ArchivedLogs:Roles

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Roles
Dramatis Personae

Clint, Steve

2016-02-22


"Have we met before, Agent Coulson?"

Location

<NYC> S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters - Times Square


Amongst the sharply tailored suits worn by most of the personnel in the building, Steve looks rather out of place in a brown leather jacket, purple, green, and white flannel, blue jeans, and black combat boots. He wears his iconic shield slung across his back, and a black laptop bag over one shoulder.

The shorter man who exits Fury's office in his wake looks much more at home in a crisp black suit and a perfectly knotted red, white, and blue tie. He has a pleasant if unremarkable face which, combined with his casual movements and short, dark, heavily receding hair, gives off a sort of generally harmless impression. "I gotta say, it's an honor to meet you," he's saying as he closes the door behind him, "officially."

"Officially?" Steve turns and blinks at him, nonplussed. "Have we met before, Agent Coulson? I'm afraid I don't recall."

"/I/ sort of met you," Coulson replies with a slightly embarrassed duck of his head. "I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping." He grows more flustered as Steve's eyebrows raise up, up, up. "I mean, I was...I was /present/ while you were unconscious, from the ice..."

The silence hangs between them as they walk down the hallway together. Finally, Steve manages a strained "Ah. I see."

Coulson smiles, looking faintly relieved. "You know, it's really, it's just a...just a huge honor to have you on board." They come to a stop in front of a bank of elevators, and Coulson just hits 'Down'. No retinal scan or anything.

Steve's answering smile is thin and not particularly happy, his brows just a touch wrinkled. "Well, I hope I'm the man for the job."

"Oh, you are," Coulson assures him, gesturing for him to enter first when the elevator doors open. "Absolutely. I hope you'll find your team satisfactory, too. Agents Barton, Carter, and Triplett are among our best field operatives."

"Carter?" Steve echoes, eyes widening slightly. The elevator sheds ten floors smoothly and deposits them in a hallway that looks virtually identical from the one they had just quit.

"Sharon Carter," Coulson says, "Peggy's great-niece. Though I assure you, she and Agent Triplett were both chosen for their merits, not their relations."

Steve darts a suspicious sideways glance at Coulson. "Are you implying that I might have some cause to think Agent Triplett was selected on the basis of family relation?"

Coulson blushes only slightly. "Oh! I hadn't meant to say that, and he'll probably be annoyed that I mentioned it. Out of respect to his wishes, I'd rather you asked him that."

"Fair enough." Steve does not seem inclined to press the issue further, but in any case they have apparently reached their destination. The door looks little different than dozens of others they passed. The plaque beside it simply reads 'Multipurpose Suite A'.

"The room name is just a placeholder," Coulson assures him earnestly as he steps up to the door. This time there /is/ a retinal scan, and when the door opens the suite beyond is somewhat more expansive than its name might suggest. There is a holotable at the center of a sunken area, and a ring of workstations below vast displays mounted into the walls. The room is deserted at the moment, most of the control surfaces are dark with inactivity at the moment, but the screens display world maps, local maps, live-streamed news, even a cluster of Twitter feeds (including @zombiewatchNYC) and trending statistics.

Coulson leads Steve through a door set into the right wall, into a smaller break room. One side sports couches and tables, the other a small kitchenette. There are four people sitting in a loose semicircle.

Standing farthest from the door is an unassuming man in a black stand-collar button-down and dark gray trousers. The first of them to stand up, his eyes take in the newcomers. "Agent Coulson. Captain Rogers." He gives them both a curt nod of greeting. "I'm Clint Barton."

"Agent Barton will be the XO," Coulson adds, "and the senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on the team. Captain Rogers is a consultant, though he still has command authority in all mission-related matters. Oh! I didn't mean to interrupt introductions -- please continue."

"Antoine Triplett," says the tall black man standing beside Clint, snapping a precise salute which Steve returns. He's wearing a light pink dress shirt with the collar and cuffs unbuttoned (the latter neatly rolled half-way up his muscular forearms) and black slacks.

The very pale white woman standing nearest to Steve has long, wavy blond hair and is wearing a sharkskin gray pantsuit and light blue dress shirt -- all of very masculine cut. "Sharon Carter," she says.

Standing on the other side of Clint from Triplett is a small south Asian woman in a lavender skirt suit. She started signing a few beats after Coulson began speaking, and continued through the others' introductions, though she never speaks herself.

When no one else speaks, Steve waits a beat longer, then looks to the yet-unnamed woman. "And you are...?"

She repeats that, as well, in sign, then raises her eyebrows at Clint, who simply sweeps his hand forward: 'Go ahead.' Now she speaks as well, when she signs, "I'm Shanti Alexander, Agent Barton's interpreter."

"I'm deaf," Clint explains. "I can read lips...well enough to get by. You have to be facing me, of course. Sign language and writing are easier, though, especially with groups." He shrugs.

Steve's eyes widen, his gaze skipping rapidly between Clint and his interpreter. "So...do you go into the field together?" he asks, hesitant, perhaps a little incredulous.

Shanti renders his words into sign, but Clint must have caught his drift, because he's shaking his head before her hands have quite caught up. "No, that would be...probably impractical, with the role I typically get in the field. I have goggles that display messages in text from my teammates. I'll show you when we go over comms tech later."

Steve nods, blushing faintly. "Thank you. But...since you mention it, what /is/ your role in the field -- what are any of your roles, for that matter?" His pale blue eyes follow Shanti's hands as they move.

Coulson perks up and half-turns, gesturing to the door. "Ah, right! /That's/ why we're having this briefing. Come on, let's put all that extremely impressive technology in the next room to use."