12722/A beer between thunder buddies

A beer between thunder buddies
Date of Scene:	08 September 2022
Location:	Avengers Mansion - Back Yard
Synopsis:	Thor and Clint share a beer, wax on metaphysical, philosophical, and on matters of other peoples heart. Avenger stuff, ya know.
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Clint Barton

---

Thor has posed:
    There's something to be said about the peace one can draw on in the simple act of sitting down and watching the world go by.
    Just the way one can take their ease out in the light of the mid-day sun, reclining on the stoop of their chosen home and looking upon the yard before them like some microcosm of the world around them. Small, contained, immensely alive. And in the case of the Avenger's mansion... immaculately maintained. So many little creatures and insects and an entire ecosystem that knows nothing about the wild exploits of the people that choose to pass their time and dedicate themselves to the ideal that is the Avengers Initiative. It can make one reflect.
    Or, perhaps in this case, can be enjoyable just to smell the scent of newly cut grass. Though whatever introspection might be had, it likely ends when the wood and glass patio doors open with barely a sound though the footstep of the tall man who emerges is a good bit louder.
    Just a short thud-thump as the Asgardian Avenger steps out of the mansion itself onto that patio deck looking for the man that's settled on the steps before him. "It's not the best beer I've had since I've arrived on Midgard..."
    Thor steps forwards, brown work boots still clomp-clomping a bit. He looks more like the guy who would cut the lawn than an alien traveler, considering he wears the basic uniform of the modern Midgardian. That being blue jeans, white t-shirt, and a grey hoodie. He extends a bottle sidelong as he smiles and murmurs, "But this John Adams, he makes a passable brew."

Clint Barton has posed:
There's been a lot of time for introspection over the last few weeks for one Clint Barton. Where he's seen several different realms, countless combat scenarios that are, arguably, well and truly outside his depth and somehow managed to come out the otherside despite what sime would call being immensely outclassed by his contemporaries. See, Barton is something of an anomoly amongst the Avengers, who for the most part are either so strong as to defy reason or so smart they can defy physics.

And Clint is just a dude.

With a bow.

Obviously that's an over simplification of what sets him apart, but the truth is right there... He'll get old, his physical body will deteriorate, and yet here he sits on the stoop with giants. Gods and Icons of the modern world.

He glances back from reading a SHIELD data file when Thor makes his appearance from inside the mansion, grinning at the blonde haired God of Thunder with a series of short nods, "He does.. wasn't too shabby as a president either... Figuratively speaking anyways." Easy to get caught in the sliding scale of 'all men' and who was and was not created equally back then.

He reaches up for one of the beers and sets his reader aside. "You should try the summer ale. I always hate seasonal brews, but as far as one goes, it's not too shabby."

Thor has posed:
    "I had not met him," Thor offers as to his unfamiliarity though he nods, "But I shall take your word." For clearly Clint has. Or at the least knows a good bit more. Then he eases down onto the stoop beside the archer, grumbling a little as he knee crackles just a touch then he's leaning and resting his arms on those same knees, holding the bottle in both hands as he looks across the back yard of that famed mansion.
    "This is not their Summer ale?" He asks with a quirk of an eyebrow turning the label around so he can consider it, but indeed no special notations on it to proclaim it is such a beast. "Pity that, I shall have to endeavour to find a case or two for the embassy."
    Then he tilts his head to the side, "How fare you, Barton? You have been sorely tested these last few weeks and come through well."

Clint Barton has posed:
"He was kind of a big deal in the eighteenth century... later part." Clint waves his hand to the left as if that's where the later part would be on the chronology of physical representation relative to his seated position. He snickers and tilts the beer back to peer at the label, then slugs a hard swallow from the bottle, bracing it against the inside of his ankle on the step below where he's seated.

"Nah, this is their pilsner. Not bad, but I've got a micro brewery back at my Ranch. I'll bring you a cask of the next batch." If he ever gets time off, anyways. Lord knows that's few and far between.

