1035/One of Us

One of Us
Date of Scene:	07 April 2020
Location:	Suite 01: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Clint inducts Mikhail into SHIELD. Training and talks about the past and future ensue.
Cast of Characters:	Clint Barton, Mikhail Uriokovitch

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Clint Barton has posed:
This was a first for Clint, being made someones Supervisory Officer, his role was sort of specialized in SHIELD and lay largely out of the regular chain of command. So, he tended to miss this sort of thing, though in the case of one Mikhail Uriokovitch, SHIELD felt Clint was the right man for the job. Clint didn't argue, he'd liked what he saw of the guy when they met during the man's defection, and the videos he'd seen of Mikhail's power assessments didn't make him like him any less.

So folder in one hand and a bottle of good vodka in the other, Clint knocked on Mikhail's door to give him the good (or bad) news.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik opens the door, he is actually awake, though since he last saw Clint he has started growing a veteran beard. He opens the door and geatures to a vacant chair as he sits in a different one. "Agent Barton, it is good to see you again. I was told to expect you, something about you losing bet."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint follows Mik inside looking around the very standard room the Russian had been given. He didn't miss living in SHIELD barracks. He hands over the bottle to Mik, "A little welcome gift, Nat said it was a good brand," he explains before taking a seat.

There's a smile for the thing about the bet, "Actually pretty stoked about this, to be honest," Clint explains. "You seemed like a good guy, and man, that footage of you taking on a whole STRIKE team during your assessment, a classic," he grins at that. "But beyond the powers you've got a lot of skills from your time in Russia that is going to make this whole training period a breeze, so I guess they're starting me off easy."

He looks over to Mik. "But before we get you to sign on the dotted line, just wanted to be sure this is what you wanted, you're free now man, you can do whatever you want. Just because we took you in doesn't mean you owe us your service or anything. Just wanted that to be clear."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail appraises the bottle for a moment and gives a look of approval before giving it the place of honkr on the top shelf witha crystal skull and a couple of others. He actually laughs at the talk of the assessment, "did you tell them I would turn into bear, or did they simply crap their pants without that knowledge?" He grins and leans back in his seat, his tone sobering a little, "I admit my skills are limited compared to most civilians, but my time here has shown me SHIELD is always working to do right thing for right reasons, as opposed to being tool of government. He gestures to the glasses on a shelf, "Care for drink? But, yes, this is what I want. Best to put skills and training to good use."

Clint Barton has posed:
"Sure," Clint says of the drink, he was on duty, but one shot wasn't going to kill him besides being sociable was part of the job. "And we told them, but I sort of got the feeling they thought we were joking until you changed shape and pants started getting crapped." He grins.

There's a nod for Mikhail's reasons, "Yeah, a lot of good people here doing a lot of good things," he agrees. "Though, we do our share of dirt too, it's for good reasons, but it doesn't make it any less dirty," his nose wrinkles at it. "But if you can live with that, then we're happy to have you, man."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Muk grabs the two glasses and pours the drinks from the gifted bottle. He grins at the mention of the team. "I expect dirt, it is dirty job. But you at least say you have dirt and are honest." He takes a sip, Very well, I fight for SHIELD."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint takes the drink with a nod, "Na Zdorovie," he says lifting his glass to Mik before he downs the shot like a pro. How can you tell Clint's got a Russian partner?

"Great," Clint says putting down the folder and opening it for Mik. "So, I understand one of the Adminions were down here going over this with you already, but take another look if you want. Anyhow, once you're onboard, I'll be acting as your supervisory officer, which means I'll be running you through some more assessments getting you set up with training, basically making sure you can hit all our benchmarks before we hand you a badge and the real fun begins. Sound good?"

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail shows approval of Clint taking the shot like a champ. The former Russian agent looks over the forms, and after a few moments initials and aigns where he needs to, "Very well, this will do. Besides, more training can not hurt, still a little rusty from when they put me in cooler. When do I start training?"

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint nods back at the approval, before he lets the man look over the paperwork. It's all standard stuff, nothing switched out from when the agent from admin had gone over it with Mikhail. As to when training begins? Clint checks his watch, one of those fancy Fitbit style things, "Well got an open couple of hours coming up, so," he looks from the watch to Mik. "As soon as you sign your name on those papers we can hit the gym. Might need to see if Tony can get us some of the stuff we have at the Mansion before anything down there will give you a real challenge though."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail takes a few moments and applies his signature to the last few things, still using Cyrillic characters, "Da. This works for me." He passes the papers back over to Clint. "Do I need to bring anything? I am assuming my go-bag will be needed, it has spare change of clothes for if I need to go bear."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint takes a moment to look over the papers when they're handed back. "Looks good," he says, extending a hand to Mik. "Welcome to SHIELD," he grins.

The papers are put down and Mik's trainee lanyard is handed over with the orange and grey badge on the end with the reflective old-school SHIELD logo printed on one side.

"And yeah, good idea, re the go bag," he grins, eager to see the man's powers at work.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik takes his lanyard and puts it on, "So it is official, good." He grins and rises, looming over the smaller agent, "Very well, go bag it is." He walks over to a pile and grabs one of the gym bags in the corner. He slings it over his shoulder and says, "Mostly spare clothes." The Russian walks over to the fridge labeled "Water" in Russian and pulls out a water bottle that was kept in there, "We go, now?"

Clint Barton has posed:
"All official," Clint says with a smile as he picks up the folder again standing and tucking it under his arm. He nods, about the bag and the 'water', then heads for the door leading the way. "Yep, we go now," he says.

