[ OPEN ] Just like that Highschool Class about childcare.

[goddamngrenades]

Who| York, Delta, and YOU! (special guest star: egg)
What| Knocking around Legion World, carting about a mysterious egg.
Where| Observation Deck, Mess, Training Rooms
When| After THATH/OM/GOU
Warnings/Notes| N/A



(A) - Observation Deck

All this calm quiet is oppressive on occasion- too familiar to the absolute nothing that he can distantly recall with a chill down his spine when things are too still. Too dark. But after long days full of people and noise and life? When he's almost overworked and overstimulated, all but vibrating out of his skin? It's soothing. As long as he doesn't stare too much. Today between monitor duty and Flight Ring training and his own programs running around in the back of his mind he needs that quiet space. His most recent meeting with Dr. Ry'kerr's left him with a lot to think about and a small package he's been told to keep warm.

So.

Sitting in the middle of all this quiet with a handheld heater wrapped in a green scarf as he contemplates both the stars and the strange football sized egg now in his care. Delta perches on his shoulder, running through a few encryption puzzles.


(B) - Mess Hall

Vague countdowns with indefinite deadlines are the worst. Not knowing when or how this thing'll hatch is killing York- but not so much that he'll obsess with research too much. He carries both the wrapped egg and Delta to grab lunch, minding it with one hand while poking through a catalog of cybernetic eyes. Medical tech being what it is he could just get a new one grown or...something? He's not familiar enough and the idea gives him an odd sense of vertigo he thinks about it too hard. Something that'll let him see without trying to be his? That's easier to hold onto. D offers his two cents here and there between dissecting a platter of fruit for York's perusal, nudging his hand away from the things that are probably some kind of caustic.

(C) - Training Room

Delta's in charge of keeping the temperature even around the egg, sitting next to it, not on it, despite York's promising that the egg can probably take it and that it'd be damn cute. York focuses on range time. It's not entirely unlike the leaderboard drills for speed and accuracy at close, mid, and long range. He alternates between his charged, thrown marbles, handguns, shotguns, and a stun variant of a battle rifle that has the right weight and kick to it. Running these numbers against Delta's on board backups of his scores when he had both eyes and just comparing the two.

Gathering data, more or less. Trying to make up his mind.

Comments

C

[justice_from_above]

Fareeha is in need of some very vigorous distraction, so she's arriving at the training rooms ready for a sweat.

Seeing someone else here, she stops and watches for a moment. "Hey, Murray, right? You're not too bad a shot."

C

[goddamngrenades]

"Thanks-" He pops off another stun round with his pistol, good eye narrowed. Close to mid he's still pretty fair, long's never been his bag. But all the practice and training and assistance from Delta can't compensate for the white blur on his left that docks his speed and depth perception. "I do better with D riding shotgun, but he's babysitting."

[justice_from_above]

She'l make a quick glance around as she strides in and settles her things down, finally noting Delta and the odd little egg.

"I can see that. When's the due date?"

[goddamngrenades]

"No idea. Anywhere from a few days to a month, apparently." Which is a larger margin for fucking up than York would like but, hey. There you go. "How 'bout you, Eagle Eyes? Wanna take a crack at it?"

[justice_from_above]

"That must really keep you on your toes. Good thing you've got your little buddy to help you out." She gives Delta a wave.

"Sure, I'll give it a shot." Pun intended. She gears up, walks over, and looks at the arsenal he's got arranged. "Pretty standard selection." She pulls out one of his handguns and looks it over, testing the grip, and then turns towards the targets. "You want to, make a friendly bet?"

B

[unrecovered]

At some point, Wash is going to make a cheat sheet of Things That Are Not Safe For Humans To Eat, because holy shit he's tired of being the only thing between ordering the wrong meal and taking an emergency trip to med bay. As it is, he stops in his tracks, reaches over the table, and pushes York's hand down flat, forcing him to drop the hot pink fruit he's holding. "You really don't want to eat that."

