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Applications Two
APPLICATIONS ARE CLOSED!
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Sample Application (Faith Lehane)
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Sample Application (Abel Nightroad/Mayfield RPG)
Sample Application (Bolin/Discedo)
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Clint Barton || MCU || Reserved
Contact Info: rebelledagainstheaven[@]gmail[dot]com /
Other Characters Played: N/A
Requested apartment:
Character Name: Clinton Francis Barton / Clint Barton / Hawkeye
Canon: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Canon Point: Post-The Avengers
Background/History: "Well, I see better from a distance." / "You and I remember Budapest very differently."
no subject
On the outside, Clint appears to be quiet, reserved, and sarcastic with a dry sense of humour. He’s a man of few words, but he makes them count when he does have something to put across, and as he makes himself blend into the background, going unnoticed more than he really needs to, he hears and sees so much more than people give him credit for, allowing him an advantage in some situations in knowing more than he ought to and letting him craftily be overlooked; he knows how to play it just right to work a situation to turn in his favour. He’s in full control of himself, perhaps to the point of being considered anti-social by some and a stick in the mud by others, but it helps him to get a job done and keep himself in check, and it’s what he relies on to survive from day to day, never quite taking it for granted that, if he allows himself to spiral out of control, then things could be a lot worse. His tight jawed comments, especially when enraged in the face of his enemies, are somehow far more threatening and carry the promise of a deadlier side than if he were to openly fly off the handle; he’s there for one reason and one reason only, and he’s determined to achieve it by taking out the intended target so that the world is better off for it and not lose focus by giving in to his emotions – those can always wait until later.
Clint is so much more than merely another field agent working for S.H.I.E.L.D. as both a soldier and a spy, the former more than the latter, and a master assassin at that. He comes with a rare skill set and an uncanny talent, which puts him up there with some of the world’s best, and adding to that the fact he favours the archaic bow and arrow as his preferred weapon makes him both unique and irreplaceable in ways that most take for granted. But he never appears to be anything but modest about it, comfortable enough with his abilities to work alongside those who are superhuman and/or have superpowers, people he no doubt looks up to and respects, admires in his own way, and yet still not consider himself good enough to actually be one of them. He is human, of course, but he’s got talent than most people could only dream of, and he prides himself on maintain it, on building it and pushing himself above and beyond in order to push limits and be good enough to fight with them if not be part of their circle. He knows he’s a mere mortal, easy to break and sway, but he comes with such fight, a passion to be good and to do the right thing, even if he does make and stick to his own morale code, at least he’s grounded, he knows where he is, and he shrugs off temptation wherever it lies, never straying from himself and the loyalty he puts in those who believe him in enough to give him the chance and opportunity to be kept around.
He comes across as a complex character, but at the same time he also seems to be more or less straightforward. He doesn’t trust easily, but growing up with a drunk and abusive father, a mother who didn’t care enough to protect him, and a brother who used him by taking advantage of their circumstances and then stabbing him in the back at every available chance, plus a stint in an orphanage and his time in the circus – well, it’s hardly unexpected that opening up and laying himself bare for others is something he’s learnt to avoid, keeping himself hidden away where no one can find him, to guard himself from being used and abused again is his approach to people; he’s come too far, and fought too hard to let anyone in to tear apart what he’s made of himself. If he trusts someone, they need to realise that it’s a privilege that not too many get with him, and that they’ve earned the honour, because it’s easier to break that than to find it.
Master assassin with perfect aim and the best training in covert affairs aside, Clint’s biggest and best weapon in his arsenal is sarcasm. He can shrug off everything and anything that hurts him, push his emotions aside to deal with at a later date, if at all, and go with the flow of whatever decides to throw itself at him. But without the light-hearted sarcasm to cover everything with, he would be so much more vulnerable and exposed. It allows him to appear confident, to cover up what he’s thinking and how he’s feeling, and unless someone happens to be skilled in reading between the lines, it gets him by, even makes him come off as a huge dick at times. But he does what he needs to in order to make him from one day to the next, and if he’s not enjoying life, picking out the small things and entertaining himself with them, then what’s the point? He might struggle when it comes to socialising and being himself, but he makes his presence known in other ways. He throws out sarcastic yet playful comments, he occasionally goes out of his way to play pranks on his fellow agents, and, if someone happens to be lucky enough to experience it, he knows how to have a damn good time and throws a hell of a party. People can say what they want about him, but he knows how to play to a crowd if he so chooses, even if those moments are few and far between.
Clint is in serious mode when he interacts with Fury on screen, proving that he takes his job seriously and pays more attention than people realise, and he shows as much respect for the man as he’s willing to openly express, carrying on the conversation in a civilised fashion, even when he’s being slightly spoken down to, pushed to do a better job the way Fury speaks to all of his agents. He also shows to Fury that he’s smarter than he makes himself appear to others, taking the bait, but not rising to it, as he explains how doors open from both sides, an aspect that the Director himself didn’t seem to consider until it’s pointed out. But, comparing this interaction between the two of them to what happens in the companion comic, Clint can be relaxed around him, as if the two are close enough to be something close to friendly, and he’s also freely able to joke playfully, comfortable in his presence. Loki even calls him up on how he failed to kill Fury, stating that he admires the man, and Clint admits that, even though he isn’t at his best with a gun and that everything was confusing after the mind control first took hold, his loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. and in turn to Fury is what kept him from carrying out the task sufficiently, plus the fact that he never misses a target unless he means to backs it up.
Not including Natasha, Clint appears to have a close relationship with Coulson in a way he does with few others, working or otherwise, and there’s apparent trust there not only for one of them to have the back of the other, but also for him to guide him true with his orders and for Clint to, however loosely, interpret them as he chooses, which we see in their brief scene together in Thor. Coulson doesn’t appear worried that Clint is the one pushing for a decision one way or the other, declaring it a last chance before he calls it himself, because he knows he won’t take the shot unless it’s a last resort. S.H.I.E.L.D. might be many things, but this shows a trait in Clint that other agents might not share; he’s not willing to pull the trigger unless there’s no other option without putting more people at risk, and, with what we saw of Thor, Clint didn’t have any good reason to act first and worry about the consequences later. In The Avengers, after Clint is compromised, he’s the one who calls Natasha up and informs her of this, perhaps because he’s one of the higher levels in security at S.H.I.E.L.D., but more than likely it’s because the two of them trust him, have worked directly beneath him at one point or another, and Coulson’s endless patience and ability to smile his way through a situation no matter how dire is probably one of the things that held the three of them together; it’s easy to assume that people lose patience with Clint easily, especially with his way of approaching things and his sarcastic and often cheeky attitude to life.
There is no doubt that Natasha and Clint are as close as two agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. with backgrounds such as theirs can be, and there are hints at a fair amount of history there between the two of them. There is footage on one of the monitors that shows the two of them fighting alongside each other, swift and sufficient, working like a well-oiled machine, and always coming as a team when the big stuff goes down. They joke about previous battles, no doubt a running joke between them to keep up morale and reassure one another that they’ve got each other’s backs. Natasha is the one who goes to seek Clint out on the Hellicarrier, the one who figures out a good knock to the head is the way to bring him back, and the one who goes to speak with Loki to make a plea for his whereabouts, even if it’s also to find out his next play, she gives away enough to let it show that Clint means a lot to her. And she’s also the one who stays with him while all hell breaks loose around them, easing him back and offering comfort the only way that she knows how; significant glances and unspoken words, a secret language that only the two of them know. Clint, unsurprisingly, doesn’t appreciate having someone push everything he is aside to make way for something else, something he doesn’t recognise, and something that’s added a lot more blood to his already stained hands. He attempts to ask her how many people he’s killed, but she refuses to let him do it, to take the guilt of what wasn’t within his control, even though it’s obviously not something he’s ever going to forget. He feels every life he takes, especially the innocent lives that get caught in the cross-fire, and whether he knows it’s his fault or not, he’ll blame himself for it; if he could control whatever it was that had a hold of him enough not to kill Fury, he’ll probably wonder why he couldn’t extend it to others just because he didn’t know them personally.
But Natasha will always keep him in check, help him to focus on what he can change and forget what he can’t; they balance each other out, constantly paying their debts to each other, and, if Natasha has any say in it, using it as the reason to keep each other around because a debt should always be paid. Clint, on the other hand, never gets an opportunity to express his view on their partnership, and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t; their shared looks speak volumes and bond them in ways no one else will ever truly be able to understand.
