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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, I got that impression myself." He lets York pull back, reassured by the return to the job, to some semblance of focus. After this, they can talk, but right now the situation doesn't give them that kind of luxury. He steps back, canting his head to the right at the spot where his brain tells him that Theta is, even if he doesn't flicker into view until halfway through his question. "What do you say, Theta. Think we can keep watch for our infiltration specialist here?"

"Can we stay close? I don't know how big we can make the shield yet."

"Good thinking, Theta." North situates himself at the best happy medium between line of sight and shield range that he can reasonably manage in a basement, nestling the stock of his rifle in against his shoulder, ready to aim and shoot.

Edited 2017-02-11 10:23 (UTC)

"Y'all did get the 'no killing' memo, right?" Because if there's one thing little theta is surprisingly adept at with all the enthusiasm of a child with a new cool trick to show off- it's an efficient and relatively painless demise for all threats in the general area. Paired with North's rather...creative means of dispatching most targets?

Yeah.

This'll be more than an adjustment for just him.

Delta's voice clips through the comms, almost warm. "It is good to have you here, Theta."

The one sibling he LIKED.

"I know I feel better with you both keeping an eye on me." He gives the invisible AI and his buddy a quick salute before diving back in, things clicking right back into place like it's six years ago and everything's normal.

"Yep, loud and clear." He doesn't sound exactly thrilled about it, but hey. His life has been occasionally-inane rules for years now. No changes there.

Theta flickers closer, from in front of North's shoulder to behind it, though Delta isn't visible alongside York like he's used to. Another thing not quite as expected, and there's a second of uncertain quiet and the ever-present we're okay, don't worry of North's thoughts pressed to the borders of his, both steadier for the even pushback.

"Hello, Delta." He shifts restlessly, looking between North and York. "-are we allowed to talk now?"

"Don't see why not." North's voice is softer, but still easy, relaxed in the familiar focus of standing guard. "York?"

"Sure, Theta. It's just us here and we're all friends. Delta's up a level helping out a friend with the systems." He taps a small module he'd set in the panel that holds Delta's chip, safe from any explosion or EMP. He'd almost forgotten how shy and tentative little Theta could be, the reassurance clearly is needed. "No projector in this thing, but he'll come out and say Hi proper when we're all done, right bud?"

"Correct." As though to make up for his visible absence, Delta's voice softens somewhat. "We have much to discuss- if he and Agent North are comfortable I could perhaps introduce him to some friends I have made in the Legion."

York huffs a soft laugh. "And he could show them his firework trick."

North doesn't even try to suppress a small noise of bemusement. York going out of his way to make Theta feel comfortable and acknowledged isn't new, but aside from that, a few days ago it was Project Freelancer protocol all the way. And now Delta's offering to introduce Theta to his friends? Delta has friends that aren't York?

"North?"

"I think that sounds nice. Sure. Make some friends." A scuttling noise, and he narrows his eyes, releasing a quiet sigh when his thermals stay cool. Just debris settling. "-after the mission."

"Okay!" He blips back out of sight, back into the tumble of being more palpable than audible, though he keeps his voice at the ready on the comms.

"It oughta be pretty quiet down here, I mean. All the action is going on upstairs, no one's gonna mind me pok'n around." Except for the explosion that nearly killed him. Yeah. That was a thing. "So- I gotta ask."

Because Freelancers are all creative in their own special way but rarely does that translate to picking appropriate names. "Powers and Hero name? I'm Locksmith, here."

He'll give North the rundown on what he can do in a bit.

"Hardball. Not much different from before, except my shield doesn't need hardware to activate and I can see thermals without the HUD if I focus right." As far as he understands it, anyway, he's not really going into detail about the fact that he's only been using these for about a day and he's still getting the hang of activating and manipulating a shield with Theta more of a gentle suggestion and less actually at the wheel.

"..." Okay just gonna. Turn from where he's working, fingers still finessing their way through wires and. Stare for a second because North.

Buddy.

"...Hardball." Dear god his friends are all nerds. "Hard. Ball. You just- set yourself up for dirty jokes for days with the fandom, dude."

"Okay. First of all, it's baseball. And ammunition." And catchy, he'd thought. As catchy as he was going to get when someone asked him for a nickname when he was still reeling from the massive culture shock of it all.

"Second of all, fandom?"

"And all the ball jokes in the galaxy." This is his best friend. THIS ASSHOLE HERE is his best friend. He needs to look at his life and his choices because god and damn. God. And. Damn.

"Yeah we're widely publicized and have a media presence. We're kind of celebrities so- there's a fandom. There's shipping and fanfic and fanart and it's kind of crazy- HA!" A twist and flick and they're in the system properly. "There we go. D, piping you the readout- cut all external broadcasting, activate any dormant cameras and feed everything to Cortana for our live tracking app."

"If it's that important, they really need a better PR team," he comments, half to himself, more careless than the situation probably calls for. So he's going to be a celebrity with a name that's ridiculously easy to make dirty jokes about. He already went through his entire pre-freelancer life named after an angel, it can't be that much worse.

