ataraxion | third shot; voice

Entry tags:

third shot; voice

Whoever told Tony to sing Rolling in the Deep is getting an earful from me later. You know who you are. Next time, go with Styx. Or better yet, skip karaoke night altogether.

Coffee: lesson one. The stuff here? Two level scoops and a generous half. Only way it's palatable. That's my contribution. In exchange... I'm looking for a solid supply of canvas and some stiff packing materials. Takers will get coffee, or a serenade.

[At which point, listeners will hear the chorus of this as sung by a very drunk Tony Stark. THE BEEB.]

[100% encrypted to that Other Clint Barton (if you can hack this, your name is Tony Stark):]

I saw the rumor. I want to meet her.

[70% encrypted to Francis Barton]

Time's up.

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...You're welcome.

[He meant that. Call this having second thoughts about your maturity.]

[okay so he feels a little bad for that]

I'm serious. It just ... it's a lot to think about. That's all.

[because he's working with Clint Barton again and that is a nest of birds he thought he really wanted and now has no idea how to process]

So what now?

I'm going to try to set up a shooting range, if I can find somewhere to do it. Something portable.

Other than that, ears to the ground and eyes to the sky.

Bucky was looking for something like that a while back. He'd take to it, I think.

Eyes are always on the sky.

He indirectly gave me the idea.

It's a good idea. I don't want to slack on training just because we're on a spaceship.

Same. I'm used to putting in hours a day on this, and so far we've got nothing here.

Dad had me training every day since I could hold a bow. It feels wrong when I can't.

[goes quiet a moment, thinking]

When we get it set up, wanna train together?

[Stop. Mentioning. Your. Dad.]

Why not.

[he can't help it!]

If nothing else, it gives me a chance to see how good you are.

Kid. Don't get cocky.

I'm not. But if we're on a team together, I need to know your abilities. Strategy, right?

More like you're going to need someone to get you up to snuff. I don't care how many years you've practiced; I've practiced more.

[last time this came up, he did get cocky, and it didn't end well. so this time Francis just frowns, shrugging] That too.

I don't approve of kids having to kill. I want you to know that up front. I'm only teaching you technique.

[kill? really?] I don't. Well, robots don't count. That's not how I was taught. [even if his mom thought it would have been smarter]

You've never killed anyone?

Not unless you count robots.

I don't know if I would.

Then no, I haven't killed anyone. [he's left them to die, but never killed them himself]

I have. Don't forget that.

Don't worry. I won't.

I'll keep you informed.

Same.

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