[center][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/628604259478536196/824625338691878962/dvgrtfdcrfd.png[/img]

[color=3CB371]Location:[/color] Angel Grove Community Center
[color=3CB371]Interacting w/:[/color] [@psych0pomp] [/center]
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Clint was forced into a losing defense, an assortment of spears planted in the dirt as he had disarmed the opposition before getting swarmed entirely, his arms up in an attempt to protect his head from sustaining too much damage. Unfortunately, this meant less defense for the rest of his body, and he was at that very moment sick of getting punched in his ribs. And kidneys. God, kidney punches were the worst. It came to an eventual point that Clint almost lost his footing entirely, the man's back against one of the booths as he used it for support, heavy breaths escaping him as he scanned the situation. Three on one was [i]fantastic,[/i] it sure was a lot easier to handle this when he could morph. At least he hadn't gotten stabbed, but the less optimistic side of him wanted to say a rib was broken. Maybe he'd just take a nap for a few minutes and they'd piss off? Then he could get back up and kick their asses... As they closed in, he realized that plan wasn't going to work and began bracing himself for another beating.

At least, until a loud noise signified something foreign hitting one of the Drunn Soldiers. The loud crack caught Clint's attention, the man looking up and noticing a guy; He thought he saw him a short while ago, but wasn't particularly sure as the pain was fucking with his recent recollection. Regardless, two of the Drunn Soldiers turned on him, and one was left focusing the cowboy. Panic ran through his mind as he heard the man exclaim at the fact their opposition turned on him, which told Clint he wasn't very prepared for the idea whatsoever. He'd get pissed over a guy playing hero, but then what had Clint done by rushing over here, right? They were two people in the same boat at the moment, and neither of them were going overboard today. 

He took a deep breath, a sharp pain shooting through him but he decided it wasn't worth worrying about right now, for better or worse. The third Drunn Soldier had assumed he was weakened enough to pummel by itself, but it couldn't have expected Clint's second wind: The man grabbing it's arm as it took a swing at him, it seemingly having an [i]"Oh shit"[/i] moment of it's own with how it tried to recoil against his grip as he delivered multiple firm kicks to it's torso, the final kick knocking it to the ground. 

[color=3CB371][i]'C'mon, Martyr...'[/i][/color] He thought to himself, pushing through the pain to pull one of the Drunn's weapons out of the ground, liking the idea of the kid's approach with the bat, actually! So much that he swung the weapon in both hands towards the ankle of one of the Drunn Soldiers, causing it to tumble down to it's knees, Clint then taking a swing at the second one before it could turn; This time the weapon breaking from the impact as it too was forced down, at least stopping their approach on the guy who tried batting a thousand. Clint had moved in to try and actually finish the job, but found himself getting elbowed in the gut; The pain from the injuries he already had from his previous defensive kicking in full force as he toppled backwards, onto the ground. 

He might have went down, but so did one of the soldiers. And the other two were still trying to regain their footing, so perhaps it was a worthwhile exchange for the situation the batter had been in prior. If anything, it at least gave him time to run. Or, if he was feeling brave still, to take a few cheap shots while they were struggling.