Triskelion Clean-Up Duties

October 20, 2018:

Clint Barton and Shulkie are helping clean up at the Triskelion after the demon attack

Triskelion

SHIELD HQ, the Triskelion, after the demon attack

Characters

NPCs: Various SHIELD agents

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Outside of the SHIELD headquarters at least some semblance of normalcy has returned. Ever important, the imagery presented. The external damage has been seen to, the parking lot redoubled with security, and the main entryways are clear making it seem like business as usual… But within the halls and the depths of the Triskelion it's recovering, though some of its halls are still dark and there is debris scattered through the areas that were hardest hit.
A few levels below there is the crunch and crackle of heavy materials shifting, the load bearing columns being reinforced by heavy hydraulics that hiss and shift with the efforts of the clean up crew nearby. For some of the repair teams it's primarily this sort of recovery…
But for others, such as Clint Barton, they're tasked with something else than perhaps heavy lifting. He's moving through the halls, frowning all the while even as he holds out before him a pair of old twigs of some kind that seem to be smouldering, their ends leaving a faint trail of smoke as he walks and holds them out before him as if they were snakes that might lash back and bite him at any moment.

Everyone has their niche. For a certain green goddess, that happens to be heavy lifting. Considering how many load bearing walls are needing repair, she is a great choice for helping to heft things into place while the hydraulic jacks are put to work. Once they take over, she moves to the next area.
She's wearing jeans and her white and purple one-piece costume. Not that the costume is white anymore. Maybe the Black Widow had the right idea with her color choices. It would help hide the dirt better. Shulkie needed to see about a change or at least getting an official SHIELD uniform that they would launder for her. They did have laundry service, she assumed. If not, they needed to get it.
As she released the wall gently onto the pair of jacks, she made sure they would hold before she turned away. Just in time to see Clint walking toward he with a smoldering stick. "Admittedly, I know that some people will smoke anything but not sure you should be doing it /in/ the Triskelion where they probably wouldn't approve."

"Don't quit your law firm for the comedy club yet, Walters." Clint Barton continues to step down that hall, still looking terribly put upon by the fact that he's holding out these smoking bits of old wood with a rather elaborate odour that seems to follow with him. "I'm doing this under orders." He pauses as he tilts his head and looks sidelong at her, taking a moment to check his watch as he twists his wrist up and outwards.
Scowling he waggles one of the sticks, causing a faint grey worm of smoke to twist forth from it. "The good people of WAND put me up to this, something to do with widdershins or setting a base line for their efforts which…" He lowers his voice as he glances over his shoulder. "I'd be inclined to call hooey. But yeah. Demons."
He takes a deep breath, scowls, then eyes her work as well as the state she's in. "Been busy at it for a while?"

"So your job is to walk around with smoking sticks. It isn't sage. That would make sense to me." Shulkie takes a step over to be in conversational distance as she eyes the sticks, trying to figure out what they might really be.
At the comment about being busy, she glances down at her smudged costume and gives a shrug. "What can I say? It goes faster if they have someone who can pick up the steel beams and hold them in place instead of having to try to finagle them. Wasn't quite what I thought I'd be doing as a SHIELD consultant but you do what you can." She glances around at the hall they are in, at all the damage that had been done. "Were you here when it happened?"

Shaking his head as he keeps his eyes on the military wrist watch, his head tilted to the side and his brow furrowed. He holds those sticks out as if the things might dare to burst into flames at any moment even as he watches the time pass. But then he answers her sidelong out of the corner of his mouth, "Was out on a patrol helping a few teams transition when I got the call. Made my way back here but by the time I got back…" He looks up, blue eyes drifting about the hallway as if looking at the entirety of the Triskelion…
"Well, it was all over except the recovery." Then the right moment seems to pass as the watch ticks over the minute mark and he extinguishes the sticks with his fingertips, the small embers fizzling out with faint hisses. "You're lucky." He shakes the twigs, as if trying to make sure they won't reignite before he stalks over to the side towards one of the garbage bins.
"You missed all the slime." He says with a sage nod as he leans over the bin and finds a bottle that he sticks the ends of the sticks into, just in case. "Was a mess." For a moment there's a furrow to his brow, a thought ghosting over his features that he doesn't voice.