Drawing his hand across his jaw at the question and commentary, he nods.. slowly at first, exagerated as if he's not sure he's being honest, but decides to go with it anyways. "I'm good. I knew there was more out there..." Pointing up at the sky absently, "Didn't realize how much. Humbling to see it... even more humbling to realize most of it can kick your ass without trying very hard." Another smirk and a clipped cant of his head.

"How about you? Seems like you're spinning a lot of plates, bud."

Thor has posed:
    The Thunderer follows along with Clint's words, nodding a few times as he considers. Then mention of the eighteenth century has him lifting his head as his blue eyes distance as he perhaps finagles a few calculations. Whether or not he's successful in figuring out exactly when that was is unclear as he simply nods in a way he would have nodded either way.
    A sip of his own beer is taken, "I would be thankful for that, Sif has a ranch now as well did you know that?"
    Those words delivered with no small amount of incredulity what with his eyebrows raised and his expression clearly confuzzled as to why one would do such a thing. "She's breeding horses I believe. Making her place in this world with such ease. Envious of you both." His lip twists up a little, expression warm.
    But then his eyes lift a little when Clint wanders down the path of realization about the universe being larger than one can imagine. His own nod is given then albeit slowly as he bites his lower lip in reflection. Only for his eyes to widen a little when Clint turns the inquiry back toward him. "Myself? Passingly well. I am doing as I can, most of you are doing the hard work. I just..." He half-grins and holds a hand up then makes a gesture forward, "Point our friends in the right direction and we end up rushing off together."
    His eyes unfocus again as something seems to drift through his thoughts. Yet he gives no word to it. Instead... he changes direction. "You know I felt much the same way as you must right now. When I was younger." A pause, "I know hard to imagine the Mighty Thor as daunted by anything." His smile turns a little self-deprecatingly wry.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Huh... you know that doesn't surprise me as much as I would have thought before fighting with her.. and I honestly can't figure out why." Clint says of Sif breeding horses, "She just seems the type to-" He waves his hands as if the exact word he wants doesn't immediately spring to mind, "-fit in? Assemalate. Something-" Then he snaps and points, "-Acclimate. She ^acclimates to her surroundings."

As for himself, "I have some horses. When I bought it, on my second... no third retirement..., I was going to run cattle. Except there's no cattle in Ohio. At least, not the way you see in the movies. That's more out west or down in Texas" Which begs the question; why Ohio. Or rather, it does for him. And it's a question with no answer.

Because he certainly doesn't have a good, or easy, answer for it.

Rubbing at his jaw after another slog of beer, resettling the bottle against his leg. "I knew it was pretty big, don't get me wrong. All things are perspective anyways... I always went from one battle to the next, right here on Earth- Midgard. And that was pretty big, but then you find out there's other beings up there and they kind of want to screw around and find out too." Nodding to the sky.

Then he snickers, "Son of Odin and all that. I suppose you had one hell of a shadow cast over you.. lots of expectations, jumping in feet first right into the deep end. I can imagine it was a lot to take in, but I cannot imagine it took you very long to figure it out."

"Or at least to start punching it."

Thor has posed:
    "I have not been to Ohio either," Thor says as he looks thoughtful once again, though he smiles a little easier. "When you look at Asgard so much of our home is... not settled. It's still in many ways a wild land."
    He tilts his head to look back at Clint, "But here you and yours have done well taming the land. Prolific." He nods again, then takes a drink from his beer, now holding it with both hands by the neck and casually letting it swing a bit.
    Then as Clint explains his view of the world and how it progressed. One battle to the next, always looking ahead. Thor smiles and nods a few times slowly, just that casual rhythmic nod of acceptance and understanding. Until his smile broadens at the mention of 'Son of Odin' and he lifts a hand as if to stay things there.
    "I'm still figuring it out, Clint." There's a soft exhale from the man that would perhaps be a laugh if he gave it a little more energy. "At first... I was a horrible arrogant little know-it-all. Son of Odin but in the worst way. Entitled, felt the world was there for me to just... do as I wished."
    He looks up toward the sky and tooks a sip, "I don't blame Loki for how he views our shared childhood. I was horrible to him at times." Then he holds up the bottle a little as if trying to make a point. "But."
    He takes a deep breath then looks sidelong toward Clint, "I learned quickly there are many things out there that are bigger than oneself, stronger, faster. Main thing I found that helped? Being able to get back up again."
    A nod.
    He adds with a half-smile, "And yes, of course. The punching. So much punching."

