Post by RazzleDazzle on Jan 30, 2022 9:52:29 GMT -6
(01/16/22 : 18:47:18)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon:
The way things had been going, they were no longer spies. It didn’t feel like they were spies, anyways. It felt very much like they were playing hero. No one on Fury’s “Avenger” list had a cape, or none that Clint was aware of, but it all felt very strange and bombastic and…. Clint wasn’t sure he liked it. He never considered himself much of a hero. He was a soldier. There was never a target he couldn’t hit. No goal never met. Just as he pointed arrows into their destination, he was to be guided much the same and he liked it that way. He’d leave the “hero” shit to the likes of Cap.
But maybe there was a need for all this spy business. Fury hadn’t completely bought all in on this Super-Team ideal, and SHIELD was still in the spy game. Clint and Natasha were two of the best operatives in the game and they’d been sidelined for the superbowl slots. If Clint wasn’t a fan, he knew Natasha likely wasn’t. Or maybe she had warmed to the idea.
(01/16/22 : 19:09:07)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: ”meetings” -she muttered, followed by something in hushed Russian as she walked along his side- ”explosions and meetings.” -perhaps their thought patterns had been similar in that moment. She made a little bit of a face and then gave a shrug- ”explosions have their place. But meetings…” -she scrunched her nose a little and shook her head. a small hand rose to the back of her neck, rubbing into the constantly tensed muscles at the nape of her auburn hair- ”we should go eat after. I feel like we haven’t eaten in a while.” -probably not true. But it was the American thing she liked best. Going to eat. Not even out of hunger. just….for the hell of it. Bored? Lets go eat. Angry? Lets go eat. Tired of being a hero? Lets go eat. She glanced over at him with a half smile and shrugged before walking through the doors like she owned the room-
(01/16/22 : 19:34:08)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: *The American economist, Thomas Sowell once remarked, "People who enjoy meetings should not be in charge of anything". But Nick had certain motives to call a this meeting, perhaps ulterior motives even! New intel gleamed from the recent raid on the big Sentinel base days ago had lead to a series of strange bits of cryptic information that Nick had been diligently working on. He had the usual eggheads and labs doing intelligence break down of the prisoners and materials captured at the raid, but Nick himself had been doing some very intent research himself. Somewhat unusual, something particular in the mountain of data had caught his eye, and warranted his special attention. Not please with what he found, he made some hard decisions, and put some plans into motion. Then, he put together a presentation in the war room, and summoned his best people. He hadn't called the Captain, the scientists, the big loud flying types. He waited for his specialists. The people with very specific skill sets he would need. One agent with very particular skills he needed more than any other. The fact that he needed her particular skills was keeping a permanent scowl on his face these past few hours as he had made preparations, none too happy with what had to be done. He waited for you all to arrive, gather around the round holo-table with the displays to share what he would with you all* Everyone here? Sit down, let's get into the shit people. There's plenty of it to deal with this time...*He looked around from one to the next, sizing each agent up, knowing their skills, talents, worth. His gaze came to rest with Natasha, keeping an odd sort of eye contact with her to subtly draw her attention, heighten her awareness without signaling anyone else*
(01/16/22 : 19:41:03)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL: Rosie sprawled in her chair, a booted foot tapping with an anxious energy. She, too, was used to being out in the field - getting things done. But since being tapped to work eith the newbs, she'd been stuck here on this helicarrier for longer than ever before. Sure, it had been fun - ninjas, rogue agents, other things she can't even describe. So the possibility of a real, actual mission off this hunk o' junk had her all sorts of twitterpated. She looked over as Clint and Natasha entered the room, but then turned her attention on Director Fury.
(01/16/22 : 19:47:18)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
“I’m always down to eat. Pizza?”
He probably ate pizza more than he should. The spot right below his place in Bed-Stuy was just phenomenal. Maybe he was born in the Midwest, but he’d become a New Yorker over the years of being stationed there. He was spoiled on the place and its cuisine and if there was one thing the Hawkeye and Black Widow did well, it was indulge in food. Not fine food. Just food. It was a great way to decompress after a mission. He wasn’t against Falafal. Chinese? He wasn’t against a good diner combo, either.
He followed Natasha’s lead, though once they took their seats he positioned himself so he was eying the entrances as a force of habit. When the big boss and the other agents assigned to this briefing assembled, he was a little more relaxed. Mostly he sat steady in his chair, listening to Fury open up the panel and dive into whatever this was about. And it hadn’t been lost on him as exactly who was present and who wasn’t. Yep, this was spy shit. His skin felt tight and his blood began to fizzle at the prospect of an old-school style mission. They seemed so far away….
