That wasn't fair. He can continue to carry himself like a proud meat shield because he at least knew he was a willing barrier between the crowd and the spooked guy. He doesn't particularly find the swarm enchanting, and in fact the group of citizens pushing to get to say their rehearsed lines of admiration to their television favorites was about as enchanting as jungle rot before an amputation. But he wasn't a stranger to crowds or pushing, and the words of admiration and stupidity were new but easy to tune out if only he kept the thoughts in his head louder than what was around. The headache was rising and it just wasn't fair, though. That he wasn't freaking out as badly as Guy, and he did at least have the courtesy and sense to feel enough sympathy for Guy to crowd in closer and swat away a hand or two, didn't mean that he enjoyed the foolish spectacle. So why was he stuck with policing duty? Mindy had proven herself the veteran of the group, why didn't she step up?
Because the crowd was getting rowdy- too rowdy- and the mindless praises of the drones were getting under his skin. The crowd wouldn't budge when he stepped forward, attempting to part them. Because the loose grin was turning tight and he felt himself recoiling at some remarks and wanting to tell them to shove that potato up their ass, down their throat, anywhere it would fit and get lost. He wanted to tell them to drill a hole in it and fuck it then give it a ring, if they loved it so much. He would have, too, but right after he catches sight of Mindy's silent plea and he steps back and bumps into who he thought was Guy and he realizes he bumped into a woman, instead, he stomps his foot on the ground and booms, "I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror," like some mad performer. Which, in fact, he was. And seeing that he gets the crowd to hush for a full second and that managed to command all eyes on him
hell, why not?
Hawkeye turns, a jerky movement, so he faces his two pals and the half of the crowd he had had his back turned to. "Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error-" and he lifts his hands and the lady who had had her hands on Guy clasps them on him again, giddily, obviously delighted at the prospect of a show. Well- screw her, Hawkeye figured, because she was frightening his caveman and further crowding him in turn. It was an act of faith, really, when he swept his hand over her head, snatched the wig and placed it hastily on his own head in all its shimmering violet glory, leaving the woman shrieking and with an embarrassing cut showing, and shouted "So old and white as this! 'tis foul."
And the crowd erupted in laughter at her misfortune. The woman couldn't seem to make up her mind if she wanted to run or stay and fight but she at least wouldn't have her mind on Guy's muscles again any time soon. And Hawkeye didn't quite look like he wanted to stop and he even adjusts the wig, his prize, so it stays better. But no, he's not grinning. He kind of wants to. "So keep your grubby hands offa us!" He roared, the intimidating tall man in the purple glittery fairy wig. "We have diseases you've never heard of! Do you know how long it's been since my last hydrophobtoncer shot? Years!" And with that emphasis, no one would say he wasn't at least mad, and present company may just be infected. The crowd, almost as one, steps back with alarmed murmurs.
no subject
Because the crowd was getting rowdy- too rowdy- and the mindless praises of the drones were getting under his skin. The crowd wouldn't budge when he stepped forward, attempting to part them. Because the loose grin was turning tight and he felt himself recoiling at some remarks and wanting to tell them to shove that potato up their ass, down their throat, anywhere it would fit and get lost. He wanted to tell them to drill a hole in it and fuck it then give it a ring, if they loved it so much. He would have, too, but right after he catches sight of Mindy's silent plea and he steps back and bumps into who he thought was Guy and he realizes he bumped into a woman, instead, he stomps his foot on the ground and booms, "I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror," like some mad performer. Which, in fact, he was. And seeing that he gets the crowd to hush for a full second and that managed to command all eyes on him
hell, why not?
Hawkeye turns, a jerky movement, so he faces his two pals and the half of the crowd he had had his back turned to. "Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error-" and he lifts his hands and the lady who had had her hands on Guy clasps them on him again, giddily, obviously delighted at the prospect of a show. Well- screw her, Hawkeye figured, because she was frightening his caveman and further crowding him in turn. It was an act of faith, really, when he swept his hand over her head, snatched the wig and placed it hastily on his own head in all its shimmering violet glory, leaving the woman shrieking and with an embarrassing cut showing, and shouted "So old and white as this! 'tis foul."
And the crowd erupted in laughter at her misfortune. The woman couldn't seem to make up her mind if she wanted to run or stay and fight but she at least wouldn't have her mind on Guy's muscles again any time soon. And Hawkeye didn't quite look like he wanted to stop and he even adjusts the wig, his prize, so it stays better. But no, he's not grinning. He kind of wants to. "So keep your grubby hands offa us!" He roared, the intimidating tall man in the purple glittery fairy wig. "We have diseases you've never heard of! Do you know how long it's been since my last hydrophobtoncer shot? Years!" And with that emphasis, no one would say he wasn't at least mad, and present company may just be infected. The crowd, almost as one, steps back with alarmed murmurs.