( clint, too, hates the way everything is laid out in etraya. it's inconvenient in every which way except for the one that means clint is forced to keep up-to-date with almost every change to the city, simply by virtue of there being no other means of traversal.
(maybe he'll ask aurora for his skycycle one of these days, or else one of the motorbikes he used to own—.)
he's not doing much of anything when there's a knock at his door — in truth, he hadn't expected gorgug to come so soon, but logic dictates it's not bobbi (she wouldn't knock) and it's not kate (she might knock, but she'd also walk in immediately afterwards, making the process of knocking all but pointless). no, when the knock happens, clint is all but sprawled out on his sofa, mindlessly flicking between watching one of the movies repeated every day on his tv, and the network.
it's enough that he's startled when the knock occurs, enough that it takes him a moment to register than no-one's stepping inside and therefore, he needs to get up and answer the door. when he does, whatever he'd been expecting from gorgug, what he gets clearly isn't it.
surprise, clear and obvious and lightly questioning, sits in his expression, although it soon gives way to realisation. (oh, right—). it's not often clint has to look up at anyone, even if there are only a handful of inches in it, but it's the thing — aside from the green — that takes most of clint's immediate attention. )
Uh, hey. ( a breath of a pause. ) Gorgug, right? ( where gorgug is TEENAGER, clint embodies MID-THIRTIES. dishevelled, mussed blonde hair, a subtle air of TIRED accompanied by a lingering smell that suggests he drinks a lot of coffee; a t-shirt — purple — and a pair of cuffed cargo pants that suggest he's wearing them both for utility and comfort. he waves his hand, loose and dismissive, before turning to head back inside. )
C'mon in.
( the interior says that this wasn't something that aurora came up with on her own, says that this is probably clint's. (hence, perhaps, the 'H' above the door). it's an open-plan loft apartment, with walls that are a pale, pale lavender, a bow on the wall above the sofa, a couple of well-used targets in front of the windows (featuring, naturally, purple curtains).
on the kitchen island is a (purple) mug of half-finished coffee that clint gravitates towards, picking it up purely out of habit before turning back to gorgug. )
no subject
(maybe he'll ask aurora for his skycycle one of these days, or else one of the motorbikes he used to own—.)
he's not doing much of anything when there's a knock at his door — in truth, he hadn't expected gorgug to come so soon, but logic dictates it's not bobbi (she wouldn't knock) and it's not kate (she might knock, but she'd also walk in immediately afterwards, making the process of knocking all but pointless). no, when the knock happens, clint is all but sprawled out on his sofa, mindlessly flicking between watching one of the movies repeated every day on his tv, and the network.
it's enough that he's startled when the knock occurs, enough that it takes him a moment to register than no-one's stepping inside and therefore, he needs to get up and answer the door. when he does, whatever he'd been expecting from gorgug, what he gets clearly isn't it.
surprise, clear and obvious and lightly questioning, sits in his expression, although it soon gives way to realisation. (oh, right—). it's not often clint has to look up at anyone, even if there are only a handful of inches in it, but it's the thing — aside from the green — that takes most of clint's immediate attention. )
Uh, hey. ( a breath of a pause. ) Gorgug, right? ( where gorgug is TEENAGER, clint embodies MID-THIRTIES. dishevelled, mussed blonde hair, a subtle air of TIRED accompanied by a lingering smell that suggests he drinks a lot of coffee; a t-shirt — purple — and a pair of cuffed cargo pants that suggest he's wearing them both for utility and comfort. he waves his hand, loose and dismissive, before turning to head back inside. )
C'mon in.
( the interior says that this wasn't something that aurora came up with on her own, says that this is probably clint's. (hence, perhaps, the 'H' above the door). it's an open-plan loft apartment, with walls that are a pale, pale lavender, a bow on the wall above the sofa, a couple of well-used targets in front of the windows (featuring, naturally, purple curtains).
on the kitchen island is a (purple) mug of half-finished coffee that clint gravitates towards, picking it up purely out of habit before turning back to gorgug. )
Don't worry about shoes.