asthehawkflies | [#003] {Violence for fun and profit} Action/Video

Entry tags:

[#003] {Violence for fun and profit} Action/Video

[It's a routine they indulge in whenever they're in the same place for more than a couple of days. This seems like a good enough time to pick it back up, test each other a little, and they claim one of the rooms in the Battle Dome, equipping it with mats and padded walls because while the simulation won't allow them to get really hurt by weapons, Clint isn't sure that it can make getting slammed to the ground any less painful.]

Ready, Tasha?

[He's grinning, as much a mask to hide his intentions as her blank expression. They take up position on the mats opposite each other, and there's no bowing, no politeness, just stillness.

He strikes first, a punch that she blocks, returns with a blow of her own, and then they're fighting in earnest. It's vicious, both of them making use of every move at their disposal, a brutal mix of martial arts and outright brawling, dirty tricks and all.

A throw sends Clint sprawling, hitting the bench where they'd left their stuff, and his journal falls open, starting to record the rest of the fight. To anyone not familiar with them, it does look like they're genuinely trying to kill each other. Neither of them really believe in pulling their punches and they're eerily silent while they fight, neither of them making any noise besides grunts of exertion.

They seemed evenly matched for the most part, Clint's size and strength well matched by Natasha's speed and agility and the training she'd undertaken since childhood. Eventually though, one of them comes out on top, and it's Clint who ends up floored and winded, laid out on his back, Natasha above him, pinning him down and her elbow pressed against his throat.

He groans softly, and then smiles.]

I yield.

[OOC: Responses will be answered by Clint, or Natasha, or more likely, both.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The sudden change in her demeanour is a little surprising considering how grim things had gotten, but it's not unwelcome.

He gives a smile and a nod.]

Yeah, I have it. One of them anyway.

I'd like to see.

[See just how good he is. How long has it been since she's been around someone better? Since her father was still alive. Since he could still teach her all the tricks to hunting game that enhanced what he said was already natural talent.

It could be nice, maybe, to learn something new.]

Sure. I'm always up for an audience.

You're an archer?

[He relaxes a little as the conversation turns to something that gives him actual pleasure. As much as archery is a weapon for him, it's also comfort and focus.]

[She nods. Her bow and quiver are downstairs by the door, where she had left them after the morning's hunt. Easy to pick up on the way out.

It's not the amazing bow Beetee created. Her Mockingjay bow. Or even her father's bow that she had inherited. Just a simple one she had found in the weapon's shop, along with a simple quiver of arrows. But her aim was good. And her aim was what mattered most when stalking game.]

For just about as long as I can remember.

Plenty of practice then. I've been doing archery since I was ten or eleven. Barely passed a day without picking one up 'cept when I've been out of commission.

[And even then, they'd sometimes had to sedate him to keep him from trying.]

Dad started teaching me when I was seven.

[Just about as long as she could remember. Before that, she'd help him with simple snares and with gathering roots and plants in the woods. She had always been his hunting partner. Up until the day he died. And she had been so, so proud and happy when he had crafted the small child's size bow for her. A bow now kept safely locked in the trunk of what was once Rue's room here. She had intended to teach the little girl. But Rue had left before they really had a chance to begin.

Maybe she can forgive the man his accidental video in the journal.]

I'm Katniss.

I got taught when I was part of a travelling circus. All kinds of projectiles. But it was archery that stuck most.

[He thinks it might've been nice to be taught by someone from your family though. He'd thought that of Swordsman for a while, and then Trickshot, replacement fathers who'd let him down just as much as his real dad had.]

Clint.

[Clint. Not Rick. She'll remember that and she promises herself that she won't make the mistake of mistaking the two ever again. That he's an archer helps immensely.

She doesn't ask about the travelling circus. That would just lead to all sorts of questions of things she doesn't know and might just not want to know about. Panem et circenses, Pultarch had said. Bread and games. She's sick of games.

So on to the next topic.]

Do you hunt?

[Despite himself, he's kind of looking forward to this. Not many others who use the same weapon of him, and usually not as a weapon anyway. There's a difference between shooting for sport and shooting for combat, same as with guns.]

Animals? I have done in the past when I've needed to.

[But where he's been based, it's normally been easier to steal what he's needed from shops than go out hunting.]

I hunt every morning.

[With winter's approach, she's tried to increase her efforts before animals go into hibernation. Jerky, though not as appetizing as fresh meat, can last long. And it helps having the freezer in the house, a luxury she lacked growing up. She'll have plenty of meat saved come first snow. The less she has to rely on the Malnosso for goods, the better.]

If you want, if you're as good as you say you are, maybe you can come.

[He raises an eyebrow at that. The food isn't scarce here and the Battledome isn't bad to train but he's not going to question it.]

Impressive.

[He grins at her and nods.]

