Syndemic application
Mar. 11th, 2013 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
antivillainName: Merry
Age: Range: 25-30
Personal DW:holdwine
email/msn/aim/plurk/etc:![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
halflingmerry
Currently played characters: None
Canon Source: Marvel's The Avengers
Canon Format: Whedon Film
Character's Name: Clinton Francis Barton (middle name a deadly secret), known as "Clint", "Barton", "Hawk" or "Hawkeye".
Character's Age: Early thirties? Hard to tell: face looks older, physique could be younger.
Sex: Think we have time? I mean, male.
Species: Human.
Character Suitability: He loves to shoot things and blow things up. Good team player. Not a stranger to covert laboratory installations. Also very keen to work through/make up/be punished for what he did under Loki's influence, and simultaneously really wanting to escape introspection. Mindless combat? Lemme at those zombies already.
Character History: Marvel wiki
Point in Canon: After end of movie. In which all things seem hunk-dory… except now that the world-saving and duty-filling and team-playing is done with, Barton has to reckon with himself. For what he did under Loki's power, for how easily and completely he went under Loki's power… yeah, yeah, gods, magic, whatever. In his book, "[a] (G/g)od made me do it," no matter how unthinkably literal, is still a lame excuse. So when he first wakes in the lab, he has all sorts of knee-jerk theories: the Chitauri managed to grab one of them after all for whatever kind of probing you could think of; or S.H.I.E.L.D. are being assholes about the debriefing; or someone else has captured him to be an asshole about debriefing; or he's finally getting the punishment he deserves. The "fictional character" thing… he'll be very attentive to all of it for the wider perspectives it may yield, but in some core of his being, without necessarily worrying about why/how, he just won't worry about it—not buy it. 'Cause that, too, seems like too easy a way out. For all we know, we may all be brains in jars, or neutrons firing in someone else's brain in a jar. He still has to act as if he's responsible for his actions. So get on with the actions.
Previous CR: N/A
Character Personality:
It is, traditionally and habitually, extremely hard to tell what Barton is thinking. This could be for several reasons: (1) he's an introvert. (2) he's a trained counter-intelligence/anti-interrogation/undercover operative. (3) he's really not… actually… thinking so much. Tactics, certainly. Observation, definitely. Association, possibly. But introspection, philosophication, or running commentary? Not a lot.
Current science suggests that octupuses (-pi?) are much smarter than their small brain-size would suggest, because their nervous system is more equally and intensely distributed around their whole bodies, particularly in the suckers of their tentacles… why, e.g., a severed tentacle can keep moving around and grasping things independent of the rest of the body/cranial brain. Basically, their skin can think. That's kinda Barton. He and his brain stopped talking—y'know, intimately or familiarly—a long time ago; delegated to a professional/formal relationship. His focus went very vigorously to other functions and processes: physical fitness and ability and skill set. His mind was only useful in service to these things. And, okay, solving puzzles; but that's not as much a reflective pursuit, it may have to make connections with things past and anticipate things coming, but it tends to be very much immediate, in the moment. And in the way he's come to visualize things, still seems more concrete than abstract. (Like his dead-reckoning: doesn't involve any kind of storytelling, rather the constant visualization of a birds'-eye-view real-time map and himself moving across it.) So he's not big on abstract conceptualization; and at this point, his body can do a lot of its thinking without mental conference. His fingertips, soles of his feet, limbs, muscles, they know what's going on, what they've got to work with, how to react, how to initiate.
As for things like morality and purpose… he'd rather outsource those as well. So he'll pick for whom and with whom he works very, very carefully. And after long enough with Fury and Tasha, that's become a more visceral instinct as well: be able to size people up fairly accurately and quickly on gut instinct; and their actions are likewise paramount. What people claim or how they aspire pales ultimately to what they actually do.
