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xp_logs2014-09-20 05:18 pm
x-hawkeye.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2014-09-20 05:18 pm
Matt & Clint | Saturday Evening (backdated slightly)
Clint offers Matt some advice on his tie and they talk about a few different things.
Clint kicked back on the couch in Matt's room, alternating an ice pack between his face, which still hurt despite Laurie's efforts, and the shoulder he'd slammed into the wall while running through the training sequence from hell in the Danger Room. He'd known what he was getting into when he asked Scott to load that program - or at least he thought he'd known. Glancing up at Matt, Clint said, "Straight tie, not bow tie. You know I can't help you with color stuff."
"Siri helps with the colours," Matt joked, waving his phone around for a moment. "Like if I waved it on your face right now, I'm sure she'd tell me that there were plenty of blacks and blues and whatever else on there. But I'm thinking bow tie. Because it hooks and I don't have to actually tie it."
"From what Laurie said, it's probably more like green and yellow, but your point stands," Clint said, smiling despite himself. "Jeez, that Danger Room session killed me. No, actually, it didn't - it only made me wish it'd killed me." He looked over at Matt and asked, "Is this a formal thing? I know people were talking about it, but I was kind of busy having my face punched."
"Uh, I think so. Julian is big money and all that," Matt shrugged, "If not, then I look like I'm overdressed and awesomely making a statement. I got the tux regardless," he could see the benefit of owning one versus renting, "So I shouldn't do this then?" he poked a finger at Clint's forehead. "I've had plenty of bruises and stuff from DR training. You learn."
Clint ducked easily away from Matt's finger as it came toward his forehead. "You're just lucky I'm in too much pain right now to get back at you for that." Then he looked over the tux and asked, "I think you're making a statement with the boots, to be honest, but dude - think about it. No tie. Be a rebel."
"The boots are awesome," Matt agreed. Best thrift store purchase ever. "No tie?" he fingered the collar of his shirt consideringly, "So then....what? Just the shirt?" he grinned, pulling the boots on and tucking his pants into them, "What scenario did you run anyways?"
"Yeah, just the shirt," Clint confirmed, nodding as he re-positioned the ice pack on his shoulder. "A thing for my spatial awareness - basically dodging everything. And I did alright until the end. I mean, nothing hit me, but I decided smashing into a wall to avoid a boulder the size of PD was a good idea. Turns out - not so much."
"Oh, I've done that one," Matt nodded, remembering, "It's a bitch. I had to do it for my sonar. Ended up contorting in a couple ways I don't know how I did and screwed up my shoulder for a couple days. Works though," a couple run throughs with it and he had improved his sonar substantially.
"Yeah, I can see where I need to work on things really clearly now," Clint said, quirking another smile. "Mostly, though, I'm buried in old mission reports. It's cool, but between that and my classes at Columbia, I basically fell asleep with my face on the console last night." Leaning his head back against the couch cushion, he asked, "Why're you going to this thing, anyway? Keller talked to me, same as everybody else, I guess, but since I'm not a New Mutant anymore, I didn't see much point - and anyway, not eighteen. Or twenty-one. Or interested in partying with people who are those. Mostly I'm in a bad mood, though, so you should probably ignore me. Except for the advice about the tie."
"See? Between the two of us, we have almost-normal vision!" Matt joked, "I dunno. It's a party. I like fancy foods and stuff. Maybe meet someone? I dunno." It had just sounded like fun, really, "Not 21, but I don't drink anyways. And I gotta be able to deal with situations where there's alcohol or other crap and say no, avoiding it forever won't exactly work realistically."
"All valid points," Clint acknowledged, shifting on the couch again to make his shoulder more comfortable. "And we totally don't have normal eyesight between the two of us." He chuckled at the thought. "There's not much of anything about any of us that'd be normal, no matter how you theoretically mix us up."
"Hey now! I'm.....almost normal. Sorta. No green skin or shooting laser beams or whatever!" And if he did have those, then he would just be more awesome, "But all you have is super eyes. I got the rest. When our powers combine..."
"We'll turn into a blue dude with green hair who fights for the well being of the earth?" Clint asked, half-laughing. "Hey - you remember Shelly? Haven't heard anything about her in years. She's the one who told me Captain Planet was blue. And hey, anyway, I've got some spatial awareness thing. And the never missing thing. I guess we would make a pretty awesome combined superhero."
