Not your job

January 30, 2015: Hawkeye meets the traveler Kendrin in a Gotham park.

Gotham Park

A park near the Trigate bridge. Cold. Dark. It's Gotham.



Mood Music:

Cold. Really cold. Dark. For some reason, Gotham seems much darker than New York City. Probably because it is. The wind is kicking up and the weather reports are calling for below-freezing temperatures and snow.

It's hard to keep warm at times like these, and Agent Clint Barton curses his luck with ever fibre of his being. Only two weeks ago he was in sunny Hawaii, hanging ten. And now?

Gotham. Checking up on the Trigate that had been destroyed or virtually destroyed almost a month ago.

He's at work, and present as a 'public' figure; as such, he's got his dark clothes on, bow in hand, a quiver of arrows on his back. And his pistol on his thigh, on the left side. The wind blows, giving the man something of a chill, but there's little reaction as he begins to make his way back to a dark sedan parked some distance away from the 'park side' of the bridge.


Most people would consider it something of a miserable night for being out and about. Kendrin isn't most people. She's been cooped up in a very nice, gilded cage for the last two or three days, and she's had enough. The only way, she knows, to get to know a city and its people is to explore it. And that's what she's done since very early in the morning. After all, even the ever-dour May has to shower and use the facilities sometime. Besides, Kendrin left her bedroll and change of clothes there, so it should be evident she intends to return. Eventually.

She wears very much the same garb she wore when she arrived, save that she changed her shirt and added a scarf and some gloves. The coat is done up, concealing all her weapons, including the small quiver down her left thigh (her pistol's on her right). She has the hood on her coat up as proof against the wind though, really, the ferret-like creature draped over her shoulders makes a remarkably good windbreak.

The pair emerge from between a pair of stout trees, the woman raising her hand to the ferret, offering him a piece of roasted meat. He takes the offering with an appreciative murrp, as she pops a second piece into her own mouth. She notes the sedan, but it doesn't overly concern her. Though, when she notes the hunter with his bow, a brow arches faintly and her steps slow.


There aren't many people out and about in this weather. Friday night, hell. They're all home, tucked up safe and sound, or out on the town drinking and trying to forget they live in -Jersey- of all places. This isn't even where he'd want to be on a Friday night.

But, true to form, in the worst place imaginable at the beginning of a weekend. Of course.

Pausing under a dim light post, Clint pulls out a phone, manipulates it, though he curses softly at the cold, and looks to put it back in his pocket. Instead, a second or two passes, and he considers briefly before fingers swipe across the top. And then he puts it away before blowing on cold fingers. Fingerless gloves only offer so much warmth.

The appearance of a woman emerging from the park itself brings Clint's attention around, and he straightens, rolls his shoulders, and begins a path towards the woman. Nothing in itself is untoward, nothing illegal, but who would be out at this time? Only the homeless, which she doesn't really look like.

"Hey," is called once Clint doesn't have to shout to be heard. His breath can easily be seen in the air in the form of puffs, and as he gets closer, the creature looks… not like a dog. Or a cat. Or, perched up there as it is on her shoulder, a bird. "It's cold out here." Public service announcement brought to you by Hawkeye, and the JL:A! You're welcome.


The man speaks and Kell raises his head, blinking large, reflective eyes at him. His wings are tucked in against his body for warmth, so he looks more like a ferret than a bird… despite the long catlike tail. He glances at his companion and prrts softly.

Kendrin scritches his head to reassure him, as her omnitool translates the speech. And she hopes it's reasonably accurate.

"Cold. Yes." She nods, pausing in her steps as the wind swirls up some snow around them. "Hello." That's the courteous response, isn't it? She's not entirely sure, but she doesn't let that show on her face. Her face, in fact, assumes a pleasant, if neutral, expression. A pretty decent pokerface, really.


Okay, that's a bit freaky. Clint's caught the gleam of HawkPuppy's eyes when light hits it at a certain angle, but that.. that's just some sort of strange. Still, with all the superfund sites around Jersey?

The accent is different; light. Definitely not Gotham. "You got somewhere to go?" Just in case, anyway. Clint doesn't look like he's going to up and kidnap her. His own expression is one of studied consideration; for the moment, she's piqued his curiosity.

"Supposed to get colder, and snow is coming on tomorrow."


Kendrin glances towards the clouds, briefly, and then to the man. "Yes," she says simply in response. "The clouds are heavy." She considers his question. "I have a place, yes. Not far from here." Just don't ask her to try and explain the place. That'll just make it all the weirder. "I am… looking at… the community." She hopes that's an adequate translation.

Kell stares back at the man, sticking his head out and sniffing the air between them. He pulls his lips back to show sharp teeth, his ears flattening some.

Kendrin reaches up to tap his nose. He grumps at her.


"Neighborhood?" Clint shakes his head slowly and turns around to look at the Trigate bridge in its mostly crumbled state. "See that? That's pretty much the way the whole city looks. Depressing and pretty much not very safe." Just in case the opinion is missed, the archer shrugs his shoulders, "Only reason I come here is because I'm paid to."

Okay, not so true. At least anymore. Now, Clint has to do the altruistic thing on occasion, but he's drawing the line at kissing babies. That, he'll let Cap do.

The hissing of the .. what the hell is that thing? Clint stares at the perching creature for a few long moments before he looks to the woman, and back to the creature. "What? You smell my dog? Or the fact that the colder it gets, the more the water freezes in the river and the other things that can't freeze, congeals?"


