legionmissions | Out With the Old [modplot]

Entry tags:

Out With the Old [modplot]

Who| Everyone who signed up
What| The rescue of the NPC Legionnaires
Where| A movie studio in New New York
When| Takes place the same time as "Books of Magic"
Warnings/Notes| N/a

The studio where the Legionnaires are being held is swarming with supervillains. It's a trap, of course. But that doesn't mean they have to walk right into it. They have a plan, and now it's time to put it into action.

The Legion of Supervillains are expecting the non-native Legionnaires to be pushovers. They're about to discover just how crushingly, devastatingly wrong they are.

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Where he nudges her gun to the side, her wrist turns along with it - slack and easy and as permissive as a predator sheathing claws, her attention still fully fixed on the contours of his helmet as if trying to read him through its visor.

Her lips purse, she says nothing for a beat before adding, carefully: "And Locus...?"

"Locus doesn't belong here any more than you do." Felix cocks his head, as though that should have be obvious to anyone. "The Freelancers want to turn him into a pet project, right? Redeem him or some bullshit, pat themselves on the back about how fucking noble they are. But you've seen what he can do, right? A place like this is just gonna limit him."

He drifts, by this point, shifting to walk around her -- and hey, look how he could be stabbing her right now and isn't -- before closing the gap, pressing into her space.

"If I still know him at all...this place is just gonna turn him into a time bomb. Don't know if you actually care about him at all, but me? I'd rather not see that happen."

No. His revenge would be a much more personal sort. But she doesn't need to hear the details on that, not right his second.

Even as he drifts, her stare doesn't drop or falter for even a second. Years of practice when it comes to making questionable deals in dark, dark corners. This time it takes longer, the obvious scrutiny (based entirely in logical measurements: Locus' trauma versus his reality, the memories she'd seen and exactly where it lands now in comparison to Felix himself— and more importantly his offer) followed up by a shift in where she's standing so that she's facing him instead.

Disappointing, maybe, if not for the fact that Sombra uses it as a means to show him the full arc of her gun as she slides it into its holster with a soft, somber click.

You want to make a deal? Your turn, Felix.

Now that's more like it. She's as smart as she looks. Undeniably pleased, Felix presses on.

"So I tell you what I'll do. One question, any question, you get a free answer. Sign of good faith and all that. You can even fact-check it if you're feeling saucy. You turn around and head your way, I'll head mine. When this is over? I'll be in touch. And you can have any story you want to hear...in exchange for a few small details of my own. More than fair for classified info only the dead and the Freelancers have access to, don't you think?"

Which leaves only one question unanswered. The exit strategy. She's not going to want to sit under the Legion's thumb forever, just long enough to finish whatever game she's got running.

"Then, when you want a safe spot to watch the fireworks go off? I'll make it happen. We can bring this whole thing down around their ears. All it's gonna take is a little mutual trust, and we both get what we want."

"Deal." It's an easy scoff, exhaled with a shrug of her shoulders and the open offer of an outstretched hand to secure their arrangement, lip curling upwards at the corner as the lights around them come flickering back to life— almost as if sensing the easing slack of their truce. She could do worse, after all.

Granted, not much worse, but still...

"Shame we don't have any tequila to drink to this."

"Always next time."

It's a little too easy, but with his powers and his ego? There's no way he doesn't believe this is working out exactly the way he wants it to. Someone on the inside to wreck his revenge for him, and a way to get Locus out the back door when no one's looking.

It's too perfect. Why wouldn't he take that hand, even knowing perfectly well what she's capable of doing with it?

For a little while? It was working. In fact, it did. If he'd turned up sooner— been there before Locus had a chance to take hold— the truth in Felix's offer would have seemed too valuable to resist.

In the end, though, her ego's as swollen as his own: maybe it'll take longer, prove harder, but she's sure down to the marrow that she'll get the answers she's looking for without anyone holding the answers over her head like a reward. Sombra came from nothing and won herself everything.

Temptation won't negate that now.

And instead, as his fingers close around her own, she latches on with that digital spark, cruelly chasing the operational systems that maintain his armor and working to shut them down before luck even has a chance to factor into the equation.

"Psych."

Oh son of a--

There's no time even to speak, and the comms in the helmet are muted as Sombra's little spark works through the armor. Immediately it locks up, locks down, the vision on his HUD blacking out, leaving him frozen in place.

She can still doubtlessly hear at least a portion of the things he's calling her under the helmet, just the same.

"Aww...pobrecito." Sombra hums, feeling that heavy weight immediately slough right off her shoulders with every muffled snarl. There's time, at least, before she needs to bolt and finish dispensing support to the rest of the Legionnaires (if they fail in their mission, she'll have shot herself in the foot with this, after all); she seizes the opportunity to gently pat the front of his chest, and—

Oh. Hey. Souvenirs.

"Don't take it personally, vato. Between you and me? Locus made the better choice."

Pocketing a pair of those knives, she shrugs, pursing her lips in the galaxy's most charming little grin despite the fact that he likely can't see it, heading out the single exit she'd left herself and sparing a few extra seconds to lock it behind her. Later on, once they've taken care of the rest of his allies, she'll send someone back to pick him up.

Oh. He's going to burn her for this. So, so hard. Bitch has no idea what's coming for her.

That's the thought he satisfies himself with as, luck would have it, something sparks and starts to reboot the armor inside. Well that's a start. He can't move just yet, but a cursor blinks on his HUD against the black. Hello, and welcome. Would you like to run the tutorial?

"MOTHERFU--"

Sombra makes it about five feet before a figure fades in out of camouflage beside her.

