Iowa Bros in Space! The Spacening. Starring James T Kirk and Clinton Barton

[smartass_captain]

Fighting with Verity had done something for Jim despite all the vitriolic feeling swimming around his system. It had made him determined to go home. It wasn't as though he couldn't anymore. He knew exactly where the doorway leading back to the Enterprise stood. It was just...making himself open the door. Jim stands in the long hallway lined with doors to other worlds, staring intently at the 'Caution: Radiation risk' etched into the glass of his world's door. Shaking fingers reached for it, to push it open. Retracted.

He couldn't do this. No, bullshit. He was Jim Kirk, he could open a stupid door. Just. Not at the moment. Apparently. Jim shouts a string of fluent Orion curses at the door before stalking back off into the Nexus. To the plain door with the sideways 8 on it that leads to CLint's world. He pulls up a chair and waits. Clint would come sooner or later. He'd ask him to come with. Been meaning to show him around the ship anyway, might as well do it now.

Why couldn't his time have comms anyway? Jim smacks the back of his head against the wall while he waits, idly replaying the argument between himself and Verity in his head. What better way to kill time than to hate yourself?

Comments

[aw_hawkguy]

"Eh, the guy's a jerk. Hates people with powers, got to be the Avengers' government liaison. Basically, he likes t'tie people up with rules, and too bad if you're just trying to do something decent. Most of the time, he swings around a little more authority than he's actually got, kinda like your 'not the captain' guy back there."

Clint gets strange "what are you doing here" looks all the time, he doesn't mind.

"He actually forced Captain America to retire, one time."

[smartass_captain]

"Haha, Spocks not a jerk. Not on purpose. He does the rules and regs thing mmmostly to piss me off, though he'll never admit it. He's just trying to look out for me. He has to make a token objection, I have to tell him noted but I'm ignoring you. That sort of thing. We make a pretty great team." Jim sounds oddly proud. Clint should have seen them before they worked out this combo thing.

They fought a lot.

"How the hell does someone force Captain America to retire? Give the country to fucking Russia?" Jim shakes his head. They're at a quieter end of the ship by now, and Jim stops in front of a door and keys in his code. Decidedly not the transport room, unless that was supposed to be a really obscure innuendo for something. It's Jim's quarters. He's already throwing his regulation uniform shirt on the floor as he digs through some civilian clothing to wear. A black shirt and his trusty leather jacket soon are donned.

"Fuck, Barton. We could practically be siblings, now." Jim snorts and claps him on the arm as he leads him down to transport. The ensign on duty chokes slightly when he sees it's the captain. He immediately stops staring at Clint and looks back down at his console.

"Coordinates 2.18.15.19 ensign." Jim hops up on the platform and motions for Clint to stand on one of the other marked spots. "Try to hold still, okay?" He adds Clint's way.

[aw_hawkguy]

"Huh. Fair enough, that sounds like a lotta teams I know."

Clint chuckles at the Russia thing. "It's a long story." They've got a walk, though. "See, the serum that made Cap all strong was breaking down, gonna kill 'im, and he actually convinced a guy who's normally on the other side'a the law to help him out, fix it. Thing is, while he was under, the guy snuck some state secrets outta Cap's head. Gyrich was convinced that Cap'd turned traitor, had him deported. Man, did he have egg on his face when it was all over."

Clint grins at the siblings crack, putting in, "hey, brothers full'a trouble, I know how to deal with."

Stepping onto the transporter pad, Clint looks around. "Oh, cool, space teleport thing? Got it." And he'll hold still. He's seen teleport accidents.

Obligatory Space Bar!

[smartass_captain]

"Space teleport thing." Jim confirms. "Beam us down, Ensign."

"Aye, Captain."

Clint takes this a hell of a lot better than Bones does, and the CMO has done it way more often. It's just best not to think about it too hard. Whether you're really you after your molecules are obliterated in one place and assembled in another. Jim seems pretty used to it though.

The air has a decidedly artificial smell to it, and a pressure that makes their ears pop as they wander out from the alley they appeared in and toward a dimly lit building that seems to be made out of scrap metal and a prayer. Sure, there's an actual Starbase outpost and bar about a mile or so the other way, but local dives are better for keeping a low profile. The sky above them shows a looming planet far off. They're on a moon of sorts. An alien night sky stretches out above them, a softly glowing purple of a nebula that seems to color the sky.

More fun, too. If fun means dangerous. Jim greets the blue skinned alien by the entrance in fluent Andorian before jerking his head toward inside at Clint and leading them in. Mostly non humans in this place, though the barkeep seems to be, probably to Clint's relief. Jim settles up at the bar and grins.

"How's this for space. Ten different species mingling' and having a good time in peace."

Better than the obligatory space diner. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RrxlbLVcpqI

[aw_hawkguy]

When they arrive, Clint puts out a hand. "Whoa. That was a trip." Looking up, he adds, "hang on a sec." Because that is some space right up there. "I know I'm gonna look like a tourist, but wow. This never gets old."

