Return of Property

May 05, 2014: Domino decides to corner Hawkeye in his own home. Things don't go exactly according to plan. (Language/violence warning)

Clint Barton's Apartment

It's where Hawkeye lives. It's not much to look at. Maybe SHIELD should give him a raise.



  • NYPD
  • Nosy Neighbors

Mood Music:

Barely any time has passed since Central Park, hell most of Manhattan, had been transformed into a foggy alternate reality steampunk-ish ..thing. What had resulted from that mess also resulted in a good deal of personal injury to several people, Domino being one of them. Luck kept her alive but unscathed she most certainly is not.

And now she's back on another job. Personal revenge. Always a pleasure. She took her chances on timing and took a trip on out to Clint Barton's place, then let herself in. It's here that she waits for the Archer to return, lurking within the quiet and the dark.

There's unfinished business between these two. She doesn't like unfinished business.


As luck would have it, dinner is being brought in! Nothing fancy; a few BBQ ribs from the local greasy spoon a couple of blocks over and a six of beer.

The darkened apartment really isn't much to look at. What it does resemble is the lifestyle of a man descending back into busy bachelorhood. 'Busy' meaning 'work-related' as opposed to be a man on the hunt, as it were. Comfortable couches no longer have their contrasting pillows, and if a chair does retain possession of said comfort, it's squished, looking all the world as if someone used it to lay a head to recline while watching television. Said television is hanging on the wall, a few years ago model that doesn't have anything near the clarity of 'todays' screens. Coffee table is haphazardly pulled near the couch, and upon it, coffee mugs, a dirty bowl with the remnants of popcorn.

The door opens to Clint's hand, and in a maneuver that screams that he's done it over and over.. and over, he nudges the door closed with a foot, hits the light with a free hand, and makes his way towards the couch with the styrofoam container of smokey, honeyed pork goodness.


Oh, look. Here's the man of the hour. With his hands completely full. Whatever is Domino to do?


"Hi," comes the entirely calm voice from behind Clint as he approaches the couch. Three guesses who's greeting him. Two guesses where her gun is now aimed. "I figure SHIELD already knows I'm here so let's be quick about this. You have something which belongs to me. You are going to get it, then we are going to leave."

Yep. With completely abandoning dinner. It's not her problem! Her problem is keeping the Archer suppressed and compliant, which is more challenging than it might seem. Sure he has no powers, but he's also part of SHIELD. She can only be so rough on the guy before it comes down to pulling the trigger and burying the remains, and nobody likes that amount of hassle.


Who would you ever guess to run into the _same restaurant_! What are the chances that two people would meet for honeyed pork goodness? If you really have to ask that question, you've obviously never been to Famous Bill's. Evelyn is not far behind Archer, she had to check at the bottom of the stairs to tie her shoelaces. Flats are kind of annoying like that sometimes. Her clothing is just civvies this time, no armor to get in Domino's way. Her shirt is red, a vest of dark brown and black colours, printed with a floral design. Over that, she wears a brown cloth sweater and a pair of jeans. She's actually kind of cute when not covered in burns, soot, and bullet holes. Furthermore, whatever injuries she had back in the steampunk world have vanished. Repaired. Healed.
When she finally rounds the corner to enter Clint's apartment and opens the door, she says out loud, "Yo, archer dude. Where are you?" Stepping in backwards, she shuts the door and turns her head, seeing Domino first. She gasps, giving a squeak of a scream as she drops the cardboard container of food. It doesn't splatter everywhere. The pork is safe.


Clint knows that sound. Could probably even identify the calibre if he had half the mind to. The brief but oh so insistant 'monologue' plays through, and the archer doesn't break stride to the coffee table. There's a little bit of a tenseness around his shoulders, but who would have some sort of strain like that, given the fact he's got a loaded weapon pointed at him, wielded by someone who has absolutely no qualm of pulling that trigger.

"They don't know yet, no. But, if you'd like, I can give them a call?" With the beer set down on the coffee table, Clint puts the BBQ slowly down beside it. "I would think you'd want this to be a quiet conversation, though.. just you and I…" and he lets that thought drop in the air, knowing full well..

Evelyn's entrance gains one of -those- sighs, and he puts a hand out in what should be something of a calming gesture. "How 'bout a beer and we talk?"


That initial 'Yo' is all it takes for the fine hairs on the back of Domino's neck to stand on end, the X-Gene boosted electric spike through the shoulders and spine causing her to twist about - suddenly with a second gun filling her second hand - until she's standing between the two with a 9mm sidearm aimed at -both- of their heads.

Odds of Clint having company this evening: 1 in 4,207.

Here a shaped black eyebrow (the one surrounded by white, it's so much easier to see) hooks upward, her attention rapidly shifting from Evelyn back to Clint. She's seen better days, the cuts and scrapes from the other night clearly visible across her face. Much slower to heal.

"Seriously? Go to hell. You took something from me. You've been an absolute pain in my ass since first encounter. Now I don't rightly care if we do this quiet or loud, I'm not leaving here without what belongs to me. -You,-" she jumps back to Evelyn with a cold stare, sharply motioning with the gun leveled her way. "Get in here, close the door, keep your tone within comfortable decible ranges or I'm gonna cut the song out of your throat. Welcome to the fun, kiddo."

(Frack. Wasn't counting on putting up with two at once tonight.)


Evelyn slowly raises her hands, eyes wide and face flushing red. Very slowly she begins to close the door behind her, until it clicks shut. Her eyes never quite leave Domino. It's an annoying situation, she can't do anything without endangering Hawkeye. Her own health isn't particularly something that's difficult to bargain. Organic life is so much more fragile. Perhaps more unfortunately, Evelyn doesn't have her gun on her. "Bite me," she says in a shaking voice.


