15410/Flames and Arrows

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Flames and Arrows
Date of Scene: 18 July 2023
Location: Avengers Mansion - Second Floor
Synopsis: Clint and Clea catch up over a sandwich!
Cast of Characters: Clint Barton, Clea




Clint Barton has posed:
    When you're in NYC it's imperative that you visit the closest corner deli owned by a middle eastern or Jewish family that's possible. Which of course is what Clint Barton has done. After all it's only natural. He's returned to the tower, anxiously avoiding taring into the sandwich he's ordered while he ascended to the second floor of the mansion. As if testing his temptation to tare into the paper wrapped roast beef goodness, he places the food down on the counter in the kitchen area, making his way to the fridge. He opens it, silhouetted by the light there, staring and wondering just exactly what he should take for a drink. "Does no one label anything in here?" He quietly asks himself, reaching in and settling on a bottle of water. At least no-one would get mad at him for stealing that.

    Finally, he returned to his love, the sandwich. All he ever wanted today was this one thing. Carefully he undid the tape that held the paper wrapping together. Then lifted the fold to expose the gentle triangular curves of roast beef on rye. He smiles softly. Such a genuine happy smile. "There you are..."

    Nevermind what Hawkeye has been doing the past while... he returned now as if nothing had ever happened.

Clea has posed:
"Most people can just sense what is in the tupperware, Mister Barton." Clea states from behind him. Given her feet never touch the ground and she just /floats/ everywhere it is easy to sneak up on people. She looks a bit amused at them though. The white haired woman goes over to the fridge and claims herself a bottle of water before she floats back towards where she had been standing.

"We missed you in London last week. Could have used your bow." she grins to him before she takes a sip of water. "Oooh, where did you get the sandwich? Master Wong is always wanting to know of good delis." she states as she floats over towards his table, but keeps the distance conversational.

Clint Barton has posed:
    Clint wore hearing aids. He was 80% deaf after all. His sight and training was what made him so accurate with a bow. A curse to most, a blessing to some. It was a bit of both for him. Which means it was double the effect when the floating purple witch known as Clea snuck up on him.

    Forget a hawk, he jumped like a cat. Perhaps Nat was rubbing off on him too much.

    "Woah! Hey!" He turned quickly, "Didn't they ever tell you not to sneak up on a deaf guy! Besides..." He looks back to his sandwich. "You can't just tell with Tupperware. I mean. I maybe be good but I'm not /that/ good. You know?"

    He steels a glance in her direction, his eyes roaming over he floating for a moment before looking back to his uneaten lunch. "Gilbert's. About a three block walk east of here. Near the river." He informs.

    "I'm sorry I missed it. I was... dealing with some..." He was really reaching for an excuse. "Family issues?"

Clea has posed:
Clea immediately gives an apologetic look to her fellow Avenger and she dips her head a little, "Sorry about that. I need to work on walking...on the ground." she points to it. She looked properly mortified. "You're deaf?" she asks him curiously. "I didn't know that, so I apologize again." she asks him. "Do you use sign language?" she asks another question.

She was always full of questions!

"Gilbert's, I'll write that down." she smiles to that. Then she looks to him and there's a bit of a soft and understanding smile, "You don't have to explain anything to me at all." she admits. "You going to be staying for a bit? I'm sure Natasha and others will be happy to have you back." she comments.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "I am and I know it, yes." Clint responds, watching her feat float to the ground and land upon it. "The aids help, but this one in my left ear. I don't know, either an emp we ran into made it go wonky or some water got in the workings. It's causing me some trouble." He takes one of the aids out, blows on it and shows it to her. Then he puts it back in his ear.

    "I'm here until something else takes me away. What that'll be I don't know. So yeah. I already sent Nat a message. She's already got me on a mission in a couple days." A smirk.

    Blue eyes find Clea's, sparkling with a bit of a question. Instead of asking it with his voice, he asks in ASL. 'Do you know any ASL'. He didn't expect her to but, it was worth the question.

Clea has posed:
"Good you have you back then." The white haired sorceress states as she heads for the chair that is across from him. She listens to the man and she frowns a touch as she extends a pale hand to him, "May I see it?" she asks him. The hearing aid. If he lets her have it.

