goddamngrenades: (fine i'm listening)
Agent York | Taylor Murray ([personal profile] goddamngrenades) wrote in [community profile] legionworld2017-05-27 01:25 am

[ OPEN ] Just like that Highschool Class about childcare.

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.
nofortunateson: (pic#9674866)

[personal profile] nofortunateson 2017-05-30 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
Well damn. That . . . is actually pretty good. And it mentally files more along the lines of a bizarre truffle than a fruit, given the color alone.

He reaches to take another.

"Well all right. Is there a reason you don't just get one once it's hatched?"
nofortunateson: (grin down)

[personal profile] nofortunateson 2017-05-30 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
"She is the professional," he agrees - a practised, benign sort of positivity that doesn't carry more personal endorsement than it really needs to. "How does Delta feel about the upcoming bundle of joy?"
nofortunateson: (yikes)

[personal profile] nofortunateson 2017-05-30 05:28 am (UTC)(link)
"Me minding you or cleaning up?" he asks, all intentional innocence.
nofortunateson: (grin down)

[personal profile] nofortunateson 2017-05-30 06:18 am (UTC)(link)
"I do have a very fancy house. And I eat three meals a day," he points out. Not that all of those meals are necessarily fully nutritionally balanced, but they are meals.

"And we have bedtime," contributes a voice from his shirt pocket, the screen of his communicator pulsing a dull glow magenta through the fabric in time with the syllables.
Edited 2017-05-30 06:19 (UTC)
nofortunateson: (little glowing friend)

[personal profile] nofortunateson 2017-06-18 04:51 am (UTC)(link)
For the briefest moment, when it looks like York's about to jibe Theta about bedtime, North glances at him with the briefest and stillest of warning looks. Bedtime is something they've just gotten to work, and he is really, really appreciating sleeping something approaching normal hours. Thank goodness for Delta, and he breathes a small sigh of relief, going back to his tray as Theta flickers into view on the table near his free hand.

" I dunno." He shifts a little, restless. "What's it like?"
Edited 2017-06-18 05:06 (UTC)
nofortunateson: (pic#11067636)

[personal profile] nofortunateson 2017-06-20 02:47 am (UTC)(link)
"I guess that looks like it could be fun." He'd definitely be able to test out physics simulations more effectively, and exploring his own interests is something North's been encouraging him to do, now that he's outside of his armor more and more. "Is there one I can try somewhere?"

North, still wordlessly, casually reaches over both of them to deposit one of his less favored fruits onto the pile on Taylor's plate.
nofortunateson: (little glowing friend)

[personal profile] nofortunateson 2017-07-05 07:24 am (UTC)(link)
That . . . he is still getting used to. As is the awareness of Delta still there on the table, fully present even as Taylor rounds the door and completely exits the room.

"I guess we're still getting used to some things that really weren't possible, before," he comments, resting his chin on his palm.

Theta nods, still facing the direction York went, then glancing back at Delta, voice tinged with nervousness at the blatant reality of the two of them not within close range of one another. "How far apart do you get?"