pixie app

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🦋 OOC Information

Name: Shawna
Contact: shadowesque @ plurk and discord
Age: my birth year begins with a 1
Other Characters: n/a
Invitation: everyone say 'thanks epi'
Permissions: boop but lemmie know if you want a more thorough one/the pixie-specific one

🦋 IC Information

Character Name: Clint Barton
Age: let's just call him ~53~
Canon: MCU
Canon Point: end of Hawkeye (2021) (wait what the fuck do you mean 2021)
Character History: hey what the fuck's a timeline anymore
Canon Abilities: god not letting him die
no wait I should be serious:
not a single supernatural, superhuman thing
but also the most uncanny aim you have ever seen that looks like it's beyond-human
also proficiency in spying, tech, vehicles, weaponry, any skill listed under dex, blending in and being overlooked
but also nothing that could be bartered or traded for magic/goods/services
Inventory: The clothes on his back (fit for colder weather), hearing aid (bc I'm not that mean; it'll either have some handwaved magic mojo on arrival or he'll hit up strange or tony for some enchantment to make it...y'know not run out of battery), and one (1) retractable sword
bc shut up we don't know what happened to it and you're not burning a fucking sword like you can a suit so maybe he had it on him shhhh

🦋 Personality

Option 2:

Dead

His eyes open.

It's always too bright, for just a few blistering moments.

Sometimes it's frantic. Sometimes it's rushing around, a sky or a ceiling moving above him with indistinct faces hurrying him along. Sometimes it's painful and bloody. Sometimes he knows exactly what's going on. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes it's after, that he closed his eyes one moment and opens them to peace, a steady beeping near him, maybe a hand gently in his, maybe not.

Even when it's dark, his eyes protest that it's too bright, until he comes back to himself, adjusts. Finds himself alive again. Finds himself with more work to do when the rest is done. Too much to do to be resting.

Shot. Stabbed. Laser blasted. Broken bones. Fractures. Concussions. Punctures. Lacerations. Bruises so deep he feels them in his marrow. His skin split open and pouring out. His limbs difficult to move. Explosions around him. Heat, fire, smoke, weight threatening to crush.

And each time, he's alive. And each time, he's alive. And each time, he's alive.

And each time, he doesn't understand his luck.

And each time, death passes him by like a good friend, waving at him from a distance as if to say soon.

And each time, his eyes open.

Pride

Of course he's good at what he does. Because the second he doubts himself, he loses his title.

Maybe that's a silly way to think of it. There's no official title of world's greatest archer. There's nothing to lose but his own mental track record. Nothing but some pride to hurt.

Except that's not entirely true, is it? If he misses a shot, that's someone who could get hurt. That's a city block under fire. That's a building exploding. That's a country in upheaval. If he misses a shot, that's a teammate whose back he's stopped being able to effectively watch. That's one piece of ammo down with nothing to show for it. It's a mistake, and mistakes cost. Time, money, chances, lives.

He's the best at what he does, because if he doubts that for a moment, if he hesitates, if he misjudges a sure shot, then he's not the best anymore, and he might as well hang up his bow. Is it really pride if it's true?

Needle

There's a certain stillness and comfort that gets paired with the pain.

The tattoo artist wants to start chatty, but it's clear he isn't all that interested in talking much, just the occasional check in and not much else. The choices of design might be a little on the nose--the ronin, a specter and demon, in particular is such an in-joke he could choke himself with his own unfunny irony. The snake might not be original, but it feels inspired as an even deeper in-joke. The 'tattered' edges of the tattoo by his wrist to show that this is what he is underneath the veneer of humanity. The rest is--filler, really. An excuse for further work and touch-ups.

He knows that's why he allowed the artistic designs to get elaborate, lots of lines, lots of shade, lots of detail. It means more time under the needle. It means more time feeling a minor but present, consistent sting that he simply has to take without complaint, sat or laid back in the same spot for an achingly long time, letting himself drift down. Less staring at the ceiling and more losing himself into the middle distance. He doesn't forget. He never forgets. But in a way, it helps settle him. In a manner less destructive and less explosively violent than his day job does. The touch of another person, trusted, professional, and the hum of the gun, and the rhythmic dull ache along his skin. It's enough, for a time.

Sin

I got red in my ledger, she says audibly in the security feed he should not have access to, which has never stopped him before. I'd like to wipe it out.

He can see it's a ploy to get Loki to talk. He knows her well enough by now to see it. But he also knows the first rule of spycraft: you put truth in your lies. When he made a different call, seeing it in her, the way she wanted out, she hadn't put it in quite this way. But it's a sentiment he's come to understand.

They kill people for a living. They lie, and cheat, and steal, and torture, and kill. They do it all at the say-so of their government for the safety of the country's interests and the world at large. Natasha traded one master for another, only this one treats their agents better than the Red Room ever treats stolen little girls, and that makes all the difference. She can never truly make up for the damage that's been done, but she can try to put more good into the world than she took out, or at least break even.

His ledger is just as red. And he has no problem with the fact that the ledger will never balance. There is no accountant of his soul that will bring the numbers to an even zero. That's the price he pays, and he does it willingly, with eyes open. Someone has to. Good, evil, right, wrong, it's all about perspective. And his perspective is: he's got red in his ledger. And it'll stay that way until he dies.

Child

The couch has a funky smell to it, but it's softer than the backseat of the car. Mom insisted he sleep there while she nests herself in an uncomfortable-looking pile of throw pillows and blankets on the floor. It's just a temporary stop, a place they can borrow that's a friend of a friend's (of a friend's, he doesn't say but adds mentally). He's pretty sure she doesn't mean to cry herself to sleep, but in the morning she's all smiles just for him.

When he holds the baby in his arms, Laura teases him for being rendered speechless. She's radiant in the glow of exhaustion and good drugs. Little Cooper sleeps soundly in his swaddle. They had talked, and planned, and prepped, and even after all of that, he's hit with a wave of understanding. There is never enough to be done ahead of time to prepare for a child. It's going to be work, hard and satisfying work, to make sure this child grows up safe and loved.

He can tell that for a moment, just a small split second of a moment, but one his good eyes catch nevertheless, that Lila doesn't recognize him. The quiet distrust of a toddler still trying to understand the world around them. His deployments don't last as long as wartime military stints, he knows, but sometimes he's gone for weeks, sometimes even months, and that's an eternity to a small child. When he crouches low and opens his arms, the distrust evaporates in a heartbeat, and her tiny feet carry her gleefully into a hug. Amazing how someone so tiny and young can break and mend his heart so quickly. He'll stay as long as he can. But the world is a little safer for her to live in, now, because of what he does. He has to hold to that.

🦋 Fae Court

List your top three choices for your characters adoptive court. The mods will choose the one out of those three options that seems the most fitting based on your app.

• Autumn


• Winter


• Day

Ability: Do you want your character to gain the ability of their court? (Delete the other two options.)
1) No, they will retain their canon abilities.
(side note to put a pin in this for later: he may yet decide to go in for the ability in desperation, become tricked into it, or otherwise come into debt in another manner; he's just not gonna take it up immediately)

🦋 RP Samples

what a fortuitous tdm