ENTER THE EXHIBITION HALL

[museums-and-broken-bones]

An MHA OC roleplay blog that will likely fluctuate in activity due to real life responsibilities!

I haven't roleplayed in a while, and certainly not on Tumblr, so it'll take a while to get my bearings. I used to be a semi-literate roleplayer with occasional literate roleplay attempts, so expect answers of that kind.

Mun (main is @eggsnatcheskneecaps , you will have interactions from there and you can just call me Egg. He/They.) is an adult and comfortable with mature topics. However, I'm aroace and same goes for my character, so I'll steer clear from romances. It's not something I can even trust to write properly nor understand. If you want to do something one-sided it could be interesting and I'm not opposed tho!

Additionally, English isn't my first language, so there might be occasional mistakes in my writing that I hope you'll understand.

I personally default to writing my OC pre-timeskip, but I'm flexible.

I also run a blog for another OC within the same universe. He's a hero course student.

About OC (Vigilante profile)

About OC (Civilian profile)

About OC (Post-time skip)

About AU

About tag system

Credits

[sheikahfication]

I will find you in every lifetime (threat)

[throatoftheworld]

Fugit inreparabile tempus by Saprophial, 2021

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Afflicted with wants to design OC so so bad, but is too intimidated too

Woe post time skip Muse be upon ye

I'm still trying to figure out how their scarring would go on the face, but if you know what Lichtenberg scarring is, you know what's going on. I tried to follow facial vein patterns with the scars, but that was not super easy...

I'm also debating between glass eye or something like the cataract they have in this drawing. Either way they are blind on a side post time skip.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

[mrfrogmemes]

Reblog if you're a safe RP partner to say NO to!

Some people are afraid to say no or are afraid that you will get mad at them! This is to say that you would prefer people politely tell you NO if they don't want to do something!

Don't know how to say no? Here are some ways that shouldn't hurt anyone's feelings:

I'm not really feeling that idea, but maybe we could do (blank) instead

Maybe another time / not right now / I don't have the bandwidth for that kind of plot right now / that's not the type of thing I was really looking for but I'd love to do something else / I'm not currently looking for more threads / It's better for me if we just focus on what we have for now / hmmm what if we did (blank) instead / maybe another time!

Variations of these!

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Ok the thread is getting quite big so I'm going to cut it down for size if you don't mind))

Muse let him walk a bit before they'd interrupt again. Hearing the staggered breathing was enough for them as is, but Frank looked much too worse for wear for them to feel comfortable letting him go off to die somewhere.

They approached from behind, stopping right before they'd touch the bigger vigilante "[Listen. Where are you going?]" They started speaking, trying to choose their words carefully "[I could support you til there.]"

Maybe they could get him something to drink with that amount of blood loss? Unless his stomach was perforated, of course...

They also had half a mind for first aid. They had learned to patch up themselves in order to avoid too many hospital visits after rough nights. The only problem was the current lack of medical supplies.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

This other vigilante was too close for comfort. Frank just needed to get back to his van, grab his medical supplies and stitch himself up. That was all he needed.

“[I’m going to patch myself up.]” This vigilante was not going to follow him. Not if he had a say in the matter. He was more than capable of getting there. It was a 10 minute walk at maximum. And then once he was in his van, he’d be fine.

He didn’t need help to get there. Sure, he might be bleeding out, but he had worse. Times where he was at death’s door, practically dying. He remembered all of those times, and this wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t unconscious, or seeing his wife.

And those were the only signs he needed.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse frowned underneath their helmet. They definitely understood not wanting someone following one around... But in this specific case?

"[You're going to go die off like some sick dog.]" they answered in a harsher manner than they had spoken before, but their tone was rather matter of fact, if a bit pushy. Careful, gotta not get to the tone they have when they end up watching out for those 2-B kids. Against Muse's will, that is.

They've heard of other vigilantes getting offed stupidly. Informants, too. Hell, they almost died in some dark alley before.

...Besides, they may still have a use out of Frank being alive.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He scoffed before licking his lips, keeping his gaze away from the other vigilante. “[Yeah. Maybe. Or I have a fucking plan.]”

The nerve this person amazed Frank. People didn’t typically stand up to the person who had a gun on them. Especially when they had seen that the gun. It took a certain amount of nerve to do that.

Even while he was bleeding out, Frank was dangerous. He had proven that much to people. He had killed people while he was at death’s door, already knocking. In between the brief moments of unconscious while he was in the midst of torture. Of dealing with things most people couldn’t fathom.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I sure would hope so.]" Muse answered exasperated "[But so far you didn't even seem to have a plan of getting yourself out of rubble. You're lucky I had an interest in the explosions out here.]" To be sincere, they were hoping for a bunch of dead bodies to identify. Track them back to a local gang. It really did sound like that much of a shoot-out.

Muse ever so slightly moved away from him as they were gesticulating. Mostly getting out of the area where they could get punched. They could tell they were likely irking the man, but they weren't particularly worried about combat with him considering he had to rely on guns, and perhaps fists. The vigilante's quirk would make sure he couldn't do that....

Even so. Their suit was equipped to defend them against some nasty hits. The man was heavily injured, as well.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[Heroes would’ve found me.]” And then he’d end up with some DNA scan. Less than ideal. A man on the run from a different government, found by another government. The prints would probably line up, and then Frank would be facing a whole other problem.

Frank felt around for his knife, making sure that one hadn’t been lost in the rubble. Finding it on his belt, he immediately let his hand drop.

He had a gun and a knife. That was all he needed to fight. If he needed to fight. His knife was preferred against some of the people he went against, but his guns were useful against most. Always were. So long as they had ammunition, he would have many different ways to use them.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I find it hard to believe a man like you would actually want to rely on heroes.]" Whenever he was a vigilante or a villain didn't matter, why in the hell would you risk that?

Muse wouldn't let the police or heroes catch them in a thousand years. That'd certainly end their activities. Their work was far too important for that...

And their dislike of heroes certainly added to the reasoning. Heroes were nothing good.

"[Just... Just let me assist you til you patch up.]" They sighed. They would have pinched their nose if it wasn't for the helmet. Instead, their fingers just hovered up near their head. "[Then, I'll leave. I don't have a reason to trust you won't drop dead from blood loss, or that someone else won't treat you like an easy target. The black market is right around the corner, you know?]"

That may have given away what they were doing before they got here, but whatever, probably most villains worth their salt knew by now where they could find Muse most nights. They did however hope their low-key suit would have them easily confused with at least 5 other vigilantes loitering around.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Ok the thread is getting quite big so I'm going to cut it down for size if you don't mind))

Muse let him walk a bit before they'd interrupt again. Hearing the staggered breathing was enough for them as is, but Frank looked much too worse for wear for them to feel comfortable letting him go off to die somewhere.

They approached from behind, stopping right before they'd touch the bigger vigilante "[Listen. Where are you going?]" They started speaking, trying to choose their words carefully "[I could support you til there.]"

Maybe they could get him something to drink with that amount of blood loss? Unless his stomach was perforated, of course...

They also had half a mind for first aid. They had learned to patch up themselves in order to avoid too many hospital visits after rough nights. The only problem was the current lack of medical supplies.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

This other vigilante was too close for comfort. Frank just needed to get back to his van, grab his medical supplies and stitch himself up. That was all he needed.

“[I’m going to patch myself up.]” This vigilante was not going to follow him. Not if he had a say in the matter. He was more than capable of getting there. It was a 10 minute walk at maximum. And then once he was in his van, he’d be fine.

He didn’t need help to get there. Sure, he might be bleeding out, but he had worse. Times where he was at death’s door, practically dying. He remembered all of those times, and this wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t unconscious, or seeing his wife.

And those were the only signs he needed.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse frowned underneath their helmet. They definitely understood not wanting someone following one around... But in this specific case?

"[You're going to go die off like some sick dog.]" they answered in a harsher manner than they had spoken before, but their tone was rather matter of fact, if a bit pushy. Careful, gotta not get to the tone they have when they end up watching out for those 2-B kids. Against Muse's will, that is.

They've heard of other vigilantes getting offed stupidly. Informants, too. Hell, they almost died in some dark alley before.

...Besides, they may still have a use out of Frank being alive.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He scoffed before licking his lips, keeping his gaze away from the other vigilante. “[Yeah. Maybe. Or I have a fucking plan.]”

