1963-09-29 - Peculiar Professionals
Summary: A chance meeting by Hawkeye and Domino results in one mutant life being spared and several thugs winding up in seriously bad shape. Go team!
Related: None
Theme Song: None
clint domino 


"Stay on him, Delta." Across the radio waves the voice is heard, most people not able to discern it, though for Clint Barton it's in his ear and seems like it's nagging him just a smidge. He keeps walking down the sidewalk, wearing his grey hooded sweat shirt that proclaims him as 'Property of the Yankees.' As he reaches the corner he touches two fingers to the electronic earpiece and he sub-vocalizes. "No, I figured I'd go get a hot dog."

"Clear the comms, Delta." The voice on the other end is professional, unlike Barton. At least for now. But the SHIELD operative is still a little ticked. He keeps the required half a block distance from the target. This late at night nobody's really giving him a second glance, though if they keep hoofing it further on down the road they'll hit Mutant Town and then he might be a little bit out of place.

That target, for now, is moving amongst a group of men. Leather jacket, bandanas, some heavy boots. Uniforms are uniforms even between gangsters. This particular one is worn by an off-shoot of Satan's Saints. Big guys who thought the current regime were too progressive. So here they are on the outskirts of Mutant Town heading in.

Normally not a SHIELD thing, but there must be some reason why an asset like Barton's assigned to them. At least he thinks there has to be something else. Then again… this could be punishment for his last op that he horked up. He pauses for a moment if only to say, "Hnh," to himself.

*

It's been a very trying time for Domino. Now that she's actually living in the real world it feels even more like a hallucination than before. A lot of things have been changing, with them her very perception of reality.

There's this part of the city which people have kept pointing her to, she's not even sure why. 'Mutant Town.' Did every albino get lumped in with these mutants..? It isn't the color of her skin which ultimately brought her here, rather it had been the words of one mutant in particular. Maybe..it was time for her to look into the matter for herself. Try to figure out what the real score is.

Her first impression of the place has her feeling like she won't complain about the state of Hell's Kitchen again. Out there she can safely assume that everyone else is violent. Around here..everyone feels more other-worldly. She can't get a read on these people, she has no way of knowing what their motives are. It's a good way to keep her on edge, though at the same time it makes it difficult to truly see what the situation is. Too many unknowns. Too many secrets. This here is a foreign land.

*

As Hawkeye follows the group of men he's close enough to overhear some of their words. It's furtive, growling at times with the rumble of contention when they reach Mutant Town itself. A few gesture at one passerby, a tall kid with extra long arms.

"That one?"

"Nah, too normal."

"Normal?"

"Hey, you haven't seen many mutants, have ya?"

"Sure I have, got a few down south."

"Whatever. Look for one that's… I dunno. Angrier. Sharper."

Another gesture is made towards a passing mutant gal that has a frilled mane upon her head, like something reptilian. "That?"

"Yeah…"

With their target chosen, they head in the direction of the girl who is stepping towards a news stand and grabbing a candy bar off one of the racks.

Barton, for his part, has a faint grimace as he takes up a place leaning against a telephone pole. "You guys sure this is a snatch and grab?"

"Roger, Delta."

"Alright, but if this is something else I'm comin' back and kicking all yer all's asses."

"Clear the comms, Delta."

Yet even as Barton gets that clarification the cadre of bikers bracket the young mutant woman, one grasping her arm and starting to steer her away from the news stand while the others run inteference. Short sharp words are exchanged, too far away to be heard.

*

There are times where working alone is beneficial. Nobody's hanging off of Domino's side, nobody's barking orders into her ear… It's just her and the rest of the world. She operates at her own pace, goes where she wants to go, and hears quite a bit more due to a complete lack of outside interference.

Gang mentality isn't difficult to spot. When the group changes direction, alters their speed, she can tell something is going on. Something which can't be any good.

This is why she came out here, isn't it? This is what she had come here looking to see. Shit's going south and she's got a perfect opportunity to witness it all.

Her own pace becomes more brisk, not really gaining any ground on the group but keeping pace with them once they grab the woman and start hauling her away. If they're here to haul someone else away then they must have an exit strategy. Some sort of vehicle nearby, with enough discrete seating for all of them. Total sucker bet that they've got a van part close.

*

"What the hell!" The frilled woman starts to yank against the men who are grabbing her and starting to pull her off. It's towards the far wall and a turn around the corner that she's aimed at, her feet dragging as she tries to build up some leverage to resist, but the men are having none of it. She's partially picked up by the elbows and then /shoved/ into the alleyway, chased by the voice of the guy working the news stand. "What're you guys doin'!"

But they have her now out of direct view, and Hawkeye step up the pace close enough for perhaps one or the both of them to hear the words from the leader's mouth. "Alright, alright. Get her behind the dumpster, we do her here."

One of the bikers, a scar-faced man with shades asks, "You sure? This gonna send the right message?"

"By the time we're through with her, fuck yeah." The boss says as he pulls a pistol and chambers a round.

Hawkeye, though, scowls as he picks up the pace. Walking past a homeless man leaning against a nearby wall, he steals the man's beer bottle and murmurs a quick apology before he replies on the comms, "Yeah, Control this ain't a smash and grab."

