2013.08.02 - In the Future There Are Still Dad Jokes

For such an expansive building, the Legion HQ is sleek and modern, futuristic even, and really rather quiet on a Friday afternoon in the summertime. Perhaps everyone is out enjoying the sunshine, or out doing superheroey things, whatever the case might be, they certainly aren't in the foyer. Currently in the foyer, there is a young black woman, in jeans and a t-shirt leaning on the second story balcony, staring down at the empty lobby. Why, precisely? Unclear, but she's there, and somewhat watching the entrance, even if she appears to be lost in thought.

The Tower of Fate, the Baxter Building, now Legion HQ--Amy Winston has been to some seriously upscale and unique places over the past few weeks, but she's still wearing her beat up old clothes. Regardless of her conflicted feelings about whether or not she should maintain a secret identity, she could at least buy new clothes with the money Doctor Fate gave her.

The teen saunters through the glass doors and into the air conditioning, unabashedly taking a moment to stop and take in the enormity of the lobby. Her clothes are probably some kind of rebellion against all this opulence, she reflects. That makes sense.

"Good afternoon." Jazmin's voice rings out, looming from on high as she watches a teen step in and look around, beating the reception 'bot to the punch of greeting and offering assistance. "Can I help you with anything?" The clothes, the girl's age, neither seem to phase the woman overmuch.

"Yeah, uh, I'm here because of a guy named Garth? Garth Ranzz," Amy shouts back. She shoves her hands into her jacket's pockets and begins the long trek across the lobby. She gamely follows the golden path etched into the ground.

"He said he wanted to see if I was involved in any future people stuff," the teen continues. Not like there's anyone else in the lobby to care that she's talking so loudly. Robots don't mind, right?

"Ah /ha/." Jazmin sounds as if that provides her with plenty of insight. She hops up onto the railing of the balcony, jumping down to join Amy on the main floor, her fall slowed with judicious use of her flight ring. "Are you?" She asks, curious then. "From the future?"

Amy pauses as Jazmin makes the leap. It strikes her very suddenly that this girl is probably from the future. Garth was from the future. This building, too, why not? She consciously knew it all before, but it hadn't sunk in.

Then again, Jazmin's wearing boots, jeans, and a purple shirt. Maybe the gulf isn't that wide.

Amy does her best to maintain a serious, composed expression when she really wants to grin at the absurdity. "I hope to be, one day."

"We're all time travelers. I find we jump ahead a little more than three hundred and fifty days every year." Jazmin notes and then chuckles warmly, easily. "Hi, I'm Jazmin. Did Garth have a /reason/ to think you were involved in future people stuff, or was he just flirting?"

Amy's facade finally cracks and she smiles back. "Hi. I'm Amy. Honestly, I when I called the number he gave me, I expected it to just be his phone. That'd be soooo my luck."

"He overheard me talking about some, um, personal problems. Multidimensional stuff, I guess. I'm not sure how it works, so I don't know how much I can help you. Do you have a little scanner that can tell?" Amy wiggles her fingers in front of her face to illustrate. "Dr. Richards had one that detected time particles or something."

"It would /totally/ be Garth's style.. but I suppose I dont give him enough credit, he's not weird about it." Jazmin smiles a touch ruefully. "And mmm.. we /od/ have a bit of a penchent for the weird around here. I.. can see them if there's a current time rift, but if you've actually come from another timeline and are established here, then you've been adopted into this timeline and pretty much stop giving off anomaly particles. Can.. can I ask what /sort/ of personal problems? I expect, honestly, that Garth was probably more thinking we might help you, if you're having issues."

"I'm glad I could confirm that your friend's a gentleman."

Amy slides her hands back into her jacket pockets. She looks away from Jazmin as the other woman asks for further information. The teen scans the lobby, looking for nothing in particular and just killing some time.

"I think I already blew my chances of having a secret identity or whatever, so it can't really hurt anything." When Amy looks back, her expression is slightly more dire. "So, the basic story is, there's this magical land where all the unicorns and fairies and whatever went to hide out at, which is why the Earth doesn't have any. I'm a princess from there and, unsurprisingly, there's this evil guy who wants to kill me and my family and rule Gemworld--"

Amy stops and rubs the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, it's called Gemworld. I really sound insane when I explain this."