The nerve this person amazed Frank. People didn’t typically stand up to the person who had a gun on them. Especially when they had seen that the gun. It took a certain amount of nerve to do that.

Even while he was bleeding out, Frank was dangerous. He had proven that much to people. He had killed people while he was at death’s door, already knocking. In between the brief moments of unconscious while he was in the midst of torture. Of dealing with things most people couldn’t fathom.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I sure would hope so.]" Muse answered exasperated "[But so far you didn't even seem to have a plan of getting yourself out of rubble. You're lucky I had an interest in the explosions out here.]" To be sincere, they were hoping for a bunch of dead bodies to identify. Track them back to a local gang. It really did sound like that much of a shoot-out.

Muse ever so slightly moved away from him as they were gesticulating. Mostly getting out of the area where they could get punched. They could tell they were likely irking the man, but they weren't particularly worried about combat with him considering he had to rely on guns, and perhaps fists. The vigilante's quirk would make sure he couldn't do that....

Even so. Their suit was equipped to defend them against some nasty hits. The man was heavily injured, as well.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Ok the thread is getting quite big so I'm going to cut it down for size if you don't mind))

Muse let him walk a bit before they'd interrupt again. Hearing the staggered breathing was enough for them as is, but Frank looked much too worse for wear for them to feel comfortable letting him go off to die somewhere.

They approached from behind, stopping right before they'd touch the bigger vigilante "[Listen. Where are you going?]" They started speaking, trying to choose their words carefully "[I could support you til there.]"

Maybe they could get him something to drink with that amount of blood loss? Unless his stomach was perforated, of course...

They also had half a mind for first aid. They had learned to patch up themselves in order to avoid too many hospital visits after rough nights. The only problem was the current lack of medical supplies.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

This other vigilante was too close for comfort. Frank just needed to get back to his van, grab his medical supplies and stitch himself up. That was all he needed.

“[I’m going to patch myself up.]” This vigilante was not going to follow him. Not if he had a say in the matter. He was more than capable of getting there. It was a 10 minute walk at maximum. And then once he was in his van, he’d be fine.

He didn’t need help to get there. Sure, he might be bleeding out, but he had worse. Times where he was at death’s door, practically dying. He remembered all of those times, and this wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t unconscious, or seeing his wife.

And those were the only signs he needed.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse frowned underneath their helmet. They definitely understood not wanting someone following one around... But in this specific case?

"[You're going to go die off like some sick dog.]" they answered in a harsher manner than they had spoken before, but their tone was rather matter of fact, if a bit pushy. Careful, gotta not get to the tone they have when they end up watching out for those 2-B kids. Against Muse's will, that is.

They've heard of other vigilantes getting offed stupidly. Informants, too. Hell, they almost died in some dark alley before.

...Besides, they may still have a use out of Frank being alive.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Ok the thread is getting quite big so I'm going to cut it down for size if you don't mind))

Muse let him walk a bit before they'd interrupt again. Hearing the staggered breathing was enough for them as is, but Frank looked much too worse for wear for them to feel comfortable letting him go off to die somewhere.

They approached from behind, stopping right before they'd touch the bigger vigilante "[Listen. Where are you going?]" They started speaking, trying to choose their words carefully "[I could support you til there.]"

Maybe they could get him something to drink with that amount of blood loss? Unless his stomach was perforated, of course...

They also had half a mind for first aid. They had learned to patch up themselves in order to avoid too many hospital visits after rough nights. The only problem was the current lack of medical supplies.

[duckbunny]

fun fact about character development by the way. you can make them develop worse.

[duckbunny]

like I mean this very seriously as writing advice. the character should experience events and make decisions that make them different at the end of the story. they should be changed. they do not have to be improved.

they can get worse. they can make decisions of an increasingly terrible nature. they can stop taking risks on kindness. they can discover how much they can get away with. they can find religion, or abandon it, with negative effects on their moral creed. the character has to develop. the character does not have to grow.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Tsune sighed, and rested their weight on the front of their motorcycle. They just got out of work, and they were spent. Nothing out of the ordinary happened today; just the average loud kids in the museum halls, and laboratory work in the back. It was just the constant cycle of work by day, vigilantism by night that they theoretically knew wasn't the best, but they couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop.

Their stomach growled loudly. Right. Did they forget to eat? They were hungry either way.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The vigilante entered the alleyway cautiously. They had heard a lot of ruckus from this direction while they were busy at the black market, and they barely managed to catch up. They didn't want to get into any trouble, especially at this hour of the night when their sleep deprivation would catch up to them, but they also wanted to be up to date with whatever was happening. If a gang they were keeping tabs on got into a firefight, this would be important.

On a quick look, there didn't seem to be any civilians or villains left around; good.

...Wait. Is that someone under the rubble? Great.

The masked vigilante approached and knelt down in order to check his vitals, but the guy seemed awake. "Any bad injuries?" Muse didn't bother introducing themselves this time around.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank glared at the person who owners the voice talking to him. Even with the amount of blood streaming into his eyes, he still chose to be a dick. His need for help could never completely outweigh his thoughts on people. He couldn’t make out the face.

What even was the point of the mask? Never owning up to their choices, their mistakes. When Frank went into fights, he typically chose to show his face. To own it. He wanted people to know as the died that is was to the Punisher. The only time he wore a mask was when he needed to hide, blend in with everyone.

With the blood loss, Frank’s ability to catch most of what was being said to him was also lost. Japanese wasn’t his forte, that was for sure. “Eh, [the hell do you want?]” He slipped into English, still searching for the right words in the correct language.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse stopped their movements for a second. English? Well, they didn't expect to run into a foreigner, but now that they could see the face better, it was obvious. How in the hell did somebody all the way from Europe or America end up under rubble in Japan was a different conversation, however. Neither was it the focus right now.

"[Bad injuries. Do you have any?]" The vigilante quickly switched to English. They've traveled outside Japan several times, and they read research in that language all the time. It was an easy and natural switch. If they carried any accent, it wasn't too thick, although it might not be noticeable due to the voice modifier equipped with the helmet. Unbeknownst to Muse, their entire get up - helmet, dark costume, voice modifier - that is everything they used to keep their real identity hidden - must be irking the other man.

They moved to push some of the rubble off. It was proving surprisingly heavy.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Well, at least there wasn’t going to be a communication barrier as he was bleeding out. That was great. “[It’s nothing I don’t have handled. I just can’t get up with this damn building on me.]”

The lack of respect he had for the person showed through his tone of voice, though the expletives were just a normal additive in his speech. All he wanted was to get up and get back to taking care of the damn villains that the heroes seemed so keen to just lock up until another inevitable break out. The system was flawed, but he knew how to take care of the problem.

Which was why he had a few guns on him. Illegal, the same as him.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[That's good...]" Muse replied as they stepped around the mess; trying to figure out what to wrestle off, and in what way.

Sticky ground.

They stopped, looking down, and slightly lifting their foot. "[You're bleeding.]" For the blood to be reaching them, it must be a considerable amount "[A lot. What happened to you?]"

The vigilante was also curious about who this man was. They saw the guns, but decided not to ask about them. They didn't want to provoke. How come their informants didn't mention anything about this person yet? They'd love to pry this information out of the man.

Muse managed to push off a bigger part of the hubris, making sure it'd fall away from him and onto the pavement.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[The fuck do you think happened?]” He believed it was pretty obvious, given the fact that a whole building had fallen down onto him. It wasn’t that often of an occurrence, but it was a pretty obvious tell. “[Because it looks pretty damn obvious to me.]”

With the biggest piece pushed off of his body, Frank was able to push away the rest of the debris, standing up with only some difficulty. It hurt like hell, which wasn’t a good sign given his pain tolerance. Especially with the sheer amount of blood the was coming from the wounds he had sustained. Any minute now, he knew he’d be worse for wear. Unable to walk.

At least the adrenaline in his system was keeping him functioning. Sure, he was definitely going to have a limp, but he was up and moving.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

They sighed "[I meant who did this to you? I can only tell so much from a bunch of rubble.]" They resisted the urge to sass the guy. Those look like some grievous injuries; would make a lot of people into assholes.

"[I'm assuming you're not going to get medical assistance anytime soon.]" Definitely doesn't look like a guy who'd want to get tangled with the authorities. "[Here]" they took out from their suit's pockets some bandages. They didn't have a lot of space for them - the priority was carrying their weapons - but they've been carrying some since they almost died... Back when they had their quirk awakening. They found carrying bandages was useful for other people as well, although they hated working in groups "[My name's Muse, by the way.]".