The omnitool VI chatters in Kendrin's ear, trying to translate the man's speech. In the end, the woman cants her head and regards him with an odd look on her face. Kell takes that as a sign and hisses softly. She bats his nose again, and he grumps, and glares balefully at the man. "I am…" she says slowly… and then she chuffs softly and raises her left arm so she can shove the sleeve up and consult the omnitool on her wrist. She gestures across a sensor quickly. A small display hovers on the surface of her cuff. "I am to help protect," she sounds out carefully, glancing at him as she does. "She-who-watches-unseen has asked it."


Okay. There's a disconnect going on, and Clint's smart enough to recognize it. He already worked out a few minutes ago that she's just 'not from around here'. The question then is the where is 'not from around here'?

"Okay." Clint clears his throat and shifts his position slightly; it's damned cold! He's all but stomping his feet to keep feeling in his feet, through the boots. "You're not from around here, but you were asked to help protect the place?" Does he sound dumbfounded enough? Incredulous, even? "By… 'She who watches unseen..'" Gotham. Who—

"Awww, no."

That tech, though. It's not from around here either; not SHIELD tech anyway. He'd recognize that in a heartbeat. "Okay, let's try this. What's your name?"


Oh, that's an easy translation. She's got that one down! "Kendrin," the woman replies, deciding not to elaborate as she did with the swordsman. She watches the bowman shift, and feels Kell's weight shift, too. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out another strip of roasted meat and passes it to the drakeling, distracting him for a moment. He eyes her for a moment, but takes it, fully aware of her intention. But, hey. Roasted meat is roasted meat. Just don't ask either of them just what the meat is. They have no clue. 'Tree-rat' doesn't translate well. "What is your name?"



Clint watches her movements, and the strips of meat pulled. That's not meat from the local Acme, he's willing to bet. Rabbit? Squirrel… Squirrel, probably. Rabbits are gone. He is, after all, not originally from cities. Born and spent formative years on a farm, and varminting wasn't out of the ordinary to keep fields 'safe'. (Okay, it was fun, too.)

"Barton." One name is pretty much good enough. And should she mention his name to almost anyone (like the suspected 'she who watches unseen'.. huh. A SHE?), chances are good they'll know immediately who she's talking about.

And maybe take it as a hint.

"You know that you don't have to protect the city, right? Not your job." Not a requirement. "In fact, if you do and get caught, it might not be a good thing."


The omnitool processes. Kendrin arches a brow. "How?" she replies, both curious and wary. "I was told it would be…" another quick check of the 'tool… "employment. And I can repay…" A pause. She considers. Finally, she says, "hospitality." She's probably stating this badly. Pity more people don't have the swordsman's gift for languages. Another beat and she cants her head. She consults the 'tool one more time and asks, "Are you… watchman?" She's seen watchmen that walk around late at night with bows long before now, after all.


Clint's shoulders seem to relax, and he exhales in a breath. Twisting around to look at the car that offers warmth, the archer opts to stay out in the cold. But, he does gesture towards it. "I can give you a ride to where ever you need to go," is put out there. He doesn't seem to have anything beyond that in his tones; just the offer of a ride.

"Yeah, well.." and a hand reaches up to pull on the back of his neck. "You see… I'm willing to bet that .. uh .. watchmen didn't offer you a job. There are people in town who are supposed to do that sort of stuff. Like me." Here, Clint pulls out his wallet, and there is a badge there, and ID. SHIELD. Complete with his picture. "Anyone who tells you to do stuff like that would be breaking the law." Even if it's for a good cause. He nods his head, "Yeah. A watchman. This city is bad, though. Help is nice, but asking someone who isn't from around here is just crappy."


Kendrin considers that. She nods slowly to his words, not his offer. She'd prefer to walk. The problem, it occurs to her is that a) she's not speaking the language clearly enough to assess or provide nuance and b) he seems to have some sort of authority. The badge… well, every place she's been, the authority have some sort of identifier like that. Or, at least, an identifier of some kind.

Now, she doesn't know this world very well, yet. But she does know that cops the 'verse over tend to get tetchy about strangers appearing on their beat. On the bright side, he's not nearly as tetchy as Mother May. But Kendrin is quickly running out of options in terms of who to trust.

"I will walk," she tells him carefully. "I am not cold." Kell sniffs disdainfully and his wings rustle just a little. "I will think about what you have said." That's the best she can do, really. At least, it is until she can figure out the real lay of the land. She'll have to plug the 'tool into that vast information network she discovered the other day and see what it says. Not, mind, that will be her be-all-and-end-all of resources. But, it will be a start.


Now, if Kendrin thinks that Clint is going to 'insist' that she go with him, she'd be wrong. The wallet is replaced, and he rolls his shoulders, a soft *bristle* sound coming from the quiver. It's a strange looking thing, little red blinky-lights occasionally lighting. Nothing moves, or seems to. Just the tops of fletchings can be seen.

"Make sure you go and get warm, Kendrin. I don't care if you say you're not cold, it's going to get even colder." And Clint can't wait to get into the car and drive home to New York. "Think about it." There's a moment of consideration, and the wallet comes out again, and a card is pulled out before the wallet is replaced. On it, Clint's name (Clint F. Barton) and a number where he can be reached. "This is how you can get in touch with me."


Kendrin takes the card and looks at the glyphs. They don't mean much to her, but she'll scan them into the 'tool later. She nods to him. "Thank you. Be warm." It's as close as she can come to some sort of formal goodbye, at the moment. She starts to turn from him, leaving him to head back to his car. As they part, Kell launches himself from her shoulders and circles the parking area once before soaring on ahead of her as she heads back toward the subdivision.

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