3499/The best part of waking up.

The best part of waking up.
Date of Scene:	22 September 2020
Location:	Upstate New York, Woods.
Synopsis:	Clint and Alexander talk about partners.
Cast of Characters:	Clint Barton, Alexander Aaron

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Clint Barton has posed:
New York State.

Once one gets away from the city, the state looks like something out of picture postcards. Forests, clearings, mountains, valleys.. and honest to god nice people in small gatherings to celebrate things that are important.

Like archery.

Posted on the bulletin board of Clint's favorite archery hangout in Brooklyn was an announcement for a traditional shoot that boasts tens of miles of trails, targets to be shot at from in the trees, on the ground, up a hill, down a hill.. all to make it competitive for the top archers of the region. It's a competition, but one that Clint isn't entering to win, no. He just wants to shoot.

And not do it alone.

Whether it was a hard sell or not, Clint's go-to is called, and after a build up of 'camping', complete with tents, fire and the promise of avoiding poison ivy and poison sumac out in the woods, here he is.

Clint's emerged from his tent, the fire still warm with embers. Currently, he's in a warm jacket, jeans, boots.. and he's got some sticks on the side to encourage the fire to grow a little before even attempting something like coffee.

"Hey.." is called. "You up yet?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    To get the right clothes needed for a trip off to the woods, Alexander had to dig into his father's stash. It was better than going back home off in Jersey, having to face the questions and growly judgment of the older deity, so the young Olympian had wandered to the safehouse his dad has in the city for 'just in case' events. So it took some digging to put together a backpack filled with the right gear, and to get some warmer weather clothes...
    Though for a time he had stood there in front of the closet wondering if he should even trouble with it, considering he didn't feel cold too keenly. At least the subtle shift from Summer to Fall. Still, always best to blend in than stand out.
    With that decision made he'd made the trip up to the rail station some ways away and then they'd made it off into the woods. Clint's idea of camping was definitely nicer than the other trips he'd taken. Being left off in the Adirondacks with just a knife wasn't what he'd call camping. Still...
    But when Clint called, Alexander's voice lifted as he answered, "Yes, sir." Though the sound of him rising from the sleeping bag might have been heard as well. But a few moments later and he was emerging from the tent, pulling one one boot and then the other before he shuffled over in his black sweat shirt and blue jeans, his breath visible in the morning chill.

Clint Barton has posed:
The sun's peeking up, so there is actually ambient light outside, and as the fire slowly comes up to where it needs to be, Clint's working on that next bit. Coffee. Out and away from the city, the archer is awake and actually in good spirits, as opposed to the growly morning grumbles.

"How'd you sleep?" Sleeping bags on the ground can leech warmth, but if done right with boughs and leaves (minus the bugs!), it's actually comfortable, and smells like nature.

"Check in starts at eight." Clint's got the equipment off to the side, and out of the tent in preparation. He's only carrying his bow, and a bunch of very, very basic arrows tuned to the poundage. He'd also made Alexander a good number of the same sort, different colored fletching, however, and again, all tuned to the bow he'll be using.

"Making coffee now," and Clint does just that. Starts setting up the percolator, measuring out the coffee with more than enough grounds than called for..

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Alright," Alex says as he takes up a spot near the fire, looking around their camp for a moment before a small smile blossoms on his features. He draws his legs up and rests his elbows on his knees, then leans forward to hold his palms out toward the flames.
    "Learned early on to get sleep where I could when I could," Since it was often a valuable commodity. Though he could function for a big without it pretty well, he still /liked/ to sleep since it was nice.
    "Do we umm..." For a time he sort of looks at the fire, then looks sidelong at Clint, then back at the fire. He lifts a hand to rub at the back o his neck thoughtfully then continues his question, "Do we want to like, not shoot super well? So, you know, other people can kinda... have fun and all?" Since he knows if Hawkeye decides he wants to win, he'll win. And Alexander is a fair shot, nowhere near Clint but pretty darn decent comparatively to most folks.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Always get sleep when you can," Clint acknowledges. "When your partner lets you, anyway." There's a ghost of a smile, "Of course, rule one is always take care of your partner." So, it works well... when one has a good partner, anyway.

With the percolator over the fire, and the little lid's glass top starting that burble of clearish liquid, Clint pulls out a couple of power bars and tosses one over.

"There are some top archers here. If you shoot to compete, the chances are good there are people out there who are gonna shoot better. I'm talking shooting an aspirin out of the air good." Do they measure up to him? He's not telling; he'd be bragging. "You compete. I'll just sign up so I can shoot and I'll push you on." There's a pause and the archer finishes up with, "How's that."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Sure, that's cool." Alexander says as he nods, as if to say to himself, 'yeah, that is cool.' Yet he manages to catch that power bar in hand and holds it up for a moment, for some reason gauging the ingredients in it and pondering for a time before he looks back to the archer.
    "That was..." His lips twist for a moment as he looks distant, thoughtful, then those curious hazel eyes focus back on Clint as he says with a small smile. "One of the first lessons I sorta learned from my dad indirectly, by like... not listening to what he said."
    The bar is torn open as he tears off a piece of the power bar at the end and pops it into his mouth to start chewing. "He was, for the first part of my life all, 'go go go, win win win.' and I took it to heart for a good part of time. But then I sorta realized, when I started, you know, doing my own thing after coming back from..." He lifts a hand, waves it, but doesn't elaborate.
    "Realized that if you're always doing that whole... win win win thing, that sure you get better. But you burn bridges quick. And..."
    The young Olympian makes a face, "And that's no fun."

Clint Barton has posed:
"You gotta be able to trust your partner, because at the end of the day? He's got to have the same thought in his head. 'How can I keep my partner safe and moving.'" Clint opens up his power bar and tears off a piece.

"Problem is, yeah.. at the end of the day? 'Go, go, go' and 'win, win, win' makes a person really lonely, 'cause you aren't necessarily at the top, but along the way?" Clint nods and points at Alexander's 'take away' from it all. "Better to work together." Though, this is said by a man who doesn't always work well with others, and has only had a couple of good partners over his time with SHIELD. "At least to know your place on the team."

Finally, a piece of the powerbar is tossed into his mouth, and he chews thoughtfully before, "Glad you came out here, though. Good air, good people down there," and he nods in the direction of where the event will be starting. "And they'll probably be giving you tips, too. I know some of the guys, and around a fire, they will bullshit you. But archery? They're dead serious about their shooting, even if it doesn't seem like it."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I..." Alexander lifts his eyes upwards then murmurs, "Don't think I've ever had like a partner. Or, you know, I mean a partner partner. I ran with a friend for a time on the streets, she was trying to make me a hero of some sort. A vigilante. But it was..."
    His lip twists as he looks back at Clint and says, "Well, more them wanting to do it and me trying to be, I guess, supportive?" But that was a good chunk of time ago for him. He shifts on the log he's sitting on and straightens up a little, eyes distancing for a moment.
    "But yeah, I learned early on that going to... whatever, school, dojo, shooting range, and tearing it up doesn't really earn you a lot of points with people." His brow knits a little as his gaze distances, then he looks back. "And sometimes people get hurt. Which sucks." And it does.
    But then he takes a breath and chews more on the piece of power bar, smiling a little. "Out of all your partners who was your favorite and why?" Curiousity is there in his eyes as he looks to the archer.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Did that too. Ran with the wrong crowd, ended up on the wrong side for a little bit." There's that bit of honesty. "Sometimes I feel like I haven't made enough amends for things, but when you've got good people around you? No one cares. They see who you are, not who you were. And they want to know where //you// want to go. And if you don't know?" The archer pulls another piece off and takes the bite, chewing quickly as he eyes the coffee pot as it burbles. Liquid is darker in there, but not quite done.

"You show 'em what could be and let them make their choices." Thus, the archery trip. It was offered, no strings, no pressure. Just a time out in the woods, fresh air and no expectations except to 'take that shot'.

"I'm not gonna say don't push to be the best," Clint warns. "Don't push everyone else down when doing it is all. Nothin' wrong with being the best. The world's changing and you gotta find your place in it. Now, there's mutants, and aliens, and gods walking around." That last bit gains a quick smirk before, "While I won't say 'all's fair', it's.. a balancing act."

