Clint "Hawkeye" Barton ⇢ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pretendtoneedme) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-01-19 11:32 pm
pretendtoneedme) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-01-19 11:32 pm
And Way Down We Go
WHO: Clint Barton, whoever
WHERE: Around town, the fountain...
WHEN: Throughout January 19th
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to encounter him
WARNINGS: Standard mentions of drowning, otherwise TBD, but there'll probably be talk of fighting at the very least. Violent babies.
STATUS: Yes (if this changes, I'll edit)
1) Arrival (Early Morning)
Waking up underwater was pretty much the last thing Clint expected after managing to fall asleep after their rescue – and it was pretty much the worst. Whatever phobias he'd had as a kid had been trained out of him over the course of his life, but there was still a lingering thread of unease about really deep water, since even with as good as swimmer as he was he probably wouldn't be able to escape it fast enough to find breathable air. It didn't ever lock him down or stop him from going on any sort of underwater transport, but he was always just a hair more primed to act when on a sub or a submerged helicarrier. Birds just did better in the air.
So when he woke up not only not where he expected, but underwater, Clint's first reaction was one brief moment of panic before clamping it down, because panic would definitely get him killed and he had a lot to live for to die so stupidly. There was a soft light filtering down from what was probably above him if the pull of gravity was any indication, something looped around his shoulders that felt familiar and so was discarded as not a threat for the moment, and a sense of being pushed up. Whatever was going on here, getting air was the most important thing, and only about a second of orienting himself and taking all of that information in passed before he was following that push and kicking to the surface. Fortunately it wasn't as deep as it looked and he broke the surface only a few moments later, gasping for a clean breath and sculling to the edge of the... fountain? What in the hell...? And why was a fountain so deep...?
Grabbing the rim, Clint hauled himself bodily up and over the side to sprawl on the ground, breathing heavily and waiting for the pressure in his head to even out. Once it did, he was smacked clean in the face with how cold it was, especially for someone who'd gone to sleep in early summer in Africa. It wasn't made better by the fact that he'd managed to fall in a pile of old snow, or that he was only wearing what looked like white scrubs and some decent boots – neither of which he'd ever seen before. (At least the scrubs weren't blue.) Sitting around wasn't going to help anything, and he needed to dry off and warm up before his muscles seized and he got hypothermia. Waiting would do him and anyone else stuck in this situation no good. Pushing himself to his feet, Clint started stumbling to the nearest building that looked like it was inhabited, determined to find some answers.
2) Acclimatization (Early Afternoon)
Absolutely nothing about this place made sense. That was the only conclusion he could come to – it had to be magic, or alien science, or something. How else could a person (group of people, probably) kidnap so many different people from so many different times and worlds and with so many different skillsets? And not have any of them remember how they got here or be able to find a way out? They had to be dealing with something beyond any of their experiences and that, more than anything, was a frightening thought.
But he didn't let it show, because it would do no good. Panicking would just leave them stuck at square one, and so the first step was to canvas the area. It would take him a few days to map the entire place (as much as he could), but for now Clint – now warm, dry, and wearing every speck of clothing that had been in that pack since it was a shock to go from summer to winter – was taking his first walk around the village, ducking into every major building just to see what's going where and start making his mental map. Know where all the hiding places and all the exits are. Don't get stuck in a corner if you can at all help it. Maybe they were trapped in this place, but they didn't need to make it easy for whoever put them there.
3) Analysis (Late Afternoon/Evening)
Maybe it was a dumb idea for his first day, but Clint didn't even try to stop himself from taking a short walk into the woods. He wouldn't go far – monsters or animals or whatever weren't something he wanted to take on without at least a knife he could throw – but it was another resource, another set of potential hiding places, and it sounded like their best chance for food. He hadn't grown up with nothing in the backwoods of the mountains, but he knew how to survive out there and how to best live off the land if he had to. He was good at hunting and he was not good at sitting around and doing nothing (much to the annoyance of the doctors at S.H.I.E.L.D.). Day One was probably too early to jump in like that, especially since he had nothing to hunt with, but he wanted a first look so he could start making some plans.
