(no subject)

[bettercallit]

☎ Call.
✉ Voicemail.
⌨ Text.
✔ Action.

Comments

perma-action

[detentions]

[ Bucky knows to find Clint on the roof, because the roof is their spot, and nobody else knows about it. It makes sense, they like being up-high. So that's why he's climbing over the fire-escape, wandering over to the make-shift den and saluting him. ]

Fuck, today sucked. Do you have anything on you?

[troubler]

[ He's squashing out the end of a cigarette when Bucky approaches, and he inclines his head, questioning him with his brow alone. But he's got the goods, taking out a baggie with a few roll-ups inside already done, and there's a bottle to the side he picks up.

Shaking them both. ] Pick your poison.

[ ✔ ]

[debrief]

[ Phil ends the conversation with Serrure, face pensive as he wanders into the kitchen. ]

Clint?

[ ✔ ]

[bettercallit]

[ Clint is humming some tune or other to himself when Phil walks in, and he turns his back on whatever he was doing, not at all looking like a boy who's been caught doing something he probably shouldn't. ]

It wasn't me.

[studmuffin]

[ On the coffee table inside Phil and Clint's apartment there's a white box with a note attached. Inside are two kind of cookies, ones with ties iced on, and the other kind have arrows.

They're maybe a bit messy, but that's Stiles style. The note reads. Thank you for putting me up, guys. You can find me at the Youth Center if you want me. ]

[bettercallit]

[ Cute, Clint thinks as he stumbles across the cookies, and he reads the note. He's grown used to having the kid around, but sleeping on a couch in the middle of some strangers' living room was never the most ideal situation.

Still, he feels oddly responsible, so he heads down to the Youth Centre to check in on him. ]

text;

[studmuffin]

how easy would it be 4 u 2 turn darkside?

text;

[bettercallit]

It's as easy as flipping a switch. Someone fuck with you?

» text

[thenormalsquint]

you don't call, you don't write. what do i have to do to reach you? send up a signal in the sky? messenger bird?

» text

[bettercallit]

Missing me already? Try the pigeons, they always know.

[yourbestguysgun]

need to talk to you. meet me for a beer at the blue light? 1700 hrs.

[bettercallit]

Can't get enough of me, Barnes? I'll be there.

[ If it were at any other venue, Clint might have been late, time keeping not something that has much of a place here, which is liberating. But there's beer on offer, and if there is something serious to discuss he can't avoid it forever.

Wandering in, Clint claims a stool at the quieter side of the bar. ]

action;

[studmuffin]

[ Now that Derek's no longer pocket sized and totally back to his angry alpha ways, Stiles is busy trying to find something to occupy himself. Mostly it means checking out the City, finding the location highlights and crap. The Hall of the Missing is pretty morbid though, and he had been about to leave when he found one of the names written there.

It had taken him ten minutes to get food and coffee and then drive all the way over to Clint's place. He knocks the door, cradling the brown bag and coffee cup holder, hears Fury barking behind the door like a demented thing. ]

action;

[bettercallit]

[ If it weren't for Fury giving the fact that someone is home away, Clint might not bother answering. But he's up and dressed, and although he's still not sure he's really ready for company without the distraction of one curse or another, which the weekend proved manageable, he goes to answer it anyway.

He opens the door a mere crack to see who it is, holding the dog back with a foot, and then grabs him by the collar to let him in. ] What brings you over? [ Not that he minds, tugging Fury towards the couch. ] He's been like this all week, don't know what's wrong with him.

[studmuffin]

[ He's pretty much been shadowing Clint all day, providing constant chatter in the background apart from the times where he's been shoving an extreme amount of candy into his mouth. Clint's kind of like this awesome mess of bro-uncle-brother and Stiles can't help but be drawn to that.

Especially with how much he misses his dad.

Especially with that.

So it makes sense that he follows him home like a lost puppy. ] All I'm saying is why couldn't I have the game curse and not the one that had my insides greet invisible death?

[bettercallit]

[ Clint's grown used to having him around at this point, even if he does kick himself at times for so easily forming a close attachment, but it's reached a stage where if he weren't there then he'd hate it. His constant chatter provides a comforting background noise that he can tune out, but that also keeps him from thinking, and he knows he needs Stiles more than he probably needs him.

