xistentia | Daemon:Novad

[Several things have become instantly clear about Clint—to himself, to his daemon, and quite possibly, in a moment, to whoever receives the transmission. First: he prefers thinking as a team activity. Second: he thrives (and secretly likes) when it challenges him. Third: he likes getting outside intended boundaries. Bonus fourth for those with the inside knowledge to recognize the daemon's smoky female voice: he misses his old partner.

The transmission begins as Voice, and has two of them. First, Clint:]

Will you just transmit what I tell you to?

[Second: the daemon.]

{ The point of this is to communicate with others. No one's going to know what you're saying. }

Let me worry about that, will you? It's a different point.

{ Okay, okay. Which do you want to start with. }

Text.

{ Fine. }

[Transmission switches abruptly to Text. Which scrolls itself out with almost reluctant and/or sarcastic slowness.]

9.24-24.9.22 / 9 / 9.9-9-24.24-22

[Everything not banter is a S.H.I.E.L.D. recognition tactic. This one: standard alphanumeric conversion (9-14 / 1 / 2-1-20-5) expressed in Roman numerals (IX-XIV / I / II-I-XX-V transcribed I.X-X.I.V / I / I.I-I-X.X-V) themselves alphanumerically converted (9.24-24.9.22 / 9 / 9.9-9-24.24-22), whose translation was a falconry reference re: restraint. Simultaneously a status update, an identification, and a request for extraction.

Probably in response to non-transmitted exchange, feed switches back to Voice]

Ври, да помни.

[Said by him. A commandment of Fury's in Nat's language. Lie, but remember.]

Video now, please.

{ Yes, sir. }

Don't call me that.

{ Yes, armcandy. }

Ugh.

[Video activates in time to catch the end of Clint rolling his eyes. He adjusts to look down the barrel, out at whoever may be receiving, and offer the slightest of not-really-happy smiles.]

'We defy augury.'

[A temporospatial reference in hopes of synchronization/orientation, for whoever might recognize it; and yeah, a bit of cheek, even if you don't. That one's for Coulson.

… who, multidimensions notwithstanding, 's not going to be answering … … …

Shake it off, man.

Though the feed remains video, the female voice remains off-camera—since she is the camera:]

{ So the idea is that anyone who can possibly understand any of that will present themselves back as countersign—? }

Could you not share our secrets?

{ You haven't confided any yet. Except some of what you said when you were still half conscious, and then in denial, and then angry, which— }

O-kay. Sign off, computer.

{ Not a computer. }

Sign off, ma'am.

{ Not a ma'am. }

Sign off, dammit.

[Novad signs off.]

Threaded | Flat

[ Huh.

H u h. ]

Well. This is a . . . surprise.

[for the longest part of the video, kurt mostly watches clint fumble with his daemon, red eyes glittering and lips quirked with amusement. he settles a hand against his cheek, free limb curling beneath the elbow of the one he has at his face, head absently tilting.

none of the coded things are recognizable to him; he can acknowledge the russian, but cannot understand it, unfortunately. if he had the ability, nightcrawler might say something in return. instead, he shifts the hand, fingers curling against his lips as an amused giggle slips free.]

Someone seems to be having a bit of trouble with their partner, [he notes.] Who wouldn't know any better about not sharing secrets, of course.

[ Wow, to think he'd always avoided video before. That matters less these days, and also, this guy clearly needs his input.

Succinctly: ]

That was stupid.

Whoever you work for, they aren't in charge here. You're new, right? I mean, you'd have to be. You got a name or are we just gonna go with callisign: Armcandy?

[On cue a young woman looking like something from either a vintage shop or a 50's office is spotted on camera. Her Daemon however is striking, a baby peregrine falcon.]

I know Russian but very bare bones, mostly swears and how to order food. [The one time she let a bored night shift detective waiting for files teach her how to drop an F bomb anyone?]

[A brunette with archery gear can be seen as she gets the little cat off camera to behave.]

You lost me with the Russian. [Granted all Thea knows is what little Oliver has taught her, mostly swears.]

[Sonya's daemon is a Monarch butterfly. The redheaded mutant offers Clint a half smile, amused.]

Relationship troubles, there?

Daemon's, right? They can such a handful. The worst mine seems to do is just decide to chase squirrels in the middle of broadcasts, but- I think that's just a dog thing, actually.

My name's Rose, by the way. I don't really understand all... that you just did, but I hope you find someone who does!

HELLO, HAWKEYE. PERSON WITH HAWKEYE'S VOICE.

THE TALKING ROBOT COMPANION INTEGRATES BETTER INTO YOUR COMBAT AESTHETIC AFTER A LITTLE PRACTICE. BUT IT HELPS WHEN YOU FLY AROUND IN A TIN CAN.

WHERE IN THE TIMELINE ARE YOU FROM?

[ video | un: sabellad ]

daemon: dizzied; video

Daemon: muerted. Video. (Note: Marcos is currently mirrored!)

Video: Daemon FeverD

Daemon: MiaD

↳ video | daemon: Astrid

video; daemon: apollod (rosie is currently mirrored!)

un: fridayd