Shelly. Now there was a name he hadn't thought of in a while, "No idea," Matt replied, "I guess she's what? 17 now? I got taken away by the cops and I don't think I ever saw her after that. Mr. Crocker didn't go on trial for abuse, I went on trial for assault, so....she wasn't there," because if he had, Matt would have been taken to testify. "After that...it's not like we were encouraged to keep in touch or anything at the group home," he was put in a group home instead of a foster family. No one wanted him because he was not only damaged, but a juvenile offender.
"Yeah, she's my age," Clint said, nodding. "Or close enough, anyway. It took them a little while to move us out of the house, though. She and I kept in touch for a while, but she sort of dropped off after a couple years. I didn't know if they let you talk to her or not after everything."
Matt shook his head, "Nothing," he replied, "I mean, in juvie I was mostly in solitary, except for school and stuff where I basically had my own guard," which wasn't because he was especially violent, but because being blind he wasn't allowed into the general population. "Makes me sound like a hardened criminal or something, but there were guys in there who had done a hell of a lot worse than anything I ever dreamed of."
"I believe it," Clint said, moving the ice pack from his shoulder back to his face. "But hey - you're out. I'm sure Crocker got his, in the end, even if the police were assholes about everything."
"I hope so," that hadn't been a great part of his life and he had worked hard to put it behind him and not repeat the same mistakes. "And now we're here and things are so much better. You've got your foster dads, I'm in college, you're about to graduate.... It all worked out for us."
"Yep," Clint said, voice slightly muffled. He wasn't so sure, though, about Shelly. He should ask his caseworker, see if he could get her contact information again. "Think I'll head back down to the suite, see if I can guilt Billy into ordering Chinese or something. Have fun at the party."
"Dude, be careful. Billy might make it all rutabaga or something," unless actual cash and take-out was involved. Then there was less likely to be a mishap. "I'll tell you all about the ridiculousness of it tomorrow."
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna let him wish for Chinese - with my luck, he'd wind up making it rain lo mien or something," Clint said, grinning behind the ice pack as he stood up. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, man."
Clint kicked back on the couch in Matt's room, alternating an ice pack between his face, which still hurt despite Laurie's efforts, and the shoulder he'd slammed into the wall while running through the training sequence from hell in the Danger Room. He'd known what he was getting into when he asked Scott to load that program - or at least he thought he'd known. Glancing up at Matt, Clint said, "Straight tie, not bow tie. You know I can't help you with color stuff."
"Siri helps with the colours," Matt joked, waving his phone around for a moment. "Like if I waved it on your face right now, I'm sure she'd tell me that there were plenty of blacks and blues and whatever else on there. But I'm thinking bow tie. Because it hooks and I don't have to actually tie it."
"From what Laurie said, it's probably more like green and yellow, but your point stands," Clint said, smiling despite himself. "Jeez, that Danger Room session killed me. No, actually, it didn't - it only made me wish it'd killed me." He looked over at Matt and asked, "Is this a formal thing? I know people were talking about it, but I was kind of busy having my face punched."
"Uh, I think so. Julian is big money and all that," Matt shrugged, "If not, then I look like I'm overdressed and awesomely making a statement. I got the tux regardless," he could see the benefit of owning one versus renting, "So I shouldn't do this then?" he poked a finger at Clint's forehead. "I've had plenty of bruises and stuff from DR training. You learn."
Clint ducked easily away from Matt's finger as it came toward his forehead. "You're just lucky I'm in too much pain right now to get back at you for that." Then he looked over the tux and asked, "I think you're making a statement with the boots, to be honest, but dude - think about it. No tie. Be a rebel."
"The boots are awesome," Matt agreed. Best thrift store purchase ever. "No tie?" he fingered the collar of his shirt consideringly, "So then....what? Just the shirt?" he grinned, pulling the boots on and tucking his pants into them, "What scenario did you run anyways?"
"Yeah, just the shirt," Clint confirmed, nodding as he re-positioned the ice pack on his shoulder. "A thing for my spatial awareness - basically dodging everything. And I did alright until the end. I mean, nothing hit me, but I decided smashing into a wall to avoid a boulder the size of PD was a good idea. Turns out - not so much."
