Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	Arrows always find their targets, chances that one of them misses and hits someone by accident are pratically nil. Nonetheless, the SHIELD employees presently in the athletics area of the Triskelion keep a safe distance from where Hawkeye is positioned, and shooting targets. Once in a while the archer stops, time to change the arrowhead for another one picked out of a small tray: these are brand new ones he's actually testing. A few of them have already been thrown on the floor and discarded. "C'mon, guys!" the archer talks to himself, "What's hard to understand? /Heath sensor/. Simple? This crap couldn't sense an elephant in a barn. Damnit." There goes another arrowhead on the floor, resting under an empty bench a few feet away.
Skye Johnson	Skye had picked the wrong time to put in a little practice on her bow. Mostly she worked out in the evening, and sometime, when she was still up, in the morning. Mostly, she did it for calm. And now that she had extra abilities it was even more important to take the time for herself. She took the place beside his. "Oooh you're getting b a dd baddddd." She laughed. "New toys from research and development, huh?"
Clint Barton	What was a rather frustrating practice and testing session suddenly turned into a pleasant session. Skye's presence has that effect on the archer. Annoyed as he can be with the faulty arrowheads - well, they are faulty for him - he can't stop a grin from creeping on his face. "Hey, watch it, Keyboard," he replies, in an amused voice, "I might want to test 'em on you. See if I'm bad." Shrugging, he smirks and nods towards the set of new arrowheads. "Toys? Pile of crap, yeah. Good thing I'm outsourcin' a bit for new ones."
Skye Johnson	Skye Johnson says, "Let me guess, these weren't designed by the wonder twins? Better you than me. Beside you are the resident arrow pusher." Skye stopped and nodded with her chin. "What are they?" She slowly gets out equipment and string her bow. "You know, we should pop down to the shop and see what they got in the last little while." And Skye meant for her also!"
Clint Barton	Glancing at the array of arrowheads, Clint shakes his head. "Naw, they are SHIELD's," he says. "I asked for some specifications, they are not to my taste is all." Equipping another arrow with yet another new arrowhead, the archer quickly aims and shoots. Bullseyes, of course. "Unbalanced. Damnit." Or maybe, he's just in a bad mood. Lowering his bow, he watches Skye as she gets ready to shoot. "Yup, we should get to the shop," he says, then adds in a lower, "I'm outsourcing for some /magic/ ones. Can't wait to have them."
Skye Johnson	"Outsourcing?" Skye put her arrow down. "Your not meaning.. are you?" Ohhhh yes. He's back on the hunt for his father. She frowns. "Talk to me?"
Clint Barton	Ah. Le sigh. Skye is definitely too good and wise. Or it's a matter of him not being the most subtle. Silent for a moment, and despite the seriousness of the conversation which might sound quite ordinary to anyone else, Clint then offers his companion his most boyish grin, one used when he feels like being caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. "Hey," he starts, "I'm just getting prepared for anything, you know." He pauses, tilting his head, looking at her, "You wouldn't want anything bad happenin' to me, right?" Even on a trip to Hell, literally.
Skye Johnson	"Noooo," Skye is not certain what answer she should give. Mind you, he was a big boy, and would do whatever he thought would solve this problem. Didn't she expect from him while she tried to figure out her own maternal problems? "What have you got new? Anything I could help you on?"
Clint Barton	It's quite typical for Hawkeye to consider a challenge, then to review all the possible obstacles, and finally come up with so many ways to counter any of the possible problems, that in the end, he becomes overconfident about a mission. Not to the point of becoming careless in his preparation, but certainly to the point - which might be worst - of being excited about something that many would consider bordering on a suicidal mission. "I'm getting it all covered," he assures, "Magic arrows from Wanda, special magic protection thanks to this young lady," which, as a master spy, he doesn't name, "And I plan on meeting with Dr. Strange. Surely, if anyone has a clue about Hell, he should. Only then," he insists on this point, "I'll decide if I go or not. That's when I'll need you, to put some sense in my brain." And he laughs at that!
Skye Johnson	That? Was when she laughed. "Sooo. You're going into hell. Great." Skye had to laugh, or else she would cry. Or worse. "And who is this mystery person, other than Wanda, that is cheering you on?" At least Dr. Strange might talk him out if it.