thelegion | [ TEXT ] SENDING OUT AN S.O.S. TO THE WORLD

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[ TEXT ] SENDING OUT AN S.O.S. TO THE WORLD

Quick Check in for Members of Project Freelancer, the UNSC, and our mutual associates- or anyone that wants to get word out about themselves having changed or not changed or...whatever. Has questions? This is Agent York and Delta, so far we're unaffected by this time ripple thing. Connie, North, Wash, Grif, Chief, Theta, Cortana, Locus, Azucar, Parker, Pidge, Fareeha, Amélie - and anyone else I'm forgetting, shoot me a text back, alright?

I'll deliver pancakes and blankets or other care package items if needed. If you'd rather come talk in person swing by my habitat, I'll be hanging in the bar. Directions are below. Also, Jason- buddy? Swing by, I feel like I owe you a beer.

[ In neat green lines there's a little holographic map showing how to get to York's dive bar from the recipient's current location, wherever they might be. ]

Specific refreshments are available upon request.

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It's a recent hobby- [ He peers through the screen, scarred cornea and all. The 'York' is- well it's habitual and hard to forget he's trying to go by Taylor now, he'll let it slide. ] You want pancakes or waffles when you get in? I got the griddle going.

Waffles are always welcome. Explains how you got dibs on such a good spot-

[Connie glances at the omnicom as she replies, but her grin falls when she sees his face.]

-Holy shit, what happened to your eye?

...frag grenade during a lockdown paint exercise. [ God he's gonna be saying that a lot, isn't he? ] Welcome to the purpose of the call: Time Distortion shenanigans and you. I got a briefing packet to explain shit when you get here.

...Wait, what? [Who the hell snuck in the live rounds? They should know better. Frowning deeply, Connie nods and starts to pick up the pace. She's got lots of questions now, and the sooner she gets answers the better.]

I'll be there soon.

[The familiar static zip of Connie's short range teleport punctuates every couple of steps as she double times it to the bar from York's coordinates. When she reaches the door she pushes it in as she catches her breath, glancing around for any other familiar faces.]

[ The waffles are just about done by the time she gets in. Delta's holographic projection is busy flicking through screens, compiling data for Connie's personal infopacket while York plates up a stack. More than the eye-

There's some hard years on this body. Scars. Wrinkles. A little grey. Nothing too terrible, though, just some hard and lean living. ]

Hey short-stuff.

Wow. Real original, there.

[Really, York? She lifts her hand in a mock salute as she steps in, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark interior, and the changes in York himself. He's definitely not the same Agent York she knows... and what or who is that hologram? Eyes flickering from the hologram to the screens and the stack of waffles Connie strides up to take a seat by the pair, resting her elbows against the counter as she just watches them for a few moments.]

So. Time weirdness?

Yep. [ A trio of flavored syrups is offered over along with the plate and a mug of coffee. ] People are sliding up and down their personal timelines. Some remember being a part of the legion, some don't. So far I'm unaffected and to that end: I'm playing the responsible adult.

It's.

Stressful.

So you're kind of the designated driver, huh?

[Connie accepts the plate with a nod, pouring some fruit syrup over her waffles before she cuts herself a bite. God, when was the last time they were given leave and went to a diner?]

Legion. I guess I... [She pauses, lifting the hand with the ring on it to stare at the symbol thoughtfully.] I don't remember getting here but from what I've seen of it so far, it's like if an amusement park and the Vegas quadrant had a planet sized baby. But with superheroes?

Yep. Figure it's high time since I owe y'all for pulling my ass out of the fire so often.

[ Drunken young him is a jackass that does shit first and thinks never. Bad Idea Bear York. He's an older, mellower(ish) version of himself. He thinks. He hopes.

CT's explanation has York choking on his coffee, snorting in rough laughter. ]

I- I mean- you're not entirely wrong?

Hey, whatever it is, I'm not complaining. Super powers included with admission is pretty damn sweet.

[Connie grins and takes a few more bites of her waffles, washing the sweetness down with a sip of coffee]

Might take me a while to get used to you being all responsible and all.

Call it 'making up for past mistakes'. [ Being Carolina's second should've meant he kept up with everyone, made sure they upped their game, made sure they were a team. Not...chased her tail and try to keep his slot to the exclusion of all else. ] It won't last, trust me. This'll end and I'll go back to pitching terrible ideas at you.

Should I start keeping a tally, then?

[Connie snorts.]

Is it like a punch card? Give five terrible ideas and pitch another for free! But then the important question is, what kind of terrible ideas are they? Now I'm interested.

God, we'll be here all day, don't get me started.

[ He snorts a quiet laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. It's harder to reach back for those ideas right now, so wound up in keeping tabs on everyone-

Stressful in a familiar and almost comforting way. ]

Mostly they involve alcohol.

Oh really.

[Connie rests her chin in her palm, elbow leaning against the counter as she grins.]

Thinking of pulling a Casbah 2.0? Because that was fun.

[She assumes, anyway. The hangover the next day and the smattering of photographic and voice clip evidence certainly says so.]

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[ TEXT ] SENDING OUT AN S.O.S. TO THE WORLD

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