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» [IP] How'd I get so faded? [OOT/INVITES]
NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Jan 29 2017, 10:55 PM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
TWENTY-SIX
ASSASSIN
NATASHA is Offline


don't
know a thing about you
Budapest didn't have the fondest memories as far as Natasha was concerned. She had executed a great many missions there, but there was only one that she remembered as if it had occurred only yesterday. Not because it had been a thrilling excursion or a new level of extreme that she had had yet to taste...

Budapest was a mistake. An error. A flaw. A regret. A lapse in judgement. A distraction that had cost more than anyone should have ever had to pay.

All Natasha had been required to do was to place a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device underneath the Black SUV, license plate FKU-915. An assassination of a dirty American government official doing illegal business in Budapest. She had tracked the vehicle down as it parked alongside the street. Natasha hadn't taken notice to the fact that it had parked in front of a second black SUV, different license plate. Perhaps had she been paying closer attention to her surroundings, she would have tagged the correct vehicle.

Four dead a few miles away from the very street where Natasha had attached the tilt fuse to the underside of the car. Regular bumping and dipping that came with driving over a terrain caused the tilt fuse to jerk accordingly, resulting in the planned explosion on the wrong vehicle, instantly killing a man in his early thirties, his wife in her late twenties and their two children. A boy, age four - and a girl, age two.

She didn't speak of it, not ever, yet everyone that requested her services knew of what lingered on her file without her having to say a word. So why revisit the one place Natasha could erase from her past? She couldn't answer that. Perhaps because it was the only place that had a memory that tugged on whatever humanity she may or may not have? Maybe because this was the only connection to any identity she might still have left? It was impossible to know for sure.

The hotel Natasha had chosen was hardly worthy of the two stars it claimed, but the seedier, the harder it would be for someone - like Barton - to track her down, or so she hoped. She had compromised everything by leaving New Orleans after her failed attempt to assassinate Clint; the Division hadn't authorized her to flee the country which meant they were officially dealing with a rogue agent, as far as they were concerned.

Natasha had tried to smooth that assumption over by making contact. Ensuring she was protecting her cover by staging that attack at Stark Industries so that Clint wouldn't connect Natalie Rushman's stab wound to the stab wound of the woman that had tried to kill him. She had evaded his attempts to look into this Natalie Rushman by using Tony and his protective paternal instincts to her advantage. She had even fed a pretty white lie to the Starks and to Bruce, claiming she had an ill family member in Russia that was requesting to see her one last time.

It'd be easier that way, to break off those connections with a white lie. To leave that alias behind and hide until she could be positive no one was after her.

The door to her hotel room was silent as it opened; she couldn't hear it but the redhead could feel the colder air from the drafting hallway against the back of her neck. Given she had told the Division exactly where she would be - a leap of faith for her, and a sign of trust as far as they were concerned - she didn't think they'd have sent an agent to try and off her quite yet. Not until they were certain that their Black Widow had truly gone rogue.

That left only one person that could possibly have been keeping a close enough eye on her to know her next move. The man that had stabbed her and left her for dead. The man she had shot and left for dead.

She was healing - much as he still surely was - but she felt a hell of a lot better than she had been when he was pulling his knife out of her side. Her green eyes on the Glock 22 that was nestled between one of her black travel bags and the olive green bedspread that matched the hideous walls. She'd be quick to use it, he surely already knew that... but she doubted he came all this way just to kill her. He was a family man now, after all...

Natasha had read everything there was on Clint Barton when she had taken him on as a mission the week before. She knew that he was the eldest of three; that he took the physical abuse so his younger brother and sister wouldn't experience that pain. His parents died while driving under the influence; his brother killed later on in life. She knew of his time in the military with his younger sister... she even knew of his mild case of dyslexia.

She was always quick on her feet when it came to sarcasm or humour; the small smirk on her face always a telltale sign that she had something in mind, though it wasn't a smirk he'd be able to see with her back still turned to him. "A dyslexic man walks into a bra..."

