Summary:Clint is down in the shooting range which suddenly becomes popular Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The night before was rough. It had been steady, moving along at an even keel and then out of nowhere they'd had that alarm. An explosion just blocks away, near the Asgardian embassy. SHIELD personnel had responded and things went well, relatively. Some of the agents likely had been talking about how it all went down. Rumors had been running up and down the hallways. Explosion, two operatives for the bad guys put down, and apparently there was a sniper that Barton put down with some sort of miracle shot. Though when he returned, his combat suit had been damaged and he'd apparently taken a good thump on the noggin.
But he didn't remain too long in medbay. It was a waste of time, things to do. Run down some leads, review the footage from the drone cameras, even check in on some of the injured. But once that was all done, Clint found himself down in the sub-level training area, the collapsible bow once again in his hand with a whole bevy of arrows spread out upon the table before him. The motorized target whirs back and forth at its full extension down the way, and he seems to be pondering it from afar. Not shooting, just looking at it.
"Man," The archer frowns, shaking his head and rubbing at his ear as if that might make the ringing go away. It doesn't.
The shooting ranges are one of Kelly's favorite places! OK. Not really. But she's been putting time in here because she's being assigned to field ops and, well, she should know how to shoot. So she's been working on it. At least she often has a personal tutor with a sense of humor.
But today Kelly's by herself. One of SHIELD's many science sorts, she doesn't have the face or name recognition as the field guys. Nor does she run important areas like Jemma. If she's got any notoriety with those that don't cross into her field of Brain Computer Interface, or BCI, it's likely from her much more known and recognizable boyfriend, Roy Harper.
Anyone that does read her jacket would know why she's always got on long sleeves and gloves. To hide the silver-chrome liquid-metal arms that allow her to interface directly with most computer systems. Some of her early research that went a little too well.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see the area was occupied. This one's usually empty this time of day." The redhead gives Clint a smile, dimples appearing as she does so. Then she seems to notice his frown and leans in a bit. "Are you alright?"
It's a slight turn to the side that heralds Clint's attention shifting. His blue eyes settle on the youthful redhead and for a moment it might seem he's looking a touch past her or through her. But then his smile is seen, and though it's late it reaches his eyes. "Oh hey,"
A quick glance over towards the array of arrows, to the bow in his hand, he holds up the other hand and tells her. "Yeah, nah it's fine." His brow beetles for a moment, then he looks back.
For a few moments his eyes focus upon her fully, then he murmurs, "You're one of the tech kids, right?" Yes, clearly that's their official title. "Do me a favor?"
And before she can likely answer he'll casually toss that bow underhanded to her, just a gentle throw as the high-tech weapon crosses the distance towards her. "Something feels off about it. I can't pinpoint what. It took a knock the other night. Not sure why it seems off."
And should she consider the collapsible motorized bow she might be surprised to see just how elaborate the interface is, twinned to the quiver and displaying a curious interface when the eye is at a particular level.
Kelly Dehaven's mouth presses into a line with some annoying at being called 'kid'. Of course, she is pretty damned young but it's a sore spot for her, given the number of times she was the literal kid in a room full of guys three times her age or more.
If the redhead was willing to do the favor or not, the bow comes her way and she scrambles to catch what she knows is an expensive damned piece of equipment. Though it *is* rated for a lot more abuse than just hitting the floor. Glancing from Clint to his bow, she she turns it over a few times before holding it in one hand and stripping off one of her gloves with the help of her teeth. The bow switches hand, the chrome-finish surface of her hand rippling a bit as it flows around the bow's grip to find the access ports and link up. Fine silver striations in Kelly's green eyes bloom as she sets it to run the diagnostics in her head. "Even when they're rated for impact, it's not hard for something to get out of whack."
"Can say that for a lotta things I imagine," Clint says reflectively, gaze slipping to the side. Eyebrows lifting a bit he turns his attention back towards her. "Appreciate you taking a glance. I take it down to Simmons right now and do all the things, and chances are I won't make it outta the office for a good chunk of time."
There, if things are being recorded in the Triskelion (if, hah) then Simmons will finally have evidence towards the truth that yes he sometimes does avoid her.
