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The food is cleared off of most surfaces in Clint and Philip's apartment, though the teenager is doing ... something ... that Clint's purposefully ignoring.
He's sitting on the couch, and reading a book. It's a book he's read many times, though this copy is on something called a PADD.
Louis L'Amour apparently just never goes away.
He's sitting on the couch, and reading a book. It's a book he's read many times, though this copy is on something called a PADD.
Louis L'Amour apparently just never goes away.
Application
May. 11th, 2014 11:24 pmMun Name: TLvop
Mun e-mail: tigerlily_e AT Hotmail DOT com
Character Name: Clint Barton, watchword_competence
Character Canon: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Weapons: One HK P30 pistol, one cartridge with 10 bullets and a second full cartridge (15 bullets). One buck knife.
Possessions: Boots, hiking socks, tan cargo pants (pockets: one set of pliers, three pieces of gum, one protein bar, compass, small sewing kit, very small writing pad, two dollars and twenty-three cents, some moleskine and three aspirin, together in a little plastic baggie., a plastic comb), boxers (green), light blue long sleeved Henley shirt, and a watch.
Essay
Clint Barton is just a normal guy. This is a pretty big achievement, as a part-time Avenger and full-time secret agent (though the part that involved sniping is very much "ex-"). There's something so innately normal to him, that anything he does – and any situation he is in – is infused with a sense of well, this is just something that happens.
Clint is co-current with Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. This means that a couple years ago an alien hijacked his loyalty and caused him to plot the strategy that almost took down one of the most powerful organizations on Earth within 48 hours. He hasn't exactly recovered, and the interrogations following those events – the ones that proved him loyal, and of reasonably sound mind – shook his faith in SHIELD.
He's almost deliberately light, because of this – he's always been a guy deeply (if quietly) entertained by the peculiarities of life, but now he'd really rather not take the time to dig a little deeper if he doesn't have to. He never trusted easily, but now he trusts barely at all (the only person he really trusts, these days, is a con artist-spy). People with strong ideals scare him.
I am really looking forward to bringing Clint into Ten Forward. He's someone who desires structure, and best thrives in an environment where a role or task is provided for him. He builds his identity, to an extent, around his job. Now that his identity in SHIELD has been shaken (after nearly two decades of working for them), he's open for a large career change. I'd love to see him go into something like teaching math and/or physics to primary/secondary school kids.
Part of why I love Clint is the fact that he rolls with whatever is thrown his way. He accepts people as they present themselves, which can actually lead to deeply fascinating discussions as he's not contesting people on the parts of their stories that "don't make sense".
In this universe, Clint and Natasha Romanoff are best friends and have been for years. They are not, and have never been, a couple.
Writing Sample (warning for implied potential violence)
Today is Clint's day off. Days off don't happen very often in Afghanistan, not even when you're an officer in a combined SHIELD-Delta mission (Delta, his retired Ranger brain snorts, reflexively, as it hasn't stopped doing for the past month) which has mostly stalled out.
He was going to eat a big breakfast, including a cinnamon roll. Watch a little television – maybe see if he could get Jeffries to finally fix the damn DVD player so they could watch some Die Hard. He shouldn't have had to smuggle Die Hard onto base just so it could go not watched.
Instead he manages a leisurely shower (a whole five minutes) and brushing his teeth until everything tastes like peppermint, and leaves.
Into somewhere that is not the hallway he entered from. He finishes zipping his fly, while backing up to re-open the door behind him before it closes all the way.
That isn't the head he came from, either. It sure is a restroom (he thinks), but it's…
Clint starts double-checking the surroundings for blue lights, cranking up his hearing aids to see if he can catch the horrible familiar thrum until all he can hear is static. He turns them back down.
Well.
Clint leaves before whoever's in the furthest stall actually opens their door, and walks into the restaurant in front of him. He's relieved by the weight of his gun against his leg, a reminder that he doesn’t have to let himself get taken again.
"Okay," he says quietly. He ignores the curious glance of the officer in the green dress. (He's pretty sure she's an officer. There's an... air. Clint was a sniper for 25 years. He knows how to identify high-priority targets.)
