Characters: Hawkeye, The Punisher
Location: Avengers Compound
Scenario: Trying Unsuccessfully To Start a Rave (Raiju Fulger)
All characters, locations and scenarios were pulled out of a hat to create this story, which was written in 30 minutes or less.
--
The black light coated the command center, highlighting the array of blinking consoles and apparatus with a funktastic glow. Music pumped through the sound system typically reserved for announcements of one emergency or another. It would not be uncommon to hear tell of an imminent Hydra attack or SOS call from a SHIELD envoy through the speakers, but today they simply buzzed with the stress of non-stop hardcore rave tracks.
Frank Castle clambered over the remnants of furniture that stood in his wake, sawn of shotgun at the ready as he explored the oddly lit Avengers compound. He had heard that this team of so called superheroes were a well oiled machine, an incorruptible shield that defended the planet from the ravages of evil. What he had found upon entering - which had been a by-the-numbers operation unto itself, requiring him to kidnap and torture one of the interns working here until they gave him the name of someone who actually knew anything, then kidnap and torture THAT person until they gave him the entry code for the complex (and should he need to pass a retinal scan, gouging out their eyeball certainly didn't hurt his chances of infiltration) - was frankly a mess.
For starters, nobody of any import appeared to be on location. Captain America? AWOL. Iron Man? Nada. Thor? Probably off helping to reshingle Nick Fury's roof with that hammer of his. Not even Ant Man or Falcon had made an appearance, and they were the super low budget heroes.
Instead Frank had happened upon the dim, poorly lit shell of a party. Loud noise that resembled music, a dance floor littered with balloons, alcohol strewn about several tables that had been completely unotuched. And overhead, across the enormous letter "A" that symbolized their haphazard team of superpowered vigilante, there hung a banner that read "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!" in garish, glow-in-the-dark font.
"Looks like I crashed the party," Frank grimaced, his worn features tightening into a maze of wrinkles with his sulking lips at the dead center. "On second thoughts, looks like this party crashed and burned a while ago."
His ear twitched as he felt movement behind him, a whooshing sound caused him to instinctively dive and spin in mid air, aiming the shotgun indiscriminately as his trigger finger awoke in his hand and sent two scattered blasts directly into the wall. He flinched as he felt a sharp pain in his gut. He felt the telltale warmth of blood gathering beneath his totally awesome black shirt with a freaking cool white skull on it that looked like a 12 year old's halloween costume his mother didn't approve of.
He stared at the wound, shocked that someone was able to get the drop on him - but of course, he was fighting a team of superheroes. But which one had attacked him? And with what? He reached into his side and pulled something out of the hole in his torso. He had been shot with a projectile of some sort. He held it in his clenched, vengeful fist and tightened his clenched, vengeful jaw.
"What's the matter?" The Punisher growled, holding the glowstick he had been shot with aloft with a frenzied look in his bloodshot eyes. "Run out of arrows, Barton?!"
"It was all I had on me at the time!" Hawkeye called out from behind the DJ equipment on a nearby staging area. Frank whipped his shotgun out at arm's length and began stumbling toward the turntables. Looks like the tables really are about to turn, Frank thought to himself, but didn't smile because he's a grim antihero and that wouldn't be right. "Look, can you maybe come back later? When I'm more prepared!"
"Vengeance waits for no-one," declared Castle, and he kicked the DJ stuff aside to get a look at his assailant. Hawkeye had plastered himself to one of the speakers, his backside strangely noticeable in the black light. Frank spent a good five seconds admiring his posterior and thinking that a man with a butt that nice couldn't possibly be all bad. But then he remembered New York. "You have to answer for your crimes."
"That wasn't me!" Clint insisted, puppy eyes pleading with the force of justice bearing down upon him. "I was brainwashed! All those things I did, it was against my will."
"Justice has no loopholes," Frank raised his weapon and aimed it square at Hawkeye's beautiful backside - clearly Hawkeye's vulnerable spot, as it was the part he took care of the most. "You have to be put down."
"You can't kill me!" Hakweye begged. "I spent such a long time arranging this dance for the guys! It's been four years to the day since we all united and became the Avengers! They're gonna love it!"
"I don't think so," Frank remarked. Then he turned and shot all his remaining bullets into the sound system, murdering the monotonous dubstep soundtrack. He checked his pockets - fresh out of ammo. In a spur of the moment bit of decision making, he decided to let Hawkeye off with a warning. "Let that be a lesson to you. Don't go getting mind controlled and help an evil maniac try to overthrow our planet. Again, I mean."
"I'll do my best," said Hawkeye.
"Oh, and one more thing," Frank continued, "you dropped something."
"What's that?" said Hawkeye, already starting to crawl away from the imposing, totally not Batman figure of the Punisher.
"The bass."
Frank swung a bass guitar that he had acquired in all the darkness and confusion, connecting it with Hawkeye's attractive chin, knocking him out. Leaving the Avengers compound, Frank Castle turned and admired the impressive fortress that the Steve Rogers led posse had erected for themselves. It would've made a good home for a hero who wanted to be amongst other heroes. But not Frank. He didn't play well with others. Also he didn't much care for rave music.
"Catch you later, Avengers," The Punisher cocked his brow, nursing his battle wound as he continued to walk. "Time for this vigilante to Netflix and Kill."