legionworld | Didya catch that trick?

The swear-in ceremony had been a little bittersweet, if Lena was being honest with herself. Even with the recall out to the other Overwatch agents, not many of them had answered -- international affairs, coupled with the PETRAS act tying their hands and the bitterness stewing in how swiftly they had all been shut down meant the risk was too great. The Second Omnic Crisis was being contained in Russia for the moment -- until it threatened the interest of other countries (and it would, if history had anything to say about it), something like the ceremony she had just walked away from would never have been possible.

Home would need her back eventually -- but for now, it was easy to remember that there were others closer that needed her help right now.

She doesn't draw as many looks on Legion World; part of her is glad for it. Aside from the fact that she was so distinctly recognizable as one of the world's heroes at home, those who hadn't kept up with all the pomp and circumstance usually took a second look at the chronal accelerator. To be somewhere where she almost blends is a surreal feeling, but it means she's smiling all the way up to the wall of screens as she consults them for information. The interface is easy enough to read, but more importantly, she feels the need to introduce herself to everyone in the room.

A few people walk up to her on their own, but every now and then, she'll slide into a space that's not too personal, but that can't be ignored either, and offer a question in her chipper cockney accent:

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

Observation Deck

She had been a lot of places all over the world, but space -- that was a different story. There was no need for Overwatch agents out there, not when the omniums down below were causing the world so many problems just a few years prior. So Lena is naturally drawn to the deck, eyes wide behind her goggles when she gets a full view of all the stars.

There had been a few places in the world where she could see them as clearly as she could now. King's Row wasn't one of them. She feels like she's twelve again, one hand curled around the ring slotted on her finger. It had taken her a few tries to figure it out, but she was flying again. Sometimes, she had forgotten how much she had missed it. Freefalling through the chronal acceleration Winston had given her came close -- but this was different.

"Wicked."

The echo of footsteps draws her attention back to the catwalk, and when she turns, she has all the appearance of a child who's just been given their haul of Christmas Gifts.

"You alright down there, love?"

Habitat Deck/King's Row

Its easy to get lost in a deck full of multiple pocket areas to explore. Every now and then, a flash of blue will appear and disappear as Lena makes her way across the deck, excitedly dipping into wherever she can managed to fit herself. Its addicting, seeing new things -- and some re-imaginations of places she is certain she should recognize.

It takes her a few tries, but Tracer eventually figures out that just walking into the biomes of others might be a bit rude. When that moment comes, she returns to where she had started: King's Row. Her old stomping grounds, as she often used to say. Without Overwatch, she'd found herself spending a lot of time there, trying to help who she could without getting into too much vigilantism. The fact of the matter was that law enforcement couldn't catch her if they'd tried, but that didn't mean she wanted to ruffle too many feathers. England was still her home country; she'd never aim to upset them on purpose.

She finds a familiar balcony, above the entrance to the Alderworth Hotel, and parks herself there. Its strange, seeing it so empty, and she suddenly finds herself feeling homesick.

When Valor Day comes, she spends at least half of her morning making sure her space fits the part. Today, she is slower to greet anyone who happens to find their way to her. In record time, she's managed to do most of her own decorating in the form of wreathes on various doors and garland strung across the briefing room where she's set up her cot temporarily. She can be found blinking around in brief flashes of blue in order to get to higher and higher places to hang her decorations.

Dangerous, with all the snow and ice around? Probably.

Wildcard

[OOC: Got something else in mind? Different location, or a spin off of one of the other prompts? Go for it! Tracer is extremely friendly, and will want to walk up and introduce herself to everyone without much prompting. If you're not sure, feel free to hit me up at stabs]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Pft, rubbish. I can keep m'self in the air, that's about it," Lena replies, politely. To demonstrate, she tries to do a flip, and ends up on her back. When she can't right herself immediately, she takes a moment to simply float there and hold out her arms.

"See? Flyin' ain't exactly in me skillset -- not this kind, anyway."

"It does seem to be kind of a mind over matter thing," she chuckles under her breath, letting herself settle into somewhat of a floating sit in the air.

"You usually fly by other means? Are you a pilot?"

"I was, few years back. Prolly still got it in me, if I gave it a shot," Lena offers, trying to right herself as she does. Eventually, she manages a bit of a lazy hover, upright and able to speak without all of her blood rushing to her head.

"I work in the field now."

From what Connie knew of pilots, at least any that were like 479-er, they don't ever stop flying. Then again, pulling the stunts that Niner does and saving their asses all the time, that's gotta be one heck of an adrenaline rush.

"What's the field work like?"

"It ain't much these days," Lena starts to reply with, before realizing that she doesn't exactly have to hide the fact that she was still doing field work. With the PETRAS act in place, it would have typically endangered her (and Winston and Emily) to discuss any of it. But, as far as she can tell, the Legion doesn't care.

So she bites her lip, and changes course.

"I guess you could call me a peacekeeper. Anythin' the bobbies can't manage, I get a grip on myself. I do most of my work alone now, unfortunately." She offers a slightly tired but wholly genuine smile. "Used to stuff rogue robot armies before that."

Robot armies? That gets an interested look from Connie as she returns the smile with a small one of her own.

"I know what that's like. Not with robots though, we had aliens." she says, giving a little shrug as she averts her gaze back to the starscape in front of them, "It's...been a while since I was last part of a team. I'm hoping this time it turns out better."

"Aliens, huh? Too bad," Lena replies, all in good nature with the lightest of smiles. "Guess they weren't all that friendly either. Reckon that woulda been wicked, if they were."

She'd asked Winston about space a lot, but he never had much to say about it. It was hard for her to understand why at the time -- but she'd never been one to push friends into discomfort for the sake of her own curiosity. Speaking of which, its easy for her to sense Connie's coupled reluctance regarding her new team.

"I know all about that. How's it been treatin' you so far?"

"We probably could have learned a lot from each other," Connie agrees with a resigned shrug. It is what it was, and Connie'd never see the resolution of the war.

"Well...I haven't put myself out there much lately to meet a lot of new people. There are some familiar faces from home here, and we didn't...part on the best of terms. I don't think they'd be happy to see me."

To put it lightly.

"Ooooh..." Lena's face falls when she says it. She liked to believe she was a fairly forgiving soul, but without context, she can't really make a call on how to reply other than to pass her condolences in the most neutral way possible.

"Well, let's fix that, shall we? Name's Oxton -- Lena Oxton. They call me Tracer 'round here." Lena extends her hand in mid-air in an attempt to wave off the heavier atmosphere. "What about you, love?"

That's...probably the sweetest thing someone's done for her in a while. Connie doesn't regret her decision that lead her to where she is now but it had alienated her from the people who had been her closest friends for years. A fresh start would help her move on from it.

She extends her hand to give Tracer's a shake, giving the woman a small smile, "Mirage is the name I picked but you can call me Connie."

"Connie it'is," she says, still beaming with a bright smile. Its easy to be sympathetic to her plight -- after all, when Winston had initiated the Recall, Lena had hoped more of her old acquaintances would come around for it and they hadn't. Maybe she hadn't gotten along with as many of them as she'd thought.

But that was neither here nor there.

"You know, there's an awful lot of people 'round here. You'll find yourself plenty of mates to get on with. And you're always welcome here -- so long as the weather ain't a bother."

It's hard not to smile when Lena is just so damn chipper. Connie's never used the word before and only knows it because of Wyoming but damn if it doesn't suit her.

"That's kind of you, Lena. Thank you."

Didya catch that trick?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject