asobouyo | ♥ Appointments Post ♥

Entry tags:

♥ appointment post

♥ Appointments Post ♥

This is a personal appointment post for anyone who wants to contact Elicia Hughes (

asobouyo ) without going to the trouble of setting up a log/journal; as I'll say with all my characters, if you have any reason to contact her at all, go right ahead here! Voice, Video, Written, or Action is completely acceptable. Just keep in mind that she's at school at certain times on weekdays (it's sketchy enough to say 'after school' or before or what have you)!

Please put the the month and the type of communication—i.e. [March 29th][Action], or anything in that sort of way—in the subject line (putting why you're there is totally optional; I'm sure I'll figure it out through the character eventually. |D).

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Oh.

Frown deepening at that. She's very quiet and solemn for a moment, but she doesn't look away from him.]

You're the person who shot Mr. Loki?

[He's faced down criminals of the highest order and keeping his gaze on one kid is proving to be harder.]

Yeah, I did. He... he hurt me, hurt my friends. But I never wanted anyone else to be involved. And I'm sorry.

[She nods, her hand clutching a very special stone hidden in her pocket. A halo of green shines around Clint's head—he's telling the truth. Loki had, as Mr. Iron Man had said, as many had said, done some terrible, terrible things.

She steps forward and wraps her arms around his neck, squeezing gently.

So far, hugs have been the criteria for this. Loki had one, she needed one—it only made sense that this person would need it, too.]

It wasn't fair, what happened. I'm sorry you had to hurt so much.

[He manages not to pull away when she wraps her arms around his neck, even though it's a little strange, and after a moment, he reaches out, wrapping an arm around her and hugging her gently.

He manages a small smile.]

Yeah. I'm sorry anyone did. It's not your fault. None of it.

Edited 2012-10-23 19:12 (UTC)

[She can't help but tear up at that; she's never been good at taking things well—when her papa disappeared, it was because she didn't wish hard enough. When people got hurt and her village was hurt by a storm, it was because she'd been bad. Her mama... she wasn't there for her. Maybe if she had been...

She sniffles, squeaks a sound, but she holds it all back and pats Clint's back.]

It's not you're fault neither. Nothing was your fault neither.

[Oh hell, she looks like she's about to cry, and he's never been good when people cry. He strokes down her back gently, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment when she says that, taking a shuddering breath.]

Thank you.

[And he means it.

He pulls away and grabs for the stuffed toy that he'd brought.]

Hey, I brought this for you. Thought you might like it.

Thanks... [She smiles a little bit, fiddling with its ear; it's a good present. But she holds it up in front of her, frowning.] But it needs a name—I'll forgive you one-hundred percent if you pick a good name for it!