[OPEN] You're Out of Touch

[vata]

Who| Sombra and you!
What| there's a small gang member roaming Legion World and causing trouble
Where| everywhere on Legion World
When| eh
Warnings/Notes| NA

I: QIÉN ES SOMBRA

[There's something amiss in Legion World— aside from the obvious hiccups in general time. A bright splash of phosphorescent green and pink, flitting in and out of public space. Eventually the little streak of color slows to a halt: runs clawed fingers across pristine walls, over statues and murals and statues without reverence, just an abundance of fixed curiosity, as though it's all so new.

And for her, it really is.

Across her face, glowing body paint cuts the shape of a stylized skull, making otherwise young features look decidedly more vicious. A notion that's punctuated by her predatory posture and the gun resting openly at her hip.

In front of a heroic depiction of the Legion's finest, she snorts to herself, quietly:]

Where the hell am I?

II: TAGGED TURF

[Graffiti. There's a lot of it, all over the less-used Legion World hallways— and the statues, and occasionally the floors. Variations of 'Tierra de Los Muertos' or 'Sombra', and a few iterations of the telltale skull pattern painted across her cheeks. Where she got the paint is anyone's guess, but she's putting it to good use while she can.

After all, why would anyone even waste their time trying to stop her?]

III: WILDCARD

[ooc: Want something different? Let's make it happen! Feel free to go ahead and place your character anywhere on Legion World and I'll have Sombra fill in— or message me on plurk at ladyavali for specific plotting!]

Comments

[goddamngrenades]

Still do. Hence the hustling you out of potential trouble.

[ Whether that'll stick, whether that'll matter? It's not the first time he's put his money on the wrong number. There'd been shades of this pointy, hungry woman under the sugar and the smiles. Taylor thought it might be enough that he'd found her interesting. That he wouldn't mind getting to know the person under the mask, if the mask was more than a hair and name change. ]

I owe her.

[vata]

[The lid's capped on, her expression constant: no flickering signs of shock or wariness at his confession— she wouldn't have brought it up if she didn't suspect it.]

This might be permanent, you know that?

[goddamngrenades]

Then I'll just drink with a twenty year old and keep you out of trouble till you're as much of a badass as she was. [ He shrugs, eyes on the stars. ] It won't take long.

[vata]

Good to know you're right about something. [There's a mild chuckle on her end, flask passed back towards him with a toothy little grin. From there she settles down into the sand, burrowing like the feral little creature she is.]

Did you really scrub off all that paint?

[goddamngrenades]

Yep. [ He pops the P on yep, swigging from the flask without so much as an eyeroll or a sigh. Helping a bro out is important, even if the bro is now a feral little thing with bright eyes and brighter tattoos. ] Most of it. I'll probably have to go back around, you were a productive little hoodrat.