Who; Pietro and Clint. Being bros. Sort of.
What; Arrows. Arrows.
Where; Wherever Clint lives.
When; Christmas morning! aka: before all the shit hits the fan in the Avengers quadrant.
Warning(s); Eurosnobbery. Derpery. Arrows? I'VE GOT MY PRIORITIES STRAIGHT.
(
What do you do when your alternate universe bro is being alternate universey? Spoiler warning: NO ONE HAS ANY IDEA. )
WOW THIS TURNED INTO PROSE. Tl;dr - Clint opened the door looking pissed off because it was early, even though Pietro hadn't exactly woken him up. )
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So.
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So. You've no doubt had time to reassess the place, and the people here. What do you think now?
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What's there to think? It is what it is.
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Forgive me for operating on the assumption that you would have any opinion on what's going on.
[It doesn't really sound hostile. More of an 'OH. YOU.']
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People are people everywhere. Some of them are stupid and some of them are great and some of them are captains who were supposed to be dead seventy years ago. Being here doesn't change that.
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are you used to this by now
you should be.]
So that's it, then? Blind acceptance?
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Didn't say that. But if you accept something, even for a bit, you can usually find ways around it. Instead of charging in head on and hitting a wall.
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Walls can be broken down with sufficient force, as I'm sure you're aware.
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