That having been said he folds his arms over his chest and helps with the diagnosis by offering something towards the symptoms. "I had another fella look at it and there was apparently some sort of OS conflict between the bow's connection with the quiver. But it still feels…" A beat, features twisting a little as he offers the technical term, "Mushy?"
Elsewhere, in the building, Roy was playing some Lynyrd Skynyrd and was working on one of the SHIELD vehicles, quietly sharing in a bit of playful banter with Kelly through their mind link when he suddenly gets a /ping/ when Kelly links up with the bow. « Whoa. HELLO. » comes the sudden response as she feels a second set of 'eyes' on the bow.
« It's not even my birthday! » of course he would think he would think the bow was his, when he sits up more fully, and starts to look over the schematics a bot more. "No. Not right." he says to himself. « The cam isn't rated for the arm.. » then he pauses. « This isn't a bow for me, is it? » Is that a moment of jealosy? Naw. Couldn't be.
"True. The most common being the human head." Kelly remarks a bit dryly, but also distractedly. Now she's got a conversation with Clint, a conversation with Roy, and the bow's diagnostics. Good thing she excels at multitasking.
As Roy starts to peek over, Kelly feeds him the information more directly. At least he's gotten some experience under his belt in the way Kelly can share information through her telepathy. "« Sorry, no. »" Kelly apologises mentally. "« Someone asked me to take a look at theirs down at the shooting range. »" There's a sort of long-suffering amusement to that. Field guys are forever interrupting the eggheads for things because clearly, they have nothing better to do.
"Yeah, a conflict like that shouldn't get you that effect. I can check on that as well though." Stepping over to Clint, Kelly hands him the bow back. He might notice the silver caps in the input jacks. "Do me a favor and shoot it again so I can watch the system?"
Picking up on Roy's jealousy, she points out: "« You still get to play with that bow London found, right? »" The one that had him leaving the lab in a hurry.
"Well it's partially the interface," Clint says and he reaches down to underneath that weapons deck on the firing range, a broad quiver resting there. He hefts it with one arm and sets it on the side of the shelf against the wall partially.
Leaning over to show her, he pulls the top off a middle column that divides the quiver into two portions, within on a mechanized belt feed system of some kind are many arrowheads. He hefts the bow and holds it before them, thumb lightly caressing part of the grip and bringing a small holographic display up that flicks through the options of those arrowheads. As he hits a selector two times the feeder mechanism in the quiver flows with a faint whirrrr and slightly extends one shaft above its brethren by half an inch.
"See, there." Clint says, "Took a bit longer than it should to activate." Which, really, maybe two tenths of a second worth of a delay? But to him it's too much.
He takes that extended shaft, now complete with apparently a tazer arrowhead. There's a quick and smooth motion, nocking, draw, fire. And down at the end of the range…. /THWOK!/
« Why have Errol Flynn when you already have Cary Ewles, right? » Roy offers self-depreciatingly over the link, before he considers the bow London left for him. « I haven't even had a chance to try it yet. Been just sticking with old reliable. » He's had it for years, and even though it's not quite right with his new arm, it's taking to some adjusting.
« Anyway. Isn't the bow I'm worried about someone playing with.. » What's self-confidence? And apparently it's not the suped-up bow that's got him feeling that moment of jealousy. « The oh, hey, take a look at my bow, and while you're at it, wanna see how well I can shoot bit. » Like he's never used that before.
« I bet he doesn't have a boxing glove arrow. »
"No one *wants* a boxing glove arrow, even if it's an amazing feat of aerodynamics." Kelly says to herself as she reaches out her ungloved hand to find the linkups to the quiver as well. She's talking to Roy, but since she's distracted she says it out loud as well. Most of her attention is on the systems she's 'watching'. It also gives her a distant sort of stare as she's focused on what's in her head, which Roy can play along at home and watch.
"Hmm. That's definitely off-spec, yes." Kelly lives with her head in machines, and two tenths of a second is huge. "Hold on. Let me reboot the systems…" Not that she's *touching* anything, just sort of staring off into space.