When he lowers his gaze, Clint takes in the rough surroundings appreciatively. He's also a connoisseur of dive bars, and this one looks like it went off the high board. (The Andorian on the door probably wouldn't appreciate being filed in Clint's head as "Kree with doodleboppers," so let's not tell him.)

"Looks like a good time to me," Clint agrees. "Man, I gotta make sure I go to more'a the cool parts of space back home. This is way better than Titan."

That is one of the best movies ever.

[smartass_captain]

CLint can look like a tourist all he likes. That's like the entire point! Appreciating space because it's fucking space. Hell, Jim doesn't get tired of it either, he just has a whole observation deck to watch space whenever he likes.

The Andorian would probably punch him in his throat so yes. Let's not.

"I'll say. All that's there in my world is a top secret military shipyard and a whole lotta bad memories." Jim motions for the bartender. "Two Cardassian Sunrises." Jim takes a look around the dive, deems it pretty much perfect. It's relatively busy, he can see a couple ladies over at a corner table (give him a drink or two and that's suddenly an option tonight). No one that looks overtly dangerous. Parts for a good night. "You?"

[aw_hawkguy]

"Uh, bunch'a stuffy guys, for the most part. Got this whole utopier-than-thou attitude going, but it's also where Thanos came from, so." He chuckles, as if that's counterargument enough on its own. Must be a missing reference.

"Is one'a those for me, or do I gotta to play make-the-bartender-guess?"

Looking around the bar, Clint also sees the ingredients for a good time. Music, people, talking... is that something like a pool table? Can he get plastered and make bar bets about his accuracy on it? Someone round up the suckers!

[smartass_captain]

"Yeah one of 'em is for you." Jim pushes a shockingly bright drink his way and clinks his own against Clint's before throwing about half of it back. It is not the recommended way to drink those. Don't follow his example.

Jim follows his gaze over to the table and gets a stupid grin on his face. "Aw, Barton. That's evil. Let's do it. Hey! Get us two Kladmian Fireteas too please." He's chuckling into his drink that is almost gone already. Jim really doesn't have the best stamina for drinking, but waiting around to get buzzed is for people more patient than he.

"What do you have in mind?"

[aw_hawkguy]

"That's bright," Clint observes of the drink, trying a little sip (he has enough experience with alcohol to go gently into new kinds).

"Well, I'm thinkin' that kinda looks like a pool table, and I figure once we're a little buzzed, we can make whoever's playin' on it look like chumps. You any good?"

[smartass_captain]

"Am i any good?" Jim scoffs, then remembers he's talking to goddamn Hawkeye and mayyybe he shouldn't talk more game than he's actually got. He points his glass (mostly empty) Clint's way. "I'm decent, yeah. Used to shark truckers passin' through Iowa when I was bored. Probably not near as good as you though."

Still, he's grinning and its an expression his entire crew would be shouting warnings into Clint's ear if they could see. Captain, no. Captain YES. Jim slams down the rest of his drink.

"Good enough to help you make th'rest of this bar look like kids. I'm in."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G7PF2iQgoAM

[aw_hawkguy]

Clint grins. "So, have they got future-space-money here, or should we bet these guys the losers hafta do embarrassing stuff?"

Clint Barton practically wrote the book on Australian-Rules Billiards (which is to say, he took an existing pool rulebook, tore out the page on scoring, and set the rest on fire). He's also drinking slower than Jim, but pretty good at faking drunker than he is (or performing drunk, if it comes to that).

Of course, he's also a carny, a con, and a sneaky bastard--he's going to let everyone look like they're a better player than him until the bet's interesting, and then he'll get out the A-game.

Busy work day is busy :(

[smartass_captain]

"Unless you got a hankerin' to buy the place a round, credits ain't going to do you any good." Jim is rounding on his spicy slow burn of the firetea already. "Let's make fools out of this place."

Impress some locals, maybe trade wisecracks with a couple of tougher looking guys back in the corner. Let Clint show off and flirt a while if he feels like. You knew, show him a good time.

This is Jim's worst best idea yet.

It happens.

[aw_hawkguy]

"You could use 'em," Clint points out. But embarrassing bets are fun in their own special way. Finishing off the last of his first drink, Clint ambles over to the not-pool table to offer the players an affable smile. "Hey, guys. What'cha playin'?"

Re: It happens.

[smartass_captain]

Ehh. Starfleet takes good enough care of him and Jim doesn't really need credits on a deep space mission. Jim grabs both of their fireteas and follows him over, putting on his best 'friendly hick' smile he can manage and flashing those baby blue eyes.

Win 'em over early enough and they won't suspect a thing.

"Mind if a couple tourists join you fellas?" He exchanges a gesture between himself and Clint. There's an exchange in a language Greek to Clint (Kree but with more chirps but don't tell them) before they size the humans up.

"Any good?" The accent is thick but Jim Bob's his head all the same.

"Alright enough I guess."

[aw_hawkguy]

"Well, back home I'm a fair hand at pool," Clint drawls, snagging his tea-whatever from Jim and taking a sip. "Now, I'll be honest, fellas, I've never seen this game here before, but hell," he laughs, "I'll try anything once, right?"