--------------------
i saw scars upon her, my brokenhearted lover
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CLINT BARTON
 Posted: Jan 30 2017, 09:44 PM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
Thirty Two
Agent
HAWKEYE is Offline














Clint lounged easily in the chair that sat in the run down hotel room, feet kicked up on the small table as he stared into the back of the woman he had been waiting for. He couldn’t say that it was every day that he traveled half way across the world to meet a woman. Certainly not one that just recently tried to kill him.

He had been lucky that he had been able to stumble his way home that night without dying. Of course he had always had the uncanny ability to keep holding on even when he should have been dead. And thanks to a last minute surgery on his kitchen table by his best friend, Clint was feeling almost as good as new. Almost. Anyone who ever got stitched could tell you that being fixed up hurts almost as much as the wound that was given to you.

And since he had woken up from being fixed up, he had turn his sights to finding the identity of the woman who had tried to kill him. Easier said than done, considering all he had was a visual but no name attached. Usually that would lead to dead ends and frustration, except that very same day something strange happened.

The exact day that Clint had almost been assassinated, a woman who worked at Stark Industries had been stabbed and mugged in the parking garage. Stabbed in the exact same location that Clint had stabbed the woman trying to kill him. What he found more funny was that the description of the woman who attacked the Personal Assistant, sounded just like who attacked Clint.

Which had left Clint to do some digging. It hadn’t been easy to get the information, Stark industries went into over protective hyper mode since the attack. But Clint had been determined. And that was how he found Natalie Rushman.
Personal assistant to Pepper Pots, Natalie had been working there for over a year now, integrating with everyone else who worked in the company. If you asked anyone at SI they would never give but highest praise for her work ethic. Getting close to the Starks had been easy when you work closely with them, but there was one other person that she was close to.

Bruce Banner was a scientist at SI, best friend to Tony Stark, and Natalie Rushman’s boyfriend. Clint had done some digging , calling in favors from a few of his former, less legal contacts to get some buried information on the good doctor. He knew all about the Doctor’s old work with the government, and then suddenly he disappeared for ten years, coming back and staying only when getting a job at SI.

It made Clint question why someone like her, would do all this for a cover up. Become friends with someone, fall in love with someone, date them all if it was in the name of some higher job. He didn’t think that it was. He thought that this was the real person shining through the cracks that she didn’t even know were there.

He knew many things about Natalie now, more than most people in her life probably did. But one thing he didn’t know was that she had a sense of humor. Yet there he was letting out a surprised laugh at her well played joke. Obviously she had been doing her own research on him, finding out about his dyslexia, she must of dug pretty deep if she was able to uncover that gem.

”I hope he got a decent size drink at least.” he joked back lightly, playing up his own dyslexia as well. He kept his ease clear for when she decided it was time to turn around and look at him. It was obvious the marksman wasn’t there to kill her, or he would of sniped her from a few buildings down. No. Clint was here to do a much more difficult task then kill the assassin before him.

He bobbed his foot a little restlessly as he waiting a few seconds more ” You gonna turn around soon? You and I both know I’m not here to kill you, and how am I supposed to know if my own jokes land if I can’t see your face?”




--------------------
Bird With a Broken Wing,

It's so deathly dark in the alleyway, And a bleeding heart makes you easy prey. I would run and hide for the afternoon, With the butterfly in the panic room. Though I won't be missed, I would say it's time, For a different twist in the story line. It feels like I'm a lone survivor, Forgotten in a dark and deadly world. And on my own I walk alone, To see the sun again I'd give anything. But life demands a final chapter, A story that we all must leave behind.It's do or die, and this is mine.
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NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Feb 5 2017, 09:31 PM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
TWENTY-SIX
ASSASSIN
NATASHA is Offline


don't
know a thing about you
There were few instances in which Natasha truly found herself caught off guard when so much of her time centered around planning every step she took - and that was hardly an exaggeration. She thought she had made a clean escape; she had said her goodbyes to those that had deserved them and had painted over any loose end with a pretty little lie of a sick family member in another country overseas.

It was hard leaving an alias behind - something Natasha had never admitted to anyone before - but this one was perhaps the most difficult to date. Leaving behind the first person she had grown physically intimate with (outside of mission-related necessity) in years. Leaving behind a job (however fake) she had grown accustomed to. Leaving behind the few allies she had made along the way... Grieving a loss meant weakness, however. Natasha made no room and no allowances for weaknesses.

They would forget about her and, eventually, they would move on. As would she.

At least that was what she had been telling herself up until this very moment.

His little quip in reply to her joke had her raising an appreciative eyebrow, one he wouldn't see given she remained still with her back turned to him. They had exchanged a few jokes during her attempt to remove him from the picture altogether; she hated to admit that she saw a lot of herself in the younger marksman... That wouldn't necessarily be enough to keep him alive of course, but that was beside the point.

What was truly curious to Natasha was why this man - who had proven himself more than capable of landing a few blows of his own - hadn't eliminated her from the game now that he had the chance. He obviously had the upper hand; he had caught her off guard and had managed to sneak up on her while her back was turned. She had let her guard down; she had thought herself to be safe, far away from the mess she was running from. She had skipped countries, oceans and continents to put some distance between herself and her failures, after all.

Her eyes narrowed towards the wall she faced as he asked if she was going to turn around soon; he was bold, she'd give him that... He seemed to be sure of himself in a way that had Natasha feeling the slightest bit uneasy; he felt as though he had control of the situation and that wasn't something that Natasha could ever allow.

She was quick - hopefully quicker than Barton was expecting her to move - as she grabbed the gun that had been partially tucked beneath her black travel bag. Her body spinning around as both hands held the weapon at an arm's length away from her body and pointed directly at the man sitting in the chair that was pressed into the corner of her hotel room.

"Your jokes need about as much work as your aim does." It was too easy to rub him the wrong way; he knew he had better aim than most people - even that wasn't giving him enough credit - but Natasha felt she knew she was better which gave her the right to nitpick the other man's claimed talents. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you through the wall behind you and call it a day." Because she could - she would. It'd be exactly what the Division would want her to do and killing Barton right here and right now would definitely put her back in the good graces of her most recent employer...

--------------------
i saw scars upon her, my brokenhearted lover
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CLINT BARTON
 Posted: Mar 9 2017, 03:40 AM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
Thirty Two
Agent
HAWKEYE is Offline














There was no logical reason for Clint Barton to be in the hotel room right then and there. By all logic he would of come here with a sniper rifle and fired the kill shot two buildings away. He would of packed up his supplies, gone home to his girlfriend, sister and best friend and tried to sleep at night knowing that he did what he had to, in order to keep them safe.

By all logic the marksman would kill Natasha Romanoff.

But he wasn’t there because of logic. Instead Clint had followed his gut feeling that had him traveling half way around the world to have a conversation with the assassin that had just tried to kill him. His gut had told him that this was not the life that she wanted anymore, that there was more to her then she even recognized. Because he had seen it in himself.

He had once been a man who didn’t care about what was good or bad, he cared about getting what he wanted. If that had meant someone needed to be hurt so he could get it, he would. Steal, hurt , even kill, it hadn’t mattered to him. Till the morning he couldn’t even face his reflection in the mirror because it disgusted him too much to know what he had become. That he had turned into the very men he spent so much time into hunting.

She might not say it to anyone or herself, but Clint was betting that Natasha was the same as he once was. He had done extensive research into her. He knew all about her cover story, about how she got close to the Starks, was dating Doctor Banner, how she was even planning their baby shower. While some might say it was her just being a good spy, Clint knew better. You could be a good spy without getting that close to people.

