[ She doesn't need to touch him to know that he's angry. It's all in his voice and, as clueless as she is about-- almost everything, at most times, an angry tone is at least something she recognizes.
But-- somehow, hearing it from Peter and directed at her doesn't seem so scary or upsetting. Should she be upset about it? Because she's heard him sound this way at the others but even then she knows that he cares about them. It-- doesn't feel like the same kind of anger that she's known before. From Ego.
So she doesn't flinch at the way he raises his voice like she might have otherwise. Instead she looks up at him, having to angle her head back quite a bit to be able to see him past the rim of the sombrero, and she offers a quizzical look. ]
I-- don't know. You are angry with me. Is it because I tried to have fun?
[ A beat, as he process that, then his face twists. ]
Wait, no. Yes to the angry. Not to the having—
[ Peter cuts himself off, and he lets out a frustrated noise, rubbing at his brow. ]
I'm mad, because you and Rocket just disappeared, man! We've been looking for you guys everywhere, and you weren't answering your comms. And Knowhere sucks, dude, we told you that.
Literally the first thing out of my mouth. We stepped off the ship and I said, "Mantis, Knowhere sucks. Stick close to us." Why didn't you listen?
[ She's been listening her whole life. Because she didn't know what would happen to her if she didn't. And it felt like... for once, maybe she didn't have to listen. Rocket called it "letting loose." But-- this isn't right. There must be a way to do that, a way that doesn't end with Peter raising his voice at her in an alleyway on Knowhere. What should she do? ]
I'm sorry. [ Her lips pull into a frown. She knows apologies are the first order, at least. But it's better if she says what she's sorry for, right? ] I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you.
[ For a few seconds, Peter just stares at her, lips pressed into a tight line and eyebrows drawn together. There's something too weirdly— flat about the way she says those words, like it's instinct, and weird, directionless flicker of anger licks the back of his sternum.
(A common occurrence, these days, ever since—
Everything. All of that. The stuff Peter's trying not to think about.)
His shoulders sag as he heaves out a sigh, and after a second of deliberation, he lowers himself down to sit beside Mantis.
With a patience he doesn't quite feel but that he can apparently fake, ]
Are you actually sorry, or are you just saying you're sorry to get me off your back?
Like, do you actually get why I'm pissed right now?
[ There's a certain distance that exists between them that
is because she's wearing a rather large hat on her head--
but also because she doesn't really understand how to be around other people yet. For all of her life she was in the company of one person, if he could even be called such, and everyone else... came and went. For various reasons. Mostly just the one reason.
At his questions, her arm moves and her hand lifts almost automatically as though to reach for him-- but she stills it once her mind catches up to her body and she remembers that it's not good for her to just use her empathy on people without asking. So, instead she extends her hand a little bit toward Peter and tilts her head at him in an unspoken question.
Empathy would allow her to feel that he's angry-- but it won't explain to her why he's angry. Still, it's one of the only ways she knows to communicate. ]
[ Peter glances down at her outstretched hand for a second, almost puzzled, before it clicks.
Right.
The empathy thing.
He winces a little, the slightest twitch of his cheek, because the last time they did this, Mantis totally blurted out that thing he'd been trying to keep under wraps for weeks and weeks until he could get it handled. Admittedly, that hadn't been going well, but he was trying, which is the important thing.
But— well, there's no one else around but the two of them, so if she delves in and dredges up something he doesn't want her to, at least it'll just be between Peter and Mantis. (For however long that lasts.) And Mantis is still learning how the team thing works, and this is the most direct route, so—
So he lets out a slow breath, steeling himself despite the decision, and reaches out to meet her the rest of the way. ]
Alright. [ Like he's giving himself a pep talk. ] Okay. Here we go.
[ And he presses the palm of his hand against hers.
The first thing she'll feel is that anger, of course. Impatience and frustration and annoyance, rolling and flaring up in his chest. There's that bone-deep exhaustion, too, a hollowness that's stuck with him since— everything, deep and dark and cold. But beneath that— the fading dregs of worry and panic, both of which are slowly tempered by relief. Prickly and icy, a strange sort of vacuum that's fading with each passing second. ]
[ Almost immediately upon touching her expression changes, that same anger and impatience and frustration and annoyance that she feels from Peter washing across it, furrowing her brow, widening her eyes, pulling a gasp out of her, the tips of her antennae flaring up with an almost furious glow. She knows about that. It's anger directed at her because of what she'd done. She's almost inclined to pull away but she's drawn back into it by what's beneath that anger-- exhaustion. And beneath that-- the worry. Concern. Concern for... his team. The Guardians. And that includes-- her. It includes her?
