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[video]
How's it so many of you are runnin' about and not bringin' back any stories with you? Some of us could use it you know! Instead of havin' 'em all dumped out when they drop those spots on the news, anyway.
[Ahem.
Tracer is broadcasting from the monitor room, where she's clearly been serving out her duties with as much patience as she can muster (read: not a lot). Even with all of the activity, Tracer can't deal with the tedium. She's rigged up a way to continuously spin herself in a chair while she spends time dispatching Legionnaires as is expected of her. Even with that, she's incredibly restless, and has herself perched in the window, lounging on the sill in a manner that probably would be considered unsafe if she weren't capable of rewinding time around her.
Overwatch's systems were mostly automated. When a warning went out, the Strike Team left -- and that was the end of it. This dispatching nonsense makes her thankful that it never got quite as large, but also makes her nostalgic.
That's not the only thing, but. Well, its a big part of it. And while she's trying to think of a way to bring up that first thing without outing herself, she can be seen tapping her fingers nervously on the big glowing machine on her chest.]
...speakin' of stories. How many of you lot got families back where you came from? Maybe a better half...
[She pauses here -- not too long though. Don't want to be suspicious.]
...do you think they're still lookin' for you? It's been a tick, hasn't it?
[Ahem.
Tracer is broadcasting from the monitor room, where she's clearly been serving out her duties with as much patience as she can muster (read: not a lot). Even with all of the activity, Tracer can't deal with the tedium. She's rigged up a way to continuously spin herself in a chair while she spends time dispatching Legionnaires as is expected of her. Even with that, she's incredibly restless, and has herself perched in the window, lounging on the sill in a manner that probably would be considered unsafe if she weren't capable of rewinding time around her.
Overwatch's systems were mostly automated. When a warning went out, the Strike Team left -- and that was the end of it. This dispatching nonsense makes her thankful that it never got quite as large, but also makes her nostalgic.
That's not the only thing, but. Well, its a big part of it. And while she's trying to think of a way to bring up that first thing without outing herself, she can be seen tapping her fingers nervously on the big glowing machine on her chest.]
...speakin' of stories. How many of you lot got families back where you came from? Maybe a better half...
[She pauses here -- not too long though. Don't want to be suspicious.]
...do you think they're still lookin' for you? It's been a tick, hasn't it?
[Video]
By now, though, they'd probably assume that I've been either taken captive or killed. Likely killed if Psi Division couldn't find a trace. They'll probably have stopped looking rather than waste resources when there's no clues.
[She pauses.]
Except Judge Dredd. Dredd would look for me, when he had the time.
[He looked out for her. He'd been there when she needed someone. And she had few illusions that she was on the Council for any other reason but his word.]
[Video]
Good. Everyone deserves someone to watch their back.
no subject
Time was, that'd be Roake, just with Dredd breathing down his neck for results.
[A small ghost of a smile flickers across America's face before it settles back into the neutral scowl she wears for most comm conversations.]
He's dead now. No use considering what-might-have-beens.
no subject
I'm sorry.
no subject
[Interesting how many people in the Legion are chipped and broken in ways from a lack of friends or family back home, America thinks. Totally ignoring her own damage.]
There are more pressing things to deal with now.
no subject
[She says it gently, but she's not going to press a stranger about their trauma. She has plenty of her own that she doesn't want to discuss or acknowledge.]
no subject
[There was a lot of small luxuries like that she couldn't afford herself.]
I've already accepted it. No one I work with is going to die of old age. It's the life that was chosen for us.
no subject
[She's not sure if she agrees with the idea that mourning is a luxury. Maybe they have different ideas about what mourning entails.
That's a philosophical conversation she's not willing to engage with a stranger.]
Chosen for you?
no subject
[The Judges have very twisted ideas on what they are and aren't allowed to think, say, or feel. The Law must be impartial.]
Of course. Judge Cadets are sent to be raised by the Academy of Law when they're five years old. Children that age aren't quite old enough to make a choice like that on their own.
no subject
[She's looking for a word. A polite word, that isn't completely insulting but still conveys how she feels.]
...dodgy.
no subject
Got to get them young. Take them any older and they start to get ideas about the world. Get rebellious. Five years old is the perfect time to mold a juve's mind and start them on the fifteen year journey to becoming a Judge.
Most parents that send them to us are only too happy to get rid of their children. Or can't care for them anyway. Lack of money, illness, sense of patriotism, in the cubes, dead...