Clint remained calm and seated as he watched her move in a lightning fast move till she was turned around at him with a gun aimed at his figure. He raised an eyebrow as he watched her, but made no attempt to go for his own weapons that he had hidden on his body. He hadn’t brought them here to use on her, instead to use on anyone who was coming after her that got in his way. Luckily he hadn’t had to use them yet, but it never hurt to be prepared.

“Glad to see that my jokes don’t need any work then. “ His grin was easy going and cocky. There was very few things that Clint bragged about seriously, most of it was all jokes and laughter. But when it came to being a marksman, Clint knew that he was the best. He never missed a shot, on anything. Never missed a paper ball in a basket, never missed in darts, and especially never missed in weaponry. It had made him special forces for the military before he left after the “death” of his sister.

“Trust me trashing a hotel room is not worth it. Do you know how much they charge you for cleaning on rooms? Better to save the fee and bullet for someone you actually want to shoot in the first place. “ If Natasha had wanted to shoot him , she would have the moment that she grabbed the gun, ending him before the conversation started. Instead she spoke back…which gave Clint hope that this was the right choice after all.

Clint moved positions , till he was more at ease on the chair, making sure that both of his hands were still in eye sight of her the whole time that he shifted. ” I’m here because I want you to come back to New Orleans with me.” He gave her another grin ”I want you to join our side. And I think you want to , too.”



--------------------
Bird With a Broken Wing,

It's so deathly dark in the alleyway, And a bleeding heart makes you easy prey. I would run and hide for the afternoon, With the butterfly in the panic room. Though I won't be missed, I would say it's time, For a different twist in the story line. It feels like I'm a lone survivor, Forgotten in a dark and deadly world. And on my own I walk alone, To see the sun again I'd give anything. But life demands a final chapter, A story that we all must leave behind.It's do or die, and this is mine.
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^
NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Jun 2 2017, 11:27 PM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
TWENTY-SIX
ASSASSIN
NATASHA is Offline


don't
know a thing about you
Natasha didn't necessarily view death the same way others did. It had been embedded in her brain that death was a meaningless end to a meaningless journey; nobody deserved the life that they were gifted unless they did great things. Natasha was someone who had been trained to do great things which negated any guilt she should have been feeling any time she pulled the trigger (metaphorically or otherwise) and ended someone's life.

There was a lingering fear that if she ever decided to abandon all she knew and all she had been trained to know - if she ever tapped into that tiny spark of humanity that she still had left - the waves of guilt would drown her and extinguish any spark she had left. Perhaps that was why she was always moving; settling down somewhere for too long was too great a risk. Natasha had always known her limits and had always known what risks were too great for even someone like her. She didn't have a death wish, after all...

Barton was a failed mission; he had seen just how damn close he had come to death caused by her hands and yet he braved the fine lines that kept her concealed from him and anyone else she had crossed in such ways. She was a ghost; someone who wasn't meant to be seen, heard... only felt. To follow her was to sign your own death certificate simply because Natasha couldn't risk someone learning more about her than she knew about herself. She couldn't risk covers and aliases being blown when she had already risked far too much.

The redhead had half-expected Clint to stand to his feet and pull out any weapon he may have had hidden on his body - much as Natasha had done - but he remained seated. One eyebrow arched in what seemed to be amusement as she pointed her gun at the center of his forehead. She didn't shoot, however; her finger hovered over the trigger as her eyes stayed locked on his. She had absolutely no idea what game he was trying to play, but she knew she'd find her way to the bottom of it one way or another.

Natasha had always been a recluse; she had been trained to never have to rely on anyone but herself. Her mind, her instincts, her body... She required nothing more and nothing less. That wasn't to say that there weren't times when Natasha had relied on a partner or a colleague - there most certainly had been, more so with 'employers' like the Division - but at the end of the day, Natasha worked alone and looked out only for herself.

The redhead kept her green eyes on the male before her, more so as he began to change positions so that he was more at ease in the chair he continued to occupy. Natasha was quite aware of the fact that he was intentionally keeping his hands where she could see them: off and away from any weapon he was likely carrying on his body.

