Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	All the way home, Clint Barton has been carrying a middle-sized cardboard box bare of any markings. By the look of it, the content isn't heavy at all. Nonetheless, the archer seems to be extra cautious while carrying it. "Hey, Keyboard," Clint says as he enters their Brownstone house, closing and locking the door behind him. "Check this out, I've volunteer for a mission, well, if you can call it that." As he speaks, the archer moves to the living room, placing the box on the coffee table in front of one of the large couch. Truth be said, Hawkeye didn't /really/ volunteer. Actually, for once in a blue moon, the archer lost a bet. So, the winner of the bet, the R&D guy at SHIELD, tasked Clint with part of an assignment that was already slated, only with someone else than the archer. It never crossed the archer's mind that the assignment, or task, seemed quite easy considering the bet that led to it. Maybe /too/ easy. "You can open it," Clint says, pointing at the box as he drops on the couch, "All we have to do, is take care of it for a night." And of course, /his/ task automatically becomes /their/ task. Life is simple that way in Hawksterland.
Skye Johnson	Skye wandered in from the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee in tow. One brow quirked as he continued to explain. "What have you gotten us into this time?" Not only were they a couple, but they were partners in SHIELD. Sure they did lots of solitary missions, but were just as often paired up with one another. So when Clint came in with a mission that wasn't very hard according to R&D you can bet her hackles were already raised. With the added bonus that Clint was the one who had accepted the mission.. it could have been /anything/. "What do you mean? Take care of it for the weekend? It's not a weapon?" Something that Clint would have been gungho about. Toys!! Skye gave him a peck on the cheek. And turned away to study the box before opening it. It didn't look like a dangerous weapon. Curious. With her coffee set down, she began to open it.
Clint Barton	While Skye opens the box, Clint reaches for her mug- having some coffee in the process - making sure to leave enough for Skye. The archer remains seated, not curious about the content of the box as he was introduced to it at R&D. Lacking curiosity about it, and any kind of enthusiasm. Still, the nature of the very /task/ remains strange, and maybe the archer starts to think that there might be something more to it. "I dunno, take care of it, they said. Definitely not a weapon. I suspect it's a gift for someone's daughter and they can't bring it home in advance in case the kid finds it. So yeah, all we have to do is make sure the cats do not destroy it. Should be easy enough."
Skye Johnson	When she unwraps the parcel, and removes a doll, Skye gives Clint a strange look. "Okay, what's the deal here? Are you joking? It's a doll. I mean, put it back in its box and wait until they come and get it. What's the catch?" Really she was thinking: what's the joke? As one of the company's longtime couples, she had fended herself, and Clint, about the inevitable marriage plans (none of your business, it's between Clint and I), and recently several people had jokes about when were they going to have kids (no fucking way). But this joke was above and beyond anything that they had tried before. She threw the doll back in its wrapping. "Gimme some of that coffee."
Clint Barton	Oh, he made sure not to drink all the coffee! Watching her reaction, the archer wouldn't want to see it /without/ coffee in her system! Placing his feet on the coffee table, Clint shakes his head, "Naw, don't see more in it," the archer suggests, "Like I said, it's just a matter of keeping it away from kid's eyes before their birthday." Which is quite possible, really! Guys working in R&D might have kids after all, right? "We'll leave it there in the box, and I'll return it tomorrow. Voila." With a light kick of his foot on the side of the box - like you would do to a dead animal to check if it was dead, Clint adds, "If the guy is there. Can't recall his name." //MY NAME IS BELLA! WHAT IS YOUR NAME??// The sudden strident childish voice echoing in the living room, sounding a bit mechanical, makes the archer jump from the couch, looking around. It has the same effect on the sleeping cats, now running to the bedroom, hissing. "What the hell. Where did it come from?"
Skye Johnson	Mmm coffee. "I swear.." And then the doll talked. Loudly. WTF?? "Hotshot, someone is playing a trick on us. Turn off the doll. Please. Ugh." There was one more reason not to have kids: the noise. "Who names their kid Bella, anyway?"