He listens to the triumphant chatter and relaxes, slowly, because that's another thing that stacks up into the Definitely York column. It's easy to see how they got him into the Project - nothing hits him quite like a job well done, doubly if it's a brand-new challenge for him. "Need an escort back into the action?"

"I've kinda benched myself." Uncharacteristic, but- yeah. "We need objectivity. Disarm, disable, arrest- all that jazz. But they've got my CO and hurt 'em for shits and giggles and I'm...not all that objective right now."

He's trying to do better. To BE better. "Better not to tempt old habits, you know? But there's another console in the next wing I need to get to. Maybe running through the footage of their setup will tell us more that we don't know. Give us some knowledge to drop on the rest of the team."

"Wow." North gives a tip of his head, stepping aside so York can lead the way. Better if he follows behind and puts more of his focus on thermals than the dozens of other considerations of taking point. "Look at you. Finally one of the good guys, huh."

If there's a hint of teasing, at least it smooths over his incredulity at York making that kind of turnaround. After what they'd been up to in Project Freelancer, something as simple as an oath not to kill is practically Boy Scout territory.

"Kinda had time to look back over what we did in the project and make a few judgement calls." This place, these people? They're as legit as he can figure. And that's worth falling in line for, even if he'd rather just put a bullet in those assholes and call it a day.

he doesn't get it, but he doesn't have to.

He just needs to do his job and get people out of here.

Panel sealed he nudges North with his shoulder, all easy and companionable, on the way out and heads for the hallway. So far? All clear.

"You seem to like the chain of command well enough. That has to help." He can't imagine York seeing red enough to question his judgment if someone had pinned down the Director on a live broadcast and started kicking the shit out of him. He would have performed his duty, sure, but York doesn't necessarily put his heart into something just because he has skin in the game. It's a trickier thing than that.

"They're good people." Which is a gross understatement but- he and Delta are partial to Kid Q and Brainy. "They actually care about their people, make sure we do our jobs, do it right, and keep each other on the level. They got a therapist here that isn't a fuckwit. They give us somewhere to live that's as close to home or whatever we want and a chance to actually save the goddamn universe- so."

He rolls his shoulders. "Yeah. I like 'em."

"So you got kidnapped into a better job." Only York, and he snorts softly, checking their six for anyone coming down for them. Nothing- maybe they set the traps and focused their energy on upstairs. He's not a supervillain expert.

"So what are you powers?"

"...yeeeeeeah." Or. Well. Resurrected BUT NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT, nope, focused on the job and the next set of security measures he'll have to mind. "Uh- well I got this charm power thing, I'm lucky, and I make grenades."

A wild constellation of skills, truly.

That sure as hell sounds like there's a catch, like for all that he likes his COs there's something deeply wrong with this gig, but North consigns that to a mental note-for-later. Now isn't the time for sitting around complaining about the particulars of the job.

"Fancy. So what, they have you talking your way out of tight corners instead of shooting your way out, now?"

"Pretty much- but this time it's more effective." Better lucky than good, better armed than not, better nonlethal than lethal. He slips down the last little leg of hallway and pops a squat next to a panel, tipping his head back to North. "Wanna look over this one so I don't blow myself up?"

"Mmm . . . nothing out of the ordinary," he pronounces after a slow scan of the area, though he stays a few steps back, watching York as he sets to work on the panel. "We can keep an eye on it until you're all the way into the system, though. A lot of this gear is pretty new to both of us."

"It's a lot easier to see a weapon that's activated," Theta chimes in, popping back into view over North's shoulder out of habit. "I'll keep looking."

Fingers along the seam, no tripwires- it'd been some kind of magnetic contact before but everything seems like it's the proper weight. Just gonna have to push his luck. There's a faint shift in the air, a prickling of skin even in their suits when he tugs the panel free-

And there's an explosive.

A dud.

Careful as he can manage he untangles and disconnects the detonator with a soft sigh. "Good to be lucky, huh?"

"Saves me some quick shield-throwing, anyway," he agrees, crouching along next to him and holding out his hand for the charge to get it well away from where York is working. "So you're just lucky all the time? Don't have to put any special effort into it?"

"I have to focus to make it happen. Small nudges help me tip the odds in my favor with minimal pushback. Big things? fifty fifty chance of it working out allright across the board- or of it biting me in the ass a big way. So. Constant gamble." He tips his head back enough to let North catch the angle that means he's smirking under the visor as he hands off the explosive. "So I can make a lucky shot or fall off a building, you know?"

"Sounds like business as usual to me," he jibes mildly, rolling the payload around in his hands to assess the size and weight of it before stepping back around the corner. A few safe turns of hall away and he tucks it into a shadowed corner, giving Theta an idle good job, buddy when he drops a pin on his HUD feed of the spot. Then he's back with York, keeping guard, watching through the ceiling for the occasional amorphous, almost-invisible red blur of poorly-defined battling figures. At least it's a solid foundation.

Out With the Old [modplot]

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