imfollowinghim | nine ✪ video/spam

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nine ✪ video/spam

[Bucky clicks on the video feed and leans back from the communicator, which is propped on a table in a common room so you're getting a decent view of Bucky - again in his fatigue green jacket and trousers, the hem of which are tucked into the top of his boots - crouched next to the television and the DVD player, remote control in hand. He looks a little amused by his apparent predicament, and is at least approaching it with good humor.]

I'm sure this isn't gonna come as a surprise to anyone, considering most of you've got a good sixty years on me, but I've got no idea how to work this thing and a couple decades of movies to catch up on. [So if someone could talk him through this, that would be awesome.]

On top of that, I've got an inmate who's never seen anything, let alone stuff I've missed out on, so if anyone's got any suggestions for stuff to show him, I'd be happy to hear 'em.

[Open Spam for the Shooting Range]

[With an inmate who requires almost constant supervision and very little sleep, Bucky doesn't have a ton of free time on his hands, usually. Calling in Steve, Peggy and Natasha to help out took some of the pressure off, but he still felt sort of stupid handing Ben over to them for any significant period of time, considering he was his responsibility, and there was a part of him he was reluctant to acknowledge that worried about what would happen if Ben snapped again and attacked them. He knew they could handle themselves fine, but they were still people he didn't want hurt if he could help it, and so for the most part, he didn't wander too far.

But Ben was working on the dinner shift with Natasha and Rhade right now, and so Bucky was taking the opportunity to head up to the shooting range to get in a little target practice. It's half stress relief, half actually practicing, because being able to hit pretty much any target thrown at him wasn't really a skill you wanted to get rusty with in a place like the Barge.

He let himself in, scoped the place out for a second or two to see who else was there, and immediately headed to pick out a target.]

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[Clint is wearing SHIELD fatigues.

This is different from normal fatigues in that they lack green and are emblazoned-everywhere-with Fury's eagle. Honestly however, Clint liked the eagle-it was part of the reason he wore it and when required that suit because...symbols.

He liked being a symbol. He liked inspiring. Killing millions of people was not inspiring.

That was what drove him. So he's been standing there with his target continuously pulling arrows out of his quiver and making them form letters. He's worked up to J.

He continues this practice, retrieving all the arrows and moving on to the next alphabet letter. It's...fluid. To say the least.]

[Bucky's never seen SHIELD fatigues before. Natasha didn't wear them, and it's not like Steve or Tony had any reason to wear them around, so they're being met with a curious glance, especially considering someone had recently asked why he was wearing a uniform when pretty much no one else did.

He recognized him from his last network post, but he didn't have any reason to know he was a coworker of the others, and using the bow was definitely... weird, but he couldn't help but be impressed by the formations he was going through. You didn't have to be a genius to know that that took skill.]

Impressive.

[Clint breaks off at M. Pulling out the last arrow he raises an eyebrow and smiles.

It's a little nervous honestly.] ...It's just-something to keep my mind off of things.

Am I in the way?

No. [There's plenty of other targets to shoot at, and honestly, he'd been thinking about running a simulation. He couldn't help but think it would've been a hell of a lot easier going into combat with something like that to train with.]

What's with the bow?

[It was an honestly curious question because, well. Definitely an unusual choice of weapon there, pal.]

[Clint studied the bow in his hands for a moment.] This? It's quieter then guns, makes more of an impression and with the right arrows you can do some real damage.

[He has about three arrows left in the quiver, he pulls one out to look at it before tapping it against his hand] I was raised in the circus. My dad did trick shooting for a traveling carnival when I was a kid. Took me along.

[Bucky nodded a little, because, well, that was one hell of an explanation.] And what the hell are you doin' with it now?

[Again, it's curious, and said with some good humor, and he gestures briefly at the uniform to make it clear that he's asking what's up with that, too.]

[Clint catches the gesture with a frown. He picks up the bow again, slides it to the side and leans on it briefly.]

I dunno, post the circus I was looking for things to do. [His gaze goes distant and he shrugs] ...I had family in the military so I joined the marines but I'm not particularly the following orders type.

[he smirks] I can't remember exactly where I picked up the bow again in combat, but it attracted the attention of the right people which got me to where I am today.

[Both giving information and not information, both a spy and a soldier. He shrugs, pulling the last arrow out of his quiver.] Nobody gives arrows a lot of credit honestly. Here, watch.

[He doesn't wait for permission, twisting to fire at a metal overhang. The arrow hits it, bounces off a second metal hanging before zooming back to the target and hitting one of the spaces marked for a lung.

Marvel Physics.]