There's a chuckle, "Natasha is good at finding missions for everyone. Glad she's keeping us busy." she admits.

She pulls her hand back for a moment, ~I know ASL, probably not the greatest, but we had a deaf sorceror at Kamar-Taj.~ she admits. So apparently she did!

Clint Barton has posed:
    There is a moment of consideration as the sorceress respond to him in ASL. He smiles softly. Instead of one plate, he grabs two and puts one half of the sandwich on one, and the other half on the other. He places a plate in front of her, offering her the other half while he takes the one in front of him.

    He doesn't hesitate as she asks to study the hearing aid, taking one out and putting it in he palm as requested. He signs to her. "Then we can make fun of everyone and they'll have no idea." He winks and takes a seat once more, smirking towards her.

Clea has posed:
Clea regards him as he grabs the second plate and then she looks to him with a bit of a curious look as he places the other half of the sandwich down, "That's very sweet of you." she tells him as she looks to the hearing aid.

The sorceress gives a look to the words he signs and she chuckles, "Deal. Though given the others they might secretly know it and just watch for the day you do that." she teases him gently.

She then focuses on the hearing aid, whispering a few things as she fixes it magically. She gives it a little shake and then hands it back over to him, "Should be good as new." she tells him.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "Eh, don't mention it." Clint offers regarding the sandwich. "That's fine, I just say it to their face anyways." Clint responds with a wink and a smirk before picking up his half and taking a bit bite. He closes his eyes and leans back, clearly enjoying the taste of the sandwich. "Yup... I missed that." He chews the rest of it and lets it slide down his throat when ready.

    As she fiddles with his hearing aid and gives it back, Clint hesitates a moment. Then, taking it he puts it back in his ear. He blinks, eyes widening a bit in surprise. "Oh wow... I didn't know magic worked on this stuff. I thought I was going to have to go see Tony." He reaches his hand out to her, takes it and give it a squeeze. "Thanks, Clea. Saved me a lot of hassle." He keeps his hand there.

Clea has posed:
Clea takes a bite of the sandwich and there's a moment taken to taste things. She'd never had one like this before. She makes sure that her mouth is not full when she answers him, "It's a good sandwich. I'll have to take one to Wong." she tells him.

She watches the hesitation and then there is relief when everything is working correctly. "I can create a lot, magic is not really a compartmental thing. It touches over everything in some cases." she tells him. "Tony is a good person to see on it though. Maybe he could create something that doesn't go in the ear? So it doesn't get damaged in fights?" she offers.

When he squeezes her hand there is a look to him and then there's a smile and a bit of a squeeze shake back to him, "It's no problem, Clint. I'm glad it worked." she tells him.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "I'm probably going tomorrow for lunch, come with me. You kinda have to experience it." Clint offers in regards to getting food from Gilbert's.

    In regards to Tony and making some new tech. "I know enough to patchwork them when they go wonky. I don't know any magic and I'm certainly not on Tony's level." He offers. "He had said something about bone implants and vibrations or some such. I'm not sure, I'd have to go ask him. It's possible." He gives a shrug and takes another bit of his sandwich.

    Of course when their hands parted this was the part of everything Clint was bad at. When you ran out of things to talk about. So it was just him chewing, sitting, looking from her to the window and back again. Though his demeanor was pleasant in-case she wished to continue conversation. Though, it's him to break the silence. "So... anything new?" Small talk. Lovely.

Clea has posed:
Clea gives a look to him and there's a smile, "I'd love to go. I'll be ready and promise I'll be on my best behavior for the outing." she tells him. Clea was weird and it showed. "Well, maybe you can rely on your team to help with things? I sort of got reminded of that recently." she admits to him. "Bone implants, that sounds fascinating." she states. She didn't know what that might entail. Then there's a few moments taken to take another few bites of the sandwich and then settle it back down.

"Well, there was this big hero convention we got invited to in London that was great...until it wasn't. You know we have people from other universes coming into our timeline and last week we took down the guy that was killing all of the girls that looked like me." she frowns deeply to that. "Just...a lot of heavy stuff for people." she sighs.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "Why would you not be on your best behavior?" Asks Clint with a single brow raised. "And yes, of course you're right. We all are meant to compliment each other and make up for each other's weaknesses. Or so I've been reminded multiple times by Nat." He shakes his head from side to side, not in a negative fashion but to show he's trying his best to learn to be better and trusting.

