CLINT (HAWKEYE) BARTON (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vagabond_code) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-02-07 10:34 am
vagabond_code) wrote in driftfleet2016-02-07 10:34 am
Entry tags:
◉ Video + Action
Who: Clint "Hawkeye" Barton and yous
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: FS Starlight, SS First Breath
When: Any time this week
Video | Fleetwide
Hey, so does anyone here play darts? I have this guy at a bar called The Trophy Room offering free pints for bulleyes f'the next fews nights. Sure - if you miss, you gotta pay. But what are the chances, right? And if that sounds like an easy night's drinking to any a'you, I'll bet you two-hundred-credits you can't beat me at your darts-based game of choice. Shanghai? Round-the-clock? You name it. If I don't know it, all the better. Drop by The Trophy Room one night this week, and who knows? Y'might make a quick two hundred.
Action | Starlight
[Clint has gotten into something of a daily Rythm at the FS Starlight, piloting taxi-shuttles by day and playing darts at various bars by night. Most of those nights are spent at a bar called The Trophy Room, where he has made something of name for himself. Here, his presence seems to draw an enthusiatic crowd. He makes trick-shots, he takes dares, he challenges all comers. Bets are placed, drinks are drunk. He knows well enough that there's money to be made in keeping them hungry, though, so every few nights he switches to another bar until they throw him out for one reason or another. Then it's back to The Trophy Room.
As for the daylight hours, his taxi'll get you there fast or quiet, slow or not at all if that's your fancy. There was this one lady who just wanted him to drive a few laps and drop her off where he'd picked her up, whatever that was about, but hey. She'd paid. He smuggles, too, but that's on the hush hush. Either way, people seem to get a kick out of the idea of a deaf cabbie.
If he's not doing any of this, find him basically anywhere else on the station. I'm not your dad.]
Action | SS First Breath
[Clint hasn't been spending a lot of time on the First Breath, partially because of the over-crowding situation and partially because he hasn't had enough time to think of it as his home. He does return every so often though, to crash when they catch him trying to sleep in the taxi. If someone on the ship had their eye out, they'd find him eventually.]
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: FS Starlight, SS First Breath
When: Any time this week
Video | Fleetwide
Hey, so does anyone here play darts? I have this guy at a bar called The Trophy Room offering free pints for bulleyes f'the next fews nights. Sure - if you miss, you gotta pay. But what are the chances, right? And if that sounds like an easy night's drinking to any a'you, I'll bet you two-hundred-credits you can't beat me at your darts-based game of choice. Shanghai? Round-the-clock? You name it. If I don't know it, all the better. Drop by The Trophy Room one night this week, and who knows? Y'might make a quick two hundred.
Action | Starlight
[Clint has gotten into something of a daily Rythm at the FS Starlight, piloting taxi-shuttles by day and playing darts at various bars by night. Most of those nights are spent at a bar called The Trophy Room, where he has made something of name for himself. Here, his presence seems to draw an enthusiatic crowd. He makes trick-shots, he takes dares, he challenges all comers. Bets are placed, drinks are drunk. He knows well enough that there's money to be made in keeping them hungry, though, so every few nights he switches to another bar until they throw him out for one reason or another. Then it's back to The Trophy Room.
As for the daylight hours, his taxi'll get you there fast or quiet, slow or not at all if that's your fancy. There was this one lady who just wanted him to drive a few laps and drop her off where he'd picked her up, whatever that was about, but hey. She'd paid. He smuggles, too, but that's on the hush hush. Either way, people seem to get a kick out of the idea of a deaf cabbie.
If he's not doing any of this, find him basically anywhere else on the station. I'm not your dad.]
Action | SS First Breath
[Clint hasn't been spending a lot of time on the First Breath, partially because of the over-crowding situation and partially because he hasn't had enough time to think of it as his home. He does return every so often though, to crash when they catch him trying to sleep in the taxi. If someone on the ship had their eye out, they'd find him eventually.]
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[ she offers the cup ]
I made coffee for you. I can't promise it's any good, and you might not even want it. But since we talked about it before.
[ look, she's trying ]
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It smells like coffee.
[If he didn't want it, his reachy-hands had a weird way of showing it.]
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[ but he's already shuffling around so she comes to sit, and hands over the coffee ]
Thanks. [ for clearing the way ]
So... how's it going?
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[ she shifts slightly ]
What you wanted?
[ she has no idea. ]
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Thank you.
[He says, and opens his eyes.]
Where did you get it?
[He knows there's coffee to be found on the iskaulit but that seems a long way to carry a full mug.]
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How is it?
[ she's not totally focused on him when she talks. she finds it hard to maintain eye contact ]
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'sperfect
[Ask him again a week from now and he might give a different opinion on the stuff, but he's been without steady-coffee for so many days in a row by now that she could probably have brought him instant coffee powder un-stirred in cold water and he'd still have thanked her.]
I didn't know you were on the First Breath, I'd have said 'hi'.
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[ she puzzles at him slightly ]
Do I have something on my face?
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No, but...
[Should he tell her? Would it be weird if he didn't? Probably.]
I can't hear you. I'm deaf -- so, I need to see your --
[His gestures said 'face'.]
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[ makes an effort to turn her face toward him. it's not a patronizing effort— she genuinely feels bad for not realizing ]
Just tell me if it's wrong, okay? I don't realize what I'm doing half the time.
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[He says, in an attempt to reassure her. It's not something he ever wants anyone else to feel awkward about.]
Yeah I'll let you know. As long as you let me know when I slip up - and I will slip up. Lip-reading isn't a science. I catch like -- maybe 40% of what people are saying most time.
[And he assumes or invents the rest.]
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[ genuine curiosity ]
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[He digs around under his bedclothes a little and manages to produce one of his head hearing-aids. He turns it on, and it whines and crackles. He turns it off, and throws it back down on the bed.]
Doesn't work here. Too many signals or -- something.
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[ wondering how many people he's met and if he'll know their names... ]
Do you know them?
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[ she wants to help him figure this out ]
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[He -- doesn't want to be helped.
But she did bring him coffee so...]
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[ she pulls out her comm and taps away for a little bit. He gets a text soon after she looks up ]
Furiosa is the captain. I'm Nova. Or Katniss. I don't really care. Lily has red hair. Is it bad to say I don't know the others that well?
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How do you even say this?
[He was pointing to the face of the stuff-builder, and beside him, the name Tyrion]
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[ she's not sure whether she should try to spell it out or say it... tries being deliberate with her pronunciation first ]
TEER-ee-on?
[ maybe she'll just try typing it instead ]
1/2
2/2
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TEER-ee-on.
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Yeah okay. Thanks.
How much cruder?
[Are we talking sharpened sticks? Or steam engines or what?]
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