Sure, I'd love to. I have a mission in a couple of days, but after that, well, my time is not exactly full of engagements.

[She hunts for more than just food. She hunts to maintain her sanity. She hunts because... it's what she does. What she's always done. Without Peeta here, she feels lost. Giving up, dying at Clove's hand. She needs to hunt even if she comes back empty handed. Those hours spent in the woods are the only hours of peace she ever feels that she has.

But he doesn't question why she hunts. It's nice, not having to explain herself. She hasn't had to for a long time. Not since that invasion of refugees and food shortage that actually did occur.

She quirks an eyebrow.]

You still have to prove you're good enough first.

[He finds himself grinning at that bit of challenge, and he nods.]

So name your target, Katniss, and prove myself.

[She lets the smile become infectious and grins back. But the grin doesn't last as she falls quiet, thinking of possible targets. The forest is out. The trees barely have any leaves or fruit left to aim at. And this is supposed to be a show of skill. Landing your arrow in the trunk of a tree didn't count. She didn't know how to program the Battledome properly. Didn't want to let that ignorance show. Not when she wanted to impress this man. The archer that looked like Rick.]

Do you know where the Smithy is? [She should have thought of it right away.] There's a target area set up there. That could work.

[The flash of a grin is good to see, even if it doesn't last for long. Seen too many people forget how to enjoy things after going through hell, and he doesn't doubt that Katniss has been through hell.]

I'm sure I can find it. If I don't show up after a couple of days, then we might have a problem.

[That gets another quick grin. Luceti isn't all that big. It only takes minutes to cross from one side of the town to the other. If it took him more than an hour, he really probably wasn't much of a soldier.]

Can you be there in fifteen minutes?

I think that might be doable. I'll see you there.

[And he is there, quiver slung over his shoulder and bow in hand.]

[She stops short when she sees him standing there. Her own quiver is strapped across her back and her bow slung over her right shoulder. The leather hunting jacket that once belonged to her father falls down to mid-thigh, keeping her warm despite the fall weather. If not for the bow and quiver, she could almost mistake him for someone else.

Shaking her head, snapping herself out of the memories, Katniss takes a deep breath and the remaining steps closer. Glancing up at him briefly, her attention quickly turns to the bow in his hand, assessing the quality. And she grins.]

You found it.

[Clint's wearing a t-shirt and has switched into jeans for now, something comfortable and easy to move in, his SHIELD jacket over his shoulders. He grins when he sees her, and waves.]

I managed. Had a bit of trouble back in town, took a wrong turning, but I got here.

It's a good place to know. The work done here is good.

[She says this despite noting his bow and quiver. Sometimes, arrows are hard to retrieve from their targets. Or, as in her case, lost in the woods on those occasional - and frustrating - misses.]

I'll bear it in mind. At some point I'll need more ammo.

[He's been refraining from using it for training, preferring to practice with the simulations in the Battle Dome, just to avoid breaking or losing what he had.

After a moment, he holds out his bow towards her.]

Want to take a look.

[There's no mistaking the excitement on her face when he holds out the bow to her. Excitement she hasn't felt since before Peeta left. She accepts the bow without hesitation and curves her fingers around the grip. The bow is clearly better make than her own simple weapon. More akin to the ones the Capitol provided in the Hunger Games.

Her fingers brush the bow gently, plucking the string curiously. It's good quality. Very good quality.

Inspection done, she hands it back to him.] You didn't get this here, did you?

[Well, he's glad that it meets her approval. He can't help but grin as she looks it over. It's a lot better than his first bow had been, with little enhancements made to suit him in combat, but in the end it's still a bow, an extension of himself.]

No, this is from home. It's custom made.

I had one like this.

[Custom made. Meant just for her. As much as she wishes it was her father's bow that came to mind first, it isn't. That bow had never been made for her. He never had the chance to craft her her own adult bow before his death.

But Beetee had. Beetee had made her that beautiful Mockingjay bow. The one that responded to her voice, that had all those little enhancements to make her already excellent aim even better. And the arrows he had crafted to go with it...

She doesn't miss most of the Mockingjay costume. But she does miss that bow.]

It hasn't shown up here yet. I don't know if it will. [She slips her own bow form her shoulder. A simple wooden thing, nothing nearly as good as his.] I got this here. It works well. [And then, a quick, prideful grin fills her face.] I even succeeded in taking down my first solo dear with it.

I'm lucky in the resources I have, who I work for.

[SHIELD's R&D department were good at what they did, and creative. So different to when he'd first started shooting with a cheap second hand bow.

He takes a look at the wooden one that Katniss shows him. It's nothing as fancy as his with it's electronics and enhancements. But... it's still a bow. People used them to deadly effect for centuries.]

If it works, then that's all you need. [He grins back.] Sounds impressive.

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video] ----> [Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]