Clint doesn’t get much of a chance to interact with the team unlike the rest of them, being thrown in at the last minute to fight in the big battle, but if it bothers him then it doesn’t show. He doesn’t speak much to them unless it’s necessary, taking orders from Captain America and calling out things as he sees them from his vantage point. He takes the ridiculous names that Tony throws at him, mocking, but taking Stark’s own personal brand of respect and acceptance, a trait he can relate to it if it were toned down a notch or two; putting enough trust in Steve to follow his command, to rely on him to both give and take plays, to allow himself to be taken under his wing; he doesn’t comment on Bruce appearing, which could be taken badly, but if he had objections he would express them, so the man who turns into a giant green ball of rage is clearly yet another thing he’s willing to shrug off and go with the flow of, and, of course, he plays off Natasha whenever he gets the chance, a working relationship in combat that might, with time and patience, form between him and the rest of the team. But he will, no doubt, take the longest to adjust and feel part of the team rather than an outsider getting a moment on the inside, least of all because he’s only human and doesn’t possess a power as such, because even Stark has his genius and his money to offer, but because he needs to work his way into things with caution, to protect himself until he knows he’s good.
no subject
He's one of the world's best marksmen, if not the best, and he can do impossible things with a bow and arrow that most people couldn't even dream of. His perfect aim and ability to never miss unless he fully intends to extends to other weapons, such as handguns and sniper rifles, but if given a choice, and to use his uncanny talent to its full potential, he will always go for the bow first and foremost to combine the fact he's a master of archery as well as an expert marksman and feels most confident with it, as we see in Thor, and no one appears to argue with the choice (or, at least, Coulson doesn't, the man giving the order for eyes up high with a gun). Due to his time in the circus, Clint is also an expert at acrobatics, a little something extra he learned to spice up his act and that he now puts into any hand-to-hand combat he's forced into, which gives him exceptional strength and agility, and that's built up his stamina to take more than any human should be able to take.
He might see better from a distance and be put to better use taking out targets from a afar, but he's had military training to be the best in combat, using what's available to him, and, as we saw during the fight against Natasha whilst he was under Loki's sway, he's good with a set of knives, even if she is more than a match for him. He's also shown to be at an advanced level as a strategist, commanding small groups while attacking the Helicarrier, no doubt a plan that he formed and helped Loki to perfect, leading the countless soldiers to their deaths so that he could go off and get the important things taken care of, which shows he's good at both giving and taking orders, but that he's also quite capable of getting a job done in his own way and going to the extremes to get it done.
But, unlike some of the people he's worked alongside, Clint is a mere mortal, he comes with all of the weaknesses that being human brings, as well as a few of his own. He struggles to trust due to his background and upbringing, but he us loyal to a fault when he feels someone's earned it, and he has the tendency to pick up blame and bear the weight of it on his shoulders, even if it's not always down to him; he takes failures to heart, but because of it works that much harder in the attempts to succeed. Sleep doesn't come easy to him, so he often drinks a little to help get him there, but he's also terrified of ending up like his father. His aim is perfect from afar, and he's good at hand-to-hand, but it's not his strongest, and if someone were to take advantage of that, it might not be as hard as it ought to be to get the upper-hand given the wrong circumstances. He doesn't fair well with crowds, but he's good at acting his way through things, especially where work is concerned, but otherwise prefers solitude more often than not. And he never forgets, good or bad, which can sometimes effect his judgement, but he keeps morals he can live by, refusing the odd order when he finds fault in it, even though that doesn't help him when he's under someone else's control, which, it seems, he's easily susceptible to, magic or not.
Items/Weapons: Changed into casual attired, Clint will be entering with a bag containing the following:
-- His specially customised, S.H.I.E.L.D. sanctioned bow and quiver that function together whenever he requires a certain kind of arrow - the bow is no longer the one he started out with years ago, bits being replaced over the years, but he still refers to her as a she and calls her Rose; if asked nicely, he might share why that is.
-- Several concealed daggers that he keeps about his person at all times, one in particular he considers his favourite that he also may or may not have named, a garrote or two, and his Heckler & Koch P30.
-- Items of attire that make up his S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avenger uniform.
Sample Entry:
[ Waking up in a hospital bed is one thing, Clint's had his fair share of injuries since working for S.H.I.E.L.D., but this is a first. He doesn't know where he is, how he got here, or what he's wanted for, but after Loki, it's a little unsettling.
He's managed to explore the nearby surroundings, coming up empty, and there's no one around to ask. But, as luck has it, he's got a hold of a device to communicate with in a last hope of figuring this thing out. ]
Yeah, so you're not gonna believe this, but I have no idea where I am or how I got here. Anyone else hearing this and having the same problem? [ His expression, or what little there is there to see, is difficult to read, but beneath the surface of cool, calm, and collected, he's having a full-blown panic. Quietly. Deep down. His casual yet dry tone are enough to show his frustration and discomfort if anyone should know what to look for. ] 'Cause I'd feel a whole lot better if we could be in it together. Or, y'know, if there's someone out there who could give me some answers. Yeah, that'd be great.
