Rogue & Clint | Sunday Afternoon (backdated)

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Rogue and Clint meet several meters off the ground and a challenge is issued.


Ah fall. A time of love, laughter, and constant dampness. It was getting to where she didn't even recognize the sun anymore, so when she finished her workout and realized it was sunny, well, that was cause for celebration.

Heading up on the roof, she stretched for a little while near the fliers' platform, plotting out a flight plan in her head when she glimpsed something shiny in one of the trees. She put her hands on her hips and squinted, trying to see what was there.

It wasn't the fact that a male was sitting in the tree that was curious to her -- it was the fact that he had a bow on his back. Arrows too. Curiouser and curiouser.

Trying to sneak up on him, she flew slowly, trying to get behind him. Hovering slightly above him, she cocked her head. "Whatcher doin'?"

"Chillin'," Clint answered. He'd caught sight of her approach out of the corner of his eye, so he wasn't startled - such was the joy of having eyes like a raptor. "You?" He'd finished his assignments, for the most part, though he had a paper due Friday that he wanted to get a head start on. All work and no play, though, as the saying went - which was why he was in a tree, as high up as he could go without having the branches snap beneath him, getting ready for some more challenging target practice.

"Hoverin'," she replied cheekily, moving in front of him. She crossed her legs midair, like she was sitting down about to do yoga. It was a good exercise in stamina,trying to float and not move. "You're Clint, right? I think I've seen you around. I'm Rogue. I'd shake your hand, but it seems occupied right now."

Twirling an arrow between his fingers, Clint quirked a smile. "You're friends with Doc Reyes, right?" Reaching over his shoulder, he unhooked the bow he'd strapped there and, tucking the arrow back into his quiver, started checking the bow over before he got ready to actually begin practicing.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Now how would y'all know that? Spying much?"‎

Clint blinked at her, pausing his once-over of the bow. "You talked to her about her trip to Africa on the journals. And I think you called her 'sugar.' Which kind of makes me think you two are friends?"

"I always forget everyone can read the school journals," she responded absently. "Plus," she added, a bit louder, "I call everyone sugar. It's a thing I do. Gotta stand out somehow, right?"‎

"Don't you stand out enough, what with the whole... hovering thing?" Clint asked, going back to checking his bow. Once he'd finished, he drew an arrow and nocked it. "Speaking of, could you hover a little to the left? I could aim around you, but Laurie would probably smack me if she found out I was even joking about that."

"It's not like I hover on my way to the mall or nothin'," she pointed out, obliging his request at the same time. ‎"Also, I'm invulnerable, so even if you did hit me, it wouldn't kill me.". She thought for a moment. "It would hurt though, and I'd probably have to kick your ass if I wasn't expecting it."

"Good thing you started the conversation while I was fiddling with an arrow, then, so you'd have to be expecting it if I actually hit you with one," Clint said, straightening on the limb upon which he stood so he could draw back the string properly. "Alright, tell me what to hit - make it challenging."

Huh. An impromptu training session. ‎She could dig it. "Alright, sharpy." She pulled out a toboggan from her back pocket, and placed it on her head, loosely so the tip was slouching excessively so. She just met the guy -- she had to be somewhat wary. "Tip of my hat."

She backed up and started to fly in a lazy figure eight, picking up speed to what she thought was appropriately safe. She kept a clear eye on his arrow though, sure she could get out of the way if necessary.

Oh, a tiny, moving target. Clint liked it. He took a moment to check her pace, how she was speeding up, where she went, and then he took aim. After loosing the arrow, he reached for another one, seeing the first hit home just as he nocked the second. "Next," he called.

Rogue looked surprised, watching her hat go down. "Dammit. Now I owe Julian a new hat," she muttered. "Alright, you, let's see what else I can think up." Looking around, she saw what she wanted and flew towards the tree. ‎Effortlessly breaking a branch, she snapped it in two. "Here you go," she said, poised to throw it in the air. When she saw he was paying attention, she threw the two pieces in opposite directions.

Clint hit the first stick without any trouble, pinning it to another tree, before going for the second. It was more challenging, getting the arrow nocked and off while keeping his eyes on the stick so he wouldn't lose it amongst the other branches and foliage, but he did manage it, leaving a second arrow trembling in a second tree through the stick. "Nice," he said, smiling. "What else have you got?"

"I think that was about it," she said in awe. "How much of that is ‎you, and how much is your powers? Color me impressed!"