"I've been an absolute pain in -your- ass? How about you've been screwing up my ops since I met you." Clint's got his food on the table, and for all intents and purposes, is looking reasonably calm in the face of a pistol to the, well, face. Even with this particular subject matter- something that's set him off a number of times in the recent past. "Yeah, yeah.. not your fault on the first, so you said. But the second?" (He is so totally blaming her.)

Turning slowly, blue eyes look to blue eyes, then off just beyond to Evelyn. There, his gaze lingers for a long moment before he brings his attention back to the matter at hand. "As for you leaving with what belongs to you, there's nothing in here that you can remotely call yours.. including that beer on the table. The box is hovering several thousand feet in the air." So… either the merc can shoot him, or … shoot him.

"As for threatening her, she's got nothing to do with this."


'Bite me?' "Maybe later," Domino replies without giving the instruction much thought. Rather, she's more concerned with Evelyn not..doing..what she is told to do… Time is money. Time is patience. Both are wholly finite resources. And she doesn't like being -out of control.- Evelyn is an unknown, a potentially durable unknown after their last encounter in that armored truck. Add in what Clint has to say about her having nothing to do with this?

"You're right, she doesn't."

The suppressor cuts down the report of the first shot to a muted *Thip!* that's nearly drowned out by the mechanical clacking of the action cycling, the carbon-burnt chunk of brass but a momentary glint of a golden-hued blur as it bounces and clicks upon the floor off to the side. Chest-aimed shot. Lethal. ..Normally.

"And I owed her one," she concludes before snapping the second pistol around to train upon Clint. Miss CIA shouldn't be a problem anymore, which means Dom should be free to go back to her original timetable. "Then you'd best learn to fly -real- damn fast before I lose what's left of my patience."


Evelyn stands there, looking awfully disconcerted. She's listening to the conversation, hands still raised. Looking at her, you might see the flash of emotion across her eyes as Domino pulls the trigger. The round hits her solid, causing a yelp of pain as Evelyn trips back against the wall and falls back. She gasps, eyes wide and looking at her chest, where a black viscuous fluid seeps from the impact site. Bleeding. She hasn't done that for a long time.


Clint's eyes widen as he watches the twitch of the finger, and in the next second, he's making the leap to push the gun out of the way at the same time, striking at her leg for a sweep, following it up with a push of his arm such that she'd potentially get pushed into the back of the couch and at least is momentarily unbalanced. A couple of seconds is all he's looking for.

"Ev!!" Even if he's not on a first name basis with the woman, there are just some things that simply.. come out. That's one of them.. and Clint struggles to make his way towards the striken woman, his hand dipping down to that hold out pistol to unholster it as he does so.


He may be human, but he is a SHIELD agent and has seen his share of fights. Quite possibly even more than Domino has, the guy's got a few years on her, and a lot more official training. He's fortunate in that he doesn't get gunned down himself when he comes rushing toward her but his one shoulder is momentarily passing through the sights as the impact touches a second shot off toward the ceiling.

Then she's getting slammed into the back of the couch, resulting in some rapid redecoration of Clint's living room. Her control over this situation has officially gone from questionable to faltering. Cue the cursing. Clint can hover over the downed CIA agent for all she cares, Dom wants to be on her feet and with her weapons trained right where they need to be. If Barton goes for a weapon of his own then the stakes are going to change completely.


Probably no one expects the CIA agent to get back up, gasping as she is. Even as Hawkeye rushes to her side, she grasping at the wall pushing herself back up, visibly trembling. Her expression is a fault somewhere between surprise and unrelenting anger. One hand is braced over her wound, the other the wall as she gets up to her feet first. "You.. BITCH." She curses at a near growling shout. Her teeth are clenched, eyes tearing up from the pain. Hers is like a gunshot wound, only it _burns_ like all hell.
Pushing herself off the wall, possibly knocking Hawkeye out of the way, she sprints across the room for blood, nearly pouncing for Domino. She's going straight for the throat with her hands to put the other woman in a chokehold. "YOU HIT MY BATTERY!" She cries, in furious pain.


The bullet that fires with uncontrolled aim digs into the flesh of his arm, very much near where that lead ball had entered the night before. A curse comes from his throat before he can stop it, and the pistol is brought up to bear with a "Okay, knock it off before you trash my place!". Of course, the chances are good that it's too little, too late. It does come out with a touch more vehemence, now that his arm is dripping blood.

The speed with which Evelyn picks herself up off the floor, only to launch herself at the little albino merc takes Clint by surprise- even moreso than being shot (because who really expects to be shot? Really?). It's with an exaggerated motion of his head that he watchs her barrel past him, and he spins around to see if he can't keep the two from killing each other.. because, damn. The paperwork. Even for him.


Bitch..? Clint didn't say that, and this 'Ev' lady shouldn't have anywhere near that level of energy to start cussing back with. There's a passing instant of time where Domino is fairly puzzled by this turn of events, until it's made perfectly clear what the trouble is.

"-Battery?-" Dom asks in disbelief, pale blue eyes widening into something of a stare. "What the hell -are- yo-"

Problem. Small chest-shot female sort charging her way..! Dom's confident that she can meet this rush, even if she can't put another bullet between Evelyn's eyes in time, though the moment of impact immediately suggests that she might..not be quite on top of this as she had counted on.

This little woman weighs a -shit- ton!