[goddamngrenades]

"It's not toxic." Delta's scanners proved it clear. Or. Was that the purple star shaped fruit? He squints at his tray and quirks a brow at Delta. D simply scans the pink fruit a second time, recalibrating his sensors because of the two of them? He'll trust Wash's knowledge without verification when it comes to fruit. "Or was this the one that'd make me see shit?"

[unrecovered]

"This is the one that'll make you see shit," Wash confirms. He'd fallen down the spacefuture YouTube rabbit hole more than once, and one of those trips involved finding videos of humans eating the hallucination fruit for the hell of it and recording themselves. You can only see so many people tripping balls before you learn not to do it yourself. "Seriously, don't even lick your fingers."

[goddamngrenades]

"Technically, causing hallucinations does not make it toxic." Delta offers while filing that information away for future reference.

"...Look I'm sorry I said your jetpack idea for your body was silly." Even if it is. Delta angles his head up to York for a moment before resuming more thorough scans of the fruit. York, well. Gets a napkin to start scrubbing his hand. "Since tripping balls is not what I wanna do today- thanks, Wash."

[unrecovered]

Okay, a jetpack would be pretty damn cool. Wash glances at York, then down at Delta, who does not seem at all contrite for his oversight. "I dunno, Delta," he says, almost singsong, "you don't want to end up like Georgia."

He still has no idea what that means, because he still has no idea what happened to Georgia. He's also not about to bring that up.

"You're welcome." He takes a seat at the table, snags a piece of (safe, non-toxic, non-hallucinogenic, still incredibly alien) fruit off York's plate, and shrugs. "So, what's with the egg?"

A

[agnominal]

The doctor's left them all with a lot to ponder on. It doesn't necessarily feel like progress, but it doesn't feel like a waste of time, either. Actually talking about things is his biggest challenge, finding the words, and when they strike upon something meaningful? It feels a little draining.

He has no real love of the stars, no poet's eye or romantic view of space after the time he's had out in it, but it's relatively quiet up here on most days. And he notices with a certain measure of gladness that York happens to be up here as well, Delta in tow.

As well as...hm.

"You have an egg." Most obvious statement of the decade, perhaps, but he's peering at it more than a little curiously now.

[goddamngrenades]

"Yep." He tips his head back, leaning enough to see Locus with his good eye. Quiet and contemplative as he might be feeling- Locus is good company for being quiet. Doesn't really poke or prod aside from the obvious shit like- pointing out the egg. "Incubating it is supposed to be a part of the 'bonding process' or. Something."

Alien little creature he's supposed to take care of. Therapy animals in the vegan space future come in all kinds of shapes and sizes, apparently.

[agnominal]

"Whatever is inside is meant to be your companion, then."

Locus gives it a considering look before nodding once, in what must be approval. "Good. They've proven to be very helpful."

And adorable. Luna was the cutest damn thing on the station as far as he was concerned. But who knew what lay inside that egg York was toting around.

[goddamngrenades]

"A dog or a cat is something I'd probably imagine for myself." Locus is aware of his issues with unreality. "So she recommended this little guy. Girl. Egg."

Whatever it'll end up being. He pats the ground next to him in open invitation, Delta mimicking the motion from where he's perched on York's shoulder. They both enjoy his company and staring up at him is a good way to crane his neck.

[agnominal]

"Do you know what sort of creature resides inside?"

At the gesture, Locus's brow creases faintly, but he takes a seat alongside him with a nod towards Delta. It's good to see the little AI as well, and more importantly it's good to see the two of them together.

Even with the risk of York seeing Delta as a hallucination.

B

[nofortunateson]

York's tucked sort of off by himself, apparently reading, but they're at the level of casual personal-space-invasion where North feels perfectly within his rights plopping down across from him with his tray of lunch, peering at the bowl of fruit he's picking curiously.

"What, don't you like the blue ones?" He asks, reaching out his fork to jab one.

