- Oh god, not another one. Tony had already stuck him with that nickname among his friends, if he had to take it from strangers too they were going to have a problem. With a chip on his shoulder he responded, ‘Name’s Clint. C-L-I-N-T.’ It could be a hard word to read, he was told, so he’d always spelt it out when he introduced himself to anyone. Just easier that way. He wouldn’t have to repeat himself and it gave him a chance to ignore Erik, who he had decided he didn’t like at all. Eddie, however, he didn’t mind. He seemed alright, but then, Clint knew some stand-up folks who he would happily put a bullet into at the earliest convenience, so only time would tell.
‘Look, you don’t want our help, fine. Give me back my weapons and let me go on my way. I didn't come here to fight you, and I like these pants, so for now I’m sticking to that. Give me a reason to defend myself and I will, but - as I said - I’m trying to help you and I can’t do that if you’re holding me hostage here.’ He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, still keeping a visual on the men in front of him in case Erik decided those arrows looked better in him or Eddie did whatever it was he could do.