Clint Barton	"Don't want to be picky here, Skye, but Bella is the doll, not the kid." As he talks, Clint reaches into the box, retrieving the doll. Turning it over and over, looking for an ON/OFF switch or, in last resort, a battery, the archer frowns. "Damn, can't find any blasted switch on this doll." And as if to protest of the manhandling, the doll comes to life again. // MY NAME IS BELLA! // Pause. //LEAVE ME ALONE, JERK! // Staring at the doll in his hands, Clint blinks for a moment. Did he hurt the doll, or something? This is crazy. But since /Bella/ doesn't like him, the archer extends his arm and drops the doll on Skye's lap. "She might feel better with you." Right, funny. NOT. Once on Skye's lap, the doll rests on her back, STARING right at Skye. // MY NAME IS BELLA. HELLO SKYE! // Oh, it seems that the doll is either possessed, or has some AI programmed in it, for Bella learned Skye's name already.
Skye Johnson	"I know it's a doll! I was just commenting on who names their kid.. You know what, it doesn't.." The doll had different ideas. Starting with calling Clint a jerk. Skye started at it, and then Clint. "What the..?" It might have been funny, except Clnt deposited her on her lap. "I'm not a girly-girl? I have never wanted to have babies. Just because I'm a girl? Who's joke is th--" The doll had other things to say about that. Bella was on her back looking at Skye adoringly. Well, adoringly isn't the right word, but compared to Clint? The doll definitely preferred Skye. For now. But Skye didn't want anything to do with it. Sitting with her hands and arms held out and back she gave a look to Clint that can only be interpreted as 'Help Me!'.
Clint Barton	"Afraid a of lil' dolly, Skye?" Clint jokes, but nonetheless comes to her rescue, taking the doll - almost delicately! - and placing her on the other couch, facing the turned-off TV. "Let's ignore her for now. Come, let's make fresh coffee?" And on that, Clint turns to go to the kitchen, leaving Skye alone in the living room with Bella. Now that they are alone, and if Skye gives it her attention, the doll's head sloooooooooowly turns to glance at her. The printed smile on her rag-doll face remains the same, always, as she speaks. // MY NAME IS BELLA. I WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU, SKYE! ARE YOU SCARED? I WON'T HURT YOU. //
Skye Johnson	"Ha. Ha." Skye glowers at him. "I better not find out you were behind this joke. If it's out here, I'll be in the kitchen doing my work. How long did you say we would keep it?" Already she was contemplating the back corner of the front hall closet. Surely Clint wouldn't disagree? She quickly gave it a glance. Big mistake! Big mistake indeed. The doll turned its head and stared at her. And then spoke. "How can it? I mean.." She lowered her voice, and continued, "This house is supposed to be almost impossible to break into. Where are they getting information from?" Because the doll seemed to know a lot about them.
Clint Barton	In the kitchen, Clint is busy fixing fresh coffee - something tells him that the night might be long and sleepless! "Naw, Clint reassures Skye, "I guess the doll has a voice reconnaissance system, doubled with a high level AI. I mentioned your name, and the doll registered it, is all." Is all, right? While the archer tries to reassure Skye, both having their backs to the living room where Bella seems quiet, things seem to settle down. Raising his hand to request silence for a moment, Clint listens carefully. "See? All's quiet. All will be fine, it's only a doll." And just on cue, murderous cries of a feline nature, hissing and all, resonate from the living room. "What the hell now? Quick, before the cats destroy it!" Indeed, the doll - as despicable as it is - is under the archer's care for the night, and must be returned to its owner in one piece, unscathed. At this point, Clint is almost convinced that it is a new form of weapon - one to have people ready for the loony house! As he runs toward the door to the living room, Clint stops in his tracks. Bella is attempting to strangle one of the cats! // MY NAME IS BELLA! PLAY WITH ME! //
Skye Johnson	"You might be right?" After all, while AI wasn't her speciality, she did know some about it. "I guess you are right." And with those R&D folks who knows what other things they put in there. *shudder* "I swear, tomorrow you are going to give it back. And you can give my review." Which is an extreme 'fuck you', and 'would not try it agaon'. Negative billionity. Skye was just about to enjoy her coffee, when suddenly the hissing, and screeching, and what have you, grew from the living room. In her head she applauded the cats who had come down to see what the noise was, and decided to rip it apart with prejudice. But that was just her inside voice. Her outside voice had to agree with Clint. "Better see what's happening. For all we know, Grant will use it as a litter box in protest." When in reality what they saw was infinitely worse. Quickly, Skye tried to get Bella off of the cats, while she told Clint, "Get the cats away from the doll. Damn, we are going to pay for this." Providing they could extricate the cats safely. The doll seemed to have a really good grip on, you guessed it, Grant - the uber opinionated of the two cats. Greeeeeeat.