[Bucky only tenses a little when Clint turns to fire. It's instinct, just like how he'd been immediately thinking how quickly he'd be able to get out of the hold Natasha had had him in when she pinned him in the gym, how fast he'd be able to get at his gun or a knife before she broke his neck.

And he relaxes quickly enough when he realizes what he's doing and laughs softly, impressed.]

Not bad. Who do you work for now?

[Clint hesitates] ...Apparently I'm part of a super secret superspy team that was scrapped a year or so prior to my arrival.

[Is there a note of bitterness there? Yes.]

Prior to that, the government.

[And there's that tone he learned from Natasha. That, trying to be a spy tone. But it's a little off. It's hard to be a spy.]

So you know Steve.

[Unless there's another super secret superspy/superhero team running around here that he hasn't heard about.]

...Captain Rogers?

[He stops, studying the man. He doesn't sit, he just casually leans.]

Sure. Destroyed SHIELD and didn't tell me my best friend was an inmate. Of course I know him. I..

Captain America. I read his comics as a kid.

[Bucky just stares at him, raising an eyebrow.]

He destroyed SHIELD? That's a little different from what I heard.

Well he said he knocked down a few walls.

I may be paraphrasing. Sorry he..

[clint's hands tighten on the bow]

...not entirely comfortable with the guy right now.

That's a shame. He's a good guy. [And there's a part of him that still wants to tackle anyone who says anything bad about Steve, because when you grow up watching someone's back like that, it's kind of a hard instinct to shake, even if Steve was more than capable of defending himself.

He offers a hand.]

Sgt. James Barnes. Most people call me Bucky.

[And from the way that he's kind of starting to smirk, you can bet he knows you probably didn't realize who you were talking to and would recognize the name at the introduction. He might not be Steve, but he knew the Commandos were in the propaganda videos and comic books, and that he was in both of them.]

....Bucky?

...Bucky Barnes? [...Well. Shit.

Clint offers a hand and despite himself he's got a smile on his face. The bow stays locked in his opposing hand.]

...Sgt. Barnes. No wait-I can't remember. The commandos were what made my brother want to join the marines.

[He let it slip. Brother. He shoves Barney back down quickly.] Look don't get me wrong I'm impressed with Captain Rogers, it's just really complicated.

[Honestly Bucky is a little more exciting right now] Are you the only commando on board?

Last time I checked. [And he and Peggy were the only people from their point in the timeline, last time he checked, too.]

And Bucky's fine. You got a name?

[william brandt.

no. Hawkeye.

No. Barton.]

Clint. Agent Barton. Of SHIELD.

Nice to meet you. [And, well, call him nosy, but as messed up as your team was, it was... sort of not really kind of his team now too, in that Steve was involved and he seemed to be at least tangentially involved with all your lives.]

What happened with Steve?

[Clint's smile fades slowly. He picks up the bow again and focuses on the target.]

...Does it really matter? Ultimately I was in the wrong. S'what I've spent the past day or so convincing myself.

[He jokes over, grabs the arrows and returns, shucking them in his quiver. when he returns, he studies Bucky.]

Someone lied.

In the long run it wasn't his fault, but at the very least someone could have given me a heads up about somebody here who...I would like nothing better then to see dead. I would have liked that to be Captain America-but circa when I arrived he was frozen solid in Coulson's care.

[But you could have sought that information. who's fault is that?

Ignoring the thought, he draws an arrow, looking at Bucky before focusing on the target and letting it fly.]

Kind of stupid. I'm known for keeping my eye on the target. I just...miss the things in front of me.

[Bucky's starting to decide he prefers soldiers to spies. You could usually get a straight answer out of someone who was a soldier, but between Natasha and Clint, all these vague beating around the bush explanations was getting kinda old.

Still, he comments on it mildly.]

That's awful cryptic.

I know about Loki and everything that happened, and I know Natasha's an inmate, so you don't need to act like this is all classified. Word gets around pretty fast here.

[Thunk.

The arrow is embedded below the target. Yes he missed.]

You do know huh?

[He frowns] ...Before I joined SHIELD? I was a soldier. I know the value of a guy on the line and I made friends. Pals.

The idea that one guy could sneak up on me like that..

[He notches another arrow to his bowstring,,,and lets it slide as he drops his arms to his sides, bow still in hand.]

Just frustrating.

I get it, pal. It happens to the best of us.

[Sometimes you ran into a situation expecting one thing, and then suddenly guys with guns that literally disintegrated people were coming toward you, killing Nazis and Americans indiscriminately, and there wasn't anything you could do but try to roll with it and keep yourself alive.]

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