Owner	Pose
Lara Croft	Lara wasn't your average SHIELD agent, she wasn't a spy or an assassin or even a guard sent to protecting locations or important people. No, Lara Croft worked for the WAND department and she was specifically rostered as an 'Acquisitions Specialist', though many in the Triskelion just referred to her as a 'nerd' because she was often nose deep in a book or on her computer.. when she was even at the Triskelion at all. Those who knew her story though, who'd bothered to look into it... knew that she'd been through a lot and that the number of people she'd killed along the way on a remote Japanese island, couldn't even be confirmed and that it was officially slotted as 'A lot'. Infact, those who spoke about the island aspect of her background, were liable to refer to her as a 'creepy nerd'. As of right now, Lara was at a table by herself in the breakroom with her laptop in front of her, and a stack of books beside that. On the other side of the laptop were two unfinished cups of yogurt and a bottle of water. Lara sat there, reading from an open book and looking between it and her laptop's screen, her lips were gently moving as she was talking to herself but the words weren't any louder than mere whispers.
Mockingbird	The break room wasn't anything to write home about. In truth, it'd be more of a break room if people had the chance to relax a little but... beggars can't be choosers. Technically, there probably shouldn't be beer in the fridge but... Bobbi kept some there anyhow. Too bad. Wherever she's coming from, it's clear she hasn't spent the day here. Why? Because she smells of smoke, is covered in soot and is still bleeding from her arm and her cheek. She was likely ordered to report to medical. Instead, she's here. Grabbing a beer from the fridge and dropping onto the chair nearest to her. The top is popped, a brief and silent salute given to Lara in greeting, a long drink taken and then the blonde promptly drops her head to the table top.
Clint Barton	Coffee. Coffee usually can be found in break rooms, right? This is a haunt Clint can usually be found in for one reason or another. Either he's raiding the bagel supply, attacking the danishes or, yes, brewing up a pot of coffee for his personal use. The blond archer is doing just that at the moment, that is, brewing up a pot of coffee. He's got a mug set aside (small mercies), and while he waits, he's leaning against the counter, his hands on either side of him, just looking out into the room proper. The moving of the lips, well.. he's always working on his skills, and lipreading is actually one of them. "You know that's a security breach, right?" Like Clint is concerned with that in this room? "Some people can actually read lips. It's hard, though, I'll admit. I end up having to sing the alphabet song or something. Don't ask me to do m-..." Bobbi's entrance takes his attention, and brows rise as she effectively drags herself in, finds the beer... beer?! in the fridge. "Birdie? You okay?" That, of course, is followed quickly with, "I should have checked the fridge first." Disappointment abounds.
Lara Croft	Lara looked up from her book when she heard the man's voice and she saw Clint leaned there a small space away waiting for his coffee. "Mm?" She said to him, her dark brows rising up in question as she tried to catchup with what he'd just said to her. But thats when Bobbi showed up with her booze and Lara looked over at her... seeing her in such disarray. "Are you okay?" Lara asked her, having been in similar conditions herself, she figured Bobbi MUST be okay, just very worn down... thus the beer. But still, it was polite to ask. Lara looked back to Clint then. "Nobody wants to read these books except me, so I will take my risks with lip readers." She said with a small smile.
Mockingbird	"Nothin' that won't heal, Hawk." As if to prove just how tired she is, there's clear emotion in her voice. "Always check the fridge first. Did you learn anything when we were together?" She snorts a chuckle which causes her shoulders to jerk that in turn makes her groan. "My beer is not a security breech. Might piss off... whoever makes the rules about this room though..." Her head lifts, just as much as it has to, to look at Lara. "I'll be alright. Hawk's seen me pull through worse." She drops her head back down and idly holds the beer out to Clint. "He reads lips... I should learn to do that, actually...;5r Silence and then... "I think the bastard cracked a rib."
