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Age: 31
Player: Fishy!
Joined: 26-December 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Mar 15 2018, 01:00 AM
Local Time: Mar 19 2018, 04:18 AM
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Street Level

My Content
Feb 22 2018, 02:26 AM
In the days since Clint's group had come to the island that they were all grouped up on, the normally friendly archer had kept to himself. It was clear to him that he was an outsider, from the moment he'd woken up in the middle of a strange field with some loudmouth little man screaming at them, he'd understood that he was wildly out of place. He was not cut out for this do-gooder hero shit, made even plainer when they'd worked together to try and keep Tom alive instead of just throwing him to the carnivorous plants to slow them down as they made a run for it.

When he'd first caught sight of the very person, he'd ended up in this crazy place because of, Shane had been fully rocked out and from what the archer could guess he was pissed. The rocky man had stayed a rock, fretting over the injured girl who'd ended up coming in with him. It just seemed like a bad moment to say anything, mostly because he waited originally for Shane to just stop being a pile of rocks and turn back into a person but it didn't happen.

Clint was the ultimate outsider, he was clearly not an X-Man, and even though he'd once had a run in at a bookstore (just a few days ago actually what a small world) with an apparent member of the Brotherhood, he sure didn't belong there. So he spent time with the one person who felt just as much of an outsider as he did, Bongani was happy enough to spend time hunting and cleaning their kills. Plus when Clint was away from the camp he didn't have to think or worry about the one person he was avoiding like the plague. At first, it was easy to keep himself busy, the people needed to eat, and the injured needed help, so it was natural that there was no real time to chat. Yet as more and more people showed up to shoulder the burned of taking care of everyone Clint found himself at an awkward place. He should have said something days ago, should have made a better attempt at something.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do, but he swore if someone looked at him one more time like they could see through him he was going to just leave them in charge of skinning the animals.

Waiting until Slate had been fixed and turned into a regular person again seemed like it was a reasonable thing to do, maybe he was not himself when he was a giant stone dude? Instead of actually having a conversation with the healed and once more fleshy teacher, he just continued finding stuff to do that kept him busy. Things that kept him too busy to sit to have a chat and kept him away from the camp were the best, but in the end, he just ended up feeling worse about the whole thing.

Put plainly Clint felt stupid. He'd made a sort of dumb decision by coming to the Savage Land with the others without a proper invitation, he'd just felt like he was needed and so he'd come thinking it was going to be simple. He was a foolish man to think that anything to do with Shane Adler was going to be simple, after the ninjas and the trip to Kun Lun he should have known that anything involving the mutant teacher and his superpowered team was going to be bad news. He could have been at home watching trash TV on his couch with his dog and yet instead he was out in the middle of the jungle with a bunch of people who didn't actually know how long had passed. Rumor was that the people who'd originally come had been stuck somewhere around three years in this weird jungle, three years was a long time to forget about someone that was not really that important in the scheme of things.


It was the morning of the 10th day they'd been in the jungle (or at least Clint thought it was morning, there did not seem to be very defined days or nights) when Clint finally decided to reach out. There was talk that something would be happening, they'd be doing something to make a final push to get out of the jungle soon, and with no connection to either group, Clint found himself sorely in need of information. He needed info, and he wanted to actually check in on one of the few people on this island that he would consider a friend.

When he'd gotten up that morning he'd decided to skip a shirt, it was too warm for so many layers, so he ended up shirtless but carrying his bow and quiver with him as he approached what was a fire before it had gotten banked the night before. Setting down his things he quietly approached Shane, for such a big guy his footsteps were almost unnoticeable to the majority of people but there was no sneaking up on someone who could feel the vibrations through the earth. "Good Morning," Clint started as he came up alongside of Shane, thinking that the other man was on morning watch he didn't want to be too much of a disturbance. Instead of breaking his vision he just took up a good place to stand next to the teacher and looked out into the distance. "I was going to make some breakfast, are you hungry?"

