save yourself ;

“I suppose that’s true.” She conceded. The whole idea of Twitter still didn’t make much sense to her: if it was for communication and updates, why did it limit how much you could say? She still didn’t know all that much about it apart from the basics, though, so she figured it wasn’t worth debating over. “There’s always a need for more people around that fight for the good guys.” Ororo said, a pleased smile breaking out over her face. “I hope I’ll do that, once I’m done with school. Fight for the good guys.”

“It seems like a nuisance, at least to me. There’s not enough room to say much of anything.” Of course, it probably didn’t help that she hadn’t spent much of any time around technology until now- there wasn’t much service in Kenya, let alone the sky she usually found herself hovering in. “Are you a lawyer, then?” She asked curiously.

He shrugged, not knowing enough about Twitter to make a lot of discussion about it. “Sometimes the most important things to say don’t require a lot of words,” Matt said, an air of slight ignorance on his tongue. Being a blind man didn’t lend very well to using a lot of electronic devices, he supposed. “Yes - I’m a defense attorney,” He answers, his voice steadying at the mention of his business, “We try to fight for the good guys - me and my partner.”

She laughed again. “Understandable.” She noted, standing up as well. It had probably been time to finish the rest her workout a while ago, but she’d completely forgotten. “I’m sure we will. See you around, Matt.”

Nodded in polite dismissal, he turned around, calling back over his shoulder, “Likewise, Sharon.” The click of his cane against the pavement was the only other thing he would respond with as he walked away from the woman, from the stranger.

She only shook her head and told him, “Well, Matt Murdock, I’m not most people.” It was her own version of being coy, and frankly, she enjoyed it. “I know… I know. I just…wish I knew what it was that I could do to help. I’m…I’m very keen on giving back to others, especially ones who have lost so much.” She gave a short stunted sigh, feeling the brevity of her own statement.

“Alliteration is good.” It certainly was, and left anyone who said his name with a wanting instinct to know him. “And a law firm with your best friend sounds like an ideal situation you’ve gotten yourself into. Certainly must be quite the dream you are living.” 

The blind man nodded grimly at her next words, once again feeling very sorry for the woman who felt the need to help people so deeply. She reminded him, in that moment, of Claire, of the nurse who cared for him so well when he was in need. He made a note to check up on her at a later time. “We have that in common, I suppose,” Matthew commented, though he wasn’t sure if recklessly vigilante-ing across the city was quite the same in all respects.

His face brightened once again at the further discussion of his fellow lawyer, of his best friend, of his brother. “Can’t really complain, I guess,” He replied sheepishly, though he’d been heavily complaining just moments beforehand, “He’s a good man. Love him to death - but he can be quite a card sometimes.”

“Wow, that’s… unlike Hell’s Kitchen, you guys must be doing a good job at keeping it this way. Keep an ear out anyway, I’m sure that goes without saying huh?” He was in the middle of drinking again when Matt brought up Spider-Man and nearly choked on the hot liquid, causing some to splash on his lap. Even though it was hurting, he couldn’t help but to laugh. “Ahh, that Spidey, he has a way with words doesn’t it?” He wiped off the coffee from his thigh before asking, “What brought that on for him to say that?”

“I honestly don’t know where all the chaos has gone - save for those damned robots that are running around,” Matt babbled, shrugging deeply, “And trust me - I’m always keeping an ear out.”

At the abrupt choking sound, the blind man jolted where he stood, careful not to let his own coffee spill in the process. He barely managed to withhold a snort at the mess Clint had made. “Need a napkin?” Matthew asked, a near-painful grin spreading its way onto his cheeks. In retrospect, he didn’t really think they had any napkins in the office. They did, however, have printer paper, which he supposed would would almost as well.

“You could say that again,” He replied bemusedly, snickering to himself, “He seemed to be convinced that I was some sort-of karate master in disguise. Which is ironic, because he doesn’t know that I am a sort-of karate master in disguise.” Thinking back on it, the whole conversation he’d had was incredibly strange. Spider-man was one-of-a-kind - that was for sure. “Apparently ‘handi-capable’ is the best way to describe a blind man who might have a black belt.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, trying to keep the noise to a minimum for his own sake. “Of course,” Matthew mumbled, “Thanks for the encouragement, I guess. Ignoring it is really all I can do.” And ignoring it - whatever that may entail - was all he did anyways.

Then when the man spoke again, his words were a tad bit harsher, though Pietro wondered if he intended for them to be. They were truthful after all. Pietro had sight, the blind man did not. Therefore the blind man’s opinion was much more valid. 

“Nah,” Pietro shrugged once again, “You’re right. I don’t know how much about how it is to be without sight, but I do know a lot of other things.” He knew a lot of speed, of how it felt to always be one step ahead of the world. He knew what the bond of family meant. He knew (or he hoped he did) when it was unwise to come across cocky or arrogant. 

“I suppose we all see things differently,” He commented, laughing dryly at the irony of his words, “And I mean that quite literally.” Taking a moment between words, he observed the stranger, attempting to take his own mind off of the searing migraine he’d developed over the course of the day.  Matt could hear the man’s pulse - always steady, always anticipatory, like a cheetah on the hunt.

