Dial My Number || Retrieval
Oct. 11th, 2015 11:30 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsClarice and Clint bring Darcy to the mansion.
Clint didn't have his bow and quiver with him because, well. Philadelphia. At worst, he'd wind up having to use the ball bearings in his pockets as projectiles. He might be clinking a little as he walked up to Clarice, but he didn't think it was too terrible. "Probably not gonna have any trouble," he commented, checking the time. Mid-morning. Things shouldn't be awful. "But just in case, Doug's handling the nutjobs who doxxed her and anybody who's actually, physically present is fair game for getting their head knocked into something hard, as far as I'm concerned."
Clarice wasn't in uniform and had her image inducer on, no sense in scaring the locals, but she was also discreetly armed with a pouch of pennies on her belt and several knives hidden about. They weren't her usual swords that she preferred, but they would do in a pinch. Of course, there was always powers too, but...knives were less dramatic. "If there's a problem, yo, I'll solve it," Clarice faux-rapped, striking a pose. She was going to the special place for that one. "Check out my hook while the DJ revolves it."
"Wicky-wick-wick?" Clint half-asked, half-rapped. Then he laughed, shaking his head. "C'mon, we've got some low key rescuing to do. I don't wanna leave Darcy by herself for much longer. Even with Doug scrubbing her electronic presence and killing the sites that have her info up, they had pictures of her family, so. The faster we're in and out, the better."
"Yeah yeah," Clarice laughed and opened a portal to the apartment building, "Don't worry, Legolas. We got this. And if worst comes to worst, I'll grab her, port back here, and leave you to your thing."
Stepping through the portal, Clint turned around and waggled his eyebrows at Clarice. "Oh, fun. Leaving me to all the baddies. Not the first time it's happened, but I'll probably run out of ball bearings pretty fast, so I hope you plan to come back." Checking the street the alley connected to so he could make sure their entrance wouldn't look too abrupt, Clint said, "Third floor. We should be good to go. Stairs instead of the elevator, though."
"Of course, I'll come back for you!" Clarice feigned mock-outrage, "We don't leave bodies behind for the police. That's just bad news. Or haven't you been told to police your brass before?!" She headed up the stairs without comment. Three flights was nothing.
Clint smirked as he followed Clarice upstairs. 'Policing his brass' for him wasn't so much about brass and more about how stupidly distinctive his chosen weapon was. SHIELD had almost never let him use his bow one a job. Not unless they wanted to send a message. And even then, there were easier ways of getting that kind of message across. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, letting the door to the third floor swing shut behind them before they started searching for the correct apartment number.
Finding it, he knocked.
Darcy checked the peephole, opening the door as she recognized Clint. "Good timing, my roommates left about a half hour ago," she said as she let the two in. "They know I'm leaving and thought it'd be easier to be out of the way."
"Good plan," Clint said, nodding even as he offered Darcy a rueful smile and let the door shut behind them. "Not exactly how I thought we'd be meeting up again, I'll be honest. Definitely thought there'd be more drinking and Pop Tarts. But y'know." He tilted his head toward Clarice and said, "'rice, this is Darcy Lewis. Darce, this is Clarice Ferguson." Then he grinned. "She's our transport."
Flipping the image inducer off, Clarice smiled, "There's always time for drinking, but Pop Tarts, Barton? Ew. Next you'll tell me that you drink wine from a box with a straw," she judged hard. "Good to meet you Darcy. Where's your stuff?"
"Pop Tarts are the easy to eat foodstuff of SCIENCE on a bender! Wine, not so much." Darcy exclaimed, jaw dropping slightly as Clarice turned... purple? "Oh wow, you're purple? Wait, how were you not purple before? That's so awesome," she breathed out. "Stuff, right. There's the box on that counter, and the rest is in my bedroom." She gestured to the box in question as she walked towards a hallway.
"Science," Clarice replied, amused by Darcy's reaction. She could learn about image inducer's later. "I didn't want to scare your neighbors. You know. More than they already irrationally are. Grab the box then and let's get the rest of your stuff. I'm getting paid in Starbucks," she wasn't, technically, though she would probably get a drink later just because.