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[Frank.]” He introduced himself with the bare minimum, taking the bandages. He would have to make do with them, but after that he would definitely need to stitch himself up. With his arms majorly unharmed, he would be able to that much. So long as he managed to get out of there without passing out.

He grunted as he applied the first bandage. “[Would’ve thought the villain would have been obvious enough of a reason.]” The damage that the city had sustained in the fight meant he had enough time to at least answer the damn question. Besides, he had more bandages to apply.

The bandages could only do so much with the bleeding, especially with just how much blood Frank was losing.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I was looking for specifics.]" Muse grumbled as they checked the rubble for any signs of quirk use. At least that much may let them know who was throwing their weight around. Seeing as the man was relying on guns, he must not have a particularly offensive quirk, although he seemed to make up for that with how strong he looked. Or how resilient he must be to not be dropping dead by now.

"['Frank'... You're new. I haven't heard word of you yet.]" They were hoping they'd manage to get him to talk more about himself, but there didn't seem to be much luck so far.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[I’m not surprised.]” It was good that people didn’t recognise him here. It meant he blended in well enough, and hadn’t drawn any attention to the Punisher being in Japan.

Frank picked up one of his guns from the ground, letting out a struggled breath at the action. Yep, definitely broke something. At least it wasn’t his nose again, but something in his leg was broken and it hurt. From what it seemed like, it wasn’t a femur, but it was definitely something. And it wasn’t good. He wasn’t going to be able to work with that.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse cringed at the staggered movement and speech. This didn't look good at all, even with the tough guy attitude Frank was putting on.

"[What are you planning to do? You don't look like you should be moving like that.]" Perhaps they could help him make it to his hideout? Wherever that was. "[That guy left you alone instead of finishing you off]" the vigilante touched a point of impact on the rubble "[If I'm right in who that villain might be, he'll probably come back with his buddies for you.]" There were only so many villains in this area who'd leave these marks in the rubble, or be able to damage it this much. Then narrow it to what hour this happened at... Yes, there would only be a few fitting the profile.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He scoffed at the thought that he shouldn’t be moving the way he was. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he could, and that was all that mattered. “[I’ll find a place and patch myself up. Easy.]”

“[Those assholes ain’t coming back. I got a good few shots at them. They wouldn’t want to come back.]” If they did, he would have more fire coming for them. So long as they didn’t fuck up all of his guns, it’d be easy. And they’d be dead, just like they should be for causing senseless harm to civilians. For people who couldn’t fight back.

Oh, Frank would get them.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[You're not telling me you don't have an established place to rest, are you?] "

'You should really take that break after you got mangled like that, man.' is probably something they should REALLY tell this guy, but they were also not going to act like some baby sitter all night.

"[That might only make them angrier, but at least you sound confident.]" He must definitely have a lot of ammunition left.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He ignored the jab about not having a place to rest. Frank did. There was a place he was renting out. Cheap, but for what was in it, it was worth it. It had a bed and a place to wash up. Couldn’t ask for much more than that. Especially not with how distrusting people seemed of his face.

“[Confident? That’s an understatement.]” He knew he had scared them. If not, they wouldn’t have run the way they did. Those criminals knew that coming out of that encounter was a one time thing. If they came back, they would be gone. Frank knew that, and they knew that. The bullet wounds said it all.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The voice modifier crackled a little, as if Muse wanted to say something, but they went silent instead. They thought to ask the usual questions; about gangs or the people in the photographs that they keep in their suit... But Frank didn't seem trustworthy enough to them yet. They barely managed to get any information out of him. They could play the long run, wait for their informants to give them something.

The only thing the vigilante had to worry about was whenever this would be the only opportunity they'd ever get. If he's not surprised people don't talk about him then either he's new, good at hiding, or... Just that deadly.

"[Are you out here often?]" They tried to assess. Some vigilantes wouldn't like being asked this, but Muse figured they could try pushing their luck. They DID get the guy out of rubble and handed him bandages.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He huffed at the question. This person was digging deep, he could give them that. Trying to get all the details they could out of Frank, pull them out of him like it was just another bullet that got lodged. Really, it was impressive. Scary, but impressive. He’d need to keep his guard up for this vigilante. Seemed like one of the ones who wouldn’t simply let him go.

“[Nah, I’m not.]” Frank had only chosen to visit Japan to escape the US and the people looking for him. He needed to be safe, and to continue getting the job done. It was nice.

Though, he really fucking wished he chose somewhere with less villains who are practically immune to bullets.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"Hm..." Muse sounded displeased with Frank's answer, even through the voice modifier.

They stepped closer to the other vigilante, paying close attention to whenever his body language would become more aggressive or tense. Muse was shorter and much slimmer than him. Their dark helmet moved in the direction of the hubris. This alley was left in shambles.

"[But you seem to have left an impressive track behind. I don't think it'd be that hard to figure out where you've been.]" They mentally filed through their informants. Gears turning. "[You may not enjoy anonymity for long, Frank.]"

They weren't trying to seem malicious, although perhaps it may come off that way. Happens when a vigilante dressed in full black approaches you.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

With his build, it was like Frank practically towered over the other vigilante. He was a man of pure muscle and a staggering height. It wasn’t uncommon for him to tower over people. Even in a world of quirks, he managed to match up with people.

And the best part was that he was practically a normal guy. Sure, he had some military training and guns, but he didn’t have any quirk.

He licked his lips, nodding at what seemed to be a mild threat. “[Yeah, maybe, but that’s always a possibility. Though, I wouldn’t go about doing that. Not if I were you.]” Frank knew that he could figure out who this person was if he needed to. He had connections. And if this person ended up doing bad things, well… they’d receive their punishment.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[Ah, but I'm not trying anything. Stuff tends to naturally reach me, or it just falls into place.]" They shrugged. They would hope this man remains around the area long enough for them to actually gauge him properly. If he was related to gangs, which he could be, for all they knew, they didn't want to get all friendly just yet.

Well, Frank's reaction to them could have been worse than verbal defense. That was a start.

As for Muse's identity... That would be near impossible to figure out. They know exactly how to hide. Their costume is perfectly fit to keep that identity hidden. They know they have a lot to lose if all the gangs they pissed off were to figure out who they are in their daily life.

There would be hell to pay for the sheer audacity of getting in their way; shutting down their operations or causing the deaths of those vile idiots. They didn't kill often, but it has happened, and it'll happen again if only in self defense.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

It wouldn’t fall into place if Frank had a say on the matter. Not being outed for his identity was one few things he was trying to keep as a constant. He rather enjoyed not being chased by the government at every turn. At least right now.

Sure, once his government caught wind of the fact that the Punisher had decided to go to Japan, it was over. The hunt would start and he would be found. But the small calm he felt now was nice. Just killing the people who deserved it.

“[Don’t find out. It’s better if you don’t know.]”

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse hummed as they lowered their helmet. If they didn't know better, that could have come off as ever so slightly protective.

They understood the warning for what it was, but at the point they were at, it was better to be ahead. It was inevitable he'd piss off enough people that they'd go digging. Frank was very clearly not trying to hide his identity by at least covering his face, and if the mess after this fight was a signature, it definitely wouldn't be that hard. Well, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

They wondered if he'd be alive for long out here, although he very clearly tanked bleeding out under a bunch of rubble. Still, if this happens again, how many times is somebody going to help?

"[You're very clearly making more enemies than friends.]" They looked back up and the injuries he was patching. "[I'd be more careful if I were you.]"

Perhaps that much was already obvious with the way their costume looked.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[I don’t need careful.]” Truth be told, he managed to remain relatively careful. People didn’t go after him in Japan. Not often enough for it to count. If they did, it was because they believed he would be an easy target. Because he looked quirkless, and whenever he was covering up with his layers, there was no tell that he worked out.

He was just some foreign guy.

Frank scanned the area for his van—worse than the one he had back at home, but safe nonetheless—knowing he would need to hobble over to it to get gear and stitch up some wounds. He didn’t make a habit of carrying is med kit with him, not when he never strayed that far from his vehicle. Besides, he kept most of his guns in there. It wasn’t ideal to be carrying some of them around.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Well, he sure sounded like the cocky and headstrong type. No use in nagging him. They wanted to get along with him, at least for now.

