[ They know that voice. They know it well. But the tone is all wrong, pulling at memories from years and years ago. Memories from before they became the Meta, back when they were still a singular being. When they thought that "Agent Maine" was the best that they could be.
That is not their name.
Behind the gold dome of their visor, the Meta bares their teeth in a low snarl as they swivel their head toward Washington. It's a warning, and it's reflected in their body language: head lowered, muscles tense, weight pitched forward as though they're about to charge. There are no words, but the meaning is clear: what the fuck did you say? ]
no subject
That is not their name.
Behind the gold dome of their visor, the Meta bares their teeth in a low snarl as they swivel their head toward Washington. It's a warning, and it's reflected in their body language: head lowered, muscles tense, weight pitched forward as though they're about to charge. There are no words, but the meaning is clear: what the fuck did you say? ]