thelegion | Tinker, Tailor, Hero, Spy [Modplot/Network IC Post] [Part 2] [Set after the ambush ends]

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Tinker, Tailor, Hero, Spy [Modplot/Network IC Post] [Part 2] [Set after the ambush ends]

[Things are not good -- and that's the understatement of the century. Just about everyone got walloped and the native Legionnaires were at the epicenter of that collective wumping, targeted first by the Fatal Five in the hopes that with them out of the way the rookies would be easy to pick off.]

[Thankfully, the Fatal Five were wrong. The rookies took their lumps but they held their ground.]

Matter-Eater Lad here.

[His glasses only partly hide the massive shiner he's got, and he's wearing a neck brace. Hooray. Fortunately, those are much less bulky in the glorious robot future.]

Alright, ladies and gents and variations thereupon, I think it goes without saying that what just happened was the pits. Right now, half of us more experienced Legionnaires are in Medbay and Kid Q is still trapped in a time loop, even if we've managed to relocate her to Legion World. Brainiac thinks he can fix it but he's still a mess because his personality inhibitors got blown and he has to fix those first before he can even hope to think straight again.

Everyone's respective boo boos aren't the only thing we have to worry about though. The Fatal Five knowing all our weaknesses, and some of what they said, suggested there's a mole on Legion World passing them private medical scans and tactical data. Since the Science Police had jurisdiction, they've already arrested a suspect.

[He tilts his omnicom and they can see that the Science Police are in the background, arguing viciously with Timber Wolf, Officer Erin, and Umbra, and trying to drag away a handcuffed Rocket, who's wasting no time in arguing with them, too.]

["Hey! Hey, watch the sui--what do you mean, hand over my gun? That's my gun! I mean, I got more, but it's my gun! I told you, I ain't a spy! Or a mole, or whatever stupid word you wanna use! I didn't do it!" A pause. "Do I look like a sp--yes, I know spies don't look like spies, that's whole point, but you know what I mean!"]

[Back on Tenzil's face again.]

It's totally bogus. The only evidence against Rocket they have is all digital sign-ins and video, which is so easy to doctor in this time period that a Terellian spongebeast could do it. No physical evidence or witnesses. No prints or DNA at the console he was supposedly accessing the data from. But they're not listening to us.

[Rocket has not stopped arguing in the background. "You're all assholes. Complete friggin' assholes. Have I told you that? 'Cause I feel like I should. Shouldn't you be out policing science, instead of arresting people who didn't do anything?"]

[Tenzil lowers his voice.] Which means we're gonna have to take a few things into our own hands.

[The last thing they hear from Rocket as he's dragged off is: "--and somebody remember to go water the plants while I'm dealing with this shit! I come back and they're all dead, somebody's gonna get their ass shot, then bit by a flytrap!"]

[Tenzil goes into the Legion Leader's office for more privacy.]

The chances of any of you rookies wanting to take down the entire Legion, when it means Chronoblivion would make the multiverse go kaput, are slim. We think Rocket's innocent -- and if he's not, there needs be evidence that's a whole lot more reliable before charges are brought.

Kid Q's out of the loop -- stuck in the loop as it were -- so as Deputy Leader, I'm taking charge. While the rest of us are licking our wounds, I'm organizing a team from the Legionnaires that are still standing to investigate. It'll be a private affair. No reason the Science Police need to worry their pretty little heads over any possible investigations that might be running side-by-side with their own, right?

Some good news, by the by: other than 4 Science Police officers that went down in the first blast, we had no other fatal casualties. All the delegates survived, all but the 4 Scicops made it, there were no fatalities in the crowd, and even with taking our lumps we didn't lose any teammates. The Fatal Five had everything they needed to turn the attack into a massacre that could've destroyed two governments, and taken out the entire team. You did good.

Oh, and since we have some new people with absolutely impeccable timing, welcome to the Legion. Don't mind our dust. Or the multitudinous catastrophic injuries. If you have any general questions that aren't just "Why is absolutely everyone injured?" feel free to ask.

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[ Meanwhile, Robbie was ready to go down with the ship over leaving someone to struggle in peace - he's still ready to tie himself to the mizzenmast.

But out of deference to Brainiac and Vance, he's standing down. ]

No, I definitely heard the word asshole. And the joke was a three. Like it's the douchebro check joke, while you're felling out the audience.

No one's laughing.

[ That is total standing down ]

[ Grif pauses, sizes this situation up, and arrives at a clearly great decision. ]

Well then I obviously need to make more jokes.

[ The flippancy dial is up to eleven. ]

Then obviously I need to invest in a giant hook and a quick drop curtain.

[ Because screw you, there's a time and a place. This is neither. ]

Do it. Everything around here is so serious sometimes.

[ Grif shudders. ]

Unless you just want the job entirely, it's a lot of work.

Not if I leave you hog-tied in an air duct.

If you can catch me.

[ Was this a serious conversation? Because Grif's forgotten. It's all bullshit now. ]

[ It's caught in between serious and farce for Robbie. He thinks Grif overstepped, but, if Brainy's explanation is accurate, what right does he have to hypocritically piss on humor as a defense mechanism? ]

Oh, I'll catch you. Speed's in my code name.

