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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[Or worse, they pitied him.]
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[It's annoying. The staring isn't nearly as bad as the oh-my-gosh-I'm-so-sorry song and dance.]
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[This guy gets it, so Clint relaxes a little. There's a slight drop to the tension in his shoulders.]
It's fine anyway, I can fly this thing just fine. Got the pilot chip.
[He tapped the place in his neck where they'd embedded the augment.]
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[Clint hoped so. He hoped sludge-science was far more interesting than it sounded somehow.]
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[The stuff seems to be nutritionally complete enough to keep them from starving and to not be sickening at the end of a month or two. That's all the credit he's giving it.]
My job's in-house butcher knows a guy who can set me up with a used chest freezer in good condition at a decent price. That's one step closer to being able to stock enough meat and vegetables to keep us happily in real food between planets.