"I dunno - I think it's an even sort of thing. I've got spatial awareness according to Mister Summers and Logan. Plus my actual eye mutation, which gives me really good sight - like 20/2. But I've been doing archery for a year and a half now or so. I like it, so I practice a lot."

"It definitely shows." she flew over to the tree where Clint was, and landed on the branch nearest him. "How'd you get into somethin' like this?"

"Archery?" Clint considered that for a moment. "Well, first it was cause Maddie was doing marksmanship but then decided she didn't like guns, so she sort of started archery and dragged me along. Then we got kidnapped by an internet meme and yanked into an alternate dimension type thing and when the redhead spy was handing out weapons, she gave me this Asgardian bow - which was awesome. And then I started taking things seriously and Laurie started really teaching me. And it turned out I was pretty good at it, so it stuck."

"Of course," she laughed, "why wouldn't that be the reason? Does it ever strike you just how ridiculous our lives are?"

"All the time," Clint said, unstringing his bow. Especially when friends decided they'd rather head back to Alaska or wherever else instead of staying at the mansion. Strapping the bow onto his back again, he considered his options for the day. He hadn't practiced as much as he would've liked, but he had to admit - he'd kind of impressed himself with that last shot and he didn't want to jinx himself. "But we're still here, anyway."

"Very true, and most of the time, happily so," she added. "So what is it you do here? I think you're a student, right? I have a horrible grasp on ages, and I can never tell who is who here. I mean, heck, take me for example: I think I'm an adult, but I could find a million reasons why I'm not.....I mean, let's be real -- I may be 28, but at heart, I'm pretty sure I'm 16."

"I'm a senior here, yeah, but I take classes at Columbia, so I can see why it'd be difficult to place me," Clint smiled. "And hey, there's nothing wrong with being young at heart - 40's like the new 30. Or something. My dads are always muttering stuff like that at one another."

"I'm not 40 yet, child," she retorted, shaking her head. "But I do hear what you're sayin'. Not like we live in the good ol' days when you reached your prime at 20. I mean, goodness, I'd be a bonafide spinster then, destined to live alone with hundreds of cats." She tilted her head, and thought for a moment. "Although, I guess I am on my way, but instead of cats, it's teenagers who don't belong to me."

Clint just raised an eyebrow at that, then looked down so he could see where all the branches were beneath him. "How many teenagers have you collected, exactly? And should I be worried about your collecting habit? It's not the creepy kind, right?" Before she could answer, he closed his eyes and started down the tree, feet unerringly finding the branches, hands finding limbs he could see in his memory's eye.

Rogue ‎watched him scurry down luke an over sized squirrel and was fascinated. His eyes were closed and yet he acted as if he could see.

Amazing.

She floated down gently, following him so when he touched down, she was already on the grass, clapping. "I think I should be addin' ya to my teenager collection," she teased. "I might get too fat to move one day, and need someone to climb a tree for me. Rescue a kitten or somethin'." She then remembered his earlier question. "And I only have teenagers here. I actually teach a drop in art class. You should come. I could get ya finger painting."

"I did art sophomore year, but thanks for the suggestion," Clint said, reaching the last branch and then dropping down to the ground. "Anyway, I'm colorblind, so art's not really in the cards for me unless it's like. Lines. Lots and lots of lines."

"Sculpture, then," she stated, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm in the boathouse most of the time, just doodling around. Feel free to come bug me anytime."

Clint smiled. "Did sculpture in middle school. But I could drop by, anyway. See what's going on there. I think there's photography and stuff there, right?"

She nodded. "The boathouse is amazingly well set up. I just leave my art supplies up, and my cell phone number on an easle, so whenever people feel inspired, and want some guidance, they can text me and I can make my merry way over." Rogue leaned over and whispered loudly, "I don't really have much of a life."

Leaning in a little closer, Clint whispered back, "That's sad. You're too young to not have a life. I should introduce you to my dads, Andre could hook you up with the young artist-club-fashionista scene."

She shook her head vehemently. "I don't do well with large groups of people. I'm more of a one on one kinda gal. And a homebody too," she added. "I'm okay with it."

"Well, okay then," Clint said, quirking a smile. "Andre's mostly into fashion, anyway. So he could like. Hook you up with a runway model or something but probably not, cause that'd be weird."

"Yeah, that would be weird. I'm okay." And she really was. With a smile, she brushed off her gloves on her pants and stuck out a hand. "It was real nice meeting you in person, Clint. Next time, maybe we'll meet on the ground."

Reaching out, Clint shook her hand. "What's the fun of meeting on the ground?" He asked, grinning. "Trees are a lot more interesting."