One of the suppressed pistols gets smacked out of Dom's hand, spinning and sliding across the floor. Now free, and being strangled by what amounts to a human-shaped vise grip, she tries to twist at least -one- of those hands away from her throat while the other gun-bearing hand comes up to try and pop Ev point-blank in the temple. Trying to throw the other body off of her is already proving to be difficult. Evelyn's heavy! That, and Dom's still kinda ragged beneath her armor from the other night's festivities.

There's another concern, as well. Ev's one hand is covered in battery acid. A tall armored collar helps somewhat and looks quite fashionable, but at strangulation level it's not going to keep all of the fluid from reaching her skin. What does make it through -burns.- Most distracting…

Distracting enough that she doesn't yet realize Clint's holding a gun of his own on her. On -them.-


Kercrash! Evelyn leaps into the air and just /pounds/ right into Domino, bowling her over, as previously suggested. That's quite some mass she has there. At first, both of Evelyn's hands are around the other woman's neck, almost all of her strength going into crushing Domino's neck, metal and acid. Evelyn's own legs straddle Domino's waist, the sneer on her face and her wide green eyes staring Domino down in a look of rage would suggest she's not looking to incapacitate her, but to instead kill Domino.
When Domino lifts her other arm to try and shoot Evelyn in the head, she releases one hand on Domino's neck to try and knock her forearm away. The loosened grip probably more than enough to give Domino room to breathe. At the same time, Evelyn's eyes fill with tears, causing her to blink as they run down her face as she chants beneath her breath, "Die. die. die." Her resolve is fading.


Great.. neither woman really is paying attention to him (so what else is new?). That means that Clint's got to get over to where they are and reach out to try and prise Evelyn off of the merc. As much as Domino might 'deserve' it, she… doesn't. (Okay, maybe she does. Still, paperwork. His apartment.)

Kicking the dropped gun out of immediate reach, the SHIELD agent reaches out to take hold of Evelyn's arm. "Hey.. hey.. off.." and he's not exactly whispering. Nor will he be gently tugging. "Get off.. before someone calls the police." He -does- live in an apartment, after all. Neighbors and all that. "Let me get you a doc… oh, Christ…" Didn't Evelyn mention something about 'battery'? Nah… "C'mon.."


Ow..ow..OW..Fucking -OW.- Domino's not fighting a regular old human, here. That part she's figured out for herself. The jarring impact of an artificial arm to a formerly wounded one equals one more pistol getting smacked to the floor. Still, looking worried aside, Dom's not one to look -desperate.- Usually. She's got one helluva strong willpower, even as her world fades to grey around the edges she grapples right back against that inhumanly strong grasp. Reduced to a single handhold she's able to claim an abrupt gasp of breath, doing all that she can to retaliate from a losing position. Pressure points, vulnerable areas, nerve clusters… Not working as intended!

Is..this bizarre construction -crying-..?

Something in the albino's mind clicks. She's acutely familiar with tears of pain. Someone this enraged wouldn't be crying over physical hurt. Right..? There's something more at play here. But..battery..artificial..she's not supposed to -have- feelings..!

Either way, if she doesn't get out from under the other gal soon then it's highly likely that one of them isn't going to live through this encounter. Thanks to none other than Clint's interference, Dom finds her window and manages to claw herself out from beneath the raging femme. Coughing. Hacking. Hoarsely.

"The -Fuck-..!" she (mostly) seconds Barton's one thought.


Evelyn doesn't immediately respond to prodding, pulling or shoving. When Hawkeye gets a good tug at her, just as Domino is trying to claw away, Evelyn jerks back and off of Domino, releasing her. Immediately she falls on her bum, shouting, "Don't touch me!" She can barely control her voice, but that's the single outburst before she scuttles backwards to the couch, where she curls almost into a ball. "D-don't touch me," she sobs, one hand going back to clutching her wound.


It really is a testament to training (and all that other experience through the years) that Clint isn't freaking out. When one works for SHIELD, one sees a whole lot of stuff… strange stuff and things that really make absolutely no sense but exists anyway. So, in this moment, a bloody (is that blood?) woman that is throttling the hell out of Domino (a merc who has managed to really piss him off), his brain has taken that proverbial backseat and he's taking it as it comes.

Welcome to his survival trait. (Or is that sanity?)

Clint dodges as Evelyn comes crashing down on her butt, sidestepping as he does. The outburst's request has already been heeded when she first started to loosen her grip on the albino, but now as the woman scrambles to the couch, he's more.. dumbfounded. Puzzled.

A glance is given to Domino, and no fool he, he makes sure all obvious weapons are out of the way before he pulls out a zip and leans over to tie Domino's wrists, roughly if need be. (If she's carrying something else, at least it'll take her time to get up and aim, giving him a somewhat clear shot…) "You.. aren't going anywhere."

"I'm going to call a doc.."


All 'obvious' weapons. That's quite a few, in fact! A total of four pistols, plenty of spare magazines, throwing knives, a few odds and ends which may or may not be tasers of some fashion, a couple of -other- small devices which may, in fact, be grenades… Dom's come prepared for war. Seems like that's just what she may have gotten, too. Lucky her!

And now she's being ziptied. Clint may have some experience there. Oddly enough, so does she. From both sides of the situation.

Insert Clint headbutt attempt here. Rough it is!

"Just try and stop me you sonuvabitch," she growls, left with that itchy/stingy/burny acid on her neck with no means of removing it from her skin short of rubbing the gunk off on a nearby piece of furniture or the like (which isn't being ruled out as a perfectly viable option.) "Gonna take more than a doc to piece your ass back together before I walk out of here. And it's gonna take one with a fucking wrench to solve her problem," the albino adds with a sharp upward motion of her chin toward Evelyn. "What the hell did you invite into your place, anyway?"