Muse noticed Frank seemed to be looking for something, and they stepped out of his way. Their gaze swept over the street; just making sure no one else would come.

They would keep an eye on his movements. They weren't quite sure he wouldn't collapse at this rate... Although even then, they weren't sure what they could do. There were some shady clinics running out here, sure, but at that level of injury, he'd probably need an actual hospital. They couldn't exactly haul him to one, and this guy definitely didn't want emergency responders up his ass.

At least the bandages slowed down the bleeding if they weren't able to stop it.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Afflicted with wants to design OC so so bad, but is too intimidated too

Woe post time skip Muse be upon ye

I'm still trying to figure out how their scarring would go on the face, but if you know what Lichtenberg scarring is, you know what's going on. I tried to follow facial vein patterns with the scars, but that was not super easy...

I'm also debating between glass eye or something like the cataract they have in this drawing. Either way they are blind on a side post time skip.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The vigilante entered the alleyway cautiously. They had heard a lot of ruckus from this direction while they were busy at the black market, and they barely managed to catch up. They didn't want to get into any trouble, especially at this hour of the night when their sleep deprivation would catch up to them, but they also wanted to be up to date with whatever was happening. If a gang they were keeping tabs on got into a firefight, this would be important.

On a quick look, there didn't seem to be any civilians or villains left around; good.

...Wait. Is that someone under the rubble? Great.

The masked vigilante approached and knelt down in order to check his vitals, but the guy seemed awake. "Any bad injuries?" Muse didn't bother introducing themselves this time around.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank glared at the person who owners the voice talking to him. Even with the amount of blood streaming into his eyes, he still chose to be a dick. His need for help could never completely outweigh his thoughts on people. He couldn’t make out the face.

What even was the point of the mask? Never owning up to their choices, their mistakes. When Frank went into fights, he typically chose to show his face. To own it. He wanted people to know as the died that is was to the Punisher. The only time he wore a mask was when he needed to hide, blend in with everyone.

With the blood loss, Frank’s ability to catch most of what was being said to him was also lost. Japanese wasn’t his forte, that was for sure. “Eh, [the hell do you want?]” He slipped into English, still searching for the right words in the correct language.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse stopped their movements for a second. English? Well, they didn't expect to run into a foreigner, but now that they could see the face better, it was obvious. How in the hell did somebody all the way from Europe or America end up under rubble in Japan was a different conversation, however. Neither was it the focus right now.

"[Bad injuries. Do you have any?]" The vigilante quickly switched to English. They've traveled outside Japan several times, and they read research in that language all the time. It was an easy and natural switch. If they carried any accent, it wasn't too thick, although it might not be noticeable due to the voice modifier equipped with the helmet. Unbeknownst to Muse, their entire get up - helmet, dark costume, voice modifier - that is everything they used to keep their real identity hidden - must be irking the other man.

They moved to push some of the rubble off. It was proving surprisingly heavy.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Well, at least there wasn’t going to be a communication barrier as he was bleeding out. That was great. “[It’s nothing I don’t have handled. I just can’t get up with this damn building on me.]”

The lack of respect he had for the person showed through his tone of voice, though the expletives were just a normal additive in his speech. All he wanted was to get up and get back to taking care of the damn villains that the heroes seemed so keen to just lock up until another inevitable break out. The system was flawed, but he knew how to take care of the problem.

Which was why he had a few guns on him. Illegal, the same as him.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[That's good...]" Muse replied as they stepped around the mess; trying to figure out what to wrestle off, and in what way.

Sticky ground.

They stopped, looking down, and slightly lifting their foot. "[You're bleeding.]" For the blood to be reaching them, it must be a considerable amount "[A lot. What happened to you?]"

The vigilante was also curious about who this man was. They saw the guns, but decided not to ask about them. They didn't want to provoke. How come their informants didn't mention anything about this person yet? They'd love to pry this information out of the man.

Muse managed to push off a bigger part of the hubris, making sure it'd fall away from him and onto the pavement.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[The fuck do you think happened?]” He believed it was pretty obvious, given the fact that a whole building had fallen down onto him. It wasn’t that often of an occurrence, but it was a pretty obvious tell. “[Because it looks pretty damn obvious to me.]”

With the biggest piece pushed off of his body, Frank was able to push away the rest of the debris, standing up with only some difficulty. It hurt like hell, which wasn’t a good sign given his pain tolerance. Especially with the sheer amount of blood the was coming from the wounds he had sustained. Any minute now, he knew he’d be worse for wear. Unable to walk.

At least the adrenaline in his system was keeping him functioning. Sure, he was definitely going to have a limp, but he was up and moving.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

They sighed "[I meant who did this to you? I can only tell so much from a bunch of rubble.]" They resisted the urge to sass the guy. Those look like some grievous injuries; would make a lot of people into assholes.

"[I'm assuming you're not going to get medical assistance anytime soon.]" Definitely doesn't look like a guy who'd want to get tangled with the authorities. "[Here]" they took out from their suit's pockets some bandages. They didn't have a lot of space for them - the priority was carrying their weapons - but they've been carrying some since they almost died... Back when they had their quirk awakening. They found carrying bandages was useful for other people as well, although they hated working in groups "[My name's Muse, by the way.]".

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[Frank.]” He introduced himself with the bare minimum, taking the bandages. He would have to make do with them, but after that he would definitely need to stitch himself up. With his arms majorly unharmed, he would be able to that much. So long as he managed to get out of there without passing out.

He grunted as he applied the first bandage. “[Would’ve thought the villain would have been obvious enough of a reason.]” The damage that the city had sustained in the fight meant he had enough time to at least answer the damn question. Besides, he had more bandages to apply.

The bandages could only do so much with the bleeding, especially with just how much blood Frank was losing.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I was looking for specifics.]" Muse grumbled as they checked the rubble for any signs of quirk use. At least that much may let them know who was throwing their weight around. Seeing as the man was relying on guns, he must not have a particularly offensive quirk, although he seemed to make up for that with how strong he looked. Or how resilient he must be to not be dropping dead by now.

"['Frank'... You're new. I haven't heard word of you yet.]" They were hoping they'd manage to get him to talk more about himself, but there didn't seem to be much luck so far.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[I’m not surprised.]” It was good that people didn’t recognise him here. It meant he blended in well enough, and hadn’t drawn any attention to the Punisher being in Japan.

Frank picked up one of his guns from the ground, letting out a struggled breath at the action. Yep, definitely broke something. At least it wasn’t his nose again, but something in his leg was broken and it hurt. From what it seemed like, it wasn’t a femur, but it was definitely something. And it wasn’t good. He wasn’t going to be able to work with that.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse cringed at the staggered movement and speech. This didn't look good at all, even with the tough guy attitude Frank was putting on.

"[What are you planning to do? You don't look like you should be moving like that.]" Perhaps they could help him make it to his hideout? Wherever that was. "[That guy left you alone instead of finishing you off]" the vigilante touched a point of impact on the rubble "[If I'm right in who that villain might be, he'll probably come back with his buddies for you.]" There were only so many villains in this area who'd leave these marks in the rubble, or be able to damage it this much. Then narrow it to what hour this happened at... Yes, there would only be a few fitting the profile.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He scoffed at the thought that he shouldn’t be moving the way he was. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he could, and that was all that mattered. “[I’ll find a place and patch myself up. Easy.]”

“[Those assholes ain’t coming back. I got a good few shots at them. They wouldn’t want to come back.]” If they did, he would have more fire coming for them. So long as they didn’t fuck up all of his guns, it’d be easy. And they’d be dead, just like they should be for causing senseless harm to civilians. For people who couldn’t fight back.

Oh, Frank would get them.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[You're not telling me you don't have an established place to rest, are you?] "

'You should really take that break after you got mangled like that, man.' is probably something they should REALLY tell this guy, but they were also not going to act like some baby sitter all night.

"[That might only make them angrier, but at least you sound confident.]" He must definitely have a lot of ammunition left.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He ignored the jab about not having a place to rest. Frank did. There was a place he was renting out. Cheap, but for what was in it, it was worth it. It had a bed and a place to wash up. Couldn’t ask for much more than that. Especially not with how distrusting people seemed of his face.