Clint Barton has posed:
"A whole lot of open land, Ohio. I don't really think anyone means to stay there, but that's humanities strongest quality." Clint lifts his beer and points, both with the lip of the bottle and a finger extending out from around it, "We adapt to almost any situation presented to us. I guess all living creatures do, to some degree or another, but looking at human history from an objective standpoint-" He hefts a shallow shrug and tosses another drink back in that short span between words, wiping his lip with the knuckle of his thumb, "-we came a very long way in a very short time. Shaved apes to ... slightly smarter shaved apes."

An easy enough grin that's just a shade away from a smirk.

Nodding along with Thor's assessment of himself, "I've never met a child who wasn't, at some level, an arrogant little shit. I wasn't royalty by any measure, but booooy howdy was a piece of work when I was a kid. Didn't have parents, didn't have any positive role models.. I think about that-" The bottle settles back down against his boot. "-how you change one thing in a person's life and they become completely different. My brother died." Which is his catalyst, glancing over as he says so about the same measure as Thor with Loki.

"Not really the same, I suppose, but if things had played out very differently for you and Loki, how different would you be now?"

As for bigger and stronger? Clint laughs and nods, both nodding and shaking his head, "Don't I damn know it. A dude in a hardhat almost took my head off with a half a dumpster last week. And that was just a tuesday." But here he sits. "Ice baths help too... once you stand up I mean." He slaps his right knee indicatively.

Thor has posed:
    A small chuckle is heard as Thor shakes his head, taking another sip as he spends a good few moments just listening to Clint, not interrupting, not offering his own little bits here or there. He just looks sidelong at the archer and follows along with the spare nod now and again.
    Though at the mention of apes it looks like he might be about to say something in defense of humanity's trip from apedom but he just shakes his head a little and takes another drink.
    Until at the end there Clint laughs and a rough 'hah' is heard from Thor as well likely at the mention of the man with the hard hat.
    "I think," He finally offers, "That Loki would not accept that argument." His smile twists a little crooked, "I'm sorry brother, I had to torment you when you were skinny and awkward because it made us better men later."
    Though at that he smirks and shakes his head before he furrows his brow and levels his consideration on Clint. The man himself.
    "You've done remarkably well you realize? You are a storied soul, Clint Barton. You're a man of strong repute, and despite the challenges you have excelled."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint isn't usually a talker, at least in regards to his personal beliefs on humanity. Maybe because nobody ever asks him, but just as likely he's always been on the frontlines rather than the arm chair with the generals. Oh and because he's a smart ass.

He grins sidelong and cants his head when Thor starts to speak and stops, but laughs along with the Thunderer's observations on how the conversation with Loki might go. "You know him better than I do, but apologies do have a way of paving the way.. I've honestly never met him, at least not at any lengths. But-" He lifts his beer, "-Might not be a bad start to sooth old nerves?"

Now he's a therapist.

Not really though..

"I heard once a very cliche saying that all evil needs to succeed is for good people to do nothing. I can't run faster than a bullet like Steve or command electronics like Tony.. but if I sat at home and did nothing?" He starts to sip the beer, but pauses. Staring off at the yard for a second before continuing, "I'd probably be fat, but my knees wouldn't hurt every morning.." He chuckles at himself and shakes his head.

"I'd be miserable though. Knowing I let other people do when I could and didn't. My brother use to say, 'most people see a mouse trap, Clint sees free cheese and a challenge.'" Then he takes a drink and rests his forearms on his thighs.

"I do love cheese."

Thor has posed:
    "There are worse fates," Thor offers, smiling pleasantly as he lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Still not used to the short hair since he had a good bit of it burned off a few weeks ago. Now at least it's back to a bit more than stubble, but still a little bedraggled. "For all you have done none would begrudge you if you took time for yourself. Even the greatest warrior puts his sword down at the end of their war."
    Then he tilts his head, "However I would prefer you didn't. For purely selfish reasons of course." He leans to the side and turns his hips a little, more facing Clint but not quite directly. Perhaps just taking his ease a little better as he leans against the rail that brackets the stairs.
    "I find myself missing those old days even though it has been what? Ten years? Five? Seemed like we were so..." His words trail off as his gaze lifts upwards, then he sort of half-smiles sardonically at himself as he murmurs, "So young? Though I know that is foolish. But when we started as Avengers. Those... were perhaps the best years of my life."
    A beat, then he adds. "So far at the least."

