you really came to know me when things were mostly neat and easy. your dad senses would go haywire if you knew the things we got up to growing up in novi grad.
Haven't we had enough shitty childhood stories between us? [Because while never as bad as Wanda's, not nearly, man, maybe they don't need more fucked up stories about growing up.]
I can take on a powered person just fine so long as I can shoot them from a distance or have something else going on besides taking them head on in fisticuffs.
too bad. i only have one container for everything.
( please, clint!! )
see you soon.
( wanda will make her way to the address clint gave her, on her motorcycle, and will stop only the one time to ask for proper directions. once she is certain she is in the right motel, in front of the correct door, she will knock.
she's got a backpack with cleaning supplies, and an actual plastic bag where the food is in a container. don't worry about cross-contamination. )
[Clint does not look any worse for wear, except that the bruises have had time to really blossom into dark blooms. So maybe a little worse. But he's not any worse.]
Hey there. [It's not much on the inside. At the end of the day, it's a motel, what do you want. There's a bed, a couple places to put things, a bathroom that works most of the time. Maybe if all his fighting and looting and working earns him enough joolies, he can upgrade to a room with a bathroom that works all the time. Lap of luxury!
The mold's not great, though. It creeps along the joints of the walls, not smothering, but more than anyone should want to have in their room. Given the amount anyone should want in their room is zero.] Make yourself at home.
( he's definitely worse than what she remembers, last time she saw him in person, sporting new bruises over his old one, and looking like he might have been braving those punches and hits he got from his opponents tonight. it's strange, considering how he's always been less of a close-combat fighter in her time knowing him, to see him like this.
but they have crossed that bridge before in the past.
wanda tries her best to make herself at home when she walks in, but it's impossible to not notice the mold on the walls. it's not bad, but it could do with being better.
she sets the bag down on the table, once she's made sure it's clean. wanda glances at him. )
Cute flying city rats that probably taste like chicken? [He's just assuming she's asking because it's on the menu.] Probably less gamey than quail.
[It's strange. To see her again, in general, and have her here, and for her to invite herself over like they're going to pretend anything is normal. She's worried, and she's got every right to be.]
I know better than to tell you you don't have to take care of me. Not gonna keep me from thinking it loudly though.
( so, it's not like she'd be able to tell or agree with his statement. still, his words don't deter her from going about opening the bag and putting the food containers down on the table. she even brought some of those wooden forks and spoons.
for clint's benefit, the food is still warm. )
Don't worry, I'll ignore your thinking, too. ( she takes a sidestep, pulling up one of the chairs at the table. ) Have a seat. It actually tastes pretty good.
( considering this is food made by a 'cook' proper and all. )
Cool, I ignore my own thinking all the time anyway.
[He isn't stiff in his movements. That'll come tomorrow, after whatever rest he gets, when the soreness really kicks in. That won't keep him from his job, obviously. Or any of his other activities. He slumps into the seat and gives the food a whiff.] Smells pretty normal, and y'know what? I'll take smells normal and tastes good around here.
[Not that the food is necessarily bad. It just...sometimes tends toward weird.]
So. You placing bets on anyone when you go watch fights?
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you really came to know me when things were mostly neat and easy. your dad senses would go haywire if you knew the things we got up to growing up in novi grad.
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So you like watching fight club in real life huh. Hope I wasn't an embarrassment.
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( the shit young clint got up to. )
i guess it helps when you aren't fighting enhanced individuals or people with powers. you did ok.
( lol wanda )
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I can take on a powered person just fine so long as I can shoot them from a distance or have something else going on besides taking them head on in fisticuffs.
1/2
( anyway, )
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( get the hint, clint! )
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[Look...]
Should we go for noodles again? Maybe meat fruit burgers?
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But that sounds nice. If you're willing. Dealer's choice.
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you choose to participate in the dome fights.
i haven't been to your place. what's the address ?
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It's not much. It's home away from home for now.
Does your place have mold? I could visit you instead.
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we got the place cleaned up pretty well.
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( please, clint!! )
see you soon.
( wanda will make her way to the address clint gave her, on her motorcycle, and will stop only the one time to ask for proper directions. once she is certain she is in the right motel, in front of the correct door, she will knock.
she's got a backpack with cleaning supplies, and an actual plastic bag where the food is in a container. don't worry about cross-contamination. )
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Hey there. [It's not much on the inside. At the end of the day, it's a motel, what do you want. There's a bed, a couple places to put things, a bathroom that works most of the time. Maybe if all his fighting and looting and working earns him enough joolies, he can upgrade to a room with a bathroom that works all the time. Lap of luxury!
The mold's not great, though. It creeps along the joints of the walls, not smothering, but more than anyone should want to have in their room. Given the amount anyone should want in their room is zero.] Make yourself at home.
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but they have crossed that bridge before in the past.
wanda tries her best to make herself at home when she walks in, but it's impossible to not notice the mold on the walls. it's not bad, but it could do with being better.
she sets the bag down on the table, once she's made sure it's clean. wanda glances at him. )
How do you feel about pigeon?
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[It's strange. To see her again, in general, and have her here, and for her to invite herself over like they're going to pretend anything is normal. She's worried, and she's got every right to be.]
I know better than to tell you you don't have to take care of me. Not gonna keep me from thinking it loudly though.
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( so, it's not like she'd be able to tell or agree with his statement. still, his words don't deter her from going about opening the bag and putting the food containers down on the table. she even brought some of those wooden forks and spoons.
for clint's benefit, the food is still warm. )
Don't worry, I'll ignore your thinking, too. ( she takes a sidestep, pulling up one of the chairs at the table. ) Have a seat. It actually tastes pretty good.
( considering this is food made by a 'cook' proper and all. )
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[He isn't stiff in his movements. That'll come tomorrow, after whatever rest he gets, when the soreness really kicks in. That won't keep him from his job, obviously. Or any of his other activities. He slumps into the seat and gives the food a whiff.] Smells pretty normal, and y'know what? I'll take smells normal and tastes good around here.
[Not that the food is necessarily bad. It just...sometimes tends toward weird.]
So. You placing bets on anyone when you go watch fights?