@vdova ; video

[waytodie]

[Her hair is in two messy twin braids. Her eyes are glassy. The sharp-eyed might notice she's probably, definitely drunk. The less-so might just assume she's overly tired. Her tongue presses into her cheek as she considers how to start this one, but in the end she just rips the bandaid off quickly: ]

So, tell me, how is it that you handle grief?

[She probably won't be elaborating on why she's asking, unless she has a certain level of familiarity with you, but you can try. People closest to her probably already know what this is really about: Her sister is gone. From Moorecroft. From Etraya. From the top side of the dirt. Gone and back to dead, and Yelena is spiraling.]

Comments

[waytodie]

No, sorry- I didn't mean... [She stares up at the ceiling for a moment and gives a long sigh.] Just that you weren't... her Clint.

[A beat.

And she can't help it. Jokes are definitely a coping mechanism.]

Which also means you are not the Clint Barton I tried to kill. So you have that going for you.

[westcoasts]

( the last remark earns an exhale of breath that's almost a laugh, and— ) D'you know how many people have tried to kill me? ( it's a better response, probably, than "yeah, well, I've died before and it wasn't very interesting". ) Doesn't make you special, Yelena.

But I wasn't. You're not wrong.

i, too, would edit a typo that I noticed hours later, for on thread rereads it would Haunt Me™

[waytodie]

[She squints at him.] But did they do it at Christmastime? I think that makes it a little special.

[It's hard to keep up the very assassin-flavored teasing though. She's still carrying such a heavy heart. She props her chin in her hand and softly, seriously, she asks: ]

Does it get easier?

[Not better, because she can't picture a world without her sister ever being better.]

handshake emoji

[westcoasts]

—Uh, yeah. Some of 'em, actually. It was pretty shitty.

( he doesn't elaborate beyond that — not the time, not the place, particularly given yelena goes back to the more pressing topic. it earns a silence and he presses his lips into a line that implies 'no'. )

Not really. You just get better at living with it. More used to the hole it's left in your life. Some people might call it 'easier', but it's not like you ever stop missing them, y'know?

[waytodie]

You could have lied to me. [She says it flatly, but it's somehow still a half-hearted joke, too.

The look on his face at that question feels like it says all she needs to know, but he elaborates anyway, and she appreciates it.]

But... time, right? That is the only thing that makes it hurt less. [She sighs softly.] I am so bad at waiting. [Not her truest statement, she's done plenty of waiting on plenty of occasions, this is just a thing she's rather impatient about getting through, if only so she stops feeling like there is such a weight in the center of her chest.]

TRULY the universal cat parent experience

[westcoasts]

Yeah, patience's never been my strong suit either. ( it's wry and self-aware. in any other circumstance, there'd be more of a joke there, but for now, it just sits as what it is. ) Only thing you can do in the meantime is distract yourself.

brats (affectionate), the lot of them!

[waytodie]

With copious amounts of alcohol. [She says with a slight nod. It's necessary to numb things out enough to deal, at least right now. At least today.]

[westcoasts]

( been there, done that — clint barton. )

Remember to put tylenol and water by your bed. ( a beat. ) Or sofa.

[waytodie]

[She smirks a little and can't help the slight roll of her eyes and the sarcastic– ]

Thanks, Dad.

[westcoasts]

( the way clint's expression shifts, immediately and entirely involuntarily at that suggests emotions of NGH (it's totally an emotion—) and NO THANK YOU. then, a moment after that— )

Look, it's not often I'm the adult in the room.

[waytodie]

[The look on his face says so much, and she can't help the laugh it causes. And damn, that kind of feels good right now, you know?]

You're doing pretty good at it right now, I think.

[westcoasts]

( it doesn't quite get a laugh, but it does get a grin, quick and relaxed. )

I want to take that as a compliment, but I think it says more about you than it does me.

[waytodie]

I think it means you're old.

[Ah, yes. This. Feels much better than being a sad sack of emotions.]

[westcoasts]

What? ( that, right there, the way clint's expression shifts from wide-eyed surprise to knitted eyebrows, sharp downwards curve of his mouth, is indignation. ) Who are you calling old?

( that is very fucking rude, thank you. )

We're, like, the same age.

( at a guess. )

[waytodie]

Do you even know how old I am? [Trick question: She doesn’t know how to count her age anymore, either, after The Snap.]

[westcoasts]

( a lingering pause because that is a trick question. no, he doesn't, and he's not going to say how old he thinks she looks because that's an invitation for trouble, so— )

You don't know how old I am either.

[waytodie]

[She squints, like she’s assessing him through the video now. But in the end she shrugs.]

Fair enough, but for the record I’d ping you at least thirty-four.

[How he has managed to completely derail her sad girl hours, she isn’t sure, but she is SO glad he has.]

[westcoasts]

( FUCK.

the careful, flat look he gives her says she's on the money. it lasts for a count of three, and then he looks to one side and waves his hand. )

Yeah, well, I ain't guessin' how old you are.

[waytodie]

Was I right? [She throws her head back in a laugh and goddamn it feels good to do that right now.] ohmygod that is so funny. I am very good at this, apparently.

Joke’s on you, I don’t even know how old I am anymore. I lost five years when half the world disappeared and I don’t know if I am supposed to count them or not since I did not actually live them.

[She hasn’t really talked about The Snap, but… this is an easier way to do it, maybe. Process by way of snark?]

[westcoasts]

I technically had my birthday here, so—. ( yeah. yeah.

she's right. )

If you didn't live it, you didn't age. At least, that's how I figure it.

[waytodie]

Happy belated old man day. [She grins.]

I like the way you think.

[westcoasts]

( he makes a noise, a grumbled 'pah!' at the (another) 'old man' comment that implies displeasure but it's clear he's not actually that bothered by it.

but even so— ) You keep calling me 'old man', and I'm gonna change my mind and reassign those missing years to you.

So how old are you?

[waytodie]

[She snorts a soft laugh. Oh, he has marked himself as SO fun to mess with. A mistake on his part he will probably live to regret.]

Thirty-three. [Which just makes her grin wider, because she's barely younger than him anyway, despite giving him hell about it.]

[westcoasts]

( it's two years, if he's honest. he hasn't clarified that 'thirty four' and 'thirty five' are not, actually, the same thing, but given it wasn't almost his birthday back home, he thinks he can get away with not actually being thirty five.

like a little birthday gift to himself. )

Ohhh, I get it. ( careful, pointed, deliberate. ) You're a hypocrite, is what you're saying.

[waytodie]

[The narration would like to point out: he gave her a technicality to run with, so HE should get to use one, TOO.

She lifts a hand and pinches her fingers close together.]

Little bit.