It would have been great if he had his skycycle for an occasion like this. He probably should have asked those scientists for that, instead of his car - even if his car was beautiful. Having the skycycle would have been more practical, flying over obstacles in the road, getting a birds-eye-view of the destruction and finding where he was needed. But noo, he asked for his car, the car that was parked safely in the Mansion's garage while he hoofed it through the streets.
Maybe it was for the better. Who knew if it would have been given to him in a functional condition, or the mess of broken parts it was after Wade Wilson took it for a joy ride.
Here was Clint Barton on top of a pile of rubble, at its highest point, scanning the surrounding area and making mental notes on the level of destruction from what he could see. He was unhurt, lucky enough to have been in a clear zone when the earthquake had hit.
Hands were brushing against the purple hearing aids in his ears, turning the volume up a little more - sirens, commotion, people screaming or shouting - this was a little overwhelming. Taking a deep breath he shook his head before knocking the volume down a few, just a little - it was overwhelming with all this noise but it was so much safer to hear everything.
A shameful thought crossed his mind - retreating to the mansion and burying himself under blankets. What a terrible person. He couldn't do that. People needed his help - was that? "Dorian?!"
See you can't just hide, you have friends out here. Clint carefully made his way down his perch and jogged over to the mage, giving him a once-over as he caught some breathe. "You okay?"