    He had been following along until she mentioned the part about other timeline people appearing. That caused Clint to Zone out a moment as if remembering something. Though, when the mention of the killing girls that looked like her reaches his ears he snaps back. "What? How could anyone just assume some random girl was you. I mean, you're like this magical goddess who-" He pauses. "I mean. Oh man, that's just crummy. I hope you put them in the ground. The folks that were doing it. We got to do something about this timeline stuff. It's getting troublesome."

Clea has posed:
"Well, I tend to notice that things go wrong when I go out, so I just don't want it to happen around others." Clea shrugs to that. She gives a look to him and there's a smile, "I mean, we can work on weaknesses." she points out gently.

Then she looks a bit ashamed, "My Uncle sent someone to...cause me grief and they went on a serial killer spree as was the things forte back in the forties and things. Jack the Ripper." she states in seriousness. "They didn't assume anything. Just wanted to pick off those that reminded them of me." she states. "They've been...taken care of though." she explains.

"And others know more about it than I do. Natasha and a few others might be good to talk to on it." she tells him.

Clint Barton has posed:
    Clint listens, silent as he chews the last bit of his sandwich from Gilbert's. He takes a moment to let all she said sink in. "Well. I can tell you, Clea. As long as you're with me I ant going to let anyone do nothing to ya. So, we can walk around New York like we own it." There's a wink for her. Not that she needed a man, let alone a mortal man with absolutely nothing special about him to stand up for her. No. Perhaps it was just the idea of that presence that might help. To have someone else just as... capable... or susceptible about. "Folk need to start getting used to us." He offers.

    I'll ask them." He informs, "And I'm sorry. I'm glad it's taken care of though." He pauses, "For the record, your uncle sounds like a real dick."

Clea has posed:
Clea finishes off her sandwich and there's a bit of a smile as she wipes her hands with a napkin. Then she's listening to Clint and there's a softer smile, "That's very sweet of you, Clint. I'm sure it'll be a good day." she tells him. "And it's sort of odd to be out and people just recognize us. Like celebrities or something. I guess it just goes with the job." she comments.

"And there is nothing for you to apologize about. It is my fault and no one elses." she tells him. "And yes, Dormammu is a bit of a pain." she admits.

"What were your plans for the rest of the evening?" she asks him.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "Well it sure makes undercover operations a pain in the rear." Clint offers. "Not like the old days. Nat and I sleuthing out way into some Hydra outpost. They had no idea what was happening..." He looks a bit wistful at the idea. "But those days are gone now. Maybe I should up my disguise game a bit more?" He smirks ever so slightly.

    He frowns though as she starts blaming herself. "Your fault? How could the possibly be your fault? Don't do that, blaming yourself for what other people do. I've seen so many Friends do that and it eats them up inside." He shakes his head. Then she asks what his plans for the evening are. He shrugs. "I didn't have any. Nat doesn't have me doing anything until a few days from now. Why? Got some trouble you want to get into?" He asks with a chuckle.

Clea has posed:
"I mean, do you want a super suit? I'm sure Tony or others could whip something up for you." Clea teases him gently. "What do archers usually wear?" she asks him. "Guess we could put a hat on you." she chuckles.

Then there's a sigh and she nods, "I know...I know...I just..." she doesn't continue that as it is just more guilt and she was trying to not be a rain cloud. She then gives a look to him, "Oh I was just wondering. I sometimes go walk in the park that's down the way or I paint. Just passes time really." she chuckles. "Could shoot some pool, but I'm still learning that game." she admits.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "Super suit? Hell no-" Clint starts but has to think about it. "Well maybe that wouldn't be so-" He shakes his head, "Nope, I'm good. I'm fine, really. I got all the stuff I need. Not even a problem." He was from the middle of the country but after eating that sandwich it might as well have turned him into a New Yorker.

    He can tell she's still feeling guilt so he stands and moves closer to her. A hand goes to her shoulder and he studies her with his blue eyes a moment. "I didn't know you painted? I'd love to see some. Not that I know anything about art..." He smiles softly. "And then we can go for a walk... maybe find a bar and I can teach you a thing or two about billiards?"

