(2014-12-05) Shadow Operators
Shadow Operators
Summary: There's time for one more meet and greet before it's the potential end of the world as they know it. (Language)
Date: IC Date (2014-12-05)
Related: http://ageofheroesmux.wikidot.com/log:2014-12-04-bullet-time-cinematics
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: NA
Social/Plot: Plot

Cold. Wet. Rainy. Dark. Just perfect. Winter is really coming, and it's not just a pithy catch phrase from a television series. Honest.

The lights have gone on in Battery Park, but there are so few people within the confines that it almost doesn't matter but for the vagrants, the muggers, and, well… SHIELD agents.

Clint Barton is perched on one of the few rocks, a leg propped up in front of him. He's got a quiver sitting on his hip, laying flat against the boulder, his stick-bow in a sock on the other side, unstrung. (Someone just came out of archery practice?) Steam rises from a cup in hand, or rather, two hands as proof against the cold.

Meetings between spies are always fun! Who needs an office?


Wearing a long black coat over what could be described as a black SHIELD uniform. Neither are made of fibers. More likely some form of neoprene. Agent Blackout wears his mask and blends in completely with the night. Stepping next to Agent Barton, Blackout takes a knelt position so that he may be nearto the same level as his fellow SHIELD agent. He says in a muffled voice, "It's a lovely evening."


"You realize just how unfair that is, right?"

The voice comes from a woman standing not too far away from Clint, her skin as pale as the snow to the point of looking almost blue in the shadows. "You get to sit out here with a bow and quiver and nobody gives a shit. I try to do that with one of my rifles and people start running away screaming and I get to spend my dinnertime with New York's finest."

Yeah, here's Domino.

"Flippin' cold out here, why couldn't we do this somewhere..I don't know, with a functional heater? Really, you people."


Clint looks up into the night, but there's too much light pollution to really see the stars. Or much of anything. And it's raining. "It sucks, but who'd suspect that we're actually talking about earth-shattering stuff out here? Anyone smart," and the archer looks at Domino pointedly, "would be inside. With heat. And a beer. And a pool cue."

The comments about the bow brings a smirk to Barton's face, and he offers a light, single-shouldered shrug. "Everyone underestimates the archer. I don't mind that. The moment someone actually puts a sight on me, life gets more interesting." 'Interesting' is undoubtedly defined differently by a SHIELD agent.

"Domino, Blackout. Blackout, this is Domino. Don't know if you met, but if this goes off and soon, you guys are going to be working together. She's got infiltration skills, and is just… well, useful."


"We've met." states Blackout in a peaceful tone while appearing to gaze at Domino. He follows with a statement more direct intent toward Barton, "Which is the reason I'm here. It's my intention to toss my name into the Mongo hat. Once there, I can increase our stealth and travel ability. I just need the right people to agree to allow me off planet. Do that, and I'm your guy."


"What, are all of the secure locations already checked out tonight?" Domino challenges Clint. "You work for the damn Division and you couldn't even grab us a panel van?"

Stopping under the relative cover of a tree with a sigh, keeping her hands stuffed deep into long coat pockets, she looks toward Blackout with an incline of her chin. "Yeah," she confirms. "A few times. Guy gooped me something fierce in an alley a couple months back. There was last Oktoberfest when he dipped your arm in the gunk. At a couple of diners. At least we're past the 'trying to kill each another' stage, should be smooth sailing from there."

Blink. "Wait. You need -permission?- I thought SHIELD was all on board with handling this sitch?"


Clint takes a swallow of the rapidly cooling drink, feeling the dampness of the evening beginning to soak into his coat. Hot shower when he gets home.

"Panel vans are in motorpool. Don't feel like signing one out. Besides," and a glance is cast in the albino's direction, "I know how you drive."

Blackout's responses gain a nod from the Field Agent. "I'll talk to the Big Guy. This has Priority One stamped all over it." Except when other little skirmishes that are immediate problems crop up. Like the damned Russians moving bits and pieces into the Ukraine. Or Poland shifting all their forces east to meet any threats. "I don't doubt that you'd be an asset for a second."

The coffee is almost a write-off, and another sip only proves it. Pouring it out on the side of the boulder, he tosses the cup away for Public Works to find it in a couple of years. Maybe.