Clint Barton has posed:
"I sneak off when I need to." Clint assures, half grinning. For a man with no powers he has a knack for disappearing where nobody can find him when he puts his mind to it. Pointing off at the edge of the yard, "Few days at the ranch every other week. Ride horses, watch a football game... I've got opening day tickets to the Buckeyes game this weekend." Clints hair is getting a little shaggy, compared to his usual high and tight... and he may be letting his facial hair go. Something about honorary dwarf or whatever.

He drags his palm across it absently, nails tracing down the center of his throat, then settles it back on his leg. "I'm not going anywhere. Retirement doesn't suit me. Besides, who'll complain about being too old for this shit if I'm not here? Steve? He's like a hundred. He was too old for this before I was even born."

He too shifts, one leg coming up to rest on the stoop beside him while the other remains on the step down. With his shoulder resting against the oposite railing to Thor. He nods along with that observation too.. squinting at the bottle dangling from his fingers.

"Avengers need something to Avenge. Sometimes it feels like we're going through the motions now, you know? Trying to hold onto something that's gone.. Not that I'd trade being part of this group for anything, but like you said-" Flicking his fingers up, "-at the end of their war.. I'd love to see us all out there again, making a difference."

His head lulls back, half turning towards the yard, "But I agree with you. Having people beside you fighting for a cause that means something has a way of making you feel younger. Like you can do absolutely anything... Which is why I'm glad you've let me come along with you all. Reminds me of better times."

Thor has posed:
    "You have been more than welcome, Barton." Thor's smile is warm as his eyes distance, likely thoughts traveling down those shared paths that had gone before in their earlier times. Then he looks back.
    "I think it's..." Thor had listened to all of what Clint had said, had followed along and at the end nodded as he worried the inside of his cheek, as if that somehow would reveal the answer. "Perhaps the world is at another point, it's emerged, embraced the changing of the times. We were there to help it survive to reach where it is now. And now with the emergence of so many others..."
    He motions with the bottle, "Perhaps we are not as needed as we once were. But is that truly a thing to be mourned? For that is the success we fought for. Making sure the world lived to reach this point."
    Then another drink of his beer and he smirks askance toward Clint, "Not a bad legacy to have."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint doesn't disagree, squinting up at what remains of the evening sun above this little section of New York, "Maybe we should relocate to Gotham. That place needs avenging more than any other place on earth.." That's an obvious and deliberate joke, completely with a smirk and a tilt of his head into a shrug. "Nah, not a bad one at all. Far as legacies go. We saved the planet, we inspired a new generation of countless heroes who've stepped up to protect the people here?"

He rattles his bottle, the quiet sloshing of beer before another swallow. "I kind of wish my action figure had sold a little better, but that's just me being selfish on those lacking royalty checks." It's obviously never been about comensation for him.

Though the ranch came from somewhere...

"Like you said, there's always someone out there who can swing faster and hit harder. When they show up, they're going to run smack into a well rested group of absolute badasses." At that, he motions betwixt them, but likely means the whole of the Avengers.

"Until then, we've got a good view and good folks to share stories with."

Thor has posed:
    "You realize that Stark likely would be able to..." Thor gestures with his own bottle, as if the uttering of the name might summon the fellow himself. "Conjure forth some suitable effort or reason that you would be given more prominence or... business?" He offers that last word, not sure indeed how certain aspects of the mortal world works.
    "Natasha showed me one of my own little statues and it seemed roughly done but children apparently enjoy it." Which has the Asgardian shaking his head as he slightly frowns with his eyebrows risen, incredulous at the minds of the young.
    But then when he mentions the likelihood of new evil-doers encountering the Avengers and been smote! Well he lifts his bottle, "I shall drink to that." And if allowed he'll clink it against Clint's and drinks the last.
    Then, out of nowhere, topic change!
    "So Steve broke up with Janet apparently."