"I’m here because I want you to come back to New Orleans with me."

If Natasha hadn't been half-convinced she was going to need to battle her way out of this situation, she might have had more of a sense of humour. She might have made a joke or outright laughed when he informed her that he wanted her to join him on his journey back to new Orleans so that she could join his side of the fight against the Division.

"You realize this is the worst attempt at trapping me I've ever seen, right? Do you really think I'm going to fall for this, skip back to New Orleans hand-in-hand with you and be naive enough to not expect you, Steve and Tony to stab me in the back the first chance you all get?"

She'd deserve it; they deserved to be able to take that cheap shot at her after all she had done to them and all of the many things she had participated in. Torturing Steve's fiancé, spying on Tony and his wife, almost killing Clint...

"If you want to take me out, this is your chance to at least try. If not, I'll let you walk out of here with all of your limbs still attached to your body."

--------------------
i saw scars upon her, my brokenhearted lover
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CLINT BARTON
 Posted: Jun 7 2017, 11:50 PM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
Thirty Two
Agent
HAWKEYE is Offline














Clint let out a loud sigh and rolled his eyes as Natasha decided not believe him when he said that he was there to bring her back. He just kept starring at her and let her keep talking and trying to figure him out. Any other person , Clint would of played along for a joke before just taking them down and continuing on with the mission that he set out for. But Natasha wasn't in the right mindset to be played around with.

He could understand why she was wary of him. He did just stab her and try and kill her a week ago. Granted he did it cause if he let her walk away from their fight she was going to come after everyone he loved. But that was just another reason for her to not trust him. Truth be told, Clint really didn't hold too much of a grudge against her (though he would use the shooting him thing to get advantage one day), but he would of done the same as her if ordered by the people who controlled his life.

The real question was why he was taking the risk that he was coming there today. Why did he even bother coming across the world to talk to her, when he could of just let her own superiors hunt her down and kill her. He wouldn't have to worry about her coming after Kamila or Steve that way... wouldn't have to watch where he turned for the next few years. She'd be gone and he could move on.

In the past he would of done just that. And maybe even now, if it was anyone else other than Natasha that had fought against him he might still of done that. But when he went against her he had seen something in her, that something had kept him awake at night making him think. So instead of just letting someone kill her off, he had come here to try and talk her into changing sides.

"Why the hell would I go through all this trouble just to trap you? You and I both know that I'm good enough to snip you from three blocks away and no one would even notice till room service came. I know my skills are on record from my military days in special forces, And that wasn't even my best work." He gave her a bland look from across the room "I had the upperhand this time, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead."

Clint turned that bland look into a smile once more "Now when you come back with me, I can't say that Tony won't go for you...but Steve and I are very close, the guy lives with me after all, and I know he wont kill you. Be angry...maybe. But since he understands better then anyone our lives are not always in our own control. "

The marksman leaned forward till his arms were resting on his knees looking Natasha directly in the eyes as he continued to talk. "I'm going to be real here with you Natasha, I'm not the best person for this. I can't make speeches that can inspire armies , or show that the world can be just and right if we work real hard at it." He shrugged his shoulders " I'm not really that guy...and I don't really believe the latter. I think no matter how hard we try the world is a fucked up place, and always will be a fucked up place."

He had learned that long ago hadn't he? When his abusive parents beat him every night. Or when the parents who had adopted him and siblings, taught him everything they knew, used him to be their personal theif and then killed his brother and left him for dead. Or how they were still out there while Clint waited for the day he could end them like they ended his brother. Or how his sister was alive and being tortured while the military he had worked to had lied to him and told him that she was dead.

