Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	Clint had made all the arrangements coordinating with Fury and Lar so Lar could come to the Trisk to get looked at. When the time comes, Clint is wafting on the bridge to the Triskelion dressed casually but for his navy-blue jacket with the SHIELD patches on the shoulders. The archer looks relaxed, leaning against one of the railings while he waits for his friend to arrive. He hums tunelessly. Inside, the med labs there's a lot more going on, armed guards block off a section of the lab, and inside doctors Streiten and Goodman get ready to examine Lar. The lab is high-tech (by Earth standards) but some of the sensors set up go a step or two beyond the rest.
Mon-El	Clint probably won't miss Lar approaching from the sky, his body like a bullet cutting through the air. He slows down as he descends, landing right in front of his friend as gently as possible so as to hopefully not damage the walkway. He's holding a palm-sized vial of some colorless liquid.     Lar smiles at the archer upon arrival, quickly examining the ground as if to make sure he hasn't damaged anything. "Clint." he says with a nod. "Thank you for doing this."
Clint Barton	Clint definitely sees Lar coming, breaking into a grin as he does. "Lucky son of a bitch," he mutters about the flying. He didn't mind being the normal guy most of the time but damn being able to fly looked fun. When Lar lands, Clint glances down at the deck too, "All good," he says before coming forward and offering him a hand, at first it's open for a shake, but he changes his mind at the last second and makes a fist for bumping. "No problem, glad you could make it," he says then glancing skyward, asks, "She not coming?" he means Kara.
Mon-El	Lar chuckles, having heard that little mutter. "I bet you wouldn't be saying that when you're having a hard time picking up your, um, beer without breaking the container. Or when that beer actually won't make you even a little bit tipsy no matter how many bottles you drink." he points out.     The Daxamite doesn't quite get the memo on the fistbump, and ends up just trying to...shake Clint's fist? Which is awkward. He shakes his head about Kara. "No, she...has decided that she trusts my judgment." he explains.
Clint Barton	Clint laughs, "Heard that huh?" he asks before looking down at his arm and flexing. "Who says they don't?" he jokes about breaking beer bottles. "Though touche," he says of that last part. "And really, no amount of booze gets you drunk? That's rough buddy." The mix up with the bro-fist earns a second laugh and Clint corrects him, throwing in an 'exploding' fist on his part just to keep it light. "Terran greeting for friends," he explains, before giving a little nod about Kara. "Gotcha, glad she came around. We promise, we won't brainwash you so she can say told you so." He flashes a grin and chucks his head back towards the doors, "So, they should be set up by now, you ready?"
Mon-El	"Yeah, I hear everything." Lar tells Clint, and he's not kidding. He smirks at the jest. "Oh, really? You should show me sometime." A nod at the comment about booze. "Nothing on Earth, anyway. 'Booze', is that another term for it? Odd."     "Oh so another hand thing?" he laughs. "I see. Well, you'd better not." he says with regard to the remark about Kara. "Not that I'd know the difference." he says jovially. No reason not to trust them, really!     Then it's right down to business. He nods and starts to head inside, holding the vial he brought out to Clint once they're inside. "This is XY-4. It's the key to...well, everything. My life, my powers. Without it, I'll lose my strength quickly and eventually die. It's--why I robbed that museum before. The truth is, I'm deathly allergic to lead. Which, as you know, is everywhere on this planet. This serum is the only thing keeping me from dying from it."
Clint Barton	"Sure, will get right on that," Clint smiles and then nodding to Lar, "Yeah, booze, hooch, the sauce, we've got a lot of names for it," he explains. "Which probably says a lot about our culture, but there it is." Clint nods, "Yep, another hand thing. We have a lot of those too. Anyhow, so, you can't drink, stuff breaks in your hand if you're not careful, what do you do to relax?" As they head inside, he takes the vial carefully, taking a look, not that he knows what he's seeing. He looks up though, expression serious and pulls Lar to the side. "This is a lot of trust Lar, and it's the sort of thing you can't take back, you sure you want to go down this road?" Clint trusted SHIELD but at the same time giving over your one weakness, it made Lar vulnerable, and, hey Clint liked the guy. "I mean we're not going to mass produce it or anything, but, just be sure."
