Open

[blindninja]

» 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.

Comments

[oorah]

Today is the day he finally gets his shit together to go talk to Karen about everything between them. After a long sleep in Elektra's room, he can think again, mind unclouded. Everything seems a little brighter, a little clearer this morning - well, nearing afternoon. He had been tired, go figure. He's always tired.

6.19 is a welcome reprieve though he hasn't seen the inside of his own room since June, it feels like. Maybe that's accurate, honestly. Frank shaves the sides of his head and shaves off days of stubble, feeling more like himself every moment that goes by since he regained his sense of touch. He makes his way through a shower and a fresh change into the same worn navy jumpsuit he always wears, trying not to think of his daily showers at Karen's place a week previously; needing her help for even the simplest of tasks.

A sound outside his door strains his hearing, though it feels next-to-superhuman after not having it at all. He's just so grateful that he can even if it sounds fucking bad. It sounds like-- someone's in trouble, maybe? It's enough to get Max's attention for sure, facing the door and pinning back his ears, growling lowly in uncertainty. Frank steps forward and ruffles his ears, taking the time to strap on his communicator, and drop his extra one in his pocket just in case.

By the time he's made it out into the corridor, no one is there and at first he thinks he just imagined it - if not for Max's reaction. That's when he sees the blood. Frank runs over to the spot on the floor, and from there looks up to see another smear. Someone was hurt here, or. This could be another station trap or illusion but if someone needs his help he has to take the chance. Telling Max to get behind him, he follows the trail to 6.27 and steels himself, all six mag-boots of man and canine heralding his arrival against the heavy metal grating of the floor. But for good measure, he raps S-A-F-E into the doorframe with his knuckles, the same way he always does.

The door opens on its own, apparently unlocked and he takes in a little breath in surprise. Max is on the slumped-over figure before Frank can physically get there, but then a solid hand is landing on Matt's shoulder and turning him over. He can't see the familiar, bruised visage of one Frank Castle, but he can smell him (sorry, at least he just showered) and feel a flat dog tongue lick at the back of his neck nervously.

"Red?" Matt will hear next, Frank's gruff voice carrying in an incredulous tone. Before he can fully think it through, he's hefting the other man over his shoulder as gently as he can and beelining it for the elevators.

[blacksky]

She hasn't slept this deeply since that night at Matthew's apartment, the one before everything fell apart. It was blissful even with the obnoxious doggie snores coming from Max. Elektra hadn't realized how much she missed simply being with someone else or maybe her denial was simply that strong. She certainly didn't spend the first two months here drinking with Miller for her health.

Elektra is past all that now. She has friends. Karen surprisingly is one of them after such an awkward first meeting back home. She's working on prying herself out of bed to see her. They've got codes to plug into a door. She wants to check in on Karen too after her half of the lovebirds turned up at her door. She's sure there's a story there. The least she can do is let Karen share it.

Her hair is tied up in a ponytail as she puts on that awful faded blue jumpsuit and magboots for the hundredth time. One of these days she'll have to see if she can coax Karen into borrowing her something. She might actually learn to appreciate her style if only because it's not a jumpsuit.

It's the sound of Max's magboots, so distinct because really who else, but Frank Castle would ask for such a thing? that really gives her a kick to get moving. She makes sure her hair is tied back straight one final time before she heads out to greet Max. She's grown to love that dog if only because deep down she's not all that different from him. Usually that sound means Karen or Frank are nearby too. Either way, it is something to look forward to. She moves towards the door in time to see the trio of boys disappear over to the medbay... and she masks her heart like a coward.

For better or worse, she never counted on Matthew coming here. She planned on it being an enemy. She planned on it being Stick. Elektra never thought he would come. She spends too long in her doorway simply trying to work through how it makes her feel. As far as she remembers? He wounded her deeply. He threw her out after letting her pick him over Stick for killing a boy who would have destroyed them with his brothers. She is now truly alone in the world thanks to him... or was. This place was difficult to live in, but she isn't alone here. Frank said as much and she believes him.

Worse, it's hard to stay mad when she knows what she saw. Even if she could miss the way Matthew carried himself, she knows the smell of stale blood anywhere. She knows how his senses must be struggling to adapt to this. She knows him even when she doesn't want to. She also knows herself too. She's not going to stay away. She can't.

Her legs move forward, hand shooting out to shut the door shortly afterward. As much as it hurts, she has to try to offer some aid. Matthew is more her responsibility than Frank's. Incidentally, she also loves him too much not to be there for him when she suspects he'll be struggling most. Elektra really doesn't know how long she stood there as she agnozied over what to do. It's clearly long enough for Frank to get things under control.

He takes off once their eyes meet. She knows this is truly on her. Elektra puts her big girl pants on and lets her heart beat normally again. It's as close to hello as she gets some days as he knows. "Hello, Matthew." It's tentative, uncertain. She's bracing herself for another rejection. She approaches him slowly as she tries to make peace with her foolishness. How many times does she need to be told to go away? She really is pathetic.