"S-stop! Don't!" Evelyn cries out in response to calling a doctor, those words slipping between her sobs. Her hand is clutching the bullet wound and acid splotch on her clothes, trying to keep it closed. A gallon of milk would just be brilliant right now. She jerks a little bit when Domino headbutts Hawkeye, not able to really get up and help him in her current position and emotional state. Instead she just falls over onto her side, assuming the fetal position while crying. With a shaking voice, she cries, "She's r-right." One of Domino's suppressed pistols is laying right near her head, and it remains there.


Clint has lots of experience with tying people up. The moment he's got her hands bound, he's wrapping his hand around the spot right in the middle and lifting to throw her off balance. When she tries to headbutt him, it's an easy sweep of his leg to try and further tip her such that she has to rely upon his strength in order to stay upright. He's noticed the red welts on her neck, but lo and behold, he's not offering a doctor's call for her!

"Are you done -yet-?" Anger and exasperation tinges those tones as blue eyes are set straight at the albino's own. "I sure as hell didn't invite -you-."

The anger that seethes there doesn't allow him to register the actual import of the Domino's words 'fucking wrench' (okay, just 'wrench'..) before Evelyn falls to her side, once again in that fetal position. "What?" Did she just say..?

It's that.. 'one can neither keep hold of the tiger's tail nor let him go' when it comes to Domino, so after kicking the various arsenal of weapons away, he makes to drag the merc to a spot where he can tie her in place- and it's none to gentle.


He didn't invite Domino. Nope! Here she's actually -grinning,- that messy mop of black hair partially covering her face now as she's put off balance in what has to be standard SHIELD takedown practice. It's kind of effective, too. Is she done yet? "Nope, though I could settle for a breather."

And now she's being dragged across the room. It might look awkward and funny if it doesn't happen to be quite so frantic, but (especially once removed from all of her gear,) she's really not all that heavy! Clint's got the upper hand and more than enough brute force to make things go his way, at least to an acceptable level.

Now dropped, and secured, onto a chair, the albino stares back up at Clint with a lopsided grin remaining upon blackened lips. "You're enjoying this." As for Evelyn, though… Such a drastic change of emotion, Dom's not sure what to make of it! Thus, sarcasm continues to rule the day. "Y'know, I think I've got Doctor Phil on speed-dial. Not sure if he deals with home appliances, though."


Evelyn remains fairly stoically in her position, not really being a danger to anything but the carpet, which has some acid on it now, too. "Shut up," Evelyn says in a tone a little under room voice. She stays curled up in her little ball, one arm folded up under her body and the other still maintaining pressure on that wound. "I'm… not a freak.. You don't know.. what you're talking about." Still crying, too. A nice pork dinner sounds so far away, now. Looking to Hawkeye, though he may not be looking at her, Evelyn says, "I didn't want you to find out like this."


Clint relocates his pistol and makes a gesture as if to point it at Domino.. just once. A silent message of 'try something and I really will shoot you'.. before he closes the distance between himself and the prone Evelyn. 'Home appliances' also ring in his ear (unless that's the hearing aid that needs readjusting!), but when it's followed up with 'I didn't want you to find out like this..'? "I don't doubt you do, Domino. Must be a quack if you're still screwed up."

"What the hell?" slips out before he can stop it when he catches the back and forth (and actually processes it!), but that doesn't stop him from kneeling down beside Evelyn. "Hey.. tell me what you need," he begins, his tones quiet but level. "If it's not a doc, you're still…" Bleeding out? Leaking? A quick glance towards his carpet shows the acid burns. Battery acid? Ow. "We've got people who can help." Well, SHIELD does…


"Yeah, well tonight's just full of surprises, isn't it," Domino sarcastically replies to Evelyn in a flat, emotionless tone. "I wasn't expecting a -machine- to screw up my evening, either. But hey, we play the hand we're given." (Okay..this acid shit's -really- starting to get on my nerves now…)

Being threatened by a pistol, regardless of how directly it might happen to be, is nothing new to her. It's also nowhere near enough to get her to knock it off. This hasn't turned into an interrogation yet so she's not going into absolute silence mode. So far the situation is still being classified as a 'slightly more than minor' inconvenience.

Back to Clint, she glances aside and gives a helpless roll of her shoulders. "I'm a helper. You might be surprised how many people cry when I step into their lives." Then as he goes to check Evelyn and her wound over, she adds "Yeah, that nasty crap that's making a mess on your floor? -It burns.- How 'bout a little help over here, huh? Pass the 'bot a roll of duct tape, she'll be fine."

Because c'mon, seriously now. Robots don't 'bleed out.' Even if they did, just swap out a few parts and flip the switch. No harm done, right? (Next time I'll have to aim for her sympathy emulator.)

Though with that thought in her mind… "Okay, seriously. You're not supposed to cry. Enough with the saline act."


"Shut up, you heartless bitch," Evelyn flings back at Domino as she sits up a little bit. Even if her sobbing stops, tears are still running down her cheeks and she sniffles now and then. This shit really burns and she's still quite emotional. "It can't be fixed, you broke it." Her tone is most defensive, angry, it's said both to Hawkeye and Domino as well. She's not about to say it in front of Domino, but with her battery having no charge, she's in big trouble. Her reactor can easily sustain her, but if it loses power for any reason, even a momentary interruption of service, she'll die. That's frightening.
Sitting up a little bit, Evelyn leans her back against the side of the couch, looking to Hawkeye. "I don't know.. It burns really badly. It's acid." Reaching up with a clean sleeve, she wipes her eyes, but the tears keep coming. She obviously can feel pain, or is really good at faking it. "I don't want to die, I need like.. Like Doctor McCoy or.. Or someone, I don't know." Tony would know what to do. He's done this before, repaired her once. "I don't know what to do."


