smartass_captain | Some days, a man just can't catch a break. [Open, tagging Clint and Verity]

New York circa 2013 isn't such a bad place, Jim has decided. There's so much to take in and watch that he's certain he could be kept busy for months on end just trying to learn everything he could. Clint had explained currency to him today--Jim knew what it was, just not how it all divvied up. He'd done a bit of research on a clunky old machine Clint had told him the name of and Jim had subsequently forgotten. Some kind of ancient PADD device on an obsolete web browser.

Some girl had shown up hassling Clint about something or another a while ago, and the archer had assured Jim he wouldn't be gone long and left. She was too young for Jim to pay much attention to, and Clint didn't need Jim tagging along for every babysitting job he ended up getting drug off to. Or it was a neighbor asking him about a leak in their ceiling, in which case Jim was just a jerk.

Wooden stairs creaked in protest when Jim finally left the apartment building, being careful to lock up with the spare key he'd gotten from Clint that was stowed safely in the pocket of his purple sweatshirt he was borrowing. Eggs again for the third day in a row didn't seem appealing, and Clint had given him a bit of money, so Jim is heading down to the corner to grab a bite of whatever awesome smelling food was being sold by the vendor he'd been watching from the window for three days now.

"Bro, look! At the corner by the falafel stand bro!"

There, at the corner, was a scruffy short haired blond in a purple sweatshirt and sweatpants, fumbling in his pocket for the correct change to pay for his order. Truly, an easier target would never happen. He didn't even look like he'd had his morning coffee yet. (Jim hadn't). The next thing Jim knows, his delicious smelling food is strewn on the street as a couple thugs in tracksuits drag Jim off into an alley trying to beat the shit out of him.

"What the hell?!" That was his breakfast, assholes!

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"What, you'd rather he had left his family to the same fate as the mutants, or Spider-Man? He's trying to protect them, and doing a damn good job of it. We should all be so lucky." Okay yeah, so she's a little jealous. Also trying to decide if she's relieved or pissed they missed the important part.

"No, that was just old," she offers by way of reassurance about the food.

"I can see through illusions, which includes surface-level shapeshifting." And still nobody at SHIELD thought she was useful. Idiots.

Rather than ask 'what' or 'who' for the millionth time since he got here, Jim opts to shrug his shoulders noncommittally. He knows that it's to be expected what with him only just getting to this strange new place, but he's starting to wonder just how different this world is from his own.

"All I know is, he was rude to you, and especially Verity." It was enough for Jim to make his judgment. It would have to do in way of an explanation. More interesting subjects have just popped up however. Jim's eyebrow shoots up and he leans forward slightly.

"What is that even like? Does it not look like meat to you? I mean, what should it look like sans shapeshifting?"

"I'm pretty sure he thinks he's too smart for manners," Clint concludes, tying off the bag of ex-food. That's going to be going out in a hurry.

"I don't think you want to know what it looks like," she points out. "It looks like... meat. Just not beef."

"It can be weird seeing through things, like when I meet someone who's had plastic surgery it's hard not to stare at first. Or... when you look at my hair, you just see the purple, right? I see the purple and the red at the same time."

Edited 2015-08-19 22:50 (UTC)

"Don't you get sick of people talking down like they're better than you?" JIm knows how that feels, and man. He sympathizes. But he's not getting closer to clap Clint on the shoulder because he's busy dealing with the ex-food Jim has no interest in seeing or smelling more than necessary.

"Dear god, you see a cut up face under-imposed on their current face? That is so bizarre." Jim shudders slightly, before making a sort of low noise. "So...d'you see me like a corpse or something?" It's the first time he's brought it up conversationally like this. His voice has gone all quiet.

"Only every day. Seeing both colors sounds kinda pretty," Clint muses, just before he steps out. "Probably not worth the other stuff."

He'll be back soon, it's not that long a trip to the dumpster.