“Let it be known that Nick Fury is a man about foreplay…”
(01/16/22 : 19:51:36)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: -she sat next to Clint at the table, a slight scowl of her own. Mostly because it was her way. Mean Russian. Never break character. Her long legs crossed as she leaned back in the chair, fingers curling over the arm rests as she glanced at the holo table waiting for everyone else to sit. Fury spoke, but she didn’t really acknowledge him at first. He always tended to start with hot air, after all. She’d let him get that out of his system, whispering something to Clint that was more disruptive than anything else…before she felt that bore for Fury’s gaze. Initially she thought he had somehow heard her whispered words to Clint. Did he have that ability? probably. If not by nature then by some device. She returned his gaze with subtle challenge behind her eyes…until she realized that he held it there with intent. Her expression didn’t change, nor did her posture or the way she sat in that chair with a cool blend of ease and disinterest. With nothing more than her silence, she conveyed to Fury that he had her attention. It wasn’t a signal, it wasn’t anything that anyone in the room would pick up on. Unless Clint was paying super special attention to her, but apparently he was busy making slick comments [see what I did there? Ha!]. her chin inclined slightly as she waited for Fury to explain their impending mission between a litany of unnecessary albeit satisfying expletives-
(01/16/22 : 20:17:29)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: (and the gang)*Nick summons up some fancy and expensive hologram display from the war-table. Various stats, charts, bios of ne'er do wells from around the world. Some specific stats and pictures of weapons and equipment recovered from the recent raid hovered over the table. The kind of thing that would look really cool in the 3-D Imax version of this chapter in the movies.* As I'm sure was already apparent, these mother fuckers had apparently infuriated our ranks pretty deeply. We found evidence in that base not just of defecting SHIELD agents contributing to the Sentinel project, but Hydra, AIM, the Hand. Nearly every two bit outfit full of cousin-fuckers, monkey-spanking incel betas and human equivalents of participation awards you've ever heard of seems to want in on this new project. There are going to be a number of missions in the near future to further root out these bastards as we claw our way to whoever is at the heart of this new movement. However, there is something a bit more high priority I have you folks here for currently* He clicks and the holo-data shifts. More stats, pictures. Intel, pictures of specific people and a specific project* ICE-IX, codename of a particularly nasty project. Involving this gentleman*clicky click, brings up a mean looking ugly fucker* A Boris Turgenov. Born Stalingrad, ' 52 *Again the level look into Natasha's eyes. The name, was fake, Turgenov wasn't a real person. But the location, and the number had special significance only to Natasha. A signal, careful, controlled. Something Nick would not put out into the world unless shit was looking particularly fucked and near hopeless.* An old Soviet weapons project from the heyday of the cold war. Everyone though it was long dead, buried, good as forgotten. These new dipshits seem to be meddling in it again. ICE-IX is some very nasty shit people. Let me give you a primer...* As the others looked at the data, or elsewhere, for the briefest of seconds Natasha would think she may see the briefest of flashes in the Iris of Nick's left eye. Then he pulls a device the size of a gun clip out of his uniform, and stands it up on the table* This drive contains some truly weird shit, an amalgam of what the Soviets were trying to accomplish back in the day...and what my bright boys in the lab right here at SHIELD have managed to update and improve on the old project. This shit right here is exactly the kind of black ops project that gets administrations thrown out of office if it were to ever become public. You here in this room are now on a upper level clearance for ICE-IX...and the breakthrough data on this drive from our top men* He pauses, finger on the device on the table. Looking to each of you...waiting a beat*
(01/16/22 : 20:18:40)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: ooo, this sounded interesting - though Rosie had to admit, there was alot of Russiany sounding names in this briefing. She'd much prefer to go on a mission to somewhere like Majorca or Greece... but sure, Russia could be interesting. Cold, but interesting.
(01/16/22 : 20:25:42)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
Another thing about being a soldier was that Clint knew his place in the chain of command. He fell below Natasha in the pecking order. He had the rank and seniority, but she had the skills. She was a better agent than him in nearly every regard, and she was a damn close second when it came to aim. When it came down to it, most missions relied on her and he was her support. But the way Fury was setting everything up, the way he was looking at Natasha, Clint had a feeling it ran deeper than that. Anytime it was dealing with the Russian, or old Soviet shit…. It usually would involve something from her past. It was just how the game worked.
And yet a former enemy was now a more trusted confidant than half of the agents out there. Clint gave himself kudos for being a good judge of character. Clint kept an eye on Natasha, gauging her reactions to each reveal as they came before focusing on the details himself. He was about to ask if the new clearance came with a pay bump, but the seriousness of the situation had taken root so he quieted.
“Any of this in connection to the mutant prisoners those fake agents were guarding?”
