◉ Video + Action

[vagabond_code]

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?

Comments

video

[delincuente]

See you already got the mural spiel. I had it all prepared and everything! [She gives a mock-offended huff.] This Fleet ain't big enough for two modern artists. Bet she can't do graffiti, though.

video

[vagabond_code]

[Unexpected German. Clint's brain runs 'mural' and 'spiel' together as if they were one word, and it's no word he's ever heard of. It's a good thing the latter part of that sentence is mostly a simple small-syllable affair.]

Y'scared of a little competition?

[This was the girl with the impressive sleight-of-hand. He'd be foolish to dismiss her brushwork out of hand.]

sorry for the delay, notifs!!!

[delincuente]

As if. She could totally kick my ass, but I've got credentials. [She reaches into her pocket and pulls out... an arcade ticket?] First place at skee-ball, suckers.

[vagabond_code]

[First with the sleight-of-hand mouse-thing, and now a ticket from an arcade game. Hawkeye was getting vibes, here. Carnie-vibes.]

Oh, woah, I'm sorry I doubted you.

[delincuente]

You should be. I'm practically presidential material. It's why they made me captain.

[vagabond_code]

Of the arcade?

[Please say they didn't give her command of one these ships. God, she was younger than Kate... somehow.]

[delincuente]

Of the SS Paisley.

[Man the bunkers. It must be the end times.]

[vagabond_code]

[He'd be fact checking that later, you betcha. He'd should be concerned, but then, it occurs to him that this is exactly the sort of stupid ploys a reality TV show would make to boost viewership for a given week.]

Wow. Great job.

[He was stalling for time, here. Trying to figure out how she was treating the responsibility.]