ibelieveinarrows: (Point!)
Have a question? Looking for a plot or a thread? Want to tell me how I'm doing? Trying to get in touch with me for any other reason? I can be reached by comments on this entry (unscreened, anonymous enabled), PMs, or the following methods:

Email: nowalouderstrain@gmail.com
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Clint is from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I do not claim to own or be associated with Clint, the canon, the actor, or anything else. This is strictly an RP journal for nonprofity fun. Mun is over 18.

Notes:
- On EST, and nocturnal, so I'm generally not around for the bulk of the day (or night, on work nights).
- Backtag friendly until forever and a day, and happy to go back to older threads if you prod me and let me know you want to continue.
- Mun is pretty comics-blind at this point (though slowly being educated), but absolutely thrilled to play with comics characters if they don't mind that.
- Extremely AU friendly.
- For shipping, I'm wide open. I will not default to a shippy thread without asking unless, again, the meme itself makes the direction clear, but I'm good with just about anything. However, I generally prefer to smut only with people I thread with regularly.
ibelieveinarrows: (Default)
Steve is not having a good day.

That's fairly rare for him. Normally he can keep it together, or at least have the appearance of keeping it together. His bad days are quiet affairs, private ones, not the screaming, crying breakdowns he's seen some of the others come to. Usually.

He's not screaming now, but he is crying, curled in the quietest, darkest corner he can find to squeeze himself into. It's still too loud, too much. He's bleeding from crescents on his palm and if he keeps scratching at the skin around his ears he's going to start bleeding there too. He's not sobbing anymore, at least; tears are just slipping quietly down his face as he sits there, rocking slightly and trying to focus on the sound of his own breathing. Anything to calm down, to stop listening to all the thoughts that pass through his brain. To be better, like he usually is.



Clint is practicing, holed up with the targets and his weapons. And it is weapons this time, plural; his favorite bow is in his hands, quiver strapped across his back, but there's a gun lying on the bench and a target full of bullet holes instead of arrows among the ones he's been working with. He still likes his arrows better, but it never hurts to stay sharp with multiple weapons. He's considering trying throwing knives too.

But for right now, it's him and the bow and the bullseye. Anyone dropping by should maybe try not to startle him.



Coulson has files in hand, but he's not looking at them at the moment, his eyes closed and the other hand rubbing his temples. He needs a second before he can dive back into it. It's important, looking over the evaluations of the newest rescues, figuring out who needs to be put into safe keeping and who might be approached to help them out, but it's also hard to read about what these kids have been through. This girl is only a year younger than Darcy, and he can't stop putting his daughter in her place; it turns his stomach to think about it.

He'll go back to it, but he needs a moment first.



Loki is tied up, so securely that he can't slip the bonds, even just enough to get to one of the knives they missed when they took his weapons. It's for his own safety and everyone else's, this time, and just in the nick of time. It wouldn't have been much longer before he'd done something to endanger them all.

He isn't gagged, just tied, and he's humming to himself as he works against his bonds, not accomplishing anything but rubbing his wrists and ankles raw. It doesn't seem to bother him very much, but then, not much can get through the manic fog at the moment.
ibelieveinarrows: (Point!)
Coulson was not supposed to be here. Or at least not for long. The plan was to show up just long enough to say hi and surprise his daughter with the part where he's off early (or as off as he ever is anyway). Then he got sidelined when he walked in, got sidelined again after getting a location, and got sidelined yet again when he went to where she had been (but wasn't anymore, apparently). Now he's been here almost forty minutes and has no idea where to look.

Because they are children and apparently he gets to play babysitter when he comes to visit.

He isn't stopping for anything else, though. He is going to find his daughter and no superhero, spy, overgrown children, or mixture thereof is going to stop him.

... It's a nice thought, really it is. Just an unlikely one.


Clint may have been part of why Coulson kept getting sidetracked, but even annoying his favorite handler/boss/overseer of all things Avenger is only entertaining for so long. He's up on the roof now. He likes the roof, and that's pretty visible from the amount of things up there that are his: targets and a few discarded arrows from prototypes that really weren't worth the time to fix up, balls that can either be tossed as targets or just tossed around for the hell of it, a gameboy that's basically been given up to the roof since he keeps forgetting it up here.

He's ignoring all that right now, though, for playing a balancing act on the edge of the roof, his eyes on his feet. His quiver and bow are slung over his shoulder, so he can grab one of the appropriate arrows if he missteps -- but he's pretty confident that he won't.


And Steve, well, he has a television. He's not entirely comfortable with how much down-time being a superhero leads to, but it's certainly helped in the whole 'get Captain America familiar with current pop culture' campaign half the team seems to have launched.

He's not actually watching anything in particular, just flipping through channels until something looks interesting. Mostly he is watching commercials or news stories. Somehow getting himself familiar with the news and the products feels a little more useful than getting himself familiar with the media in general.

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ibelieveinarrows: (Default)
Clint Barton

August 2012

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