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They call me the writer man because I write sometimes.

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F R A N K C A S T L E C A S H I E R / R E T I R E D V I G I L A N T E N E W Y O R K C I T Y I N D E P E N D E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

"I'm just an old killer looking for an excuse. But I guess it's better than not needing one."

You know the basics already. Ten years ago, Frank Castle's family was murdered. He gave up his career as a detective to become the Punisher and take his revenge on the people who murdered his family. After killing those responsible, Frank continued his crusade on crime, waging a one-man war on the criminal underworld of New York City.

Except that's not what happened.

After killing the men responsible for his family's deaths and taking down an entire crime syndicate in the process, Frank called it quits. He got what he wanted. His short-lived career as the Punisher was over before it truly began. For the past decade, he's been Charles Forte, a middle-aged divorcee working as a convenience store cashier and living in a rundown apartment in the Bronx. Keeping a low profile and holding back that part of himself that wants to go back to vigilantism. But with a new gang moving in on his neighborhood, the Punisher might need to come out of retirement.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

Ah shit, here we go again.

To start off, I'll discuss my reasons for playing the character. It seems like every character I've tried since Punisher has flopped horrifically in some way or another. My attempt at Blade was half-baked and every time I tried to play the Question, I realized I had no idea how to write solo adventures with him. With that in mind, I decided to look back to my first character in one of these Hype style comic games: Frank Castle. Writing him was fun because I had an idea of where I wanted the story to go and I could write some cool ass action scenes along the way. It's pretty hard to mess up "angry man shoots bad guys". Since then, I've always wanted to return to the character. So, I figured "what the hell? I'll shoot my shot." And so once again I am asking to play the Punisher.

My story's gonna be simple and straightforward. Frank's retired, a new gang moves in on his neighborhood and starts trying to extort his employer, he decides to return as the Punisher to take them down. Pretty basic. Once that initial arc is finished, I'll probably focus on doing crossovers and maybe take a page from past me and have Frank go on a cross-country road trip like he did in Ultimate One Universe. The sky's the limit.

In terms of inspirations (because I always have those), first and foremost I'm trying to recapture the spirit of my original Punisher run. So as it was there, John Woo's heroic bloodshed films are the primary inspiration. Beyond that, there's also Max Payne 3, Logan, and The Dark Knight Returns, all of which feature that archetypal "old man returns to being a badass" storyline that I'm doing with this run. As usual, you can expect some recommended listening tracks with my posts every once in a while.

So yeah, that's that. I'll try not to flake out again, folks.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Supporting characters list TBA.

S A M P L E P O S T:

P O S T C A T A L O G:

  • Issue #0: Exhale
You know, I'm feeling in the zone so I may regret this, but I think I'm gonna try a second character.

You actually went and did it, you mad fuckin lad.
Added a sample post to my sheet. Not my best work but I'm hoping it's good enough.
<Snipped quote by Simple Unicycle>

It just means I'll use a Punisher hider for my inevitable Howard app.

Can't wait. Throw a picture of Chow Yun Fat in there for me too.

And God I missed this.


Would you get my hopes up like that, my son?

I had to do it to 'em.
EDIT: Sample post has been added.

... Is it that time again? I'm thinking it's that time again. Hopefully won't flake out for the fifty-seventh time in a row.

Location and Time: Hub City, Illinois; Aristotle Rodor's Home - 3:17 AM; Two Months Ago
Issue #1: Triage At Dawn

Interaction(s): None
Previously: Run

I give a muffled grunt of pain, biting deeper into the dishrag Tot gave me. It turned out that hit to the head gave me a pretty hefty gash and it needed stitches. Can't risk going to a hospital these days, too many sick with the Malkovian Virus. If I didn't have Tot, I think I would have taken my chances with an untreated head wound rather than risk catching that thing. "Shid, carnt yew wark any fasher?" I ask around a mouthful of cotton. Tot quirks a brow, indicating he didn't make that out. He sets the suture and needle down before pulling the cloth out of my mouth, leaning in closer and cupping a hand around his ear to hear me better. "I said 'shit, can't you work any faster?' This fucking sucks, Tot."

"You know what else 'fucking sucks', Charlie? Being woken up at two-thirty in the morning to tend to the wounds of my idiot protege." He shakes his head and gives a "tsk". "I'm not as young as you. I can't go days on end without sleeping. We can't all be unwavering machinations of some ungodly force like you are." Tot smiles slightly and I can't help but give a grin back.

"Point taken, old man. And for the record, I've been sleeping better lately. Got a full eight hours the other night," I add with a cocky grin. Of course, that's a lie and Rodor gives me a pointed look for it. The truth is my sleep has been getting worse. Insomnia has plagued me since my late teens but it's never been this bad. Last month I went for two weeks with only little scraps of sleep every few days to recuperate. It left me wondering if I was going to die. I finally sigh at Rodor's disapproving look and shrug. "Okay, I slept for three hours two days ago. Haven't slept since."

Tot merely shakes his head again, then picks up the suture to get right back to stitching my wound shut. Another pained grunt from me. Tot doesn't even blink at it. Just keeps on stitching. "You stopped drinking coffee before you went to bed, right?"


"No TV or other such electronics."


"Have you been taking those sleeping pills your doctor prescribed to you?"

"They haven't work- agh! They haven't worked. I haven't taken them since last month."

"Try them again."

"Oh, come on, Tot. If they were gonna work they would- fuck! They would have worked last time."

"Try them again."

"... You know talking to you is like talking to a brick wall?"

"I could say the same of you."