Isn't he just a big sucker? Don't you guys wanna roll the drunken tourist with your table-game prowess?

Hecks yeah break!

[smartass_captain]

This is too much. This is so unfair Jim has to take a swig of his drink before he ruins everything by giggling like a lunatic. He gives Clint a clap on the shoulder and takes a seat by the table.

"How you boys wanna play?" Slip the entendre in there, Jim. Bat those eyes. What? One of them doesn't look half bad and he's enjoying this. "Loser buys the next round?"

Woo berries!

[aw_hawkguy]

Clint takes a swig, too, and manages to make his grin look more like a friendly, aw-shucks cornpone expression. "Here, fella, gimme one'a them sticks. Which color do I knock in the holes?"

They must look like the two biggest rubes in the local cluster.

[nexus_npcs]

One of the doodleboppers Andorians looks Clint over with a predatory smile. "Explaining the rules is thirsty work. You would do well to remember that." He puts a friendly hand on Clint's shoulder to guide him around the table, pointing out the hazards and ways to score with a cue.

While the Andorian is explaining the basic mechanics of the game to Clint, the friendly neighborhood Nausicaan lumbers over to keep an eye on Jim. Just friendly-like. For now. For a Nausicaan. He's got a knife, but surely he doesn't need to mention this fact.

Srsly you guys I'm laughing way to hard in my cubicle

[smartass_captain]

Hey there Nausican beefcake. Jim raises his glass in greeting before featuring vaguely to the table. Clint is way too good at playing dumb.

"Your friend there looks pretty good at this. I just hope we don't embarrass ourselves." He's still giving that charming grin. "You guys come here often?"

We could wait until you get home, if need be.

[aw_hawkguy]

"Ya don't say," Clint murmurs. "You'll be swallowin' somethin' soon, I'm sure." Clint doesn't mean to add to the innuendo party, it's just part of that whole "beautiful human disaster" thing he does.

"Okay, I think I got it." Bending down to the table, he'll do his best to make it look like his win was accidental, a result of beginner's luck that surprises him as much as anyone else (oh, he's also trying hard to actually win). He'll save the trick shots for once they've successfully roped these guys in.

((Also? All hail the fancy coding and generous efforts of our NPC player!))

[nexus_npcs]

((My pleasure, guys. :D))

The Nausicaan isn't so easily impressed with pretty eyes or charming smiles. He grunts in answer, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter so he has something to do while he waits.

The Andorian is encouraging throughout the game, all friendliness. "Well done. You must be a natural born dom-jot player. Allow me to buy you a drink before you play my friend?" The Nausicaan... well, he can't look friendly, but he tries to look a little less intimidating. For now.

Nah, it's slow the last couple hours here.

[smartass_captain]

This is a shame. Jim will have to flirt harder at the Andorian instead then. Plus, no offense beefcake, but the Andorian looks a lot better and probably doesn't break ribs when he hugs. Probably.

"Aw, thanks. We'll be returning the favor soon." Jim snorts but accepts another drink before getting up. He's not quite as tall as Clint is, and definitely not as muscular. He's fit, but he's no Avenger-buff. It's kind of hard for regular folks to be, especially in the whole space thing.

Jim is a lot better at keeping the game close, but then again he's no super hero. Also, getting more buzzed by the second. A third of the way in he actually looks like he's losing.

"Why'd I let you go first." Jim sulks in Clint's direction, only chancing a wink after the other two aren't looking their way. "Swear you want me to look like trash, Barton."

((Seriously you are amazing~! <3 ))

[aw_hawkguy]

Time to aw-shucks it up; Clint grins at the Andorian's praise. "Aw, naw, I'm sure it's just beginner's luck."

Jim gets a shrug, and a "hey, you were busy makin' time."

Then it's time for a game with the Nausicaan. Clint gives him a (genuinely) nervous smile and a little wave. "Hi, there. You play a lot?"

[nexus_npcs]

They're starting to draw a crowd. Another Nausicaan comes to watch when the first one moves toward the table, and an Andorian joins the group at the bar, following them over with a drink and a posture that suggests he's there to guard Clint.

"Yes." The Nausicaan downs his drink in one gulp, slams the glass down, and takes his position at the table. He's very good and extremely serious about this. The Andorians take up a position to watch that would make it hard to get to the exit without going through them.

[smartass_captain]

A less arrogant man than Jim might start to get a bad feeling about this. This isn't the sort of crowd they want to be drawing and no Jim-- not just because those girls in the corner haven't joined said group yet.

That's only a partial shame because at least one of these Andorians is ten kinds of doable. Is Clint into dudes? If not, Jim is calling ten kinds of dibs if the doe eyes he's making are any indication.

He decides at the last minute to wing man for Clint and throw his game just barely. It's a better setup for the glory Hawkeye is about to lay down.

"Aghhh alright, give me another round for all four of us!" Jim hollers toward the bar, grinning stupidly as he laughs. "You stole my beginners luck Barton. You ass." take them out He signs discreetly. "We betting anything other than drinks this round?"

Time to up the ante.