" But I do believe that there are some people in this world are needed. Not just people like Steve, or Tony, who even on their bad days didn't really know they were doing bad, who are good guys." Clint turned his gaze out the window as he continued " The world needs us. You and me. Those who have been inside those hell holes that teach us to be the baddest of the bad. That control us no matter how hard we wish we were free. The world needs the people who have been on the wrong side, and know just how bad they could be. Us, who know how to stop them. Who want to stop them. "

In a very real moment Clint was very serious as he looked at Natasha once more. His fingers tapping restlessly on his knees as the speech went on "I think you got in to deep on this mission. You got close to people. Made friends. You fell in love. " the last one was said with more emphasis on the words " And I don't think you want to leave that. I don't think you want to leave Dr. Banner, who sitting back there waiting for you to come home. Who would tell you to be brave and do the right thing here...and come back with me. Help put an end to the monsters that took your life. Who stole your freedom. Become the person you want to be, not who they want you to become."



--------------------
Bird With a Broken Wing,

It's so deathly dark in the alleyway, And a bleeding heart makes you easy prey. I would run and hide for the afternoon, With the butterfly in the panic room. Though I won't be missed, I would say it's time, For a different twist in the story line. It feels like I'm a lone survivor, Forgotten in a dark and deadly world. And on my own I walk alone, To see the sun again I'd give anything. But life demands a final chapter, A story that we all must leave behind.It's do or die, and this is mine.
PMEmail
^
NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Jul 2 2017, 07:23 PM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
TWENTY-SIX
ASSASSIN
NATASHA is Offline


don't
know a thing about you
Natasha knew that Clint had a valid point: he was a trained marksman which meant he would have easily been able to snipe her from a mile away if those had been his wants or his orders. It was the fact that Natasha didn't know anything about him save for his statistics; she only received facts from the Division when he had been listed as her newest target. Facts didn't' include whether or not he was honest, truthful or loyal to the words he spoke to her, and the last thing Natasha wanted was to trust something just enough to have her on the receiving end of another knife or another bullet.

She was smarter than that.

The redhead wouldn't admit that he was right in saying that this time around, he had had the upper hand. She hadn't been as careful with her whereabouts as she could have been and she had left room for him to follow her. That was on her.

He was true, however, in stating that their lives weren't always their own. Natasha had been shaped into the perfect weapon decades ago; free will had been tossed out the door the day she had failed to escape - the day she had failed to fail.

After that, being controlled had been easier than forever living her life on the run, never knowing who she was running from and never knowing who she even was.

This would be doing just that: Natasha would officially be labelled a traitor to every person, and every division she had ever worked for. Her name would be sent to all of the beings she had worked for and it would be distributed among the assassins they had working for them. Natasha would never be able to spend a single day knowing she was safe...

Yet, she wouldn't die not knowing who she was, either. She would have the freedom to experience the things she had always had to place on the back burner. Discovering what her favourite things were... her favourite colour, her favourite music, her favourite foods... She would die with an identity which is more than the redroom had ever been able to give her.

As Clint continued on to talk about the mission she was currently running from, Natasha knew that, again, he was right. She had gone in thinking this was going to be exactly like any other mission she had ever carried out to the end, but it wasn't. She had made connections - the first connections she had made since her husband's death decades upon decades ago - even if she didn't want to admit that that was exactly what had happened.

The biggest connection she had made, of course, was Bruce Banner. Someone she had chosen to be playful with if only to keep herself occupied during the more quiet hours of her infiltration, but he had ended up being someone she had fallen in love with, even if she hadn't admitted that to herself as of yet. The words were easy to say, as she had said them a thousand times in the past. Using her charm, her looks and her body to lure men to their deaths... wasn't that how she had gotten her nickname?

Bruce was different.

Natasha was quiet for a few long moments. If she agreed, yes, she might be on the run from everyone she had ever worked for, but if she said no, wouldn't she still be on the run from those she had wronged? If she wasn't able to make things right by joining their fight and bringing the Division down once and for all, they'd want revenge, one way or another.

If this was a ploy to lower her guard and lure her back to her death... Maybe she had lived. Maybe the time she had spent in New Orleans with Bruce was enough of an identity to hold onto as her time ran out.

It would be alright with her if that was what she died holding onto. The moments they spent in his lab. The e-mails that had started their romance... That would be enough.