Departure Lounge ALSO HI I RECOGNIZE YOU

[resleeves]

He's been lying low since everything happened. If he emerges from his room, it's to see Miller or Ricki and then he goes back and sits there and stares. Occasionally, he rages at no one and falls asleep only to dream of Reileen's face.

Today, he feels decent enough to come out and take a walk if only because he needs some fucking food and he doesn't want Miller having to bring it to him all the goddamn time.

So, today would be the day he leaves his room and that would be the day some poor fuck stumbles out in front of him and crumples to the ground, looking like he's about to barf all over the fucking place.

"Need a bucket?" Kovacs asks dryly.

[subplot]

When Frank tells Karen that Matt is here and gives his location, she stops what she's doing and immediately makes her way over to him. She almost doesn't believe it, not until she sees him with her own eyes. He's stepping out of the medbay as she's heading in, and she has to come to a fast stop so she doesn't run right into him. He looks like shit, though that isn't much of a surprise given his nighttime hobby back home and the fact that he's new to space. She remembers being sick for the first month or so after arriving. But this doesn't seem to necessarily only be space sickness, which makes her fall right back into her old role of worrying too damn much about Matt Murdock.

"Frank told me you were here," she explains, hurrying in so she can try to help pull him to his feet. Whatever may have happened between them, it doesn't matter now. He needs her, and she's going to take care of him the best that she can. Starting by getting his ass back in one of the beds in the medbay. Maybe later she can take the time to give him a hug but for now she's all business. She can't let herself be happy that he's here until she knows that he'll manage to survive his first few days.

"What happened this time?"

[morphogenia]

Kamala is here because she's curious. It doesn't get any deeper than that. She wants to know about the medbay and see who was leaving blood on her deck. The answer to that is ridiculously easy to find. This is the story of how a 4'10 Pakistani-American teenager is running up to Matt while he's getting sick. "Hey!" It's probably not all that pleasant considering she wears heavy mag boots like everyone else here. She's dressed up in a Captain America t-shirt and jeans so at least you know it's possible not to be a fashion disaster, Matt? Lucky you.

Kamala touches him with one of her hands. It's noticeably a bit heavy thanks to her antique gold bangles attached at her wrist. "Are you okay? Do you need a bucket? Because I can totally get one!" She's wavering on what to do when she spots it. Randomly (if you're missing context at least) Kamala laughs. "Oh my God! Frank got you with the Hello Kitty bandaids! Does this mean you're a friend of his?"

Take 2

[oorah]

Matt showing up is a huge inconvenience for Frank, but so far he's taking it in stride. While he wouldn't call what they have friendship, he does care if the man lives or dies as evidenced by his hasty rescue earlier in the day. Since then, he's had time to think about it, roll it over with his closest friends on Reverie; but he doesn't come up any more bitter. He doesn't find Matt any less deserving of his help, even if he knows the man doesn't want it. He'd told him he wouldn't be an option to refuse it and he'd meant that.

He knows if this were him, Matt probably wouldn't help him - would leave him to his own devices to die or survive as he always had. But it wasn't a fair comparison anyway, and he'd had Karen when he first arrived here. She was his rock, even now. Even as he's steeling himself for what's to come. Max is with Kamala so the poor thing won't get stressed out again if Matt takes a swing at him. Also he's pretty sure all the noises of his boots and general dogness stresses Matt out in turn, so not a great combo.

Stepping off the elevator with Matt's device clutched in hand, open to the welcome screen, he strides into the medbay, careful to keep his steps lighter than before. Deliberate. His heart too is at a steady pace, and the blind man will easily be able to pick up on how strongly he smells of Karen, which wasn't the case this morning. And Karen hadn't smelled like him, so he'll know it's recent. He walks up to the man's bed, relieved that he at least stayed long enough that he's looking a little better. Someone had brought him a fresh jumpsuit and cleaned him up a little, he's assuming Elektra, but he must be restless as Hell and ready to get out of here.

Frank comes up in front of him and holds up the device, knowing Matt will hear it hum. "You think of a username yet?"

[morethan084]

[Daisy sees him go down and rushes over to him in the hopes of catching him, but thankfully he doesn't seem to injure himself even more. Daisy moves to kneel down in front of him, hand almost reaching out to touch him before thinking of it.]

Hey. You okay?

[She only catches a glimpse of his face, and it takes a moment for her to process because the facial hair was new, but...]

Matt?

departure lounge!

[marineris]

There are few enough people on this station that Bobbie's come to at least recognize all of them in passing, even if she doesn't know them personally. This guy, crouched on the floor, is new, and clearly not having a very great time. Honestly, she's surprised she hasn't seen more people actively puking from the spin gravity on this rust bucket. She hopes that's what this is, at least.

She approaches, but doesn't crouch down next to him just yet. She's wearing an odd suit compared to most of the people he might have seen so far—it's skin tight and covered in small bits of armor embedded with some kind of circuitry.

"Hey. First time in space?"