smartass_captain | Iowa Bros in Space! The Spacening. Starring James T Kirk and Clinton Barton

Fighting with Verity had done something for Jim despite all the vitriolic feeling swimming around his system. It had made him determined to go home. It wasn't as though he couldn't anymore. He knew exactly where the doorway leading back to the Enterprise stood. It was just...making himself open the door. Jim stands in the long hallway lined with doors to other worlds, staring intently at the 'Caution: Radiation risk' etched into the glass of his world's door. Shaking fingers reached for it, to push it open. Retracted.

He couldn't do this. No, bullshit. He was Jim Kirk, he could open a stupid door. Just. Not at the moment. Apparently. Jim shouts a string of fluent Orion curses at the door before stalking back off into the Nexus. To the plain door with the sideways 8 on it that leads to CLint's world. He pulls up a chair and waits. Clint would come sooner or later. He'd ask him to come with. Been meaning to show him around the ship anyway, might as well do it now.

Why couldn't his time have comms anyway? Jim smacks the back of his head against the wall while he waits, idly replaying the argument between himself and Verity in his head. What better way to kill time than to hate yourself?

Current Mood: depressed

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From:

aw_hawkguy

"Oh, now it's time for moves?" asks a suddenly much-less-drunk, much-less-folksy Clint, straightening up and nudging the Naussicans crowding him to give him some space. "Awright, let's make some moves."

You haven't truly lived, until you've watched Clint Barton and Steve Rogers play a few rounds of pool. There are balls cued so they jump over one another, or with a lateral spin that makes them change direction midway, and that's before discussing the obligatory outside-the-table ricochets. The Clint Barton A-game is a thing of beauty, and it is on.

Hope Naussicans aren't sore losers.

Edited Date: 2015-09-16 03:16 am (UTC)

From:

nexus_npcs

Nausicaans aren't sore losers. They are the SOREST losers. The better Clint does, the more unhappy noises they're making. They're so unhappy one of them is glaring at Jim now.

The Andorians are starting to catch on to the fact that something is going very wrong here. This hustle isn't turning out the way they were expecting and Jim is just confusing them.

So basically nobody's happy, except those ladies around the corner who are anticipating a brawl.

From:

smartass_captain

Honestly, this is poetry in motion. Jim actually moves out of the way so said ladies in the corner can see some of the magic he is making that table do. Clint is doing so well that Jim has shut up completely. He just has no words that can make this moment any more amazing than it already is.

Until he picks out a few swears in Andorian he knows he didn't utter breathlessly through his gaping craw. His would have been reverent and slightly aroused. These just sound angry.

Aw, plan, no. Jim licks at his bottom lip and sighs, finishing his last drink in one solid slam. Might as well enjoy it now, because he's pretty sure this is gonna get physical in a few.

Philistines.

They should be worshiping Barton's feet instead of getting mad. How do you get angry at this?! It's beautiful.

From:

aw_hawkguy

Clint straightens up from his last shot with an easy, confident smile--and yeah, a little bit of the old down-home charm. "I'm pretty sure that's game. It was nice havin' you fellas as an audience, I gotta say." Okay, maybe the charm is subjective. "So, karaoke, huh?"

He's keeping the dom jot cue loose in one hand, in case trouble starts.

From:

nexus_npcs

That's the game all right. Time to play a new one.

The Nausicaans go first: the one with the knife decides it's time to bring that out for introductions, preferably to Clint's soft and tender bits. The other one grabs a second cue and aims for Clint's dumb head.

The Andorians don't have such high initiative scores, but what they lack in sheer pig-headedness they make up for with ~~doodleboppers~~ finesse. "It is such a shame," the one Jim's been making eyes at remarks as they close in on him, "that you and your friend have had such a bad time tonight."

From:

smartass_captain

"Aw, man." They had to go and try to fight Clint. Jim shakes his head. Princess gets a bit of an apologetic look and shrug of Jim's shoulders. "Gonna have to put a rain check on that strip show."

He looks like he's about to bolt. Until he kicks the table over at them and jumps on the back of the second Nausicaan to try and throttle him with his own cue stick.

"Settle. Down! We didn't even pick your song yet!" Yes, yes Jim is still enjoying this, playing rodeo on the back of an angry alien in a dive bar.

From:

aw_hawkguy

"Aw, man, I coulda showed you guys a magic trick." Because Clint sure doesn't know how to deal with knives. He steps back from the first couple swipes, before darting in to catch the Nausicaan's (thank you) wrist, throwing a quick jab at its jaw as he tries to pin the knife hand on the dom jot table. "But no, now I gotta knock your dumb self out. I hope they don't have concussions in space."

From:

nexus_npcs

Punching a Nausicaan in the face is a bad idea. Let's just get that on the table right now. It an go next to the knife, which yes, has been dropped. That doesn't make the fella any happier. How's Clint's shirt going to hold up to being used as a handle to pick him up and throw him across the dom-jot table?