"The most I can offer you is the very little I know about the Division and their current projects; I wasn't high-ranking so I don't have every blueprint to everything they've been up to." Natasha was merely a weapon, not a mastermind behind the ins and outs, after all. "I know the layout of the structure and I know more about Ashley's case than any of you will be able to figure out on your own but, again, I don't have all the answers."

There would be some frustration with that, she was sure. Steve would be especially aggravated with the questions Natasha wasn't able to answer, but that was something she was going to have to deal with when the situation came about.

"Aside from that, I don't have any unique abilities like the Wicked Witch and her brother..." Natasha winced slightly at her small slip-up; she knew that Barton was romantically involved with the telekinetic girl, so she was going to have to mind the nicknames she had created for everyone. "But I can fight. I won't have access to the weapons that the Division gave me outside of what I have squirrelled away in my old apartment, so Tony might have to help me out there..." If he was able to trust her with anything he could get his hands on, that was...

--------------------
i saw scars upon her, my brokenhearted lover
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CLINT BARTON
 Posted: Aug 28 2017, 09:05 PM
Quote
METAHUMAN (TRAINED)
Thirty Two
Agent
HAWKEYE is Offline


breathe again beneath the flames
im a man that cant be tamed
Clint knew that when he got Natasha to agree to go back to New Orleans with him , he was going to have to do some explaining and talking to a few people back home. First was Kamila…who he needed to explain why he had to go and bring her back in the first place. And then to Steve…who above anyone had reason not to want the assassin back in town.

But he would do it. Because he truly believed that Natasha deserved to start a life where she was the one in control. Didn’t they all have some sort of connection to that same want and desire? They all had the experience of being trapped under someone else, forced to be something they weren’t. Now they had worked, and worked hard so they could live life the way they wanted. Why shouldn’t Natasha be able to do the same?

The truth of the matter was that Clint was reminded so much of himself when it came to Natasha. When he was a teenager he lived life much of the same way. Followed orders, stayed on the path, and did whatever was needed to complete the tasks his adopted parents gave him. It didn’t matter what it was, or who it was done to. If he was told to do it…he jumped to do so.

It took him years and a hard look down the barrel of a gun that he pointed at someone to realize it wasn’t what he wanted to be. He didn’t want to hurt innocent people, just to grow more in wealth. He wanted more from life than to just be a living weapon.

Clint knew deep down that Natasha wanted the same. He knew because of the life she built while undercover. There was no way, none that she did all that she had just because it was part of the job. He researched her…studied her and her time in New Orleans. She didn’t just build friendships and do baby shower’s because she was doing her job. She didn’t fall in love because Division told her to.

The marksman couldn’t help but smile as Natasha started to talk , because he knew that he wouldn’t be getting on that plane alone back home. Later down the road he would ask her what part made her rethink and turn around with him. But that could come later, for now he wasn’t going to push it.

” It doesn’t matter what you bring to the table, Natasha. This isn’t about that. “ He would be the first to admit that any information would be invaluable to them right now, but that wasn’t why he was there. It wouldn’t matter if she knew nothing about Division, he would still be right there trying to bring her back home.

”This is a chance for you to start living a life that you want. And if you don’t know what the life is…you can take your time finding what that is. And anything you give, will be more than we have. “ Since no matter how much research and time they put into finding Division they were out of luck when it came to finding any weakness.

Natasha’s remark about Kamila had him raising an eyebrow. Everyone, even strangers knew, if there was one thing he was serious about , it was his girlfriend. Judging by the small wince that the assassin had after the comment, she knew that she slipped there. “You wont be calling her wicked once you know her. “

Clint leaned back once more in his chair, feet going up on the table. ”Look , I’m the least super of all those super beings back home. I’m just a guy. Human. No special powers, no super speed, no healing. I got a bow and some arrows, and a gun if I’m out of options. I’m the most vulnerable, least protected, squishy person out there. Trust me, you’ll do fine. And you’ll love it. “ the grin on his face showed just how much he truly thought he was right about that…that Nat would end up loving that she came back with him.

