Oh, it was a joke, and the smirk at the corner of Clint's mouth plainly painted it as such. He'd had personal experience dealing with the crazy fangirls - hell, he'd developed his on entrance to the Tower to avoid the cosplay bunnies that liked to hang out outside the doors and wait for Steve or Tony to appear - and he wasn't about to actually wish that on anyone save someone like Tony, who thrives on that kind of attention. Daryl clearly was not one of those people, otherwise he wouldn't have almost jumped on Clint when he'd seen the man he'd only met once passing by.

Anything the Bow-Man people would look for, there wouldn't be a lot of it. He'd been purposefully lying low since coming to this world, and his major contribution so far (fighting along Bruce and saving Betty) during the Superior Iron Man fiasco in September, had happened during a whole bunch of other crap and without good documentation so people just didn't know him. Truth to tell, he was more than happy with that - it was much easier to do his job when he wasn't instantly recognizable. Any of his jobs.

"Yeah - the bow I had got broken not long before I came here, and I didn't have time to get it replaced." Or to just fetch another one, he had at least five at home, but he'd been in maximum security prison only hours before transferring over. "And arrows. Got some from some hunting stores, but..." He shrugged. They worked fine for normal hunting, target practice and the like, but he missed his trick arrows. Not that these guys would likely be able to make those.