It wasn't long before Tot had finished stitching my wound up and I was popping a few painkillers. This isn't the first time he's played doctor for me. Back in college, I used to get into fights almost daily. Sometimes it was a broken finger or two, sometimes a busted lip, sometimes a broken nose. Once I had to get him to stitch up a stab wound. I still have the scar from that, right next to my belly button. Getting it stitched up was so painful that I bawled my eyes out between curses and prayers to God. I don't think I've ever cried that much in my life.

I cooked breakfast as a thank you while Tot brewed coffee. I set down two plates of eggs and bacon on the dining table while Rodor set down a cup of coffee next to each plate. We both took our seats and I immediately went for the sugar shaker, pouring greedy amounts of the sweet dust into my coffee. "Are you sure you don't want coffee with that sugar, Charlie?" he asks. I don't answer. Too busy giving my coffee the consistency of syrup. Tot simply shakes his head.

I finish pouring the sugar into my coffee and begin to stir it. Tot quirks a brow at me. "So tell me. Who gave you that wound?"

I stop stirring my drink and lift the mug, staring into it for a moment. "Some no good asshole in Hupert Square. He and two of his buddies tried robbing me. You think this was bad? Well, one of them is gonna have to be eating out of a tube until Christmas." I took a drink of my coffee, feeling my teeth slowly rotting from the excess amounts of sugar. Perfect.

Tot takes a sip from his coffee. "You've been getting angrier since the pandemic broke out. And now, you're beating up muggers in the park. Why is that?"

That gives me pause. I don't have to think about my answer. I don't even really need to think about whether to tell Tot or not. The man knows me better than I know myself half the time. Might as well tell him. "... I don't know. I think it's this pandemic. Ever since it's started, I've been looking out my window and seeing all sorts of things. Robbery. Mugging. Assaults. Drug deals. Rioting. This city isn't exactly paradise, but lately, it's given Gotham or Detroit a run for their money with all this crime." I clench my fist. "I feel like I need to do something but I don't know what."

Tot takes a deep breath through his nose at my response, as if stopping himself from saying something because he's waiting for me to finish. "Really?" he says. There's no tone in it but I know what he's doing. He's being condescending. I can already tell. He's acting like I'm some fucking toddler babbling nonsense and he's playing along.

A hot burst of rage rips through me. He thinks that I'm lying through my teeth. Thinks I'm shoveling bullshit right at him. "Let me guess. Out of character, right? I'm the fucking punk that used to break into houses to steal jewelry and TVs and pawn them off. I used to beat the shit out of all the rich kids in college to feel better about myself. I used to abuse drugs and alcohol because I thought it was fun and would enrichen my life. And now suddenly, I have all this righteous rage over the injustices this city is facing. What a fucking joke, right?" Rodor continues to stare at me while I rant and rave at him. It just pisses me off more. "You're trying to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at me. I know you are. Laugh at me! Laugh at me because you think I'm lying you old fucking prick!"

Tot's passive expression morphs into an icy glare and it's enough to stop my rant in its tracks. "You're delusional, Charlie. I don't think that at all and I'm insulted that you think I do. I know you. It doesn't matter how much you keep it buried, I know how much you hate seeing people gain from the suffering of others. You did it and all it did was make you hate yourself and anyone who was like you. Right?" I look down at his words, slightly ashamed. "Right?"

I give a shaky nod in response. He is right. I'm a fucking mess. I'm not some righteous crusader leading the charge against the wicked. I'm just some asshole projecting his self-loathing onto criminals. I'm a joke. Tot might not think it, but I do. "... It's not just that, Tot. I do want to do something about the state of this city. Something I can't do as Vic Sage. I want to take it down from the source. Stop criminals before they have a chance to do anything instead of just telling people about it. Everyone already knows this city's a shithole, but no one has been doing anything about it."

"What do you have in mind, Charlie?"

"What does it sound like? Vigilantism. I want to go out and do what I did tonight. Find crimes, stop them before they happen." I say, then find myself giving a disappointed sigh at my own words. Saying it out loud makes me feel like an idiot. This is the start of some bad Taxi Driver rip-off. What would they call it? Investigative Journalist? No, that doesn't roll off the tongue that well. Starting to wish I went to med school instead. That opens the door for a lot of cool titles.

"That sounds like a terrible idea, Charlie. You could get killed." I should have known he'd say that. Leave it to Rodor to call me out on my dumb ideas. I turn away and take a sip from my coffee, now cold after I ignored it for so long. Rodor's disapproval doesn't mean I won't do it of course because I know I have Tot to fall back on. That's the cycle of our relationship: Tot warns me not to do something, I do it, he patches me up while he says "I told you so." Rodor seems to pick up on what I'm thinking because he sighs and rolls his eyes. "... Who the hell am I kidding? You're going to do it anyway. I might as well try and help you do it properly."

I smile at that. Leave it to Tot to have my back. "I had a feeling you'd say that." I yawn slightly and find myself feeling genuinely sleepy for the first time in a while. I guess the excitement of tonight had finally calmed down and I could sleep again. "... If you'll excuse me, your couch and I have an important meeting to attend to," I say, standing up from the table and heading to Tot's living room.

I can't see it, but I can feel Tot shaking his head and tutting in disapproval. "Of course you do. Sleep well, Charlie. You need it."

"You've never been more right in your life, Rodor!" I call out, before collapsing face-first onto the sofa.

I'm out like a light in seconds.
Friday's sooner, so I vote Friday.
<Snipped quote by Simple Unicycle>

There was more yesterday.

Yeah, I believe it.
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