Clinton F. Barton

Not doing anything when something was happening right in front of them was the anthesis of what made either of them. It felt like the sort of thing that Avengers should already taking action on but every call he's made to Avenger-fuck-off Mountain has met with... These things take time, he won the election Clint, there's a process that has to be done.

Sitting on hands, that's not what Avengers do, that's not what he remembers doing back in the day with Cap, Wanda, Jan, Hank. They didn't do that. Why weren't they doing anything now? It's all the reasoning with himself to listen to Francis propose they go make trouble. ❝ I think they are smuggling the vampiric Queen of England. ❞

Clint's been going on long walks, going further north out of their neighborhood, and simply looking with his eyes. No entering. Not doing anything because... they can't be superheroes, they can't be the Hawkeyes. ❝ Mh. Can't recall who wore it last; collecting dust in some vault. Believable theft? ❞ He chimes in to this thought process, considering the logistics. ❝ Ol' twin switcharoo. ❞ They've done it plenty of times, and not all of them have ever been found out.

Can't tell Kate makes a pit drop in his stomach, because Francis is right. He's going to feel guilty about that, that's Kate, their Kate. They've both promised her things, multiple times, but... Francis is his brother, his twin, if he says NO Kate... No Kate.

🦻 ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ​🇫​​🇺​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇧​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇾​     — ❝ Why can't it just be drugs anymore? ❞ Francis rolled his eyes. He missed the old days when it was just military ammunition and money laundering. Now everything needs to be so damn dramatic. Always had to be an arms race of some sort. Fine. Vamperic old lady, it is. A hand carts through his hair. He flicks the coin at Clint.

Francis had been trying to be good. Keeping in his lane. Doing the crosswords and appearing for pictures, saving cats in trees. But you can only distract yourself for so long. ❝ Damn. Seems like a waste that someone has our stuff. ❞ He's trying to tamp down a smile. This was going to be bad.

❝ Plasuable is all we need. ❞ He shrugs, and his brain tracks similar themes. Always side by side. Francis finally looks at Clint. His face is hard. Theft was easy. What comes after was only going to get more complex. ❝ The oldest trick we got. ❞

Why is New York such a fucking breeding ground for heroes? There's too many of them — too many people trying to tell him how to protect his city. They only cause more panic, more damage. That's no different with these ... Avengers? Aggravating, more like, and always in his business.

🦻 ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ​🇫​​🇺​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇧​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇾​     — ❝ Not even a hi? A hello? ❞ Hawkeye huffs and has his bow half pulled. Kids today. Awfully bold to claim he owns a city when so many blood feuds have been going on before he was born. He can appreciate the bravado.

[ @hitsharder ] ⤐ | I’m here. If you want to talk. . . If you ever want to.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨. Her hair slick and pieces sticking to the sides of her face, hands shaking as they gripped the edge of her bedsheets. His hand rested gently on the top of her knee, reassuring and comforting.

❝ No I ----- I'm okay, ❞ she said with shaky breath. ❝ Sorry for waking you. ❞ Kate reaches up and pins her hair behind either ear, her eyes still remain fixated down, but not really looking at anything in particular. ❝ You can go back to bed, Barton. Promise, I'll just go get some water or somethin'❞

🦻 ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ​🇫​​🇺​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇧​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇾​     —She didn't look okay. Clint thought about getting her some water, but didn't want to walk away. He sits down on the edge of her bed. Giving her plenty of space. Clint makes sure not to stare at her, to give her as much privacy as possible. He didn't ask any questions. Clint felt he didn't need to.

Clint waged war on believing that twin superstitions were real, that were only a half of a whole. An amalgamation of one person. Times he didn't believe, he hated it, rebelled against that for years. Then days that turned to weeks like these always proved to him they were true. It's like his belief-disbelief in gods, in magic, in everything. The bitter truth always comes to bite them.

Mayor Fisk cast a large shadow over the city, everything was in shades of grey now. Even the trees that should grow green in parks looked like they were a millennial grey; or maybe that's depression the both of them had been rotting in speaking. It's frustrating when everything loses its edges, turns to dullness.

He's an avenger. They were avengers. He should be doing about this. Clint needed to be doing something about, and he could feel his brothers eyes on as he mulled over the coffee pot that Francis put on. What's yours is mine, and that caffeine was everything he needed right now, despite the eighteen hour slumber he's arisen from; he's still tired.

❝ Y'know, the Mayor - ❞ The most derogatory tone Clint musters, loathing upon loathing there about how they've made everything docile. The Avengers weren't even in the city anymore. ❝ Balloted on cleaning up the city, but something still stinks about the docks. ❞

🦻 ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ​🇫​​🇺​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇧​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇾​     —Something about blatant injustice has him feeling like a dog on a leash. Pulling and pulling against authority that wouldn’t allow unseemly yet justified actions. They didn't have time to submit forms and appeals and wait for the broken system to try and right itself. He was growing restless. And Bartons don't do restless. He feels Clint's mind echoing his own. ❝ Hmm, you think they're moving more than just the usual cargo? I'd be up for some fishing. ❞

His voice is low. His tone airing on noncommital. ❝ Can’t be Hawkeyes. Has to be someone else, since we’re so public now. Is Ronin out? ❞ Francis flicks the coin and catches. He leans heavily on the counter. The ideas mull around his skull. ❝ If they can’t prove which of us did a crime, they can’t do a trial either. Wouldn't have enough evidence. ❞