(01/16/22 : 20:33:26)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: -Fury already had ensured her attention, and she listened closely to everything he said. not for details on the operatives. For something else. Stalingrad ’52. Everything inside of her body clenched. Her chest tightened. It was brief. Extremely brief. That human reaction to what was a crucial signal that only she would understand swiftly gave way to the mechanics of what she was. What she would always be…-
-when Fury set that device on the table was the first moment her gaze broke from him. She stared at it a moment, a subtle tilt of her head. There were calculations rapidly occurring in her mind. She wasn’t listening anymore. She didnt need to. She had gleaned all the information she needed. Fury paused. His gaze moved around the room. But the cool-guy spies all remained still waiting for what would come after the dramatic pause. If only they knew…-
-abruptly, Natasha was out of her chair and on top of the table, the heels of her boots clacking over the surface as the holographic images projected around her. she drew a pistol from her hip, clicked the safety, drew the slide and put three in Fury’s chest before anyone had even had the chance to process her getting up from her chair. The shots echoed in the room, and as Fury’s eyes went wide and his fingers fell off the device she hooked it with her toe, kicking it up in the air and catching it with her free hand, tucking it away. Seconds would matter now. The agents would go from shock to action. But Natasha wasn’t too worried. She had time to make it look good. She made a smooth drop from the table to straddle Fury’s lap as he slumped into that chair, choking through punctured lungs and internal bleeding- ”you talk too fucking much, Fury.” -she drew the slide again, this time shoving the barrel of that gun right into his mouth as she leaned in and whispered to him- ”it was fun” -kaboom. She shifted to her feet and looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with Clint for a moment. She wasn’t readable. In a split second she was back on that huge metal table, running across it and jumping between Clint and her formerly occupied chair to bolt out the door. Time to go!-
(01/16/22 : 20:41:29)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: *Fury jerks dramatically, thud thud thud with three to the chest. Knocking him back into the plush captains chair behind the ops table. Blood spurting from his mouth as you fling nimbly over to drop into his lap. A wet gurgling groan noise that seems to try to form into language. About to spit out some venomous response when POP. The back of his head decorates the stark military grey bulkhead wall behind him. The body slumps, clearly devoid of any living essence now. *
(01/16/22 : 20:45:28)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: to her credit, she was a mere beat behind the Black Widow - not fast enough to save Director Fury, but she was out of her chair on her feet in a heartbeat, pulling her gun and firing it - aimed to maim, not kill - at the Black Widow as she attempts to flee. She slides across the table and runs out the door in hot pursuit. She won't get far... this place is crawling with skilled agents, there would be a literal bloodbath for Natasha to get through all of them. Though as she ran, Rosie noticed that the corridors were surprisingly empty.
(01/16/22 : 20:59:01)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
The briefing moments slowed to a crawl and Clint felt like he was in quicksand. He’d shifted his gaze from Natasha, concern in his heard but blank from his face as he pushed to focus on what Fury was showing them. Then the shots rang out, and Clint had blinked. Natasha was across the table. One of her shells had ejected from the pistol and whisked by him. He was on his feet before he knew what happened. His eyes were wide. All 20/20 vision locked in as it played out, frame by frame. She blew his god-damned head off. He was snatching his chair by the arms and swinging it violently to try and crash against her. Even if he hit, he knew it wouldn’t keep her down. He dove across the table and was coming up with a coffee mug full of pens. Taking the half a dozen pens in one hand and the mug in the other, he was sprinting behind Rosie, those he was able to pull past her with a burst of speed he wasn’t sure he had anymore. The mug was thrown with pinpoint accuracy to wing Natasha in the head as she rounded a corner.
(01/16/22 : 21:08:44)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: And Rosie!]] -she felt that pursuit, Rosie was swift. But it was the quick pass of a second set of steps thudding in her mind that get her attention. Clint threw that mug and Natasha barely ducked down a hallway, that porcelain shattering against the corner of the wall. The hallway was empty and she yelled over her shoulder- ”Stand down, Barton!” -she murdered the Director and then actually had the audacity to pull rank. She ripped a fire extinguisher off the wall, heaving it at Rosie hoping to nail her in the chest to slow her down. if that didnt do it, her pressing her hand against the wall would, double checking before pressing a sensor on her wrist. Short countdown. One last chance- ”you know this is futile” -C4 that had been hidden in the wall detonated moments later. By the time Clint and Rosie cleared their vision and got control of the ringing in their ears, Natasha would be gone. Or so it would seem. From somewhere in the hallway there was more gunfire. Four shots popped clear. Glass shattered. ….no screams. She was approaching the lab-
(01/16/22 : 21:16:07)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: the fire extinguisher, ironically, probably saved her from more extensive injury once the wall blew. It landed against her chest, knocking her backward - causing her last shot to go haywire. Then the wall exploded outward, peppering debris and shrapnel down on them. Rosie screamed in frustrated anger, heaving the fire extinguisher off her chest and scrambling to her feet. Trying to blink away the whirly dots that swam through her vision - she didn't need to hear to shoot, but she did need to see. She stumbled forward through the rubble, clutching what remained of the wall...holding her gun aloft, ready to take the shot as soon as she could. Meanwhile, her chest was heaving, she was having trouble breathing... probably fractured ribs, broken sternum?