Clint Barton	The smell of coffee is beginning to permeate the room, and finally Clint simply can't stand the wait any longer. He removes the carafe from the burner and puts his mug there in its stead. As the coffee flows down into his mug, he's pouring the liquid caffeine into the mug at the same time. When filled, it's just a quick replacement with only a soft *hiss* as liquid hits the burner once. And there, he's got his coffee. Done. Pulling his mug up to sniff it first, Clint smiles tightly, but it's not unfriendly. "Yeah. I do. Trick I learned as a kid. It comes in pretty handy now, actually." And don't sell yourself short. It looked kinda interesting where I was standing." He looks over towards Bobbi again and shakes his head, a chuckle sounding now. "I'm not gonna teach you. You'll just get better than me. I gotta keep ahead somehow." It's concern, however, that crosses his features; broken ribs suck. A sympathetic wince flickers and he nods towards the door. "You gonna let the docs wrap you up? At least let 'em make sure you didn't puncture a lung." Of course, if she did, she'd be coughing up blood...
Lara Croft	Lara laid her book down onto her lap and then reached for her bottle of water. She hadn't even opened it yet. She'd flashed a small smile at Clint and then looked over to Bobbi with concern. "Your injuries could get worse if you don't tend to them soon." She said in a soft voice, not wanting to sound as naggy as she figured she must. "But, I certainly do not blame you for choosing alcohol over doctors." She smiled for Bobbi as well, a small expression but a genuine one. At Clint she looked again. "You're the one they refer to as Hawkeye?" She asked him. "I've been using some of your archery equipment in the training facilities... with May's permission... or.. Orders, even... She said it would be okay. I hope that it is." Her British accented voice was soft as she never truly felt that comfortable in social situations, especially with 'co-workers'. Though this was only her second official job, aside from the Bike Delivery service she was employed with briefly in London.
Mockingbird	"You still kick my ass when it comes to the bow, babe." Bobbi may not be able to see either of them but since the beer is still in her hand and she can smell coffee... The bottle is put back on the table. "Cracked... Not broken. And, no. I'm not seeing the doctor." She never has liked going to them. They tattle on her. She can't help but groan a chuckle at Lara. "I'll tend to them when I get home. I learned how to wrap ribs and stitch wounds ages again." Her voice softens. "Hawk there is the best archer I've ever met. If you're wanting, or needing, to learn... He's the one you want teaching you." Pushing herself up with a wince, the beer is left in favor of walking over to get coffee. Because now that she can smell it... "And he makes the best coffee EVER."
Clint Barton	Clint doesn't see a seconding of his opinion as nagging, not at all. So, he tips the coffee and takes that first sip, enjoying the flavor, the aroma before he catches that last bit of Lara's. There's a sputter, a cough, and coffee is flying forward in droplets as his lungs try and expel the hot liquid that was just breathed in. "What?" It's whispered hoarsely through the coughs, but it is there none-the-less. "What? Some of my..." *cough*sputter* Clint manages to set his coffee down before he loses what's left, or wears it before he leans forward a little to try and cough the rest of it out. Once he manages that feat, he has to wait a moment or three in order to draw in a full breath. Then, he's looking at Lara full on, staring. "What do you mean using my equipment in the training room? At May's orders? She can't do that. It's mine. It's like.. my taking her sticks or something." Hawkeye looks unhappy, and probably moreso because of his slightly red face due to the aspiration of coffee. "You can't stitch ribs up yourself, Birdie. You gotta have someone wrap you." Shaking his head, he cough-laughs softly, "Got my hands full without teaching. Coffee, sure.. but that's just because I like good coffee. I'm tired of drinking the stuff on the bottom of the pot."
Lara Croft	Lara looked between the two of them, unsure of the words that Bobbi said about treating herself. "I would hate for you to not get the medical attention you need to heal perfectly back to proper condition, Miss." She said softly to the other, but it was Clint's reaction that drew her eyes back to him. And she winced at it. "Thats how I assumed it would be. Yes." She said back at him. "May simply told me that the weapons team had given you more than you could ever truly use all yourself anyway, so that there was enough to... 'go around', so to speak." She showed a light frown then, and looked between. "I've been practicing archery since I was a child, its one of the few ways that I know of that helps me relax and unwind. This came up in my psych-evals, and its why May ordered me to the training room to do it." She put her eyes back on Clint. "I'll make sure to get my own equipment as soon as possible. I'm... sorry, sir." She said to him then, dropping her eyes to her laptop's screen once again.