Mon-El	"Oh, sometimes I mess around in the simulator on the cruiser, or fly around in space." Lar answers. "Lots of nice views out there."     Then his face sobers at the question about trust. He sighs. "I know, Clint. But if I've learned anything during what little time I remember of being on this planet, it's that if I lose it for some reason--someone needs to be able to stop me, and fast. The last time that happened, we were lucky enough that a magic user was nearby, but even then, it took the combined efforts of several powerful individuals to put an end to it and make sure no one was seriously injured. Next time we might not be so lucky...next time it might be too late. Your organization has the ability to maintain constant vigilance and to act no matter where and when it happens, if I'm not mistaken. So, truthfully, you are the ones best equipped for this."
Clint Barton	"Oh, just fly around space," Clint smirks. "I see, just a Tuesday, up in space!" he exclaims good naturedly and shakes his head. "And people say my life's crazy." Clint's expression is grim, but he nods, holding up the vial. "Let's hope we don't have to use it for more than your procedure then, man." He nods, then leads Lar to the med-lab, the armed guards letting them through. "They're here for the equipment not for you," Clint explains. "They brought out some of our highest end scanners for this." The doctors turn as they enter, white haired, mocha skinned doctor Streiten coming over to greet them. "Agent Barton, Mr. Gand, it's good to see you," he says extending a hand to Lar. "Doc, this might be what you're looking for to get around the toughness factor," Clint says holding out the vial. When the doctor reaches for it Clint pulls it back at the last second. "It's also his life, be careful with it," Clint says before finally turning it over. Streiten takes it looking to Lar as much as Clint when he says, "We'll guard it with our lives," before looking to Clint. "Agent Barton, if you'd like to step aside, we'll get going on these scans." Clint nods and looks to Lar. "It'll be fine," he promises and then steps aside to let the doctors do their work. Streiten, gestures towards a dentist chair like assembly ringed with scanners. "If you'll step this way, and tell me a little bit more about how you lost your memories, it'll help us figure out what to look for."
Mon-El	"I hope so too." Lar replies. "But there is another reason for this...I'm not the only Daxamite here. A few weeks ago, terrorists from my homeworld came here looking for that." he says, nodding toward the vial. "They dosed themselves but it drove them mad since it has to be tailored to a user's particular genetic profile--as if they weren't nasty enough as it was. We defeated most of them, but first off our containment measures aren't going to hold out forever, and secondly--one of them is still at large. He needs to be stopped before he becomes too strong from absorbing your Sol's radiation. And before he finds a way to bring more like-minded people here from Daxam..."     He shakes the doctor's hand carefully. "A pleasure. Thank you for doing this. I know it won't be pleasant, but it's necessary." He sits down in the chair, ready for the scans.
Clint Barton	"Wait," Clint says, "There's more of you?" he asks, before shutting up to listen while Lar explains. "Huh," Clint says when he's done. "Okay, then when all of this is done, we'll get all the info we can on this guy from your homeworld, like you said, we have the ability to monitor most of the world, so, if he's out there we'll find him. What's he called?" Doctor Streiten leads Lar to the chair and together with Doctor Goodman they start the scans. "What we're doing is mapping your brain," he explains as the scanners circle Lar's head and hum. "Trying to see if the damage is detectable and if it is we believe we have a technique to reverse it. Provided we can get into your head of course," he says with a smile.
Mon-El	"His name is Res Vir." Lar answers to Clint's question. "These people are part of a group called the White Triangle who believe all other races are inferior and that Daxam should rule the galaxy... probably sounds at least somewhat familiar to you." he chuckles a little bit at that.     He nods and sits down, allowing the scans to do what they were designed to do. "You will, provided you can create an inhibitor of some kind for XY-4, the serum I just gave you a sample of. As for how I lost my memories...unfortunately I have no idea. I remember growing up on Daxam..vaguely. And then waking up here several months ago."