As long as you don't start doing too much of it we're good. It's my thing.

[ He exhales, then, ]

So, you're one of Rich and Vance's teammates?

[ Just gonna go for it. ]

[ Ribbie rests his chin on his fist. ]

Getting chased down and tied up is your thing? You and your hobbies.

Yeah, I am. I mean technically I'm everybody's teammate, but we've been on the same team in our home universe. Whatever they've said about me is true.

[ That should cover the good and the bad. ]

I meant The Speed Thing and you know it.

[ It will always and forever be The Speed Thing. With capitals. ]

If it makes you feel better, they haven't actually said anything to me about you.

Whatever they say about me, when they get around to it, is blatant lies and slander by the way.

The ... Speed Thing?

[ Robbie does pick up on the fact that it is being pronounced dramatically, with capital letters, and mimics it. ]

It does make me feel better.

[ ... it actually makes him kind of sad, but he doesn't blame them for not talking about friends that aren't here. ]

Oh, huh. Cause Rich said you're Casanova for the Space Age, and Vance said you're the next Simon Williams. But I will totally help clear up these misconceptions among the populace. How hard is it for a Legionnaire to get an interview?

You know. Move super fast, run on water, that stuff? The Speed Thing.

[ As for the other topic of discussion, he sighs. ]

Goddammit. Never mind.

Yeah, I don't think we're talking about the same sort of ability. You want Speed. I'm Speedball. Easy mistake. I can get up to a wicked fast speed, but not so much with the running.

[ Grif basically walked into the backhanded complinsults. ]

How do I get an outside line on this omnicomm thing? I can be on the news tonight. For you.

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whyarewehere - 2016-09-20 18:49 (UTC) - Expand

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walkingballpit - 2016-09-22 11:29 (UTC) - Expand

Not the air ducts. I use those.

[The speaker in question is using them right now, judging by the backdrop and the echo accompanying her words.]

His complaining will make navigation more difficult.

We kind of all use the air ducts. I prefer my air non-scentrd, and he'd get ripe after a day or two.

What do you mean though, navigation? Why are you in the air ducts? Haven't you seen The Rats of Nimh?!

We'd hear him complaining before he died. Or one of the cleaning bots would find him.

[Parker cocks her head to the side.]

Why wouldn't I be in the air ducts? They're pretty nice, as air ducts go. A lot cleaner than I'm used to back home. Are the Rats of Nimh different than other rats?

I'm going to amend my plan to include gagging, but I'm still not doing it because I don't think you're calculating in bodily functions.

[ Gross, now he's considering this rationally. Thanks a lot, Grif. He blames Grif for the mental images, which are more like mental smells. ]

Why would you be in air ducts? They're small, they're cold, the bends are hell to work around once you clear 5'6". Unless you're breaking in somewhere or spying on someone in the shower, they're not a creature comfort.

Uh, yeah. They're awesome science experiment rats who mostly meet a tragic end. Seriously, I cannot be the only 21st century kid who's seen this.

People can make plenty of noise with a gag in.

[This is said in a tone that suggests that she has ample experience with the amount of noise that can be produced through a gag. It is not the kind of tone that implies that the experience was part of some kind of sexy thing either. It's a combination of earnestness and satisfaction, like she genuinely wants to impart useful information and is also remembering the process of gathering it fondly. It would be less creepy if not for the subject.]

I like air ducts. The sound is soothing. And I'm not 5'6".

[She tilts her head the other direction, a line forming between her brows as she frowns.]

You probably aren't, but I've never heard of them. I didn't do the twenty-first century the way most people did it, though.

You know, gags haven't come up as often in my life as you'd expect.

[ This seems like a dramatic oversight in his superhero training. Also not too popular? Being tied to an object. Ropes are underused, but that's probably because everyone and their brother has a way out of them. ]

Naked on a bean bag chair eating Cheetos and playing X-Box was a great way to do the 21st century. You missed out.

Then again, you think an air duct is a real humdinger. The excitement might've killed you.

You're adorable.

I've been naked on a bean bag chair. Without Cheetos, because my hitter says --

[ Her voice drops into an Oklahoman-accented growl. ]

"These are not food, goddamnit, stop bringing them into the office,"

[ Her voice returns to normal. ]

-- and throws them out if he finds them, and I watched Netflix instead of playing X-Box because video games are kind of dull.

And then my hacker showed up and made weird noises, but also brought me lemonade and fixed the air conditioning.

[ Robbie beams at her. ]

You're pretty cute yourself. You'd be hot if you didn't hate on my lifelong passion.

[ He hasn't owned a video game system in several years, but having hobbies it important. ]

Like it wouldn't matter that I've got no idea what you're talking about after naked on a bean bag chair. Are you on a baseball team or an Internet crime squad?

I'm not helping him. I didn't offer to ignore your complaining in this hypothetical in exchange for money or really good chocolate, did I?

...Would you do that, though?

Do you have really good chocolate?

[ She's just screwing with him. Probably. Right? ]

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