"« Oh have you now? »" Kelly replies dryly as Roy admits to having used these tactics before. "« And I asked him so I could watch the system, not him. »" While she's teasing him a bit, she's also keeping an eye on his emotions. Roy's got a quick trigger.
"A wha?" Clint says, one eye scrunching a bit at that curious phrase to come from Kelly. He mouthes the word 'boxing glove arrow' to himself, but perhaps figures that well… it's probably a reference to something youngish folks get up to these days, or some euphemism. So he exhales a breath slightly in what might be a laugh if it was given more effort.
"Oh, by the way. Clint Barton." He touches a hand to his chest as he sets the bow down upon the weapons deck, turning to face her as she focuses. Though his own curiousity is piqued by watching her work and the way she's interfacing with the gear.
"So umm, what you're doing doesn't exactly seem standard issue."
« I'm betting it's a loose ball-bearing in the lower cam. » Roy responds as he looks in on the first test. « But you know, geeks first response - turn it off and turn it back on. » he fires back. « Let me close up on the patient here and I'll mosey down. »
With that, he returns his attention to quickly wrapping up the fluid check on the utility vehicle he was working on as he cleans up to prepare to head down, running a quick cycle diagnostic on the arm in the meantime.
Kelly may notice he's downloaded a playlist into the arm and is working on a speaker. Because of course he would.
Kelly Dehaven blinks at Clint, that distant stare re-focusing on him as he squints over at her. She runs her memory back and then blushes. Of course, because she's a redhead with fair skin, it's impossible NOT to see that blush. "Oh. Ohno. Sorry. I wasn't… Nothing. Just. Just ignore that." Kelly gives a firm nod, as though that puts things to bed.
When he introduces himself there's another blink. "Clint. Barton. Hawkeye?" Surprise. Startlement. Some embarrassment that she didn't realize who she was talking to beforehand. Roy picks up all of that across their mental link. Kelly is saved from standing there looking like a doof by Clint's followup comments. "Right, that's uh, one of the things SHIELD keeps me around for." She says with some forced levity. "I talk to computers, basically. Who does the maintenance on this? Could they check the bearings in the lower cam?" She's just parroting Roy there. Actual mechanical things aren't her area of expertise, but she doesn't want to say 'my boyfriend thinks:'. That would bring up another awkward conversation.
Clint crinkles his nose slightly, "Yeah," As if knowing that there's a decent enough chance that if someone recognizes his name it's likely for it to be a decent enough thing, then again also likely enough for it not to be. "Some reason they keep me kickin' around the place. Haven't gotten the gumption to throw me out yet." His lip twists slightly, though to be fair there are a fair amount of SHIELD brass that might like to get rid of the headache of one Clinton Francis Barton.
"Seems handy though." He gestures with a nod towards her enhancements and then his attention is shifted towards the bow itself when she elaborates on the situation. "Yeah they could, or I could prolly." He answers her question then smiles gratefully. "Thanks though, I'll follow that angle."
« Someone's got a crusssh. » It's teasing in the back of Kelly's head, and Roy's hiding his own thoughts on the matter. Great. Probably the best known archer of them all. Besides the green doof he ran around with. He's paused, unsure of himself for just a moment, before he makes his way down to the firing range, the slide of the door announcing his presence.
"Oh. Hey. Didn't know there was people already here." Not that Clint needs to know that he and Kelly have been chatting the whole time. He stopped by the lab long enough to pick up the bow that Landon left him. "Figured I'd see what robot me is using for a weapon."
Kelly Dehaven's brows go up at Clint's reaction, and she can't help but smirk a bit, one dimple showing in her cheek. "You don't look like you're a fan of… fans. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm just sort of kicking myself for not recognizing you." He *is* one of the more notable SHIELD personalities. And like the equipment wasn't a dead giveaway?
There is the mental rolling of eyes at Roy's teasing. "« He's almost old enough to be my daaaaaad. »" She teases back. When Roy finally arrives on-scene, his comment gets a huff of amusement." Kelly's not great at keeping her reactions to her mental conversations entirely hidden, but maybe Clint isn't observant. And Hawkeye just sounded cool and wasn't appropriate or anything. Or maybe he'll figure it's because of the computer-talking. Hopefully.