(01/16/22 : 21:21:40)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: *Bleeeds all over the nice carpet. Dead and so doesn't have to do anything else. Cushy job! But, while the heroes are off chasing you down, alarms began to blare all over the carrier as the damage quotient rose at an alarming rate, a team of med-agents arrived in the war room. Going about their medic business and getting Nick's body onto a hover-gurney (Because everything is fancy at SHIELD) and whisking the body away quickly*
(01/16/22 : 21:27:13)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
Clint had caught sight of her little move. Rosie basically caught that fire extinguisher and he was vaulting forward, catching himself one handed and springing across the hallway, a pen threw like a dart down the hall just before it exploded. Hawkeye landed in a gymnast’s roll. The pen was used to richochet, hitting one or two surfaces before sticking in Natasha’s ass like a knife. Maybe it only pricked. Maybe it would leave a blood trail but it was a little “fuck you” for that pulling rank horse shit. Turning around and waving away the smoke, he would give Rosie a once over as she got herself to her feet. Others were coming down the way, Scott and Janet. His jaw setting, Clint broke back into a sprint. What the fuck was going on? He tried to stay ahead of everyone….
“This is Barton, Agent 42069, Clearance…..ICE-IX. Initiate Lockdown!”
hail mary?
(01/16/22 : 21:36:56)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: interesting how we got that special clearance just before we needed to use it. Rosie leaned against the wall, letting you go after her first . She just needed a minute to catch her breath... she rubbed at a what felt like a stitch in her side for a minute, then grabbed at the wall for support as she forced herself to keep going, stumbling down the corridor*
(01/16/22 : 21:40:12)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: all the people!]] -when that pen sank into the flesh of her ass she grunted, pausing just long enough to rip it out and throw it to the ground. Fucking prick. But it wouldn’t slow her down. Nothing would slow her down. The alarms went off. Clint initiated a lockdown. It made little of no difference to her. Natasha ran into the conveniently empty lab, her gaze swiftly scanning the counters, looking for something specific- ”if I were you where would I be…” -she muttered to herself, pulling open cabinets, tossing things over her shoulder and to the floor. More glass shattered recklessly, chemicals spilling to the ground. She was meant to be working on an exit but she paused picking up a handful of strange little things- ”what does this do?” -because there’s always time for science experiments! She threw one at a chair and watched as it erupted in this purple goo that wrapped around the chair like a weird ever-expanding slime. She looked at the little devices in the palm of her hand, some had similar marks…and she plucked a like one in her grasp just as Clint burst into the lab. She looked up at him, her jaw clenching- ”you know you can’t stop me, Clint.” -she said all too calm. A few steps backwards- ”I don’t want to hurt you. So please, do us both a favor, and stay the fuck out of my way” -she threw one of those odd little things at him, expecting to hit him in the chest and for the expandable slime to bind him all up in a mess, preventing him from being able to do much of anything for at least a moment. The rest of the handful? She threw to the door, letting whatever series of reactions occur that would…good, glitter bombs, gamma rays….who knows! While that chaos erupted behind her and Clint undoubtedly cursed her name and demanded she explain herself she found what she was looking for…grabbing a vial that contained a red liquid and holding it up, showing it to Clint. Would he understand? Maybe later- ”it was fun.” -the same last words she spoke to Fury before she smashed threw the vial into a wall and caused another huge explosion because rivers loves to blow things up. Lab…decimated. hull….broken. and Natasha smoothly fell backwards out of that opening for a quick exit. She’d free fall a dangerous amount of time before a conveniently present device was activated letting her begin a glide to the ground when she was well out of view. Defector mode activated-
(01/16/22 : 21:55:17)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
Bully for Fury, he’d uploaded all of their updated credentials. Unfortunately, that also included Natasha. She didn’t even try to deactivate the lockdown. She seemed none too worried about it as it. That annoyed Clint. That nonchalant superiority complex was nice when it was on their side… now that she was using it against him, it was just pissing him off. It didn’t matter that she was right, that it was futile. This was the job, and now she was on the other side of the line again.
“Remember what I said if you ever crossed that line again, Romanoff?”
He spun a pen in his fingers, and threw all of them at her just as she threw all of those bits at him.
The irony of her using all of his arrow heads against him wouldn’t be lost on him. None of the pens would hit her, not this time. One got close… but barely. No, Clint was wrapped in putty, struggling and cursing, his skin flustered and veins popping as he thrashed with vehement rage.
“You better fucking kill me, Nat….!”
A tiny mechanical spider crawled along Natasha’s collar as she free fell, hiding underneath before flattening and blending into the material. The tracker was practically invisible to the naked eye.
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon:
The way things had been going, they were no longer spies. It didn’t feel like they were spies, anyways. It felt very much like they were playing hero. No one on Fury’s “Avenger” list had a cape, or none that Clint was aware of, but it all felt very strange and bombastic and…. Clint wasn’t sure he liked it. He never considered himself much of a hero. He was a soldier. There was never a target he couldn’t hit. No goal never met. Just as he pointed arrows into their destination, he was to be guided much the same and he liked it that way. He’d leave the “hero” shit to the likes of Cap.