Clea has posed:
"I mean, you'd probably just look for being more aerodynamic, right?" Clea chuckles to that. "Or do you want like bolts and things?" she asks him curiously. "I think you do good with your talents, Clint. I don't really know any archery, but it looks fun." she states honestly.

When he puts his hand on her shoulder there is a look up to him and a bit of a lopsided smile from her, "Thanks." she tells him. "And yeah, I do. It's a bit like therapy." she admits to that. "I can show you a few of them. They're really just wiggly jagged lines of colors on canvas at the moment. "And sounds like a plan. Paintings first." she tells him as she stands from the chair.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "Well I'm good with my bows and arrows. I prefer them but it's not the only thing I'm good at. I can wield a blade, shoot a gun. Heck, sometimes an arrow can't do what a Barrett can from two miles away, you know?" Clint answers, referring to a long range anti-material sniper rifle. "There are people out there better than me at those things. There's no-one better than me with a bow." Okay, there was Green Arrow. Maybe a competition was in order. "I can show you some stuff if you're interested?" He offers.

    He nods though, looking down at her with a smile as she returns it. Hand moving to the part of her back between he shoulder blade for a reassuring but before being removed entirely. He waits for her to stand and lead the way to show her the paintings. "I mean, I think they called less imaginative stuff art before right?" It could sound like an insult but was he really wrong?

Clea has posed:
"I should probably learn how to shoot sometime. Magic is not always the best option. Or...that is what I am told. If you might lend some assistance there sometime?" Clea asks him. "Oh is there not anyone better than you?" she quirks her eyebrow at him. "I hear the Justice League has a whole cadre of archers." she gives a wink to him. "I'd benefit from being shown more tricks." she admits.

She leads him to the door to her room and opens the door, just on the inside there are a few paintings that have dried and been varnished. Mainly in stormy colors with shocks of purples in them. "The MET and other places have good artwork." she tells him as she moves to let him see things.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "I would absolutely be happy to show you how to operate a firearm." Clint informs as he follows her along towards her room. He really hadn't been in any of the other Avenger's rooms before. "Justice League? I mean, maybe. Eh, they don't have my style. They're all like the high school jocks who made fun of me when I was a kid. All for show." He deflects.

    He steps in to her room. First taking a deep breath to acclimate his sense of smell, then his eyes flashed around. They landed on the painting as she pointed them out. "Moody... that's for sure." He says, moving ahead to study them. "The MET? You mean that place where all the actors go and wear dumb outfits and embarrass themselves every year?" HE pauses, leaning close to one of her paintings and studying it. "Never been."

    He raised back to full height and turns back to her. "Well... it's art. Be happy in that." He winks with a smirk. "Seriously they're good. You should go to Allen Street and see if the gallery will take them? Maybe you'll get a bid."

Clea has posed:
There's a chuckle from the white haired sorceress about the Justice League, "They are a friendly bunch." she points out to him. "But why would people make fun of you? Were you not athletic and things like you are now?" she asks him curiously. She was still figuring out humans!

"Ah, yes...very moody. I tend to do that a lot." she muses to him as she looks at one of the paintings. "Oh...oh is the MET Gala dumb? I went this year to represent the Avengers with a few others." she looks worried.

"Oh, that sounds like fun. Maybe I can do that sometime next week." she smiles to that.

Clint Barton has posed:
    "Everyone makes fun of the kid who grew up traveling with the carnival." Clint explains solemnly. Though, maybe Robin might have something to talk about with Clint on that matter. "Dumb?" Clint asks, "We went?" He blinks looking at her. "Man where have I been." He shakes his head. "Not that I would have gone. No it's not dumb. It's just for rich people I guess." Says the rich guy. He realizes this, approaching her, taking her hands in his. He looks at her in the eye, serious. "You are most definitely not dumb. Neither are the things you do. I'm just a jerk sometimes. Think everything is you know... a joke. Or whatever." He shrugs.

    Though he's a bit happy when she changes the subject, "Yeah. That's good. We'll take 'em down and I'll help you bring 'em over. We'll sell 'em. Put you're name on them I'm sure they'll go like hot cakes. If you don't want the money, there's a billion charities out there happy to take your green."