"Hold poisition, Delta. Repeat, hold position."

"Got some interference, Control." And with that he pulls the earpiece free even as he pours some of the… rather unpleasant contents of that beer bottle on himself, spilling it over the front of his sweatshirt. He rounds the corner of the alleyway, staggering and now smelling like a brewery as he slurs his words, "Heeeey, that you Phillip? What're you doin' hidin' back here, man…"

*

There's another sound that's been etched into Domino's memory, the sound of a semiautomatic pistol being chambered. This is definitely not going to go well. It also isn't her fight. She has no reason to get involved, nothing invested in this. It wouldn't change anything for her whether that lady lives or dies today.

Except that there's this nagging little thought in the back of her mind, one which didn't used to be there… The very seed of what could be a conscience has already begun to take root. The real world is a different place. One where she gets to make her own decisions.

"Goddammit," she mutters while further picking up the pace.

She might have gotten there in time to do something about this had someone else not just done the same thing. The hell, what's some drunk ass doing here? And why didn't she notice him a moment ago?

A clear mind would be running through the details. She didn't 'miss' anything, here is an element which was unexpectedly added. Unfortunately, her mind is already caught up with a murder just seconds away from being carried out.

Suddenly she's staring at this drunk guy, no longer certain of how to proceed. Stay back and do nothing..? It might not be enough for the woman now under the gun. Too many unknown variables in play, dammit!

*

"Do him too?" One of the gang members rounds and holds up his hands, at least to block off Hawkeye's approach.

"Nah, he's normal, just the mutant. Gotta remember the right message." The man with the gun gestures with the barrel in Clint' direction absently. "Throw him outta here."

The man in front of Barton make a grab for the seemingly inebriated fellow. "Alright buddy, blow this pop stand. It don't concern you."

But Hawkeye's voice lifts as he shouts, "Phillip! Man fuck you, Phillip! You owe me twenny bucks!" He surges forward, causing the big guy in front of him to grab him by the shoulders.

"Calm down, buddy. Shit. Look, I said…" /CRASH!/ /AAAHHH!/ The man screams as the bottle shatters in his face sending him reeling, and as quick as that the drunk guy isn't really that drunk. He's darted forwards and is grappling with one of the other gang members while a second menaces him from behind. The guy with the pistol rounds and tries to draw a bead on him. But all of this ruckus… it at least gives the girl who had been thrown down the alleyway a chance and she breaks into a run away from all the chaos.

*

Tension had already been running high. As it turns out that 'drunk' guy is the match needed for this situation to fully explode.

On one hand it means that Domino doesn't have to think about the situation anymore. What's left to think about? She hadn't been trained to run… She had been trained to -win.-

There's at least one firearm in the field and bullets don't care what they happen to hit. Take it down, fast and hard. 'Send a message,' as it were. It's almost funny how that all works out.

Right behind the Not-Drunk the monochromatic lady runs the last few steps closer then dives into a roll across the ground, right past the front of the alley. Quick and low. Before she's got sight of the enemy gunman she's got a matched pair of .380 semiautomatics of her own in hand, one kept ready and one already drawing a bead—

*Bam!*

The shot zips -right- past the Not-Drunk on the way to its mark, clearing an alley full of brawlers on its way to that one pinpoint target.

Right after she's got her back to the wall on the opposite side of the alley, hidden. And armed.

*

There's a short meaty thud, whack, and then the sound of a body sliding down the wall. Her training is good enough, she knows she hit and hit well. But that sound might be lost in the middle of the scuffle. Even as the young woman with the dragon's crest beats feet down the alleyway, the remaining gang members are moving in to get a grip of the drunk guy who just messed up one of their buddies.

"Was that… shit, boss is down!" One of the men actually realizes part of what's happening, just in time for that drunk in their grip to suddenly twist and slam an elbow hard back into the side of one man's head. There's a short crack and crunch that sends the man spinning to the side even as one of the guys tries to get Clint in a headlock. They go staggering to the wall where Hawkeye slams his feet into it to press back and break the guys balance, letting them both tumble to the dirt for him to get the angle and the edge and start pounding the guy in the noggin with both fists.

Still, two other men are still up and one of them starts moving down the alley in Domino's direction, a knife catching the light of the street lamp.

*

Message delivered, message received..with limited success. It didn't break up the fight, though hopefully their heavy-hitter is down for the count. There's no way Domino can hear the sound of the knife being drawn, nor will she be able to see it while around the corner. She can only try to read the situation in her own mind.

Still numerous enemies, no obvious disengagement. More of them than necessary for the wildcard, though it does sound like he's really going to town in there. Maybe they should be focusing on him more.

The top of a pistol slide comes to gently rest against the albino's forehead, letting out a slow breath as she tries to focus, listen. Should she leave these guys alive..?

No. Dead people don't seek revenge. Striking to wound wasn't part of her training.

The pistol comes away from her forehead in a quick spin around a crooked index finger, as if mentally psyching herself up. Then she's stepping right back to the alley, both pistols raised.