Clint gave Clarice a salute before picking up the box off the kitchen counter and following the women through to the bedroom. "Don't disparage the quality results you can get when operating purely on Pop Tarts, coffee and/or Red Bull, and liquor, 'rice. It's a potent combination. Also, drinking wine from a box with a straw sounds like an excellent plan. I'll have to give that a try."
"There's not much. I wanted to bring my desk chair, but that would probably be a little awkward," Darcy said as she pulled her messenger bag over her shoulder and grabbed the backpack next to it. "Mm, box wine and a straw, like one of those squeeze pouch drinks but for adults. I can get one of the suitcases, if someone can get the other."
"Child, didn't Clint say that I was transport?" Clarice asked, putting a hand on Darcy's arm and going to get her desk chair, rolling it over. "Pile your stuff on here. A desk chair doesn't make any difference," she opened a portal to her suite, "Welcome to the Clarice-Express. No homeland security to get frisky, no maintenance delays and no traveling next to a hundred unwashed strangers. Roll the chair through."
"A magic portal? I want to say I've seen everything, but then something more awesome will come along. Wow, okay this is a thing. Is stepping through the portal weird, or is it literally a magic doorway?" Darcy asked, stacking her suitcases onto the chair as instructed and pushing it in the direction of the portal. "You have the coolest power, if not easy to blend without your science gadget."
"Not magic. Mutant," ooohboy. "Go," Clarice instructed, "We'll be right behind you," and if anyone was watching the building, they wouldn't be able to see a whole lot. Especially not in terms of them leaving. "Clint, you want to help her?"
Clint snorted softly. "Walking through's just fine, it won't leave you dizzy or anything," he offered, stacking the box he'd been carrying on top of the precariously stacked suitcases. "Okay, you steady, I'll push and steer. This shouldn't be too difficult."
Darcy grinned sheepishly and put a hand on the chair to keep it steady. "Can do," she replied, walking backwards slowly into the portal.
Clint didn't have his bow and quiver with him because, well. Philadelphia. At worst, he'd wind up having to use the ball bearings in his pockets as projectiles. He might be clinking a little as he walked up to Clarice, but he didn't think it was too terrible. "Probably not gonna have any trouble," he commented, checking the time. Mid-morning. Things shouldn't be awful. "But just in case, Doug's handling the nutjobs who doxxed her and anybody who's actually, physically present is fair game for getting their head knocked into something hard, as far as I'm concerned."
Clarice wasn't in uniform and had her image inducer on, no sense in scaring the locals, but she was also discreetly armed with a pouch of pennies on her belt and several knives hidden about. They weren't her usual swords that she preferred, but they would do in a pinch. Of course, there was always powers too, but...knives were less dramatic. "If there's a problem, yo, I'll solve it," Clarice faux-rapped, striking a pose. She was going to the special place for that one. "Check out my hook while the DJ revolves it."
"Wicky-wick-wick?" Clint half-asked, half-rapped. Then he laughed, shaking his head. "C'mon, we've got some low key rescuing to do. I don't wanna leave Darcy by herself for much longer. Even with Doug scrubbing her electronic presence and killing the sites that have her info up, they had pictures of her family, so. The faster we're in and out, the better."
"Yeah yeah," Clarice laughed and opened a portal to the apartment building, "Don't worry, Legolas. We got this. And if worst comes to worst, I'll grab her, port back here, and leave you to your thing."
Stepping through the portal, Clint turned around and waggled his eyebrows at Clarice. "Oh, fun. Leaving me to all the baddies. Not the first time it's happened, but I'll probably run out of ball bearings pretty fast, so I hope you plan to come back." Checking the street the alley connected to so he could make sure their entrance wouldn't look too abrupt, Clint said, "Third floor. We should be good to go. Stairs instead of the elevator, though."