Die. Die? "Stark," is said flatly. Clint doesn't know Dr. McCoy.. other than the most obvious one, and right now, there's no real time for joking. "Hey, hey!!" is called out between the pair, "Knock it off. Just… shut up."


The rap at the door sounds insistant, particularly with "Police," that follows just behind it. Clint looks at the two women, at the door, and back to the women. His gaze is just as much warning as the words, "Don't even try.." before he rises from his spot to deal with the door.

Opening it a crack, so as not to show off the various bits of armament strewn about on the floor, and Evelyn that sits there with a hole in her chest, brows rise and Clint sounds 'oh so very amiable' as he answers, "Yes?"

"We have a report here of a fight?"

"Um.. no." Clint takes the moment to look about, again, and returning his attention to the police, he sliiiides out the door, closing it behind him ever so gently. "I.. uh.. no. My neighbors are a little funny, you know? And I've just gotten off a particularly rough shift, and had the TV up a little too loud." As if to underscore it, he takes his hearing aid out to show, "You know how it goes.."


Heartless bitch..! Why that little-

Wait a second. How in the heck could a -machine,- any sort of artificial intelligence, even know what it means to be heartless? Where would any such response come from? Wouldn't it be impossible to comprehend that sort of statement?

(You're looking way too deep into this, girl. -Machines don't have feelings..-)

'I don't want to die.'

Well, let's just go ahead and add something -else- for the albino to think about… With Clint trying to take care of the machine..synthetic..person..thing..? and that acid still slowly burning away at parts of the merc's skin, she tries to put the moment to good use and see if she can't slip free. So long as he's distracted and all. And the burning. Goddammit, the burning. It's almost becoming more important of a matter than her own freedom.

In her eyes Clint's a small threat, and acid burns suck bigtime. "Get this shit off of my neck and I'll lay off, how's that? Hugs and kisses all around."

With the knock that suddenly comes from the door her attention jumps toward the source, surprise giving way to a malicious looking grin. Oh, she SO could… Who's the girl tied to a chair right now?

And who has the SHIELD badge.

It's a gamble. Maybe too much of a gamble. One, she wants what Clint took from her. Two, she's probably the only one in the apartment who's going to get tagged as an international terrorist as soon as the mugshots get processed. Yeah, she can read her odds on this one. Instead of turning this into an even bigger mess she merely sighs in resignation, returning her attention to Evelyn.

"I really don't get you," she states in a low tone.


Evelyn's body tenses visibly at the knocking. Her eyes widen a little bit as Hawkeye moves to answer it, and she wipes her face again with her sleeve. Carefully, Evelyn starts stripping off her sweater, dropping it next to her. Next comes the vest and red crew tee under that. It leaves her in a gray cami, giving a good look at the hole blown offset from where the heart might be, under her breast. There's a sizable black blotch, and it's not really easy to see into it, to see if she's really machine or not.
The clothes are discarded in a pile next to her as she wipes off her hands. This shit just gets everywhere. Domino does get a look of _don't even try_, before she pulls her sweater sleeve and tries to wipe off more of the acid from her chest. She stops when posed by Dom's question. "What?" Her voice cracks a little bit, even at the low tone her voice is at. She seems willing to give Domino a moment of consideration, but her brow just furrows and another tear rolls down her cheek. "What do you care, you're just like everyone else." She goes back to wiping off acid from her cami.


From outside, the voices go back and forth, and even a laugh exits one of the men before Clint slides his way back into his apartment, closing the door behind him. He waits a couple of seconds before the lock is pushed into place, and the smile drops off his face; the facade now gone. "You're not going to.. die." Yes, there was a brief pause before that word that expresses all sorts of finality. His phone is pulled from a pocket, and he searches through his contacts before he finds the one he's looking for (obviously). Clint's head bounces as he counts off the rings, and the moment it picks up on the other side, his breath pulls in and he's ready to talk… before his shoulders slouch.

Answering machine.

"Pepper.. this is Clint. I need to get in touch with Stark. It's sort of an emergency. Call me when you can."


Swinging around to check on Domino, the red welts are looking a touch more angry, but at this very moment, the… (DISROBING!) Evelyn is in a little worse shape. Triage, rightly or wrongly. "Hey.. hey.. what do you need.." Acid. What neutralizes acid? Bases.. and what sort of base does he have around here? "Let me check my workshop.."

He emerges quickly with a box of baking soda, a bowl of water and a now wet rag. Clint moves to Evelyn first, dipping the rag again, and then adding some powder. "Let me clean you up a little…" and shooting a look to Domino, his glare is plain. "You're next.. but you're gonna wait your turn."


"As someone that makes a living out of killing things I tend to like knowing just what it is that I'm destroying," Domino replies through a somewhat tense expression. The burn, the buuuurn… "Right now I'm not sure that I -do- care, but if I'm just like everyone else then I suppose it's time for me to hang up the guns and find some other outlandish line of work. Gettin' real difficult trying to be original these days, though I'm thinking you've got a pretty good corner of that market. Now how about a little help over here before this stuff eats a hole through my carotid?" she asks with a 'showing of hands' behind her. They're probably still secure back there. Y'know. Probably.

