I don't own Marvel. Period! Sorry about the long wait on the last one, ya'll!
Manhattan, Avenger's Mansion, Three days after escape, 1100 hours
Maryah breathed out heavily, her mind reeling and her head spinning. Truly they should have been two in the same, but when you're telekenetic, your mind and head are two completely different things. Director Fury had decided that they would put Maryah's skills up against anything and everything they had.
This included Hawkeye.
"Really, come on Fury, she's had enough for today." said Clint, a.k.a. Hawkeye. He was standing above her on elevated ground shooting arrows at her to see if she could fling them right back with her mind. She, however, hadn't exactly been the luckiest person alive. Bruises and cuts covered mostly her arms and legs, while a single gash went across her cheek. Clint had gotten too close on numerous occasion that day during their training, it was only a matter of time before someone, or something, got hurt badly.
"Again." was all he said in reply.
Clint breathed out and readied his bow. He didn't even bother to use any of his speical arrow tips to try and increase his odds. After all, he was dealing with a sixteen-year-old girl, not a alien/robot hybrid race controlled by a crazed, revenge thirsty demi-god.
The first arrow flew out with out any hesitation towards Maryah. Her eyes darted towards it and she managed to throw it aside with her mind.
"Come on, Katniss, got anything better?" she taunted, her eyes tired but alive. A smirk was among her tired features and these features were littered with scrapes and scratches.
"Katniss, really? Hmm...I like that. Though I'll need to grow out my hair so I can have the side braid." replied Clint as he cocked his bow. "Boss, you sure about this."
Fury nodded. "Positive."
Clint breathed out and shot the arrow right towards her head. With quick percision that match that of Loki in their last battle, the arrow froze in mid air right next to her head. Maryah had a poker face on, but her eyes were portraying everything she felt.
Anger. Hatred. Self-loathing, and many...many other emotions that were mixed in.
The arrow flew right back towards him. In order to dodge it he had to move way out of the way. It flew past his head and hit the exact place where his head would have been. Breathing out slowly, Clint took a step towards the arrow, looked at it, turned towards Fury, and held a thumbs up.
"That would've killed me." he stated matter-of-factly. "She's done now."
Fury nodded. "Fine."
Maryah looked at Clint with appreciative look and nodded her head his way. She scurried out quickly. Clint hopped down from his perch and walked up next to Fury.
"You do realize that she is a loose cannon; she can't be controlled?" questioned Clint. His eyebrows raised from their relaxed position in a state of curiosity.
"Yes," replied Fury, "but I'm not trying to control her, I'm trying to teach her to utulize her talents. I've realized over my years that you can't control people like her, or even people like you and the others of the Avengers. But...you can tell them to do something, and that doesn't always mean it'll get done the way you planned. Everyone is a loose cannon, Barton, some of us just less free than others. You have to learn to play on their field and know what makes them mad enough just so then you can show them that you're in charge, not them."
Clint nodded, understanding what his boss was saying. He walk closer to notice six folders laid out on a table. Each were labeled differently by name:
James 'Logan' Howlett - Wolverine
Pietro Django Maximoff 'Frank' - Quicksilver
Wanda Maximoff 'Frank' - Scarlet Witch
Maya Lopez - Echo
Andrew Markus Carter - Lone Ranger
Name not given - Shadow
"New recruits?" asked Clint.
Fury shrugged and dropped another folder on the table. "They're canidates. If they pass the tests." He began to walk, Clint trailing closely behind him.
"Tests?" he questioned.
"Yes, tests. I need to know if their abilities are worth noticing."
"But...abilities, you mean to say these people have powers?" Clint stopped in midstride, his face in complete surprise. "Not more. We're already unpredictable as it is."
"True," said Fury as he stopped to turn back to Clint, "but we need more. Our enemies are growing, Agent Barton, and I think we should too. I'm going to need you to train, so be ready."
Fury walked away after he was done speaking leaving Clint to think about what was just said. As he was thinking, someone lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned around to see who it was. A small, mousey kid with black hair and pale skin.
"Umm...hello...I'm looking for Director Fury." said the kid. He looked no older than sixteen.
Clint pointed to down the hallway and to the left, not saying a single word. The kid nodded and began to walk, his steps light and almost cat like. His movements were fluid and kept a single rythm; nothing went off beat.
"Hey, kid!" yelled Clint down the hallway. The kid turned around to face him. "What's your name?"
The kid shrugged. "Just call me Shadow."