It started to be conceived when I lost my place, but could work for you. Again, it's up to you. If you're not comfortable, you can leave. If you want to stay, you can. You know I'll support you no matter what, and so will Clint.
My thoughts exactly.
Matt waved off his aid during Henry's final months, murmuring, "It was the least I could do." Honestly, he'd known the man was ill before the announcement was made. He could tell the man was dying. A gift and curse Stick left him. To say anything would have been invasive and wrong. He'd let them come to terms with it, announce it - and be ready to offer what help they'd accept. Sometimes, death couldn't be fought. It terrified Matt. He knew that was true all too well.
Matt knew what the church society meant. The women were fiercely loving and loyal, but also terrifying and ferocious. They sought to pick and paw at every offering, to play with it to their satisfaction. Even as well meaning as they were, Matt didn't underestimate them. Women who had grown up in Hell's Kitchen, who had raised families there. Women who stood tall and proud against so much that said they were wrong and lesser, who fought tooth and nail to keep their place in a society that wanted to erase them for a higher price point. Women who put on their Sunday best and coiffed their hair but rinsed it out for the next week and went to work that night.
There were richer archdiocese. Wealthier, prettier, more endowed and resourced.
They had nothing on the Hell's Kitchen churches. They fought tooth and nail to stay alive, to stay afloat. Gossip was fun, little asides tittering, but at the end of the day?
Hell's Kitchen looked after their own.
Matthew Murdock was theirs.
Kate had every reason to feel judged, and Matt was quick to swoop in to ease the landing, because while Kate had a great start he wanted her to feel at home here with people that mattered to him.
There was a hum, and Matt interjected with, "She's working alongside organizations aligned with the community, to make sure that the fundraising actually meets what the need are."
Linda studied them, head tilted. "You'll have to tell us about this event, dear. If we're invited, we'd of course love to attend." Where some little near-broke church in the Kitchen welcome? It was a test. "After all, we've known Matthew and the local nonprofits for years. Written letters, made calls. Those whisper phones now in the parochial schools, that was our doing. So please, do tell us of any events. We want to support them." She reached over and gave Kate's hand a little squeeze, then turned around as the mass was about to start.
Yeah, that makes sense. I know we didn't discuss it much back when it happened because, well, a lot was going on. But I'm sorry about what happened with your place, Matt. For now I'm okay, I'm good at the penthouse. Guess I just gotta get used to it? And it's not like I'm alone.
In all honesty, even though the request had taken Kate aback and normally she wasn't big on including religion when it came to business... Was there a real good reason to exclude the ladies of the church from their event?
Kate herself was used to be the outsider, happy to stick out like a sore thumb ever since she reached her rebellious teens. It drove her mother up the wall how she sometimes refused to follow the expected etiquette and rules. Wearing what she was not supposed to wear. Saying the wrong but honest thing in front of the wrong people. She had openly questioned their privileges and of those around them a million times. Kate had questioned their true reasons to throw a lavish event with the excuse of raising donations. It felt like an oximoron. Most of the companies that dropped big sums of money normally wanted to evade taxes instead of erasing hunger from the world.
"You'll have to crochet yourself something real fancy, Linda." Kate assured them. "We'll love to have you guys there." Kate glanced at Matthew briefly, at his calm but reassuring presenced behind those red tinted lenses of his. She'd bring up local non-profit organizations later. The board would hate her, as she had already heard complains about how much bigger the event was growing, how many associations were being involved and would take their fat shares of the money.
Kate couldn't care less. They were aiming to spend as little on the event itself, keeping it, all things considered, humble. Giving a stage to disabled artists to perform instead of bringing in a big name to gather the attention of the media. Letting disabled chefs take care of the menu. No renowed chefs. Every cent was going to the organizations.
They were doing something that, hopefully, truly mattered.
It was sudden. Kate noticed that everyone seemed expectant and ready. She sat a little more upright, turning slightly towards Matt. "I feel like I just went through some kind of test," she confessed in the quietest of whispers, well aware that Matt would hear without a problem.