If someone's there, one shot to the knee and another to the head. If someone isn't there, pick two easy targets and open fire. Strike fast, strike hard, catch them by surprise and put 'em straight down.

*

It's almost textbook clean and perfectly executed. It almost might remind her of age old training exercises. Burst out of cover, identify target, put the rounds in place with the double shot and move to the next target. First thing she'll see is that huge guy with the knife menacing her as he starts forwards. He has no time to react. His world shatters and empties and no, this is definitely no training exercise as when his head is struck the spatter of blood proves it so. Down he goes.

Then she's tracking another target, but they're grappled together. Only that guy is moving cleanly in ways she might recognize from some sensei or another in her past. That twist of the arm, the short sharp slam under the elbow breaking the joint, the twist around to grind the bone and then the push with hip and forearm to smash the guy straight into the side of the wall with a resonant if final crack of bone.

And suddenly he spins to face her, hands up, eyes ready. He's blonde, and has a pair of bright blue eyes, even if his face is a emotionless mask of fighting instinct. But he's not a target just as hopefully she realizes he isn't one either. He straightens up and then looks around, only to offer one word.

"Shit."

*

By the time the last of the thugs gets dropped amidst a chorus of gruesome reports Domino isn't aiming her guns at anything but the ground. This blonde stranger has the last of them well dealt with and, given his attempt to pass as a drunkard just to interrupt the scene a moment ago, she's under the impression that he isn't hunting her at all.

On the other hand, after witnessing the training which he possesses she is by no means -holstering- either of her weapons. Not yet. Maybe he isn't tracking her but there is no mistake about it: He -is- a hunter. One which she is going to make a point of keeping outside the physical reach of.

"Well. That was invigorating." Perhaps not the best choice of words, given the dead guy on the ground beside her with an unnatural skull piercing.

Inclining her head slightly, the albino presses "Was she someone you know?" Or was this a random rescue attempt, right place and right time? How he responds will say a lot about him as a person, and she's way too damn curious for some solid answers.

*

"Uhh," Clint says eloquently as he looks back over his shoulder. Domino will see him jam something back into his ear as he murmurs, "Control, got a complication. But… yeah… but." There's a moment where he's just sort of standing there looking annoyed and he holds up a finger towards the albino woman. For some reason he's got a read on her, and perhaps thinks she's not going to take a pot shot at him. Then again that could just be arrogance.

"But… roger that." He pulls the earpiece back out and grimaces faintly, not at her though it wouldn't be too far a jump to that conclusion. He looks to her and says, "No, was tailing the guys. Things went south. Who do you work for?" He asks her evenly, eyes holding hers. Yeah her training might have given her away in part, she's got the chops and she showed it. Then again… so did he.

*

No pot-shots are forthcoming, though Domino does frown ever so slightly as her head lilts off to one side. What is he doing..? He's focusing on -something,- and it isn't obvious what. Her suspicion only rises further. She would have immediately pegged him as an Agent of some fashion or another, if it hadn't been for that sound of puzzlement he had just made.

An Agent wouldn't be so lost in thought. That would become a huge liability!

"Found all of your missing thoughts?" she inquires halfway sarcastically, pinning him right back with her own pale blue stare. Though to the question her head turns slightly to the side, as if about to shake her head then hesitating. "No one." She's not lying about it, either. "Right place, right time. Get my 'good samaritan' points in for the week."

Hmm. This is a peculiar stand-off.

*

For a moment he sort of looks her up and down and she can see the incredulity in his eyes. Yeah, she's not giving him the whole angle, but then again would he if he was in a similar situation. So instead of getting back on the horn he tells her, "Thanks for the assist." A glance is given to the fallen, then back to her. "Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew."

He kneels down beside one of the fallen, starting to go through his pockets, flipping open his vest, his jacket, finding his wallet and then pulls some of the IDs from it. He looks at it as he stands, then looks back at her. "Look, there's a team that's going to show up soon. I get the vibe you probably don't want to answer any questions. Am I right?" He asks her as he pockets the IDs and dusts off his hands.

A small scowl touches his lips as he finds a ragged scrape and cut along the curve of his forearm, a bit of blood darkening the sleeve. He shakes his head then looks back to her. "Unless I'm misjudging you and you like spending time in County for popping a guy who deserved it."

*

No… Not an Agent. This guy is way too fast and loose for that sort of department. At first she responds with a thin smirk, though her expression quickly changes with a glance over her shoulder when he mentions a -team- en route.

"You guessed correctly," Domino replies while looking back to the blonde guy. As much as she'd like to root through the wallets of the fallen as well, for money rather than ID's, she can estimate they don't have much on hand and it's not worth risking another trip to jail. Been there, done that. Not a fan!

Now this guy -did- wind up helping a mutant, which doesn't escape her attention. But, if he had been trailing these thugs… "Hope your trail didn't go cold," she says then passes him a casual salute with the barrel of one of her guns.

It really is time for her to go, but she's leaving with a lot of things to think about. There's something about this guy, but she just..isn't..trusting him. There's more than what she's able to see.

Maybe she'll have a chance to analyze the situation further another day.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License