[He's sort of just shaking his head at the phone. Is Mick somewhere getting drunk when he's supposed to be his pick up? The details are vague on purpose, but Mick should recognize them.]
[It's true he tends to have a plan for everything. But if he's honest, he doesn't often think about his own death. He doesn't plan to die any time soon, so he hasn't considered what to do if he does. Or what he'd want. Maybe he should. But more importantly this line of question is kind of worrying him some. What is going on with Mick?]
I don't know how to answer that considering I don't plan to die.
What's gotten into you? You're standing me up in the rain and asking about pointless what-ifs.
Burn me. Scatter the ashes. Keep some if you want, or don't. Simple. Not like anyone's gonna mourn me but you and Lisa. Why bother thinking of any kind of funeral.
Spend the riches any way you want. Or bury them. Doesn't matter to me what you do with my stuff. I'll be dead.
[It's a depressing thing to think about and it's really no wonder why he doesn't think about it. He'd go out like the whisper of a frigid breeze in winter. No big party. No one crying. No one cares. So why make anything of it? Besides big things like a funeral with the whole mess of a wake is just too damn expensive. He's not paying people to dress up his body and lie about how much they're going to miss him. The whole damn thing is a racket and they're not getting a cent out of him even dead. Something private. Leaving it to Mick, no matter how hard it might be for him, would be the best way to go.
Course his riches are one thing but that Cold Gun is another. Could he let a weapon like that in anyone else's hands? There's no one he wants the torch passed to.]
Keep the gun for yourself and only you, or destroy it.
[ But it's what he needs. He knows that Leonard died on his own terms, but there's been some lingering doubts about his remnants. Mick thinks this is probably just his imagination answering himself, but it helps. It really, really does. He still can't bring himself to break it to Lisa. As a time-traveler, the moment he should do it is always just a shot away, and a 'never' all the same. ]
Sure you need something good and useful to remember me by. I don't want it in anyone else's hands.
I don't really want it in yours if I'm honest, but you're the only one that knows how to use it properly. Might need it in an emergency.
[Just as he kept that ring and wore it all the time. The heist might've gone wrong and Mick nearly died but it was the one thing he got out of it to remind him. No more mistakes.]
That'd be a cool trick if you could pull it off. Don't think even you could though.
[ What if he isn't crazy?
That's the most dangerous thought for a crazy man, but maybe it's just that time of night. Maybe he's had just enough beer. What if this is real and he's really, really talking to Len again?
Then his device must be picking up transmissions from the time stream. If he jumped ship right now, he'd land in a world that still had Leonard Snart in it. It would also mean that soon enough, the replies were going to stop coming. Mick's not prepared for the flutter of panic that provokes in him. ]
[ He can hardly believe that he's giving serious consideration to an idea which, if run by anyone else on the ship, would earn him a dogpile of people trying to stop him. ]
Best case scenario, it's all real and then he's kind of screwed. Someone, or somewhere, was going to get destroyed by a time wraith. Worst case scenario, it's not real, something goes wrong, and he dies. Also the Waverider is down a jumpship.
So it's a win/win, right?
Rather than attempt a reply, Mick goes and does what needs to be done. Which means Leonard Snart is probably storming down some city street in the dark and the rain, furious, when a space-ship the size of a city bus suddenly outpaces him and lands in the intersection ahead of him.
[Len is making his way downtown, walking fast through a pretty quiet side of town, out of sight and inconspicuous. Of course all of that sort of gets blown out of the water when some sort of ship glides through the street to land at an intersection ahead of him.
He stops, blinking and staring, wondering if he should run or just pull his weapon and hope for the best. What if he's seeing things? Of course the place doesn't get enough foot traffic that anyone else is seeing this but him. No doubt anyone else walking by would've whipped out a phone and started recording by now. Not like Central City hasn't seen their fair share of weird, but never aliens...(not yet anyway)
He pulls his cold gun and it whines to life, watching the thing closely and approaching it with caution, giving it space while waiting to see who steps out. He's just about to text mick and warn him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
don't ask me how this is working idk interdimensional/across time texting feck it
Where are you? You were supposed to be back an hour ago.
no subject
Sorry, Boss. ETA 15 min. You ok?
no subject
[And not dead, like he's supposed to be.]