That's part of why his partnership with Tasha was so great. Not just that she did all the thinking—which isn't actually true, in many situations they bounced off each other quite mutually. But interpersonally—first off, that term was able to be redefined to suit their shared experience, their company. She was able to stimulate processes he didn't typically activate (or have access to, anymore/ever) in himself; and he allowed her to relax into a situation where there was no ongoing intrusion, demand, fear of distance or silence. They could be quite comfortable and companionable—even intimate—without having to constantly reaffirm/"communicate"/reach out.
It's a kind of being in the moment, perhaps, that zen masters advocate.
At the same time… at the same time. As he's lately found. It can be ungrounded. There's a fine line between in the moment (when perhaps it's on more superficial a level than actual zen mastery) and unrooted. Where someone like Loki can friggin' hijack you, 'cause you're not so tethered to whomever you, historically, habitually, in more than this present moment, really is.
Maybe that's not true. After all, Barton was hardly the only one taken down.
Doesn't mean he's not gonna think about how he was taken down. Remade. Reused.
And how to keep it from happening again.
Might be time to try and sit and think about things, not just watch something else, or find the next activity, the next mission. …Try to actually… reflect. …Or even just really, truly, sit, with only himself. His first arrival here will be a great opportunity to try it.
Appearance/PB: All the pictures
First Person Sample:
Dead Weight test drive meme (w. Loki)
Intro post to Scorched
Banter thread w/facetwin on Scorched
Bakerstreet ridiculous meme (w. Thor, Tasha & Coulson)
Another ridiculous meme I shouldn't be half so pleased with but am (w. Cap)
Third Person Sample:
However unthinkably literal, "(a) [G/g]od made me do it" is still a lame excuse.
…somehow the "fictional" idea just doesn't bother him. Or perhaps doesn't compute. But the fact that it won't computer doesn't bother him either.
'Cause ultimately, it just seems like too easy a way out. For all we know, we may all be brains in jars, or neurons firing in someone else's brain in a jar. We still have to act as if we're responsible for our actions. So might as well get on with them. And if someone wants to say we're not real… whatever. On the moment-to-moment level, doesn't really change anything.
So that wasn't what made him think twice about watching the movie he was supposedly "from". It was more... well...
The spying.
To get another look at Loki— fine. Dandy. Might as well. Barton didn't want to yet very much did— forget that. Ultimately, he was duty-bound to see as much of it as was available. More than he could stand, if it was there to be stood. Whatever there was to learn, he should learn. The only way to be free of it was to face it, or to claim mastery/liberty; not just receive it at Tasha's hands (fists) but through it himself. When something scares you, do it.
And it was a chance to see it rather than try to remember it. One of these things was infinitely more reliable, and possibly comfortable, than the other.
So he didn't mind watching Loki.
It was his allies. He didn't want to spy on them.
Thing is, this tape existed. At all. Was open for others to view. Therefore, as an ally, he should see it. If he didn't owe it to them—but maybe yeah: he owed it to them. To see what was exposed so nothing could take him or them by surprise, so he could all the better defend if need be. To be able—
(when no one else knows)
to keep it for them.
('No one else will know about your past, so it's all the more important that you keep it.')
Barton sat and watched the movie.
It was pretty good, actually.
Fast paced. Funny. Mostly respectfully ...and disrespectfully when deserved.
Those were some of the best bits.
It was also less disorienting than expected. People don't look the same on screen as in life. Dimensions, maybe. Absence of other sensory input. Smells. Texture. Everything. So for a lot of it, it was shockingly easy to imagine he was watching a documentary or newsreel, or, indeed, a fictional portrayal of people he knew by pretty good impersonators.
Even watching loki was.... okay. Possibly even better. Seeing the guy reduced to a two-dimensional Snidely Whiplash in a box was strangely satisfying.
The only people he was uncomfortable watching were himself (no shit. cognitive dissonance. embarrassment. disinterest.) —and Tasha.
They didn't work like this. He didn't look for what she didn't choose to show. Didn't pry for what she didn't tell. The bits where she was in crowds, talking to others—fine, public face. His presence would have made no difference to her behavior, so no difference for him to see it now.