But maybe there was a need for all this spy business. Fury hadn’t completely bought all in on this Super-Team ideal, and SHIELD was still in the spy game. Clint and Natasha were two of the best operatives in the game and they’d been sidelined for the superbowl slots. If Clint wasn’t a fan, he knew Natasha likely wasn’t. Or maybe she had warmed to the idea.
(01/16/22 : 19:09:07)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: ”meetings” -she muttered, followed by something in hushed Russian as she walked along his side- ”explosions and meetings.” -perhaps their thought patterns had been similar in that moment. She made a little bit of a face and then gave a shrug- ”explosions have their place. But meetings…” -she scrunched her nose a little and shook her head. a small hand rose to the back of her neck, rubbing into the constantly tensed muscles at the nape of her auburn hair- ”we should go eat after. I feel like we haven’t eaten in a while.” -probably not true. But it was the American thing she liked best. Going to eat. Not even out of hunger. just….for the hell of it. Bored? Lets go eat. Angry? Lets go eat. Tired of being a hero? Lets go eat. She glanced over at him with a half smile and shrugged before walking through the doors like she owned the room-
(01/16/22 : 19:34:08)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: *The American economist, Thomas Sowell once remarked, "People who enjoy meetings should not be in charge of anything". But Nick had certain motives to call a this meeting, perhaps ulterior motives even! New intel gleamed from the recent raid on the big Sentinel base days ago had lead to a series of strange bits of cryptic information that Nick had been diligently working on. He had the usual eggheads and labs doing intelligence break down of the prisoners and materials captured at the raid, but Nick himself had been doing some very intent research himself. Somewhat unusual, something particular in the mountain of data had caught his eye, and warranted his special attention. Not please with what he found, he made some hard decisions, and put some plans into motion. Then, he put together a presentation in the war room, and summoned his best people. He hadn't called the Captain, the scientists, the big loud flying types. He waited for his specialists. The people with very specific skill sets he would need. One agent with very particular skills he needed more than any other. The fact that he needed her particular skills was keeping a permanent scowl on his face these past few hours as he had made preparations, none too happy with what had to be done. He waited for you all to arrive, gather around the round holo-table with the displays to share what he would with you all* Everyone here? Sit down, let's get into the shit people. There's plenty of it to deal with this time...*He looked around from one to the next, sizing each agent up, knowing their skills, talents, worth. His gaze came to rest with Natasha, keeping an odd sort of eye contact with her to subtly draw her attention, heighten her awareness without signaling anyone else*
(01/16/22 : 19:41:03)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL: Rosie sprawled in her chair, a booted foot tapping with an anxious energy. She, too, was used to being out in the field - getting things done. But since being tapped to work eith the newbs, she'd been stuck here on this helicarrier for longer than ever before. Sure, it had been fun - ninjas, rogue agents, other things she can't even describe. So the possibility of a real, actual mission off this hunk o' junk had her all sorts of twitterpated. She looked over as Clint and Natasha entered the room, but then turned her attention on Director Fury.
(01/16/22 : 19:47:18)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
“I’m always down to eat. Pizza?”
He probably ate pizza more than he should. The spot right below his place in Bed-Stuy was just phenomenal. Maybe he was born in the Midwest, but he’d become a New Yorker over the years of being stationed there. He was spoiled on the place and its cuisine and if there was one thing the Hawkeye and Black Widow did well, it was indulge in food. Not fine food. Just food. It was a great way to decompress after a mission. He wasn’t against Falafal. Chinese? He wasn’t against a good diner combo, either.
He followed Natasha’s lead, though once they took their seats he positioned himself so he was eying the entrances as a force of habit. When the big boss and the other agents assigned to this briefing assembled, he was a little more relaxed. Mostly he sat steady in his chair, listening to Fury open up the panel and dive into whatever this was about. And it hadn’t been lost on him as exactly who was present and who wasn’t. Yep, this was spy shit. His skin felt tight and his blood began to fizzle at the prospect of an old-school style mission. They seemed so far away….
