave him to suffer the way you're talking about if that means anything to you." She thinks it does. Matt cares in a way for Frank. He may suck at showing it, but she has confidence that is the case all the same.

He wishes he could tell her something better about the country they come from. There's plenty of good things about his city. About his country. The way it treats its soldiers, however, with far too many of them paranoid and homeless, left to fend for themselves as they struggle to make it through winter on the streets, does not rank very highly on Matthew's list.

And Frank is not just a veteran. None of them ever are. But he deserves a lot more than what he got when he came home.

"You've got his six," Matt reassures. "You're watching out for him where he can't see. Where it would hurt him the most. You found someone lost in the desert and you stopped to lend him a hand. You do a lot more for Frank than you realise."

Now whether he thinks it's healthy for Frank to be replacing his lost family members like this is another matter entirely, even if Matt doesn't believe that's what's happening here. He's going to be supportive of any positive, life-affirming endeavour Frank's undertaking.

"You're worth every bit as much as anyone else here. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

That wins a true smile from her. He's still a jerk, but what he's saying is very sweet. It does a lot to warm her up to Matt along with the obvious care where Frank is concerned. "You have a nice way of saying things." She compliments sincerely. She likes to write stories back home so it's a talent she can appreciate.

Kamala lets out a soft sigh as she remembers that she can't quite let this go yet. "I really didn't know what happened back there and I still don't until I talk to him about it. I think it's safe to say no one here does because they kind of suck at secrets most of the time. You should be careful who you mention that too. It's still his story to tell. I can promise you that he hasn't killed anyone here. Actually... the truth is..." She shakes her head. "He gets beat up constantly. Seriously like I've only seen his face without bruises on them for maybe an hour tops? People punch him all the time. It's practically a joke at this point. I had to designate a public area for punching just for safety reasons!"

"A lot of attorneys do," he replies with a tight-lipped smile. It's one thing to corner a witness into saying what you want the jury to hear, but Matt's not the only one who spends a lot of time pacing around fluffing up his opening and closing statements with emotionally-charged poetry.

Frank probably deserves one or two of those punches. It's on the tip of his tongue, but Matt doesn't say as much. Matt honestly thought Frank would have been more upfront about who he was. At least made some kind of public statement if not a public display as The Punisher to make sure that everyone falls in line around here. If he'd known Frank was possibly on the mend? And had said next to nothing at all about his past, Matt wouldn't have spoken so honestly.

Frank didn't seem like the type to just hang up the mantle especially if he knew young neighbours were getting hurt. Matt didn't think he had the same outside pressures to 'retire'. But what does Red know, anyway? They're not exactly close. Maybe being out in space without an arsenal at his disposal is doing a number on him.

"Punching Frank is... probably not how we want to solve problems." Even though at some stage Matt's probably going to punch Frank too. Hopefully not in front of her. And hopefully she will be able to forgive him for it.

Kamala nods. She's not arguing that. She's just stating facts here. The man is a living bruise. She's learned to live with it at this point as long as he's no serious danger. "Not really, but people are stressed. Sometimes he does something totally immature to deserve it, but I think most of the time it's just sparring to keep our muscles strong." Kamala gives him a pointed stare even if she thinks he can't see it. Remember that, Mr. Lawyer!!!!

"He's the type of guy who let someone else do all the hitting and then like throw one punch to convince them he's totally trying. Basically he pulls a dad. I'm shocked he doesn't say 'oh no you defeated me!' after every fight."

Isn't there a gym for that? Or is Frank replacing the worn out punching bag?

"It's not okay to hit people even if you're stressed." Says the hypocrite to the young lady. He really wants to add a caveat, make an exception for Frank Castle, but Matt also doesn't want her to take him seriously and learn bad habits from these casually violent people she's surrounded herself with.

Right now Matt's probably coming across like the anti-fun kind of dad.

Maybe Frank's just not as good as Kamala thinks he is. Without a gun, anyway. Marines are formidable but they don't get trained in the same way he and Elektra did. But Matt's not going to shatter her mental image of him any further.

"Is your dad here? Or your mom?"

Kamala holds up her hands defensively. She really didn't intend for it to come out that way. "I know! I totally apologized the one time I got mad at him for being a jerk and punched him the arm." She pauses for a beat. "The next day. Things were kind of heavy at the time." Kamala explains. If it seems like she is stalling for time, it's because she is. She already knows she can't hide how badly she misses her parents from even a blind man.

Kamala sighs heavily. "No, it's just me. To be honest, I thought I was the only one from my Earth until I talked to Karen. She's really good at cross-referencing stuff unlike Frank."

'The only one from Earth' almost gets a laugh out of Matthew. Derisive jokes about believing in God but not aliens aside, he isn't sure he can take these allegations seriously until he can sense one standing right in front of him. Of course, she's not joking about her loneliness, and he shouldn't belittle her. He can tell that she feels as alone out here as she describes.

Frank's got a very specific set of skills. In the he will find you and he will kill you kind of way. Matt has a lot more faith in Karen too when it comes to figuring this kind of thing out.

"We'll look after you until we get home, alright?"

Kamala turns her head to properly stare at him. It's not that she thinks he's incapable or anything. The offer is what gets her. Karen and Frank are there for her. Neither have them have outright told her they were looking after her in place of her parents though. "We just met and you're already offering to take care of me?"

"I know I don't look like I can do much, but. I used to work with Karen." And. Date. Among. Other things. That's another awkward conversation for another awkward time. Hopefully never, since he's wrecked their relationship as well.

"Maybe everyone here can work together. Find a way home."

"What? That's totally my line! I know you're blind, but I'm... petite and have a baby face. Literally no one takes me seriously! You at least have an inspirational story going on over there." It totally goes over her head that is kind of an offensive thing to say. She means no harm as usual.

