14482/Chillin' at pool

Chillin' at pool
Date of Scene:	21 July 2022
Location:	Recreation Room, The Triskelion
Synopsis:	Nick and Clint share a non-violent moment where no one tries to kill anyone.
Cast of Characters:	Hawkeye (Barton), Phantasm (Drago)

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Clint Barton has posed:
It's after usual business daytime, and the Recreation Room at the Triskelion is usually quiet at that time. Since he doesn't have a pool table at any of his places, the home archer stops by occasionally, to hit the balls. His life partner being busy running searches on the more than dark web - really, it never ends to get darker there - this is a good time to relax.

Wearing his civvies as he calls them - jeans and t-shirt - Clint enters the Room. His eyes automatically scan the room, and Nick Drago is easily noticed.

"Hey Nick, how goes?" Clint asks, as he passes by the musician.

The archer heads for one of the pool tables where he starts placing the balls for a game. Will he have a partner? It would be surprising as by now everyone at the Trisk knows that playing against Hawkeye is a certain defeat.

Nick Drago has posed:
In the long stay at the Trisk, Nick has had plenty of time to establish some truths about himself to those who take the time to observe. One is of course that he's a performer. Two is that sometimes he'll run out to get food for people if they ask nicely. Three is that he has set a limit on how many people he will do that in a trip. Four is that he limits it to one trip per day. Five is that he likes to use the climbing wall. Si-

Ok he's been here for awhile, there's a lot of stuff people could have figured out even without reports to read. But that the guy likes to read is probably on the list too somewhere. And low and behold! That is what Nick is doing in this room! Reading a rather worn copy of an old library book that is likely NOT part of the collection offered by the rec room.

Clint's voice causes for the musician to glance up from the pages. "Ah hey Clint. Just resting up. You?"

Clint Barton has posed:
The balls are properly arranged, ready to be hit. Queue in hand, the archer glances at the balls, but doesn't break right away. Instead, he turns to lean against the table, legs crossed at the ankles, looking at Nick.

"It goes," Clint says, "I was doing some reconnaissance, but the area I was checking is covered with cams. Damn, Skye won't be happy. Ah well."

Yes, he's fishing, as he often does. For those knowing him - and Nick is among them to a point - the grin on the archer's face foretells an interesting story. Interesting, funny, or salacious in nature.

The few other agents, two or three of them, get busy pretending to be busy, as they await to hear the story.

Nick Drago has posed:
The book lowers as Clint gives a teaser to a story that Nick is not already familiar with. Or at least this variation. A finger slides between the pages, allowing for the book to mostly close. He's ready to go back to the book if his newly chosen route doesn't produce proper results. "Oh?" Nick asks, "Did you end up on all the cameras?"

Clint Barton has posed:
"Ah!" Clint exclaims, about to tell the story. It will, in itself, place in the open something that everyone with eyes, ears and brain know at the Trisk.

"Yeah, I'm sure I ended up on them," he says, "But I was clothed, so no biggie."

There's something about the way the archer likes to tell a story - or a joke - that might be annoying to some. But he's clearly enjoying himself.

As he speaks, Clint walks to the end of the pool table, taking position to aim at the queue ball.

"We tried a lot of places," the archer explains, letting Nick figure out who's he's talking about, "Taxi, grocery store, hrm, ah yeah, how could I forget the swim suits store." He pauses at that, glancing at Nick.

"But we never tried to ladies' showers. And won't. Damn cameras outside the door."

CLACK! And the balls roll in all directions, many finding the pocket right away.

"Now, waitaminit. Signals can be jammed. Hrm."

Nick Drago has posed:
Nick arcs a brow at the general list of places seemingly visited. Considering what exposure to Clint he had, there's only three females that come to mind. "Does this have anything to do with the time you were cooped up having to sit through an awkward family dinner?"

Clint Barton has posed:
The archer studies the position of the remaining balls on the table, then opts for the perfect angle, not shooting yet.

"Naw," Clint says, grinning. "Just regular relaxing time, y'know. I hate routine. Don't you?"

And that is a tricky question, as it is unclear if Hawkeye is referring to the specific activity, or the routine in general. Up to Nick to guess!

