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

Huh. Well, look at that. Teleporting ladies is nothing he's not used to, but the phrasing she'd used for it, that's piquing his curiosity.

Dave remains hovering for a moment, giving a low impressed whistle and he looks down at her, and then unceremoniously stops time in their immediate area, dropping to stand right behind her before letting time flow forward again. From anyone else's perception of things, it would appear that he'd done just the same as her, suddenly vanishing and reappearing on the catwalk.

"Fuckin' neato," he says, tone even and thoughtful. "So is it actually timey shit, or does it all just boil down to teleportation?"

He knows what "chronal" means. It's not an unreasonable guess.

Lena pauses, looking momentarily shocked and awed by Dave's little trick in spite of what she had just done. No one else that she ever knew was capable of controlling their own place in time -- by and large, her condition was only diagnosed because Winston was a genius, not because it was common.

"I don't know to much about it m'self, but--yeah. 'Timey'." Tracer replies, slightly breathless with delight, and equally amused at Dave's crass mannerisms. She couldn't have ever imagined that someone else might understand what she dealt with on a day to day basis. "Hang on--you havin' a laugh? Is this normal for you?"

That's an interesting reaction. She seems excited, if a little confused. Dave watches her curiously from behind the shades, thoughtful.

"Normal here, maybe. It's kid stuff compared to the shenanigans I could work back where I came from. They stuck me with fuckin' training wheels when I should be poppin' wheelies." He smirks very slightly and taps at his chest again, this time to actually indicate the symbol there. "See this? It means I've more or less got a practical PhD in time travel from the University of Complete Bullshit. Timey stuff is my expertise. Haven't seen anyone else here messin' around with it before, though."

Probably a good thing. He not yet sure of whether or not the time travel rules he's used to still apply here, and he doesn't trust the average asshole to not screw up and doom them all.

"Wicked!" Lena replies, just as delighted. She can't even begin to imagine the scope of 'time shit' that could be messed with. Just rewinding herself was enough of an insane feat that they'd only been able to replicate it in technology once -- and of course, that technology was stolen shortly after it had been built.

But that was neither here nor there.

"PhD huh? Know anything about chronal disassociation, Doc?"

One pale eyebrow arches over the rim of his shades, and Dave frowns slightly. Despite the bullshit that spills out of his mouth 90% of the time, he's smart. He knows what words mean.

"What, like, being disconnected from the timeline?"

What comes to mind first is John, zapping around and apparently changing their timeline without consequence.

"Maybe," he says after a moment, still frowning. "Fuck if I know how it happens, though."

"Don't think anyone has that answer. Hasn't really happened before, has it?" she offers, still smiling in spite of the somewhat sobering subject matter. It was worth a shot -- she figures that if Winston couldn't cure it completely, then there was no cure.

"Lets just say this beauty keeps everythin' in order."

"I mean, I know a guy who maybe had the same kind of thing." Dave shrugs, frown deepening slightly. "Maybe. Never got a chance to thoroughly grill him for details, though. Fucker was only lightly seared at best when he disappeared again and we didn't really get a chance to talk about it afterwards so consider that particular barbecue a waste of time..."

The end of that had drifted more towards mumbling, thoughtless babble while he zoned out for a second and thought about it a little more. He catches himself before delving into a fully fleshed out metaphor, however, and shrugs again as he looks back up at the woman. "Maybe if he ever shows up here. But I guess it's all pretty moot if you've got that thing, anyway."

It'd be nice to not have to worry about disappearing again, but she just met Dave, and that seems kind of like a downer of a conversation, so she just shrugs in response and keeps up her smile. "Guess so."

It dawns on her, as she's trying to piece out the idea that someone else understands time shit, that she hadn't introduced herself. "Oh sorry. Name's Tracer." She offers out her hand to shake.

"Dave," he answers, managing a quick shake before tucking his hands right back in his pockets. Frankly, he has no idea what to do with his hands right now otherwise. "Unless we're doing the superhero thing right now and that was a codename, in which case I go by Justin Time."

Justin Time. Tracer instantly launches into a fresh batch of delighted giggles. If only she'd been so creative! It was easier to just default to her Overwatch codename. It'd been a while since she'd gone by Lena -- not for any other reason aside from convenience. Or maybe it was just because that was what all the people who were frustrated with her presence in King's Row knew her by.

Either way, she doesn't offer it. Its obviously not important, or they wouldn't have had them pick alternate names in the first place.

"Justin' Time! That's brill!"

It does good things for his ego to get a positive reaction to that for once. Not that he doesn't love the rage it sometimes induces, of course -- Karkat's shitfit had been glorious. But it's kind of reminiscent of talking to Jade, having he laughing at whatever dumb shit he said and just taking him at face value.

Fuck. He misses the rest of his friends.

Still, he grins at Tracer's delight, and in a moment of indulgence even does the finger guns thing.

"About time someone thought so."

If Dave wants to keep the laughs coming, all he has to do is continue with the puns. The next one, coupled with the fingerguns, encourages a small snort from her. "You're too much, mate!"

She unfortunately (or, perhaps fortunately) misses his melancholy about his friends. Its hard not to notice that everyone around the Legion World seems to come from different walks of life, but she hadn't really considered the idea until then. Dave looks young -- about her age, when she first started flying, maybe even younger.

The idea that someone wasn't laughing at this clearly hilarious joke is what she chooses to tune in on.

"Someone givin' you a hard--time?" Lena hesitates and chuckles before the word "time".

The returned pun drags a grin out of him, and Dave casually shrugs and shakes his head.

"Nah. Some people just don't have a sense of humor. Apparently shit like Captain Mystery is a-okay, but a Justin Time is groan-inducing."

Not his problem if people don't appreciate his comedic genius. Even if this is approaching John Egbert levels of dorkiness. It's the delivery that matters.

"Captain Mystery? Rubbish! The groanin' just means its workin', love," Lena offers him slyly. "Besides, I like it. I just took me codename from home -- not at all funny."

Lena takes a second to try and figure out her orientation with the flight ring, to see if she can make herself do anything fancy aside from just floating there. All she gets out of it is the success of getting herself to sway back and forth in mid-air.

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

no subject

no subject