Kamala switches gears because she needs to make sure he gets this right off the bat. "Oh but, total reassurance? We actually all do work together to find a way home. We had an off time when this place was literally torturing us, but otherwise we're actually a good team! We've had several wins lately." If it sounds like she's bragging, it's because she's that proud of the others.

"It's not that great," he assures her. Funnily enough Frank's probably much more open with Kamala than Matthew is. He only ever lets people in so far, to varying degrees, and then he clamps right up and shuts people out. Not even his priest gets the full access pass.

"Yeah? That's good to hear." And really that's what he would prefer that she take away from this experience. He was planning on just taking things one day at a time. Getting back on his feet. Recalibrate his senses while figuring out how everything works. Then getting his bearings and promptly tumbling into his old self-destructive cycle of finding another situation where he ends up sacrificing himself for the greater good.

"I have faith in you. You ought to believe in yourself."

She looks at him in fond disbelief. Is that a thing? Kamala is making it a thing. This guy is just so intense and ridiculous to her. She thinks she likes him even if he just made her life a million times more complicated.

She nods in agreement with him because he's actually on the money with that. "I'm working on it. I didn't realize how much it shakes you to just lose your home and family suddenly. I mean I knew like the way you know stuff that's obvious, but yeah. Being here kind of messes with me. I don't always know my place in all this the way I did back home." She went from being a superhero and daughter to, well, not those things. It's hard to come back from that at any age. She's trying because the alternative is unthinkable to her. She never will be the person who easily gives into despair.

Yeah if she thought Frank was a drama queen she had another thing coming with his lawyer spawning onto the ship like this.

Matt's throat tightens at the mention of loss, and his unseeing gaze seems to flicker like she's touched a nerve, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Everyone feels exactly the same way you do right now. It doesn't get better when you're older, you just cope with the confusion a little differently. I mean there are no uses for blind men or lawyers here, are there? I have to find my own place too. And so does Frank, and Karen, and everyone else. We didn't decide to come to this place, or who would join us here. But we can decide the kind of person we want to be, how much of a light we want to be unto others."

Kamala feels a stab of guilt. He lost someone, didn't he? She should really learn to be more careful about what she says. She listens quietly to the rest of it. It actually is solid advice even if already knows some of it already. "That is suspiciously good advice. And specific." Kamala narrows her eyes at him. It may not be her denomination, but she knows those light references!!! "You're Christian, aren't you? They love talking about light."

"We love talking about all sorts of things," Matt confirms. This ship isn't going to take that away from him. Once she gets him going about a topic she won't be able to shut him up. He's not feeling particularly preachy at the moment though, and most of the things he preaches about like giving people second chances and having faith aren't about 'spreading the word' anyway.

"If it bothers you we don't have to talk." Said like Matt senses a disturbance in the Force.

Kamala has to do a double take. It cannot be stressed enough she's not particularly religious compared to like her brother or visible like Nakia, but compared to these guys? Her love for God was super obvious. She almost forgot some people didn't know that about her here. "What? No! I'm Muslim so don't expect me to ask you to stop talking about God. I'm cool with it."

Kamala claps her hands together. "Oh! I should tell you that Karen and Frank found a chapel! You can totally pray there whenever you want. All faiths are welcome. I should warn you it's kind of a hangout spot for like 90% of the other people who come there."

"Oh," he says with a surprised smile. He knows very little about Islam, all things considered, but he's not the intolerant or hateful sort that would denounce or insult her for her faith.

"Frank told me about the chapel. It... should be open to everyone, I would hope, even if they just want to hang out. Perhaps we can go sometime," Matt offers.

Kamala scratches her cheek. How to put it delicately some people are kind of rude about it? "Uh, I love that people come, but how do I put this? It's not easy to talk to God in Arabic when the person next to you is complaining about the food replicators." She shrugs. That's just the tea on that. "But, sure! I'd totally love to. Praying alone totally sucks."

"Right." Funnily enough Matthew has more of a problem talking to God than he does with background chatter, if nothing else because background chatter has been a constant for him for the last almost twenty five years or however long it's been. Being honest and upfront with himself and all the things he's done that's wronged others is another thing entirely.

"I'm... pretty good at guessing when there's going to be fewer people there. We'll go when it's a little quieter."

Kamala lights up at that. She truly can't get that mad about it. She used to chill behind a screen with only girls. That was so dull she never felt bad about ditching it. "Really? Much appreciated. I've kind of have a schedule so maybe we'll end up going during one of those slots too. It'll be a two-for-one deal!" Only she can make this sound like some grand adventure.

"Okay," Matt agrees. He... doesn't have a schedule. In fact he doesn't know what he's doing here so until he gets situated and stops throwing up everywhere, she can come look for him anytime she wants. If she wants to. He knows he doesn't make for great company.

"I uh... Well. You'll know where you find me, won't you?" He doesn't know where he'll be either, but at least this place doesn't sound too big.

Kamala takes that as her cue to stop babysitting. He seems better anyways. She practically hops to her feet and plays at thinking about it by humming. "I figure I'll just follow the trail of blood or Frank trying to clean up the trail of blood!" She starts to walk off with a playful laugh. "Just ask around for Kamala! It'll be much easier. Catch you later, Mr. Attorney!" She's off on her way. She'll ask Frank what the lawyer guy's name is later.

Smartass. He can't help but duck his head and smile even as he feels his head start to throb again. It doesn't occur to him that Frank's actually cleaning up after him right now.

"Uh- that's not-" ...my name, he doesn't trail off. She's far out of earshot by now with her magboots banging away from him.

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