"Oh, I've done that one," Matt nodded, remembering, "It's a bitch. I had to do it for my sonar. Ended up contorting in a couple ways I don't know how I did and screwed up my shoulder for a couple days. Works though," a couple run throughs with it and he had improved his sonar substantially.
"Yeah, I can see where I need to work on things really clearly now," Clint said, quirking another smile. "Mostly, though, I'm buried in old mission reports. It's cool, but between that and my classes at Columbia, I basically fell asleep with my face on the console last night." Leaning his head back against the couch cushion, he asked, "Why're you going to this thing, anyway? Keller talked to me, same as everybody else, I guess, but since I'm not a New Mutant anymore, I didn't see much point - and anyway, not eighteen. Or twenty-one. Or interested in partying with people who are those. Mostly I'm in a bad mood, though, so you should probably ignore me. Except for the advice about the tie."
"See? Between the two of us, we have almost-normal vision!" Matt joked, "I dunno. It's a party. I like fancy foods and stuff. Maybe meet someone? I dunno." It had just sounded like fun, really, "Not 21, but I don't drink anyways. And I gotta be able to deal with situations where there's alcohol or other crap and say no, avoiding it forever won't exactly work realistically."
"All valid points," Clint acknowledged, shifting on the couch again to make his shoulder more comfortable. "And we totally don't have normal eyesight between the two of us." He chuckled at the thought. "There's not much of anything about any of us that'd be normal, no matter how you theoretically mix us up."
"Hey now! I'm.....almost normal. Sorta. No green skin or shooting laser beams or whatever!" And if he did have those, then he would just be more awesome, "But all you have is super eyes. I got the rest. When our powers combine..."
"We'll turn into a blue dude with green hair who fights for the well being of the earth?" Clint asked, half-laughing. "Hey - you remember Shelly? Haven't heard anything about her in years. She's the one who told me Captain Planet was blue. And hey, anyway, I've got some spatial awareness thing. And the never missing thing. I guess we would make a pretty awesome combined superhero."
Shelly. Now there was a name he hadn't thought of in a while, "No idea," Matt replied, "I guess she's what? 17 now? I got taken away by the cops and I don't think I ever saw her after that. Mr. Crocker didn't go on trial for abuse, I went on trial for assault, so....she wasn't there," because if he had, Matt would have been taken to testify. "After that...it's not like we were encouraged to keep in touch or anything at the group home," he was put in a group home instead of a foster family. No one wanted him because he was not only damaged, but a juvenile offender.
"Yeah, she's my age," Clint said, nodding. "Or close enough, anyway. It took them a little while to move us out of the house, though. She and I kept in touch for a while, but she sort of dropped off after a couple years. I didn't know if they let you talk to her or not after everything."
Matt shook his head, "Nothing," he replied, "I mean, in juvie I was mostly in solitary, except for school and stuff where I basically had my own guard," which wasn't because he was especially violent, but because being blind he wasn't allowed into the general population. "Makes me sound like a hardened criminal or something, but there were guys in there who had done a hell of a lot worse than anything I ever dreamed of."
"I believe it," Clint said, moving the ice pack from his shoulder back to his face. "But hey - you're out. I'm sure Crocker got his, in the end, even if the police were assholes about everything."
"I hope so," that hadn't been a great part of his life and he had worked hard to put it behind him and not repeat the same mistakes. "And now we're here and things are so much better. You've got your foster dads, I'm in college, you're about to graduate.... It all worked out for us."
"Yep," Clint said, voice slightly muffled. He wasn't so sure, though, about Shelly. He should ask his caseworker, see if he could get her contact information again. "Think I'll head back down to the suite, see if I can guilt Billy into ordering Chinese or something. Have fun at the party."
"Dude, be careful. Billy might make it all rutabaga or something," unless actual cash and take-out was involved. Then there was less likely to be a mishap. "I'll tell you all about the ridiculousness of it tomorrow."
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna let him wish for Chinese - with my luck, he'd wind up making it rain lo mien or something," Clint said, grinning behind the ice pack as he stood up. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, man."