[ There's a hesitance, as if he's planning to end the feed, but then thinks better of it. ]
Tasha, if you're seeing this, make that rescue a quick one, yeah? Gotta admit, this is weird, even for me. And I was looking forward to cashing in those vacation days I finally got approved.
Sample Entry Two:
Clint could be as talkative as the next person if he happened to be in the right mood for it, but a lot of the time he preferred to be alone, to keep to himself whenever and wherever possible, because it was simply easier that way more often than not – no one could get hurt, no lives put at risk because of any associations he might have had to them. He learned early on that cutting all ties was a wise move. He didn’t have that many ties left to sever to begin with, though, and sometimes it was as much of a blessing as it was a curse, but at least it was a choice and one that he got to make himself.
He liked being up high, a master at climbing things, especially roofs of any stature, which was where he was now – the building of a S.H.I.E.L.D. operations base, scouting out the surrounding area, eyes peeled like a hawk hunting through the darkness for prey, searching as far as humanly possible. He had good vision, though, exceptional even, and he secretly feared the day that it started to fade, a time when he might have to acquire contact lenses to aid him, because it was the one thing he was good at, that he got right every time, and without it he would be lost. But he had been lucky so far, and for that he was grateful.
Clint liked to sit and think, to ponder everything and nothing, to keep his thoughts focused and in check, forcing them wherever he wanted them and to never let them wander without permission. He could lose himself in thought for hours, never quite forgetting what it was he was supposed to be doing, the objective, but he did spend long, tedious hours at times watching and waiting, and that involved a lot of patience. It helped. He had never had much trouble passing the time away, losing himself amongst his thoughts and getting wrapped up in imagination. Much of the time, after he returned to the present, he couldn’t even recount what it was he had been pondering. And other times, he loved the challenge of not thinking, of putting everything into focusing on the job at hand, if the mission required it because it was more than a simple milk run. But not thinking often took plenty of thinking to get to that point in the first place, and there was certain things he never let himself dwell on if he could help it.
A voice came over the communications device subtly slipped in his ear, and he raised a hand to it, responded in a straightforward manner, obeying as if on autopilot. “On it, sir,” he assured, pushing up slightly from the position he had been in for who knows how long, crawling further around the edge of the building to keep his eyes on the trance of the perimeter as instructed. There was no target in sight, and it seemed unlikely there would be, but he did as he was asked all the same; there were people inside, people who helped protect the world, and he wasn’t going to let them or the rest of cavitation down by failing to do this.
He loved the feel of the quiver firmly over his shoulder, the bow hanging looser, ready to easily be pulled forward and swing into action. It was a lifeline, one thing he was good at, that he had spent countless hours on over the years, determined to improve his skill, and even now, after gaining his position and reputation, he still knew it could be better. He was driven to be better, never felt good enough, and he knew at that point that the interruption had pulled him too far out of his own easy thoughts, had pushed him into less pleasant ones. He pulled down his bow, held it in place, took aim on the entrance and squinted one eye, as if an enemy was about to walk right on in at any second. It helped him to control his wandering thoughts, to push them all in together to one side, to lock them away for when he was alone and free to do as he pleased, to wallow in them for a time in order to cast them better aside so that they didn’t become a problem later.
But until then, he was on duty, as he often was, and he was content enough. He had nowhere else to be, nowhere important to go. Being part of S.H.I.E.L.D. helped him to feel as if he was doing something meaningful with his life, something worthwhile – he took life, of course, but always threats to the innocent, terrorists who brought danger to the country, or, in some cases, the earth as a whole, even if it was always the last resort, and never if it could be avoided. He had done much wrong in his own sordid past that defending what he once helped destroy, however small, made him feel better about himself and where he came from. But he was lost before he found this, alone in the world, and even though he looked to be an outsider, hanging above the rest while other agents gave him odd looks, Clint felt like he belonged, had learned to call it home. It was the closest thing he had ever had to one, at least, and, ironically, one where he felt safe.
As determined as he was to protect the world, to push himself beyond the limits to be of use and to do the right thing whenever and wherever he could, there was still one more thing he was determined of, and that was to keep hold of that family, to never take it for granted, even when he was, because all families have their ups and downs, and he had never been disillusioned into thinking he was not awkward at times, difficult to put up with, and yet they did, for whatever reason.
He could live with that.
-> ACCEPTED
Re: -> ACCEPTED
And thank you!