25 December 2013 @ 02:11 am
[ There's some snuffling and a slight wet patch on the screen as the feed begins, shuffling around, and a light-hearted struggle between dog and man taking place while the image shakes around. ]

Hey, boy, stop that. Give it here.

[ Winning, Clint wipes off the device and turns it so that he's visibly lounging across the sofa in pyjama bottoms and a vest with blankets over his lap and two large dogs lying contently over his lower body. He's in high spirits in spite of the time of year and the fact that he'll be spending it alone, but the bottle of whiskey beside him isn't doing any harm. ]

Hey, City. Guess it's that time again, huh? Clocks about to strike midnight, so I figured I'd make the effort and wish you guys a Merry Christmas. Everyone got plans for tomorrow? Just me and these two idiots here, but I've had worse experiences. And if anyone wants to sneak in a quick drink or something? Let me know.

[ The camera starts shaking again, a white paw trying to reach something on his lap, which he picks up and throws off to the side. ]

Well, I hope the jolly guy brings you everything you want.

[ With that, and an audible bang in the background, Clint grins down the lens and ends the feed, clearly getting up as he does to rush off and pick up the tree for the third time. ]
25 November 2013 @ 01:52 am
[ Video ]

Guess it's that time again, huh?

[ He's never been big on crowds, but he doesn't appear to mind one way or the other about the extra people wandering the streets this weekend as he sits outside a café nursing a steaming cup of coffee - he's been here long enough to know how it works, anyway, and the company's not so bad. Besides, there's always the chance that someone he knows will put in an appearance, and even if they don't stick around after, he'll take what he can get where he can get it. ]

Never been good at sitting back and relaxing, but I think we've earned a weekend off. Anyone turns up I'd wanna know about? A head's up would be appreciated.

[ Action ]

[ Seeking Clint out around the City isn't a difficult thing unless he means not to be seen, but being aware of what the weekend signifies, he's leaving himself within viewing distance and sporting an expression that's as approachable as he's ever going to manage, so don't be afraid to bump into him and make your presence known.

He can be found perching on various things around the City, hanging out up on the rooftop of his apartment building, wandering aimlessly or with two dogs in tow, taking a run through the park, shooting arrows at appropriate targets or venturing through the woods, so there's plenty of places he could be spotted.

[ OOC: Fourth wall post where anyone is welcome, so feel free to find him wherever you want and he'll roll with it. ]
29 September 2013 @ 03:15 am

[ He gives a casual nod to go with the greeting, and as opposed to the last few weeks, Clint appears as close to happy as he's willing to express in public, which is partly due to the fact that he's no longer sporting the purple cast on his arm. He holds it up and wiggles his fingers. ]

Guess who's fully functional again. [ Well, almost, there's still some stiffness and a little muscle definition to regain, but the bone has healed, so he can work with the rest. He turns the camera towards the mantle where the disregarded cast, doodles and squiggles included, stands proudly like a trophy on display. ] It's been almost a week since it came off, so if anyone wants to take me up on those archery lessons or wants to do some training, I'm ready.

[ The image wobbles as he goes over to the big window where he plops himself down onto the wide sill, capturing half of his fast and the goings-on of the City spread out below. ]

So, this carnival, anyone plan on going? It's been a while since I've seen one in action that didn't try to eat me alive. [ He may or may not sound more excited than a full-grown man probably should, but he's not really bothered. ] Oh, and has anyone seen Tasha? [ This time around, she didn't decide to stay with him at the apartment, so he can't tell for certain, but he's pretty sure she left again. He's trying not to let it get to him, but maybe later. ] Haven't seen her around all week, I kinda miss being glared at and insulted.

[ He offers a quick salute before switching off the feed. ]
20 August 2013 @ 11:39 pm
[ The feed starts recording and instantly there's a blurred flash of purple, muttered curses and bitter mumbling as the device clearly slips out from someone's grasp. ]

It's always the left one.

[ When the image steadies, Clint appears on the screen looking somewhat more uplifted than usual, eyes blown wide as the pain killers he's taken kick in. And then he's holding the thing up in hopes that he's sporting off his shiny new cast of purple decorating his left forearm. ]

Guess who got too confident and misjudged a landing from one rooftop to another? [ He pulls the device in close, too close, and beams down at the lens. ] You guessed right. It was me.

[ He frowns openly, glaring down at it and squirming in the wheelchair he's been dumped in as he waits to be discharged. ] Anyone got something long and pointy? It itches.