But the moments where she was alone, when she allowed herself just a second of feeling her own humanity, her own weakness, which wasn't weakness at all by far, it was those who shied from feeling it who were weakened by it, as opposed to those like Tasha who simply didn't allow others to see she felt it—
That was an intrusion. That was betrayal.
That was when he looked away.
Though the fight between her and himself, surprisingly, didn't get to him. He was too busy feeling distracted and annoyed by all the smash cuts. Like a choreographer trying to actually watch the dancing in a musical number which is getting mangled by close-ups. You couldn't tell what moves were being made or how the fight really progressed. C'mon, man. It was like you were trying to hide...
...stunt doubles.
The first lightningstroke of doubt—or possibly of belief. Are we just.... creations?
...and that suddenly made it even more of a nonissue for him.
everyone's a "creation" of some slice, most folks from most places would argue. Since no one could agree on "by whom/what" and "whyfor", why not say it was by an author for entertainment. No more crazy than some of the other theories.
He let the moment pass and didn't miss it when it failed to return.
In the final analysis, as in the first analysis, it wasn't worth worrying about.
He got for the first time that weird adage I think, therefore I am. It meant: if to him it seemed like he was in charge of himself and had to make his own decisions, then he had to feel like it and act like it, 'cause deciding to abdicate that responsibility for the sake of some Creator being in charge was... still... just lame.
He'd had a tiny life—travel and… maybe… impact on events notwithstanding; adventures that don't reach your mind or heart aren't ultimately that big—but dammit he'd take responsibility for it.
He finished the movie.
Watched it again. Admittedly fast-forwarding some bits.
He thought about watching it a third time. But he didn't want to. And anyway, he had the images stored by now.
He felt kinda… desensitized.
There was the old world. Nicely packaged, in a box.
It made him feel a bit more… defensive? …actually, protective, of it, than he even had while actively protecting it.
Well, fine. Until he could get back there, he'd keep it in a box for himself.
Kinda felt like a gift.
So, with that, possibly not as his captors(?) had intended, which just made it all the better, it was time to take a good hard look at this new world.
Age: Range: 25-30
Personal DW:
holdwineemail/msn/aim/plurk/etc:
Currently played characters: None
Canon Source: Marvel's The Avengers
Canon Format: Whedon Film
Character's Name: Clinton Francis Barton (middle name a deadly secret), known as "Clint", "Barton", "Hawk" or "Hawkeye".
Character's Age: Early thirties? Hard to tell: face looks older, physique could be younger.
Sex: Think we have time? I mean, male.
Species: Human.
Character Suitability: He loves to shoot things and blow things up. Good team player. Not a stranger to covert laboratory installations. Also very keen to work through/make up/be punished for what he did under Loki's influence, and simultaneously really wanting to escape introspection. Mindless combat? Lemme at those zombies already.
Character History: Marvel wiki
Point in Canon: After end of movie. In which all things seem hunk-dory… except now that the world-saving and duty-filling and team-playing is done with, Barton has to reckon with himself. For what he did under Loki's power, for how easily and completely he went under Loki's power… yeah, yeah, gods, magic, whatever. In his book, "[a] (G/g)od made me do it," no matter how unthinkably literal, is still a lame excuse. So when he first wakes in the lab, he has all sorts of knee-jerk theories: the Chitauri managed to grab one of them after all for whatever kind of probing you could think of; or S.H.I.E.L.D. are being assholes about the debriefing; or someone else has captured him to be an asshole about debriefing; or he's finally getting the punishment he deserves. The "fictional character" thing… he'll be very attentive to all of it for the wider perspectives it may yield, but in some core of his being, without necessarily worrying about why/how, he just won't worry about it—not buy it. 'Cause that, too, seems like too easy a way out. For all we know, we may all be brains in jars, or neutrons firing in someone else's brain in a jar. He still has to act as if he's responsible for his actions. So get on with the actions.
