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)
driftfleet2016-04-22 09:36 am
vagabond_code) wrote in driftfleet2016-04-22 09:36 am
◉ Video + Action
Who: Clint "Hawkeye" Barton and alls a' yous
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action?: First Breath if you wanna.
Where: Casa de Barton aboard the SS First Breath
When: Now
[The camera of Clint's communicator device flicks on, and it stares for a few seconds at some high, dull grey corner of a room. By mistake? It's dusty up there, dingy you might even say, but it sets the tone pretty perfectly because although the claustrophobic angle widens when he begins to pan the camera around, the dinge does not receed. It's his room, but, it could be anyone's room. No single foot of it declares 'Clint Barton'. It barely declares 'human habitation'. He owns a bed, and there are things lurking under it. One corner of the room is where the duffle bag lives... and that's it for home decor. So actually, as it turns out, he's showing the fleet a three-sixty degree view of his dismal quarters on purpose. He sets the device on his bed and angles it toward himself, where he sits on the floor a few feet away.]
Hey.
[How to start with this? Seriously.]
Okay, I need your help. Does anyone think maybe there's a way to make this place look like it isn't a prison cell? What kind of person lives in a place that looks like this? Seriously I ask you. Maybe a rug over there, or I could put some paintings up. I could get one of those elephants that you point at the door.
A vase?
[That's literally all of his ideas. He's gesturing non-noncommittally over his shoulder, even, so it's not like he's got plans for where to put these things even if he had them.]
...Mood lighting...
[He'd heard that somewhere one time.]
And I know there are some new people, so just, fair warning - I need to see your mouth. My ears aren't working right. It's a hassle but whatever. So, ideas?
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action?: First Breath if you wanna.
Where: Casa de Barton aboard the SS First Breath
When: Now
[The camera of Clint's communicator device flicks on, and it stares for a few seconds at some high, dull grey corner of a room. By mistake? It's dusty up there, dingy you might even say, but it sets the tone pretty perfectly because although the claustrophobic angle widens when he begins to pan the camera around, the dinge does not receed. It's his room, but, it could be anyone's room. No single foot of it declares 'Clint Barton'. It barely declares 'human habitation'. He owns a bed, and there are things lurking under it. One corner of the room is where the duffle bag lives... and that's it for home decor. So actually, as it turns out, he's showing the fleet a three-sixty degree view of his dismal quarters on purpose. He sets the device on his bed and angles it toward himself, where he sits on the floor a few feet away.]
Hey.
[How to start with this? Seriously.]
Okay, I need your help. Does anyone think maybe there's a way to make this place look like it isn't a prison cell? What kind of person lives in a place that looks like this? Seriously I ask you. Maybe a rug over there, or I could put some paintings up. I could get one of those elephants that you point at the door.
A vase?
[That's literally all of his ideas. He's gesturing non-noncommittally over his shoulder, even, so it's not like he's got plans for where to put these things even if he had them.]
...Mood lighting...
[He'd heard that somewhere one time.]
And I know there are some new people, so just, fair warning - I need to see your mouth. My ears aren't working right. It's a hassle but whatever. So, ideas?
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The trick is always keeping a bag packed.
[Think of it like one of those 3D printed houses or whatever.]
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[Which was supposed to be enticing somehow. Hey! She always seemed full of advice when he wasn't asking for it.]
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[ except they both know she'd love to decorate his stupid room. ]
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If you want help, you'll have it.
[ help. she ain't doing it all for you, barton. ]
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[Suck it, Winn.]
I have a list. Wait..
Okay 1.shelf
2.trinkets
3.plant
4.pot for plant
5.lava lamp OR space lamp + batteries
6.nails for painting
7.string for painting (hang up)
8.painting, and
9.I think a rug?
[There's a good chance he included the lava lamp just to mess with her.]
That's it so far.
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oh. she reads further and -- ugh, clint. you dummy. ]
You just did the to-do list equivalent of handing in an essay at twice the usual font-size. That should be like a 6 item list at most.
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[You wound him, Kate. He tried so hard!]
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[Like, is there different lighting for different -- emotions? He'd heard somewhere that red is bad. Makes people angry. Which reminds him..]
The bad guys have this lighting thing down. A good bad-guy lair is, what, 70% mood lighting, 30% dangerous maiming traps? I should be asking one of those guys
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[Good-guy moods, even. Bad guys were all about the deep blues and blood reds. Creepy warehouses and dingy alleys. He wasn't looking to replicate their aesthetic exactly. On second though, maybe he didn't have the best understanding of what mood lighting was but by now he was committed to the idea.]
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Are you seeing someone?
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And his lips,]
But it could happen.
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Cart before the horse.
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Hey conveniently available age-appropriate lady, you should come over to my place! But wait while I redecorate. No really, I won't be long. Seriously it'll be worth it. No? Awh, okay.
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My priorities. So I won't be seeing you anywhere near that masquerade -- and you won't have a date or anything.
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