"I found out about it when the press started blaring the story all over the news," Shulkie admits as she watches with interest how he is finishing up with his job of smoking up the place. Curiosity is about to kill her but she isn't sure that Clint will be the one to answer the questions. He didn't seem to be well informed about what his task was either.
"Remind me to visit WAND before I leave today," she adds before continuing. "So we are talking demons like have been all over the city? I've been out dealing with them daily as much as I can." Then something sinks in.
"Slime?"

"Yeah, though these were apparently more… vicious." He looks back towards her, "I get the vibe they might've been guided or led more than most of those others running around out and about." Clint's brow remains furrowed for a bit as he shakes his head. Then his eyebrows rise as if he were exasperated as he tells her about, yes, the slime. "Lot of nastiness in the front area, I ducked having to deal with that. Rank hath its privilege and all that."
He takes a deep breath and folds his thick arms over his chest even as he looks at the recovery team. A hand is lifted in greeting when one of the other workers gives him a nod even though he's distracting their star heavy lifter.
For a time it looks like he's got that distant gaze going for him, thoughts hazed nd far off. But then he looks back and says with a wry half-smile as if trying to banish the horrors of late as he shifts the point of the discussion. "Ya know, if you need to clean up you don't have to run back to the Hulk Cave. My quarters are just down thattaway." He gestures with a small nod and a half-smirk.

More vicious. Led. Focused attack. This was unlike the random beasties otuside. Instead, this was a concentrated attack on SHIELD for some reason. Which means whoever is controlling them thinks that SHIELD, or the people within, are a threat to their end game.
The question is who and what?
At his suggestion, she glances down the hall like there will be a neon sign with the words "Clint's Quarters - Vacancy" hanging up and pointing to the doorway. No such sign. Maybe she should get one installed for him for amusement sake. Would Fury let her do that? "I have an apartment, not a cave," she points out with a little sniff of mock annoyance. "And a shower that is tall enough to hit above boob level. Can you say the same? And I mean the level of mine, not your man boobs."

A snort, "Moobs." He corrects She Hulk's word choice but he shakes his head, "To be fair it'd probably not be too hugely comfortable." He waves a hand to the side, "Still." His lip twists, "It's there." But that's as far as he advances the offer, perhaps a hint of flirtation there but lightly offered and perhaps in some ways to cause some of the other workers around to smirk. Sure SHIELD is a fairly stern and serious agency, but Barton tends to liven things up in his own way.
His brow then returns to that mild look of being perplexed when he seems to recall something as he asks her, "You didn't happen to hang around with any other magical people or anything lately?" He asks as if out of nowhere. But then he explains, "The WAND people told me to be careful in contact with other sources of magical energy after I did my little…" He turns and waves at the garbage bin, "Stroll around the HQ."
He looks at her, "You might be filled with magic cooties or something. That wasn't what they said, per se, but it's close."

"I also don't have a duffle bag with a change of clothes in it and I'm pretty sure anything of yours would be a little too tight. Unless I just let you go do my laundry while I waited in there." Shulkie doesn't elaborate. She's pretty sure his mind will handle it all by itself.
At the look of perplexity, she tilts her head to the side as she waits for it. Then the magic cooties are brought up. Which makes her laugh before she can stop herself. "Only things I've been around magical are the demons I've been beating up out on the streets. Which may indeed be the carriers of Magic Cooties. Is that a technical term or more something they just use for specialty in their field?"

"More my own thing." He gestures to the side as he steps to the side, "Don't let me interfere with your heavy lifting. I'll just stay over here…" He says this as he steps over to one of the saw horses that support several long boards against one wall where some tools are left for the recovery effort. "And supervise. One of my specialties."
He crosses his arms over his chest and gets a half-smirk as he waves a hand at her, as if giving permission for her to continue. "It's right there on my dossier. Team leader. Exceptional talent." Clint's lip twists again as he offers this insight into his record that may or may not exist. "Along with all sorts of terribly flattering and entirely true statements and declarations."
Of course this doesn't last long as this much bravado from the archer causes one of the other agents nearby to pipe up as he steps past, reaching to grab a spanner. "Sure, also says he's super modest too."
"The modestest." Clint replies with a nod.

