15157/Hush Hush

Hush Hush
Date of Scene:	16 June 2023
Location:	Rec/Training: Helicarrier
Synopsis:	Quiet and Hawkeye share some words on a very special birthday.
Cast of Characters:	Clint Barton, Quiet

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Clint Barton has posed:
The SHIELD Helicarrier has only just completed a return voyage from the Savage Land where it oversaw one of the biggest ground wars in the organization's history. Those who weren't aboard have spent the last few days shuttling back to their various billets, while resupply is carried out in earnest. All that isn't something Agent Barton need involve himself in, but it's the best time to get the training and recreation deck to himself.

He's eschewed the functional uniform-turned-costume, instead wearing an unadorned grey t-shirt and sweats. He holds a bow in one hand. Not his usual one, but rather something specifically for training. The target downrange has been struck in the dead center by a black-fletched arrow, which is in turn split down the center by another striking the exact same spot.

Clint takes a gulp of water from a bottle, sitting down to tug irritably at the bowstring with a creased brow.

Quiet has posed:
Agent Houston had been with the agency for a little over a year now, and though she's still largely a mystery to many, many yet still know that she's allegedly a mute. Not deaf, just not able to speak English. Why? Not many actually know the answer to that question, though Clint has maybe been told before... but whether or not he retained it is another question!

Either way, the young (looking) Agent Houston strides in to the range wearing a dark navy blue SHIELD tanktop and some black denim shorts, with a pair of black sneakers and no socks on her feet. It's quite a lot of skin showing for the average agent, but that too has a reason if one were to actually dig in to this eccentric member of the team. Overall though, her outfit looks more akin to someone who just came from the gym area, but she doesn't look as though she's been exercising, at least not yet.

She carries a black case that she sets down, opens up, and pulls a rather impressive looking Russian handgun from that she begins to prep for a go at the range. A glance is given over in Clint's direction and she offers him a rather warm smile before looking back to her gun.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Get's cold this high up," Clint answers, barely looking up from the bow he is messing with in order to offer a tigh smile in return, "Even in summer. Hope you brought a sweater."

He begins the arduous process of restringing the bow, pausing for a second before he furrows his brows and stairs off into the distance as though some great quandry passed through his head.

"'Hope you brought a sweater?' Well, mazel tov, Barton. You're officially someone's old mother."

He shoots Agent Houston another smile, more genuine this time, and points at the handgun.

"Now that's one I don't recognize which means it's a custom job or you go to a lot of gun shows."

Quiet has posed:
The comment about a sweater gets Houston to look up from the weapon, and its case. She waits a second before another little smile graces her pink hued lips and she shakes her head. She does reach up to pantomime rubbing the back of her bare arms, even adding a full body shiver to play up the expression before she just grins over at him and drops her eyes back down to the gun. It gleams a shining silvery color inside its case, and when he asks of it, she glances at him, then back to it. The case is summarily turned around then and slid toward him on the table. It's a custom Rook handgun, and Agent Houston raises her hands up to sign to him.

'It was a gift from a friend who passed many years ago. Today is their birthday, and I planned to shoot it in their name.' she states via the use of her hands, knowing that Clint is one of the few trained in that form of language here aboard the carrier.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Oh, sign," Clint says, looking momentarily sheepish but taking it in stride for the most part, "Give me a second. I'm rusty. Most of the Avengers just believe in raising their voices more and more until I smile and nod."

The hearing aid does him wonders, no doubt, but it's by no means a perfect substitute for good ol' biological hearing.

"That's a nice sentiment," he tells her, figuring she can understand him just fine when he speaks and not replying with sign of his own, "That's a Grach, right? Uh, a Rook. Don't get so see many actual pistols these days. Most of the rank-and-file use those ICER things, or they have some weird administrative leave to use a bow and arrow like they just wandered in here from Agincourt."

He grins.

"Clint, by the way. Sorry I didn't recognize you sooner. Lots of names and faces."

Quiet has posed:
Once more the young woman smiles to him, it being something that she seems to just default to, her facial features seemingly made to convey a sense of happiness. She then just nods understandingly to what he says before she responds once more with her hands held before her chest. 'Most refer to me as Quiet, though I do also go by Agent Houston, but that...' she actively slows down realizing she's probably going too fast for him. 'But that is still a relatively new name for me.'

She grins faintly then before she motions to the gun, before continuing. 'I prefer these over the electric sidearm. Those are very well made, but they are not reliable. I fear not being reliable to my team out in the field.'

Stefanie spares a glance toward the range, then back to him, since they're the only two in here. 'Am I interrupting your private session?" She asks.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Yeah, they called me Hawkeye when at the carnival," Clint answers, "And now it's on official paperwork. I guess you just get used to it one way or the other."

The comment on the ICERs earns a low laugh from Clint who sets the unstringed bow to one side, nodding his head: "They're ray guns, right? I get the intention, but the way I was taught you don't shoot unless you're prepared to hurt. Giving the new kids something that takes all the risk out of it just makes them sloppy."

He looks around, squinting for a moment as he parses 'private session' in his head and then shakes it.

"Me? Nah. Go ahead. Shoot away. You're probably looking for some peace and ... " he pauses, " ... silence."

Quiet has posed:
The woman just watches him as he speaks, occasionally she glances down to her gun as she slides a magazine in to its ammunition well with a snap of it put in place. The last bit of wordplay that he says with her name garners a playful grin to spread across her visage.

With her hands full now, she's unable to speak with her hands, and instead just proceeds to the shooting range. He'd note that she doesn't put any headgear on to block out the sound, which is technically against the rules, but as she sets up her target down range, she just raises her gun up and begins firing moments later.

She doesn't stop until the magazine is emptied, and the gun pops open. Another moment is spent drawing the simple target poster all the way down the lane to where she stands and she detaches it as she set the gun aside.

Quiet stares at the poster, it visibly filled with bullets in a perfect circle around the black bodied figure imprinted upon it, and a smiley face shot in the middle of it....

She's definitely a good shot, and kind of an odd girl too.

Clint Barton has posed:
As Quiet approaches the range, Clint subtly reaches up and pops his hearing aid out of his ear. The world around him becomes muted at once, and the series of shots that follow barely register as anything more than distant thunderclaps. It's almost peaceful in a way.

He cranes his neck to look at the poster slightly, a smile on his features.

"Cute."

That said, he rises to his feet: "Anyway, it was great to meet you again for the first time, sort of. Let me know next time you're groundside, I can show you around the monument to New York's greatest ego."

A pause, and then he signs the words: 'The Avengers Mansion.'

Quiet has posed:
Stefanie steps over to the table where she picks up a marker to write something on it as Clint speaks. She scribbles 'Happy birthday, Boss.' down on the poster's surface right beside the smiling face before she starts to roll it up.

When Clint begins his exit, the muted Agent looks up to him, and signs back.

'I would love that.' She tells him before pausing and adding. 'Have a great day, Sir. It was nice to chat with someone.'

And again, she offers him a smile laced with a pleasant warmth before she goes back to retrieve her weapon from the shelf beside the range.