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streetlevel) wrote2024-12-23 08:39 pm
LISTEN, as someone raised Catholic, there is nothing more hardcore than a church lady.
My thoughts exactly.
Matt waved off his aid during Henry's final months, murmuring, "It was the least I could do." Honestly, he'd known the man was ill before the announcement was made. He could tell the man was dying. A gift and curse Stick left him. To say anything would have been invasive and wrong. He'd let them come to terms with it, announce it - and be ready to offer what help they'd accept. Sometimes, death couldn't be fought. It terrified Matt. He knew that was true all too well.
Matt knew what the church society meant. The women were fiercely loving and loyal, but also terrifying and ferocious. They sought to pick and paw at every offering, to play with it to their satisfaction. Even as well meaning as they were, Matt didn't underestimate them. Women who had grown up in Hell's Kitchen, who had raised families there. Women who stood tall and proud against so much that said they were wrong and lesser, who fought tooth and nail to keep their place in a society that wanted to erase them for a higher price point. Women who put on their Sunday best and coiffed their hair but rinsed it out for the next week and went to work that night.
There were richer archdiocese. Wealthier, prettier, more endowed and resourced.
They had nothing on the Hell's Kitchen churches. They fought tooth and nail to stay alive, to stay afloat. Gossip was fun, little asides tittering, but at the end of the day?
Hell's Kitchen looked after their own.
Matthew Murdock was theirs.
Kate had every reason to feel judged, and Matt was quick to swoop in to ease the landing, because while Kate had a great start he wanted her to feel at home here with people that mattered to him.
There was a hum, and Matt interjected with, "She's working alongside organizations aligned with the community, to make sure that the fundraising actually meets what the need are."
Linda studied them, head tilted. "You'll have to tell us about this event, dear. If we're invited, we'd of course love to attend." Where some little near-broke church in the Kitchen welcome? It was a test. "After all, we've known Matthew and the local nonprofits for years. Written letters, made calls. Those whisper phones now in the parochial schools, that was our doing. So please, do tell us of any events. We want to support them." She reached over and gave Kate's hand a little squeeze, then turned around as the mass was about to start.
Oh, yes, I'm familiar and wholeheartedly agree XD
But I'm sorry about what happened with your place, Matt.
For now I'm okay, I'm good at the penthouse. Guess I just gotta get used to it? And it's not like I'm alone.
In all honesty, even though the request had taken Kate aback and normally she wasn't big on including religion when it came to business... Was there a real good reason to exclude the ladies of the church from their event?
Kate herself was used to be the outsider, happy to stick out like a sore thumb ever since she reached her rebellious teens. It drove her mother up the wall how she sometimes refused to follow the expected etiquette and rules. Wearing what she was not supposed to wear. Saying the wrong but honest thing in front of the wrong people. She had openly questioned their privileges and of those around them a million times. Kate had questioned their true reasons to throw a lavish event with the excuse of raising donations. It felt like an oximoron. Most of the companies that dropped big sums of money normally wanted to evade taxes instead of erasing hunger from the world.
"You'll have to crochet yourself something real fancy, Linda." Kate assured them. "We'll love to have you guys there." Kate glanced at Matthew briefly, at his calm but reassuring presenced behind those red tinted lenses of his. She'd bring up local non-profit organizations later. The board would hate her, as she had already heard complains about how much bigger the event was growing, how many associations were being involved and would take their fat shares of the money.
Kate couldn't care less. They were aiming to spend as little on the event itself, keeping it, all things considered, humble. Giving a stage to disabled artists to perform instead of bringing in a big name to gather the attention of the media. Letting disabled chefs take care of the menu. No renowed chefs. Every cent was going to the organizations.
They were doing something that, hopefully, truly mattered.
It was sudden. Kate noticed that everyone seemed expectant and ready. She sat a little more upright, turning slightly towards Matt. "I feel like I just went through some kind of test," she confessed in the quietest of whispers, well aware that Matt would hear without a problem.