Mockingbird	Bobbi's nose wrinkles slightly. "Not 'Miss'." And then she snorts. "No, Clint... But the ribs don't need stitched. The shoulder does." His coughing and puttering has her quickly setting the cup aside and reaching out to pat his back. "Easy, Hawk. May should've known better but the girl doesn't. Maybe get some training equipment brought in for her... Let her watch you instead of taking on a student..." Her eyes go over to Lara and soften slightly. "Hey... It's not your fault, alright? You couldn't have known. That equipment was specially designed for and order to his specification, is all." It's an extension of him. There's a light nudge on Clint's shoulder before Bobbi looks pointedly from him to the girl. 'Fix it, Hawk'.
Clint Barton	"Not her decision there. If that's what the weapons team gave me, that's what I get. Bullets are easy to come by. My arrows aren't. I don't get to just reload my tips. And my bows?" Grumpy Hawkeye. He turns around to deal with the coffee, pouring it out into the sink, his taste lost for the warming liquid. "She's not my handler, either. If Coulson said so, fine. I get that. He knows more about what goes on, but me and May? Same pay grade." The mug is set in the sink, and Clint turns the water on to fill it, a quick clean before he turns the water off again. "If you wanna shoot archery to calm down, I can give you a bunch of arrows I've made. Cedar shaft, target piles, tuned to 55 pounds. If you have a lighter bow, I'd have to make other stuff. What do you pull? 45? 40?" Clint? He pulls, well, some guess his is at a rock-hard 200 pounds, but he's not telling, but all his arrows are indeed tuned to his bow. His words, though, are something of an apology. His own way of 'fix it'. Bobbi's correction of where her particular injuries lie gains a chuff of breath from the archer, and he lifts a left hand to fingerwiggle the 'come here' to her. "Lemme look at it."
Lara Croft	Lara shrugged her shoulders and smiled over at Bobbi. "I should've assumed it wasn't right of me to do. At least not while here at work. I have my own stuff at home in England, but I haven't had the opportunity to pick stuff up here in the States as of yet. I'll do that soon then." She said between the two of them. Her eyes swept back over to Clint as he went into detail on his gear. She shook her head side to side once. "It depends on the kind of bow I'm using." She replied. "For a standard recurve, I go anywhere between fourty five to sixty, so as to not wear out the arms as quickly. But... if I'm using a Compound bow... well, its easier to go higher than that. But don't worry about it, I'll make time to go to a store tonight and buy some equipment to bring in." Lara sipped from her water bottle and looked back over toward Bobbi. "How did you get so beat up?" She asked then.
Mockingbird	Mockingbird knows an apology from Clint when she hears one. It makes her smile and, even as worn as she is, it still makes her features light up some. "You won't find arrows in a store as good as what Clint can make. Trust me." There's a roll of her eyes before she turns her back to Clint and pulls her shirt up and off. She's got a sports bra on under it. The wound on her shoulder is a knife wound and, yes, it likely needs a few stitches. Her side is bruised and one can almost see the impact pattern of a stool. "Work." ... "Sort off." She reaches out for her coffee with her free hand. "Someone made the mistake of trying to take something from me. It wasn't theirs to touch. It started a fight." Whatever it was must've been important. "Almost blew my cover. The powers that be aren't pleased." She doesn't sound like she cares where this is concerned.
Clint Barton	"Yeah. I bet your break is around 25 for the compound," and Hawkeye is nothing if not well versed in how bows work. "Then the 55s should work. Yeah, they'll be a little heavy and fly like logs on your 45, but should be fine for 50 to 60." He is trying to make some semblance of amends, and he adds, "I got 'em in my apartment. I can bring them by tomorrow, or later tonight. "I was in R&D earlier; it's why I'm at the office today. Picking up some new prototypes and see how they work. Trackers. Lights. Communication arrows. I needed more putty arrows, more grapple, and more taser." It's when Bobbi looks back at him that he pauses, his breath in his throat as she takes off her shirt. In the office, at work, it's all business. Honest. But... *cough. "C'mere, Bobs." Clint takes a half step forward to take a look and he *tsks* softly. "You're gonna need that stitched up. Strips won't do it." The archer believes in steri-strips! Looking over at Lara, it's taken this long to remember his manners, such as they are. "I'm Clint Barton. Most call me 'Hawkeye'. Except people in my apartment." They call him 'Hawkguy'. All very Brooklyn, and there he is, sounding a whole lot more Midwestern. "That's Bobbi Morse. Mockingbird."
