Gotham Junk
Roleplaying Log: Gotham Junk
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Frank goes looking for a van and finds one at Serenity's junkyard

Other Characters Referenced: Harvey Bullock, Batman
IC Date: June 26, 2019
IC Location: O'Connell's Scrap Yard, Gotham
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 27 Jun 2019 04:00
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for language
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

Someone trying to track Frank Castle down would be surprised at how often he ends up in Gotham. It's certainly not the weather, because even in the summer, it seems like it's always raining. That's perfect for Frank, because it means that when he walks his way through Columbia Point, no one looks twice at his black trenchcoat and ball cap. It hides the black eye that he has, and it also hides his features, blocky and far-too-well-known to the police. He approaches O'Connell's Scrap Yard, frowning heavily as he looks it over, then heads toward the entry, right about the end of the business day.

* * *

O'Connell's Scrap Yard is one of those really non-descript places that most people would overlook. This is largely in part to the fact that there are high walls around the property, complete with barbed wire. Sure the contents of the yard may be junk but its junk that is always in need and some people, especially in Gotham, are often quick 5 finger discount. Not to mention the occasional people looking for a hideout. A glance around upon entry would show numerous vehicles arranged by Make and model scattered through the area. Each vehicle is in various states of disrepair though there are a few intact vehicles. Turns out someone's been fixing some of the less delapitated ones up.

The Quiet is fractured by a hubcap going flying out the office door. A man in a fedora and jacket comes cowering out followed by a young woman, who doesn't look more than 20. She has black and purple hair, blue eyes, and is carrying a crowbar. "Let me make this clear, We don't NEED your kind of protection! Come back again, I'm going to run this thing up your ass sideways!" The girl is livid as she continues chasing the guy off.

The guy trips face first into some mud and then scurries to his feet before jumping into his own car. "You crazy bitch! You are going to pay for this! We are going to show you why you need our protection." He slams his door.

The girl smirks, "Oh is that so…" She lets out a sharp whistle and a pair of rather pissed dogs take off towards the car. The guy quickly gets the heck out of there.

* * *

Frank pauses at the explosion of angry words and the clatter of the hubcap rolling down the concrete. He watches it roll, roll, roll, and then flop over, then looks back to the tail end of the confrontation. Shifting his stance a little, one hand disappears into his trenchcoat, snagging the grip of the pistol at his back, but not drawing it. He grunts, then chuckles and shakes his head at the whistle and the rush of the dogs. The amusement fades immediately, a mere micro-expression on his craggy, bruised face. Collecting the fallen hubcap, he steps through the gate, looks over his shoulder for the dogs, then holds out the hubcap, "Ahh, Gotham." Beat pause, "Think you lost this." His voice sounds like 40 miles of rough road.

* * *

The young girl gives another whistle. This one sounding a bit different. The dogs are clearly well trained. They quickly move back to their place which happens to be hiding behind the office, chewing on license plates. She steps towards the new arrival and accepts the hubcap back. "Thank you kindly. Sorry bout that. One of the local smalltime gangs has been trying to move up in the world and wants to start charging my dad and I for protection, largely from them." She gives a shrug and her stance shifts to one that is much more friendly than the previous one. Even the crowbar goes from a threatening place to down by her side.

"Nice to meet you, My name is Serenity O'Connell. My dad owns the place I just kinda take care of it for him. What can I do for you. Also Loving that trenchcoat. Though isn't a little warm this time of year for that?"

* * *

"It's Gotham." Frank pauses a moment, shrugging slightly, "If it wasn't a small-time gang, it'd be Falcone's goons, or some crazy shithead." The introduction causes him to grunt quietly, responding, "Pete." He looks down at the trenchcoat, shrugging again, "Keeps the rain off." It's not that he doesn't talk much, it's that the information comes out in short bursts, like a compressed squawk on the radio. "Surprised you all didn't have trouble before. Good lookin' dogs though. Maybe that helped." He looks over the junkyard, the parts that he can see from where he is, then back to Serenity, "Lookin' for a van. Something quiet." He probably doesn't mean engine-wise.