It would appear that Clint is going to be of absolutely no help yet, either. She's more than happy to give him another 'go die in a fire' glare. They're quite popular around the guy.

"No, I don't get you. Not a bit. Why would someone go through all of this trouble to put you together, particularly with the emotions and crap, then completely forget to add any sort of self-healing measure? Emotions are highly overrated, by the way. Not gonna lie to you there."

(Christ, this is SO not how I had envisioned spending my evening…)

"Gees, okay, look. You're synthetic, fine. You'll never have to worry about catching the flu, congratulations. Clint's got a bike. Think a twelve volt will help?" (And for fuck's sake could you waste a little -more- time staring at the undressed robot, Barton? Turns out I don't really need any of this skin after all.)


Evelyn gives Domino a harsh stare. When Hawkeye comes back in, she watches him with an eased expression. Some people are still decent, at least. "He's on vacation," the android says, wiping her face again. How does she even know that? Could she possibly know Tony? If only Hawkeye could read the narrative being written here. There's not much else she can say before Hawkeye runs off to his 'workshop'. In this time, Evelyn crawls over to Domino and sits up, wordlessly wiping away some of the acid from her neck with her hand. "I don't have to worry about having child or a normal life, either. I can always just be someone else's pawn, where my choices don't matter."
It's perhaps fitting that Hawkeye misses this, with the acid wiped away, she sorts of staggers back to where she was and slumps back down next to her pile of clothes. She has to wipe her face again, then wipe her hands off on her dirty clothes. "With all of the advantages of getting to be looked down on by people like you." She's frowning, unhappy Evelyn. When Hawkeye returns, she looks at the baking soda and doesn't really say anything. "Be careful, okay?" Having holes blown into her chest means the vacuum seal is disturbed, though she's probably all gunked up now anyways.


Even in a styrofoam container, the BBQ pork is getting cold. Dammit. And worse, the beer is getting warm.

Clint's missed most of the interaction between the pair, though he did catch the comment about a 12-volt. For a brief moment in time, he -almost- thinks that might be a good idea, but it's tossed aside as a 'not as good as one first thought' sort of thing. Settling down in an 'indian seat', he daubs near the wound, working his way towards the gaping hole, gently wiping away the acid. He's making a paste, letting it sit and cool, then wiping it down again with a cool rag. Paste. Rinse. Repeat.

"On vacation.. you know Stark then, huh?" Well, there's first dumb question of the night. She's .. not really human. A synthetic.. of -course- Stark would have something to do with it. Might even have made her? Maybe? (Probably. Almost to the side of definitely.)

"Carotids are overrated. And don't worry. If I don't get to you on time, SHIELD has some good docs."


Huh. Domino files this piece of information away for later. Though, she can't say that she's surprised to hear that little Evvie here happens to be in communication with someone like Stark. The part that does surprise her..? That Evelyn's coming to the merc's aid. With the acid being poked at, and the fresh and festering wound beneath it, the damage which had already been done suddenly becomes known to the albino in full. The sharp intake of breath which results is a bit more involuntary than she'd like to admit to, baring her teeth for a moment as the gunk is wiped clear. And perhaps for a little while longer after the fact.

"Your choice to let another boss you around, Ev," she replies in a lower tone. Mostly because OW. "Though don't think you're the only 'pawn' in this game."

Then Evelyn's sympathy party begins. Maybe Dom's reeling in the blatant sarcasm but she's still not making much effort to be friendly. "Oh spare me, you wanna talk about being looked down on? The only way I get any respect is by kicking metric tons' worth of ass. At least you can pass for normal until somebody happens to shoot you."

When Clint asks about Stark she simply rolls her eyes. Because -someone- had to put it to words before the night was over. "Then you won't mind me borrowing yours later," she dispassionately replies.


Evelyn replies to Domino, "Unfortunately, I don't." Have a choice. She doesn't have much of one, given any choice to pull away would leave her life in shambles beyond repair. "Because of things like this. You can heal, I can't." What she means, is that if she left the CIA, there'd be no parts for her anymore. It wouldn't take long for her to take enough damage to stop functioning. She may not be terribly fragile, but guns are typically more life threatening than falling a couple of stories. You can be trained to survive that, you cannot be trained to take a gunshot any better then the next person.
A little gasp between clenched teeth shows that Evs still feels pain, even as the wound is cleaned. The gentle tugging on burned neural fibre just triggers away to pain receptors in her programming, there's nothing she can do to really nullify it. The paste bubbles a little bit in contact with the acid.
"I met Stark once." Evelyn concedes, "At a party. It was weird." She reaches up again to wipe away the last of her tears. She has such a headache from crying so much. Man, going home sounds so nice right now. And just sleeping forever.
As the acid is wiped away, you can see a bit of the metal beneath her skin around the wound. There's a hole, it's not really clear how deep it goes, but it's attached to something fairly solid and big. The difference in skin softness near the wound is almost surreal. Poke anywhere, and she's soft, poke around the wound, and the hard interior shows through. Jagged bits of metal complement the battery, it's pretty messy.


"Nope. Though I understand they're growing them in the labs now. Shouldn't be too hard to find."

Clint sits back to look at his handiwork (HIS, not HERS!), and exhales as he sets the rag aside. (No, not going to poke!) Each woman is looked at, his gaze lingering on both in turn before he shakes his head. "I could offer you both a job in SHIELD, but frankly.." and here, blue eyes land upon Domino first, "You'd be a little bit of a problem." And they say the English are the masters of understatement! "You on the other hand," and it's towards Evelyn that he looks, "we could use you. Not.. 'use', use.. though I'm pretty sure Fury wouldn't be above that once in a while.. but.. you know what I mean." Right? Right?

