cognitived | mental link;

[ ???! ]

( Wha-- )

[ This is kinda weird, uhm, hello ???? After a maybe too long moment Clint simply sets aside the impression, sending back his own of a somewhat awkward shoulder pat. It's ok kid, get it out of your system. ]

( Pretty sure we're all a bit crazy here. )

[ Vaguely cheerful and not at all helpful, thanks Clint. ]

( Who were you trying to round up? )

Edited (html, my weakness) 2017-07-31 00:30 (UTC)

[A stuttering feeling. Like mental stammering. And a deliberate step back -- at least, as far as their brains are concerned.]

(Sorry.) [Get a hold of yourself.] (I don't... it was this or do it out loud.)

(... is it really so weird that people want to look out for others?)

[ Hey, no need to run away. There's a faint frown, but Clint doesn't let Shiro run far, the edge of his mind curling around the threads of their connection. A wordless no worries. ]

( Oh. )

[ A soft sigh, weary. ]

( I don't think most of the people here have ever had that, Shiro. Or at least,
something without strings. )

[He's not going far, regardless. The sense of sitting down, heavily. Of a face pressed into his own hands, now. Frustration coming off in waves.]

(I don't ... I mean, that, I get. But -- )

[Words slipping through his fingers. Breathe -- focus.]

(We're all on the same side here, Clint. Aren't we?)

[ Understanding all his own, followed by the warm weight of a hand upon a shoulder, steady. ]

( I'd like to think so. )

[ a pause, wry. ]

( Even if that side is just 'comin' out of this alive.' Doesn't mean everyone's goals are all gonna align, if that's what you mean though. )

(I'd settle for 'willing to play nice with others'.)

[That's... literally all he's asking for here. That's it. Just a willingness to work together. Maybe it would finish their mission faster. Maybe it would help.]

[The sense of leaning against that offered arm, tired, fatigue in every bone.]

[ Clint's mental impression shifts as Shiro leans against him, coiling softly around him. The faint sussurus of feather-wheat-smoke-nothing to see builds, offered. It's not enough to block them from the Nest, but it's...hazier, softer, a haven lapping at the edge of their joined minds. Privacy, at it's very core.

The obfuscation of shadow bent to will, if Shiro wants it. ]

( Sketching out teams might help. )

[ If only to sort of corral the majority. It's like herding cats, and Clint hasn't really missed SHIELD's hierarchy since the HYDRA reveal. But it certainly made things easier to move actual Agents. ]

[The gratitude in his thoughts is like a wave. He's sinking into the offered blind like a sore and battered soldier into hot water, with jets. Blowing out a breath physically and mentally. He trusts this mind holding steady while he sags. Just like he did before.]

[Even if this is only frustration, instead of agony.]

(Maybe.) [He shakes his head, and runs a hand down his face.] (I guess it just seemed like we were all supposed to be on the same side, once we woke up here.)

(One common enemy, one force to fight it, all of that...) [However many lights in the darkness, a handful of stars in the night.] (But everyone keeps acting on their own more than trying to do things together.)

[I don't understand.]

[ It’s easy to shore up the shields, feathers rustling and shadow twisting, until the Nest feels like nothing so much as background noise. Easily offered here and now, as Shiro’s shoulders bow and his breath heaves out of him. Gratitude all his own kindles at the trust welling up in Shiro’s mind, the vulnerability he’s showing when Clint knows how difficult his broodmate finds it.

Nothing he ever expected, and everything he’d give to protect. ]

( Easier when it's one person you're up against, harder when it's a vague mess like this. )

[ A sigh, mouth twisting. ]

[He sinks into it, gratefully, tiredly. It's not someone he needs to constantly stay strong for. Not someone who constantly asks the world of him. Needs the world of him. So it's easier than with someone else. Just to lean into the offered shoulder.]

[Up against the older man.]

(I'd even take an army.)

[Amazing, how wistful you can make that sound.]

[ It's good to be able to offer this, really. Clint thrives off of being useful, after all. Of being the harbor in a storm, a breath in and a breath out. No need for Shiro to worry over staying strong in Clint's presence, not when he's never wanted or needed to lay more burdens down on his shoulders. Wordless, formless, rest. No need to worry here, now, not when Clint can be the look out. ]

( Absence makes the heart grow fonder? )

[ Wry, so very wry. But still, the impression of an arm over Shiro's shoulders, fondly ruffling his hair. ]

[There is a definite impression of hey at the hand fluffing his hair around. Excuse you, Clint, he works very hard on that look. So much dish soap involved.]

[But it's funny. How this makes his eyes droop. His head lean forward on his chest. Like he's letting something go.]

(Hilarious. You should go for stand up comedy.)

[ Don't take yourself too seriously, kid. There's a definitely smug impression, but okay, okay. Nothing but Clint's mind, fractal edges smoothed by shadow, by something soft and comfortable. Wordless, formless, it's ok in the way their minds curl together.

That's it, let it go. ]

( I'll save you a front row seat. )

[ Laughter, softly teasing. ]

["Don't take yourself too seriously" is like trying to tell him to take a nap. Nine and a half times out of ten, it won't work. But this time feels different. This time, he's starting to nod off. Just by virtue of someone being there and accepting what he's trying to say.]

[There's no fight.]

[Not here.] (Good. Wouldn't want to miss it.)

[Boy you're going to go the fuck to sleep aren't you.]

[ Well, Clint's got no problem with being an exception to the rule. If anything, he draws Shiro further under the feather-shadow-protection curl of his mind. Acceptance of Shiro, of the moment, written in easy, unthinking thought. This isn't lullabies and cradling arms, like putting his kids to sleep. Nor is it the silent, unmoving sentinel with first watch. It is, instead, something of both -- the faint, here and gone impression fingers carding through hair, the steadfast notion of I'm here, you're safe, you can rest.

No verbal answer, simply the quiet, certain ushering of another toward sleep. ]

[Usually, he's the one to do this. The one to be firm and strong, to stand guard for everyone else. Being vulnerable like this for someone else... around someone else... it's new. Even with Sam. This is like something he'd never had. Something he'd lost before he even found it.]

[And so he sinks into it. Gratitude etched in every bone like lightning flowers.]

(Thank you... Clint.)

[ Funny when you find yourself in another's shoes, huh? Return the favor later kiddo -- though Clint certainly doesn't think of it as a favor all told. Vulnerability scooped up and held close, shielded from the rest of the world. Familiar, in a way.

So the gratitude sparks and gleams, thrumming through flesh and blood and bone, and Clint simply curls Shiro's mind closer. ]

( You got it, Shiro. )

[ He doesn't even bother playing at gruff, it's all fond now. He waits, patient and soothing, until he can feel the edge of sleep sweeping over, starlit, and he keeps watch, the feather-shadow-nothing to see here curling of his mind keeping Shiro's mind shrouded from the rest. ]

PRACTICAL if we're gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.	RESILIENT do you know what it's like to be unmade?
SKILLED if i miss, it means im just another dude with a bow.	DETERMINED this is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.

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