Clint Barton has posed:
"I considered that, yeah.. But then I'd work for Tony." Clint says this with no small amount of mirth, even laughing quietly at the statement et al. No telling what Stark would come up with for him to do, but it's likely it wouldn't be something usually in Barton's wheelhouse.

"Mmm, yeah. You had the second most bought Halloween costume last year, too." The archer points out with a snicker, "Complete with You are worthy light up Mjolnir." Whether that's true or not, it definitely amuses him immensely.

His beer is held out to clink against the Thunderers and then finishes off the remaining in the bottle. Absently tossing it back over his shoulder with a lazy disinterest... it hits the rem of a standing trashcan and tumbles into the garbage bag within.

"I heard. It was all over social media.. Can't imagine there's not more of a story to that, they seemed pretty happy... but I reckon anyone in that much public scurtiny would?" Relationships be trippin'.

Thor has posed:
    "I did?" Thor asks with those same risen eyebrows again.
    And then he sort of shakes his head a little while smiling, oh so pleased with that for some reason. But then he clears his throat as he looks sidelong toward Clint, "I mean, it is... surely just happenstance. Who knows how the minds of mortal youths work?" Still, he does seem pleased.
    But then they consider the topic of Janeven? Stevenet? He gives a small grunt of acknowledgment of the weight of such a relationship and what they had to endure. "I know it likely took a toll on them. I feel like I should do something but then when my mind wanders that way I often come back around to the likelihood that the smartest thing would be for me to do nothing."
    A pause as he nods slowly, "And doing nothing mislikes me."

Clint Barton has posed:
"You did." Clint assures with a smirk, "Got a bunch of little Thor's at my door that night. Including one adorable little girl." He settles himself against the railing for the follow up and laughs, "I don't think there's a mind on earth smart enough to figure out the minds of children. Ask any parent who has ever tried to raise one... Hell, I bet that's something every people from every planet share.. Kids are strange."

As for Janeven, Clint sucks in a long breath, puffing out his chest with arms laid across it. "I'm terrible at relationship advice. Half of mine feel like it was someone else and I'm just living with the fallout.. and the one that was me? Didn't end so well." He laughs quietly and shakes his head at Thor being misliked by doing nothing.

"But... we could take Steve out for some beers? That seems like a start on the healing path."

Thor has posed:
    "That sounds like a good idea to me." Thor says with some emphasis on those last few words, nodding a few times as if something has been decided. "We'll have to embark on that path soon." He takes a deep breath then slaps his hands on his thighs.
    "For now, however. I should make some use of myself." He looks sidelong toward Clint and murmurs, "I need to speak with Diana about our use of the starport for when we secure enough of the artifacts. No idea her reaction, though I hope she will be amenable to it. Or perhaps point us down another path."
    That said he pushes himself to his feet, rising with a roll of his shoulders causing a faint crackle of his joints. Then he nods, "You have your cellular device? I keep forgetting mine. Perhaps you would be so kind as to call him and arrange a suitable... time?"

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint pushes on his knees, habitually standing alongside Thor when the Thunderer rises, "I'm sure she'll be as eager to help as the rest of us. Whatever form it takes.. She's got a vested interest in seeing these artifacts put to good use."

The archer doesn't crack and pop, but that's only because he's not stretching. Lord help the sensitive ears if he straightens his back out too much, "I do.. Is it bad that I always imagine him using a rotary phone? One of those old ones... with the big dial on the front.." Just incase Thor doesn't know precisely what it is he means.

He laughs at the thought himself, "I'll give him a call and let you know what he says. If you need anything, you know where I am." A hand out to clasp with the Gods, before they depart.

Thor has posed:
    The hand is taken and a strong warrior's forearm shake is given as the two men make to part. "We'll talk again soon, Clint." And that said he holds his other hand out and awaits the return of Mjolnir...
    Then murmurs, "Hm, I wonder where I left it this time..."
    Distantly there is the sound of glass crashing somewhere far off and away.