"I could put in a good word to the big guy?"


"You always have a choice," Domino automatically replies with a hint of irritation. (The number of times I put myself in the crosshairs because I chose not to be the one pulling the trigger…) The thought is followed up with a muttered "God, this is awkward." (She really -is- a machine… Okay, there's one mystery solved, I guess.)

Then Clint mentions the idea of them both working for SHIELD. Dom's icy blue stare once more falls upon him, holding for a moment before she breaks out -laughing.- She's very nearly crying, herself!

"Ooh man," she trails off in barely restrained amusement, "I need a drink." There's another brief pause as she glances to either side of her chair before she shrugs slightly, lunges forward, then lifts herself and the chair right off of the floor so she can start shuffling her way into the kitchen.

These two don't need her around to have their little moment.


"I can't," Evelyn says again, looking to Domino and then Hawkeye. "I.. work for the CIA. I can't leave. I'm sorry."
It's pretty true that Evelyn looks a little sullen after saying that, "I hate working with them, but at least they let me go out once every two weeks to leave the base. I didn't even get that when I was a kid." There's so many things that are wrong with that sentence, and possibly moreso when she acts like that's _normal_. A little bit of acid sort of seeps through the hole when she tries to stand up, but she grunts and bares it, standing anyways.
Looking at Hawkeye, "Sit down, do you have a medkit? I'll fix your arm."


Clint scowls with pressed lips at the laughter, ignoring the rest of Domino's bit. Or at least he seems to.. before he grabs one of the knives pulled from the merc and lets it fly. With a *thunk*, it buries itself in the wood of the chair upon which she's tied. "Don't do that."

That scowl remains, and if it actually could, it deepens as he shakes his head. "Look. We could make you disappear easily. Gone. If you've got any trackers on you, they'd be gone. Could set you up with a personal jamming system." The 'I can't' hits Clint a little harder, perhaps, than it should. "And I hate like hell agreeing with whitey over there, but it seems that once in awhile, she's actually right. At least this one time. You always have a choice."

Watching the struggle to rise, he shakes his head again when he realizes that 'oh yeah'.. how many times has he 'been there, done that'? "It's okay. I'll wrap it. You stay put and we'll find someone that can be trusted to fix you.." Fix? Heal? Repair?

"You were a kid?" Oops.. that just sort of.. slipped out. "Sorry," comes on the tail, but— with all the revelations? An AI child? Really?


In one split second of time Dom's not sure if she's more caught off guard by the knife now lodged into the chair she's still hooked to..or the fact that Evelyn just admitted to being CIA. "You -what?-" she blurts out, staring at the other woman while this new piece of information sinks in.

(This is really not the apartment that I want to be unarmed in…)

Coming back to her senses she glances back to the blade, HER blade, glares at Clint once more, then -drops- herself and the chair down right where she had stood.

You always have a choice. Right now it's her choice to continue being a bitch.

"My tiny white ass, you can't leave. Wait, you were a -kid- at some point? Okay, that's kinda creepy. Now look, the only one having any difficulty stepping out right now is me," she declares with another displeased stare to Clint. At least she's still capable of doing that much without having things getting thrown her way. "This may well be your lucky night, you've got two people right here that know how to make a person disappear. If you're -really- lucky, by 'disappear' I mean 'relocate' and not 'bury.' Now until you find the nerve to actually take control of your own life, ol' Barton and I have some unfinished business to deal with." And back to Clint she looks! "Either do something with me or get me the hell out of this chair, I'm gettin' bored over here."


Evelyn sits back down on the couch, looking up at Clint. "I doubt it. You really don't know what you're asking." Evelyn says, "I want to leave the CIA, but I don't think it's possible. I'm sick of their stuff, trust me." At least she's finally let it slip that she hates being a CIA agent. One step in the right direction.
When Clint asks about her being a child, her expression goes sour as she looks at him incredulously. "Yes. I was a child. I had parents. They traded me back to the lab because my father hated me. Next question?"
"And you, why do you even think for a second I'd trust what comes out of your mouth? You shot me. Asshole." shoots Evelyn to Domino.


The fact that he even agrees with Domino on this one rankles the hell out of him. There's that part of him that wants to simply objectify her, turn her into a 'non person' and just be done with it all. A bullet in the head and everything will be all better.

Not this time.

"That's right. Just sit there."

An exhaled sigh escapes the man and Clint shakes his head. "Do you have any idea how far reaching SHIELD is? Really. We probably have the CIA on constant surveillance. My guess is, the uppers actually not only know about you, but could be working on getting you onto our side." Of course, setting her up and making her the fugitive, which would almost force her to work for SHIELD. Barton wouldn't be at all surprised. "I mean, hell.. you were right in the middle of one of my ops. Right place, right time."

It appears, however, that he does owe Evelyn an apology, and Clint offers one. A genuine one, even. "Sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. It was just.. you know.."

It's not the first -sigh- of the evening, and it won't be the last, he's sure, and Clint rises to his feet to cross the distance between he and Domino. Pulling the knife from the wood, he looks around the apartment for those guns before grabbing her arms to lift her to her feet. He has to cut her from the chair.. but after that, he's going to be manhandling her towards the door. "If I find that you're in my place again, you're not going to like it." At all. "There won't be a place you can run to ground. Do you understand?"


"You're right, I -shot- you," Domino counters. "I also shot Barton. At no point did I -lie- to you. My aim doesn't speak for my motives, Jenny Five. But by all means, trust the SHIELD spook. They're -way- more trustworthy than the CIA."

