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

[goddamngrenades]

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.

Comments

[unrecovered]

[Honestly, the more time Wash has to think about the situation, the less he believes it. He must be dreaming or something - maybe he's injured and in medical, because his dreams are only ever this lucid when he's on some really good painkillers.]

[So he'll roll with it. He'll wake up eventually, probably groggy and in a world of hurt, and things will make sense again. For now, he follows York into the little house bar.]

Thanks. [A beat.] You said you had a debrief packet?

[goddamngrenades]

Yep. Cuz the more you know, the less likely you're gonna freak. Or at least that's the hope. Superhero types come with paranoia and baggage, who the fuck knew?

[ Like he's not one of those same types with the same kinda baggage. Still he pulls up the tablet with the packet and hands it over, Delta flickering to life over York's shoulder for a moment. ]

You have no memory of me?