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001 - Log - A New Brand of Rogues
WHO: Mick Rory | Open to All | Open to Rogues and Rogue allies
WHAT: Open post for general Mick things
WHEN: A week to two weeks after his appearance
WHERE: Carlyle | Thiefy Blockbuster Hide-Out
WARNINGS & NOTES: Nothing planned. Mick's taken from the beginning of Season 3 of LoT so no spoilers from him. If other people tag from anything new, just cram a spoiler warning in the subject.
[In that strip mall is an old Blockbuster, shut down for a good ten years and with a breakroom in the back that has an exit to the front, an exit to the back, and doors leading to a back corridor and to Mick? That seems like a fair number of escape points. If they turn on the lights in the break area, no one is going to see outside. With the water and electricity working, this old fridge boots up fine. There are enough doors and old (if empty) safes among the stores that Mick can do some of that thief training he promised.]
[In the breakroom itself, the flatscreen TV is still a huge box of a shape rather than one of the new things. A relic from a few years before the store actually closed and the whole mall went belly up. There are VHS rewinders still back there. Some abandoned B-Movie DVDs in boxes (non of which Mick recognizes and that's weird to him).]
[Ah well, good enough. He finds a copy of what looks like a tacky vampire movie and pops it into an ancient DVD player, so abandoned that he actually leaves dust prints from his fingers.]
I remember when we first got out of Juvie we stole a bunch of movies from the video store. Lisa loved the cartoons we brought her.
[Mick's saying. He has a donut. There's no immediate clue as to how he got this donut.]
[For the most part whenever he comes into town, it's in full disguise. He's some deliveryman wearing a winter uniform, moving boxes, holding a clipboard. He's come in on a different day in plaid and suspenders and a broad, worn cowboy hat. No one has been any the wiser (he can pull off that gruff farmboy look well). He watches the police station (tiny, but full of fucking feds), the bank (one bank, unimpressive, probably don't know how to deal with their newfound cash but also too much trouble to deal with while the station is full of feds), and the general area for any sign of the Legends.]
[Who knows. Maybe they can figure this out for everyone.]
[Today Mick is wearing his "casual farmhand Joe" disguise, drinking a bottle of some generic brand of grape soda because he ain't risking a beer in public right now and sitting on a bench outside of the modest post office.]
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[He really is more intelligent than he sounds, he promises.]
See, Ant Queen really sounded like his people developed his shrinking tech. Haircut had nothing to do with it. And that's usually not how it goes. We don't run into divergences that big where the same people aren't even involved.
So I'm thinkin' we don't even exist.
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Shit. I don't know how we can get their attention across a whole alternative universe.
I'll think about it. [He's sure he'll come up with an idea eventually. Like casing out a museum before a heist, sometimes problems require some time and research to figure out.]
In the meantime, we stick close to each other.
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[Mick sits there for a few moments longer.]
We need a couch or a futon or somethin'. Better than all of us fightin' over sleeping bags. [Just an idle observation. They need beer more. But they have the start to something decent here.]
Van is big enough to transport one in.
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[He likes rugs. Makes it better to lounge on the floor when the mood strikes him.]
Home sweet home.
[And then they'll need to find a second place and fix it up too. And a third. Snart likes to have at least three boltholes ready and available at any time.]
Hey, Mick...
[He rolls away from the wall to sit cross-legged on the floor instead, looking at Mick.]
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[He wants a typewriter, though. He more or less needs one. He can lie and say it's to keep track of what's going on, even if it means he'll have to wear his glasses.]
[Wait. He doesn't have his glasses.]
[That thought is pushed to the side as Snart says his name. He wonders what it'll be. After all, it's a hell of a lot he dumped on him earlier.]
Yeah?
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I left my cold gun with you.
[When he destroyed the Oculus.
Those aren't the words he needs to say, but he's working his indirect way around to it.]
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[Now he sounds a little dismal.]
Haircut used it to stop a bomb in the White House. I kept what I could of it after that, but it wasn't working anymore. I knew how to fix mine, but I didn't know how to fix yours.
[And he actually sounds pretty guilty over that.]
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[The gun wasn't just a weapon, it'd become part of his identity. He isn't Cold without the gun. He's just a guy in a warm coat. Even though he's alive it's like he's still gathering up bits of himself from the explosion.]
Do you remember what I said before I left the gun on you, and before I knocked you out?
[He rubs his thumb against the silver pinky ring on his hand.]
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[The memory still stings.] I forgave you. Everybody else, not so much. [He clears his throat.] Including me. I shoulda known what you were about to do. You were always a stubborn bastard.
[He still thinks that should have been him.]
As Chronos I had all this extra time I spent. Might have been with the Time Masters, and it might have been angry. But in the end, I had too much time and you had too little. Little ironic for being on the Waverider.
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Yeah. Ironic.
[He leans back against the wall.]
Why'd you take Palmer's place?
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[He trails off, not wanting to say what he'd messed up. I'd ruined what we had. They wouldn't be able to go back to the way it was. Not after Chronos. He had genuinely thought that it would be too hard to get back to the way they were.]
Wish it had been Rip. He should have stepped up like a man for once.