2019-04-08 - You Served Too Huh?


Frank gets some coffee. He spots Carol Danvers. They have a surprisingly positive chat

Log Info:

Storyteller: N/A
Date: 4/8/19
Location: Therapy - NYC

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Theme Song



PM One nice thing about living in New York is having a variety of places to choose from for your coffee, some of which is surprisingly good. In this case, Carol is currently sitting in the mostly-empty lounge by herself, sipping said coffee and taking a few moments away from everything to unwind. After all, one can't live on Avengers Mansion coffee alone.

Just don't tell Jarvis.
PM Frank Castle.

The Punisher himself.

…is really incognito at the moment. Though a few of the waitresses know him and approve of his vigilante actions for the protection of others, its best to avoid the police that sometimes go through here. Dressed in all black with a black baseball cap on his head, a scruffy beard, and short-cut hair, Frank walks to the counter and orders himself a black coffee. Nice and bitter.

Like his soul.

He does turn his head though and notices Carol. But he says nothing.
PM Carol glances up and does notice the Punisher. If she recognizes him, she doesn't give a hint at it, though needless to say the Avengers don't officially approve of what the Punisher does.

Unofficially, some of them might realize there's a need for that sort of thing, but no one would really admit it publicly, of course.
PM Well, Frank would probably get along very well with the Avengers that approve of his actions. But once he gets his coffee, he turns his head to look at Carol directly, likely locking eyes with her assuming she was still looking at him.

Regardless of this, he approaches, making it appear as though he's headed for her booth.
PM Carol quirks a slight grin at Frank's approach, sitting back in her booth as he comes over. She gives him a slight nod, "Afternoon." Since he's coming over to her… well, it's not like she is hard to recognize, even out of costume, so she just waits for him to lead in, it seems.
PM Frank stops at Carol's booth, looking at her. "Afternoon." for some reason, even though Frank is just a normal guy…he has an air about him. "Mind if I sit with you?" his voice is naturally deep and tough, his eyes don't leave Carol's for even the briefest of moments. Seems he's either paranoid or he..felt like sitting next to Carol.
PM Carol considers for a moment, then nods, "Sure thing. Have a seat." She smiles over at Frank, giving him a curious look, "Rough night?" A pretty easy question, though depending on if she knows who Frank is or not, it can be pretty loaded.
PM Frank, at least with no small measure of politeness, slides into the booth. He doesn't show if he's injured currently or not, but more than likely he's currently nursing a few wounds that would put most men in the hospital, but Frank is hardcore. "Guess you could say that. What about you? Good morning?" he notices how pleasant she looks, and simply returns the question to her. Even if he has a motive, that doesn't mean he can't at least be a gentleman.
PM Carol chuckles, "Yeah, it definitely was a good evening, more or less. A rather unusual one, but that seems to be my life these days." She gives a bit of a shrug, "It's nice to just get away from that and have a mundane cup of coffee sometimes." She hmms, noticing something about Frank, and so she says, "You were in the Service?" A bit out of the blue, but there's always something about the eyes.
PM Frank doesn't much talk about the military days, namely because everyone in his barbershop quartet is very much so dead. Agent Orange (the person, not the weapon) saw to that. But Frank does seem to smirk gently at Carol. "Yeah. Marine Corps, Special Forces Operations." He gives her a closer look. "You?" though something tells him regarding her more lithe build that she might be an Air Force member.
PM Carol grins, "Air Force, used to fly fighter jets." She definitely has the confidence that you'd expect from a pilot, and she looks over at Frank, sipping her coffee and looking perfectly at ease. "I'm Carol, by the way." Doesn't say the last name, mainly because… well, it's nice to not be instantly recognized for once. Or at least not fawned over if she is.
PM Frank's not the type to fawn or 'fanboy' over people. Its a handshake, a nod of hello, and done. But, as Carol introduces herself, He extends a hand across the table, strong and with calluses, and he shakes Carol's hand in a firm grip. "Frank. Nice to meet you Carol." he also deigns not to reveal his last name, because….everyone in New York knows who the Punisher is.
PM Carol smiles a bit, seeming to appreciate the regular grip instead of something flirty or fluffy, "Thanks. Always nice to meet a fellow soldier, even if they keep their boots on the ground." Though now, of course, she doesn't need a plane to be going Mach 2 with her hair on fire.
PM Frank seems to nod. "Likewise, in most cases. Good to know you Flygirls ain't entirely extinct yet." Frank was one of the guys who approved of having women fly, just like he was okay with having women fight, regardless of what his actual preference on the matter was. He sips his coffee. He wants to ask the million dollar question, but doesn't. He hears perhaps the slight accent to her words. "Where ya from? Here?"
PM A chuckle at that, "Actually, grew up in Boston. Just ended up here after bouncing all over." Which is true, if a bit understated, then she continues, "So yeah, guy I work with is a huge Yankees fan, so we have a little bit of a rivalry going that way." Because of course she cheers for the BoSox. Oh well, nobody's perfect.
PM "Shame. I was hoping you wasn't a Red Sox. Can't be friends anymore I'm afraid." Frank seems to smile very softly, meaning it in humor clearly, but then its back to his standard deadpan. "So, you a regular here?"
PM Carol chuckles, "Yeah, story of my life in this city." She grins easily back at Frank, "Oh, off and on. I like coming here for the coffee, but it's sometimes hard for me to have a regular schedule. Job doesn't make it that easy."
PM "mm." Is all Frank says I reply. "And What is it that you do?" Castle questions, perhaps in a way that suggests that he knows something…like all of her fans know.
PM Carol rolls her eyes a bit, "Um, do… well, I ah…" She pauses, then grins wryly, "See, now, I was having a nice conversation and now I'm going to tell you what I do and it's just going to ruin it."
PM Frank looks at her. "And thats another thing we have in common. So, lets not talk about work. Hell, I don't know, What do you like todo for fun?"
PM Carol grins, "You mean, aside from watch the Red Sox crush the Yankees?" She winks, teasing a bit as she continues, "Actually, since I've been… out of town for a while, I'm enjoying catching up on things. Books, movies, music, pretty much just about everything really. I like going out and seeing what I haven't seen before. That was the nice thing about flying, just me and the open sky."
PM Frank just chuckles at that. "Not in your dreams." Go Yankees! "Catching up? you been gone for awhile?" But then he nods very softly. "Makes sense. I like playing my guitar and watching TV." and Punishing.
PM Carol chuckles, "Yeah, bit of a culture shock since I was out of the country. I mean, there's news and all that, social media and such, but that's different than seeing everything first-hand." Well, that plus Hala isn't exactly equipped for Facebook. So they aren't all bad there.
PM "Hnnh, I know the feeling. though typically it wasn't that much of a shock." Frank shrugs but he keeps eye contact with Carol. "Well, it was good talking with ya Carol, but I better get back to work. Will I see ya round?" a question and an offer rolled into one.
PM Carol pauses, then grins, "Yeah, probably. I tend to be pretty visible around town, but I always like to get coffee here when I can." She nods towards Frank, "Good talking with you Frank."
PM "Likewise, Carol. I'm easy to find. Probably here, most mornings." Frank straightens his yankee cap before he gets up. "see you if I see ya." and off he goes. He even walks like a Marine. but, he doesn't wave…just makes his exit after tipping the shopkeeper.

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