Clint sets his wrapped bar on his boot as he deems the coffee 'done'. Reaching forward to pull it from the fire, he makes the little 'hothothot' utterances before setting it into the dirt beside the pit in order to let the boiling up stop before the lid is pulled to get the grounds out of the top. "My favorite?" Clint grins as he works, "That's classified." Must mean that it's his current one. "I've had a few, though, but I always go back to my one. And, she's amazing. Don't have to say a word. Hell, we could be apart for months, embedded in missions, and the moment we're assigned to the same job? Like we never left."

As the boiling settles down, finally he can attend to the rest and pour the coffee into mugs. Chewy. Coffee.

"Helped train people though. Kate Bishop. She's over with the Titans now. Good kid, great archer."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The youth opposite him is attentive, some might find it disturbingly so because he's listening and watching and absorbing what he's told. It's clear he respects what the archer has to say, seems to be focused on retaining what he can and nodding slowly at points as he lets his thoughts wander down the lines offered by the archer.
    Then he looks back and nods, "Yah, I am still..." He lifts a hand and waves it off to the side, "Still trying to sort of take the things I've learned, and compare them to what I've experienced in the real world and sort of finding that. You know, I guess everyone goes through that point when they realize there's more out there than what people have told them about or prepared them for I guess."
    Meaning, most likely, that he's been questioning some of the things he's learned from his father. But still not comfortable with being too condemning about it. For a moment he chews his lower lip and then tilts his head after pondering what Clint tells him about partners. "Do you feel you need that like..."
    He tears off almost the last of the protein bar and chews it for a time, swallows before he finishes that thought. Finally voicing it. "To be a good partner, you need that like, emotional connection? I try to be a good operative at points. And do what I think is best. But it's hard to..." he tilts his head one way, then the other. "I guess relate to other people."

Clint Barton has posed:
"It's what you're supposed to do," Clint nods as he pushes a cup of coffee in Alex's direction. "See what your parents taught you, your friends. Then you sort through it all, and come out on the other side with what you believe." His coffee is brought to his lips, and after a tentative sip, takes a little more of the hot liquid. "Me, I don't expect you'll take everything I say either. Maybe one day, you'll look back and say, 'Hawk was full of it'.." and a quick, lopsided smile rises before a barked laugh comes. "Dunno."

Now that question? Clint rocks his head back a little and readjusts his position on the ground. His powerbar still sits on the side of his boot, and coffee mug is settled in his left hand; he's a southpaw. "What makes a good partner?" He shakes his head and exhales in a soft breath before, "Mutual respect. You gotta understand and respect them. Don't care if you like them or not, even though it helps when you do. You have to know what their strengths and weaknesses are so you can fill that void." Clint considers again, and cradles his cup of steaming caffeine in both hands briefly, "Knowing how many kids they have, or the last time they got.. well, whatever, not important. Unless it's messing with their performance in the field. Then?" Clint moves the wrapped remnants of the powerbar to a jacket pocket and makes to rise from the ground, albeit slowly. "It's your life on the line too."

Though now? "C'mon. Almost time to register."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    At the comment at first about Hawkeye being full of it, Alex sort of smiles and bobs his head a little as he joins in with the mood and murmurs, "Probably." But he doesn't laugh, more just smiles easily as he shakes his head.
    But then he listens to Clint about how to be a good partner and seems to nod along at points, listening and gauging as he often does about most things when he's around SHIELD people. Not quite as easy-going as he has been in the past, but definitely more attentive and focused. He takes a deep breath and makes a small 'hrm' sound, then eats that very last bit of protein bar.
    "Okay." He finally says, as if having passed judgment on what he's been told even as he stands up at the archer's behest. It's when they're walking down the hillside path toward the gathering for the shoot that he lifts his voice again.
    "So ok, scaring off everyone from signing up for the contest so that we'd win by default, that would be... bad? Right? Ok." His lip twitches as he tries to maintain a poker face, but fails.