Clint is not Legolas (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} imnotlegolas) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} zfuturelogs,@ 2012-10-13 00:09:00 |
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What: Clint's brooding again.
Where: In Everett the vampire town.
When: Evening time!
Status: Complete/Open
Rating: TBD
It had been over two decades since he had lost everything that had mattered to him. When the vampires had decided to overrun and take over Everett Clint had done all he could to ensure that they failed. First by sniping them from a distance. High velocity moving bullets were very effective in making heads explode. When he had run out of ammunition for his Tac-50 he had gone in close quarters with his specialised arrows to help his partner. But when their position had been overrun he had forced her out. A task made easier by the mortal wound in his side. He had been ready to pull the pin on the thermite grenade and blow the room and building sky high but he'd been over taken before it could happen.
Then she had come along and changed him, forcing him to become a vampire. He had been ready to give up and die in the sun when he realized he could better help the survivors. So he played along with her plan, waiting for a chance to contact Natasha. But then the prison fell and there wasn't a trace of Natasha among the survivors. It had crushed him and it became an effort to keep his humanity on. He knew he could flip it off but he needed to feel the pain. To remind himself he wasn't a monster. Even if he was one.
Currently, the archer turned vampire sat at one of his favorite perches, one of the higher buildings, his feet over the side. He had a gun strapped to his left leg and his combat knife on his right. A bottle of Jewel of Russia Classic vodka was in his hand and half emptied already, the cap sitting nearby and fresh wax crumbs indicating it had just been opened. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took another long drink, staring off into the distance. Why he hadn't left Everett yet he didn't know. Perhaps because he didn't know where else to go or who would want him.