Jim, meanwhile. Oh Jim. There are safer ways to have a good time, and all those bruises are not going to be sexy tomorrow. When he can't be shaken off, the Nausicaan decides to put Jim through a table with the Nausicaan on top for good measure.

Between the table-tossing and the Nausicaan rodeo, the Andorians are going to wait this round out.

From:

smartass_captain

Lies. Jim Kirk would be sexy if his legs were on the other side of the room. It's just harder to pull off.

There's a decidedly country sort of whooping laugh Jim gives right up until the moment when he's screaming expletives and gasping for air. That...could have gone better.

Okay. Ow. Jim fumbles around, grabbing on a splintered piece of wood and jamming it toward the first not-plated thing he can see.

Edited Date: 2015-09-16 05:04 am (UTC)

From:

aw_hawkguy

Clint goes over the table with an exclamation of surprise, but he's on his feet again in a moment, and he brought some colorful dom jot balls with him--juggling, while the table is between him and his assailant. "It's not too late for that magic trick, ya know. Or juggling, you like juggling?"

He chuckles. "Can you believe there's a whole team'a guys who do juggling-related crimes?"

From:

nexus_npcs

That's a good plan, Jim. The first non-plated thing Jim sees is definitely vulnerable to the attack, but unfortunately, is Bar Patron Alien #17 who is not appearing in this icon set. He'd been trying to close a deal with the other people sitting at that table Jim just got put through, and now all three of them are jumping into the fight.

They're not on Jim's side.

Clint's attempt at distraction might work back home, but Nausicaans aren't easily distracted, and those Andorians he forgot about sense an opening. How well can he juggle while being punched in the face?

Meanwhile there's an offshoot of the fight starting on the other side of the room while some people decide it's a great chance to blow off some steam and settle some debts.

Good job, boys.

From:

smartass_captain

"Aw come on!" Jim rolls to the side, trying to dodge the onslaught of broken bottles and kicks being peppered on top of him. Where the hell did that other Nausicaan even go? Where was Clint, for that matter?

Oh hell, the big guy just about shattered Jim's ribs with one swift stomp. That..that can't happen again. Jim coughs heavily and lashes out, kicking at the alien's knees in a desperate attempt to throw it off balance. He does not expect it to cry out and fall on top of him.

"Aw come on!"

Upside? He's somewhat hidden from view for the moment.

From:

aw_hawkguy

Like most people, Clint Barton cannot juggle while being punched in the face. Clint is better than most, however, at taking a punch and giving it back. While he's dropped the dom jot balls without getting to throw one at anyone, he can't help but notice that these not-Kree guys come with really convenient handholds on their heads. Coming back from the reel that first punch sent him on, he grabs hold of one and punches the face under it.

"Doesn't anyone appreciate a good show?"

From:

nexus_npcs

Nobody appreciates a man who brings juggling to a bar brawl, Clint. Nobody.

But be of good cheer! Since Jim's hidden under a couple of aliens, he's no longer absorbing most of the blows being rained down in his direction. Bad news is, he's got two angry aliens wrestling on top of him now and not in the fun way.

Also good news! Those doodleboppers are fucking sensitive and the Andorian does not appreciate having one grabbed like that. Bad news is, he and his friend are really pissed off that Jim's strip tease has been canceled and they're taking it out on Clint.

There's a great deal of debris flying around from the other parts of the fight as well, and the occasional body.

From:

smartass_captain

Jim would think it's funny. But Jim is inconveniently being used as a wrestling mat and sadly unable to enjoy said show. There's a grunt of pain as he frees a leg and kicks the smaller of said wrestling aliens into the other, sending them decidedly off of him. Let them sort it out. He's got a fight to finish.

The room is kind of spinning and the lights are leaving this really cool after affect and that is probably not a good sign. Abandoned cue is a good omen and is scooped up readily.

"I'm sorry Princess." Jim claps the not-grabbed Andorian and whirls him around, bringing the stick around and across his blue face hard enough to send knock him on his ass. Oh. Shit. There's the other Nausicaan. Jim barely registers this before he is tackled.

"Barton!" Jim yells out above the clamor. "You know how I said 'you don't need the bow'? Next time remind me of this!" Because being clever takes precedence to asking for help.

From:

aw_hawkguy

"Next time, I pick the bar," Clint calls back, shoving his doodlebopper-kree toward that other melee and turning to help Jim. Scooping up one of the dom jot balls, he pitches for the Nausicaan's ear and follows it up with a diving tackle.

From:

nexus_npcs

The wrestling will continue in the remains of the table Jim is vacating. It's very much a spectator sport and those ladies around the corner are finally interested. Yay Jim?