[ And, again, distracted, Clint looks up and across the open waiting room, squinting at someone across the other side. ] And there's a doctor who keeps trying to catch my eye. Quick, someone come save me, 'cause this isn't how I--

[ The device slips again before the feed cuts out. ]

[ OOC: The doctor in question is [personal profile] dr_conscience, and everyone should feel free to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid before he comes down. ]
31 July 2013 @ 11:12 pm
Glad to see everything's getting back to normal.

Speaking of, since Tasha left I've been lacking a drinking partner. Anyone feel like auditioning while it's quiet?

[ OOC: Belatedly, I'm returning from hiatus, so just assume he's been around on autopilot. ]
27 May 2013 @ 11:41 pm
[ Clint appears on the screen looking happy, or as happy as he's capable of outwardly expressing while still feeling comfortable in his surroundings, and he's definitely in his element up on the rooftop of the apartment building, nothing but blue sky and burning sun in the background making him squint against it. ]

Anyone for barbeque? [ It's still early, which gives him time to make more room and tidy the area a bit, but he's not left the apartment much in recent weeks, and while he's got the nagging suspicion the hot weather will probably come at a price, he figures there's no point letting it go to waste while it's there. ] Alcohol included. Might even be a hose around here to fill up the portal pool.

Let me know who's in, I'll make sure there's plenty to go around.

[ OOC: If enough people want in, there could be a log? ]
07 April 2013 @ 04:20 pm
[ The feed comes up under the name Clint Barton, but who appears on the screen isn't the man everyone knows and loves. Instead, there's a beautiful woman with long hair and familiar eyes, and sporting a casual, carefree stance. ]

Well, I spent the whole of yesterday getting reacquainted with myself, so it's only fair the rest of you get to have at it today.

[ He steals a not-exactly-subtle glance down at himself and smirks; he's enjoying this more than he should be. ]

Can't really see why people find this inconvenient.

[ OOC: So, Clint is a girl for Grab Bag weekend, and replies will be coming from [personal profile] lastchance. ]
01 March 2013 @ 03:40 am
[ The feed starts to play with blurs of colour, the image shaky and the audio muffled sounds of movement and scrabbling with the faintest clip-clop of tiny feet on hardwood flooring and energetic whimpering.

But it stops when there's a heavy thud as the device clearly falls from a slight distance, the screen turning black momentarily from the impact, and then settling on the ceiling above, catching sight of a bouncy husky puppy attempting to clamber up onto a couch with a jacket hanging over the edge where it's pulled it down visible at the edge of the screen.

There's the sound of human footfalls carrying closer, and a soft, amused chuckle as a Clint-shaped shadow casts over the view.

You've barely been here an hour and already you're trashing the place. Can't get up? [ He sounds more fond than put out, and he crouches down to push the panting puppy up from below, allowing the pretence that it managed it itself. ] Don't worry, Tasha'll probably think it's me. Taking one for the team, right?

[ Foot kicking the device as he straightens up, Clint scoops up the device and groans when he realises it's recording. ]

So much for being discrete.

[ Private to Natasha ]

12 January 2013 @ 12:03 am
[ The nightmares at the start of the curse might have been somewhat of a give-away, but Clint's used to them; Loki, pulling his strings, the blood on his hands, a struggling fight to regain the control that's always just out of reach, Phil's name amongst the dead. He carries the guilt around with him every day without fail, and no matter what Natasha told him, how much reassurance she gave that it wasn't his fault, he knows better. And when he wakes in a cold sweat, lingering ice blue in his eyes and pallid complexion staring back at him in the mirror, he tends not to think too much on it beyond it being another day and the knowledge that he's still alive.

But as a creature with Loki's face bursts into the apartment, banging down the door after some effort, hissing taunts, following him around and always managing to catch up no matter how much he shakes it off, he realises something isn't right. That, and there are others visible through windows and openly wandering the streets. He stays up high as much as possible when it's clear staying still isn't an option, coming down only for supplies - food, water, arrows - and takes aim, helping fleeing and terrified victims in slowing down their own demons.

A part of him comes to realise that these things can only be killed by those they are connected to, and anything he does to any of them other than Loki can only slow them down, hold them off for a while, but he takes his time in killing his own, knowing the thing would rather shadow him, to remind him of its power and the damage it can do, bringing up things he wants to forget and can't than attack others, so he lets himself be haunting until he can't take it any more, until even he knows he doesn't deserve to bear the burden any longer.

The thing comes up behind him when he waits on the roof of his apartment building like a sitting duck, but he knows it's there, expects it, and he drops the bow in his hand in favour of focusing on the blade he's wielding instead. He takes it down with some effort, the two of them rolling around for a time as they each try to get the upper-hand, and Clint's device flies from his pocket at some point, switching on with the knock of a button against the surface. He's tired, exhausted even, and it shows, but the second he manages to pin Loki down - the ghoul, whatever the hell it is - and holds him there long enough, Clint brings up the thick blade and drives it down, hard, and without mercy, stabbing the thing straight through the heart, digging the dagger in as deep as possible, twisting it, a hand around the things throat to make it stop hissing. He doesn't stop, doesn't let go until the thing - Loki - stops.

