usingthelaw | ic inbox.

There is blood all over my sheets and no discernible source.

It's you. There's always a source.

[ five seconds later. ]

Check your head.

No. Let me do it. You'll lie.

[haha yeah about that]

Not this time. I just came back to my apartment.

[He hasn't even peeled his suit off yet, what do you want him to do, send a picture? GOD, FOGGY.]

Let me put on pants and I'll come check.

Maybe you had visitors again.

[ He would ask for one, jerk, if he thought you'd aim the camera right. ]

I'm leaning towards the visitor theory myself. I just don't know who—they weren't helpful enough to leave a note.

[Or clean up after themselves, apparently. But yeah, while Foggy is putting on pants, Matt is peeling off the suit and looking for an ice pack. Thank god for Melvin and the helmet, or Matt would be suffering a lot more than a few bruises and cuts.]

[ Pushing himself up with only mild grumbling, Foggy moved around getting ready. He wouldn't believe the not bleeding theory until he saw it with his own two eyes. For once, he hoped Matt proved him wrong because he had seen his friend near death too many times for comfort. ]

Could be one of your new friends. They bleed out just as much as you do.

Is that like how you get to join your club?

[ Someone might be sassy today. ]

Luke's bulletproof, Danny apparently can heal himself now, and Jessica's tastes in alcohol run more towards whiskey than German beer. At the moment, that's all the alcohol I have. It's not them, at least.

It's a very exclusive club and we're full up, unfortunately. [That's fine, Matt's exhausted enough to sass right back.] Unless you were recently in a traumatic accident that gave you abilities.

I want to formally request that you don't ever sniff me to know these things about me.

Oh, yeah, didn't you hear? Got myself bitten by something radioactive.
I have bullshit detecting powers.

What do you know?

They work.

[ Listen here, Murdock, you get sass, not give sass. But two can always play the game, especially when Foggy preferred getting the last word. ]

It's too late, I already know way too much about you.

[Like how he takes his coffee, the shampoo he used in college, the times he came back to their dorm after a night with a very nice girl, the butcher story...]

Apparently not that well. Maybe it wasn't radioactive enough.

[Matt is a generous person, sure, but by god he's not going to let anyone have the last word over him, especially not Foggy.]

Have I told you lately how creepy you are?

[ in a nice way obviously and on that note he pounded none too gently on Matt's door. see who gets the last literal word now, stupid charm smile. ]

[When Matt opens the door, he looks—well, battered. As per usual, really, but the worst of it that can be seen is a bruise under his cheekbone where someone got in a lucky shot. There are more bruises peeking out from under the hoodie he tugged on, but overall? It's not that bad, considering that his bed is currently a bloody mess.

He's. Still working on that.]

And I've told you that I can't exactly turn it off. [He opens the door wider for Foggy to step through. The Daredevil suit is on the floor, the helmet sitting on the table, and if there were any signs of a break-in, it's just as likely that Matt's the cause of them and not whoever his mysterious visitor was.

Said mysterious visitor left. Uh. Well. A lot of blood on Matt's bed, and a used katana on the bed. Judging from the spots of blood on the floor, it wasn't originally on the bed.]

It's not—It isn't Elektra, before you ask. [Her name is heavy on his tongue, bittersweet, like copper and honey.] I'd know if it was.

[ There were a lot of very choice comments Foggy wanted to mention right then but most of them were swallows down in favor of the worry creeping in. A familiar emotion since he learned about the whole daredevil activity. Sometimes he still couldn't wrap his mind around it and other times it made him so angry he barely saw straight. Again, he mostly kept it to himself.

Fingers reach out, he brushed them along Matt's cheek, trailing down his collarbone without really registering the movements. Concern, okay? ]

Have you disinfected the cuts? [ He questioned as he walked to the bedroom and nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight. Damn, talk about a lot of blood. ]

You're going to have to burn your bed. Is that a katana? An actual -

[ Did he feel better or worse about it not being Elektra? He just could not tell. Matt made everything a thousand times more complicated. ]

You haven't touched anything, right? We have to - be careful. There could be a dead body close by and we don't need it connected to either one of us. Damn it, Matt that is a lot of blood.

[He gives an affirmative nod to the initial question, looking slightly offended. Yes, excuse you, he did in fact disinfect the cuts. His breath does not catch in his throat when Foggy's fingers trail down to his collarbone, he'll deny that till his dying day and probably even beyond.

He follows after. The smell of blood hits him again like a freight train, but oddly enough, there's nothing that smells like death here. Something odder, certainly, underlining the scent of blood, but nothing like the Hand, nothing that smells like something rotting from the inside out under perfume and cologne.]

It's a katana. [He'd suspected, but it's nice to have visual confirmation that yes, it's a fucking katana.] Whoever it was cleaned it off, I can still smell mineral oil on it.

[Yeah, just. Just throw that out there.]