[goddamngrenades]

"The blue is a lie- they taste like eggs." Which is weird in a fruit, but allright. He slumps enough to bump his ankle against North's, eyes flicking back over to him with a faint smirk. He may or may not be bullshitting, but there's that crinkle and smug cant to his smirk that says he's fucking with North.

[nofortunateson]

"Eggs." He rests the chunk of cerulean-blue densely-fleshed fruit on his tray, meeting York's smirk with a level-with-me stare. He's not risking his tongue and dignity on whether or not he's being pranked. "What kind of eggs."

[goddamngrenades]

"Technically a sweet custard has eggs, so..." He shrugs, plucking up another and peeling it with a deft twist of nails-fingers-palm. The flehs is as blue as the rest of it. "It does make your tongue turn blue though. Tastes kinda like vanilla and mint. No shit."

Which is the weirdest damn thing ever but, hey. Fun alien fruit for the win.

[nofortunateson]

"Any relation to the blue egg you're babysitting right now?" He takes his own stolen fruit, gives it an experimental sniff, and starts to peel it. He's curious about the choice of reading material, too, but given they're in the middle of the mess, York's pet lump seems like the preferable object of conversation.

c.

[tenzero]

Of course it shouldn't be a surprise that things are always busy in the training rooms, but it's still always somewhat of a surprise to find other people using them. Tenno's never been the introverted sort, but the concept of having to share space is still somewhat foreign.

Of course he has so many questions, this is the first time he's seen someone else with guns actually using them, but as he shifts awkwardly in the doorway something else, something far more important, catches his attention.

"...is...is that an egg?" Nailed it.

[goddamngrenades]

"Yep." York doesn't even bother looking over, eyes locked on the targets flickering in and out of existence in the range before him, popping off neat shots for those closest to him. "Delta's on babysitting duty. Say hi, Delta."

"Greetings." D waves from where he's perched next to the egg, a foot tall robotic android dressed in a suit from the neck down, head still the Mjolnir Mark (whatever) helmet until he picks out a face.

in which i am so sorry

[tenzero]

Tenno has seen strange things in his time, he'd never try to deny that, but small men in suits certainly ranks up there in 'is this an actual thing that's happening in front of me or am I just dreaming (again)?' territory. No, wait, not a small man, small...robot? Cephalon maybe? He's never heard of a cephalon with a body before, or at least a vaguely humanoid form, and that actually sparks far more interest than the egg itself.

With little regard to any sort of privacy, he inches closer to the egg and its guardian, squatting down until he's able to get a better look. "I think I might have an actual incubator segment back in my biome if you need it."

But then he pauses to think for a moment, "unless you're hoping that bringing your kubrow in to train before it hatches will make it a better fighter. Is that a thing here? I guess I've never tried it with any of mine before. Oh! Do you know what type it's going to be? I assume you used imprints with how pretty the egg is? What were the genetic donors like? Personally, I like raksas but I know a lot of people prefer sashas. Either way, they're always cute as heck when they're puppies. Do you know about how long until it hatches? I suppose without an incubator it'll take longer..."

Training has been sufficiently forgotten now, and perhaps someone is a mite bit too excited.

right back at you for the delay x-x

[goddamngrenades]

That is...


A lot of information in a very small window of time and exactly zero of it makes any kind of sense to York, even with Delta attempting to pull up information from the network as some kind of dictionary. All of this is in English- he thinks- and he still can't. Parse it. This must be what thinking someone suddenly speaking in tongues is like. "...I- uh. I don't think it's a...puppy. DO puppies come from eggs where you're from?"

Because that is the one detail he can kind of cling to that is weird as balls and manage to speak on coherently beyond 'what even'.

pshawww no apologies ever

[tenzero]

"Do they not where you're from?" That's actually a really strange thought. Where would they come from if not from eggs? Eggs were the safest bet for young back on the toxic mess that Earth had become.

But that also begs the question, if it's not a kubrow what in the heck is it? Some new sort of egg? "What would it be, if it isn't a kubrow? I don't really know of anything else that lays eggs..."