"Clint Barton, this is Roy Harper." Kelly introduces them. "Who endlessly suffers my terrible marksmanship." At least she's getting better at hitting the target regularly!
"Ehn," Clint says with a half-smirk, "Just know that I have a tendency to sometimes rub folks the wrong way." And a list of enemies as long as his arm. But then the door opens down the way and through it comes another figure.
Roy's got one edge over the green doof, at least in Clint's opinion. For when Roy enters the range and walks down the way, the Avenging Archer looks up and tilts his head slightly, then smiles as he recognizes the man. "Harper? Roy Harper?"
A few steps takes him away from Kelly just enough to meet the man partially down the way, "Clint Barton, read your file. We're supposed to bust some heads together soon." He offers a hand forwards for a rather firm handshake if it's accepted. "Always a fan of someone with good taste in weaponry. You're a tough man ta find." Then again things have been a touch crazy of late.
Roy's a lean figure. The fight with heroin was a hard one and it took it's toll on the young man. His frame is almost too lean, too thin. He's finally getting some life back to his features. But the stark black of the artificial right arm is probably what stands out the most on his frame. "Oh hey. We are?" Apparently he's behind on the loop as he reaches out with the right arm to shake, just to remember that it was the artificial one. "Still getting used to that." comes the sheepish remark.
"Nice to meet you, Agent Barton." he finally allows, figuring out where he was going with his thoughts as the redhead runs his fingers through his red locks. He and Kelly could almost be twins, if she didn't fill out so much nicer than he does. And her eyes are a little brighter than his. "So about this thing. Did London leave you any kind of instruction manual, or is it just load and hope it works?"
Kelly Dehaven lifts her hands up, palms out. She's missing the glove on one of them, so it's all chromed-steel. "Totally out of my area!" She protests. "And he didn't leave one with me, no. I can try to hook into it, but it didn't have any obvious input jacks." Unlike Barton's equipment, which had then designed in. And that Kelly's forgotten she's still jacked into. Roy can be distracting like that.
The 'tech kid' waits for the pair to exchange greetings before she notes to Clint: "My area of expertise is Brain Computer Interfaces. I'm good with computers as part of that, but the mechanics and whatnot aren't what SHIELD keeps me around for."
"Yup," Agreeing with the statement that they're to work together, Clint gives a nod. "The yellow jump suit gang, me, you, London." His brow furrows as he looks to the side, gaze distancing. "Someone else. But would need to look at the file."
That said he turns towards Kelly, "I'll go follow up the loose bearing idea, once I get to a place I can break it down." He peers at her chest for a moment, most likely at her ID badge assuredly, then says. "Alright appreciate the help, Agent Dehaven. Thanks tons."
Then he gives a nod to Roy and says, "Come on by my office tommorrow? We'll get on the same wavelength about the next op. Exchange gear. Talk shop. Braid each other's hair. It'll be great." His lip twists as he grabs the quiver and the bow, shouldering each in turn.
"I didn't mean to chase anyone off.." Roy looks concerned for a moment, like her interrupted something. Not that it's helping him any, as he considers. Then he frowns. Blowing out a breath, he looks from Kelly and then back to Clint. "Sure, I can do that." he finally offers to Clint in response. He almost, almost mentions the possible maintenance issue on the bow.
But he keeps Kelly's secret to himself, just a quiet, "Police yourself." he reminds Kelly gently.
"Just Kelly is fine." The darker redhead assures Clint. "I start getting confused on what title I'm supposed to use with who when we start breaking them out." When is 'Dr.' more appropriate than 'Agent'? There's surely a whole book on it, but Kelly has better things to read. Like Roy's mind.
Speaking of Roy, his reminder has her startling a bit. "Oh! Right! Just let me…" Kelly moves over to Clint, reaching out to his bow and quiver so she can re-absorb the 'jacks' in the ports. "There we go. Sorry. I honestly don't get asked to do things outside of my lab." Where she'll have the equipment hook up to the computer that she's hooked up to. Not directly like this. Yes. And she'll totally remember.
"Kelly!" Clint points, commiting the name to memory. "Seeya later, Harper." That said, Barton backs into the door and pushes it open. He offers a final wave and then heads on out.