Asking Shane if he wanted breakfast was totally not in the context that he wanted to ask, a couple of weeks ago (or had it been just days?) he'd offered Shane a breakfast that implied they'd be waking up in the same bed, not stranded on some island where the lands around them were trying to kill them in inventive ways. Clint did not offer up any information, didn't volunteer to say anything that he didn't need to, instead he asked more questions, "How are you doing?"
Jan 22 2018, 02:55 AM
Slate: Feb 25th, 2:45PM

I think I'm in love

Slate: Feb 25th, 2:46PM

You are the best matchmaker! This is the cutest guy I've ever brought home, seriously the most adorable one I've ever let into my apartment

Slate: Feb 25th, 2:49PM

Just look at this face Shane [img attachment]

Slate: Feb 25th, 2:50PM

let's never tell Lucky about this, I don't want him to get jealous that I thought another dog was cute

Jan 13 2018, 03:52 AM
There was only so much that one person could do alone, but today Clint Barton was doing the best that he could. One of the water heaters in his building went out, and he needed to get it fixed sooner rather than later. In the end, he'd ended up having to just replace the old junky piece of crap because if he didn't then no one was going to be able to wash their clothes in their little laundry room and that was just not okay. Clint needed clean clothes just like the next person, and he was not about to walk down the street in his underwear so that he could wash everything he had that was dirty.

Clints apartment bulding was not much to look at, nestled between two other much smaller buildings it was easy to miss but the place that the archer had called home for quite some time now. Because he ended up needing a new water heater, he'd driven his little beater truck to the hardware store, bought a new one and come back. Painstakingly he'd taken it all the way down into the basement by himself, quietly hooking it up and hoping that everything was going to work the first time around. The water that came out was scalding hot, but Clint figured he could work the temperature down a bit, adjusting things before he took a breath and headed upstairs with the old heater.

In an entirely childish manner, he was guessing that his new teacher friend probably weighed about as much as the stupid water heater, he'd have to guess though that if he were hauling Shane upstairs somewhere in his arms, it would not be to go out to the curb. His own stupid laughter helped, hands sliding against the warm metal as he hefted it up the last few stairs before he could take a small break. "Sure am getting my hands dirty today," He murmured to himself before lifting the heater once more and making his way outside. Finally getting the old beat up heater outside, Clint just dropped it on the curb the "fix me, I'm free!" sign that he'd taped to the water heater was a bit crooked but he didn't care at the moment. All he really wanted right now was a-

"Aw shirt." Somehow in the process of taking the water heater up the stairs the shirt he was wearing had gotten a tear right across the stomach. The stains from the rusty metal could have been washed out or just ignored, but the tear was large enough that it was no longer wearable. Shrugging out of his jacket, Clint was glad that it was not too chilly out. As Pride approached, Clint was peeling himself out of his ripped shirt, left standing there in just his jeans and boots with a broken pile of scrap at his side. Rubbing a hand over his stomach to make sure that he didn't get cut by whatever had destroyed his shirt he ended up looking up at just the last moment.

He was pretty sure that he was supposed to see a kid that matched this guys description, "Oh hey are you looking for me? I'm Clint, you're here to see me right?"
Jan 7 2018, 10:55 PM
If Clint had been a religious man he might have thought that texting someone on a Sunday morning during first Mass was a sin or something, he'd gone out for an early morning bagel and for some reason watching the last few stragglers head into the church nearest his apartment building had made him think about Shane. The other night while sealed up in a construction site they'd made vague and general plans, Clint had offered to buy the beer's because Shane had kept him from being sliced up by a ninja.

So while walking by the church with his bagel held in his teeth and Lucky hoping that he'd drop it, he'd texted Slate to see if beer's that night would work.

Thankfully he had not accidentally offended anyone, and his offer had been taken up. The archer was actually kind of excited, he'd been spending too much time out in the city lately. He probably needed to actually sit down and relax, but that was really not the type of person that he was. So Clint strode out of his apartment dressed Simply and started the trek to the bar that he'd picked.

