Now I've been labeled a renegade

[Here's Clint with a pair of bird slippers - the problem is, these bird slippers are ...flying.

That's right. Accidental video is go as the entire barge is treated to one SHIELD agent trying to grab for the slippers which have decided to roost on the top of the top of a hotel issue bookshelf peering down at him. Bird slippers, who knew?

The dilemma is, that once he does catch them - climbing down with an amused look on his face he grins, standing.]

Hey, to whoever gave me the slippers thanks. [Dry look] They're cute but how are they doing that? Because honestly -

[He gets no farther however as his eyes roll back into his head and he drops with a thud to the floor, Someone has achieved coma status folks.]


[Coma'd for the month until I can canon-review. Whoever comes to find him will find his door miraculously open and his bow and arrows locked up tight.]

[When Mal makes a post Clint does a quick search of the ship. He'd hidden for different reasons, taking time to heal his broken arm. It's still in a sling but they say he'll heal fast.

It's a hell of a place. This ship. In more ways then one. When he stops in front of her room he taps on her door, two sharp taps and a long one.

Then he speaks.]

...Go ahead, open the door so you can laugh at my mullet.

[Here is a dapper fed, Redemption. Crisp and polished, he has a faint mustache on his upper lip and a slight twist of a beard below. When he speaks there is the slightest hint of a Louisiana accent, but it's slight. Awhile back his mug made the pictures-killing a cop killer. You might've seen him. Called him the "Hawk" and the name has stuck.

Despite the clothes, despite the bearing there is a haunted look in his eyes for those who can see it. ]

Did I miss official speech day? I feel like we ought to mark the date with a little more celebration and ceremony. Redemption is a lot of things, and I think words are needed to mark it by but I don't have anything prepared that is say...the equal of what others have offered.

Esteemed members of the bureau...and local businessmen alike. [There is an emphasis on the words local and businessmen.]

So instead I'll offer a piece of wisdom from the carnival. [This Clint was raised there, and isn't proud of his heritage like the original clint you all might know.] Don't wait for applause. Bow and run, because the audience can be full of fickle people and it's better to get out of town before you're pelted with rotten fruit.

Advice to better men then me, who might have better words to say. [He tips his hat to the crowd] Folks.

[Private to Grayson]

Sorry I was out of the office. [He has been out of the office a lot lately.] Where're we needed?

[Clint Barton for the breach is-Clint Barton. Federal agent. A couple of years or so prior to this he killed a cop killer-Phil Coulson. His name was in the papers and "The Hawk" has been a pretty consistent face to the federal movement to clean up the city. The problem with that? Phil Coulson was innocent. Clint exists in the mob's pocket in whatever capacity. He has been subtly informing ON the bureau in an effort to save his own reputation and justifies it to himself by saying it's "For the Good of Redemption."

He's Dick's new partner and Kay's former partner, want to assume some sort of criminal connection feel free to do so-but very few people know that the "Hawk" is dirty. This IS Departed in the 20s okay. Replies from calledthehawk]

[Post this, Clint has a few things to say.

They're not good. That should be obvious because he's changed into a purple flack vest and looks like something out of a superhero comic. What should be the biggest clue however is an impressive bow and a set of arrows that are slung over his shoulder.

The entire outfit is complete with a pair of dark red sunglasses.]

I understand that people have been keeping things from me. People from my world.

You know who you are. I need to know what you know.

[Now is implied. Heavily. The hand tightens on his bow and he turns the feed off.]


[Desperate locked Private to Natasha.]

[Clint doesn't take off the sunglasses. His voice is monotone.]

...Fury's dead.

[No point in beating around the bush.]

A lot of people are dead and apparently it's my fault. [the monotone cracks.]

So much for having a warden friend on board. I'm pretty sure I'm going to spend the rest of eternity trying to kill the bastard even when they take away my weapons.

[he sends that and sits on one of the beds in his room with his head in his hands trying to bury all of the emotion that he has in him.]