legionworld | let's up the tempo

Who| Lúcio and you! Open.
What| Skating his way through the halls of Legion World. Watch your step!
Where| Observation deck, and then pretty much wherever is convenient.
When| During GoT
Warnings/Notes| n/a

Alright, so some weird stuff's been happening lately. No reason not to take it all in stride. He seems to be more or less intact.

Which means keeping up the daily routine, and testing the limits of these powers they've been given. It's strange, feeling that innate sense of power rather than relying on the tech he'd appropriated from Vishkar. It's like he can feel that energy humming under his skin.

Good way to test it out?

"Whoo! Head's up, coming through!"

The hallways of the station, as it happen, are perfect for testing the speed of his new and improved skates, and far be it for Lúcio not to test their limits. Of course, he's considerate enough to try to keep it to the less populated halls, not actively trying to start any kind of ruckus. But this is a new world! No, more, better, a new universe to explore and seek out the limits of. While his heart aches for home without question, he's too busy taking in everything around him at breakneck speed. Laughing, he zips around a grouping of scientists, weaves around a harried-looking courier carrying a package -- before doubling back and circling the kid, nudging a wobbling corner back securely into his grip and zooming off again with another cheerful whoop.

Finally, he comes to a stop on the Observation deck. Even in the least poluted areas of the world, you couldn't get a view like this. Endless black and starlight, so full of possibilities that he'd never even considered by now. With a deep breath, he folds his arms and leans onto the railing, peering up as the soft thump of music continues to drone from the speakers wired through his dreads.

It's a quiet slice of home, a reminder that all the good he was fighting for there? Means just as much here. Maybe more.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It shouldn't have bothered him that much that Carolina was gone; she had been coming and going ever since he had met her, leaving him to half-support her personal agenda-vendetta-whatevera. But since Epsilon's death, since the shit that had happened, since he was worried that no one else would come back, there was a dreaded sense of emptiness that he wasn't prepared for. She had understood where he was coming from. She felt the shit he couldn't talk with to his friends. She would listen and not yell at him for wanting to believe that Church was still alive, still out there, still--

Sitting up here on the observation deck, he felt a little closer to her as he looked across at the stars and space and wondered what the fuck kind of trouble she was in no--

Was that music?

No, better than that: it was catchy music.

Tucker looked across at Lucio, blinking because that set up was--

"Dude, is that coming from your hair?"

Lúcio perked, drawn out of his reverie rather easily by the direct address. The beat continued, dmp-tshing out of the speakers as he grinned. "Sure is. Tucker, right?"

He'd recognized him from the network, if nothing else. They'd had time to chat, about a number of things, but so far as he could recall this was the first they'd actually gotten to meet up.

Small Legion World.

"Yeah." And he stood up, looking over at it, at the speakers, at his hair, at him. What the hell. "How did you even do that?"

Which was awesome, by the way. Totally fucking awesome. And the music was good, catchy enough to get his head nodding a little as he smiled; he could totally could see himself dancing if this went on a bit longer. Okay, so he could get used this.

The thought of Carolina faded a little, not gone, but a backseat. He would take it.

"You're like a walking karaoke machine."

"A guy's gotta have some hobbies. Me? I know a thing or two about acoustics, and setting up a sweet system."

He flicked gently at one of the dreads. "Keeps 'em protected, and all the weight's distributed. It's actually pretty handy. Carrying a rig like this around any other way'd be exhausting."

There was a pause as he looked Tucker over, a faint crease in his brow. "You doing alright, man?"

Okay, but how did he take it out? How did he put it in? What kind of maintenance- nope, didn't matter. Some things were better left to the imagination. However--

"That shit's gotta be aweeesome for mood music, though." Because yes, that was important. "You get in bed and start playing something to get the chicks going, and damn. Dude, you must get laid all the time with a get up like that. No wonder you seem so cheery."

At the mention of his own state, there was a roll of his shoulders, a glance away. Way to be subtle, Tucker. The weight of it came crashing down like the sky opening up for a storm, and he tried to play it off like nothing; this guy didn't know him, and attempting to explain shit about Freelancers, about AI, about suicide missions would probably go over his musical head.

"One of my friends bailed." Simple. Easy. And friend? It was more like family, but whatever. That was more than he wanted to admit to himself, let alone anyone else.

Hey, just because he had a sweet sound set-up didn't mean he couldn't wrap his head around a little weirdness. They're all here, for a start.

Ignoring Tucker's earlier remark, more a diversion than anything else, his expression turned to one of sympathy. "Man, I'm sorry. Left the Legion or..."

He gestures with a thumb out into the expansive spread of stars beyond the glass.

"Went home?"

There was "weirdness", and then there was explaining years of bullshit and conspiracies and shit that-- well, if he was being honest, things he didn't want to explain to himself.

"Home." Chorus? Chorus moon? A weird spot with this asshole who fucked them over? Somewhere.

"I just hope she's okay." He had lost enough family already. "I mean, she's gotta be; she can pretty much kick everyone's ass, but still... I wish I was with her. Helping with whatever the fuck she's doing now."

He looked up at him, one eyebrow arched. "Don't you have people you wish you were with?"

"Sure. But I'm kind of used to travel, so...it's less thinking about them being gone, more waiting until I see them again. It'll come. You'll see her again too, yeah?"

One hand claps gently to Tucker's shoulder in the meanwhile. Even with that fact to reassure him, it didn't discount how he felt now. She appeared to be someone he cared for a great deal, if he was worried about her regardless.

"And it's okay to miss her in the meanwhile."

Wow, this...this was really supportive. It had been since Chorus that he had a talk like this, and there was an internal fumbling on that, on what to say, how to feel about it. It was easier with people he knew, who got him, who understood How Things Worked; this was just a nice guy with speakers in his hair.

Hell.

"I'm just sick of missing people." Her. Caboose. The teams. Epsilon. Totally not admitting to missing Grif when they left him behind. And already, he was opening some doors he shouldn't even talk about. Emotions. Shit.

"Trust me, even if I didn't want to see her, I would. She kinda pops up like that." He looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "How long do you think it'll be until you see them again?"

"Not sure. I kinda got the feeling this fight's gonna take a while. But I'll find my way back." Not a trace of worry, not a single doubt visible. It was just matter-of-fact that they'd finish up here and go back where they belonged, and he'd see the people he cared about again.

"But I'm making a ton of friends here. People I'm gonna be sad to see go, when we're done, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't do it all over again, you know?"

"Yeah, that's a good point." How many of these Freelancers were dead where he was from? Connie, North, York... they would all be gone the second all of them went back. You know, if they did.

Shit, he'd even go back to hating Locus with every part of his being. Being pissed at Grif. All the shit he'd worked on already. Fuck.

"Well, it's not like there's a choice; more shitty wars that we're dragged into that have to be fought for good or some bullshit." It wasn't bullshit; he wanted to protect people, wanted to protect his people, the friends he made. He didn't want to lose this.

"And of course you're making friends." Tucker rolled his eyes. "Do you ever not make friends?"

let's up the tempo

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