A chat shaped into a script and is to be kept forever. Thanks @gloriousxdarkness
CHARACTERS are FRANK CASTLE and ELEKTRA NATCHIOS. The SCENE is on a rooftop near HELL’S KITCHEN. Because the only place these characters know to meet up on seems to be rooftops.
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Previously FRANK had seen pictures of ELEKTRA holding a gun. It sparked something in him. Excited him. Irked him. Provoked him. Spurred the following;
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FRANK: Is that a gun? Are you into guns now?
FRANK thinks it’s kinda hot, too.
ELEKTRA: I never said I couldn’t use guns.
ELEKTRA: I’m best at knives. I’m only spectacular with everything else.
FRANK’S eyes narrows. Would she even know how to aim? He sees how his scepticism offends her. But FRANK’S a SNIPER. He’s thinking that everyone gets the idea that they can handle a gun; that doesn’t mean they can do it well. And he gets to.
ELEKTRA looks like she’s about to shoot him just to prove a point. The communication between them wordless; heated glares and silent disapproval. Zoom in on their eyes.
ELEKTRA is the first to break the silence. Dissatisfaction etched on her face.
ELEKTRA: I can fucking shoot, okay?
FRANK looks unimpressed.
ELEKTRA: Like it’s hard?
FRANK lifts his eyebrows. He has the audacity or balls, even, to look bored.
ELEKTRA: I’ll fucking shoot you right now.
ELEKTRA’S little rant seemingly has no effect on him. But he secretly loves how he’s gotten to her.
FRANK: Sure, up close is easy.
FRANK continues to challenge her. He pulls out a weapon, because he’s always carrying those? One of his Colts. He loads it and flips it in his palm so he’s holding it by the barrel, offering her the grip. The barrel points down, away from his body.
FRANK: Don’t miss.
To this day FRANK still claims he’s not suicidal. But to the onlooker it looks like a completely different story. The guy has suffered tragedy, alright? It wouldn’t surprise anyone if he was a little suicidal.
ELEKTRA: You’re an idiot.
Everyone knows she’s right. Everyone but FRANK. He shrugs.
ELEKTRA accepts the gun. Determined. Stubborn. FRANK walks a few steps backwards without turning his back on her, giving her space. Up close IS easy after all. ELEKTRA aims. She’s absolutely stunning. Gracious. FRANK appreciates that. A gunshot whips through the air. The sound sharp, uncomfortable. ELEKTRA’S shot clips his ear. It bleeds a little. Will most definitely fuck with his hearing. ELEKTRA’S face is impossible to read, her triumph hidden. FRANK is as stoic as ever.
FRANK (grumbly): Did you miss on purpose?
The idiot, FRANK, still eggs her on. Like come on, man? Do you want to do that when one of the most lethal women in the universe is pointing a gun at you? FRANK think it’s exciting.
ELEKTRA: Do you want me to hurt you?
ELEKTRA is amused and frustrated at the same time, if such a thing is possible. They’re playing this deadly game, that they never seem to tire of, flirting underneath it all.
FRANK (stubbornly): I wanna know if you can shoot.
FRANK wants her close. Close and angry beats away – which was the other option.
ELEKTRA thinks that it is fair and shrugs. Maybe even excited by the prospect. Challenge accepted. She likes challenges; it makes her existence less boring.
ELEKTRA (playfully?): If you want to be my target practise, you better put some Kevlar on, Castle.
There’s a hint of seriousness to ELEKTRA’S tone. She does indeed intend to shoot the mother fucker.
FRANK is wearing layers. T-shirt. Hoodie. One of his three jackets. (Inside joke, yo.) The bullet proof vest with the white graffiti skull a part of THE PUNISHER’S outfit. But he wasn’t being THE PUNISHER tonight. FRANK pulls at his hoodie and t-shirt, showing her his chiselled abs. Without words telling her she’d be hitting flesh. FRANK is ready to deal with the consequence of that.
ELEKTRA play’s it cool, even if she likes what she sees. She cocks her head at him. Get on with it. FRANK pulls the t-shirt and hoodie back down, covering up.
FRANK: I’ll be over there.
FRANK nods towards a building across the street. Bites back a remark about whether she knows how to reload.
FRANK: Try not to miss.
FRANK smirks playfully and winks at her before he jumps onto the fire escape.
ELEKTRA know she’s a good shot. She taps her foot impatiently, waiting for him to appear on the other roof. Not as good as him though. But she’ll make damn sure that FRANK knows that she’s good enough.