"Soooo, this is the one you wrote yourself so you could show your parents? Because I'm betting that isn't the one SHIELD wrote. The records I've seen have been drier than some counties in Georgia." When the agent adds the modest comment, she has to smirk and shake her head. "Took the words right out of my mouth."
She looks back to Clint and his relaxed position. "With those biceps, you could be helping with some of this lifting. At least the sheet rock and stuff. It's light and you won't break a nail, I promise."
She does glance over to the crew she'd been working with to find them waiting quietly near the next beam that needed to be lifted, a few knowing smiles on their faces. "Course, if your ego is bigger than those biceps, I'll understand you passing on the offer."
She walks over, grabs the beam and hefts the end of it.
Eyes widening a little as Clint shoots a /look/ after the scruffy-looking grinning agent who just casually jabbed at him about his modesty. But then the archer looks back towards She-Hulk and replies, "What, these?" He gestures towards the aforementioned biceps and then waves off her compliment of a kind as if it were nothing. "Implants, I try not to lift weights. Those things are heavy."
With that said, however, he does smile crookedly as she makes her way to that beam and hefts it without seemingly any trouble at all. He splays his hands, fingers wide as if holding off any offense he may be giving as he says, "In any case, I wouldn't want to step on your toes. One moment here you are doing what you can, and then the next I show you up and suddenly you're bereft of any feeling of usefulness."
He refolds his arms over his chest and smirks as he looks away, shifting his weight again casually as he leans against the wall. "Far be it from me to rob SHIELD of a passingly somewhat useful agent in her element."

The reponse to that is a snort and a correction. "Consultant. Not an agent. I have a job already and I figure they realize they won't pay as well as that. And there is a lot less explosions and people trying to kill me. Kind of a bonus to stay in my current field."
As the agents move to start getting the jacks in place, she walks brings her other hand up and lifts the beam. Then it is shifted, brought up above her head and she moves to the hole where it had once supported the wall. She wedges it into place as the agents begin the hurried task of moving the debris out of the way since she now is supporting it all with that beam. She watches Clint as they work, hands up above her head as she plays jack. Her tone is still conversational, despite the stress of holding that much weight.
"Implants? So you are one of those guys who got the washboard stomach and the tight little tooshie from some crazy doctor?"

"I'll never tell," Is Clint's response as he continues to look off down the hallway for a moment, brow furrowing as he sees a group of WAND agents moving down the way. His brow knits as he sees them using some of the twigs he was toting around and for some reason that makes him a touch curious, but he doesn't voice that curiousity. Not yet at least. He turns back towards her as his eyes lift to watch the crew get the debris clear, then the jacks in place.
"I mean," He crinkles his nose and tosses the jibe sidelong her way, "Not all of us can be gifted a bod ready for swim suit season just by a heapin' helpin' of gamma rays." He then sniffs affectedly, as if belittling the fortune that brought her to such a place.
Of course, that's when Agent Mitchel pipes up again. "Think that's a good idea, Barton? Giving guff to the green gal rage monster kin?"

"So I have to find out the old fashioned way?" She-Hulk returns as they get the jacks into place. She waits until the signal then lowers the beam down atop them carefully. When she is certain they are supporting the weight, she releases fully and steps out of the way. "I think that's most of the beams for this floor. Are there others where I'll be needed?" she asks the team leader.
She walks over to mimic Clint's posture leaning against the wall, crossing her arms. "He knows I'm not prone to the epic anger management issues of the big green guy. And I'll have you know, I had a great beach bod before the gamma radiation. I lived on the beaches in L.A. anytime I got the chance out of school."

With a smirk that reaches his eyes, Clint looks over sidelong at her and then up towards the green irises that meet his blue ones. Then, with such casual aplomb he tells her. "Citation needed." To which Agent Mitchel snorts and casually shoves Barton's shoulder with one hand before he heads back to start to shift the debris out of the way.
"Alright, I should get back to my side of things. If I leave those WAND guys alone for too long they start pulling out the Ouija Boards and then nothing gets done for hours." He lifts a hand to the clean up team, "See you guys later."
Then towards Jen he lifts a hand as well, "Nice chatting with you, Walters. And if you're feeling ambitious, my office is down D13. Shower's in the side room. Knock yourself out." He'll turn then and start to head back down the hall at that point.

As the WAND folks show up with more smoking sticks, Shulkie gives a shake of her head. "If they pull out the boards, break them over their heads. We don't need them accidentally summoning more demons. Speaking of, how do we know they aren't responsible for these things gettin inside by accident? Too much Latin and that stuff could happen, y'know."
With that, she turns and heads over to the team leader, taking note of the locations he mentions that will need more help.

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