But, still, he likes it, likes Stiles, because he's a good kid, and he knows what it's like to be alone in the world, to have to grow up quick, so he prefers to be there for him than to close himself off from it. ]

'Cause the deities know you'd prefer that. You should know better by now that they like to fuck with us. Try reverse psychology next time, see if it works.

[studmuffin]

[ The key won't go in the lock. He's tried it at least five times now and every time he misses. Or it doesn't fit. Or some myriad of excuses that he's come up with to try and trick his brain into sobriety.

Because he's smashed, well and truly off his face and he can't go back to Derek because he's been avoiding him. Clint's okay, Clint's safe. Now if only Stiles could actually get into the door. ]

[bettercallit]

[ Curled up on the sofa with a blanket and several cushions, Clint digs his way out and up onto his feet when he stirs enough to catch the sound of someone outside the apartment.

He takes no chances, grabbing a combat knife out of habit, and goes to investigate. Fury follows shortly after, barking as it continues, but as soon as he realises whoever it is has a key, Clint opens the door slowly. ]

Stiles? [ The hallway is dimly lit, and there's nothing but the flickering light of the television behind him. ] You smell like a bar.

[theassassin]

[She had taken a page from his book and spent the day just watching, from a safe distance, avoiding everyone- once she realized what was going on out there. The last thing she needed was to be caught with someone she didn't know and having to kiss them. (Not that it would be the worst thing that's ever happened to her by any stretch of the imagination. She's just hardly in the mood for the stupidity.)

Shooting him a quick, 'You've got to see this' text, inviting Clint to join her without thinking about potential consequences. She looks out over the city again, somewhat amused by the whole thing. As anyone who isn't caught in the snare of some malicious mistletoe would be.]

[bettercallit]

[ Clint is sprawled out on the living room floor, craning his neck up as he plays a game on the console he's not had much use out of lately, but as soon as the text tune for Natasha rings out, he pauses it and rolls over to reach his phone.

He glances from the TV to the window and back, the room slowly getting warm as opposed to the freezing cold outside, and he sighs. He grabs his jacket after distracting Fury with a chew and takes a short-cut up to the roof, stepping up behind her, but not within hitting distance - he's never doing that again. ]

What're we looking at?

( voicemail - sometime early morning )

[studmuffin]

Hey Clint. [ Stiles sounds panicked which isn't unusual, but he sounds a little sad too. ] Um. I'm going to the Youth Centre right now but I was wondering if tomorrow we could talk?

[ He hasn't seen the network, hasn't seen that Phil's back and Phil's safe so this is a purely selfish call. ] Everything's messed up and I could really use --.

Uh, where did that door come from? [ The message goes quiet for a moment as Stiles moves towards it. Clint can probably make out the creak. ] Oh. Oh. Okay, I think ... I think I'm going to go home now?

[ Because it hurts, everything hurts and he wants to just -- he needs Scott and his dad and he needs out. ] You were great, man. You were ... thanks. For helping me. I'm gonna go now.

[steleheart]

[ Clary shows up the next day, small pastry box tucked under her arm, coffees in a little cardboard tray. She likes Clint already, wouldn't like him to be upset, so she's doing what she can. Even if that includes somehow ringing the doorbell with her elbow and laughing as Fury starts barking. ]

[bettercallit]

[ It takes him a minute to reach the door, nudging Fury out of the way and grabbing his collar, not that he's likely to run, but he's a force once he jumps up.

A smile threatens to put in an appearance as soon as he realises who it is. ] Couldn't stay away? [ Not that he minds in the least, and he tries to move aside, tugging Fury with him. ] Come on, you can pounce when she's inside.

[studmuffin]

[ Who the hell goes out in weather like this anyway?

The answer would be Stiles because he's got zero sense of self-preservation and he misses Clint, hasn't seen him since he came back and wants to rectify that. The plus side is his bruises are mostly faded and he can come without fear of being unable to pass it off as a lacrosse tackle gone wrong.

So he knocks, laughs when he hears Fury's paws scrabbling on the floor. ] Hey Fury, get your dad to let me in. It's cold.