* * *

Serenity goes quiet for a moment and then glances over her shoulder, "Okay I'm going to assume you aren't looking for a people mover. You want something for work. The good news, I was working on one this week. Its an old chevy van, early 90's model. I've put a small block in it so it will have power, Transmission's good, New brakes, good tires, Good exhaust. It does have a leak in the AC which I was intending to track down next so that will need charged but, beyond that. Perfect for hauling or whatever." She gestures to an older fullsized van which could possibly use a new paintjob but beyond that it seems sound. "I am asking 800 for it. I mean I can guarantee the work on it as I did it myself." She smiles with pride.

* * *

"Yeah. Room in the back for gear or people or whatever, but don't need seats." Frank listens to the description of the van, nodding slowly, "Just 800? Needs a paint-job and AC fixed. So what's wrong with it?" He doesn't even wait before he adds, "Mind if I take a look?" And he's walking toward the indicated van already. "I can probably handle the AC. I mean, not charging it, but swappin' out leaky pipes." The brusque note might be taken as offensive, but generally seems to just be curt. "You got a light-bar? Sometimes good to have more illum." Along with the brusqueness and the ready stance, the vocabulary suggests ex-military.

* * *

Serenity quickly nods, "Sure. One sec. Lemme grab the keys and the flashlight." She quickly heads into the office. A few moments later she is back with the key for the van and a very large very bright flashlight. "Okay, Whats wrong with it, Well it needs some body work, cosmetically its a bit rough but she will run like a champ. The engine has about Hundred fifty thousand miles on it. Some jackass totalled their corvette. I salvaged the engine and thats what is in it. I worked on it. Otherwise it would have been scrapped with the car." She hands over the key to the man, "Here you are. Give it a listen. I do fairly good work and… Well this is a bit of a hobby for me at this point. I don't exactly get to do a lot outside of the yard."

* * *

Frank nods at Serenity's hold, but when she comes back, he's already on his back on the dirt, peering under the engine block with his own flashlight. The opening of his trenchcoat as he lays down shows a heavy knife at his belt. "Don't much care about body damage." On himself or on a vehicle. He glances over to the extended key, and then grabs the bumper and hauls himself up, taking the key with a grunt, "Thanks." Around the door, he unlocks it and hauls himself in, starting it up and listening in, "You get a lot of business from Capes down here, ma'am?"

* * *

The engine fires up and despite it being a v8 its actually on the quiet side. Whats more, its smooth. There are no misses. no knocking… Nothing. It just sounds right.

Then there is the question about capes, "Well, None that I know of. Not like anyone drops in around here rocking cowels and tool belts. We get some GCPD here from time to time, mostly when we have to call them… Or some smartass decides we are ripping them off and accuses us of theft." She shrugs, "It must be a pretty cool life though. Helping people, saving lives and stuff. Would be a heck of a gig. But, you know how it goes. Not everyone comes out rocking laser eyes or flying around the skies. I just mess with computers and vehicles."

* * *

Frank listens to the engine, frowning a little, then nodding to himself. He checks to make sure the e-brake is on, shifts it into neutral, and races the engine a little to hear it work. The results cause him to nod again with apparent satisfaction, and he starts flipping on headlights, turn signals, checking behind him for the glow of brakelights, generally testing the thing out with every expectation that it works. "Pretty sure you'd know. Hard to explain road rash on your bike four or five times running unless you're sliding it into shitbirds." Something about her description of the Capes, however, draws a smirking snort of amusement, even if the expression fades from his features quickly, "You think the Big Bad Bat has powers? Me, I figure he's just a normal guy with a good sense of tactics and psyops. And someone rich bankrolling him."