"Of course, I'll come back for you!" Clarice feigned mock-outrage, "We don't leave bodies behind for the police. That's just bad news. Or haven't you been told to police your brass before?!" She headed up the stairs without comment. Three flights was nothing.
Clint smirked as he followed Clarice upstairs. 'Policing his brass' for him wasn't so much about brass and more about how stupidly distinctive his chosen weapon was. SHIELD had almost never let him use his bow one a job. Not unless they wanted to send a message. And even then, there were easier ways of getting that kind of message across. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, letting the door to the third floor swing shut behind them before they started searching for the correct apartment number.
Finding it, he knocked.
Darcy checked the peephole, opening the door as she recognized Clint. "Good timing, my roommates left about a half hour ago," she said as she let the two in. "They know I'm leaving and thought it'd be easier to be out of the way."
"Good plan," Clint said, nodding even as he offered Darcy a rueful smile and let the door shut behind them. "Not exactly how I thought we'd be meeting up again, I'll be honest. Definitely thought there'd be more drinking and Pop Tarts. But y'know." He tilted his head toward Clarice and said, "'rice, this is Darcy Lewis. Darce, this is Clarice Ferguson." Then he grinned. "She's our transport."
Flipping the image inducer off, Clarice smiled, "There's always time for drinking, but Pop Tarts, Barton? Ew. Next you'll tell me that you drink wine from a box with a straw," she judged hard. "Good to meet you Darcy. Where's your stuff?"
"Pop Tarts are the easy to eat foodstuff of SCIENCE on a bender! Wine, not so much." Darcy exclaimed, jaw dropping slightly as Clarice turned... purple? "Oh wow, you're purple? Wait, how were you not purple before? That's so awesome," she breathed out. "Stuff, right. There's the box on that counter, and the rest is in my bedroom." She gestured to the box in question as she walked towards a hallway.
"Science," Clarice replied, amused by Darcy's reaction. She could learn about image inducer's later. "I didn't want to scare your neighbors. You know. More than they already irrationally are. Grab the box then and let's get the rest of your stuff. I'm getting paid in Starbucks," she wasn't, technically, though she would probably get a drink later just because.
Clint gave Clarice a salute before picking up the box off the kitchen counter and following the women through to the bedroom. "Don't disparage the quality results you can get when operating purely on Pop Tarts, coffee and/or Red Bull, and liquor, 'rice. It's a potent combination. Also, drinking wine from a box with a straw sounds like an excellent plan. I'll have to give that a try."
"There's not much. I wanted to bring my desk chair, but that would probably be a little awkward," Darcy said as she pulled her messenger bag over her shoulder and grabbed the backpack next to it. "Mm, box wine and a straw, like one of those squeeze pouch drinks but for adults. I can get one of the suitcases, if someone can get the other."
"Child, didn't Clint say that I was transport?" Clarice asked, putting a hand on Darcy's arm and going to get her desk chair, rolling it over. "Pile your stuff on here. A desk chair doesn't make any difference," she opened a portal to her suite, "Welcome to the Clarice-Express. No homeland security to get frisky, no maintenance delays and no traveling next to a hundred unwashed strangers. Roll the chair through."
"A magic portal? I want to say I've seen everything, but then something more awesome will come along. Wow, okay this is a thing. Is stepping through the portal weird, or is it literally a magic doorway?" Darcy asked, stacking her suitcases onto the chair as instructed and pushing it in the direction of the portal. "You have the coolest power, if not easy to blend without your science gadget."
"Not magic. Mutant," ooohboy. "Go," Clarice instructed, "We'll be right behind you," and if anyone was watching the building, they wouldn't be able to see a whole lot. Especially not in terms of them leaving. "Clint, you want to help her?"
Clint snorted softly. "Walking through's just fine, it won't leave you dizzy or anything," he offered, stacking the box he'd been carrying on top of the precariously stacked suitcases. "Okay, you steady, I'll push and steer. This shouldn't be too difficult."
Darcy grinned sheepishly and put a hand on the chair to keep it steady. "Can do," she replied, walking backwards slowly into the portal.
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