[bettercallit]

[ Unless he's rolling around in the stuff and childishly building things with it until his hands are so cold they could drop off, Clint hates the cold and the wet, a consequence of sitting out for hours at a time without being able to move to keep warm.

But the apartment is warm, a fire lit on top of the heating being on, and he comes from the direction of the kitchen when he pulls the door open, making hot chocolate, a bit of the power on his jumper sleeve.

He's holding Fury back, and Stiles is the last person he expects to see, which is why he freezes, checking for signs of ghoulishness. ] You're back. Must've missed that memo. [ If it weren't for the fact the door is wide open and Fury's scrabbling to dart forward, Clint would throw himself at the kid. ] Walk into a door?

✔ Action (Early morning 3/18)

[theassassin]

[There is a redhead quietly (As quietly as she can be) creeping into the apartment in the early hours of the morning. She's not wearing her shoes, they're in her hand and then unceremoniously tossed onto the couch along with her keys and her jacket.

Fuck it. She's put together, well enough, but it's obvious she's not feeling well, at all.

Natasha moves down the hallway, and okay okay she's totally lacking her usual grace and isn't at all stealthy. She bypasses her own bedroom door and b-lines straight for Clint's, only pausing long enough to close the door before she crawls onto the bed next to him and curls up against him.]

✔ Action

[bettercallit]

[ It's probably telling of how comfortable he's grown to being here that Clint barely stirs at the intrusion, and even more so that he didn't start into action at the mere sound of someone stumbling through the apartment, especially when he knows Natasha to have more care than that On the other hand, her absence the night before didn't go unnoticed.

He groans at being disturbed so early, body not willing or ready to leave the warmth of the bed just yet, and mutters incoherently. ]

Thought Fury was bad enough, but you're definitely worse.

audio ][

[affectioning]

Hello Clint? It's Scott. McCall. You told me to let you know when I was interested to audition for - for drinking with you. [ Which is weird to say in itself. ] Whenever you're free, we should. Except on Friday because that's my birthday. But, other than that, I should be free later at night. Thanks.

audio ][

[bettercallit]

Considered yourself hired. [ Because even he's realising the whole audition thing sounds ridiculous when it's said out loud. ] What're you doing tonight?

voice l

[affectioning]

[ So, he's lost his girlfriend and technically despite never being official, his boyfriend, and his mother all in the same week. So, he's going to try and sound professional and not like a seventeen year old who just lost his mother and two people he probably loved. (One he loved, one he could've grown to love. ]

Hey Clint, it's Scott. Just checking in. It was a rough curse. [ Dangerous. ] But, I'm okay and so are my friends.

So, the clinic is almost done. And you said you wanted to help if you could. When it was up and running. So, let me know if you're still interested?

voice l

[bettercallit]

[ It might be because he's been good at what he does for so long that he can easily pick up on body language and how that carries across in other ways, but he senses something's off, even though he puts it down to the recent events. ]

Yeah? Glad to hear everyone's doing good, it wasn't the most fun curse ever.

[ But getting to the point. ]

Still interested. And I cut back on a few of my hours down at the police station recently, so I've got more time to play with.


[ OOC: God, sorry this is so late, stupid hiatus and failing to see older tags. ;; ]

⌨ Text | backdated to after the mountain shit

[hexuality]

let's take it easy on your lessons for a bit, yeah?

⌨ Text

[bettercallit]

Copy that.

You okay?

→ owl post

[hexuality]

[ Sir Weatherby comes along with a red and gold wrapped gift! It's a knife roll, since they're all for related presents, apparently. And a note: Merry Christmas! I hope you haven't got one of these. But if you do, it's probably all beat up so here's a new one. ~ Ginny ]

→ owl post

[bettercallit]

[ Clint takes a shot and talks to the bird, asking it to hang on while he scribbles something down, and to his surprise, it flaps at the open window a little longer as he writes a note: How did you know? Got one back home, but never got around to stocking up here. Thank you. Merry Christmas, Ginny. ~ Clint

Attacking it to the owl, he sends it on its way and watches as it goes with a smile on his face before proceeding to put the gift to good use. ]