“Let it be known that Nick Fury is a man about foreplay…”
(01/16/22 : 19:51:36)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: -she sat next to Clint at the table, a slight scowl of her own. Mostly because it was her way. Mean Russian. Never break character. Her long legs crossed as she leaned back in the chair, fingers curling over the arm rests as she glanced at the holo table waiting for everyone else to sit. Fury spoke, but she didn’t really acknowledge him at first. He always tended to start with hot air, after all. She’d let him get that out of his system, whispering something to Clint that was more disruptive than anything else…before she felt that bore for Fury’s gaze. Initially she thought he had somehow heard her whispered words to Clint. Did he have that ability? probably. If not by nature then by some device. She returned his gaze with subtle challenge behind her eyes…until she realized that he held it there with intent. Her expression didn’t change, nor did her posture or the way she sat in that chair with a cool blend of ease and disinterest. With nothing more than her silence, she conveyed to Fury that he had her attention. It wasn’t a signal, it wasn’t anything that anyone in the room would pick up on. Unless Clint was paying super special attention to her, but apparently he was busy making slick comments [see what I did there? Ha!]. her chin inclined slightly as she waited for Fury to explain their impending mission between a litany of unnecessary albeit satisfying expletives-
(01/16/22 : 20:17:29)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: (and the gang)*Nick summons up some fancy and expensive hologram display from the war-table. Various stats, charts, bios of ne'er do wells from around the world. Some specific stats and pictures of weapons and equipment recovered from the recent raid hovered over the table. The kind of thing that would look really cool in the 3-D Imax version of this chapter in the movies.* As I'm sure was already apparent, these mother fuckers had apparently infuriated our ranks pretty deeply. We found evidence in that base not just of defecting SHIELD agents contributing to the Sentinel project, but Hydra, AIM, the Hand. Nearly every two bit outfit full of cousin-fuckers, monkey-spanking incel betas and human equivalents of participation awards you've ever heard of seems to want in on this new project. There are going to be a number of missions in the near future to further root out these bastards as we claw our way to whoever is at the heart of this new movement. However, there is something a bit more high priority I have you folks here for currently* He clicks and the holo-data shifts. More stats, pictures. Intel, pictures of specific people and a specific project* ICE-IX, codename of a particularly nasty project. Involving this gentleman*clicky click, brings up a mean looking ugly fucker* A Boris Turgenov. Born Stalingrad, ' 52 *Again the level look into Natasha's eyes. The name, was fake, Turgenov wasn't a real person. But the location, and the number had special significance only to Natasha. A signal, careful, controlled. Something Nick would not put out into the world unless shit was looking particularly fucked and near hopeless.* An old Soviet weapons project from the heyday of the cold war. Everyone though it was long dead, buried, good as forgotten. These new dipshits seem to be meddling in it again. ICE-IX is some very nasty shit people. Let me give you a primer...* As the others looked at the data, or elsewhere, for the briefest of seconds Natasha would think she may see the briefest of flashes in the Iris of Nick's left eye. Then he pulls a device the size of a gun clip out of his uniform, and stands it up on the table* This drive contains some truly weird shit, an amalgam of what the Soviets were trying to accomplish back in the day...and what my bright boys in the lab right here at SHIELD have managed to update and improve on the old project. This shit right here is exactly the kind of black ops project that gets administrations thrown out of office if it were to ever become public. You here in this room are now on a upper level clearance for ICE-IX...and the breakthrough data on this drive from our top men* He pauses, finger on the device on the table. Looking to each of you...waiting a beat*
(01/16/22 : 20:18:40)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: ooo, this sounded interesting - though Rosie had to admit, there was alot of Russiany sounding names in this briefing. She'd much prefer to go on a mission to somewhere like Majorca or Greece... but sure, Russia could be interesting. Cold, but interesting.
(01/16/22 : 20:25:42)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
Another thing about being a soldier was that Clint knew his place in the chain of command. He fell below Natasha in the pecking order. He had the rank and seniority, but she had the skills. She was a better agent than him in nearly every regard, and she was a damn close second when it came to aim. When it came down to it, most missions relied on her and he was her support. But the way Fury was setting everything up, the way he was looking at Natasha, Clint had a feeling it ran deeper than that. Anytime it was dealing with the Russian, or old Soviet shit…. It usually would involve something from her past. It was just how the game worked.
And yet a former enemy was now a more trusted confidant than half of the agents out there. Clint gave himself kudos for being a good judge of character. Clint kept an eye on Natasha, gauging her reactions to each reveal as they came before focusing on the details himself. He was about to ask if the new clearance came with a pay bump, but the seriousness of the situation had taken root so he quieted.
“Any of this in connection to the mutant prisoners those fake agents were guarding?”
