"Of course I was right. I'm always right." Rico's arrogant tone that says everything from 'nothing can go wrong, because I'm here' to 'relax, I got this.' might come as a familiar reassurance for Zenyatta, at least. He ignores the mechanical whirring of the orbs, but thinks he can almost feel how tense the droid is besides him. "I'm seeing files here that have Legion personnel on them," he continues, and it's a reflection of the standing Zenyatta has that he bothers to explain at all. "It's worth our time to see what data they have on us."
He hunches over the terminal, somewhat blocking Zenyatta's view. No telling what information they'd have on him, after all. He grins with a victorious aside of 'aha!' when he manages to access the files on him and Zenyatta first. Scrolling lines of text appear line by line, reflecting in his visor, and...
And Rico goes very quiet.
For a long moment, he stands there utterly still, more of a statue than a man, the air around them silent aside from the low hum of the generators in the room.
What breaks it is a shiver down his spine, a little motion that breaks his inaction. And as if that had triggered something, he then starts shaking uncontrollably, his hands rattling against the console it rests on, fingers curling inwards to hold it in. He jabs at the keys with desperation as though they'd change anything, until he's slamming his fist down on them, but forces himself to pull away before he can damage them. He's laughing, he thinks. But he can't be sure. His mouth is moving and his body is moving, but what he's doing, he doesn't know. He's not real. Just a drokking flash clone and he can imagine it now, he was that little clump of cells they saw in that tank just a few days ago, he's never been to Mega-City One, he's never ridden a Lawmaster across the Cursed Earth, he's never had a brother, he's just a defective thing cloned for a mission-
"Go look." he finally grates out, and he hates how small it sounds.
no subject
He hunches over the terminal, somewhat blocking Zenyatta's view. No telling what information they'd have on him, after all. He grins with a victorious aside of 'aha!' when he manages to access the files on him and Zenyatta first. Scrolling lines of text appear line by line, reflecting in his visor, and...
And Rico goes very quiet.
For a long moment, he stands there utterly still, more of a statue than a man, the air around them silent aside from the low hum of the generators in the room.
What breaks it is a shiver down his spine, a little motion that breaks his inaction. And as if that had triggered something, he then starts shaking uncontrollably, his hands rattling against the console it rests on, fingers curling inwards to hold it in. He jabs at the keys with desperation as though they'd change anything, until he's slamming his fist down on them, but forces himself to pull away before he can damage them. He's laughing, he thinks. But he can't be sure. His mouth is moving and his body is moving, but what he's doing, he doesn't know. He's not real. Just a drokking flash clone and he can imagine it now, he was that little clump of cells they saw in that tank just a few days ago, he's never been to Mega-City One, he's never ridden a Lawmaster across the Cursed Earth, he's never had a brother, he's just a defective thing cloned for a mission-
"Go look." he finally grates out, and he hates how small it sounds.