Previous CR: N/A
Character Personality:
It is, traditionally and habitually, extremely hard to tell what Barton is thinking. This could be for several reasons: (1) he's an introvert. (2) he's a trained counter-intelligence/anti-interrogation/undercover operative. (3) he's really not… actually… thinking so much. Tactics, certainly. Observation, definitely. Association, possibly. But introspection, philosophication, or running commentary? Not a lot.
Current science suggests that octupuses (-pi?) are much smarter than their small brain-size would suggest, because their nervous system is more equally and intensely distributed around their whole bodies, particularly in the suckers of their tentacles… why, e.g., a severed tentacle can keep moving around and grasping things independent of the rest of the body/cranial brain. Basically, their skin can think. That's kinda Barton. He and his brain stopped talking—y'know, intimately or familiarly—a long time ago; delegated to a professional/formal relationship. His focus went very vigorously to other functions and processes: physical fitness and ability and skill set. His mind was only useful in service to these things. And, okay, solving puzzles; but that's not as much a reflective pursuit, it may have to make connections with things past and anticipate things coming, but it tends to be very much immediate, in the moment. And in the way he's come to visualize things, still seems more concrete than abstract. (Like his dead-reckoning: doesn't involve any kind of storytelling, rather the constant visualization of a birds'-eye-view real-time map and himself moving across it.) So he's not big on abstract conceptualization; and at this point, his body can do a lot of its thinking without mental conference. His fingertips, soles of his feet, limbs, muscles, they know what's going on, what they've got to work with, how to react, how to initiate.
As for things like morality and purpose… he'd rather outsource those as well. So he'll pick for whom and with whom he works very, very carefully. And after long enough with Fury and Tasha, that's become a more visceral instinct as well: be able to size people up fairly accurately and quickly on gut instinct; and their actions are likewise paramount. What people claim or how they aspire pales ultimately to what they actually do.
That's part of why his partnership with Tasha was so great. Not just that she did all the thinking—which isn't actually true, in many situations they bounced off each other quite mutually. But interpersonally—first off, that term was able to be redefined to suit their shared experience, their company. She was able to stimulate processes he didn't typically activate (or have access to, anymore/ever) in himself; and he allowed her to relax into a situation where there was no ongoing intrusion, demand, fear of distance or silence. They could be quite comfortable and companionable—even intimate—without having to constantly reaffirm/"communicate"/reach out.
It's a kind of being in the moment, perhaps, that zen masters advocate.
At the same time… at the same time. As he's lately found. It can be ungrounded. There's a fine line between in the moment (when perhaps it's on more superficial a level than actual zen mastery) and unrooted. Where someone like Loki can friggin' hijack you, 'cause you're not so tethered to whomever you, historically, habitually, in more than this present moment, really is.
Maybe that's not true. After all, Barton was hardly the only one taken down.
Doesn't mean he's not gonna think about how he was taken down. Remade. Reused.
And how to keep it from happening again.
Might be time to try and sit and think about things, not just watch something else, or find the next activity, the next mission. …Try to actually… reflect. …Or even just really, truly, sit, with only himself. His first arrival here will be a great opportunity to try it.
Appearance/PB: All the pictures
First Person Sample:
Dead Weight test drive meme (w. Loki)
Intro post to Scorched
Banter thread w/facetwin on Scorched
Bakerstreet ridiculous meme (w. Thor, Tasha & Coulson)
Another ridiculous meme I shouldn't be half so pleased with but am (w. Cap)
Third Person Sample:
However unthinkably literal, "(a) [G/g]od made me do it" is still a lame excuse.
…somehow the "fictional" idea just doesn't bother him. Or perhaps doesn't compute. But the fact that it won't computer doesn't bother him either.
'Cause ultimately, it just seems like too easy a way out. For all we know, we may all be brains in jars, or neurons firing in someone else's brain in a jar. We still have to act as if we're responsible for our actions. So might as well get on with them. And if someone wants to say we're not real… whatever. On the moment-to-moment level, doesn't really change anything.
So that wasn't what made him think twice about watching the movie he was supposedly "from". It was more... well...
The spying.