“[Confident? That’s an understatement.]” He knew he had scared them. If not, they wouldn’t have run the way they did. Those criminals knew that coming out of that encounter was a one time thing. If they came back, they would be gone. Frank knew that, and they knew that. The bullet wounds said it all.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The voice modifier crackled a little, as if Muse wanted to say something, but they went silent instead. They thought to ask the usual questions; about gangs or the people in the photographs that they keep in their suit... But Frank didn't seem trustworthy enough to them yet. They barely managed to get any information out of him. They could play the long run, wait for their informants to give them something.

The only thing the vigilante had to worry about was whenever this would be the only opportunity they'd ever get. If he's not surprised people don't talk about him then either he's new, good at hiding, or... Just that deadly.

"[Are you out here often?]" They tried to assess. Some vigilantes wouldn't like being asked this, but Muse figured they could try pushing their luck. They DID get the guy out of rubble and handed him bandages.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He huffed at the question. This person was digging deep, he could give them that. Trying to get all the details they could out of Frank, pull them out of him like it was just another bullet that got lodged. Really, it was impressive. Scary, but impressive. He’d need to keep his guard up for this vigilante. Seemed like one of the ones who wouldn’t simply let him go.

“[Nah, I’m not.]” Frank had only chosen to visit Japan to escape the US and the people looking for him. He needed to be safe, and to continue getting the job done. It was nice.

Though, he really fucking wished he chose somewhere with less villains who are practically immune to bullets.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"Hm..." Muse sounded displeased with Frank's answer, even through the voice modifier.

They stepped closer to the other vigilante, paying close attention to whenever his body language would become more aggressive or tense. Muse was shorter and much slimmer than him. Their dark helmet moved in the direction of the hubris. This alley was left in shambles.

"[But you seem to have left an impressive track behind. I don't think it'd be that hard to figure out where you've been.]" They mentally filed through their informants. Gears turning. "[You may not enjoy anonymity for long, Frank.]"

They weren't trying to seem malicious, although perhaps it may come off that way. Happens when a vigilante dressed in full black approaches you.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

With his build, it was like Frank practically towered over the other vigilante. He was a man of pure muscle and a staggering height. It wasn’t uncommon for him to tower over people. Even in a world of quirks, he managed to match up with people.

And the best part was that he was practically a normal guy. Sure, he had some military training and guns, but he didn’t have any quirk.

He licked his lips, nodding at what seemed to be a mild threat. “[Yeah, maybe, but that’s always a possibility. Though, I wouldn’t go about doing that. Not if I were you.]” Frank knew that he could figure out who this person was if he needed to. He had connections. And if this person ended up doing bad things, well… they’d receive their punishment.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[Ah, but I'm not trying anything. Stuff tends to naturally reach me, or it just falls into place.]" They shrugged. They would hope this man remains around the area long enough for them to actually gauge him properly. If he was related to gangs, which he could be, for all they knew, they didn't want to get all friendly just yet.

Well, Frank's reaction to them could have been worse than verbal defense. That was a start.

As for Muse's identity... That would be near impossible to figure out. They know exactly how to hide. Their costume is perfectly fit to keep that identity hidden. They know they have a lot to lose if all the gangs they pissed off were to figure out who they are in their daily life.

There would be hell to pay for the sheer audacity of getting in their way; shutting down their operations or causing the deaths of those vile idiots. They didn't kill often, but it has happened, and it'll happen again if only in self defense.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

It wouldn’t fall into place if Frank had a say on the matter. Not being outed for his identity was one few things he was trying to keep as a constant. He rather enjoyed not being chased by the government at every turn. At least right now.

Sure, once his government caught wind of the fact that the Punisher had decided to go to Japan, it was over. The hunt would start and he would be found. But the small calm he felt now was nice. Just killing the people who deserved it.

“[Don’t find out. It’s better if you don’t know.]”

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse hummed as they lowered their helmet. If they didn't know better, that could have come off as ever so slightly protective.

They understood the warning for what it was, but at the point they were at, it was better to be ahead. It was inevitable he'd piss off enough people that they'd go digging. Frank was very clearly not trying to hide his identity by at least covering his face, and if the mess after this fight was a signature, it definitely wouldn't be that hard. Well, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

They wondered if he'd be alive for long out here, although he very clearly tanked bleeding out under a bunch of rubble. Still, if this happens again, how many times is somebody going to help?

"[You're very clearly making more enemies than friends.]" They looked back up and the injuries he was patching. "[I'd be more careful if I were you.]"

Perhaps that much was already obvious with the way their costume looked.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The vigilante entered the alleyway cautiously. They had heard a lot of ruckus from this direction while they were busy at the black market, and they barely managed to catch up. They didn't want to get into any trouble, especially at this hour of the night when their sleep deprivation would catch up to them, but they also wanted to be up to date with whatever was happening. If a gang they were keeping tabs on got into a firefight, this would be important.

On a quick look, there didn't seem to be any civilians or villains left around; good.

...Wait. Is that someone under the rubble? Great.

The masked vigilante approached and knelt down in order to check his vitals, but the guy seemed awake. "Any bad injuries?" Muse didn't bother introducing themselves this time around.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank glared at the person who owners the voice talking to him. Even with the amount of blood streaming into his eyes, he still chose to be a dick. His need for help could never completely outweigh his thoughts on people. He couldn’t make out the face.

What even was the point of the mask? Never owning up to their choices, their mistakes. When Frank went into fights, he typically chose to show his face. To own it. He wanted people to know as the died that is was to the Punisher. The only time he wore a mask was when he needed to hide, blend in with everyone.

With the blood loss, Frank’s ability to catch most of what was being said to him was also lost. Japanese wasn’t his forte, that was for sure. “Eh, [the hell do you want?]” He slipped into English, still searching for the right words in the correct language.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse stopped their movements for a second. English? Well, they didn't expect to run into a foreigner, but now that they could see the face better, it was obvious. How in the hell did somebody all the way from Europe or America end up under rubble in Japan was a different conversation, however. Neither was it the focus right now.

"[Bad injuries. Do you have any?]" The vigilante quickly switched to English. They've traveled outside Japan several times, and they read research in that language all the time. It was an easy and natural switch. If they carried any accent, it wasn't too thick, although it might not be noticeable due to the voice modifier equipped with the helmet. Unbeknownst to Muse, their entire get up - helmet, dark costume, voice modifier - that is everything they used to keep their real identity hidden - must be irking the other man.

They moved to push some of the rubble off. It was proving surprisingly heavy.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Well, at least there wasn’t going to be a communication barrier as he was bleeding out. That was great. “[It’s nothing I don’t have handled. I just can’t get up with this damn building on me.]”

The lack of respect he had for the person showed through his tone of voice, though the expletives were just a normal additive in his speech. All he wanted was to get up and get back to taking care of the damn villains that the heroes seemed so keen to just lock up until another inevitable break out. The system was flawed, but he knew how to take care of the problem.

Which was why he had a few guns on him. Illegal, the same as him.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[That's good...]" Muse replied as they stepped around the mess; trying to figure out what to wrestle off, and in what way.

Sticky ground.

They stopped, looking down, and slightly lifting their foot. "[You're bleeding.]" For the blood to be reaching them, it must be a considerable amount "[A lot. What happened to you?]"

The vigilante was also curious about who this man was. They saw the guns, but decided not to ask about them. They didn't want to provoke. How come their informants didn't mention anything about this person yet? They'd love to pry this information out of the man.

Muse managed to push off a bigger part of the hubris, making sure it'd fall away from him and onto the pavement.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[The fuck do you think happened?]” He believed it was pretty obvious, given the fact that a whole building had fallen down onto him. It wasn’t that often of an occurrence, but it was a pretty obvious tell. “[Because it looks pretty damn obvious to me.]”

With the biggest piece pushed off of his body, Frank was able to push away the rest of the debris, standing up with only some difficulty. It hurt like hell, which wasn’t a good sign given his pain tolerance. Especially with the sheer amount of blood the was coming from the wounds he had sustained. Any minute now, he knew he’d be worse for wear. Unable to walk.

At least the adrenaline in his system was keeping him functioning. Sure, he was definitely going to have a limp, but he was up and moving.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

They sighed "[I meant who did this to you? I can only tell so much from a bunch of rubble.]" They resisted the urge to sass the guy. Those look like some grievous injuries; would make a lot of people into assholes.

