Denny's Meme

[memezillamods]

 It's late. Like, 3 AM late.
You're hungry. You're bored.
But nothing is open.
Except Denny's.


RULES

1. Post to the meme.
2. Find somebody to eat with. Figure out why you'd do this to yourself.
3. What even is "Moons Over My Hammy?" 

Comments

[brutalize]

[He doesn't pry because people (in their line of work) generally don't like prying, but he doesn't totally mind listening, either. To certain individuals, anyway: she'd get a pass.

Especially since she guessed the branch right and everything. Inter-military rivalries demand he be personally, deeply insulted every time someone dares to assume he's Army or Air Force, or even just regular Navy. Marine Corps or bust, oorah. He fights down the urge to smile, not entirely successfully.]

Yeah. Scout sniper, couple tours. [More than a couple, but who's counting?] Guess I just still can't believe there's so much ninja shit in the middle of New York City. [Listen, ranged fighting with guns is by far the better option let him talk you into that shit Sara.]

[thecanarylives]

[If she were the prying type, it'd be easy enough for her to dig into the life and times of Frank Castle. Most of it had been aired out in the press during his trial, anyway, but Sara isn't much for the media. Spending the bulk of the past 5 years underground - literally and figuratively - will do that.

In any case, it's nice to unravel a story like his the old fashioned way. He reads like a battered novel, unexpected and unpredictable.

She can't help but smile back at him, sipping at her champagne and swinging her legs playfully as they dangle over the bartop.]

We ninja like to travel. Got some pretty awesome frequent flyer miles out of it, anyway. [She grins, eyeing him curiously.] Think you could take a former ninja assassin in hand-to-hand, soldier?

[brutalize]

[Frank snorts. He always excelled at MCMAP, and nobody sane ever tries to corner him in a fistfight, but that ninja shit is something else.]

Maybe. I wouldn't put money on it. [He's got an ego, but it's not about that. And even if it was, Red would have kicked it into submission by now, all that goddamn flipping around and shit. For looking like such ridiculous asshole in his little devil costume doing somersaults through the air, he packs a mean fucking punch.

But Frank proved that he can ring his bell with a .380 perfectly fine, whether or not he's outclassed with bare hands.

He smirks, dumping his little bottle of whiskey into the coffee pot and finding the supply of Styrofoam cups, pouring himself one.] If most combat took place within ass-slapping distance I'd be more worried about that. [Or he'd just fight dirty and hide handguns in his shoes, you know, like you do.]

[thecanarylives]

[That snort puts a grin on her face, and she knocks back the rest of her champagne bottle before jumping off the bar to her feet.]

C'mon, let's see whatcha got. [She may be quite a few inches shorter than him, and a hell of a lot more petite, but based on the fight earlier tonight she can still do her fair share of damage.

Just to punctuate her point - and, maybe his - she reaches out to tap his ass with the back of her bare foot in a playful rendition of a spin kick.]

No weapons, just arms and legs. You could stand to pick up a few things for the next time The Hand decides to drop into Hell's Kitchen.