"We have departments, Dom. We have to pull people off assignments to get put on others. We all have our tasks. We have our jobs."


There's little else Blackout wished to express. Having heard the affirmation that Barton would be seeking permissions from higher up, he has little else to offer or request. He will sit quietly and listen to Barton explain to Domino how things work back at SHIELD.


"Yeah, a helluva lot better than you," Domino teases Clint in return. But..no panel van. No heater. She'll just target the guy with her grumpiness, as usual.

Departments. "Well lucky me that you managed to pull in a couple of names that I already know." It makes things easier, right? Of course, "I suppose that explains part of why I'm here." She didn't need to get pulled out of another department so much as get pulled right off of the streets.

Finally pulling a hand from a pocket and stepping closer, she runs fingertips through her tangled mop of soaked black hair, her breath misting faintly in the air as she looks from one agent to the other. Her expression has vastly sobered up within these last few steps. "This is crazy, right? I can't be the only one that thinks this is crazy. I keep waiting for a dorky announcer to jump out of a bush and go 'surprise, you've been had!' Though I'll warn you both, if that happens then someone's getting shot before I go home tonight."

Oh, right! "Oh, hey. I caught up with Wagner earlier tonight. He's on board, ten hundred sharp. We're green across the board in Undergroundtopia, kiddos."


"You just find the cars that drive themselves," is sent in return. "Stealing someone's mid-life crisis. Shame on you." Couldn't be her Jag, right? Clint shifts his position on the rock and glances back at Blackout. "We have Wagner. A teleporter. Have to use him sparingly because where-ever he teleports, you get the stench of rotten eggs. Still puts me off my coffee when he does that. But, it's useful to move around. And the others, you know."

The hip quiver is pulled off his belt so it doesn't sit on the damp boulder any longer than they have to. The fletchings will wilt. "If that announcer comes out, I'll have a shot off before you do." Clint is serious when he says that, too! Unstrung bow and everything. "So yeah. Someone will definitely get shot."

Now, the Senior Field Agent looks between the pair. "Any questions I can't answer?"


There's a subtle shake of his masked head as Blackout denies, "No questions. Just let me know when and where and I'll be there." He looks Domino's way, says her name, "Dom." and then slips backwards off the rock into a portal that swallows him within its darkness. With that, Blackout is gone.


With the promise voiced Domino turns to look at Clint for a moment, silent as she finally nods once in acknowledgement. She'll ignore the whole deal about cars driving themselves, she doesn't feel the need to prove anything to the guy. Knowing that he would shoot an announcer? That's good enough for her.

She doesn't say anything when Blackout pulls his vanishing act, either. "Sometimes it feels like we're the only two idiots on the planet that can't do that…" she quietly says to the archer. Then motioning toward where he had departed with her chin once more, she seconds "What he said. When and where. We'll be there."


Clint nods at Blackout's words; Clint's dead serious when it comes to this mission. "We got this." Because if they don't? He knows he's got the best team out there, and if it doesn't work, nothing would.

Once the other agent is gone, Clint finally slides off his perch and stomps his feet to get feeling back into them. "Great. Now I need a really hot shower and sit by the fireplace and drink." Not coffee. There's a pause just after he picks up his knit bow-sock. Dipping his head slightly, he casts his gaze towards the merc. "I appreciate you tagging Wagner again. I'm gonna ask you to be his handler. Not his partner. He doesn't have to ride with you. But you need to ride him when he's off. Okay?"


"Panel van," Domino almost cheerfully reminds Clint as he grumbles about the cold.

With the request that follows she dips her head back down, hands in pockets, letting the rain fall from the ebony spikes dangling across her face. "Way ahead of you, Barton. You've got your own people to worry about." (And I'm getting paid to kick that furry blue ass into shape.)

Looking back up with her head canted to one side, she says "Just tell me what you need done and I'll make it happen. We'll be back to swapping insults free as the breeze in no time."


"Yeah, gotta make more friends in motorpool." Clint can't even drop his hands into his pockets to warm them. So blowing on fingers is going to have to suffice. A grunt of acknowledgment comes; he's not going to repeat himself. Not when there's a hot shower (Yes, he paid his water bill!) and a fire waiting for him.

"See you then, Dom. And thanks."

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