Her hand falls away from his as she pieces it all together in her head, the worry and panic having dulled the glow of her antennae somewhat before they glow fades off. ]
--You are angry, upset because you were worried for our safety. I did not listen to you, but more than that you were worried for us.
[ When she pulls away, Peter takes that as his cue to let his own hand fall into his lap. He waits for her, lets her puzzle it out, and when she finally seems to have it sorted, he nods. ]
That's the gist of it, yeah.
[ Dryly, with a faint sort of smile. ]
You guys didn't answer us when we tried calling, yesterday. We tried all night to get in touch, and for a little while, we seriously thought you guys were in trouble or, worse, dead. Then Rocket trudges in earlier today, hungover as hell, with no idea where you were, and then it's a mad scramble to figure out where you ended up.
[ It feels-- strange. Because she still feels the residual mix of anger and concern and panic from Peter and it makes her feel awful for having made him feeling such a way but at the same time... ]
I... no one has ever worried about me before.
[ it almost feels nice and that's a strange confluence with everything else. ]
[ His wincing doesn't escape, and in fact it makes her shrink a little bit into herself because-- should she not have said that? Should she have kept it to herself? She doesn't know what and what not to say, still.
But the request that follows isn't entirely what she'd expected and it earns him a confused look from her as she tilts her sombrero head. ]
I would not mind taking it off.
[ And then a beat before -- ] Oh, you want me to actually take it off.
[ And so she does, and her antennae give a little spring to them as they're freed from the confines of the hat. ]
[ He lets out a sigh of relief once she doffs the hat; Peter wasn’t entirely sure how much longer he could have a serious conversation with her still wearing the thing.
(Where the hell did they even find a sombrero? And at what point in the night did she and Rocket decide sombreros were now, definitely, a thing they were doing?
Questions for another time.)
He shifts a little, rolling his shoulders and dredging up the right words. He’s quiet as he works through them, discarding a comment here and there, tongue running over his teeth as he thinks. ]
I know you’re still getting used to... literally everything. And it’s a giant adjustment, I know. Going from one world to another, like getting tossed into the deep end of a pool and having people expect you to know how to swim. And— you’re doing alright, mostly. Or it looks like it, anyway. But you have to be more careful, dude, especially in a place like this. You can’t believe every single thing a person tells you.
[ Probably best to ask Rocket where the sombrero came from, although as Mantis is learning, he likely would not provide a truthful answer.
She puts the sombrero on the ground next to her but her chin stays resting on the top of her knees, partly because it just seems like too much effort at the moment to keep her head up. Her arms wrap around her folded legs, too, keeping hands to herself because she's also learning about how to not to accidentally impede on people's emotional privacy. She gives a bit of effort, at least, to nod along to what Quill says-- because it has been a big adjustment. She's been world-hopping before with Ego on that ship of his, especially in search of Star-Lord, but nothing like what the Guardians do. It's different, not-- not in a bad way, she thinks-- but it is very different. She's still not sure how she fits in. If she ever will. ]
I will try to be more careful next time. And with Rocket.
I do not want to be a burden on anyone like this...
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But-- somehow, hearing it from Peter and directed at her doesn't seem so scary or upsetting. Should she be upset about it? Because she's heard him sound this way at the others but even then she knows that he cares about them. It-- doesn't feel like the same kind of anger that she's known before. From Ego.
So she doesn't flinch at the way he raises his voice like she might have otherwise. Instead she looks up at him, having to angle her head back quite a bit to be able to see him past the rim of the sombrero, and she offers a quizzical look. ]
I-- don't know. You are angry with me. Is it because I tried to have fun?
no subject
[ A beat, as he process that, then his face twists. ]
Wait, no. Yes to the angry. Not to the having—
[ Peter cuts himself off, and he lets out a frustrated noise, rubbing at his brow. ]
I'm mad, because you and Rocket just disappeared, man! We've been looking for you guys everywhere, and you weren't answering your comms. And Knowhere sucks, dude, we told you that.
Literally the first thing out of my mouth. We stepped off the ship and I said, "Mantis, Knowhere sucks. Stick close to us." Why didn't you listen?
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I'm sorry. [ Her lips pull into a frown. She knows apologies are the first order, at least. But it's better if she says what she's sorry for, right? ] I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you.
What can I do to make you not angry with me?
no subject
(A common occurrence, these days, ever since—
Everything. All of that. The stuff Peter's trying not to think about.)
His shoulders sag as he heaves out a sigh, and after a second of deliberation, he lowers himself down to sit beside Mantis.
With a patience he doesn't quite feel but that he can apparently fake, ]
Are you actually sorry, or are you just saying you're sorry to get me off your back?