The part that she doesn't hint at is the uncomfortable sense of familiarity that Evelyn's history brings about. There's a lot more that she could be adding to this conversation. A lot more, and a lot more that Barton -does not- need to be knowing about.

Instead she lets her sarcasm off the leash yet again. Next question: "Where do you plug your phone in to charge?"

That's for calling her an asshole.

Y'know what, there's a knife stuck to the back of her chair… Maybe she can reach i-shit. Nevermind. On the upside, she's getting hauled free of the chair..! Finally. On the downside…

He's going to kick her out the front door. Without her weapons.

"I understand that I'm about to add several more items to the list of things that you took from me," she announces on their way to the door. Yet, should he actually try to throw her -out- of the door? His odds aren't looking too good, there. She'll run right up the doorframe and backflip over his head if he wants to push THAT direction. He's only a little over six feet, she can totally clear him.


Evelyn listens to Clint talk for a bit about SHIELD. She knows about SHIELD, it's not like they're any less known than the CIA. Just… Yeah.
At the apology, she simply replies, "Yeah. I know." She's an android. What with popular media depicting her as this soulless automaton, the actual image and reality of a robot can be a little startling. She's pretty humanlike. Or maybe just actually human, without the biological parts.
"That movie wasn't even very good!" counters Evelyn as Domino is pushed out the door. As soon as Domino tries anything with Hawkeye, Eve backpedals silently into another room.


Clint tries, he really does, to ignore Domino. Other than the fact that he's trying to throw her out of his apartment. Literally. Here's hoping there aren't any neighbors coming home late from work, or sticking their noses out of their doors- because that would mean another visit from New York's finest. And the last thing he wants…? Yes, he'd get a nasty-gram from the boss.

Throwing the albino out is proving to be more difficult than he first thought, and damn the fact that the law was passed that there are bars required on windows from the second floor on or he'd toss her the hell out the window. Defenstration is always an option. Just not in the city.

Reaching out in a grab the moment she slips up and over his head, Clint swings around, ready and in place for when she lands. Little known fact… he used to work in a carnival. He's not better than the mutants that had almost the same experience, but he's got some of that knowledge at his fingertips, as it were. "Oh, goddammit.. Just get the hell out. I'll mail you the damned guns." Of course, he could if he had her address… but that's unlikely. Isn't it?


Aaand there's Barton again. Sigh… "Conversely, you could cut my damn hands free, -give- me my guns, then we could have that beer you offered back when we got started, because -now- I'm in a 'get trashed' mood instead of a 'cut your string fingers off for getting your nose into my business' mood. Though that one could always make a second showing," Domino is all too happy to warn.

Pause. Blink. There's an insult or three missing here, isn't there.

"Where did C3-PO'ed go?"


Evelyn, having snuck a bit away, entered another room of the house to escape via window. Foiled, her hands come against the bars as she looks them up and down and gives a test rattle. These won't budge. Looking around, she eventually spots the fire escape, and she opens it carefully, just as Domino notices she's missing.
Time to go! Slipping out through the window, Evelyn hits the firescape. She sees the cans hanging from the strings, but doesn't try to avoid them. Moving is hard enough as it is, without having to avoid noise traps. The jingle of the cans is enough to notify anyone of her presence. Specifically, she's lept over the side of the railing, clinging to the other side as she makes a quick escape by climbing/sliding/somewhat falling down until she hits the ground, ready to run.
Of course, this also means she left her pork and her clothes. Including one wallet.


That beer really is sounding better and better all the time. It really is. "Like that's going to— aw, crap."

The sound of beer cans rattling gains Clint's attention, and he makes a tactical mistake. He goes for the fire escape rather than dealing with the issue at hand, namely a merc. Running out, he leans on the iron bars of the turn of the century escape and looks down, catching a glimpse of the departing Evelyn. Of course, the sound draws other eyes outside, and calls come, "Quit the racket!"


Goddammit… and turning about, Clint makes his way back into the apartment— aw, crap. If he had time to facepalm, he would. It's a gesture, perhaps, he should refine to be able to use it at any given second. Now would be the time. Her clothes are here, what else.. oh.. and Domino. How the hell could he forget her?



Where did she go? Sounds like she went out the window..! -Awesome.- Domino's got a free distraction, how fortunate is that! As Clint abandons her and runs for the fire escape Dom practically throws herself back into the first padded seat she can find in order to work her arms around beneath her feet until they're up in front of her again. Not enough wiggle-room with zipties to do this in a single hop like she can handcuffs, but the end result is what she's really caring about.

And hey, look! Knives! All she need do is pounce the one nearest to her location and cut herself free!

And then there are her guns. Look at her, all 'not leaving empty-handed and unarmed-like.'

Or..not leaving at all. There the slight albino woman stands, weight favoring one leg, suppressed pistol in hand. For that one moment of time the gun itself seems to hold her complete interest, as though debating whether or not it has anything to say in her defense. When her name is spoken she lifts her gaze, staring right back at the Archer.

This time the *Click!* comes from the sound of her thumbing the nine millimeter's decocker.

"We get hammered. Then we go our separate ways. You stay out of my business. I stay out of yours. One time offer only."


Evelyn hits the ground, looking back momentarily to see the people shouting at her for the noise, and then Hawkeye looking out after her. She gives him a kind of look, it isn't vengeful, angry, or blank. More.. pained. He's gone before she can mouth anything back, probably for the best. With that, she digs her phone out of her pocket, pats her other pockets. "Damnit." And then goes off for a run.

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