2019-07-25 - Arrows and Folders

Summary:

Clint is training trickshots as Shuri is handing the paperwork in for the Avengers.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Thu Jul 25 00:36:51 2019
Location: Avengers Mansion - Foyer

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

None

clint-bartonshuri

Needs must when the devil drives. And at times, now and again, Clint Barton may as well have horns and a pitchfork. What else are the devil's play things? Idle hands. And it is so very terribly idle when you're waiting for the information you sent out for to come back. SHIELD has a lot of contacts, and Hawkeye an entire bevy of his own. Once you get them moving you can get a lot of information back.
But it takes time.
The first few hours he'd managed to distract himself with work. In the Mansion it's sometimes better than the Triskelion since there's less random chaos around. But once what work he could do was done, he started to lash around for something else.
He went down to the sub-level Gym. All the old training programs were out of date, not much of a challenge anymore. But an Archer of Clint's caliber, it's easy for them to make things a touch more challenging for themselves.
Which is what leads to him being in the Foyer at this hour, standing in front of the monitor on the wall, looking sideways down the length of the hallway with his bow drawn and ready, an arrow nocked and set. Some distance down the hall a cast iron pan is hanging from the wall, angled to the side a bit.
An electronic voice pipes up, « Agent Barton, this is highly irregular. Training is to be conducted in the gymnasium. »
"I am training in the gymnasium." Clint says, straining a bit as he holds the arrow and adjusts his aim by looking at the monitor a bit, "Sorta." He adds.

As the black car returns for the second time this week, again some driver lets out the dignitary that belongs to the little flags posted on the front of the car. The harsh light from the foyer first illuminates shiny black fabric clinging to legs, then the rest of the female as she moves to the door, golden decorations getting drawn out of the darkness. A young woman of high physical fitness, so much her movement patterns tell, carying a folder she wanted to hand in…

« We have a visitor. »
"Yeah?" Clint says without looking up from the monitor, though his arms are straining a bit, trembling from holding the string back at full extension for an extended period of time. He grimaces, "Can you tell them to hold up?"
« I do not think the Ambassador from Wakanda would appreciate being told to 'hold up', Agent Barton. »
"What, T'Challa?" Not exactly up on who is all what and where. But then finally he releases the bow string with an audible /TWANG-PFFFT!/ as the arrow flies, then ricochets off the distant iron skillet with a /PANG!/ and then flies out of view down the hall.
Crinkling his nose, Clint eyes the monitor again, then turns towards the door. It opens but moments before Shuri would need to lower herself to knock or make entry. And there, in all his glory, stands Clint. T-shirt, jeans, white sneakers, and now with a bow slung over one shoulder. "Oh hey." He greets her rather informally.
One finger lifts as if he recognized her and then his head tilts to the side with brow furrowing. "Hey." He repeats again, perhaps not entirely placing her. It may have been… years, after all.

The woman waited in front of the door as one of the residents appeared, giving him a raised eyebrow for a short moment, the folder still in her hand. "Is this some kind of test?" she asks carefully, moving to get in and to the counter slowly. "To see if I can hand in the papers without being stopped? I thought Captain Rogers was more impressed." she almost muses. She stops as she is almost there, the purplish cat with the fur trim at the neck and the much golden jewlery catching the light and playing with the room's reflections on their surface. "Because if, I almost did it."

Accepting the folder, Clint won't make any move to stop her. It's clear his gaze is distracted by the ornamentation and the woman that wears it. His lip twists as he murmurs, "I don't think it's a test." The folder is lifted and he casually starts to peruse it, nosily.
"Then again maybe we're both being tested?" His eyebrows raise and then he smiles. "Oh hey, you're Shuri." He looks up, features warm. He remembers her a bit more now, "T'Challa's little sister. We met some time ago. I'm Clint. Err. Hawkeye."
A hand is extended towards her in greeting. "You've grown." Then he tilts his head to the side slightly, "Tall." A nod is given as if approving.
But then he looks back at the folder and he continues to flip through it, though now he's turning and walking down the hall, clearly expecting for her to walk with him. "And you're joining the Avengers? Very cool. All familial and such."

A couple long moments Shuri just eyes clint flipping through the folder that she had had to fill out for the Avengers. All of it stuff he had had to fill in himself some years ago. Age, where she was born and such, though some of the information didn't exactly make too much sense for anyone that didn't have a map of Wakanda or a good grasp on their customs. Like the lack of a family name in the appropriate field and references to places of study nobody outside of Wakanda would know. "I… think the last time I saw you Mister Barton was in… Azania? When they had that big earthquake some dozen years or such back?" she wonders, tapping her chin a moment. Just calling her tall? Well, she was kind of tall… "Well, as you see, I am indeed trying."

"Well, you got my vote." Clint's vote doesn't really count. He strolls along the hallway and runs a fingertip over the skillet that hangs weirdly from the wall. Then he turns and looks down the hallway to what seems to be a steel pot that's propped up in a stairwell holding the door open.
"But yeah, the security effort in Azania." He glances over his shoulder, "Ambassador Princess." He stops in the doorway and holds it open for her, blue eyes slipping back to peer at her own as his lip twists up a touch. "Should I have bowed?"
Into the stairwell he goes whether she precedes him or not. Then he says sidelong, "Is it okay for me to call you Shuri still? Madame Excellency? Her Diplomatic Highness?"
Reaching the next flight of steps down there's another pot that is angled just so and pointing towards the large double doors of the gym and training hall.

Shuri chuckles a little as she follows, letting Clint ramble a little about the old times. "Well, Ambassador is what I do for Wakanda, Princess is how Wakanda is used to refer to me because T'Challa used to be King, but currently there's a regent… well, it's a mess." She only gives the tiny glimpse on the current Wakandan council position and makeup. "But I am still Shuri."

Through those double doors and into the large gym with its padded floors and myriad of exercise equipment. Out in the middle of that stainless steel floor is an old hay-stuffed target that currently has just a single arrow imbedded in it… but not in the bullseye. It's on the first blue line a good six inches above where he likely was aiming.
It's this fact that has Clint scowling to himself as he steps into the room, his footsteps echoing off the metal walls and he frowns when he /yoinks/ that arrow out of the hay. "Dammit." He says, shaking his head.
But then he looks back towards her and says, "Well, good that you're still Shuri." His eyebrows lift, "You've grown into…" He shakes is head and looks back at her folder, thumbing it open again and peruses her CV and then tilts his head at her. "Quite a competent woman."
Then a once over and he adds, "Buff too." He tilts his head to the side and now leans against the target, "What do you intend to do as an Avenger?"

"Impressive, if one considers that you shot around about six corners, each increasing the angular error and widening the path where the arrow might have ended. All based on a tiny change in the cinditions of the shop. "You hadn't have any line of ight, right? I mean, you couldn't takke alook at i."

"I cheated, was looking on the monitor." Clint says, though still… that's not a bad shot all things considered. He dabs at his brow with the collar of his shirt, his features a touch sweat-slick form the exertion of his training. But then he gives her a nod. "Alright, Shuri. I'll pass this on. Let me know if you need anything else from me. Otherwise I'll get it to the right folks."
That said he extends a hand towards her to shake.

"Even with the camera, it's a very tricky shot… how did you atnticipate the movement of people to not hit them or the moveent of earth at that stretch you had to shoot through?"

"Even with the camera, it's a very tricky shot… how did you atnticipate the movement of people to not hit them or the moveent of earth at that stretch you had to shoot through?" Shuri gives to note as she shakes the hand of Clint, smiling some. "Good to see you still kicking."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License