Like, do you actually get why I'm pissed right now?
no subject
is because she's wearing a rather large hat on her head--
but also because she doesn't really understand how to be around other people yet. For all of her life she was in the company of one person, if he could even be called such, and everyone else... came and went. For various reasons. Mostly just the one reason.
At his questions, her arm moves and her hand lifts almost automatically as though to reach for him-- but she stills it once her mind catches up to her body and she remembers that it's not good for her to just use her empathy on people without asking. So, instead she extends her hand a little bit toward Peter and tilts her head at him in an unspoken question.
Empathy would allow her to feel that he's angry-- but it won't explain to her why he's angry. Still, it's one of the only ways she knows to communicate. ]
no subject
Right.
The empathy thing.
He winces a little, the slightest twitch of his cheek, because the last time they did this, Mantis totally blurted out that thing he'd been trying to keep under wraps for weeks and weeks until he could get it handled. Admittedly, that hadn't been going well, but he was trying, which is the important thing.
But— well, there's no one else around but the two of them, so if she delves in and dredges up something he doesn't want her to, at least it'll just be between Peter and Mantis. (For however long that lasts.) And Mantis is still learning how the team thing works, and this is the most direct route, so—
So he lets out a slow breath, steeling himself despite the decision, and reaches out to meet her the rest of the way. ]
Alright. [ Like he's giving himself a pep talk. ] Okay. Here we go.
[ And he presses the palm of his hand against hers.
The first thing she'll feel is that anger, of course. Impatience and frustration and annoyance, rolling and flaring up in his chest. There's that bone-deep exhaustion, too, a hollowness that's stuck with him since— everything, deep and dark and cold. But beneath that— the fading dregs of worry and panic, both of which are slowly tempered by relief. Prickly and icy, a strange sort of vacuum that's fading with each passing second. ]
no subject
Her hand falls away from his as she pieces it all together in her head, the worry and panic having dulled the glow of her antennae somewhat before they glow fades off. ]
--You are angry, upset because you were worried for our safety. I did not listen to you, but more than that you were worried for us.
no subject
That's the gist of it, yeah.
[ Dryly, with a faint sort of smile. ]
You guys didn't answer us when we tried calling, yesterday. We tried all night to get in touch, and for a little while, we seriously thought you guys were in trouble or, worse, dead. Then Rocket trudges in earlier today, hungover as hell, with no idea where you were, and then it's a mad scramble to figure out where you ended up.
So— yeah. I was worried.
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I... no one has ever worried about me before.
[ it almost feels nice and that's a strange confluence with everything else. ]
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The admission makes him wince.
(Makes him hate Ego a little more, too, but that's nothing new.)
Peter cuts her another glance, lips parting to speak before he huffs out a breath through his nose, lips pressing together.
Then, ]
... You mind taking the sombrero off real quick?
no subject
But the request that follows isn't entirely what she'd expected and it earns him a confused look from her as she tilts her sombrero head. ]
I would not mind taking it off.
[ And then a beat before -- ] Oh, you want me to actually take it off.
[ And so she does, and her antennae give a little spring to them as they're freed from the confines of the hat. ]
no subject
(Where the hell did they even find a sombrero? And at what point in the night did she and Rocket decide sombreros were now, definitely, a thing they were doing?
Questions for another time.)
He shifts a little, rolling his shoulders and dredging up the right words. He’s quiet as he works through them, discarding a comment here and there, tongue running over his teeth as he thinks. ]
I know you’re still getting used to... literally everything. And it’s a giant adjustment, I know. Going from one world to another, like getting tossed into the deep end of a pool and having people expect you to know how to swim. And— you’re doing alright, mostly. Or it looks like it, anyway. But you have to be more careful, dude, especially in a place like this. You can’t believe every single thing a person tells you.
Especially Rocket. Because Rocket likes to lie.
no subject
She puts the sombrero on the ground next to her but her chin stays resting on the top of her knees, partly because it just seems like too much effort at the moment to keep her head up. Her arms wrap around her folded legs, too, keeping hands to herself because she's also learning about how to not to accidentally impede on people's emotional privacy. She gives a bit of effort, at least, to nod along to what Quill says-- because it has been a big adjustment. She's been world-hopping before with Ego on that ship of his, especially in search of Star-Lord, but nothing like what the Guardians do. It's different, not-- not in a bad way, she thinks-- but it is very different. She's still not sure how she fits in. If she ever will. ]
I will try to be more careful next time. And with Rocket.
I do not want to be a burden on anyone like this...
no subject
You’re not being a burden.
[ And he says it with as much reassurance as he can. Yes, the ordeal had been inconvenient and worrisome, but that’s a different matter entirely. ]
You’re still learning. I get that. So— just take this as another lesson, alright? Keep your comm with you, and answer it when we call you.
[ A pause, then, ]
And maybe bring along a designated driver.