” The real question is how are we going to get through security with our combined weapons….”
BY MITZI


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Bird With a Broken Wing,

It's so deathly dark in the alleyway, And a bleeding heart makes you easy prey. I would run and hide for the afternoon, With the butterfly in the panic room. Though I won't be missed, I would say it's time, For a different twist in the story line. It feels like I'm a lone survivor, Forgotten in a dark and deadly world. And on my own I walk alone, To see the sun again I'd give anything. But life demands a final chapter, A story that we all must leave behind.It's do or die, and this is mine.
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NATASHA ROMANOFF
 Posted: Oct 9 2017, 02:15 PM
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There was no denying just how uneasy this would surely be if Clint were to waltz back to the US with Natasha at his side. The very woman that had tried to take his life for no other reason than he was a thorn in the Division's side. They wanted the twins - one of which he was dating - and knew he wouldn't back down should others - like Steve - step up to protect both Pietro and Kamila from the Division's grasp.

She had enough enemies on a good day; the Division knew she had gone rogue by now and were surely sending other agents to deal with her situation. If she were to go back to America, she'd not only be dealing with them and the betrayal they were likely feeling from her clean escape, but with the likes of Steve and Kamila, for all she had done to them. That wasn't even factoring in Tony, Pepper and Bruce, all of which were surely feeling the same pang of betrayal.

No one was going to to trust her to fight their battles when they were knocked to the ground. No one was going to believe that she wanted to bring the Division down after all she had done for them and in their name. No one was going to trust their safety in Natasha's hands after the horrors she had inflicted on people like Ashley Winters and Clint Barton.

Was it worth the battle to prove to Clint's friends that she was trustworthy and was now wanting the same things they wanted? Was it worth the energy to battle through the Division, taking out as many of the evil hearts that thrived there as she could? They were the ones that had weaponized her; innocent people had died because of some of the things that Natasha had done for them. Children - three of them - had lost their lives during one of Natasha's missions that the Division had demanded of her. Children right here in Budapest, on that very block that her hotel rested upon. Three children that had climbed into the back of a car she had rigged with explosives in hopes of taking out their parents. Both of which she had had to gun down moments after the car exploded, as if watching their childrens' deaths weren't punishment enough for their crimes.

It was a memory that the Division had taken from her, and one they had activated through a single phone call in the airport as she had tried to leave the US behind. They wanted her to hurt. They wanted her to break, so they could have somewhat of a chance to take her own permanently. She was responsible for the death of three small, innocent children... Perhaps it was best that the Red Room had taken away her own ability to reproduce. Perhaps it was in the best interest of everyone if she waited here alone, at least until the Division agents came to terminate the weapon they had tried to control.

"Not everyone deserves a second chance; not all of us deserve a life after the things we've done." It wasn't right for people to merely forgive and forget the evils that another person had committed, simply because they wanted a new life without quite as much sin. Natasha couldn't ask for that, nor would she accept such an undeserving gift. "Three-hundred and seventeen. That's the number of lives I've taken; nobody that's caused that much destruction deserves what you're offering me."

And maybe that was okay. Maybe she could prevent the Division from taking more innocent lives by helping the man before her. By joining sides with he and his friends just long enough to bring down one of the many evils that still plagued this world. After that... well, she didn't have to accept the second chance he was believing her to be deserving of. She could die in battle and hope that that counted for something. It wouldn't erase all she had done, but it might mean something to someone, somewhere.

"I don't have much with me." There hadn't been a lot of time to pack, after all, and most of her weapons had been housed at the Division. "I'm more concerned about making it back to US soil before the Division unleashes a swarm of agents onto us. They knew I jumped ship the second I stepped foot into the airport back in New Orleans; if they haven't been trying to track me since then, I'd be surprised..."

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i saw scars upon her, my brokenhearted lover
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