There was a smile on Clint's face as he headed over towards the bar that he liked best, it was the kind of place that didn't look like much from the outside, but on the inside it was stunning. Not quite a dive, it was clean enough that it had good reviews online, but on the off nights, it felt like a familiar local bar because it had a pretty solid stream of regulars. While Clint didn't go there often enough to be a regular, he was still welcomed in with a wave... Or maybe on a quiet Sunday evening, they'd be treating anyone with money like a new best friend.

Plus the best thing was that they had a nice setup for darts in the back, something that Clint was good enough at that he'd parted some people from their money here before. Picking a seat at the corner of the bar away from where the bartender was standing to clean glasses, he settled in to wait for Shane. When the bartender approached (not young enough to be hip, but not old enough to be grizzled like many of the bartenders that Clint knew) asking what the blonde wanted to drink, he just smiled. "I'm okay, I'm waiting for someone, and it's probably rude to start without them." Also easier for him to slip out unnoticed just in case he did get stood up, but if nothing else Clint could have a drink and a round of darts and call it a night before going home to his dog. Lucky would probably be happy to have him at home in the evening since they would probably end up sprawled on the couch together.

Clint sat on his stool looking at the various little cuts on his fingertips for a while, waiting always felt like forever but he was pretty adept at waiting as it usually took time to line up the perfect shot. At the sound of the bell over the door ringing Clint glanced up, a grin on his face before he was up off of his stool to go meet Shane halfway, "Hey glad you could make it!" Clapping a hand onto Shane's shoulder he just guided the man over towards the bar, "Let's get you a beer, anything you want it's on me."
Dec 26 2017, 11:52 PM
Standing on a windy rooftop, Clint Barton surveyed the city below him.

With the wind rustling his hair and the slight bite of the cold as the evening chill settled in, he wished he'd worn a hat. It only took a moment but his mark was just coming into sight, the portly fellow had been harassing people in mutant town but seemed to be some scummy guy. From his own research, he'd heard that the guy was some mobster or something, just another cog in a machine that Clint was trying to destroy.

He closed his eyes for a second as he unclipped his bow from where it was resting neatly on his back. When he opened his eyes behind his glasses he watched as the decorative plants on the man's balcony sway in the wind, taking the time to figure wind resistance as he selected an arrow. He'd have to shoot through the glass if they guy didn't hurry up and come out into the balcony for a smoke like he did every night. Clint watched as he pulled out a cigar from the box on his table, but a noise from inside the apartment drew his attention for a second, with nothing to do but wait the archer notched his bow but waited to pull back, good thing too because there might have been an innocent victim. The flash of movement was enough to have Clint drawing his bow and no doubt that if it had already been drawn he would have let it fly at the person now standing on the balcony.

Their face was hooded but they nearly blended into the shadows as they waited for his mark. As the man inside the house came into sight he didn't seem to notice the interloper on his balcony and came out like nothing in the world was wrong at all.

It turned out to be a fatal mistake.

Before Clint could draw the bow back for the second time the man was laying dead, the masked person on the balcony had been swift, hitting major arteries one after the other to make it a fast but bloody death. Clint didn't waste any time, as the masked murderer climbed up and over the balcony, to the roof, Clint let his arrow fly, striking the hand of the-

Was that a ninja?

No time to worry about that now, because they were off and Clint was giving chase. Three buildings further and the ninja swan dived over the ledge, causing Clint to stop short before tossing himself over the side and down to the fire escape on the side of the building, nearly sliding down the metal ladders instead of really climbing on them... But once he got to the bottom and had his feet firmly on the ground- "Shit where did you go?" Clint might have been an eagle-eyed guy but there was no helping the fact that he was sorely lacking when it came to the hearing department, a noise had him whirling around but there was nothing there when he went to investigate. Letting out a huff of breath he held his bow with his arrow notched but did not yet draw back the string.

Heading down the side street, he did not hear was what moving in the dark.

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