"[I'm assuming you're not going to get medical assistance anytime soon.]" Definitely doesn't look like a guy who'd want to get tangled with the authorities. "[Here]" they took out from their suit's pockets some bandages. They didn't have a lot of space for them - the priority was carrying their weapons - but they've been carrying some since they almost died... Back when they had their quirk awakening. They found carrying bandages was useful for other people as well, although they hated working in groups "[My name's Muse, by the way.]".

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[Frank.]” He introduced himself with the bare minimum, taking the bandages. He would have to make do with them, but after that he would definitely need to stitch himself up. With his arms majorly unharmed, he would be able to that much. So long as he managed to get out of there without passing out.

He grunted as he applied the first bandage. “[Would’ve thought the villain would have been obvious enough of a reason.]” The damage that the city had sustained in the fight meant he had enough time to at least answer the damn question. Besides, he had more bandages to apply.

The bandages could only do so much with the bleeding, especially with just how much blood Frank was losing.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I was looking for specifics.]" Muse grumbled as they checked the rubble for any signs of quirk use. At least that much may let them know who was throwing their weight around. Seeing as the man was relying on guns, he must not have a particularly offensive quirk, although he seemed to make up for that with how strong he looked. Or how resilient he must be to not be dropping dead by now.

"['Frank'... You're new. I haven't heard word of you yet.]" They were hoping they'd manage to get him to talk more about himself, but there didn't seem to be much luck so far.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[I’m not surprised.]” It was good that people didn’t recognise him here. It meant he blended in well enough, and hadn’t drawn any attention to the Punisher being in Japan.

Frank picked up one of his guns from the ground, letting out a struggled breath at the action. Yep, definitely broke something. At least it wasn’t his nose again, but something in his leg was broken and it hurt. From what it seemed like, it wasn’t a femur, but it was definitely something. And it wasn’t good. He wasn’t going to be able to work with that.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse cringed at the staggered movement and speech. This didn't look good at all, even with the tough guy attitude Frank was putting on.

"[What are you planning to do? You don't look like you should be moving like that.]" Perhaps they could help him make it to his hideout? Wherever that was. "[That guy left you alone instead of finishing you off]" the vigilante touched a point of impact on the rubble "[If I'm right in who that villain might be, he'll probably come back with his buddies for you.]" There were only so many villains in this area who'd leave these marks in the rubble, or be able to damage it this much. Then narrow it to what hour this happened at... Yes, there would only be a few fitting the profile.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He scoffed at the thought that he shouldn’t be moving the way he was. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he could, and that was all that mattered. “[I’ll find a place and patch myself up. Easy.]”

“[Those assholes ain’t coming back. I got a good few shots at them. They wouldn’t want to come back.]” If they did, he would have more fire coming for them. So long as they didn’t fuck up all of his guns, it’d be easy. And they’d be dead, just like they should be for causing senseless harm to civilians. For people who couldn’t fight back.

Oh, Frank would get them.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[You're not telling me you don't have an established place to rest, are you?] "

'You should really take that break after you got mangled like that, man.' is probably something they should REALLY tell this guy, but they were also not going to act like some baby sitter all night.

"[That might only make them angrier, but at least you sound confident.]" He must definitely have a lot of ammunition left.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He ignored the jab about not having a place to rest. Frank did. There was a place he was renting out. Cheap, but for what was in it, it was worth it. It had a bed and a place to wash up. Couldn’t ask for much more than that. Especially not with how distrusting people seemed of his face.

“[Confident? That’s an understatement.]” He knew he had scared them. If not, they wouldn’t have run the way they did. Those criminals knew that coming out of that encounter was a one time thing. If they came back, they would be gone. Frank knew that, and they knew that. The bullet wounds said it all.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The voice modifier crackled a little, as if Muse wanted to say something, but they went silent instead. They thought to ask the usual questions; about gangs or the people in the photographs that they keep in their suit... But Frank didn't seem trustworthy enough to them yet. They barely managed to get any information out of him. They could play the long run, wait for their informants to give them something.

The only thing the vigilante had to worry about was whenever this would be the only opportunity they'd ever get. If he's not surprised people don't talk about him then either he's new, good at hiding, or... Just that deadly.

"[Are you out here often?]" They tried to assess. Some vigilantes wouldn't like being asked this, but Muse figured they could try pushing their luck. They DID get the guy out of rubble and handed him bandages.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He huffed at the question. This person was digging deep, he could give them that. Trying to get all the details they could out of Frank, pull them out of him like it was just another bullet that got lodged. Really, it was impressive. Scary, but impressive. He’d need to keep his guard up for this vigilante. Seemed like one of the ones who wouldn’t simply let him go.

“[Nah, I’m not.]” Frank had only chosen to visit Japan to escape the US and the people looking for him. He needed to be safe, and to continue getting the job done. It was nice.

Though, he really fucking wished he chose somewhere with less villains who are practically immune to bullets.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"Hm..." Muse sounded displeased with Frank's answer, even through the voice modifier.

They stepped closer to the other vigilante, paying close attention to whenever his body language would become more aggressive or tense. Muse was shorter and much slimmer than him. Their dark helmet moved in the direction of the hubris. This alley was left in shambles.

"[But you seem to have left an impressive track behind. I don't think it'd be that hard to figure out where you've been.]" They mentally filed through their informants. Gears turning. "[You may not enjoy anonymity for long, Frank.]"

They weren't trying to seem malicious, although perhaps it may come off that way. Happens when a vigilante dressed in full black approaches you.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

With his build, it was like Frank practically towered over the other vigilante. He was a man of pure muscle and a staggering height. It wasn’t uncommon for him to tower over people. Even in a world of quirks, he managed to match up with people.

And the best part was that he was practically a normal guy. Sure, he had some military training and guns, but he didn’t have any quirk.

He licked his lips, nodding at what seemed to be a mild threat. “[Yeah, maybe, but that’s always a possibility. Though, I wouldn’t go about doing that. Not if I were you.]” Frank knew that he could figure out who this person was if he needed to. He had connections. And if this person ended up doing bad things, well… they’d receive their punishment.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[Ah, but I'm not trying anything. Stuff tends to naturally reach me, or it just falls into place.]" They shrugged. They would hope this man remains around the area long enough for them to actually gauge him properly. If he was related to gangs, which he could be, for all they knew, they didn't want to get all friendly just yet.

Well, Frank's reaction to them could have been worse than verbal defense. That was a start.

As for Muse's identity... That would be near impossible to figure out. They know exactly how to hide. Their costume is perfectly fit to keep that identity hidden. They know they have a lot to lose if all the gangs they pissed off were to figure out who they are in their daily life.

There would be hell to pay for the sheer audacity of getting in their way; shutting down their operations or causing the deaths of those vile idiots. They didn't kill often, but it has happened, and it'll happen again if only in self defense.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The vigilante entered the alleyway cautiously. They had heard a lot of ruckus from this direction while they were busy at the black market, and they barely managed to catch up. They didn't want to get into any trouble, especially at this hour of the night when their sleep deprivation would catch up to them, but they also wanted to be up to date with whatever was happening. If a gang they were keeping tabs on got into a firefight, this would be important.

On a quick look, there didn't seem to be any civilians or villains left around; good.

...Wait. Is that someone under the rubble? Great.

The masked vigilante approached and knelt down in order to check his vitals, but the guy seemed awake. "Any bad injuries?" Muse didn't bother introducing themselves this time around.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank glared at the person who owners the voice talking to him. Even with the amount of blood streaming into his eyes, he still chose to be a dick. His need for help could never completely outweigh his thoughts on people. He couldn’t make out the face.

What even was the point of the mask? Never owning up to their choices, their mistakes. When Frank went into fights, he typically chose to show his face. To own it. He wanted people to know as the died that is was to the Punisher. The only time he wore a mask was when he needed to hide, blend in with everyone.

With the blood loss, Frank’s ability to catch most of what was being said to him was also lost. Japanese wasn’t his forte, that was for sure. “Eh, [the hell do you want?]” He slipped into English, still searching for the right words in the correct language.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse stopped their movements for a second. English? Well, they didn't expect to run into a foreigner, but now that they could see the face better, it was obvious. How in the hell did somebody all the way from Europe or America end up under rubble in Japan was a different conversation, however. Neither was it the focus right now.

