[ So sometimes life with the Guardians is rough; sometimes jobs go south (way south), sometimes jobs are just few and far between; sometimes they only have enough fuel to get them to the next station, where they're forced to split up and take local bounties and beat the tar out of criminals for cash.
Sometimes taking local bounties also means setting elaborate traps. Staging illicit deals or trades of goods; pretending to be some sort of hacking wizard to catch out some crime syndicate or other; flirting with a really hot chick to get her to bring you back to her den of terrors, then having the team bust in at the last second to arrest her.
A day or two later, and Peter's wrists are still raw from the rope burns. (Because for a second there, he honestly thought the guys wouldn't show up at all. For a second, he honestly thought he was on his own, and only realized, as the woman's knife was swinging down, how very screwed he was.
But Gamora swooped in, blocked the blow and knocked the woman the fuck out, and Peter had nearly kissed the Zehoberi once she'd untied him.
But he didn't. Of course he didn't. Because he's pretty sure Gamora would have gladly stabbed him in place of their serial killer.)
The only consolation is that they have enough cash now to take get some much-needed supplies, which the group has sent Gamora and Peter to purchase. Apparently sending Peter on his own for the supply runs is out of the cards after the last time he was nearly arrested by local law enforcement -- evidently, while the Nova Corps had wiped their records, not everyone had gotten that memo.
They're nearly done -- just the matter of picking up the last packages of MREs and various snacks -- when Peter frowns, shifting the bags in his arms as he turns and sniffs.
There's something-- salty in the air. Buttery, but light. And it's seriously familiar, instantly bringing to mind movie theaters and sticky floors and dark rooms filled with seats and watching raptly as Bruce Willis single-handedly fought off a group of high-class robbers--
Holy shit, it's popcorn. ]
Hey. Do you smell that? Please tell me you smell that.
[ Gamora would never be one to admit it, but even when they were scraping the bottom of the barrel, even when Drax and Rocket and Quill were being absolutely insufferable, making her roll her eyes and sigh in exasperation, she found herself oddly content with the new life she was leading.
They would do whatever they needed to do to get by, but even when things were really shitty, there was always a choice to be made. There was a freedom in that she appreciated.
What she did not appreciate was how vague a question Quill just posed. The market area was crowded, and rife with the smells of too many bodies packed together, various foods and animals. She has no idea how good or bad a Terran's sense of smell is, so really, he could be talking about anything.
[ He sniffs at the air again and-- and yeah, that's for sure popcorn. For realsies popcorn. He'd bet his life on it.
It's at about this point that his face splits into an excited grin. ]
Dude. Dude. We've gotta find out where that's coming from.
[ Peter shifts the bags around to free up a hand; it's a huge testament to how far they've come in their friendship that when he grabs Gamora's hand, he doesn't immediately fear losing his arm at the elbow. As it is, though, he starts yanking her in the direction of that scent. ]
[ -- wait, of course she doesn't. She doesn't know what he's talking about. ]
It's a Terran delicacy. [ liar. ] It's like. We heat these seeds, right? And they just kinda explode into these sorta light fluffy, bite-sized things--
Holy shit.
[ They turn the corner, and they're greeted by the sight of a small stand with a multi-colored canopy. To one side of it is a popcorn cart, and on various tables are books and devices, clothing and accessories, and toys and trinkets that Peter recognizes as distinctly Terran. Sure hope you like being dragged, Gamora, since that's what's happening right now. ]
[ She has a hard time believing a delicacy from any planet would find its way to a pit like this, but then again, she knows nothing about Terra, so she'll just have to take him at his word. (It really doesn't sound very appetizing, though.)
She minds being dragged just a little bit, and makes that clear with a loud sigh, yanking her hand back once they get to the stand. ]
The next time you see fit to drag me across the marketplace, I'd appreciate a better explanation.
[ And a pause, as she gazes at the various... stuff strewn about, all of it completely alien to her. ]
It's stuff from Earth. [ And he says it sort of absently, like he's still sort of reeling from the shock of it. Which he is. Because holy shit. He expected the popcorn, but all of this is a huge goddamn surprise.
He juggles the bags again to turn the knobs on a nearby Etch-a-Sketch. ]
Holy crap, I haven't played with one of these in forever.
[ She'll just... grab a couple of those bags from him before he goes dropping all of their stuff. She can't really fault his enthusiasm or his distraction- she knows what it's like to miss home.
She watches him a moment. The device seems rudimentary, at best.
[ He flashes her a grateful look when she takes some if the bags from him, and-- really, all he's doing is making a twisting line on the Etch-a-Sketch, so it's small wonder that she's not impressed. ]
It's just a toy. Like, you mess with the knobs and you make a line like this to draw stuff, see? But there were some dudes who could recreate the Mona Lisa on these things. They probably had a lot of time on their hands.
[ But then he forgets about that toy -- etch-a-sketches are dumb anyway -- and grabs her hand again to drag her to a different table, sorry bruh. ]
Oh, hey, we should see if there's a copy of Footloose somewhere!
[ Yeah no. She remains unimpressed by the etch-a-sketch. What is a Mona Lisa? Can you eat it
Aaaand then he's dragging her around again, and she has to shift the bags a little herself to keep from losing them. She tugs her hand away again when they stop, content to let him look for the moment. As she gazes at the various knick-knacks strewn about, she spots a little tin box, painted red with yellow stars, a metal crank sticking from one side.