He walks into the bar area, and slides onto a stool. When the bartender looks at him, Clint slides on his winning-est smile.
"So," he says. "What's a guy got to do to get a drink around here?"
Mun e-mail: tigerlily_e AT Hotmail DOT com
Character Name: Clint Barton, watchword_competence
Character Canon: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Weapons: One HK P30 pistol, one cartridge with 10 bullets and a second full cartridge (15 bullets). One buck knife.
Possessions: Boots, hiking socks, tan cargo pants (pockets: one set of pliers, three pieces of gum, one protein bar, compass, small sewing kit, very small writing pad, two dollars and twenty-three cents, some moleskine and three aspirin, together in a little plastic baggie., a plastic comb), boxers (green), light blue long sleeved Henley shirt, and a watch.
Essay
Clint Barton is just a normal guy. This is a pretty big achievement, as a part-time Avenger and full-time secret agent (though the part that involved sniping is very much "ex-"). There's something so innately normal to him, that anything he does – and any situation he is in – is infused with a sense of well, this is just something that happens.
Clint is co-current with Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. This means that a couple years ago an alien hijacked his loyalty and caused him to plot the strategy that almost took down one of the most powerful organizations on Earth within 48 hours. He hasn't exactly recovered, and the interrogations following those events – the ones that proved him loyal, and of reasonably sound mind – shook his faith in SHIELD.
He's almost deliberately light, because of this – he's always been a guy deeply (if quietly) entertained by the peculiarities of life, but now he'd really rather not take the time to dig a little deeper if he doesn't have to. He never trusted easily, but now he trusts barely at all (the only person he really trusts, these days, is a con artist-spy). People with strong ideals scare him.
I am really looking forward to bringing Clint into Ten Forward. He's someone who desires structure, and best thrives in an environment where a role or task is provided for him. He builds his identity, to an extent, around his job. Now that his identity in SHIELD has been shaken (after nearly two decades of working for them), he's open for a large career change. I'd love to see him go into something like teaching math and/or physics to primary/secondary school kids.
Part of why I love Clint is the fact that he rolls with whatever is thrown his way. He accepts people as they present themselves, which can actually lead to deeply fascinating discussions as he's not contesting people on the parts of their stories that "don't make sense".
In this universe, Clint and Natasha Romanoff are best friends and have been for years. They are not, and have never been, a couple.
Writing Sample (warning for implied potential violence)
Today is Clint's day off. Days off don't happen very often in Afghanistan, not even when you're an officer in a combined SHIELD-Delta mission (Delta, his retired Ranger brain snorts, reflexively, as it hasn't stopped doing for the past month) which has mostly stalled out.
He was going to eat a big breakfast, including a cinnamon roll. Watch a little television – maybe see if he could get Jeffries to finally fix the damn DVD player so they could watch some Die Hard. He shouldn't have had to smuggle Die Hard onto base just so it could go not watched.
Instead he manages a leisurely shower (a whole five minutes) and brushing his teeth until everything tastes like peppermint, and leaves.
Into somewhere that is not the hallway he entered from. He finishes zipping his fly, while backing up to re-open the door behind him before it closes all the way.
That isn't the head he came from, either. It sure is a restroom (he thinks), but it's…
Clint starts double-checking the surroundings for blue lights, cranking up his hearing aids to see if he can catch the horrible familiar thrum until all he can hear is static. He turns them back down.
Well.
Clint leaves before whoever's in the furthest stall actually opens their door, and walks into the restaurant in front of him. He's relieved by the weight of his gun against his leg, a reminder that he doesn’t have to let himself get taken again.
"Okay," he says quietly. He ignores the curious glance of the officer in the green dress. (He's pretty sure she's an officer. There's an... air. Clint was a sniper for 25 years. He knows how to identify high-priority targets.)
He walks into the bar area, and slides onto a stool. When the bartender looks at him, Clint slides on his winning-est smile.
"So," he says. "What's a guy got to do to get a drink around here?"
