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Leaning back in his chair, Apollo stretches while giving out a loud yawn. He'd holed himself up in the Sensoriums, leaving the entrance open in case someone really wanted to use them, for a few hours. A large stack of paper was in front of him, and the table and floor around him was littered with various bits of crumpled... No, folded paper. Paper crabs, paper cranes, paper frogs, paper bugs... He's obviously been busy. In his hand, held between two fingers, is the start of another folded paper project.

He looks at the paper and sets it down, leaning over the back of his chair and letting his arms hang loosely for a bit. He's been at this for too long, but somehow the whole 'wait for a crewmember to stop by the most popular part of the ship for a bit of conversation' plan failed. "Maybe I should have tried the cafeteria?"

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"Can't complain. We chose the job." Well, Lyle did, anyway.

"There's a few of us here, from different universe's Legions. And you don't really stop being a Legionnaire." You pretty much married the job.

"That's true. We did choose it. But complaining about it is a perk of the job." One he abuses readily.

He nods. "Well, one of my team members is on board for sure, and the others... Well, if they aren't on here, then they're on the Carrier."

Lyle grins at that. "We mostly complain to each other. Other people might not realize that we love it."

"That's good. I'm hoping all of my teammates are safe. We weren't in the most secure position when we were picked up." He's going to believe they're alive until he's been proven wrong beyond all doubt.

"Well, the civilians get intimidated if you complain to them," He laughs.

"Well, luck being like it is, they probably are." He crosses his arms, glancing down at where the pod chambers were. "It would be more convenient if we could identify everyone in the pods though, wouldn't it?"

"I guess that too." Lyle mostly just keeps his griping to a minimum when possible. Not that it's always possible.

Lyle nods. "I'm sure people are working on it, but it seems like one crisis after another."

The Authority turn griping into an art form. It's one of the few perks they'll admit to.

"Isn't that just the story of my life?" He chuckles a bit, resting a cheek against his palm. "Always with the crises."

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