“Well - I obviously know about being blind,” The disgruntled man started, rubbed absently at his cheek, “What is it that you know about?”

After letting go of his hand, she only shook her head at his statement. “No…no…. you…it’s fine. You just surprised me is all. Though, I guess I should have been expecting something more than just a limp handshake.” She tried, feeling completely embarrassed for herself at this point. “Sorry. I just…I’m not used to…interacting with people, let alone…ones that can’t see.” Was that insensitive? Was she just screwing this whole friendship thing up? That was usually like her, but she felt a little heated all of a sudden, and really couldn’t pull herself back up. “What sort of business is that though?” She at least tried.

Matt Murdock was such a good name. Quick, witty, and just had a sort of authoritative ring to it. “It’s a nice forte.” She continued on, hoping that maybe a bit of flirting could help her out of the tough spot she got into. “Certainly fits you quite well. A name I won’t soon forget.” She finally let her eyes search over his face, leaving the unseeing eyes and onto the other details of his face, leaning back a bit to give him a bit more space.

“Most people don’t expect a handshake at all,” He admitted, trying to soothe the other woman’s anxiety about his handshake, “Being that I can’t see their hands to give them a shake in the first place, of course.” Matt nodded sympathetically, “It’s not your fault, Crystal. It’s not anyone’s fault.” He didn’t know how to comfort people - especially women. He’d been so keen on keeping as few close friends as possible that comforting anyone outside of Karen and Foggy was a travesty to mankind. However, she’d attempted to switch the subject, and he’d roll with it.

“I work at a law firm - run it with my best friend,” His only friend, “And another one of my friends, of course. She kinda helps keep the two of us in line.” Matt smiled warmly at the woman, laughing lightly at her observations about his name. “Thank you,” He replied, inwardly preening, “I’m a big fan of alliteration, so it’s good for me.”

When Matt told him it was cold, he pulled a bit of a face. “How about I make us a fresh, hot batch of coffee?” He set the file down he had and approached Matt. “My coffee is to die for.” Clint grinned then set about making them some hot coffee now. “Anyway, besides the whole Jessica Jones down the docks event, heard anything going on? Any plots? Secrets from the bad guys?” Once the coffee was done, he poured it into two mugs and handed one to Matt, making sure he had hold of the handle first before letting it go. 

Upon receiving the new drink, Matt was inclined to immediately scarf the whole thing down - tastebuds be damned. However, the last time he’d done that, nothing had tasted quite right for about a week, so he refrained, going back to swirling the liquid around and taking careful sips between his words. “Honestly - it’s been eerily quiet around here lately, and I mean that quite literally,” The blind man rambled, scratching idly at the back of his neck, “I mean... I met Spider-man a little while ago... He called me handi-capable.” For the second time that day he’d thought of that strange little moment, and it still didn’t fail to make him want to giggle uncontrollably.

“To be fair, they can make coffee taste pretty not-coffee-like these days.” She offered, still smiling. “Besides that, yeah.” She grinned, nodding her head encouragingly. Seasonal depression sounded pretty accurate, if by ‘seasonal’ depression she meant ‘post-revelation-that-S.H.I.E.L.D.-was-nothing-like-she’d-thought’ depression. “Sounds about right.” She acknowledged, leaning back onto the bench.

He turned to face the woman. “I’d ask to shake your hand, but given that I can’t see - most handshakes of mine don’t turn out to well.” Matt stood up from the bench, gathering up his cane as he did so. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, especially if I go on walks as much as you go on runs.”

Somewhere between the dead fish and the sinus pressure, was Matthew Murdock wondering why he wasn’t vehemently claiming that he was okay. He’d probably be fine in a little while, and if he wasn’t fine, then he’d probably be dead in a little while - which was almost better than being fine. Nobody needed to bother themselves with his head trauma. “Head hurts - just started hurting,” He elaborated curtly, massaging his temples uselessly, “It kinda feels like pressure changes, or maybe an ear infection... Probably just getting a migraine. Not your fault.” At least, that was what he presumed.

The world did have a habit of changing rather rapidly. It seemed as though it was only yesterday that she’d been back home in what felt like a completely different universe than New York, where she was free to take to the sky whenever she pleased. “I still don’t have a Twitter yet.” She mused absently.

“I’d get a twitter if it already wasn’t hard enough to use a phone,” Matthew remarked, “I think my friend made an account for the law firm we run together... It hasn’t caught on just yet...” Though they had gotten several follows from people trying to take the money that they didn’t even have.”

This stranger didn’t know that, though, and while they were the only two in the room, the blind man hadn’t expected him to respond. He mirrored the other male’s shrug, slouched quite lifelessly in the pews. His lips parted for a moment, letting out a sigh, before he spoke again. “I’m sure you know lots of things,” Matt rambled uselessly, his words in a drawl, “However, you are not blind, so your opinion is not as valid as mine.” He wondered, briefly, if that was a rude thing to say. He also wondered, briefly, if drinking scotch this early in the day was a bad idea.