Nick Drago has posed:
Ok. So either he was too vague or this has nothing to do with Skye's mom. And he doubts that Sarah Connor would be thinking about hanging by the pool or beach. Which brings up Skye. Who will be mad because of the cameras during Clint's -

Nick takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh.

Clint Barton has posed:
Feeling that that the joke ran its course, Clint takes a moment to clear the table. Well, he takes his time, which means that 4-5 shots are necessary.

"Ah c'mon, man," the archer says, leaving the pool table to join Nick by the "reading corner".

"I guess humour is just like everything, it takes all sorts to make a world." And on that, the archer drops on one of the comfy seat, extending his legs to rest on the empty chair nearby. "Whatcha reading?"

Nick Drago has posed:
With Clint stopping with the story, Nick goes back to his book with the sound of balls clacking for background noise. Eyes glance up once more as Clint speaks. A finger slides in place, marking the page as the book is lowered.

"Collected works of Edgar Allan Poe." Nick answers, thumb running along the plain cover. It's a hardcover book, and while the tint of the pages reveal some age to them. The outside of it shows that at one point the book had been to a binder's for repair.

He glances over to the others in the room and then to Clint. "Well, aren't you going to finish the story for the eavesdroppers?" Nick asks. "Maybe ask them for suggetions on where to do the best surveilance?"

Clint Barton has posed:
Alright, so maybe the archer was too subtle. Which, frankly, isn't one of his strong traits. But now that he's seated, his back to the curious agents, they can't very well hear him as well than when he was talking from a distance.

"Nick," Clint says, "I was talking about places where we did, and plan to do it." Beat. "Do /it/. And if I need to explain more, then I'll send you a gift card for a Playboy subscription."

This being clarified, Clint notices the old book, nodding. "He wrote some creepy stuff for sure. I don't read much - bad for my eyes. Same for writing. But Poe's stories make wonderful stories to listen to. I remember one about a hidden heart still beating, or something."

Nick Drago has posed:
Nick rolls his eyes again as Clint gives him the quieter explanation. "No kidding." He responds back with a sarcastic tone.

Either way, the topic ends upon the book. Which, honestly is more Nick's thing. The description of the story Clint recalls gets a nod from the musician. "The Tell-Tale Heart." He supplies, "One of the better known ones." He smiles, "Poe's also known as the father of the modern Detective Story."

Clint Barton has posed:
He's not going to rack his brain about other stories he might have read, so Clint nods, convinced that Nick knows way more about Poe than he does. "Oh yeah, that's it, Tell-Tale Heart. Creepy."

This is not the kind of book that one would expect to find at the SHIELD HQ. Now, weirder things have been seen there, so there is no saying where the book comes from. "I doubt Fury would provide us with classics," the archer comments, "Plus, it looks like an antique." He'd say like even an incunabulum, alas this word isn't part of his repertoire. "Family heirloom?"

Nick Drago has posed:
Nick shakes his head. "Nah. Book's probably younger than me. It was a present bought from a library sale." He pauses, lifting the cover to look at the page with the print date. "...2005."

There's the slight hint of pen markings on the inside page.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Ah, shoot. OK, 2005. Not an antique, just used," Clint nods, his remote interest in literature kind of showing at this point.

Streching his arms for a moment, then putting his feet on the floor, the archer nods. "As long as the stories don't keep you up at night," he states, "I hear more recent authors can write true scary stories. But yeah, I'm no specialist, but I think the original master of an art is often the best. And well, it's often nice to quote them in certain circumstances I guess."

Nick Drago has posed:
"Not an antique." Nick agrees, closing the cover, "But you're not wrong in thinking it has some value. And don't worry. The stories won't keep me up. I've read them too many times."

Nick smiles, "I'll try not to be one of those people who feels the need to quote someone every five minutes."

Clint Barton has posed:
"Right, names and quotes dropping is so overrated," the archer states, "And inefficient most of the time in achieving its goal."

Now getting on his feet, Clint nods at Nick, a departing salutation, "I'll have to get going now. Some report to write." Large grin. "Not to say I'll actually write them, just finding yet another reason to /not/ write them. If you need anything, you know how to find me. Or find someone who knows."