hasthehighground: (breathe in)
[personal profile] hasthehighground
When Clint walks into the bar... he doesn't want to be here.

He hurts, all over, with a headache and bandaging across his back, and pain medicine working with the lack of sleep. Even after 12 hours crashed at Stark Tower last night.

But he owes someone an apology. So he gets a bottle of water, and takes off his sunglasses (tucking them over his shirt) before making his way upstairs.

He stops at Oswin's door, leans his good shoulder against the wall, and knocks.

If it's a little quiet, well: he's a little freaked out.

Date: 2015-08-01 05:41 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
There's a silence from the other side of the door. It's not the silence of an empty room - it's the silence of someone sitting stock-still on their couch, watching the door and holding their breath.

A small spidery robot peers down at Clint from over the edge of the door frame.

Date: 2015-08-01 05:55 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
The bot whirs to itself for a few minutes (or rather, the focusing elements in the camera whir as Oswin studies the image on her screen).

Then there's a blast of sound (Toreador, at volume), rapidly silenced from both the bot and, softer, inside the apartment.

'Sorry, sorry, wrong button.' Oswin's voice, slightly tinny with the connection and the bot's tiny speakers, follows the music.

She doesn't want to be afraid.

Date: 2015-08-01 06:20 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
'I'm fine.' The sounds from the other side of the door are less muffled as Oswin edges closer to the door. 'You're hurt.'

Date: 2015-08-01 06:32 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
The door opens, because... well.

Oswin is a genius, a survivor... and not exactly known for her amazing life choices.

"There was something wrong, I knew it."

Date: 2015-08-01 06:49 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
It's his tone of voice rather than the lack of weaponry that convinces her - after all, he didn't use a weapon last time.

"You should come in, I have. Um. Chairs. And things. Are you alright? I mean, are you going to be alright, 'cause you're not..." She flails her way through that sentence with a startling lack of coherency, backing away from the open doorway to let him in.

And if she's careful to keep one of her hands out of sight, that's her own business.

Date: 2015-08-01 06:59 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
With a lack of anything to do, she goes to start the kettle on the stove.

"Um. I mean. If you want to. You seemed..."

Odd. Angry.

Very angry.

Date: 2015-08-01 07:22 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (O Broken Girl)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
"Subtract love, add anger." Officially, aliens that get in your head suck. "This is real, if that helps."

Date: 2015-08-01 07:36 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
"That's... good, right?" Oswin asks hesitantly. "I mean. You're glad about that?"

Date: 2015-08-01 07:42 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (O I... see)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
"That's good, then." She's almost painfully relieved to hear him sound like... well. Like him, again. "Should I apologize for not dropping something on your head?" She heard that comment about a hard reset - honestly, it hadn't occurred to her.

Generally she tries to not hit people about the head.

Date: 2015-08-01 07:47 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
"I. Um."

She fiddles with the tea-rag, awkwardly.

"There's a doctor. Not, um. Him, of course. But she... she helps." Oswin explains, made hesitant again.

"She said I should avoid you."

Date: 2015-08-01 07:57 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D Time to be a little bit badass)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
"Not badly." She bristles, the same way she did at Alana when the topic was brought up. "You're my friend, you idiot. Besides, it's not like you're exactly winning this alien-invader arms race. You're the one that walked into the rooms of someone that's been called a Dalek."

Date: 2015-08-01 08:04 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D Totally judging here)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
"Yeah." Her smile is a crooked, long-weary thing.

"He had a point... but why do you think I don't like doctors? The definite article thinks I'm the epitome of evil."

Date: 2015-08-01 08:16 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D Totally judging here)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
Oswin snorts with unexpected laughter. It's not that Clint's wrong, per say, it's just she wasn't thinking to hear it like that.

"Well, so's your alien, so there."

Date: 2015-08-01 08:52 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D I'm sorry whut?)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
She nods, her hands twisting in the tea towel again.

"You're not... I mean. You'll come back." She refuses to make it a question. A question he can deny. A statement he should have a harder time with.

Date: 2015-08-01 09:11 am (UTC)
souffle_girlek: (D Time to be a little bit badass)
From: [personal profile] souffle_girlek
"You better believe it, mister." Oswin agrees, firmly. "One completely sans dinosaurs. I'm afraid I have to insist."

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Clint Barton

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