The pair clearly shop at the same stores, or at least have a fondness for similar clothing styles. Two teen girls, standing in a quiet lobby, chatting on a gloriously sunny and warm summer's afternoon. Really, why is anyone indoors?

The comment brings a quirk of a smile to Jazmin's face. "Hey.. secret identities are rough, I don’t even try, personally. I'd never remember who I told what to, and the outfit changing thing? Boots are /not/ that easy to get into on the sly." She mmms softly as she listens, no sign of incredulity, or disbelief. "I've heard worse country names than Gemworld, but it's not exactly suave. Soo.. welcome, then? How'd you end up in New York?"

"...Gemworld?" echoes a third voice, a man in his mid-thirties-- could be anyone wandering through the vast, open lobby of Legion Headquarters, on their way through via the High Line, but it's not, it's a guy in a Legion uniform. Honestly it could be a villain outfit, given it's mostly black and dark purple (hey, wait a second), but it comes with a belt bearing the same logo as the building itself, so odds are pretty decent he's one of the good guys.

He lands about ten feet away - hovery bastard that he is - and meanders a few feet closer on foot, looking distinctly interested. "The extradimensional planet? The one you can get to from Tharn? I mean-- Zerox. Sorry. History. Wait. Unless it's not even this universe's history-- I'm sorry. Jaz, help."

"So I'm not a total idiot for skipping out on the mask? Good," Amy says. "Changing clothes is a little easier for me, though."

The teen fails to elaborate further, falling silent as a man joins their conversation. Her initial mistrust is visibly apparent, but her eyes widen at his seeming familiarity with Gemworld. Amy glances to Jazmin for her reaction, and then ventures an answer: "I don't know. There's a Gemworld where you come from? Do you, um, know anyone from it?"

"I have no clue what you're on about, Rokk." Jazmin glances up to the newest arrival into the conversation, with a quirk of her brow, her voice and expression fond. "Extradimensional planet, yes? How you get to it.. no clue. I am pretty sure I never went to Gemworld." She gestures between the two. "Amy, this is Rokk, also known as Cosmic Boy. Rokk, this is Amy, possibly Princess Amy depending on moment and status of her secret or not so secret identity."

"Do you-- do you /mind/?" the guy asks Jazmin, overplaying being affronted but -- not altogether faking it. "Cos," he corrects, offering his hand to Amy, "is the only codename I've got these days. It's also, handily, my nickname. Or you can call me Rokk--"

--and now he does a doubletake, blue eyes locking on Amy in startlement; he's abruptly considerably more businesslike, more formal. "Amethyst. It's an honor to meet you in person," the Braalian tells the teenager gravely. "I met another version of you once. She gave the Legion a great deal of aid in defeating one of our worst enemies. But I haven't met anyone else from Gemworld, only the Sorcerer's World."

"Rokk fits you better," Amy says, smiling again. "Very man-of-action." She firmly clasps his hand with a grip a little higher on the strength scale than 'princess.'

She falters when Rokk changes tone. She looks to Jazmin again for some kind of sign, but ends up looking into Rokk's super serious eyes.

"Uh. Are you sure you have the right Amethyst? I mean, um, my mom was Princess Amethyst at one point, and her mom too. It's a family name."

"Pftt." Jazmin very maturely makes a noise at Rokk. "You make a /great/ Cosmic Boy.. and besides, there's a healthy chunk of people who know you as Cosmic Boy rather than Cos. It's like we should all have really long name tags, and I'll be screwed if James ever turns up in this reality." She offers a little shrug to Amy. "He's the history and who we're all connected guru, I just try and keep up."

Oh my! Serious as he is, Rokk still manages to flip a talk-to-the-hand at Jazmin. And then cock a thumb at her. "She's also the Leader, but I'm too old to be Cosmic Boy, she's being mean," he asides to Amy, letting go her hand after a firm shake. And then he clasps his hands behind his back, taking a half-step away to return collective personal space to its default configuration, and he gives Amy a wry smile. "Could have been. It doesn't matter much to /me/; it either wasn't /you/-you or isn't you yet, anyway. If it /does/ turn out to be you, I hope you keep your sense of humor."

Then the man drops his arms to his sides and grins, all traces of gravitas vanished like smoke in a wind tunnel. "And! I have completely derailed what you were talking about. I'm sorry. Look, I'm going to the commissary: if you don't want me continuing to butt in, I'll see you guys later, I'm sure; if you'd like to join me, that's cool too. I just really, really want a silverale."

Amy keeps watching Rokk, unsure of how to proceed on the 'possible person of importance from the future' line of thought. Simple answer: ignore it for now. She looks away for a moment, reaching up to brush her hair back. Not that it does any good.

"Well, it's not like he could upgrade to Cosmic Man. That's way too overblown." She briefly smiles. "I'm not sure what we were talking about. What does it mean if I'm the one who helps you guys out in the future? What if I'm not? Would I still get to, um," Amy makes a chopping motion. "Call in reinforcements on this guy?"

The teen scrunches her nose up, uncomfortable with her presumption. "Do you guys offer reinforcements? I don't know what a Legion's official duties are. If this Eclipso guy gets loose on Earth, it'll be bad. I think."

"I try not to /tell/ people that right away, it makes them all nervous and scared to talk to me." Jazmin points out and then looks to Amy and then back to Rokk. "I'm not sure either, which I think might require us to retrieve a silverale. By and large, as I was explaining to Asgardians earlier today.. we seem to end up getting called in, or calling ourselves in, when its gone to the weird and small group tactical. Not so much with armies, or big weapons deals." She gestures to Rokk and adds. "Later, we need to chat. Gil is not offering me insights, I'll move up the evolutionary ladder and try you next." She grins, teasing.

Getting a sort of non-answer answer, Rokk makes a sweeping gesture toward the transport tubes. "Silverale, this way," he hin-- yeah okay, that's less of a hint and more a direction. "And basically, you come calling for help, and we help. The 'unsure' part, I expect," he glances questioningly at Jazmin, eyebrows up, "has a lot to do with, for once, us not being basically a giant target for interstellar vill--"

There, the Braalian man stops short, right next to the transport tube, staring at Amethyst. "Eclipso? That's a big problem, yeah." And, his tone seems to indicate, a potentially exciting one. But he's also getting more than a little cognitive dissonance; he turns to stare at Jazmin. "Gil? Are you-- wait, who?"

"I have no idea what silverale is and I'm eighteen. Just, um, throwing that out there," Amy says, tagging along behind Cosmic Boy/Man. She nearly runs into his back when he stops.

"Oh, man, you know about him, too? Can you give me your email or something? I'm so sure I'll need to ask you something important eventually."

Despite the dire subject, Amy is smiling again. There's a little bounce in her step. "So if Jazmin--um, is it Commander Jazmin or something?--deems this a threat, I can count on you guys to help out? And you have experience with Eclipso. Wow. I'm having a great day."

"We're private property.. I'm nineteen, and silverale isn't going to knock you stupid. There's other things too if you prefer." Jazmin explains on that whole 'underage' thing with a shrug. "When I'm from, you're either an adult or you're not. The kinda sorta voting, but not drinking, but driving? It makes no sense." She laughs and shakes her head. "Nope, no commander or anything.. just Jazmin. Or Kid Quantum if you're desperate for a code name, but either works. And if Eclipso turns up, absolutely give us a call. We're fond of that sort of butt kicking."

"What she said. Plus, Silverale's made of synthol, which hasn't been invented yet," the ostensible adult here says. "And if you wander out of here drunk and get picked up by the cops, it's..." And he steps backwards into the transport tube, pointing fingerguns at Jazmin and grinning like the cat that ate the canary, "/your/ problem! Not my problem! All yours!"

Once they're upstairs -- whoosh, no platform even -- he's still walking backwards without looking, and unerringly avoiding tables and chairs. Jerk. "I've never encountered Eclipso myself, but I'm sure /someone/ in the Legion has. I'm familiar enough with a few variations of his history, though, this era's kind of my hobby. So yeah, sure, uhh-- rokk ninety-four krinn at gmail dot com. Briefings might be easier, though-- not everyone reads their memos."

Amy leaves the tube with a nimble hop, turning around to inspect the novel transportation. She happens to walk backward a few paces in doing so; when she turns back around and sees that Rokk is doing the same, she covers her face with a hand. At least she's giggling and not sighing.

"So, about the future. You said Gemworld's connected to some other place? Is magic, like, another science or do people still wear robes and grow crazy beards? Are there textbooks?"

"Not everyone reads memos, not everyone reads emails, not everyone /has/ a phone, let alone checks their text messages. You can always text me." Jazmin rattles off her number, she might be a future teen, but she's still a teen. She gestures at Rokk and leans in to explain to Amy. "The change in leadership from Rokk to myself was fairly recently, don't mind Rokk who is /still/ happy dancing. I haven't fought Eclipso either, but that doesnt' seem to stop me from fighting other baddies. I like to mix it up and keep it /exciting/." She heads towards the catering panels, to punch a few buttons and gets at least two silverales. "Amy? Branching out to silverale, or can I get you something else?"

"Whaaaat," protests Rokk, stopping about three feet away from the 'automat' and looking at Amy in mock-offense, "what's so funny? I know, it was weird, my name was taken! It's not like it's common on Earth." He pokes Jazmin in the arm when she hands over his silverale, eyebrows lifting. "Who's Gil! Should I know him? Or her?"

Popping the top off his bottle, the guy with the terminal case of Somewhat Embarrassing Uncle Who Was Cool When You Were Five finally swings himself into a seat, straddling it and spinning around to face the two teenagers. "Sorcerer's World," he confirms to Amy. "I don't know a whole hell of a lot about it, Kinetix and Dragonmage would really be the ones to ask. But that's where this jackass Mordru came from, that we were fighting. Will fight. Whatever. That a bunch of Legions in a bunch of futures fought. I hate time differentials. I think they had textbooks there? I can't remember any of it straight, my head got screwed with a lot around then."

Amy shakes her head. "Water. Amethysts and alcohol don't really mix. Greek thing. Blame Bacchus." She pauses, frowning and getting a far-away look in her eyes. "I wonder if that really happened. I mean, Bacchus obviously existed at some point."

The teen exhales and sits down across from Rokk, sitting up primly. Proper posture was one of things her mother absolutely insisted on, which made Amy's transition to gothiness very difficult. "I guess it is kind of exciting," she initially replies to Jazmin, but turns to address Rokk as well. "And it sounds like you guys have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. I, um, just started. This year, really."

Amy raises her hand, seemingly inspecting her nails. She crooks a finger just so and turns her palm up. A glittering purple light appears, flashing like gems. "Maybe Eclipso isn't the end of the world or anything, but he's killed people. Almost killed me. Um, probably still wants to."

The light disappears and Amy looks up. She smiles sheepishly. "Sorry to kill the mood. It's just--uh, Rokk? I'm guessing the Amethyst that helped the Legion out was kind of a badass, from the way you started looking at me. Right?"

"Oh!" Jazmin smirks at Rokk at the poking and then taps a finger to her chin. "Mmmm. No.. I dont think you've met Gil. You should.. he's really very good company. Zen. Not much of a talker though." She takes a drink from her own bottle and then her expression shows recognition at a name being dropped around. Names really as she sets her drink down to fetch Amy her water. Filtered and everything. "Mordru is a name I know entirely too well, and have fought. We sort of make few assumptions about who has seen what, and just /ask/. Or at least /I/ just ask, because we come from so many flavours of future, it's easier. Some of us have more experience than others. Perhaps bizarrely, I was fairly new in my future, but somehow I'm not really new here. It gets weird."

Amy and Rokk have taken over a table, along with silverales for Jazmin and Rokk, and now a water for Amy as Jazmin brings it over. Call it late on a summer's afternoon, relaxed and casual chatting.

Rokk just squints up at Jazmin. Gil is Zen. He finishes the squint off suspiciously, then slouches down and drinks his silverale. "A badass? I guess? She was a thousand years old and a ghost, so you can rest assured," he puts the bottle down on the table, then rests his chin on his crossed forearms, over the back of the chair, "it was you I was looking at that like, not her. I know you might not ever be her. /Probably/ won't, in fact, since this isn't my past. Don't worry about whether or not we're taking this seriously, if that's what's going on." He glances up and over at Jazmin again, looking thoughtful. "I think I had something like this conversation with you, too."

"Thousand year old ghosts are pretty awesome," Amy murmurs. She crosses her arms.

The looks up toward the ceiling in a move that every high school teacher will recognize as mid-lecture mind wander. Amy is faintly smiling, though, and punctually responds to Rokk when he finishes: "I promise I'll believe in myself, coach."

"It's not about seriousness. I guess I... I mean, it seems like it's been forever since I've been on Earth, and I sort of wanted to go back to just being--this." She tugs at her bomber jacket. "Normal. It's kind of hard when I'm around someone named Cosmic Boy." Amy grins. "Sorry."

The teen stands up. "Alright, you're about to see a magic trick. Spoilers, I'm really a blonde. Don't laugh. I'm not proud of it." She reaches up and grasps the amulet around her neck, closes her eyes, and then with a flash--

"Yeah, we had this sort of chat." Jazmin agrees with Rokk and then she shrugs. "And then you introduced me to a couple of /dieties/, handed me a silverale and somehow 'normal' seems more like a rinse cycle than a lifestyle." She slides herslef into a seat at the table, pretty much as Amy stands up to do her /magic/. "Oh no! Not.. a /blonde!/"

He certainly looks amused for a second, there -- 'coach' -- but then Amy's actual difficulty with the situation comes out, and it is a completely incomprehensible difficulty to someone like Rokk Krinn. So he focuses on something else. "Ugh, /grife/, that is *not* my *name!*" Cos complains, head already in the perfect place for him to just sort of mush his hands up into his hair and look /incredibly beleaguered/. "Just Rokk. Just call me Rokk. Because apparently you're from Bizarro World and 'Cos' is too many syllables."

But then hey, spoilers? What? Oh. What? "This isn't going to exude any secondhand turn-you-into-a-newt magical radiation or anything, is it?" He pushes himself up in the chair again, and scoops up his bottle of silverale. And then grins rakishly at Jazmin. "Deities who have more drama than /we/ d--" Arm up to shield his eyes!

Blonde wasn't the thing Amy should have warned about. There's a lot of purple. A lot of silky, fabulous purple. And a little tiara. The only thing missing is a bird to alight on the teen's outstretched hand.

It's outstretched because she's looking at the silken ribbon attached to her fingers. It billows gracefully behind her despite the lack of dramatic wind effects. "I think it's a little overdoing it, but..." 'Amy' rolls her eyes.

"I am a princess, after all. You two have me thinking about how I'm going to look in the history books. That's what my mom would worry about, anyway. She got really, really aristocratic the second we got to Gemworld."

The princess brushes her (much longer, now) hair over her shoulders. "Anyway. Let me try this again: I'm Princess Amaya Amethyst. Uh, savior of Gemworld or something, I guess. I don't think I have any associated prophecies yet."

Jazmin was about to make some snarky comment about dieties and their drama, or .. perhaps.. about blonde. And then the Purple happens and the woman is, in a rare thing indeed, just speechless with the /girly/ influx. The speechless only lasts a moment before she gestures. "Suddenly, I /get/ the notion of the black. You need /something/ to offset that."

"Hey, which new Legionnaire joined this time? Wait, don't tell me, you're..." He consider the dress. "... Violet Lass? Purple Princess? Oh well... welcome aboard?"

"Wh--" Rokk starts laughing; he can't help himself. It's not even the blonde, or all the purple, it's the sheer Putting-Up-With-This attitude Amaya's got. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with a lot of purple. But. Hey, the other princesses that kick around here don't dress like that, so you've definitely got a unique, market-cornered look!" More Dad Jokes, someone stop him. "It's up to you how you act, but that's a good thing to watch for--"

Glance over at Garth's entrance, and Cos grins. "Do you ask everyone that? This is Princess Amaya Amethyst of Gemworld, and she'd like our help kicking Eclipso's butt. And she's also got Mordru problems. Amy? This is Garth Ranzz, he's uncivilized by most cultural standards, but he's a great guy otherwise."

"They've met." Jazmin pops in with, as her phone makes the bingledybeepy insistant noises that phones are fond of doing. "Garth and Amy that is." This time, she pushes herself to her feet as she reads from whatever it is her phone is telling her. "Rokk.. if you happy dance over /me/ getting my silverale inturrupted rather than /you/ getting your silverale inturrupted.. you'd probably be entirely justified. But /I/ am not going to be here to witness it. Amy, nice to meet you, drop by for social anytime, call if you need butt kicking assistance. Hi Garth, bye Garth. Rokk.. stop by later, you can meet Gil, we can chat." And on those notes, Jazmin is heading out.. pausing to reach over and snag her silverale before she gets too far without it.

Booster flies in, and probably would have collided with Jazmin if she had not paused. He is not in costume, at least not visibly, since he is wearing a light blue button down shirt with a narrow darker blue tie (it does have fine gold diagonal stripes on it), mirrored sunglasses, and grey slacks. He must have been at one of his day jobs. "Jazzy Jaz," he greets the woman, pointing her way with sidelong finger-guns. Yo, Garth. Cos. Uh... lady in purple whom I don't know." From his attitude and greetings, he is clearly starting to feel a lot like his old self again.

Amethyst puts her hands on her hips and sighs. There is more than a touch of melodrama.

"I know, right?" she says to Jazmin. "But everyone in Gemworld wears one team color like it's the worst trust building exercise ever." She exhales and puts on a strong face. "Bye, Jazmin. I seriously will. It gets really weird hanging out with old wizards after a while."

The princess turns to Garth as Rokk introduces her. She smiles slightly. "Being introduced is one of the few fun parts. Hi, Garth. I had black hair last time." Amethyst grabs a bit of hair near her temple. "With purple there. Baxter Building? And--"

Amethyst is interrupted by a flying person, which she is surprisingly used to at this point. She briefly looks Booster over, and then turns to Rokk to continue: "--and, uh, who's Mordru?"

Looking blankly at the Princess, Garth's face dawns with realization as he jabs a finger towards Amethyst. "Oh, you're that Amy girl who said she was a princess from another... that's right. Oh well hey, now you've met Rokk. So she's not..."

Garth's sentence tails off as he blinks towards Rokk. "Wait, what? She what? You know Mordru?"

Rokk! Is pointing! At Jazmin! And /grinning again/! Because he's /horrible/. "Don't look at me," he sings out, "or you'll be here for the happy dancing! I'll stop by."

Then he coughs into his hand. "Booster! Hi. You look like you're feeling better. Amy, I'm going to finish my silverale if you don't know Mordru, because you know what, maybe you -don't- have problems with the guy, and I don't want to be the one inviting trouble." Then he gestures grandly. "Princess Amaya Amethyst of Gemworld, and/or Amy, depending; Booster Gold."

Booster takes off his sunglasses, tucking them into his breast pocket. "I -am- feeling better, Cos, thank you." He lands near the automat, but turns to look back and say to Amethyst, "Hi there. Nice to meet you." This is accompanied by a snap-point in Amy's direction, along with a wink. Then, the blond man regards the automat controls thoughtfully, rubbing his chin in a contemplative manner.

"Seriously don't know him. Can you describe him? Maybe I met him and no one told me his middle name was Mordru or whatever."

Amethyst follows Rokk's indication to Booster Gold. She looks at him more closely this time, though the teen is now affected some amount of royal haughtiness now that she's wearing a crown. No callous staring like earlier.

The illusion doesn't last long. She snap-points back at Booster, but fails to wink.

"Oh. Uh, Mordru's this old guy from Sorceror's World. Big bushy beard, winged hat, dresses like a medievial elf, but can get as big as he wants to be. A sorceror of some sort. A pain in the ass," Garth explains. "If you don't know anyone like that, count yourself lucky. He's reallllly old in our time, so... I dunno, you probably haven't met him." Glancing at Booster, the young man inquires, "Imra clear up everything okay?"

"Wow, your Mordru sounds like a three-year-old dressed him," Rokk says, startled. And, well, finishing off his silverale. He waves a hand in the air more or less in Amy's direction. "The two I'm more or less familiar with didn't look anything like that, except for the 'old' part. They had, like, war paint. And puffy pants and no shirts. Well. Sometimes. And sometimes just really like..." Impatient gesture this time. "Rich? And when he was in charge of things he more or less acted like a medieval Earth feudal lord with magic. His followers called him the Dark Lord. Otherwise, just a lot of conquering. But he took over the Sorcerer's World, and it sort of blew up... there were a lot of planets he blew up, I think." He reaches up to knuckle his eyes. "Seriously, Zoe or Xao. I am-- getting a headache trying to reconcile conflicting data."

"More or less, Garth," Booster replies, which is a little vague, but seems to be all the answer Garth is going to get to that question right now. "Oh, that Mordru guy. Wasn't he the one we used for that thing?" He seems to be certain that Garth will know exactly what he means by this, so does not bother to clarify. He takes an apple from the automat, and gives Amethyst a big, bright smile. Then, with a pat to Rokk's shoulder, he informs the older Legionnaire, "That's exactly why I try not to think about -anything-. You should try that out sometime."

"Both of your Mordrus sound like disasters," Amethyst says, grimacing. "'Dark Lord' does sound like it'd fit in with the mess I have going, but nope. Never heard of him."

The princess finally returns to her seat. The eternally billowing ribbon cape helpfully avoids being caught on anything as she does so. "Alright. Rokk, I have one last favor to ask." She musters up as serious a face as she can. "In return for never calling you Cosmic Boy again, do you have a couch somewhere I could crash on? I, um, tried sleeping at the Tower of Fate--like, Doctor Fate's place--but it really, severely freaks me out. I'll be gone as soon as I find a permanent place to stay. Royal promise."

"Oh yeah, Imra's thing for Xao?" Garth replies, scratching his head. "It involved one version of Mordru, anyway." Running his hand through his hair, Garth notices Booster's apple and grimaces. "Lemme get something to eat and be right back with you," he replies, as he heads towards the automat while Rokk gets to scrounge up a location for Amethyst.

"--um," says Rokk, still off balance from the combination of Booster's shot of irony in his arm and trying to think about Mordru, and suddenly on the spot. "That's-- actually Jazmin's call. Or Garth's, in her absence; he's Deputy Leader. Garth, she can borrow a room here, right?" He's already standing up, unhooking his omni from his belt, as if the question's a formality. "I'd just give you my couch, but it's here anyway..." Yeah. He's already scrolling through what room in the HQ's assigned to what purpose.

"You can stay in my room, if they don't have guest quarters open," Booster offers, to Amethyst, casually polishing the apple against his chest. "I just started moving into the headquarters, so I could just make other arrangements in the meantime. The room is kind of bare right now, though."

"Yeah, sorry," Amethyst says, smiling and waving her hands. "I'm just really sick of weaving beds out of tree branches and morning dew. The elf routine gets old, fast."

She gestures toward Booster. "I could even stay with--do you prefer Booster or Gold?"

Making his way back with a soyburger and sweet potato fries, Garth catches wind of his name being taken in vain. "Wait, what?" He looks from Rokk towards Amethyst, before eyerolling. "Well, we've got plenty of empty rooms. Tell you what, we can put you in a room next to Jeckie, she'll probably appreciate the company. Just don't say yes when she wants to take you out for dinner."

"Lucky there /is/ one next to Jeckie," Rokk tells Garth with his eyebrows up-- then hooks his omni on his belt, and offers Amy his arm. "I can show you there and how to work the controls for everything, if you're ready to zonk out."

"Oh, you can call me Booster. Or Michael, if you like... that's actually my name," Booster explains, to Amethyst. He gestures at himself, or at least the shirt and tie he is wearing. "I'm not in costume at the moment, Booster Gold is my superhero name." After a moment of thought, he adds, "If this -were- my costume, I guess I'd be Officeguy Man or something." When the rooming situation seems to be worked out, he cheerfully says, "Well, it was cool meeting you, Ms. Princess."

"Officeguy Man and Ms. Princess," Amethyst says thoughtfully. "Sounds like a good lineup for the fifth grade Justice Society." She glances back to Rokk, and hooks her arm in his with a theatrical swish of her ribbon cape.

"Bye, Michael. Bye, Garth. Don't let Mordru's fashion sense get you." The princess follows Rokk's lead, leaning over to whisper: "We're unhooking arms when we get to the tubes, right? That seems like it'd get messy."

"Pffft, for Mordru's fashion sense to get me, Imra would have to regress me all the way back to being five... shut up, Rokk!"