(01/16/22 : 20:33:26)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: -Fury already had ensured her attention, and she listened closely to everything he said. not for details on the operatives. For something else. Stalingrad ’52. Everything inside of her body clenched. Her chest tightened. It was brief. Extremely brief. That human reaction to what was a crucial signal that only she would understand swiftly gave way to the mechanics of what she was. What she would always be…-
-when Fury set that device on the table was the first moment her gaze broke from him. She stared at it a moment, a subtle tilt of her head. There were calculations rapidly occurring in her mind. She wasn’t listening anymore. She didnt need to. She had gleaned all the information she needed. Fury paused. His gaze moved around the room. But the cool-guy spies all remained still waiting for what would come after the dramatic pause. If only they knew…-
-abruptly, Natasha was out of her chair and on top of the table, the heels of her boots clacking over the surface as the holographic images projected around her. she drew a pistol from her hip, clicked the safety, drew the slide and put three in Fury’s chest before anyone had even had the chance to process her getting up from her chair. The shots echoed in the room, and as Fury’s eyes went wide and his fingers fell off the device she hooked it with her toe, kicking it up in the air and catching it with her free hand, tucking it away. Seconds would matter now. The agents would go from shock to action. But Natasha wasn’t too worried. She had time to make it look good. She made a smooth drop from the table to straddle Fury’s lap as he slumped into that chair, choking through punctured lungs and internal bleeding- ”you talk too fucking much, Fury.” -she drew the slide again, this time shoving the barrel of that gun right into his mouth as she leaned in and whispered to him- ”it was fun” -kaboom. She shifted to her feet and looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with Clint for a moment. She wasn’t readable. In a split second she was back on that huge metal table, running across it and jumping between Clint and her formerly occupied chair to bolt out the door. Time to go!-
(01/16/22 : 20:41:29)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: *Fury jerks dramatically, thud thud thud with three to the chest. Knocking him back into the plush captains chair behind the ops table. Blood spurting from his mouth as you fling nimbly over to drop into his lap. A wet gurgling groan noise that seems to try to form into language. About to spit out some venomous response when POP. The back of his head decorates the stark military grey bulkhead wall behind him. The body slumps, clearly devoid of any living essence now. *
(01/16/22 : 20:45:28)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to In the Land of the Blind: to her credit, she was a mere beat behind the Black Widow - not fast enough to save Director Fury, but she was out of her chair on her feet in a heartbeat, pulling her gun and firing it - aimed to maim, not kill - at the Black Widow as she attempts to flee. She slides across the table and runs out the door in hot pursuit. She won't get far... this place is crawling with skilled agents, there would be a literal bloodbath for Natasha to get through all of them. Though as she ran, Rosie noticed that the corridors were surprisingly empty.
(01/16/22 : 20:59:01)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
The briefing moments slowed to a crawl and Clint felt like he was in quicksand. He’d shifted his gaze from Natasha, concern in his heard but blank from his face as he pushed to focus on what Fury was showing them. Then the shots rang out, and Clint had blinked. Natasha was across the table. One of her shells had ejected from the pistol and whisked by him. He was on his feet before he knew what happened. His eyes were wide. All 20/20 vision locked in as it played out, frame by frame. She blew his god-damned head off. He was snatching his chair by the arms and swinging it violently to try and crash against her. Even if he hit, he knew it wouldn’t keep her down. He dove across the table and was coming up with a coffee mug full of pens. Taking the half a dozen pens in one hand and the mug in the other, he was sprinting behind Rosie, those he was able to pull past her with a burst of speed he wasn’t sure he had anymore. The mug was thrown with pinpoint accuracy to wing Natasha in the head as she rounded a corner.
(01/16/22 : 21:08:44)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: And Rosie!]] -she felt that pursuit, Rosie was swift. But it was the quick pass of a second set of steps thudding in her mind that get her attention. Clint threw that mug and Natasha barely ducked down a hallway, that porcelain shattering against the corner of the wall. The hallway was empty and she yelled over her shoulder- ”Stand down, Barton!” -she murdered the Director and then actually had the audacity to pull rank. She ripped a fire extinguisher off the wall, heaving it at Rosie hoping to nail her in the chest to slow her down. if that didnt do it, her pressing her hand against the wall would, double checking before pressing a sensor on her wrist. Short countdown. One last chance- ”you know this is futile” -C4 that had been hidden in the wall detonated moments later. By the time Clint and Rosie cleared their vision and got control of the ringing in their ears, Natasha would be gone. Or so it would seem. From somewhere in the hallway there was more gunfire. Four shots popped clear. Glass shattered. ….no screams. She was approaching the lab-
(01/16/22 : 21:16:07)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: the fire extinguisher, ironically, probably saved her from more extensive injury once the wall blew. It landed against her chest, knocking her backward - causing her last shot to go haywire. Then the wall exploded outward, peppering debris and shrapnel down on them. Rosie screamed in frustrated anger, heaving the fire extinguisher off her chest and scrambling to her feet. Trying to blink away the whirly dots that swam through her vision - she didn't need to hear to shoot, but she did need to see. She stumbled forward through the rubble, clutching what remained of the wall...holding her gun aloft, ready to take the shot as soon as she could. Meanwhile, her chest was heaving, she was having trouble breathing... probably fractured ribs, broken sternum?