Clint Barton	Trying to rescue Grant from Bella's grip, the most dangerous part of the operation. Amazingly enough, despite the doll being made of cloth - being a rag doll - the cats' claws didn't even make a single tear on it. That's the good news part. The bad news part comes to Clint when he grabs poor suffocating Grant - knowing the cat, the archer secretly believes it's all fake - the first tears appear. But NOT on the doll, rather on Clint's forearms. Supported by some well chosen curse words, and with Skye's help, both doll and cat are finally separated. Grant, still hissing like a wet cat, doesn't need much arguments to retreat into the bedroom, now protected by the closed door. Rubbing the back of his head, blood dripping from his arms, the archer peruses the living room, locating the doll. Like he would locate a target before striking. "We need to secure it somewhere," Clint whispers, as if he was afraid the doll would listen and understand. "The basement? Heck, guess she could escape through the windows." // MY NAME IS BELLA! THIS IS MY HOUSE! //
Skye Johnson	"Not the basement! Are you kidding me?!?" That's where the hub for her internet was, all secure. Very secure. Plus the archery range. Imagine this doll getting into that? No way. Not a chance. Looking at Clint's arms, Skye winces. "None of our living spaces are suitable for kids, let alone a doll." That's right. With one fell swoop, Bella had put dolls ahead of children. ~Our bedroom? We can shore it up for the night. Have pizza. Watch movies." Ha!. "And we have a bathroom right there.~
Clint Barton	Oh damn, Skye's right: the basement here isn't quite as bare as the one at his apartment building. Dang. But Skye is right, maybe the doll only wants a quiet, family-like evening? Pizza and movies, sure. Whatever it takes, for this night to not turn into a worst nightmare. Gently - more than he would care to, but unwilling to take chances at this point - the archer picks up the doll from the floor, careful not to stain it with his bloody arms. Sitting on the couch in front of the TV, Clint places the doll right in the middle of the couch, him being at one end and leaving the other end free for Skye. r"OK, let's try this. Sitting, quietly, eating pizza and watching TV. All'll be fine." ~ We will sleep in turn. No way we leave it from eyesight. ~
Skye Johnson	Carefully Skye sits down at the other side of the couch. "How about Gino's for dinner?" Because there was no way in hell that she was going to prepare a meal. And even less to babysit the doll while Clint does it. ~Agreed. I can take the wee hours, while you sleep. I'm up generally anyways. We'll make it work. And tomorrow we will hit up the pet store to buy ourselves forgiveness.~
Clint Barton	So it seems to be settled, they will sit there, with the doll by their side, split the sleeping hours, and be ready to return the doll first thing in the morning. But then it hits the archer, that the whole situation is wayyyyyyyyy too ridiculous. ~ This is crazy. I am not keeping it here. I have to take care of it. But it can be anywhere. Trisk. Cell. ~ While they both use sign language to discuss, the doll is staring at the TV screen just in front of the couch. Reallllllly staring, particularly at the reflection on it. // MY NAME IS BELLA! I READ SIGN LANGUAGE, YOU DUMMIES! //
Skye Johnson	That does it. "Okay, you come here and are a guest in my house. For one thing, I don't care who made you." She does, but that's another matter. "But while you are in my house we have simple rules. You don't call people stupid, jerk, dummies, or the like. This house is a safe place." "Furthermore, the cats belong here. This is their house. If you don't like it, too bad. There's the front door. We don't strangle them. Or yell at them." Skye was getting to the point of her lecture. She took 'Bella' by the arm, and walked (stormed?) to the front door. "You can come back when you agree to be nice. Otherwise, the Trisk is over there." She gestured in the vague direction of the Trisk. And without waiting shut the door on the doll. "Don't. Even. Ask. I couldn't care less at this time. With luck she'll be run over by a transport truck." Skye sits down.