WHERE: Around town, the fountain...
WHEN: Throughout January 19th
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to encounter him
WARNINGS: Standard mentions of drowning, otherwise TBD, but there'll probably be talk of fighting at the very least. Violent babies.
STATUS: Yes (if this changes, I'll edit)
1) Arrival (Early Morning)
Waking up underwater was pretty much the last thing Clint expected after managing to fall asleep after their rescue – and it was pretty much the worst. Whatever phobias he'd had as a kid had been trained out of him over the course of his life, but there was still a lingering thread of unease about really deep water, since even with as good as swimmer as he was he probably wouldn't be able to escape it fast enough to find breathable air. It didn't ever lock him down or stop him from going on any sort of underwater transport, but he was always just a hair more primed to act when on a sub or a submerged helicarrier. Birds just did better in the air.
So when he woke up not only not where he expected, but underwater, Clint's first reaction was one brief moment of panic before clamping it down, because panic would definitely get him killed and he had a lot to live for to die so stupidly. There was a soft light filtering down from what was probably above him if the pull of gravity was any indication, something looped around his shoulders that felt familiar and so was discarded as not a threat for the moment, and a sense of being pushed up. Whatever was going on here, getting air was the most important thing, and only about a second of orienting himself and taking all of that information in passed before he was following that push and kicking to the surface. Fortunately it wasn't as deep as it looked and he broke the surface only a few moments later, gasping for a clean breath and sculling to the edge of the... fountain? What in the hell...? And why was a fountain so deep...?
Grabbing the rim, Clint hauled himself bodily up and over the side to sprawl on the ground, breathing heavily and waiting for the pressure in his head to even out. Once it did, he was smacked clean in the face with how cold it was, especially for someone who'd gone to sleep in early summer in Africa. It wasn't made better by the fact that he'd managed to fall in a pile of old snow, or that he was only wearing what looked like white scrubs and some decent boots – neither of which he'd ever seen before. (At least the scrubs weren't blue.) Sitting around wasn't going to help anything, and he needed to dry off and warm up before his muscles seized and he got hypothermia. Waiting would do him and anyone else stuck in this situation no good. Pushing himself to his feet, Clint started stumbling to the nearest building that looked like it was inhabited, determined to find some answers.
2) Acclimatization (Early Afternoon)
Absolutely nothing about this place made sense. That was the only conclusion he could come to – it had to be magic, or alien science, or something. How else could a person (group of people, probably) kidnap so many different people from so many different times and worlds and with so many different skillsets? And not have any of them remember how they got here or be able to find a way out? They had to be dealing with something beyond any of their experiences and that, more than anything, was a frightening thought.
But he didn't let it show, because it would do no good. Panicking would just leave them stuck at square one, and so the first step was to canvas the area. It would take him a few days to map the entire place (as much as he could), but for now Clint – now warm, dry, and wearing every speck of clothing that had been in that pack since it was a shock to go from summer to winter – was taking his first walk around the village, ducking into every major building just to see what's going where and start making his mental map. Know where all the hiding places and all the exits are. Don't get stuck in a corner if you can at all help it. Maybe they were trapped in this place, but they didn't need to make it easy for whoever put them there.
3) Analysis (Late Afternoon/Evening)
Maybe it was a dumb idea for his first day, but Clint didn't even try to stop himself from taking a short walk into the woods. He wouldn't go far – monsters or animals or whatever weren't something he wanted to take on without at least a knife he could throw – but it was another resource, another set of potential hiding places, and it sounded like their best chance for food. He hadn't grown up with nothing in the backwoods of the mountains, but he knew how to survive out there and how to best live off the land if he had to. He was good at hunting and he was not good at sitting around and doing nothing (much to the annoyance of the doctors at S.H.I.E.L.D.). Day One was probably too early to jump in like that, especially since he had nothing to hunt with, but he wanted a first look so he could start making some plans.
no subject
Peggy has none of that finesse that she'd come up against, but lucky for her, Dottie didn't have Peggy's brute strength. "I pity anyone who went through that system. I'll still stop them," she makes a point of saying, "but I do pity them."