<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i1148.photobucket.com/albums/o566/thenightisnear/Fave%20Characters/cb2.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Clint Barton<br/><strong>Title:</strong> Hawkeye<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Helicarrier<br/><strong>Time:</strong> 7:00 PM<br/><strong>Tags:</strong> None</span></span><br/><hr/><br/><em>Just set them up and knock them down...</em>Barton released the bowstring, sending his arrow straight into the bulls-eye.  After the shower, he had felt the urge to blow off some more steam so here he was shooting the daylights out of some targets he had set up.  Originally he had a launcher fling some clay pigeons out of the landing bay for a bit more of a challenge, but there had been concerns about his arrows find their way into some unsuspecting suburban development and ruining someone's day.  This was the best he could manage with the situation as long as the Helicarrier was in the air.<br/><br/>Clint set down his bow, while he had his ability he wasn't satisfied with his past accomplishments.  He wanted to push himself further so that he could keep pace with the others.  Everyday the impossible had to get a few steps closer, he didn't have the luxury of pretending otherwise.  What they had to deal with demanded that excellence.  He sighed and unstrung his bow, practice was over for now and it was time to hit the shower.  Stowing away the bow and his arrows, Clint drew out the communicator he had left his locker.<br/><br/>No surprises there, Stark had left far too many messages trying to draw his attention.  Clint put in his earpiece as he grabbed his towel and headed to the shower. 'Barton here, you wanted to talk Mr. Stark?'