Clint Barton	Clint nods, "Yeah, I've met some guys with some similar philosophies," he says, "And so not the sort of guy we want getting superpowers, or, well, more superpowers," he frowns thoughtfully at that. "But it's just him and the rest are up on your ship?" The doctor nods, looking at his screen when the scans start coming in. "I understand, son," the man says calmly. "We'll see what the scans tell us then." They continue to run, humming and whirring until finally they stop. The doctors look at the screen talking quietly, Lar hearing them mention damage to the neural pathways, and something about a place called Tahiti? It's all very confusing. Doctor Streiten, looks up. "Excuse me, I have to make a quick phone call, but we may have a solution for you."
Mon-El	Lar nods in response to Clint's question. "Yes. Well, for now and as far as I know. But like I said, our containment measures probably won't hold forever."     When Dr. Streiten informs him that he may have a fix, Lar nods, his eyes lighting up with anticipation. "Oh, good! I was sincerely hoping you would. I've been trying to find a way to remember my life ever since I came here."
Clint Barton	"Right," Clint says about the extra Daxamites. "Well, SHIELD can coordinate with the Legion, maybe together we can work out something more secure." Clint frowns when the doctor has to make a phone call, "Hmm, that sounds ominous." And if Lar is listening to the doctor when he leaves the room he can hear the man talking to someone getting authorization to discuss a project and to use it to recover Lar's memories. The voice on the other end of the line approves and the doctor returns. Moving to the side of Lar's chair. "Good news, Mr. Gand, we should be able to assist you," he pulls up a hologram of Lar's brain. "It seems whatever was done to you damaged key neural pathways in the limbic system, most of which have a hand in controlling memory. We have a process, that, if successful should repair those pathways to the point they heal naturally, which with your impressive physiology should happen quickly. If you're willing to proceed, we can begin mapping out the repairs and formulating a way to counter the XY-4 in your system long enough to perform the procedure."
Mon-El	"That's what I was hoping for." Lar says with a smile. "Once your doctors have come up with an inhibitor for the serum, we can weaken them to more human levels and lock them away."     Watching the hologram when it comes up, he nods at the doctor. "Perfect. That's exactly what I was thinking. Just remember, it has to be just enough to weaken me...too much and I'll die from lead poisoning." But then he adds, "I mean, not that I don't have confidence in your ability to be careful. I'm sure that if you weren't the best of the best, you wouldn't be here."
Clint Barton	Clint gives the plan a nod. "Yeah, that could work," he says. "Yeah, doc, be careful with that," Clint chimes in regarding Lar and the serum. Doctor Streiten smiles patiently. "We'll need to run some tests, but I'm confident we can come up with the right balance," he assures Lar and Clint. Looking at Lar, Clint says, "So, this is a go?"
Mon-El	Lar nods firmly, getting up out of the chair. "It needs to be. I can't keep putting people in danger. And with the White Triangle at large, we need it now more than ever before. Let me know if you need me for any additional testing. You know how important it is that you get this right the first time...whatever Res is up to, it's not a question of whether he will make a move, it's a question of -when- he will. And the longer we wait, the longer he gets exposed to your star. Which means the more powerful he'll become."
Clint Barton	At Lar's nod Clint turns to the doctor, "Guess that's a yes, doc," he says before the doctor tells Lar, he'll be in touch shortly about further tests. Clint takes the info about Res in, saying, "Alright, well while the doctor cooks up the next round of tests, how about we see about getting the word out about finding Res, before he comes our way and punches the Triskelion into the sun."
Mon-El	"Of course. I'll send you whatever information the Legion has on him currently." Lar replies, heading for the door. "But, until we have the inhibitor working, I'd suggest you do not engage him, even if you see him. He's very dangerous and will not hestitate to kill anyone who gets in his way. I don't even think he considers Terrans--or any other race for that matter--to be of any more significance than a wild animal." Then he's out the door and back up into the sky where he came.