MURDERWORLD [mod plot] [Reunion/Rescue]

[letsgolegion]

Who| Everyone who wants in
What| The reunion/rescue of the folks in Murderworld
Where| The Temperate Zone
When| Day 3, at the very end of the arena
Warnings/Notes|

Thanks to the heroes that broke into Arcade's control room, the arena was officially over, and now that the Science Police and Legion had been contacted, people were being gathered up in an area in the temperate Zone and being extracted by portable threshold gates. A first aid station had been set up to triage those who needed immediate emergency care and patch up what injuries they could to hold people over until they got home.

Grief counselors were already on standby to help the Legionnaires and Harrubian dissidents and their families deal with the crisis they had just faced.

Arcade had already been taken away by the Science Police to face trial for multi-murder, and while some of the raw footage of the arena had already been uploaded to the UP internet, the Legionnaires had made the best of a bad situation.

The fact of the matter was every Legionnaire that had been kidnapped had survived. Arcade had been stopped. Almost all of Arcade's "Tributes" had been killed or detained by the Legionnaires and some of the Harubbian dissidents. The arena had ended on Day 3 instead of Day 30, which had saved dozens of lives. And the upload of the raw footage had been stopped mid-stream so that only a few people would have to deal with their ordeal becoming public knowledge.

Now it was time for friends and teammates to reunite and for everyone to head back to the safety of Legion World.

[ooc: Anyone can start a thread, regardless of whether they're a Legionnaire that was in the arena, or a Legionnaire outside the arena checking up on their friends.]

Comments

[goddamngrenades]

"A nice change of pace except, yeah. That." And as much as he slings his hands in his pockets and smirks, as much as he tries to keep an easy eye on things- that thought pings in among the rattling of patterns and variables in the back of his head as well. That one irregular point of data might become the norm. Winning streaks don't always last, all that. But- they've got some kind of a support network for when shit goes wrong, it looks like.

Medics and grief counseling. Shit they didn't have on the front, shit they sure as hell didn't have during the project.

"He's not gonna tell me anything about what went down but- uh." Feels weird to ask THE chief this. "You alright?"

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief nods. "I've been worse." It's his usual answer now, shrugging off the issue, and it probably says something very negative about his life as a whole that it's true.

"Arcade expected us to kill one another or die in the arena. He didn't account for how stubborn we are."

He eyes the perimeter they've set up speculatively.

"The whole place was full of traps and monsters. We'd find one another and team up, then he'd have to use his teleportation array to separate us again before we could break anything. After three days he stopped being able to keep up with all of us at once, and we broke into the infrastructure."

[goddamngrenades]

"...I probably do not wanna know what went down to make Spartans so damn effective, do I?" Considering how fucked up the Project had been? He'd have good money on the system that actually fucking worked being just as screwed up and awful. Progress doesn't come from sparkling scientists with bloodless hands and clear ethics.

Bitches get shit done. It applies to more than just the office.

All that and, goddamn. York turns his head to look back in the direction where Wash bolted, frowning. No fucking wonder seeing him again had set him off. or. Just about set him off. "Maybe I should give him two weeks."

[prettycoolguy]

"Good training. Good equipment. Always ate our veggies, growing up." That's the secret. Tell no one. York's right, but the Chief doesn't intend to tip his hand about just how right he is. It's a joke, but it's also a none-of-your-business. The Chief hopes he can avoid explaining the Spartan program to anyone ever again. He's not ashamed of it, and still believes it was necessary, but he's not eager to lay it out there for people who won't understand to pick it over.

"It's up to you, just so long as he pulls himself together first." He'll stick by a week, it feels like a good estimate. Maybe on the conservative side, but that can't hurt, right?

"Thank you."

York listened to him, and they're both obviously operating from a place of concern. This situation could have been a lot worse, from how it looked.

[goddamngrenades]

That's as much confirmation as it is evasion and York? Isn't prying. His lips twist in a wry grin, nodding. "You know that's what we didn't have enough of in the Project? Veggies. It was all protein powder all the time."

Shoulda known, damn.

How much worse it was, however more fucked up it is? right now he doesn't want to know. The human race doesn't get a hail mary kind of saviour when things are done by the book. He knows that well enough- it's no excuse for what gets done, but it's lorded over them often enough. In the face of certain extinction, all that.

"No problem, chief. I shoulda let him go when he walked away the first time. I'm just-" He gestures, vaguely. "Used to being the older one."

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief makes a little pointing gesture when York talks about the protein powder. Well there's your problem, obviously. The source of all of Freelancer's troubles, finally found.

Wash is away, he understands what was happening here, and York knows who he is. The Spartan line of inquiry might not be gone forever, but it's set aside for now. That's good enough for the Chief.

"I'm going to get back to the perimeter," he says. "If you need anything else from me, that's where I am."

Because he could be taking it easy, it's what he's probably supposed to be doing, but the Chief is happier trying to do his job. He always is.

[goddamngrenades]

"Ooh-rah." Mini fist pump, dry and deadpan and drawling. Work to be done, all that. "I'll...get back to helping people to the medics." It's what he'd been doing, being a friendly, calming face, helping people unwind and maybe laugh a little now that they're out of that kind of hell.

That much is also kinda familiar.

Shouldn't be, but it is.

"Take care, Chief. And uh-" A beat. "Thanks."

For saving the world. For keeping him from pushing harder than he was with Wash. for watching out for the Rookie- though the last is pretty damn pointless seeing as he's got no real right to thank anyone for doing what he failed so goddamn miserably at years ago.