epitomized | inbox

Not impersonating anyone, rookie. [ god this is weird. ] it's actually me. Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated and all that. Kind of kept my head down for the past few years because being dead was easier than getting involved and getting shot again.

Nice voice mod.

But I saw York myself. I blew him up. You're not him.

You blew up armor with a corpse in it. Did you pop the helmet to check or take it at face value?

...that's not possible.

Why, because I unknowingly left D behind?

[ And for a moment, there's doubt. ]

...that's why he wasn't destroyed.

The burnout protocol was very real while very much being a lie. My vitals dipped enough to kickstart it, when I came to? I thought I was alone.

[ When the feed flares to life, he's there. Looking in turns older, more worn. Angry and confused. ]

Show me.

Hey, Washington.

[ it takes a minute, but his end flares to life. A nondescript comm station that could be anywhere- and york. Hair still too long for regs, still styled to flip up at the front, the frosted glass of his left eye no less jarring for all that the scars are older, faded. Grey at his temples, a richer, darker cast to his skin from years of beach living... but it's him.

And the ugly burnout scar he twists to show wash is very, very real. ]

York.

[ Still angry, but more shocked than anything. Where the Hell have you been? is on the tip of his tongue, but he's answered that already. He was hiding.

He left. Left him on the ship, left Delta behind, left Carolina, left everyone behind so he could get free of the mess the Project had been. He's not sure if he blames him, anymore. ]

I go by Taylor now, mostly.

[ it's an echo of his usual smirks that he offers, too worn and wary to risk real good humor. It's been...awhile. Wash looks good, all told, and this isn't as awkward as he thought it'd be just yet. ]

I heard about the mess on Chorus. Good work.

That's all you've got? I expected a ghost to have more to say.

I need your help. There's this...collective of AI trying to track me down because. Uh- delta's not dead either. They want him. And his son. It's complicated. I've been keeping us a few steps ahead the past month or so but they're zealots and aggressive and I'm running out of options if I want to keep them safe.

[ Alright, so he needs something. That explains him coming out of hiding. Doesn't make it better.

But first things first. ]

An AI collective?

Fucked if I know, man. They want to free delta from his solitary existence or something. He's distressed, says they remind him of sigma, but bigger.

Sounds like they're not gonna stop with him, either.

Do we know what they're planning once they've got all the AI they need?

No idea, but my money is on nothing good. We need more hands and eyes on this then we've got right now. Me, his son, FLISS and Sam can only do so much.

Wait.

How does Delta have a son?

Remember how I said it's complicated? It's complicated. Long, weird story short- He adopted another fragment.

Where did you even find one? Is it one of the other Alpha fragments? I thought they were all destroyed.

Long weird story, remember? I swear you were good at listening once upon a time, then again I was better at not getting shot so I guess we're even. No, not connected to alpha.

[ It's at this point the inquisitive side of this draws back, and something cold passes over his eyes. ]

Oh I'm sorry, York. Y'know, you're right. I mean a long story does seem like asking for a lot. Especially from someone who turned his back on the rest of his team.

I should probably just take it all on good faith and start packing my bags right now.

I am...not getting into ancient history with you. There's no point in discussing it; you've already made up your mind and found closure and that's part of why I never poked at either of you. Then Chorus happened and I definitely didn't want to get involved. I wasn't doing field work, I don't do field work, I'm done with getting shot at. It's fucking exhausting.

[ He grinds the heel of his hand into his bad eye, an old habit from after it healed for dealing with sudden, spiking migraines. Usually brought on by stress. He's been doing it plenty, lately. ]

This was a terrible idea.

Yeah, well some of us never stopped getting shot at. Some of us didn't have a goddamn choice. And a pretty large percentage of the people I've been lied to and shot in the back by have been people I would have taken a bullet for, during the Project.

[ His jaw works tightly. ]

Talk to me about 'exhausting' sometime.

Another reason I didn't want to make the call. You're out. You're done. You've got a right to be done and I've put this off because-

It's good to be out. To not have to worry about this shit anymore and god knows you've earned it.

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