Edited 2015-08-20 01:03 (UTC)

Verity's quiet for a minute, because being treated like a freak hurts. But then she gives Clint a little smile he's going to miss, finishes up what she's doing, shoving the other bag into the fridge and shutting it firmly before she walks over to Jim. "No. I only see you. Alive. Because that's what you are."

That look she's giving him is intense. She can't possibly be lying.

"...Heh." Jim watches the door shut and hears Clint heading for the stairs. A strange place, with strange people, and here he was--the strangest of all. Jim felt a migraine coming on. He leans against the doorframe, careful of the arm that's bandaged because of the burns. "You deserve so much better, y'know that?"

They both do, Clint and Verity. Jim knows there's nothing he can do and that is a powerfully disheartening feeling.

"For what it's worth, despite, y'know...everything. I think you're pretty great." He's telling the truth, too. "Thanks for bringing food over. Sorry it ended up..." Gestures and trailing off.

"Thanks." She doesn't believe that. She's pretty sure she's the worst thing ever. But they're not talking about her. It's a long and painful subject and she is certain neither of them would speak to her again if they knew.

Between the three of them maybe they can cobble together one functional sense of self-worth. Not too big, not too small; just right. But then they'd have to share it and that would be awkward.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm just glad someone finally believes me about it. And it's not like the pastries have been ruined. You look tired, do you want to lie down for a while?"

"Promise you won't take it the wrong way?" Jim will go quiet and watch Verity until she nods or gives him really any form of a response. It makes the silence stretch out longer than it probably should, but Jim could care less.

"I just...I want to go home. You guys are great, but I don't belong. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't have any money. All I'm good for is bumming off of a guy who's already shit on more than he deserves, and forcing you to play nurse when you've clearly got your own stuff going on. Even if I..." Got attached. Got close. Not that he would. Nobody wants to get to know Jim Kirk. They only think they do.

"I still...wouldn't belong."

She nods her agreement without hesitation. But when he's done talking, she gives a little shake of her head.

"Of course you want to go home. I don't blame you for that, and neither would Clint. But let's be clear: nobody's forcing me to do anything, and you aren't putting me out. I'm sorry I can't do more to help you find your way home, but we'll find a way. I'm sure of it."

"...Yeah, sorry." He's only agreeing with her to change the subject, but surely Verity doesn't even need her powers to know that. He smiles a bit again, and while it doesn't quite reach his eyes, at least it's not fake. He's really trying.

"When I figure it out, I'll take you guys there. Head to a bar even. My treat. A few Cardassian Sunrises and you guys'll never want to leave." Jim snorts, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back slightly. "I'm gonna head back to the Nexus, I think. Try and find a way home. Tell Clint for me when he gets back?"

Yeah, Jim's got one hell of a headache coming, but he's used to working through those. He wants to do something other than sit around feeling sorry for himself. He owes it to Clint and Verity to do something.

There's a brief disapproving look, but she doesn't say anything about the little lie. She knows that game.

The idea of getting to see space gets a smile from her. Just to see the stars from a new perspective would make her happy. So of course he can't let her enjoy the idea for long. "If you're sure that's a good idea..." which she isn't. "Yeah, I'll tell him. Just promise you'll be careful?"

"Hey. Verity." Jim had turned around toward the door, but he looks back over his shoulder toward her and smiles a bit more.

"I promise." Okay, wow. Occasionally Jim Kirk can be a decent guy. Charming, even. "I'll take you both there. And I'll be careful." It might be playing dirty to unload the full Jim Kirk LookTM on Verity all of a sudden like that, but it gets him the time he needs to hold a hand up in a wave and disappear out the door with a little click of the door after him.

Then it's down toward the far end of the hall, to the door with the sideways '8' on it, and back into the Nexus proper.

Clint, delayed by the need to reassure tenants about the recent visit from the police, is only now getting back. "Okay, sorry that took so long."

Some days, a man just can't catch a break. [Open, tagging Clint and Verity]

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