* * *

Serenity snickers, "That could be. I do my best to avoid the Bat. From what I've heard, he tends to kick a lot of ass. Especially with some of the more extreme types that come out of Arkham. Some of those guys are completely off their rockers. Ah well, not like they bother me too much anyway. I think I'd probably freak if some clown with an exaggerated smile busted in. Thats a whole different realm of madness from what I am used to." She smiles as she hears the engine wake up. Just something bout that sound always gets a smile. "Reminds me of the car my dad got me before he kinda got hurt. We worked on it for a while. I've been doing the same on my own when I'm not fixing up other vehicles."

* * *

"How many times you think he's thrown the clown into Arkham?" Frank's sour tone is clear in the question. "How many lives would he save if he just put a round between the asshole's eyes?" He shrugs that off, however, shutting the van down and tossing the keys back to Serenity. "Sorry, ma'am. Clearly ain't your problem." The mention of working on the car with her dad tightens his lips, and he grimaces a little as he climbs out of the van. "Sounds nice. What happened?" A little pause, "If you don't mind."

* * *

Serenity catches the keyes without a problem, "I think the reason he doesn't is because there is a line. What he does is dangerous, violent, and aggressive. What the clown does is dangerous, violent, and aggressive. The thing that separates them is how far they are willing to go. Plus if he would just kill him, its possible he would lose what makes him heroic. Or I could just have a romanticized view of things." She shrugs and smiles a little.

She looks down for a moment, showing that its a rough story. "A few years back, we had some people breaking in and stealing stuff from us. We had to get the dogs, My dad taught me to shoot, it was just a mess. We were finally making headway with the thieves and driving them off. Then one night, he got shot in side of the knee. The bullet exited and entered the calf on his other leg. He's not really been able to do much in the yard since."

* * *

Frank shrugs, "What good's a line if it gets people killed?" But then he shakes off that thought, grunting thoughtfully, perhaps even with some sympathy, at the story about her father, "Hit like that, can really fuck you up. I knew some guys, took hits like that. Sometimes I think it does more to you than an arm." He hesitates a moment, considering, then nods, "Sorry to hear it, ma'am. Between then and now, you ain't had much trouble with them? So this new gang, just moved into the area? You know what they're called?"

* * *

Serenity just shrugs, "Its alright. Since then I've had to get a lot tougher. Those thieves wound up in jail. One of them missing a chunk out of their pants courtesy of one of the dogs. It was a very difficult time." She takes a deep breath and then lets out a sigh. "Oh those guys? They told me but honestly, I didn't pay much attention. There is a new gang popping up around here every few weeks. Some of them try to come in here to cause trouble. Others learn and keep away. These guys? They are a joke. All bluster. I prefer not to use a gun when I don't need to. Things tend to change when you pull one of those. I was taught to accurately miss targets. My dad said something about not wanting me to lose a part of myself by ending anyone. I don't really wanna do that anyway. Its why I try to stick to flinging hubcaps and using crowbars to get the point across."

* * *

"Some people don't have a problem puttin' someone down if they've gotta go," Frank's voice sounds like he's had a pack-a-day and fifth-a-day habit since he was twelve. "Some people do. Takes skill to put out a warning shot that don't threaten anyone else." He considers the van for a long moment, "You got painting gear on-site I could rent from you?" He shrugs slightly, "Don't wanna buy that shit myself just for one job." There's a pause, then he adds with a little hesitation, "They give you too much trouble and you gotta call the cops, make sure you go through to Central." She probably knows at least as well as he does how corrupt many of the GCPD are. "They're not quite the shitheads a lot of 'em are."

* * *

Serenity nods, "Oh yeah. No problem." She points the man towards a well worn garage. The smell of a plethora of vehicle fluids and of course paint fill the air around it. "Right in there. I don't mind. We have a few colors in there. The basics, like black, white, red, blue, and green. Stuff people usually like." She smiles a little.

"Yeah I do my best to avoid calling the GCPD. They tend to be a bit on the jerk side at times. And don't get me started on that big detective! That guy is kinda prickish but he at least seems pretty clean." She smiles. "Anyhoo. I can rent ya that stuff easy enough. Just gotta cover the paint and stuff so… I will say about 50 total if you are intending to paint the van."

