5852/Information Exchange

Information Exchange
Date of Scene:	26 November 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Punisher, Ekaterina Vespucci

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Punisher has posed:
War Journal entry: 11/26/2026; Hell's Kitchen

Donatelli Fuchinello. What a piece of work. Had Ekaterina gunned down right in front of me. Been lying low since. Biding my time. Studying his movements. Think I got him but haven't made a move. Wanted to tell Vespucci first. Give her a heads up. She's got a history there that I can't just ignore. Maybe she'll want to see it go down. Poetic. I like poetry.

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Josie's Bar. If there was one place in Hell's Kitchen that even Frank Castle could be comfortable in, it's here. That's rare for Castle.

A plate of over-greased fries sit on the table in front of Frank. No ketchup. No salt. Just Idaho potatoes and a tub of lard. They don't appear to have been touched, other than to move them around a bit. A half-empty bottle of Bud sits next to them. It wasn't enough to calm down Frank, though, as he sits, hands folded together. His eyes move about the bar constantly, flicking from one person to the next, back to the entrance, to the pool table, the hall to the back, and then around the room again.

Castle is easy enough to spot. He made sure to sit where he could watch both exits with his back to the wall. A black Yankees cap is pulled down to hide his features a bit. Goes well with the black hoodie and pants. Not one for colour is Frank. At least he seems to have left the whites at whatever dive he calls a home these days.

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
Ekaterina appears as is her want - alone without any semblence of a security detail. It's hard to fathom that there would be any truth to the rumors that Ekaterina or Kat as she prefered was some kind of underworld boss. She stands little over five feet tall - has large cornflower blue eyes and dresses and looks like a college freshman in cheap winter clothing.

The truth about her as Frank and a number of others had discovered was much more unbelievable. She had walked the Earth since 820 A.D. Back then she was known as Engelberga of Parma. Drilled so bad full of bullets that she was barely holding together she had effectively come back to life in front of Frank. Even one of her eyes regenerated after the vicious attack.

Kat sits down at Frank's table after having been carded at the door. A consequence of permanently being biologically 19. "Hey Frank. You wanted to have a sit down?" Kat is as cheerful as ever.

Punisher has posed:
The opening of the door draws Frank's attention before Ekaternia even gets through it. He shifts slightly, giving room for the young-looking woman to sit comfortably. For a moment, he nearly calls her Vespucci but then takes a look around the room again. Who knows who might be working for whom.

"Kat," he mutters back as he lifts his bottle to take another, long drink. Before he sets it back down, he lifts the bottle, gets Josie's attention, and holds up two fingers. The bottle thuds softly as Frank sets it back on the table. "Fries?" With a finger, he pushes the plate slowly in Ekaternia's direction.

"Got news on your boy, Fuchinello. Been following him for a while. Picked up some patterns. He's clever. Too clever. But I think I know where I can corner him. Pay him back."

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
Ekaterina steals a chip. One of the great advantages of her brand of immortality is she doesn't have to watch her diet. She doesn't have to eat or drink at all in fact. But she does both for the pleasure of it. Ordering a bourbon from the bar shew sips it. No more than 3 cubes of ice.

"Ah Fuchinello. I had a mercenary come to my bar Aeterna the other day looking for his brother believe it or not. I didn't know where Rapahel Fuchinello was but I sent him after Donatelli. I didn't expect the mercenary to kill him but I trusted it to not be pleasant. I see my expectations were met."

Kat cants her head, "This guy is a serious bee in your wig Frank? I'm surprised. I know he did like sort of 'kill' me in front of you. He does like hurting women. But he is still not the largest fish in the New York underworld. Just a mid level dirtbag. I won't get in your way but just so you know Matt Murdock has taken an interest in seeing that Donatelli goes to jail."

Punisher has posed:
"Big. Little. Either way, they all fry the same."

The two beers are placed on the table and, since Ekaterina doesn't seem to want one, Frank just slides both of them over to himself after handing off his now empty bottle. "Could find his brother, too. Being a small player doesn't make either of them innocent. Just easier to get to."

Leaning forward a bit, Frank pushes the brim of his hat up a bit as he looks over toward the immortal sitting next to him. "Murdock? Good lawyer. Stands up for the little guy. But here? Jail isn't what Fuchinello needs. He'll be back out again. Just wanted to let you know that, soon, you won't need to worry about him again."

Frank flicks his eyes around the bar again, taking stock of anyone that might be looking at them too closely. Luckily in Hell's Kitchen a middle-aged man talking up a college girl isn't that surprising.

"How about you? Still lying low? Any more trouble?"

Ekaterina Vespucci has posed:
"I'm afraid I think the word is going to be out about me one way or another soon. I got myself killed in Central Park by a massive biomechanical construct a few weeks back. And all I was trying to do was paint a picture. A half dozen people caught me regenerating on their cells. I figure that there are so many superpowered whackos openly walking about I should be seen in the grand scheme of this as being pretty mundane. Apart from my age that is. And the fact that I am in wikipedia a few times as various historical figures."

She sips her bourbon and asks Frank, "I'm curious how you are holding up? I mean you've been at this whole vigilante thing for a while and proven yourself quite capable of going toe to toe with many of the supers out there. There are more of them now. Has it changed for you? Is it more aggravating? Or more challenging? I suppose the latter is an obvious yes."

Punisher has posed:
"Huh. Tourists." Frank takes another swig from one of the bottles in front of him. "Real New Yorkers've seen it all. Still, must've been a helluva show."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Frank grunts in response to Ekaterina's questions. He doesn't like to talk about troubles with work. "More. Fewer. Doesn't really matter. I stay out of their way. Keeps me on my toes. Learned before that suits're more trouble than they're worth. Well, I stay away from the righteous ones, at least.

"As for holding up? There's still fight in me yet. Don't worry."

Frank leans to the side a bit in order to pull out his wallet. Thumbing through, he pulls out a few bills and drops them on the table.

"Don't stay too long, kid. I need to see to some things." He grabs the one bottle that still has anything left in it and drains it. "See you around. Stay out of trouble."