[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/326198770809438208/985995985132077176/ironladlogo.png[/img][/center] "Boss?" Harley groaned, squinting as the lights in his visor flickered back to life. "Boss? Boss!" [color=f33c33]"F.R.I.D.A.Y....?"[/color] She chuckled, dryly. "Who'd you think?" Harley shook his head, grimacing as he felt the shooting pain his shoulder. [color=f33c33]"Where am I? What...the robot things...?"[/color] "They captured you, boss. I dunno where we are now, but we've got no wi-fi or phone signal, which means we're either in a Faraday cage, or..." [color=f33c33]"Space,"[/color] Harley interjected, sighing. [color=f33c33]"Ooof course. Ugh, I should have finished that Starwalker suit before I started the Iron Legion..."[/color] "Vital signs stabilising, boss. Rise and shine." Gritting his teeth, Harley pushed himself up and out of the cryo-pod.[color=f33c33]"Yeah, yeah, alright [i]mom,[/i] I'm going, sheesh..." [/color] Harley's iron sabatons hit the ground with a weighty thud, the inner mechanisms stabilising his would-be stumble. Turning towards the blinking life signs on his display, the jaw of his mask slid open. His faceplate pulled back to reveal his true face, blinking as he brushed his fringe aside. Oh, crap, yeah. The armour. [color=f33c33]"Um...Hi,"[/color] he waved sheepishly, the servos in his suit whirring with each movement.[color=f33c33]"I'm...Iron Lad, if we're doing our made up names—"[/color] he gestured towards 'Origami' and 'Speed'. [color=f33c33]"From Earth,"[/color] then towards Terra. [color=f33c33]"—And I know this,"[/color] and then gestured down across his suit, acutely aware of the similarities between it and the Sentinels. [color=f33c33]"—Might be setting of some alarm bells in your heads right about now, but trust me, I've got nothing to do with them. Frankly, I don't even know what they are. Although if I were to make an educated guess from what you've said, I'm willing to bet they're belonging to one of my, or my predecessor's, variants. Just...spitballing here. So..." [/color] He clapped his metal hands together, flinching slightly at the sudden loud clang. [color=f33c33]"Since Tommy's got clothes now, I think it's fair to say the most pressing matter we have to attend to here is getting out. I mean, we've got plenty of time to work out how to stop the Beyonder when we aren't being ferried straight to him, right? So, I know we've just met and we could all be literally anyone, but I think if we've got murderous, thieving or otherwise unsavoury tendencies, we can agree to just leave all that at the door and concentrate on not dying or being imprisoned right now. Who's with me?"[/color] He grinned, disarmingly, sheepishly. [color=ed1c24]"Aaaanyone?"[/color] [hr] [hr] [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/326198770809438208/985998049581080606/jasperlogo.png[/img][/center] As he had suspected he would, Jasper awoke later than the rest with a horrible pounding in his skull. Christ, that hurts. His fault for fiddling with his metabolism, he supposed—all that ethanol was hitting him at once. A hangover was like a full-scale war against his body: Endocrinal, vascular, gastrointestinal—it was like doing your A-Levels with someone doing [i]you[/i] in the A the whole time. So much biology bullshit, so many reasons to collapse into a pile of misery and impulsivity and scream into the floor until it passed naturally. Oh, terrific. He could see again. Thank god—he’d regenerated eyes once before, and now he needed contacts. Clutching his head, Jasper grit his teeth and heaved his heavy body out from the cryo-pod. His steps were laboured, his feet heavy, his guts doing their own little performance of fucking Riverdance from the feel of it. There was a lump in his throat, the floodgates ready to open. He wasted no time. He didn’t readjust to take in his surroundings, nor greet the strange blurred shapes that he was pretty sure were people. “Washrooms” and “adjacent to your cryopods” bounced around his skull until they hit a brain-cell not drowning in Carlsberg, and that was his cue. Sluggishly, he darted to the side, awkwardly staggering past anyone in his way and straight for the restroom. He headbutted the door, pushing it open with his forehead, and stumbled in. There was a soft thud, like something hitting the ground, a horrid retching, and what sounded vaguely like the great cascading of a mighty, malt waterfall. There was a brief panting, and a sigh of relief, and then a flush. It was quiet for a moment, and then Jasper heard the most cringe-inducing flirty back and forth he’d had the displeasure of being present for. Quick to come in after Kid Hulk fired back his response, the washroom door swung open with a kick. In the doorway stood Jasper, head back up to heaven, leg holding the door open, and mouth open. [color=e7a62f][h3][i][b]“AAAAAAAaaaaauuuuuugghhhhhh,”[/b][/i][/h3][/color] he vocalised his displeasure quite plainly, head rolling on his neck back down to its usual angle as he grimaced. [color=e7a62f][i][b]“Guh.” [/b][/i][/color] There was no way he was holding that in. Patiently, Jasper cleared his throat and kicked the washroom door fully open, stepping out from the door-frame as it slowly creaked shut behind him. He reached both hands into his jacket pocket, producing a well-worn flip lighter from one and a hand-rolled cigarette from the other. Clutching it between his pointer and middle, he slipped the business end between his lips and flipped his lighter open. He brought the flame up and lit, and took a deep puff as he pocketed the lighter. He stared at them for a moment as they—presumably—stared at him, taking drags of his cigarette. Finally, he relented, taking one last puff and slipping the cigarette out with his two fingers. [color=e7a62f]“Jasper,”[/color] he declared, his francophonic baritone hoarse from a dried throat. [center][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/15aa6c119f90930142a1a6ec14fada7e/510c35a2dfe87c9d-77/s500x750/8eea3fbd9740989e1fa3eccddad1961ec08dc68a.gif[/img][/center] His gaze flitted towards Origami, a brow quirked inquisitively. She seemed to be just as pleased with the whole situation as he was—good. They could both suffer in silent solidarity. His acknowledgement would remain unspoken for now, though: He'd have to feel things out first before he went buddying up with anyone. Unless they had French people in space, he figured his accent was sufficient enough proof of his earthbound status. [color=e7a62f]"Does anyone have any plans for 'Iron Lad', or shall I start flushing bits of myself down the toilet?”[/color] Considering the gravity of the situation, Jasper remained remarkably calm about it all—Partially because this wasn't the first time he had woken up somewhere strange with no memory of how he'd gotten there, and partially because that cigarette wasn't just tobacco. This was tits, as far as he was concerned. Wicked way to spend a Sunday morning.