* * *

"Yeah. I got the basics, but nothin' fancy. Black's good." Says the man wearing a black trenchcoat, black jeans, and a white t-shirt. Frank considers the comment about the big detective, his eyes narrowing slightly, "Big detective, kinda prickish, permanent five o'clock shadow, dumbass hipster hat? Sounds like Bullock." Or, as Frank knows him, 'Uncle Harvey.' He's never officially met the guy, just avoided him a whole lot. And driven in his car. Things get weird sometimes in Gotham. Also, Harvey was wearing that hat before the hipsters even heard of the style. "He's an ass, but he's not bad. Not like some of the shitheads." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a roll of bills, starting to peel them off. Hundreds and then a few fifties. He considers a few moments, then pulls out another fifty bucks past the $850 so far, "Don't need to sign over the registration or anything?"

* * *

"Thats the guy!" She laughs about the hat comment, "OH thank you! Nice doing business. I will go get the title and registration to sign over to you. You'll have to get that part done elsewhere. I can't do it here sadly. Still We can sign off on it and stuff." With that she gives him the key and heads back to the office.

A few minutes later she comes back with a receipt, the title and the current registration. "Okay just need to you to sign on each of these. Oh and this is for you too. For records. I will sign it once you're done."

* * *

Frank frowns slightly, confusion flashing through his eyes even as he takes the key. "Oh… I thought maybe you could just sign off on it. Don't figure I need to sign it. Not like I'm goin' to sell the thing. Need it to get to work." And to haul illegal firearms and the bodies of wounded friends and dead enemies and… lots of other things that he doesn't want associated with the clean ID that was set up for him. The bill was a good deal smaller when he tucked it back into his pocket, but his hand goes back to that pocket again. "Or maybe I'll sign it all later." He doesn't do cover-the-other-person's-ass very well. It's clear he's not going to sign them unless she insists.

* * *

Serenity looks at him and smiles, "Laws are laws. If ya don't sign it, I could have people breathing down my neck if anything happens. ANd I really don't like dealing with insurance companies. Please. Sign it. Mark it. Whatever just to show that it was purchased and I'm not liable for any accidents or anything." She smiles a little. She isn't going to take no for an answer on this one. She is however getting a pretty good picture that things may not be squeaky clean so, it could be signed as Pete or whatever and she'd be fine with it.

* * *

Frank grunts a little sourly, but he nods, popping open the van's door to use the dash as a very large clipboard. The signature says 'Pete C…' and then some squiggles that could include a t, a g, there's something dotted at the end. He's going to do something, he's going to do it right — ish. It's not like he's signing it 'Frank Castle.' He hefts the keys, looks up to his new van, then back to the young woman, "I got work this weekend. Back early next week? Earlier in the day, maybe? To do the painting."

* * *

Serenity smiles and accepts her copy of the paperwork and leaves the registration and title with Frank. "Oh thats fine. Do what you gotta do. If you decide to leave it here, I will make sure its safe. If you take it with ya, no problem. Pop in and you can get to work whenever. I'll make sure there is some fresh paint there too. I've been meaning to get some more anyway."

* * *

"Public transpo gets rough after a while." And there are too many cameras in the subway. Frank shrugs, "I'll come on back next week. Thanks, ma'am." He gets up into the driver's seat, tossing the paperwork on the seat beside him, then looks down to Serenity, "You can afford it, get a pump-action shotgun and rock salt loads. Stings like shit, but it won't kill anyone, no matter where you shoot 'em. And there ain't much scarier for some piece of shit thief than the sound of a slide bein' racked and dogs growling. Probably won't ever have to shoot anyone that way."

* * *

Serenity gives a smirk, "Sounds like a plan! Hey be safe out there, Pete." She smiles and gives a wave. "See you next week." With that she steps away. Its closing time and the dogs are getting tired of chomping plates. She quickly goes and gets some food for them and then once done, She locks up, Hops into her mini and heads out.

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