Do you remember the pick up?
no subject
It's the crane parked on 4th and 8th, right?
no subject
Where is your head? The docks.
The crane was a few weeks back.
Carrier. Half a snowflake. 5563.
[He's sort of just shaking his head at the phone. Is Mick somewhere getting drunk when he's supposed to be his pick up? The details are vague on purpose, but Mick should recognize them.]
no subject
[ He won't, though. He'll be in the ship's galley, sucking down some hard whiskey because this? This is fucked. ]
I've got a weird question.
no subject
What is it?
no subject
no subject
Where is this coming from?
no subject
no subject
I don't know how to answer that considering I don't plan to die.
What's gotten into you? You're standing me up in the rain and asking about pointless what-ifs.
Why are you stalling?
no subject
I'm coming. I still have 10 min. Check your watch.
If I kick it on you I want a viking funeral.
no subject
Are you planning on dying Mick? You're not going to do something stupid, are you?
no subject
I showed you mine. Where's yours?
no subject
Spend the riches any way you want. Or bury them. Doesn't matter to me what you do with my stuff. I'll be dead.
[It's a depressing thing to think about and it's really no wonder why he doesn't think about it. He'd go out like the whisper of a frigid breeze in winter. No big party. No one crying. No one cares. So why make anything of it? Besides big things like a funeral with the whole mess of a wake is just too damn expensive. He's not paying people to dress up his body and lie about how much they're going to miss him. The whole damn thing is a racket and they're not getting a cent out of him even dead. Something private. Leaving it to Mick, no matter how hard it might be for him, would be the best way to go.
Course his riches are one thing but that Cold Gun is another. Could he let a weapon like that in anyone else's hands? There's no one he wants the torch passed to.]
Keep the gun for yourself and only you, or destroy it.
no subject
Keep the gun for me? Like a souvenir? Sappy.
no subject
I don't really want it in yours if I'm honest, but you're the only one that knows how to use it properly. Might need it in an emergency.
[Just as he kept that ring and wore it all the time. The heist might've gone wrong and Mick nearly died but it was the one thing he got out of it to remind him. No more mistakes.]
What are you doing Mick?
no subject
[ If that isn't the truth, nothing is. ]
no subject
We're in the clear anyway.
no subject
[ What if he isn't crazy?
That's the most dangerous thought for a crazy man, but maybe it's just that time of night. Maybe he's had just enough beer. What if this is real and he's really, really talking to Len again?
Then his device must be picking up transmissions from the time stream. If he jumped ship right now, he'd land in a world that still had Leonard Snart in it. It would also mean that soon enough, the replies were going to stop coming. Mick's not prepared for the flutter of panic that provokes in him. ]
no subject
Mick, are you drunk? You're acting really strange.
no subject
You still at the drop off point?
[ He can hardly believe that he's giving serious consideration to an idea which, if run by anyone else on the ship, would earn him a dogpile of people trying to stop him. ]
no subject
Yes. I'm at the drop point. I should've just started walking.
I don't know what's gotten into you and I don't like it. Get your head out of your ass or you and I are done.
no subject
He's doing this.
Best case scenario, it's all real and then he's kind of screwed. Someone, or somewhere, was going to get destroyed by a time wraith. Worst case scenario, it's not real, something goes wrong, and he dies. Also the Waverider is down a jumpship.
So it's a win/win, right?
Rather than attempt a reply, Mick goes and does what needs to be done. Which means Leonard Snart is probably storming down some city street in the dark and the rain, furious, when a space-ship the size of a city bus suddenly outpaces him and lands in the intersection ahead of him.
There. Now they can both think they're crazy. ]
no subject
downtown, walking fastthrough a pretty quiet side of town, out of sight and inconspicuous. Of course all of that sort of gets blown out of the water when some sort of ship glides through the street to land at an intersection ahead of him.He stops, blinking and staring, wondering if he should run or just pull his weapon and hope for the best. What if he's seeing things? Of course the place doesn't get enough foot traffic that anyone else is seeing this but him. No doubt anyone else walking by would've whipped out a phone and started recording by now. Not like Central City hasn't seen their fair share of weird, but never aliens...(not yet anyway)
He pulls his cold gun and it whines to life, watching the thing closely and approaching it with caution, giving it space while waiting to see who steps out. He's just about to text mick and warn him.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)