"So, we looked over that intel you gave us about arms sales on that island in the Caspian, it's definitely a solid lead, we're thinking about getting something together for that. You want in?" he says. "We could use you for you and for the info you have about how this sort of thing operates."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"Excellent," Mik says with some mirth and follows Clint out the door, listening as he describes the results of the intelligence, "Indeed, it was on our watch list in Winter Guard, for different reasons, but da, I wish to go, partly because I do not trust so many of your group's Russian." He snorts, "It would certainly help a bit, I think."

Clint Barton has posed:
"Well if Nat's with us you can be pretty sure, the rest?" Clint hand wobbles a little bit. "Depends from agent to agent. Ward? Sure, he can talk like a native. Me? I can say cheers and a bunch of dirty swear words I picked up from Nat."

"Speaking of, the three of us should grab a bite sometime, just to relax a bit. I'm sure both of you could do with some company from the old country."

He leads the way to the gym, and as they enter a few people look up, Clint was something of a legend in SHIELD and since his testing, Ursa Major had become something of one too. "Think you've got a fan club, big guy," he says. "What do you feel like trying today?" he asks looking around the expansive gym.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik nods, "As expected, I had heard rumors of her, but was uncertain that it was her. Though it seems you know most important words, then. Also real food would be good, some borscht would go a long way." A laugh. He then ponders and looks at the onlookers and then says to Clint, "More legendary would be poor laundry worker who had to clean pants." A snort in amusement follows, "But if we are to try something, let's go for run."

Clint Barton has posed:
Now it's Clint's turn to laugh, "Fair enough," he says of the poor laundry guy. He had /not/ thought of that. He was going to need to pour some out for that guy later. Right now he gives Mik a nod, "Run works," he says and leads the way to the indoor track, rimmed with false windows with projections of outside on them while providing the runners with protection and anonymity. They still felt off to Clint there was no warmth there, just the image of sunlight.

He starts off at a jog, "We'll set up that outing then," he says. "Might bring my girlfriend, she's got a knack for languages from your part of the world. Probably dig the food too."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail nods and stretches for a few seconds, "Indeed, should be fun, glad to speak with someone who is civilized." The last bit clearly meant in jest, "And of course food will be good!" Once Clint starts jogging, Mikhail keeps pace for the time being, though not with the same stamina he has had in the past, having grown a little soft in his time at SHIELD so far.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint "Hehs," at the civilized bit and gets running. "So, anything you want to see now that you're free and in America?" he asks the man, curious what appeals to someone not from the country. For him, the idea of anything American being even romotely exotic is laughable. Well, maybe New Orleans, but New Orleans was weird. "Can probably hook that up for you easily enough."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik ponders for a bit on that question and tries to match Clint's speed. After a few moments he says, "New Orleans would be good, but to see Hollywood, San Fancisco, Texas, or well parts of it, and then maybe even Alaska at some point." he thinks for a little longer, "Where are you from, if that is not bother?"

Clint Barton has posed:
"Been to all of those, so if you need a guide, I'm your man," Clint says of Hollywood, San Fran, Texas and Alaska. Really liked Alaska. Something about that wilderness."

As for where he was from? "Iowa, Waverly specifically, a decent town, whole place smells like chocolate. How about you? Where are you from in Russia?"

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik nods, "Then, yes, trip is in order, someday. Though going to Alaska might feel little like home." He listens and raises a brow, "Smells like chocolate? Strange. I grew up in small village in Siberia, though that was until I was sent to school to become weapon."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint nods, "Yep, like chocolate, there's a chocolate factory in town, gets the whole place smelling like chocolate when the wind is right," he shakes his head. "Made me sick of it by the time I got out of there."

"Wow, must have been wild after you got out of there, how old were you when you left? I was like, 12 when I left Waverly."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"I can believe that," Mik says and keeps running, "Familiarity tends to do that, for good or ill." He sighs, "I was five when I was taken from my parents. Spent next thirteen years in Phobos school, then forced into Soviet Army until I was put in freezer."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint grimaces, "Jesus, five? Wow. And I thought things were rough in my childhood," he says, shaking his head. "Did your family try to stop them, or was there nothing they could really do?" he asks.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"Only had mother, and when troops come saying they will take me to school instead of shooting me like other mutants, she did not have much choice," Mikhail's usually stony or jovial tone is now gone, a slight crack in her resolve, "But I do not blame her, she did best she could with what little choice she had."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint nods somberly to that, "Well, for what it's worth, glad you're finally free, Mik, I can call you Mik right?" he asks, which for Clint is fairly rare. "Any family left in the present?" he asks him. "If so, or if you don't know, Daisy could probably find out."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik somberly nods, "You may, it is far easier than Agent Uriokovitch," he gives a small snort of amusement, "For some reason I am afraid that anyone stuck writing my name hates it." He thinks a little and then shakes his head, "No, no known remaining kin, it is part of reason I left, they could not hurt me by going after family or friends, mother I have not heard from since I left and had no siblings."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint grins, "Mik it is."

And a somber nod about Mik's family. "Fair enough, got a brother that may be dead, so, know how that goes, man. Anyhow, let's turn up the speed a bit and see how fast we can really go."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail smiles and nods, "Go faster, you say? Consider it done." With that, Mikhail's exposed skin begins to grow hair and his form expands over ten seconds as he takes to his ursine form and begins running with the unexpected speed of a bear.