they are the hunters, we are the foxes - and we run

[hastily]

the ON THE RUN meme


Sometimes, these things happen. Sometimes, you're in just the wrong place at just the right time, or you've made the wrong (or right, depending on your intentions) person mad. Sometimes it's better for everyone if you just go. Sometimes there isn't time for good-bye.

LOST
You've managed to lose yourself somewhere out there, for whatever reason it was. Maybe you took someone with you (willingly? not?), or you found someone else who needed to disappear as badly as you did. You're in your car, or a cheap hotel, or a house by the side of the road. What else can you do but watch, and wait?

FOUND
It could have been as simple as being glimpsed at the 7-11. Your phoneline wasn't as secure as you thought. You locked eyes with the wrong person across the room. Now the house of cards is collapsing, and maybe not just your life, but the lives of everyone you love could be in jeopardy now. The walls are closing in, and your arms are giving out.

RULES
- post with your character's name and canon. if you have an on-the-run AU, or scenarios you might want to play out, mention them here.
- find others. tag them.
- and then, run.

Comments

[clouded_moon]

"If I wasn't already heading home, very literally." Izumo took the chopsticks and shuffled back to the table. Setting his bag down beside the chair, he fished his food out of the plastic bag. "Move in for about a week and rearrange ever damn drawer and cabinet in the house."

He opened the containers with quick hands. He was hungry. "So if you're OCD about where things go, don't ever invite me to stay."

[ihazanest]

He shook his head, flopping down to sit as well, "Not really. Don't have enough in the place to worry too much about where it goes." The only thing he was really picky about was his armory, but he kept that up himself, even Natasha didn't have keys to the lock-box he kept it all in.

Granted, she had keys to almost everything else, but he wasn't too concerned about that, which was why she had them in the first place, "But I dunno, might be entertaining to watch."

[clouded_moon]

"So I've been told," Izumo agreed, and started eating, which left little room for talking. At least, the way he ate didn't: bent low over his bowl, he scarfed his food down at a rate likely to cause choking in anyone else. He knew, logically, Clint wasn't going to take his food, that it was safe here, but old habits died hard and Clint wasn't going to hold this over his head. So Izumo ate as he did.

[ihazanest]

Clint was definitely not going to hold something like that over his head, mostly because sometimes, on the bad days, Clint ate the same way. One arm up on the table acting as a barrier between his dish and others, bent over close enough to it that he didn't spill anything, chewing and swallowing almost as quickly as he could get the next bite in.

He wasn't quite that bad at the moment, though he did keep his arm up around his plate, that much was an ingrained habit that he couldn't kill but could sometimes suppress, when he had to. For the time being, he was eating somewhat more slowly than Izumo, but still quickly enough to make sure he got seconds if he needed them.

[clouded_moon]

Izumo finished off his food and leaned back against his chair, sipping at his tea and waiting for his stomach to catch up and realize it was full. He watched Clint eat lazily, body curled lax in his chair and eyes heavy-lidded. He was tired, all over, and starting to feel ridiculously muddle-headed and fuzzy. He needed to sleep, and here might be safe enough his paranoia would actually let him sleep deeply enough to rest.

[ihazanest]

It was an expression Clint knew well, he'd worn it himself often enough, and usually when denying just how exhausted he was. So what he said was: "C'mon, couch. We'll put on the crappy reality TV as background noise and see how long it takes to pass the fuck out."

Not that he was necessarily all that tired, and it was unlikely that he'd actually sleep while Izumo was, since it would be up to him to keep watch, but he might doze a little all the same.

[clouded_moon]

"Not very long," Izumo answered him, coherently enough, but blinking drowsily at him. He yawned, and stretched himself slowly out of his chair. He scooped up his pack and carried it along with him to set it at the foot of the couch. All his weaponry and much of his important filing lived in there, and his medicines too. He kept it close.

"Nothing with gunshots, that's all I ask." Background noise was okay until that happened.

[ihazanest]

"Okay, so Toddlers and Tiaras, not Dog Cops, gotcha." He didn't actually have either of those, considering that his usual reality TV habits were cooking shows and occasionally Real Housewives re-runs.

He snagged the remote before dropping himself on the other end of the couch, arm snaking up across Izumo's shoulders to lay him down, "C'mere, get comfortable."

[clouded_moon]

"Oh gods, screaming kids give me nightmares too," Izumo snorted, a wry tired grin on his lips as he followed the suggestion of the arm. He crawled in closer and wedged himself into the space between Clint and the couch's back, and as a result ended up mostly on top of Clint too, burrowing into the body heat. He chuckled and kissed Clint on the jaw.

"You smell nice. S'a good colour. It's weird though 'cause you taste a totally different colour, not a lot of people do," he mused, as he made little shifting, settling motions, finding the most comfortable fit between their bodies. Then he heaved a great big sigh and went utterly boneless in an instant.