There isn't a dead body close by. [He cocks his head a little to the side, like he's listening for something just in case.] I'd know if there was.

[He might be a little bit agitated right now.]

I know it's a lot of blood, I can smell it. [It's pretty overwhelming to his senses, enhanced as they are.] Forget about the dead body—someone broke in, and I don't know who they are or why they'd pick this particular apartment to bleed to death in. Or not, because apparently they got up and just walked it off.

[ First off, find your center, Matthew Murdock and second watch your tone. His eyes narrowed as Matt carried on even if the man couldn't see the thoroughly displeased look on his face it made him feel better to hand it out. Again, with the creepy heightened senses detecting the presence of death in the air.

Any second now, he really was going to be sick. Too much blood, too much other things on the bed amongst it that he did not want to think about.

Swallowing, he tried with all his might to not snap back. ]

Good to know we aren't getting framed for murder this time. I'm really comforted.

[ Okay, that not snapping thing lasted five minutes. ]

Nobody bleeds this much and just walks it off, Matt! This isn't some supernatural movie. This is - [ Bile rose into his throat as he ranted but he managed to settle himself just in time. ]

Can't get any ideas on this? You know what I smell like but can't figure out if a male or female used your bed as a some sex dungeon game gone wrong.

[Someone bled out on his bed he has the right to be more than a little bit pissed off about that.]

I know! [Foggy snaps back, and Matt snaps back too, freaked out as all hell by the fact that someone actually broke into his place. It's not like he's a stranger to people breaking in, it's just that usually, it's people he knows.

This is not someone he knows.]

I'm telling you what I know, Foggy. [Okay, rein it in, Murdock, Foggy hasn't done anything besides be skeptical. Matt would be skeptical too if their places were switched.] Someone broke in, bled out enough on my bed that they should have died, and then—somehow they got up again and walked away, leaving their sword behind. That's the least complicated explanation I have, based on the evidence.

[He huffs out a breath, shakes his head.]

I'm sure it's a guy, but there's something off about the scent. I don't know what, I can't put a finger on it. [Not a ninja, that's for sure. They smell different.]

[ Frustrated and more than a little worried, Foggy threw his hands up into the air. Nothing about this made any sense but in a way he should have expected it. Things were always mixed up and just plain weird with them, especially with the kind of company Matt tended to attract towards him. To think he used to be miffed with how others were so naturally drawn to him.

Letting out a breath to try and calm himself, Foggy also took a few steps back. The smell kept the waves of nausea a steady force and he didn't want to add to the - mess. Plus, he never liked others fussing over him, it made him feel incapable. He knew how stupid that was. ]

So, what you're telling me is someone has the capabilities to not die and can come back to life. You really do love your kung fu movie metaphors.

[ He couldn't help the comments, really. ]

Look, let's clean up and try to fortify your place after.

It stopped being metaphorical a while ago.

[Le sigh. Remember when resurrecting ninjas weren't a thing, Foggy? Matt misses those days. Matt really misses those days. At least this person, whoever he is, doesn't smell like the Hand does, doesn't smell like he's slowly rotting from the inside out.]

I'll take the covers up to the roof. There's a box of matches in the kitchen drawer, third one from the left. You're in charge of those. [Why's he got a box of matches in the kitchen? It's—Listen, sometimes in one's vigilante life, they find themselves in need of helping another vigilante buddy burn the hell out of some incriminating photos, and then they have to steal a cigarette lighter off the guy they just interrogated for leads to do it.

It's embarrassing, and Matt does not want to go through it again.]

The katana—we'll need to dispose of that too.

[ Sometimes he felt really proud how far Matt had come with his sass level because he remembered the more polite Catholic boy routine all too well but there were also times like at the moment where it frustrated him completely. How could Matt just so EASILY accept everything and take it in stride? Especially when he still felt dizzy over the scene in front of them. Worry might have played a small factor. Maybe. ]

You knew I would ask. Is this a kink thing, Matthew? Because you really shouldn't be playing with matches.

[ Enhanced abilities or not but he still moved over to the kitchen to pluck the book of them between his fingers. ]

What are we going to do chuck it in the river at night like we're the criminals we're supposed to bring to justice?

[ Okay, maybe he still felt bitter about Castle. ]

We're going to have to shower after this. I already smell like death. [ He didn't realize how that sounded like he meant together. ]

If you want to maintain plausible deniability, I recommend not asking for details after why I have a box of matches.

[Plausible deniability, he says, like they didn't go way past that already. But yeah, Matt's just hauling his bloody mattress up the stairs now with some care where he steps. He'd be faster under other circumstances, but fresh off of Daredeviling and hauling a mattress that stinks like someone died and came back to life on it? Hah.]

Either that, or clean it off and pass it to Colleen. She might have an idea where it could've come from, at least. [Judging from his tone he doesn't really believe this.] I don't feel like asking the police to investigate the place. You?

[Do you want to explain to Brett what you've been up to for the past few years, Foggy? Do you?]

