ryslig inbox

[coffeepots]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, CLINT BARTON. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 008.01.023.11 *** HAWKEYE has joined 008.01.023.11 <hawkeye> this is clint barton, please leave a message. <hawkeye> if you need something fixed in your apartment please just knock on my door or something, it's faster.

"Anonymous" username: < ronin >

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[coffeepots]

[Oh, okay, this may as well be happening. Clint blinks, watching the water drip from Slade's wings and onto the floor.

Maybe he should've waited until the sun went down completely, but it's not a big problem. If they still plan on fighting, he just needs to bide his time. Make some small-talk.]

Yeah, well, I never did too well in school. [He says, slinging the strap of his quiver higher on his shoulder. He never even finished high school.] Besides, what kind of trap comes with the promise of a sweater?

[More importantly, this isn't about the sweater. It's about figuring out why this man he's (apparently) never met before in his life has invited him to fight over something that's definitely worth more than the sweater. To evaluate him as a foe? He's had his fair share of enemies, sure, but none of them ever invited them over so blatantly. And as far as he's aware, he hasn't pissed off anyone recently--besides interrupting Slade's shower, that is.]

If you didn't want me to come, you should've just said so.

[He follows after Slade, trying to look anywhere except the nephilim. Easy enough to do so, given that the interior of the Defiance HQ is entirely alien to him.]

Slade, right? What is this place for, anyways?

[ikonsuit]

[ What kind of trap comes with the promise of a sweater? The kind that Clint fell for, clearly. Slade doesn't say this, however. Doesn't have to. If Slade was planning to trap him, tie him up, and toss him in a slowly-filling water chamber with no chance of escape, Clint sure gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.

But Clint isn't a Robin, and Slade saves his water traps nearly exclusively for them. ]

Served as a headquarters.

[ If Slade is going to welcome him in and beat his ass, might as well give him the tour first. Still in this state of undress, he starts up the stairs, which glow under their footfalls. ]

Defiance. Based out of New York. A team of superheroes, headed by yours truly. [ Before they get too far, there's a brief pitstop into what looks like a dressing room of some kind. Black and white costumes in various sizes hang from what look to be rotating displays. It gives Slade time to change into something less naked, and Clint is welcome to explore the space or hang out in the hallway. It makes no difference to Slade; he talks while he changes. ]

Power Girl, Ravager, Kid Flash... Jericho.

[ He hasn't gotten around to crafting a costume that fits his new monster form, so he settles for spare sweats and a t-shirt with holes where the wings should be. He's got plenty of those. Good for training. ]

[coffeepots]

[If Clint was transformed, his ears would've perked up at the word "superheroes". Slade is probably observant enough to notice that Clint's demeanor seems to shift slightly after he mentions it. Slade's throwing out a bunch of names, but Clint doesn't recognize any of them. He certainly hopes he'd have noticed if there was another team of superheroes besides the Avengers mucking around in New York City.

Different universe, then. He scrutinizes the costumes on display. In the back of his mind, he can't help but think that the black-and-white scheme is garish and non-practical--but, then again, he doesn't really have room to criticize. He wore a bright purple and blue costume for most of his career before he realized it'd probably be more practical to dress a little more low-key.

He doesn't react when Slade mentions Jericho. It's not something that Joey has mentioned, though the two have definitely implied some sort of excitement in their respective lives.]

No wonder everything's so shiny and hi-tech.

[Could this be a test, then? Better not make too many assumptions. Clint doesn't know how much Slade actually knows on him, and he doesn't want to give up any additional information. His current strategy is just to act dumb and pretend he doesn't know shit--at least, until he finds out exactly what's going on.

Maybe not the best strategy, but, hey, it's made people underestimate him before.]

Superheroes in New York? Huh. What'll they think of next?

[When Slade is finished changing, Clint glances back towards the nephilim. He waits for him to exit the changing room, then follows closely.]

Seems kind of lonely, being in this big headquarters all by yourself. Got anyone else living here?