"[Bad injuries. Do you have any?]" The vigilante quickly switched to English. They've traveled outside Japan several times, and they read research in that language all the time. It was an easy and natural switch. If they carried any accent, it wasn't too thick, although it might not be noticeable due to the voice modifier equipped with the helmet. Unbeknownst to Muse, their entire get up - helmet, dark costume, voice modifier - that is everything they used to keep their real identity hidden - must be irking the other man.

They moved to push some of the rubble off. It was proving surprisingly heavy.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Well, at least there wasn’t going to be a communication barrier as he was bleeding out. That was great. “[It’s nothing I don’t have handled. I just can’t get up with this damn building on me.]”

The lack of respect he had for the person showed through his tone of voice, though the expletives were just a normal additive in his speech. All he wanted was to get up and get back to taking care of the damn villains that the heroes seemed so keen to just lock up until another inevitable break out. The system was flawed, but he knew how to take care of the problem.

Which was why he had a few guns on him. Illegal, the same as him.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[That's good...]" Muse replied as they stepped around the mess; trying to figure out what to wrestle off, and in what way.

Sticky ground.

They stopped, looking down, and slightly lifting their foot. "[You're bleeding.]" For the blood to be reaching them, it must be a considerable amount "[A lot. What happened to you?]"

The vigilante was also curious about who this man was. They saw the guns, but decided not to ask about them. They didn't want to provoke. How come their informants didn't mention anything about this person yet? They'd love to pry this information out of the man.

Muse managed to push off a bigger part of the hubris, making sure it'd fall away from him and onto the pavement.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[The fuck do you think happened?]” He believed it was pretty obvious, given the fact that a whole building had fallen down onto him. It wasn’t that often of an occurrence, but it was a pretty obvious tell. “[Because it looks pretty damn obvious to me.]”

With the biggest piece pushed off of his body, Frank was able to push away the rest of the debris, standing up with only some difficulty. It hurt like hell, which wasn’t a good sign given his pain tolerance. Especially with the sheer amount of blood the was coming from the wounds he had sustained. Any minute now, he knew he’d be worse for wear. Unable to walk.

At least the adrenaline in his system was keeping him functioning. Sure, he was definitely going to have a limp, but he was up and moving.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

They sighed "[I meant who did this to you? I can only tell so much from a bunch of rubble.]" They resisted the urge to sass the guy. Those look like some grievous injuries; would make a lot of people into assholes.

"[I'm assuming you're not going to get medical assistance anytime soon.]" Definitely doesn't look like a guy who'd want to get tangled with the authorities. "[Here]" they took out from their suit's pockets some bandages. They didn't have a lot of space for them - the priority was carrying their weapons - but they've been carrying some since they almost died... Back when they had their quirk awakening. They found carrying bandages was useful for other people as well, although they hated working in groups "[My name's Muse, by the way.]".

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[Frank.]” He introduced himself with the bare minimum, taking the bandages. He would have to make do with them, but after that he would definitely need to stitch himself up. With his arms majorly unharmed, he would be able to that much. So long as he managed to get out of there without passing out.

He grunted as he applied the first bandage. “[Would’ve thought the villain would have been obvious enough of a reason.]” The damage that the city had sustained in the fight meant he had enough time to at least answer the damn question. Besides, he had more bandages to apply.

The bandages could only do so much with the bleeding, especially with just how much blood Frank was losing.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I was looking for specifics.]" Muse grumbled as they checked the rubble for any signs of quirk use. At least that much may let them know who was throwing their weight around. Seeing as the man was relying on guns, he must not have a particularly offensive quirk, although he seemed to make up for that with how strong he looked. Or how resilient he must be to not be dropping dead by now.

"['Frank'... You're new. I haven't heard word of you yet.]" They were hoping they'd manage to get him to talk more about himself, but there didn't seem to be much luck so far.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[I’m not surprised.]” It was good that people didn’t recognise him here. It meant he blended in well enough, and hadn’t drawn any attention to the Punisher being in Japan.

Frank picked up one of his guns from the ground, letting out a struggled breath at the action. Yep, definitely broke something. At least it wasn’t his nose again, but something in his leg was broken and it hurt. From what it seemed like, it wasn’t a femur, but it was definitely something. And it wasn’t good. He wasn’t going to be able to work with that.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse cringed at the staggered movement and speech. This didn't look good at all, even with the tough guy attitude Frank was putting on.

"[What are you planning to do? You don't look like you should be moving like that.]" Perhaps they could help him make it to his hideout? Wherever that was. "[That guy left you alone instead of finishing you off]" the vigilante touched a point of impact on the rubble "[If I'm right in who that villain might be, he'll probably come back with his buddies for you.]" There were only so many villains in this area who'd leave these marks in the rubble, or be able to damage it this much. Then narrow it to what hour this happened at... Yes, there would only be a few fitting the profile.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He scoffed at the thought that he shouldn’t be moving the way he was. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he could, and that was all that mattered. “[I’ll find a place and patch myself up. Easy.]”

“[Those assholes ain’t coming back. I got a good few shots at them. They wouldn’t want to come back.]” If they did, he would have more fire coming for them. So long as they didn’t fuck up all of his guns, it’d be easy. And they’d be dead, just like they should be for causing senseless harm to civilians. For people who couldn’t fight back.

Oh, Frank would get them.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[You're not telling me you don't have an established place to rest, are you?] "

'You should really take that break after you got mangled like that, man.' is probably something they should REALLY tell this guy, but they were also not going to act like some baby sitter all night.

"[That might only make them angrier, but at least you sound confident.]" He must definitely have a lot of ammunition left.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He ignored the jab about not having a place to rest. Frank did. There was a place he was renting out. Cheap, but for what was in it, it was worth it. It had a bed and a place to wash up. Couldn’t ask for much more than that. Especially not with how distrusting people seemed of his face.

“[Confident? That’s an understatement.]” He knew he had scared them. If not, they wouldn’t have run the way they did. Those criminals knew that coming out of that encounter was a one time thing. If they came back, they would be gone. Frank knew that, and they knew that. The bullet wounds said it all.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The voice modifier crackled a little, as if Muse wanted to say something, but they went silent instead. They thought to ask the usual questions; about gangs or the people in the photographs that they keep in their suit... But Frank didn't seem trustworthy enough to them yet. They barely managed to get any information out of him. They could play the long run, wait for their informants to give them something.

The only thing the vigilante had to worry about was whenever this would be the only opportunity they'd ever get. If he's not surprised people don't talk about him then either he's new, good at hiding, or... Just that deadly.

"[Are you out here often?]" They tried to assess. Some vigilantes wouldn't like being asked this, but Muse figured they could try pushing their luck. They DID get the guy out of rubble and handed him bandages.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He huffed at the question. This person was digging deep, he could give them that. Trying to get all the details they could out of Frank, pull them out of him like it was just another bullet that got lodged. Really, it was impressive. Scary, but impressive. He’d need to keep his guard up for this vigilante. Seemed like one of the ones who wouldn’t simply let him go.

“[Nah, I’m not.]” Frank had only chosen to visit Japan to escape the US and the people looking for him. He needed to be safe, and to continue getting the job done. It was nice.

Though, he really fucking wished he chose somewhere with less villains who are practically immune to bullets.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"Hm..." Muse sounded displeased with Frank's answer, even through the voice modifier.

They stepped closer to the other vigilante, paying close attention to whenever his body language would become more aggressive or tense. Muse was shorter and much slimmer than him. Their dark helmet moved in the direction of the hubris. This alley was left in shambles.

"[But you seem to have left an impressive track behind. I don't think it'd be that hard to figure out where you've been.]" They mentally filed through their informants. Gears turning. "[You may not enjoy anonymity for long, Frank.]"

They weren't trying to seem malicious, although perhaps it may come off that way. Happens when a vigilante dressed in full black approaches you.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank knew pretty damn well how to hide. To stay hidden from view, from those who wanted him dead. From those he didn't want to see him. Sure, he had his slip-ups, but that was natural. Human. It wasn't like he could stop that shit from happening, but at the very least he wasn't parading around what he did.

One of those screw-ups just happened to occur after a bad meeting with a villain. One of those ones who thought they were hot shit, hurting civilians and causing mass destruction. Frank thought he had it covered, but one wrong move and he ended up hit with some fallen debris, keeping him out in the open and vulnerable to whoever happened across him.