—uh. [UHHHH.] You can go first. The sooner we can both get this smell off the better. [One step.] For what it's worth, though, you smell much better than my bedroom does.

[ Plausible deniability? Of course, because he didn't leave that behind with a whole lot of other things, like his sanity, when he discovered Matt enjoyed wearing spandex and running around on rooftops. If only it had been some kind of weird fetish. He could have worked with it a lot easier and set Matt up in some 'groups' for that sort of thing. Safer ones than what he found himself in now, of course.

Lips curled up, he set down the box of matches to go and help Matt with the mattress. The closer he moved to it, the more his eyes started to sting. The smell nearly consumed him but he tried his best to not look too bothered by it. ]

No, I don't want the police to investigate! Who do you think they'll blame for this? [ Certainly not the one who couldn't even SEE. ] We'll just chuck the katana in the river and be done with it. Trying to transfer it to Colleen might be too risky of a thing to do.

[ When they made it up to the roof, Foggy let out a displeased groan. ]

You need to electrify your windows and everything. Then we can just have one boring night in. That's all I ask. Something without blood and death.

[Sorry it wasn't a weird fetish, bro. If it helps, Matt's found one group all by himself. The fact that this group includes Jessica Jones, the Hero of Harlem, and a billionaire with a glowing fist is immaterial and irrelevant.

Anyway: yay, help! Matt is really glad for it, because if Foggy's having a bad time with the smell, imagine how Matt's feeling. The scent of dried blood is almost overwhelming, leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He does not fix Foggy with a Look, because he's gagging a little on the smell too, but he does tilt his head and frown concernedly in his general direction, where his silhouette is in Matt's impressionistic view of their surroundings.]

I'll do it. [People have seen Daredevil do weirder things than chuck a sword into the Hudson.

Okay, no, they have not, but it wouldn't be too surprising. He aims a sloppy kick to the door behind him when they make it up the stairs at last, and together they drag the mattress out onto the roof and drop it there.]

I'll take that under consideration. [And then he's never going to put it into place because it would be too much of an inconvenience, from his point of view. Still, he has to acknowledge the fact that, yeah—he needs to find some way to better secure his apartment.] A boring night in, huh? I assume this includes that series on Netflix you were talking about last week.

[ Straightening out his spine, Foggy let out a low and still very displeased groan with the direction the night had taken. Matt had some kind of danger magnet and all the worst of the worst were drawn in. The guy who couldn't die being a prime example. Arms folded across his chest to further his image of 'nope', he responded with - ]

You don't plan on doing a damn thing because then it'll be harder for you to just fling yourself through the window.

[ Don't forget how well he knew you, Matt. His b.s. meter never faltered when it came to the other man. They knew far too much to when it all came down to it. Matt a little too much with that nose of his.

Talk about constant embarrassment. ]

[ Okay, his eyes might have lit up a little at the mention of Netflix. Ah the simple pleasures in life. Netflix, some wine and good food - his constant companion lately.

Was that sad sounding? ]

If you think your devil may care attitude could adjust to just sitting and having me to describe to you everything going on. You know you live for my commentary.

[ His eyes gazed over at the ledge of the roof. ] We're going to need to go and get you another bed.

[Don't call him out like this!!!]

It's a bit more than just flinging myself out the window. [It absolutely is just him flinging himself out the window in a red devil costume, like it's Halloween. He cocks an ear in Foggy's direction, because Matt might not be able to see shit but he knows for a fact that neither of them have been getting a lot of companionship lately.

He can't lie, he does like the idea of having Foggy keep up a running commentary on the series. Sure, he could use the commentary actually provided by Netflix, but that's less fun.]

Yeah, well. [He shrugs.] I like the sound of your voice more than the sound of whoever's narrating, in the actual commentary. [Is that a line. Matt, is that a fucking line?]

I can sleep on the couch. It's fine.

[He's gotten used to smell of dried blood off of it, so.]

You're right. It's flinging yourself back inside too. [ He gave a pointed look, not caring in the least bit Matt couldn't appreciate the gaze in all its glory. The sensing it would be enough for now, his hands wafting through the air slowly as he kept talking - ranting?

But he stopped short on the importance of locks and latches at the - line? Murdock charm 101, oh, he knew it all too well and the words were usually followed by a sheepish grin and what would be referred to as bedroom eyes.

His own eyes widened a little but he bounced back quickly enough. Hopefully. ]

You're full of shit, Murdock. [ A pause. ] We're getting you a bed tomorrow. Got it?

Now, come on. I need a drink.

ic inbox.

idk they're happy again shush

cosigned.

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lbr it's totally deadpool

yes and he thinks it is hilarious.

just rolling along nyc like "i bet horny's going to love the sword!!"

he might actually get some with a cool ass sword!!

deadpool out here just trying to help his horny buddy out

murderous wingman.

how to woo people deadpool-stylez: one, murder. two, PROFIT

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