He'd worried, for a moment. Felix at his most charming could be devastating. Hell, he'd fallen for his lines more than once, without the aid of this newfound power of his. But Sombra had seen right through him, and now?

He honestly feels a little spark of hope. That's new. He'll hold onto that, for the time being.

"You shouldn't face him alone, next time," he grumbles.

That, she hadn't expected, and it shows on her face when she tilts her head to take him in— smirking conspiratorially just a beat later.

"Next time I won't have to." She doesn't know how long he'd been listening in, or how much he'd gleaned (how close she'd come to compromising), but in the end, she figures it doesn't really matter. Tugging up the first knife she'd stolen, Sombra holds it out to him as a gift.

If anyone deserves a trophy, it's him.

He stares at it a moment, grateful she can't see the expression on his face. The way it twists seeing that weapon, the physicality of Felix right there in front of them. He's back. He's alive, he...

Locus might throw up. But he reins it in, quietly taking the knife from her and carefully stowing it on his own armor. A splash of orange against the steel gray and sage green.

"No. You won't."

A beat, and then.

"...you did well."

"I know."

Ruining the moment with her own smugness, that's the ~~Azúcar~~ Sombra way. Which, carrying on that legacy: once Locus is finished tucking the knife away as a bright badge across the front of his armor, Sombra snakes her arm around his own and rests her head against him for good measure.

"I mean if I didn't we'd both be kind of screwed, right?"

"You really have no idea."

He grumps because he cares, Sombra. Accept that this is the only way he knows how to people around those that are important to him.

He doesn't push her away -- the armor is not going to be comfortable to cuddle with for very long, he doesn't have to -- but the frown is obvious in his voice.

"The compulsion. That's new. He's been convincing before, but...nothing like that."

It's such a quick spark, that comment. A match held up to her curiosity, enough that Sombra snaps her head up entirely of her own volition, foregoing the gentle teasing she'd intended to put him through for at least the next minute.

"Compulsion." She knew it. She knew it - there was something about Felix's arguments that'd stuck too well, dug too deep. She'd liked him, listened to him in spite of the fact that she'd sworn with vindictive pride to Wash himself that she'd put a bullet between Felix's eyes if he ever turned up.

For a little while Sombra wondered if this was all in her head, if he really was just that good.

"Did you feel it, too?"

"Yes. His offer seemed reasonable. For a moment..."

For a moment he thought she'd take him up on it, and he couldn't have blamed her. He'd basically offered her everything she could ask for on a silver platter, and all she had to give in return was her trust.

He remembered when he could be that convincing without his powers. When they were both struggling to return to life as civilians, and he came back around. Mentioned he knew a guy. Knew how they could find purpose again.

All he had to do...

"He might have followed through." It's worth saying. Worth telling her what she might have just given up on.

She tilts her head from side to side as if nodding in thoughtful agreement: even with his voice gone and well out of earshot, she has to admit, it wasn't a bad bargain. The agreement favored her more than it did him outright.

"Maybe."

Why bother telling her this now? Even without his helmet there to obscure his face, she finds him somewhat unreadable. It's a weird hand to play after a resounding win for their side.

"You know, for somebody that supposedly did him in, he seemed pretty invested in getting you back."

"We worked well together. With his newfound power, it would be easy to return to the way things were before."

Whether that's all he meant to do once that was achieved? Who knew. But the alien AI had been quite specific. Felix needed him. It was the reason for the nudges, the lies, the manipulation.

Sad thing was beyond that? It really hadn't been so bad. Not all of the time.

"...We were partners." And there's as little inflection in his tone there as he can manage.

"Being partners isn't marriage, mijo." It's a tactless comment, but Sombra's tone— her intonation— seems more personal than critical: much as she owed her life to Los Muertos, she isn't there still fighting the good fight alongside them. It's a simple truth kept framed in the back of her mind like a reminder when the urge sinks in to cling to comfort.

Nothing lasts forever.

"He could have found somebody else, if he wanted to." Her lips purse together tightly for a beat, let out on a low exhale. "And if what he needs is to control you, I don't regret getting in his way."

It wasn't all bad.

He shakes that feeling away silently before nodding once. What she's done here, he won't soon forget. He doesn't need to fall back under Felix's sway even if it might still be somewhat tempting. It would be easier. It would be simpler.

But this is his choice.

"He will use anyone he can to get what he wants. And now I doubt I am his sole target." A significant look there. She's just spat in his eye, and his pride won't allow for that to go without retaliation. He knows him too well for that.

"What." There's something typical about how quick she is to dismiss his warning, shrugging it off as if she'd hardly heard him at all. Her shoulders shrug; she looks entirely uninterested in discussing it.

"You want me to tell you I'll be careful or something? Vato, no me hagas reír." Nothing in this world or any other is going to keep her from getting her way. Certainly not fear. "He's fine. I triple locked the doors and he can't reach the panel to unlock them from the ground floor."

Piece of cake. Vegan space cake.

"Once we're done here? We'll send somebody else back to pick him up. Es fácil."

"They'll need to be warned what he's capable of."

It'd be a shame if they forgot to do that, and Felix somehow managed to slip through the cracks and escape. He was here now, here. Not dead, not a universe away, alive and here. It weighs on him.

Luckily, it appears he has allies that can deal with him easily enough.

"They can wear earplugs."

Is that a joke?

...probably not.

If it works, it works. Provided they have something like that handy. He's not prepared to scoff at anything regarding this situation, at any rate.

Too many things can go wrong. Too much at risk. Not a situation he likes by any means.

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Out With the Old [modplot]

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