Julian & Clint | Early Monday Evening

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Clint's doing his usual practice when an unexpected visitor drops in. Literally.

WARNING: Suicidal ideation.


Clint stretched aching muscles, shoulders cracking a bit, before he strung his bow and began firing arrows at targets that were progressively farther and farther away. It wasn't difficult, necessarily, but it did require a certain level of precision and focus to space each arrow the same distance from the previous one. It let him lose himself for a little while, which was nice — especially after the workout Scott had put him through in the Danger Room.

Nearby, Julian was strolling across the grounds in his poorest fitting set of training sweats- having been shut out of the mansion for being, as his self-appointed roommate had called it, 'too dour.' He approached the precipice of the quarry with damp autumn leaves sloshing beneath his feet. Spotting Clint below he took a couple more steps forward and off the ledge, falling for a few moments and contemplating not doing anything as the ground raced up to meet him. Seemingly at the last moments, his instinctive shields kicked in and he pushed back. The rock beneath shifted and cracked as he landed in a crouch.

Having spotted movement off to his right, Clint wasn't as startled as he could've been -- not until the loud crack of rocks splintering began. He turned whip-fast, his new titanium-adamantium alloy arrow nocked and ready to fly if whatever was making all the noise turned out to be a threat. He was pretty sure he had his phone on him, so he could theoretically call for backup. Spotting a semi-familiar face amongst the rubble of the rocks, Clint frowned and replayed the motion he'd picked up with his peripheral vision. That was a long fall and a last-minute save, if he was any judge of it... and considering his fondness for jumping off of tall things with nothing but a grappling arrow, he considered himself a fairly good judge.

Shoulders relaxing as he lowered his bow, brows creased, Clint walked toward the new dip in the quarry's bottom. He remembered hearing about what'd happened to this kid. His lack of hands was immediately evident. "You doin' all right down there, Holly Golightly?" Clint asked, slinging his bow over his shoulder and sliding his arrow back into the quiver at his hip.

Julian's brow arched, "Who?" He sauntered forward, debris falling off his hoodie. Despite the fact that over a year had already passed, it was still odd seeing Clint as an adult.

"To be honest, I have no idea who she is. But it sounded good, since what you just did was the opposite of going lightly," Clint said, shrugging.

An eye roll was his only response for a moment, then he noticed the bow, "There's easier ways to break rocks...um...Robin...Hood- man, I'm off my game."

"Aw, dude, no," Clint said, half-laughing. "C'mon, even off your game, you should be able to do better than that. Legolas or Merida or... I dunno. Katniss. Sailor Mars. There's a million fictional archers." He shook his head, still smiling a little. "And there's only better ways to break rocks if you've got mind whammy capabilities. Me? I got enhanced eyesight, reflexes, and spatial awareness. So this is what I do. Well, this is what I do with these particular arrows. I'm testing 'em. Making sure the new arrowheads actually stay in the rock."

A steady, incredulous look met Clint, but Julian let the Sailor Mars comment pass...for now. "You're out here making sure your skills stay as sharp as your arrows, I can respect that. You made these yourself?"

"Yeah -- and it's not so much my skills with the bow that I'm worried about. This is a new titanium-adamantium alloy. I gotta make sure it hits rock and doesn't bend or break. Tell you what'd be amazing, though? Gettin' my hands on some vibranium so I could check out how well it actually blends with adamantium. There've been rumors around for years about that mixture, but no one ever has any deets. And vibranium's so damn rare." He shook his head. "There's always black market resources, but jeez. You gotta respect Wakanda and all. So I don't foresee myself gettin' any anytime soon."

"Keller Industries might have some in some lab somewhere, I'll make some calls," turning toward one of the arrows, "if I ever go back," he added under his breath. Julian pried one of the arrows from a rock with his mind and inspected the dent. "Looks solid, what are they for?"

"Bad guys with super thick skin or partial invulnerability, maybe. Armor-piercing stuff if we go up against creepers in riot gear or something," Clint said, shrugging. "Mostly, I just like makin' new arrowheads. Keeps my brain occupied while my hands are busy. Also, thanks -- if you manage to get some vibranium, I'd be grateful. You should let me know what I owe you for it." He frowned a little, then said, "You got control of your TK, right? Like, fine motor control? You'll make it back to KI. I know the whole thing sucks, but you can still do good things -- still help people and all that. I'm sorry it happened though. Let me know if you want any like... help training or whatever? I dunno what you might need, but I'd be willing to try and assist."

Julian thought for a moment, then floated the arrow back to its owner, "Tell you what, why don't you fire a couple of those off at me? Good practice for...when I'm back in the field."

Snagging the arrow out of the air, Clint gave Julian an apprising once-over, then shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. Not today, at least. I've never actually seen you in action and I don't miss anything I aim at without something like a shield being in the way -- or somebody cheating and stealing my powers. I think we should hit up the training room or the gym. Maybe the Danger Room. Let me see what you can do and how. Once I've got your measure, I'll fire all the armor-piercing arrows at you that you want me to. Or the EMPs, the grappling ones, the sticky-mess ones, the exploding ones... whatever floats your boat."

The smirk that had crossed Julian's face faded, and he shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. Maybe you hadn't heard, but I'm sort of off active duty for the time being...probably forever." He emphasized the point by waving the metal capped stumps of his wrists in front of himself. "Good chatting with you, Clint. Keep up the good work and I'll get to work on that vibranium." Julian turned and walked toward the opposite end of the quarry, where the steep, twisting path that led further into the forest lay hidden against the rocky walls.

"Depends how you define 'active duty,'" Clint called after Julian. He shook his head a little. "It's not all bullets and fire and guys trying to karate chop your face or whatever. I'm kinda working on a thing with a couple other people -- a team. More science-oriented. Maybe you'd like it. Let me know if you wanna talk."

Julian paused and shouted back without turning around, "Sue Storm, Reed Richards, Henry McCoy. Start with them, let me know if you need funding." He waved a stump behind himself and headed for the rocky trail to continue his walk.

Frowning again, Clint pulled one of his new arrows out of his quiver, slid his bow off, and nocked the arrow all in one motion. He drew the string back, held it for a moment, and then let the arrow fly. It soared perfectly, the arc letting it skim past Julian's shoulder -- close enough for the fletching to riffle the fabric of his t-shirt. "Sure. Thanks for that. Once you've talked to a therapist or something so you're outta your funk, I just might hit you up for some money."

The ripping sound made Julian stop for a moment, losing pace. Looking at his shoulder, he glanced back at Clint and gave the archer a slight nod before continuing on- the gears beginning to turn on what he had been alluding to.