poly_chromatic | [ 007 ] ♐ [ Accidental Video ]

[ Clint likes to consider himself someone who can appreciate humour in its many forms, if delivering sarcastic retorts wherever he can fit them in counts for anything, but this - this isn't amusing him in the slightest.

Hair sticking up at odd angles and pillow creases still faintly etched into his cheek, Clint appears closed off, and he's not usually one for open expressions at the best of times, but it's as if he's shut down, been replaced with a cyborg. If it weren't for the haunted glint in his eyes that catches the light occasionally, he might even come across as menacing. He certainly feels murderous.

If he were in the mood, Clint might make some joke about not knowing whether he's more shaken by the text on the t-shirt he seems to have acquired or the fact that it's white, because white is so not his colour. ]

All the dark secrets I sit on day in and day out, and I get this shit. [ He's muttering to himself, the words hard and cold, biting as he spits them out, and he's unaware that he's knocked the device in his rage, slamming the thing down on the kitchen counter as he works on getting coffee inside him so he can make his escape to somewhere high and concealed. ] The one fucking thing I've managed to avoid and it bites me in the ass.

[ The t-shirt sports large, bold text with the following printed across every space it can fill up, unable to be missed by anyone with eyes:

I WAS POSSESSED BY LOKI AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT

He's thrilled. ]

'Cause I don't carry the weight of being Loki's bitch and the blood he put on my hands enough, right? [ And that's before the betrayal to those he owes everything to, and the knowledge that if he hadn't helped Loki then Phil would never have been-- ] Fuck this.

[ OOC: Feel free to catch him wherever within the City, but he might not be in the best of moods. ]

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[Steve's practically dead on his feet but he didn't go to sleep like Bucky told him to. Instead he's out and about again, when he looks up and raises a hand. He knows how to find snipers, the super soldier senses are good for something.]

( She recognizes him from the video. Usually she wouldn't bother to garner his attention, but the word Loki was...interesting. )

Possessed, hm? And by a Norse god at that. ( Crossing her arms over her chest, Alexiel tilts her head. ) What did he make you do?

[Charlie's own shirt is obscured by an apron. The words "BURNED" "200 ACRES" and "LOUSY T-SHIRT" are visible. She'll explain if he asks.]

You need anything?

[Mainly an ear. She can offer an ear.]

[Firstly, bloody hell, because she was actually on... disturbingly good terms with Loki while he was here. Best not mention that, it makes her feel a little sick to look back on it in hindsight.

Secondly, their shirts are almost twins. Which is why she's replying to this by video. I WAS POSSESSED is just as big and bold on hers as it is on his. There's something of a grim smile on her lips.]

We should start a club.

[ Swinging down beside Clint on the edge of one of the City's many rooftops. ]

Explains a lot.

[ There's always one that's got to ask, can't not let curiosity win out while all tact leaves the building. But he's had a moment to calm down, not one to outwardly let loose all that often, and if anything the question makes him close off further.

It takes a while to answer, a shrug coming first from where he's perched on the edge of a building, legs dangling over the side. He looks down at his hands. ] Switch sides, kill innocents. The usual.

[ A part of him screams yes, the simple word echoing around his mind, but what comes out is the opposite, a casual shrug to go with it, and his expression as blank as before. ]

Nah, I'm good. [ He might not keep his gaze on the screen, but he's been trained to spot things without taking too long in doing so. ] Looks like you've got your own story.

[ He's reluctant to speak to anyone on the subject, but he's not a dick, not beneath it all, and he likes Ginny. But it's the close to identical shirt that's impossible to overlook that really draws him out. ]

I'm up for being co-founder as long as it stays within the club.

[ Clint knows he's there before he drops down to join him, the fact that few others would be up high and the footfalls are somewhat of a give away.

Without taking his eyes off the city at large, but not exactly opposed to the company. ] What does it explain?

[ After jumping around from one rooftop to another, ducking and diving to let off some steam, Clint settles somewhere near the fountain out of plain sight - being left alone in this mood with the ticking to add to it and he's not loving the outcome. ]

You're almost as bad as Tasha.

[Steve strolls over, casual like]

Because I can find you?

[She would have understood if he ignored her, but there's something quietly reassuring about knowing someone's been through the same thing. Maybe it's an awful thing to share and understand, but it's a little better than feeling alone in it.]

Are you kidding? Running secret organisations is what I do best.

[ He shrugs. ] And the stealth. I'd throw Coulson in there, but I'm pretty sure he's had me tracked for years.

I thought I was usually pretty obvious.

[He just has his hands in his pockets.]

Yeah. It's kind of a huge one. [She doesn't want to talk about it just yet.]

You sure you're okay? Because I'm not sure.

[ Bucky fingers something in his coat pocket before he drags out a cheap, tarnished hip flask and offers it over. ] Here. Drink this. And don't you dare throw yourself over the edge, Barton. I'm not about to try and catch you.

[ It's his own gruff, ridiculous way. ] This curse is awful, huh?

( Phil's seen this almost as soon as it came up, but he's figured that giving Clint some space is the best he can do in the situation.

Even so, he's got a fire going in the apartment and there's a pot of coffee, impossibly strong, waiting while he's working on some paper work and biding his time until Clint comes home. )

[ He looks at it, shrugs, and takes it, unscrewing the top for a swig before passing it back. ] No intention of jumping. Enough of this? Might get the job done if I topple over.

[ He gives him a look, as if to say 'duh', but it's got a fondness there, appreciative even. ] Not my favourite. You got hit with it, too?

Yeah well, y'start wavering I'll take the flask of you and call the good Agent.

[ A silent nod, his smile hollow and false. ] Yeah. Unfortunate and all.

Can't ever claim you're anything but a buddy with an attitude like that. [ He would never fall, though, or at least he strongly doubts, drunk or not, but, hey, it's nice having friends. ] You gonna tell me or should I start guessing?

It's pretty much already explained.

[ Snagging back the hip flask with a quirk of his mouth. ]

[ Clint lifts his head up, shifts Bucky's arm out of the way to get a glimpse at the shirt and the writing on it, a look of acknowledgement flashing over his features. ]

Guess it is.

Humour me. It's compliment you or admit I'm off my game.

[ He does look into the device, then, a tug of the lips at one side, voice slightly bitter. ]

I could be better, but I've been worse. That counts, right?

Absolutely. On any day, that counts.

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