He pulls the dagger free, sitting back on his feet and slumping forward, slowly catching his breath.

Guess you were right, I do have heart. [ He's got an arrow in hand, twirling it around, and when he finds the momentum to move, he pushes himself forward and drives the arrowhead straight through his eye, a bitter smirk on his face. ] That's for Phil you sorry piece of shit.

[ OOC: Because I'm late in posting this, Clint can be found at any point throughout the event as far as action goes - on the ground, up high, generally running around wherever works for whatever - and willing to help out anyone who needs it that he crosses paths with. ]
01 January 2013 @ 04:15 am
The guys running the show really need to work on their sense of humour.

[ Private || Derek Hale ]

You received any messages from Stiles?
13 November 2012 @ 03:34 pm
[ It's been eight days. Eight whole days. Better late than never, right? But in case anyone's yet to figure it out, he feels the need to make the announcement. He's sticking to text to avoid a metaphor slipping out; that's his story and he's sticking to it, okay? Okay. ]

Agent Phil Coulson has left the City.
03 November 2012 @ 03:49 pm
[ Clint's not planning on admitting to it any time soon, but the conversation he had with Phil recently about everything that happened before either of them arrived here has been weighing on him a little, and he knows that he's not been the best person to be around lately. Well, less so than usual, at least, and that's when he's not been going off alone.

So he's up earlier than he's been used to, dressed, and out walking Fury around the streets of the City, a take-out cup of coffee in hand. It's not that he doesn't often walk their dog, but he doesn't usually do it quite so early, especially not on a weekend, and this way Phil gets to sleep in without Fury barking for attention and waking up the whole building.

Sometimes he's slow on the uptake when it comes to personal things, better at shrugging them off than dealing with them, but Clint's finally settling into everything, thankful that he's been given chances he would never have had at home, and he's happy. He knows how lucky he is and he doesn't plan on taking it for granted.

He's in a good mood, even smiling outright without attempting to conceal it, and even the fact he's noticed that there are far more people out in the streets, the majority looking puzzled, which can only mean another long weekend of strangers flooding can't dampen his good spirits.

He should probably know by now that this amount of contentment can never last.

[ OOC: Fourth wall! Feel free to run into him anywhere around the City. ]
31 October 2012 @ 08:31 pm

[ Clint appears on the screen wearing a somewhat modernised Robin Hood costume, which he's actually starting to favour, quiver and arrows perched just so on his back, and wavering in and out of shot is his bow placed down beside him on the living room floor. But he's too preoccupied with putting Fury into his more traditional Robin Hood costume than the fact he's shifted his leg and knocked the precious weapon into the device, switching it on accidentally.

He's grinning at his work when he finishes, even though this dog costume is the back-up, but Phil isn't currently around to ask if he knows where the Director Fury one is - not that he's mislaid it or anything. He fusses over Fury, rubbing at the dog's ears who wags his tail happily and lets his tongue loll out to one side of his mouth where he sits between Clint's parted legs, and he puts on a voice he doesn't wish for anyone to witness.
] You're adorable. Yes, you are. All the other doggies are gonna be so jealous. You'll have to them it's 'cause your daddy is awesome. Yes, you will.

[ And this is the point where, after giggling - yes, giggling, although not exactly like a school girl - as he gets a face full of tongue, he realises the red light is on. He snatches it up, shrugs, and smiles at it. ]

Happy Halloween.


[ Later, out in the streets long after the sun has set, Clint can be seen flashing from one place of concealment to another, bow in hand and ready to use if necessary, as he goes in search of rich people to steal from and poor people to offer the treasures to. Of course, if he happens to run across a damsel in distress, he's now apparently the kind of guy who enjoys sweeping in and saving the day. ]

[ OOC: Feel free to speak to Clint before the curse takes hold via the device or to run into him somewhere out and about. ]
19 September 2012 @ 06:45 am
[ 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:


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. ]
26 August 2012 @ 04:43 am
[ Clint is out wandering the streets, and he may or may not been tailing a certain someone, keeping them safe within his sights, bow concealed about him in case it's necessary.

The video feed doesn't start rolling until he rushes into the road to scoop up a dog that's about to get run down, the device dropping out of his pocket and setting going when the dog puts a paw on the wrong button.

Once he's given the dog a quick look over, Clint is grinning in a way he rarely does out in the open for just anyone to see, hands petting it all over and ruffling its hair, and he's speaking in a voice that is worthy of mocking.