To get another look at Loki— fine. Dandy. Might as well. Barton didn't want to yet very much did— forget that. Ultimately, he was duty-bound to see as much of it as was available. More than he could stand, if it was there to be stood. Whatever there was to learn, he should learn. The only way to be free of it was to face it, or to claim mastery/liberty; not just receive it at Tasha's hands (fists) but through it himself. When something scares you, do it.
And it was a chance to see it rather than try to remember it. One of these things was infinitely more reliable, and possibly comfortable, than the other.
So he didn't mind watching Loki.
It was his allies. He didn't want to spy on them.
Thing is, this tape existed. At all. Was open for others to view. Therefore, as an ally, he should see it. If he didn't owe it to them—but maybe yeah: he owed it to them. To see what was exposed so nothing could take him or them by surprise, so he could all the better defend if need be. To be able—
(when no one else knows)
to keep it for them.
('No one else will know about your past, so it's all the more important that you keep it.')
Barton sat and watched the movie.
It was pretty good, actually.
Fast paced. Funny. Mostly respectfully ...and disrespectfully when deserved.
Those were some of the best bits.
It was also less disorienting than expected. People don't look the same on screen as in life. Dimensions, maybe. Absence of other sensory input. Smells. Texture. Everything. So for a lot of it, it was shockingly easy to imagine he was watching a documentary or newsreel, or, indeed, a fictional portrayal of people he knew by pretty good impersonators.
Even watching loki was.... okay. Possibly even better. Seeing the guy reduced to a two-dimensional Snidely Whiplash in a box was strangely satisfying.
The only people he was uncomfortable watching were himself (no shit. cognitive dissonance. embarrassment. disinterest.) —and Tasha.
They didn't work like this. He didn't look for what she didn't choose to show. Didn't pry for what she didn't tell. The bits where she was in crowds, talking to others—fine, public face. His presence would have made no difference to her behavior, so no difference for him to see it now.
But the moments where she was alone, when she allowed herself just a second of feeling her own humanity, her own weakness, which wasn't weakness at all by far, it was those who shied from feeling it who were weakened by it, as opposed to those like Tasha who simply didn't allow others to see she felt it—
That was an intrusion. That was betrayal.
That was when he looked away.
Though the fight between her and himself, surprisingly, didn't get to him. He was too busy feeling distracted and annoyed by all the smash cuts. Like a choreographer trying to actually watch the dancing in a musical number which is getting mangled by close-ups. You couldn't tell what moves were being made or how the fight really progressed. C'mon, man. It was like you were trying to hide...
...stunt doubles.
The first lightningstroke of doubt—or possibly of belief. Are we just.... creations?
...and that suddenly made it even more of a nonissue for him.
everyone's a "creation" of some slice, most folks from most places would argue. Since no one could agree on "by whom/what" and "whyfor", why not say it was by an author for entertainment. No more crazy than some of the other theories.
He let the moment pass and didn't miss it when it failed to return.
In the final analysis, as in the first analysis, it wasn't worth worrying about.
He got for the first time that weird adage I think, therefore I am. It meant: if to him it seemed like he was in charge of himself and had to make his own decisions, then he had to feel like it and act like it, 'cause deciding to abdicate that responsibility for the sake of some Creator being in charge was... still... just lame.
He'd had a tiny life—travel and… maybe… impact on events notwithstanding; adventures that don't reach your mind or heart aren't ultimately that big—but dammit he'd take responsibility for it.
He finished the movie.
Watched it again. Admittedly fast-forwarding some bits.
He thought about watching it a third time. But he didn't want to. And anyway, he had the images stored by now.
He felt kinda… desensitized.
There was the old world. Nicely packaged, in a box.
It made him feel a bit more… defensive? …actually, protective, of it, than he even had while actively protecting it.
Well, fine. Until he could get back there, he'd keep it in a box for himself.
Kinda felt like a gift.
So, with that, possibly not as his captors(?) had intended, which just made it all the better, it was time to take a good hard look at this new world.