She casts a look around and reaches to turn the crank. It plays an odd little tune, tinny, strange, but somehow charming.
That is, until the top of the box snaps open and a strange doll on a spring pops out.
She'll never live it down, but she actually jumps a little, startled. ]
You were! You were totally like, What is this hellbeast? [ Maybe the words aren't right, but the tone and the change of facial expression screams Gamora. ]
If your hands weren't full, you totally would've pulled a knife on it.
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no subject
Sometimes taking local bounties also means setting elaborate traps. Staging illicit deals or trades of goods; pretending to be some sort of hacking wizard to catch out some crime syndicate or other; flirting with a really hot chick to get her to bring you back to her den of terrors, then having the team bust in at the last second to arrest her.
A day or two later, and Peter's wrists are still raw from the rope burns. (Because for a second there, he honestly thought the guys wouldn't show up at all. For a second, he honestly thought he was on his own, and only realized, as the woman's knife was swinging down, how very screwed he was.
But Gamora swooped in, blocked the blow and knocked the woman the fuck out, and Peter had nearly kissed the Zehoberi once she'd untied him.
But he didn't. Of course he didn't. Because he's pretty sure Gamora would have gladly stabbed him in place of their serial killer.)
The only consolation is that they have enough cash now to take get some much-needed supplies, which the group has sent Gamora and Peter to purchase. Apparently sending Peter on his own for the supply runs is out of the cards after the last time he was nearly arrested by local law enforcement -- evidently, while the Nova Corps had wiped their records, not everyone had gotten that memo.
They're nearly done -- just the matter of picking up the last packages of MREs and various snacks -- when Peter frowns, shifting the bags in his arms as he turns and sniffs.
There's something-- salty in the air. Buttery, but light. And it's seriously familiar, instantly bringing to mind movie theaters and sticky floors and dark rooms filled with seats and watching raptly as Bruce Willis single-handedly fought off a group of high-class robbers--
Holy shit, it's popcorn. ]
Hey. Do you smell that? Please tell me you smell that.
no subject
They would do whatever they needed to do to get by, but even when things were really shitty, there was always a choice to be made. There was a freedom in that she appreciated.
What she did not appreciate was how vague a question Quill just posed. The market area was crowded, and rife with the smells of too many bodies packed together, various foods and animals. She has no idea how good or bad a Terran's sense of smell is, so really, he could be talking about anything.
She wrinkles her nose slightly. ]
Smell what?
no subject
It's at about this point that his face splits into an excited grin. ]
Dude. Dude. We've gotta find out where that's coming from.
[ Peter shifts the bags around to free up a hand; it's a huge testament to how far they've come in their friendship that when he grabs Gamora's hand, he doesn't immediately fear losing his arm at the elbow. As it is, though, he starts yanking her in the direction of that scent. ]
C'mon, c'mon.
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Doesn't stop her from sounding exasperated already. ]
What are you talking about?
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[ -- wait, of course she doesn't. She doesn't know what he's talking about. ]
It's a Terran delicacy. [ liar. ] It's like. We heat these seeds, right? And they just kinda explode into these sorta light fluffy, bite-sized things--
Holy shit.
[ They turn the corner, and they're greeted by the sight of a small stand with a multi-colored canopy. To one side of it is a popcorn cart, and on various tables are books and devices, clothing and accessories, and toys and trinkets that Peter recognizes as distinctly Terran. Sure hope you like being dragged, Gamora, since that's what's happening right now. ]
no subject
She minds being dragged just a little bit, and makes that clear with a loud sigh, yanking her hand back once they get to the stand. ]
The next time you see fit to drag me across the marketplace, I'd appreciate a better explanation.
[ And a pause, as she gazes at the various... stuff strewn about, all of it completely alien to her. ]
What is all this?
no subject
He juggles the bags again to turn the knobs on a nearby Etch-a-Sketch. ]
Holy crap, I haven't played with one of these in forever.
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She watches him a moment. The device seems rudimentary, at best.
Terran technology was... odd. ]
Is that all it does?
no subject
It's just a toy. Like, you mess with the knobs and you make a line like this to draw stuff, see? But there were some dudes who could recreate the Mona Lisa on these things. They probably had a lot of time on their hands.
[ But then he forgets about that toy -- etch-a-sketches are dumb anyway -- and grabs her hand again to drag her to a different table, sorry bruh. ]
Oh, hey, we should see if there's a copy of Footloose somewhere!
no subject
What is a Mona Lisa? Can you eat itAaaand then he's dragging her around again, and she has to shift the bags a little herself to keep from losing them. She tugs her hand away again when they stop, content to let him look for the moment. As she gazes at the various knick-knacks strewn about, she spots a little tin box, painted red with yellow stars, a metal crank sticking from one side.
She casts a look around and reaches to turn the crank. It plays an odd little tune, tinny, strange, but somehow charming.
That is, until the top of the box snaps open and a strange doll on a spring pops out.
She'll never live it down, but she actually jumps a little, startled. ]
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LAUGHING.
This guyyy. ]
Oh my god, you should've seen your face! Oh man. World's deadliest woman, frightened by a Jack-in-the-Box.
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I wasn't frightened.
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If your hands weren't full, you totally would've pulled a knife on it.
Oh man, I can die happy now. That was great.