If some hero decided to come across him, he could act all innocent, sure, but the guns he had on him weren't going to be an easy explanation. But, hell, he would rather not be stuck under some chunk of building.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The vigilante entered the alleyway cautiously. They had heard a lot of ruckus from this direction while they were busy at the black market, and they barely managed to catch up. They didn't want to get into any trouble, especially at this hour of the night when their sleep deprivation would catch up to them, but they also wanted to be up to date with whatever was happening. If a gang they were keeping tabs on got into a firefight, this would be important.

On a quick look, there didn't seem to be any civilians or villains left around; good.

...Wait. Is that someone under the rubble? Great.

The masked vigilante approached and knelt down in order to check his vitals, but the guy seemed awake. "Any bad injuries?" Muse didn't bother introducing themselves this time around.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Frank glared at the person who owners the voice talking to him. Even with the amount of blood streaming into his eyes, he still chose to be a dick. His need for help could never completely outweigh his thoughts on people. He couldn’t make out the face.

What even was the point of the mask? Never owning up to their choices, their mistakes. When Frank went into fights, he typically chose to show his face. To own it. He wanted people to know as the died that is was to the Punisher. The only time he wore a mask was when he needed to hide, blend in with everyone.

With the blood loss, Frank’s ability to catch most of what was being said to him was also lost. Japanese wasn’t his forte, that was for sure. “Eh, [the hell do you want?]” He slipped into English, still searching for the right words in the correct language.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse stopped their movements for a second. English? Well, they didn't expect to run into a foreigner, but now that they could see the face better, it was obvious. How in the hell did somebody all the way from Europe or America end up under rubble in Japan was a different conversation, however. Neither was it the focus right now.

"[Bad injuries. Do you have any?]" The vigilante quickly switched to English. They've traveled outside Japan several times, and they read research in that language all the time. It was an easy and natural switch. If they carried any accent, it wasn't too thick, although it might not be noticeable due to the voice modifier equipped with the helmet. Unbeknownst to Muse, their entire get up - helmet, dark costume, voice modifier - that is everything they used to keep their real identity hidden - must be irking the other man.

They moved to push some of the rubble off. It was proving surprisingly heavy.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

Well, at least there wasn’t going to be a communication barrier as he was bleeding out. That was great. “[It’s nothing I don’t have handled. I just can’t get up with this damn building on me.]”

The lack of respect he had for the person showed through his tone of voice, though the expletives were just a normal additive in his speech. All he wanted was to get up and get back to taking care of the damn villains that the heroes seemed so keen to just lock up until another inevitable break out. The system was flawed, but he knew how to take care of the problem.

Which was why he had a few guns on him. Illegal, the same as him.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[That's good...]" Muse replied as they stepped around the mess; trying to figure out what to wrestle off, and in what way.

Sticky ground.

They stopped, looking down, and slightly lifting their foot. "[You're bleeding.]" For the blood to be reaching them, it must be a considerable amount "[A lot. What happened to you?]"

The vigilante was also curious about who this man was. They saw the guns, but decided not to ask about them. They didn't want to provoke. How come their informants didn't mention anything about this person yet? They'd love to pry this information out of the man.

Muse managed to push off a bigger part of the hubris, making sure it'd fall away from him and onto the pavement.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[The fuck do you think happened?]” He believed it was pretty obvious, given the fact that a whole building had fallen down onto him. It wasn’t that often of an occurrence, but it was a pretty obvious tell. “[Because it looks pretty damn obvious to me.]”

With the biggest piece pushed off of his body, Frank was able to push away the rest of the debris, standing up with only some difficulty. It hurt like hell, which wasn’t a good sign given his pain tolerance. Especially with the sheer amount of blood the was coming from the wounds he had sustained. Any minute now, he knew he’d be worse for wear. Unable to walk.

At least the adrenaline in his system was keeping him functioning. Sure, he was definitely going to have a limp, but he was up and moving.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

They sighed "[I meant who did this to you? I can only tell so much from a bunch of rubble.]" They resisted the urge to sass the guy. Those look like some grievous injuries; would make a lot of people into assholes.

"[I'm assuming you're not going to get medical assistance anytime soon.]" Definitely doesn't look like a guy who'd want to get tangled with the authorities. "[Here]" they took out from their suit's pockets some bandages. They didn't have a lot of space for them - the priority was carrying their weapons - but they've been carrying some since they almost died... Back when they had their quirk awakening. They found carrying bandages was useful for other people as well, although they hated working in groups "[My name's Muse, by the way.]".

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[Frank.]” He introduced himself with the bare minimum, taking the bandages. He would have to make do with them, but after that he would definitely need to stitch himself up. With his arms majorly unharmed, he would be able to that much. So long as he managed to get out of there without passing out.

He grunted as he applied the first bandage. “[Would’ve thought the villain would have been obvious enough of a reason.]” The damage that the city had sustained in the fight meant he had enough time to at least answer the damn question. Besides, he had more bandages to apply.

The bandages could only do so much with the bleeding, especially with just how much blood Frank was losing.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[I was looking for specifics.]" Muse grumbled as they checked the rubble for any signs of quirk use. At least that much may let them know who was throwing their weight around. Seeing as the man was relying on guns, he must not have a particularly offensive quirk, although he seemed to make up for that with how strong he looked. Or how resilient he must be to not be dropping dead by now.

"['Frank'... You're new. I haven't heard word of you yet.]" They were hoping they'd manage to get him to talk more about himself, but there didn't seem to be much luck so far.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

“[I’m not surprised.]” It was good that people didn’t recognise him here. It meant he blended in well enough, and hadn’t drawn any attention to the Punisher being in Japan.

Frank picked up one of his guns from the ground, letting out a struggled breath at the action. Yep, definitely broke something. At least it wasn’t his nose again, but something in his leg was broken and it hurt. From what it seemed like, it wasn’t a femur, but it was definitely something. And it wasn’t good. He wasn’t going to be able to work with that.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

Muse cringed at the staggered movement and speech. This didn't look good at all, even with the tough guy attitude Frank was putting on.

"[What are you planning to do? You don't look like you should be moving like that.]" Perhaps they could help him make it to his hideout? Wherever that was. "[That guy left you alone instead of finishing you off]" the vigilante touched a point of impact on the rubble "[If I'm right in who that villain might be, he'll probably come back with his buddies for you.]" There were only so many villains in this area who'd leave these marks in the rubble, or be able to damage it this much. Then narrow it to what hour this happened at... Yes, there would only be a few fitting the profile.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He scoffed at the thought that he shouldn’t be moving the way he was. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he could, and that was all that mattered. “[I’ll find a place and patch myself up. Easy.]”

“[Those assholes ain’t coming back. I got a good few shots at them. They wouldn’t want to come back.]” If they did, he would have more fire coming for them. So long as they didn’t fuck up all of his guns, it’d be easy. And they’d be dead, just like they should be for causing senseless harm to civilians. For people who couldn’t fight back.

Oh, Frank would get them.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

"[You're not telling me you don't have an established place to rest, are you?] "

'You should really take that break after you got mangled like that, man.' is probably something they should REALLY tell this guy, but they were also not going to act like some baby sitter all night.

"[That might only make them angrier, but at least you sound confident.]" He must definitely have a lot of ammunition left.

[a-bard-and-its-troupe]

He ignored the jab about not having a place to rest. Frank did. There was a place he was renting out. Cheap, but for what was in it, it was worth it. It had a bed and a place to wash up. Couldn’t ask for much more than that. Especially not with how distrusting people seemed of his face.

“[Confident? That’s an understatement.]” He knew he had scared them. If not, they wouldn’t have run the way they did. Those criminals knew that coming out of that encounter was a one time thing. If they came back, they would be gone. Frank knew that, and they knew that. The bullet wounds said it all.

[museums-and-broken-bones]

The voice modifier crackled a little, as if Muse wanted to say something, but they went silent instead. They thought to ask the usual questions; about gangs or the people in the photographs that they keep in their suit... But Frank didn't seem trustworthy enough to them yet. They barely managed to get any information out of him. They could play the long run, wait for their informants to give them something.

The only thing the vigilante had to worry about was whenever this would be the only opportunity they'd ever get. If he's not surprised people don't talk about him then either he's new, good at hiding, or... Just that deadly.

"[Are you out here often?]" They tried to assess. Some vigilantes wouldn't like being asked this, but Muse figured they could try pushing their luck. They DID get the guy out of rubble and handed him bandages.