(01/16/22 : 21:21:40)
In the Land of the Blind
||Nick Fury||
/[Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]\
Marvel Utopia Council
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to [ l e t h a l ] . weapon: *Bleeeds all over the nice carpet. Dead and so doesn't have to do anything else. Cushy job! But, while the heroes are off chasing you down, alarms began to blare all over the carrier as the damage quotient rose at an alarming rate, a team of med-agents arrived in the war room. Going about their medic business and getting Nick's body onto a hover-gurney (Because everything is fancy at SHIELD) and whisking the body away quickly*
(01/16/22 : 21:27:13)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
Clint had caught sight of her little move. Rosie basically caught that fire extinguisher and he was vaulting forward, catching himself one handed and springing across the hallway, a pen threw like a dart down the hall just before it exploded. Hawkeye landed in a gymnast’s roll. The pen was used to richochet, hitting one or two surfaces before sticking in Natasha’s ass like a knife. Maybe it only pricked. Maybe it would leave a blood trail but it was a little “fuck you” for that pulling rank horse shit. Turning around and waving away the smoke, he would give Rosie a once over as she got herself to her feet. Others were coming down the way, Scott and Janet. His jaw setting, Clint broke back into a sprint. What the fuck was going on? He tried to stay ahead of everyone….
“This is Barton, Agent 42069, Clearance…..ICE-IX. Initiate Lockdown!”
hail mary?
(01/16/22 : 21:36:56)
-|| Guns . N . Rosie ||-
-Rosalyn Diaz-
|Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.|
Marvel Utopia : ReVo
Should we shoot them?
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: interesting how we got that special clearance just before we needed to use it. Rosie leaned against the wall, letting you go after her first . She just needed a minute to catch her breath... she rubbed at a what felt like a stitch in her side for a minute, then grabbed at the wall for support as she forced herself to keep going, stumbling down the corridor*
(01/16/22 : 21:40:12)
[ l e t h a l ] . weapon .
N a t a s h a R o m a n o f f
-. B l a c k . W i d o w .-
theres nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
Marvel . Utopia . ReVo
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to .|.Avenging.Archer.|.Cli: all the people!]] -when that pen sank into the flesh of her ass she grunted, pausing just long enough to rip it out and throw it to the ground. Fucking prick. But it wouldn’t slow her down. Nothing would slow her down. The alarms went off. Clint initiated a lockdown. It made little of no difference to her. Natasha ran into the conveniently empty lab, her gaze swiftly scanning the counters, looking for something specific- ”if I were you where would I be…” -she muttered to herself, pulling open cabinets, tossing things over her shoulder and to the floor. More glass shattered recklessly, chemicals spilling to the ground. She was meant to be working on an exit but she paused picking up a handful of strange little things- ”what does this do?” -because there’s always time for science experiments! She threw one at a chair and watched as it erupted in this purple goo that wrapped around the chair like a weird ever-expanding slime. She looked at the little devices in the palm of her hand, some had similar marks…and she plucked a like one in her grasp just as Clint burst into the lab. She looked up at him, her jaw clenching- ”you know you can’t stop me, Clint.” -she said all too calm. A few steps backwards- ”I don’t want to hurt you. So please, do us both a favor, and stay the fuck out of my way” -she threw one of those odd little things at him, expecting to hit him in the chest and for the expandable slime to bind him all up in a mess, preventing him from being able to do much of anything for at least a moment. The rest of the handful? She threw to the door, letting whatever series of reactions occur that would…good, glitter bombs, gamma rays….who knows! While that chaos erupted behind her and Clint undoubtedly cursed her name and demanded she explain herself she found what she was looking for…grabbing a vial that contained a red liquid and holding it up, showing it to Clint. Would he understand? Maybe later- ”it was fun.” -the same last words she spoke to Fury before she smashed threw the vial into a wall and caused another huge explosion because rivers loves to blow things up. Lab…decimated. hull….broken. and Natasha smoothly fell backwards out of that opening for a quick exit. She’d free fall a dangerous amount of time before a conveniently present device was activated letting her begin a glide to the ground when she was well out of view. Defector mode activated-
(01/16/22 : 21:55:17)
.|.Avenging.Archer.|.
Clinton Clint Barton
.|.OG.Hawkeye.|.
::SHEILD Agent::
::Archer|Marksman|Spy|Cool Guy::
The City is falling, we’re fighting an army of robots, and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense.
.|.Marvel.Utopia.|.
-[on the Helicarrier]-
says to ALL:
Bully for Fury, he’d uploaded all of their updated credentials. Unfortunately, that also included Natasha. She didn’t even try to deactivate the lockdown. She seemed none too worried about it as it. That annoyed Clint. That nonchalant superiority complex was nice when it was on their side… now that she was using it against him, it was just pissing him off. It didn’t matter that she was right, that it was futile. This was the job, and now she was on the other side of the line again.
“Remember what I said if you ever crossed that line again, Romanoff?”
He spun a pen in his fingers, and threw all of them at her just as she threw all of those bits at him.
The irony of her using all of his arrow heads against him wouldn’t be lost on him. None of the pens would hit her, not this time. One got close… but barely. No, Clint was wrapped in putty, struggling and cursing, his skin flustered and veins popping as he thrashed with vehement rage.
“You better fucking kill me, Nat….!”
A tiny mechanical spider crawled along Natasha’s collar as she free fell, hiding underneath before flattening and blending into the material. The tracker was practically invisible to the naked eye.