You scared the crap out of me, yes you did. [ The dog cuts him off only long enough to slobber all over his face, which draws out an actual giggle. ] You're a good doggy, aren't you? Aren't you? Yes, you are. Here - [ He fishes out a dog treat from his pocket, something he sneaks Fury when Coulson isn't looking. ] - that better? 'Course it is.

[ OOC: Feel free to have anyone be in the area or find him later on, or even be the dog in question. Clint really loves dogs, okay? ]
15 August 2012 @ 06:53 pm
[ The first thing that comes into view is the inside of a jacket pocket, fingers grabbing at it in their attempt to rummage deeper, and then a blur of colour as it slides out and drops to the floor with a thud. ]

Hey, Phil, you seen the--?

[ Further noises of things being moved around and a close-up of a spectacular jeans-glad ass later with the treads of boots that might be familiar to some, and Clint comes into view, grinning triumphantly with a dog lead held up in one hand and a pleased looking dog butting at the other. ]

Call off the back-up, I got it. [ And this is far too victorious - no, but, really, he lives like a slob, finding anything before Coulson makes him tidy up is an impossible mission - and it's clearly deserving of him crawling over to the couch, knee nudging the device along with him, and throwing his arms up around what he can reach of Phil, pulling him down, and kissing him right on the mouth for everyone to see. ] Leave the repeats of Supernanny and come with? Trouble might be out there waiting for us, and we all know how that ends.

[ OOC: Feel free to throw people at him while he's out and about with Fury. ]
28 July 2012 @ 05:19 pm
[ It's late evening, which is quickly turning into night, and the blizzard is slowing to a stop, flakes of snow still falling down around him, but the ferociousness of it has calmed enough to be out in it, standing upon the masses of endless white, and in the middle of building a line of uncannily familiar looking snowmen. One, however, is distinctly a lady snowman because of the extra mounds positioned just so. He doesn't have a family to call his own, not anymore, and without really realising it this is the best he can come up with when regressing into an eight year old.

Clint's grinning, cheeks patchy with red where the cold's bitten him, and he's wearing the usual jeans and a t-shirt with a jacket that's far from appropriate. But he doesn't care, he's enjoying himself, maybe a bit too much, and there's a black Labrador - Fury - bouncing up and down in the snow with his tailing swishing from side to side and tongue lolling out.

He turns the camera onto the snow Avengers, seven figures standing one next to the other and distinguishable, and then grins into the device.
] So, what do we think? Hang on, don't tell me. I know. [ Far too serious, with a dry tone. ] I should've been an artist.
16 July 2012 @ 10:24 pm
[ Clint is up high, crouching on the rooftop of the apartment building where he lives, bow close to hand and visible on the video feed. He's engulfed in shadow, but the city casts enough light around him to make everything out more or less. He's quiet, thoughtful, as he watches, like he's waiting for something, but it's habit, what he does best, and it's comforting to be doing something he's used to, the open view giving him a sense of freedom.

If he's keeping a lookout for trouble, well, it's an added bonus that he happens to be prepared for it.

He sounds distant when he speaks, distracted, voice as dry as ever, but with something softer around the edges.
] So, City, this's what I do at night. How about the rest of you guys out there? Long way from home, I can't be the only one not sleeping.
01 July 2012 @ 03:07 am
[ Filtered to Phil and Natasha. ]

Do we know what's with the headless chickens? New arrivals never come in crowds like this. Hey, sir, if it's an invasion, do I have permission to fire at will? Got an itch I've been dying to scratch.

[ OOC: Fourth wall! Feel free to run into him anywhere. It's possible he's out walking Coulson's black labrador and carrying his bow. ]
24 June 2012 @ 02:25 pm
[ Clint is a quiet calm that keeps to himself unless it's necessary not to, carrying an unspoken air of authority, but anyone who's ever seen him in action knows that's when he truly comes to life, and it's not something to mess with if it can be avoided. It should be noted that taking the bow he uses in place of a gun for granted (not that he doesn't carry a gun besides, of course) isn't the wisest thing to do, and the last person who did isn't around to tell the tale.

He's not the sheriff, he doesn't care enough for the rules to take that position even though he probably could if he wanted to, but he is a law unto his own who attempts to keep the peace, a lone ranger with eyes and ears on everything with the ability to blend into the background and remain out of sight. If there happens to be others out there like him around, well, he'll easily group up if their goals are the same.

But when things aren't serious, Clint knows how to let go and have fun, and he's got quite a reputation around the saloons.

He gets around, so if someone happens to bump into him somewhere it wouldn't be unheard of, and if there's trouble he'll be there.