One Andorian is on his ass with a broken nose, the other got shoved into the wrestling match. Now would be a good time to make an escape oh look now everybody's getting tackled. The Nausicaan is thrilled. It's like Christmas and his birthday all at once. It's like sex and chocolate at the same time. It's... likely to come with a really large bill from the bar's owner because there goes the dom-jot table. And now there's balls rolling across the floor to add to the fun.

Let's get some banana peels up in here.

From:

smartass_captain

The ladies are watching and Jim's not able to appreciate it? This. Means. War.

When JIm idly toyed with the idea of someone being on top of him tonight it did not in any way include a drunk blood crazy humanoid trying to choke the life out of him with Clint goddamned Barton on top of the pile slamming a dom jot ball into said humanoid's head repeatedly.

There's actually not a whole lot JIm can do from this position until that grip lessens in any way. And the moment Clint's distraction/blunt force trauma does work, Jim's going to headbutt this asshole in the fucking face.

From:

aw_hawkguy

Well, Clint's on the Nausicaan, but he doesn't seem to have knocked him off of Jim the way the Avenger had been hoping. He wraps an arm around the alien's throat, the way that would be a safe sleeper hold on a human (forearm and bicep squeezing the carotids on both sides, with the trachea protected from accidental crushing in the hollow of the elbow), and heaves back with all his might. In thirty seconds, the alien might be unconscious, or indifferent to the tiny hoo-man clinging to its neck, but Clint wants the guy off of Jim, now.

From:

nexus_npcs

Even Nausicaans need their brains working, hard as that might be to believe. The one Clint is focused on is going down for the count... slowly.

But guess who's back, back again? Princess and Captain Doodlebopper! They have some fists they want to introduce to Jim just as soon as Clint and the Nausicaan have stepped aside.

From:

smartass_captain

Jim wheezes, gasping for air when those sausage fingers are no longer latched on to his throat. There was no safety from crushing trachea in that guy's grip, and not for the first time Jim wonders who the hell started spinning the bar because he does not appreciate it one bit.

A sock straight across his jaw wakes him the hell up though. His ever chapped lip is now split wide open and hurray, It's been almost a week since Jim tasted his own blood. Thanks guys! He has to get a sample very often to make sure he is indeed still alive.

"...Man, fuck this." It has reached the point of not being fun anymore. Jim's not laughing, Clint's not laughing, the bar is wrecked. No one is having a good time. Not even the Nausicaan. You have to be awake to be having fun.

He spits blood into one of the two's faces before lunging back into the fray, eager to knock at least one of these blue bastards out as fast as possible. Mostly with his fists. He has a mean swing.

From:

aw_hawkguy

If the Nausicaan is down, then that means Clint is back up, and with a dom jot ball in each hand, that means trouble right here in Rapid City, that starts with T, which rhymes with P, that stands for Pinpoint Accuracy. Clint's got strong arms for a normal, and while his fastball special doesn't throw wolverines at people, it's still going to cost the Andorian Jim isn't fighting some teeth. So who wants the other one?

From:

nexus_npcs

Nobody wants a dom-jot ball to the face, Clint. That's like the fruitcake of bar fights.

One Nausicaan is still down, the other is still tussling with half the bar over thataway, and the ladies are having a marvelous time because the bartender has been dragged into the fight (over the bar) and they've decided to help themselves to some of the top-shelf drinks.

The Andorians aren't having any fun either, if that's any consolation. This night has gone very badly for them and it's only their alien machismo that keeps them in the fight. That and the deeply-felt need to take out some of the frustrations Jim has aroused on him since the softer types of doing this are out of the question now. They won't be standing much longer at this point.

From:

smartass_captain

Dom jot balls are heavier than they look. Two fastball pitches are probably enough to knock Princess' friend there out for the count. The other one is underneath Jim getting slammed into the floor and not in the way he had intended. Sorry Princess.

Jim scrambles back as soon as he's reasonably sure no one's going to fucking tackle him again, spins around to look at the bar, and grabs Clint by the shoulder.

"Move. Before that side notices us." He hops over a bunch of debris, jumps onto the bar and skids over it. Grabs a bottle of aged bourbon (bribery) and some top shelf vodka (to pour the ladies a drink because of course), throws a wink at the ladies before taking the hell off to catch up with Clint outside.

The sky is still really purple and everything is really pretty but it's spinning out here too and Jim is getting them out of here. He flips open his comm and is relieved by the chirping sound he gets in return.

"Ensign Hemmet, I have two for beam up. Kirk out."

Please don't come running out of the bar after them please don't. Or at least, come running out of the bar slow enough for them to beam back onto the ship because holy hell.

From:

aw_hawkguy

Clint keeps a lookout for pursuit while Jim catches up, groaning, "man, I gotta get better at goin' to bars without wreckin' 'em up. They're gonna put me on a list or somethin'."