Lara Croft	Lara winced when she saw the wounds more clearly upon Bobbi showing them off with the pulled off shirt. "That looks bad." She said softly to the other whilst Clint moved in closer to examine them. Lara listened to him speak further on the subject that is his speciality and she'd gently nod her head twice at him. "I dabbled in specialty arrows myself... though, nothing like what you're describing. Simple stuff, such as explosive and poison cloud. But yes, if you're volunteering some equipment, then I suppose I'd find nothing better in the world and I'd be a fool to turn them down." She showed a smile then before looking between them when their names were given. "I'm Lara." She replied, dipping her chin once in a nod. "Croft. Acquisitions Specialist, which... is really just a fancy word for Archaeologist, I suppose." She cracked a small grin then and reminded herself to breath and not be a weirdo. She did not do good with inter-personal relationships. Noting the ring on Bobbi's finger and how the two of them interacted, Lara sipped her water and then asked (based on what Bobbi'd said earlier about them being together). "You two were married?" She inquired, trying to be normal and spur up good conversation. Oh, poor Lara, go back to your books.
Mockingbird	"Then stitch it up or strips will have to do. You know they'll take me out of the field, spew crap about needing therapy for my shoulder and set me doing paperwork if I go in to have the docs stitch it up, Clint..." A look is given over her shoulder and, yes, Bobbi actually pouts at him. What? She's not above it. When she's introduced, a friendly smile is turned to Lara. "Nice to meet you, Lara. You can just call me Bobbi. And yeah, Clint's stuff is the best you'll find." The question causes the smile to fade slightly and her left hand where her ring sits to curl protectively, she turns her eyes back to her coffee because it's suddenly very interesting. "Yeah. We were." And both, for different reasons, would likely note the emotional tightness in her voice that wasn't there before. She refuses to look at either of them. For as good as Bobbi is... Some times, her emotions still get the better of her on rare occurances. And then she's pulling her shirt back on, ignoring the injuries. "Shit happened... Mistakes were made." She screwed up. ... Where'd she put that beer?
Clint Barton	"Great. I'll make sure you get them." Lara Croft. Clint will remember the name, sure, and then go spelunking into the database to see what he can find on her. Or, he'll ask someone else to do it. Someone who is a little better at computers than he is. "Isn't 'Acquisitions Specialist' another word for 'thief'?" Bobbi's shoulder is angry, and the red at the insult has Clint shaking his head. "I don't have anything here, Bobs. I know they'll sideline you, but it won't be as long as they did before." It's the question, //the// question that brings Clint up short, and when Bobbi starts to move away, he takes a step back. "Yeah." He's not wearing a ring, but should older pictures be found of the agent, it had been a plain gold band. "Stuff gets in the way." A step to the side is taken, and he gestures towards the door with a left hand, "I'll go get those arrows for you. Figure you're doing some studying," he reads lips, after all, "And I didn't want that coffee anyway."
Lara Croft	Lara cracked a grin at the 'thief' remark from Clint, then she looked between them after her question had hit both of them... 'Oh god.' she told herself internally. She quickly took another drink from her water bottle and nodded her head several quick times to what both of them said. "I understand." She said softly at them, even though she didn't. She'd never even been in a relationship, let alone a marriage. Relationships terrified her more than leaping off ledges above bottomless chasms. "Yes, I'm working with... Well, a famous archaeologist, on tracking something down from his past. I believe SHIELD had the object in their possession at one point in history, but it would seem that they no longer do." Lara would look back to Clint then. "Thank you, for the arrows. I'll, return them at... some, point." When exactly do you return an item like that? She wasn't sure. Lara exhaled and looked back to her books, lifting her right hand to push some her her unkempt brown hair back behind her right ear. Internally she was telling herself to shush up.
Mockingbird	A look is shot to Lara but instead of it being one of anger, Bobbi actually looks thankful. And then she grins. "Probably not... but thank you for bringing it up..." Her eyes flit over to Clint as he tries to tuck tail and run. "Barton... 'Stuff' didn't get in the way. I did. And we both know it. I fucked up. I was hurt and angry... And I lashed out." And then two words she very rarely utters. "I'm sorry." She also knows he needs time to process so... "We'll meet you in the training room..." Her attention turns back to Lara and she downs the rest of he beer before grinning. "C'mon. You can tell me about it while you should me what you've been practicing. Since it looks like I'll have some down time coming up, maybe I can help you search." Because, apparently, she'll be going to the doctors and getting stitched up.