el nysa: overflow;

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introlog #3; guerrilla forces

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gamora;

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[ Simulation or no, the fact that she may have been bested by a floaty plant, or whatever, is still going to be a source of some amusement for him. But knowing Gamora, and her hatred of looking foolish, he tries to wrangle his grin into something more muted. ]

So what do they look like? I like flying as much as the next guy, but not that much.

i have arrived u nerd

[godslay]

[ It's a good thing Gamora isn't too irritated, because otherwise, the ship would surely start reacting; as it stands, the most is a vague flicker of one of the displays. ]

They look... fluffy.

[ That is both the worst and only way she can think to describe them. ]

The seeds are long and white, and easily detach from the plant.

why always with the nerd

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... Fluffy.

[ He repeats it back flatly, unimpressed, but thankfully, she clarifies. ]

So— kind of like dandelions?

Like, a puffy white ball on a stem?

prompto;

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Oh, I dunno.

[ And his voice is bright, unconcerned, as he gets to his feet, heading over to join Prompto at the skull-cave's wall. ]

I think it's got a kind of rustic charm. A cozy kinda fixer-upper.

[punshots]

[ Prompto laughs gustily at that. ]

Dude, if you wanna make a home outta this place? It's aaaaall yourself. I'd just, uh, be careful. In case the guys who drew these come back anytime soon.

[ From all the bones, it doesn't seem like this place has been used in quite some time, but still. Prompto indicates one of the pictures, where there is definitely a handful of bodies being laid to rest. ]

Spooky.

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[ Peter winces at the painting in question. Yeah, that's definitely creepy as hell, made all the more creepy by the fact that immediately next to it is another painting depicting what looks to be a big, bountiful beast. ]

In fairness to me, I don't see their names written anywhere around here.

[ So, you know, "Finders, keepers. Losers, weepers." So say the ancient tenets of schoolyard ownership. ]

What do you think? Too spooky to set up camp for the night?

mantis;

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[ He frowns at that bit of information, swallowing it down like a bitter pill. ]

... I really don't remember any of that.

[ Which, well, isn't exactly news by now, but it sucks. Months of time, just— gone, and he doubted he was going to get them back.

But, okay, no point in dwelling about stuff he can't do anything about, so he huffs out a sigh, moving to shift the topic of conversation. ]

You two have a place here, then?

[uglybug]

I know. It's okay. [And it really is, as far as she's concerned. It might be difficult to know that he doesn't remember any of that time before, when they started to actually get to know one another but that's okay.

It is.

He's still Peter.]

Sometimes I stay with him. [Which is not saying that she lives with him. But also not saying that she avoids him either.]

matt murdock;

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[ from here ]

Your guess is as good as mine.

[ ... actually, maybe not, because Peter's current guess is, "Maybe a giant creature wanted to carve itself a really awesome helmet, the likes of which would be best suited for the album cover of a metal rock band, and so it did and it was." ]

Maybe someone just, you know, really liked skulls.

sorry for the delay!

[ghettobatman]

[Peter's got to have some more creative ideas than Matt. This is the guy who was skeptical about aliens even though they were hanging around his city, destroying it like it was nbd]

[(In MCU, anything is possible)]

Enough to carve sculptures of them? Well, I can't claim to understand the mind of an artist.

[Said kinda dryly, but also--] Maybe it's some kind of monument. To commemorate something.

[With... a skull...]

diana cavendish;

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[ don't be silly he totally loves... Earth history......... can't get enough of it........ . . . ]

Yeah. Maybe they just had a change of heart and were like, "You know that ritual murder thing? Weird, right? We should probably stop doing that."

[ it's nice to dream. ]

I guess we can ask someone in the town. Big thing like this so close to a city, I've gotta imagine someone knows what's up with this thing.

[fiendennor]

I mean, it isn't unheard of. A Roman emperor banned human sacrifice as a practice, though it was largely a formality at that point, since it had become taboo over the years. Reformist leaders aren't uncommon. Is there a city near here, then?

cole;

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[ A pause, and Peter turns to look at the kid again. ]

You sure you don't need sleep?

[ Because based on the way he looks, all pale skin and bruised eyes, he definitely looks like he does. ]

You could wait back at the boats, if you wanted.

[forgetmenow]

Yes. I never do.

[He absolutely looks like he could use a nap, but no, no sleep for him. That's just how he always looks.]

Maybe. But I think staying near everyone is better. I wouldn't be able to help anyone by the boats.

kaden;

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[ The change in the guy's demeanor is almost funny, and Peter bites back his initial urge to laugh. Instead, he casts a quick smile up at the guy, where he's perched on the teeth. ]

You were so adventurous just a second ago. What happened?

[inreturn]

[Don't laugh! Kaden pouts a little, deciding to just get it over with and cross the barrier into the death house. It already gives him the chills, shaking him from the tip of his tail to his shoulders.]

I can see the pool of bones, that's what's changed. What happened here? I wasn't expecting a delicious feast of freshly picked berries or anything, but this is still more yikes than my worst case scenario somehow.

angel;

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[ Peter, for his part, is used to the sudden thrust of a ship coming to life, to the quiet shift of artificial gravity kicking on, so when they escape from the station's artificial atmosphere, he's already throttling back on the thrusters, slowing the ship down.

He casts Angel an almost apologetic look – almost – but then the ship judders a little. He frowns down at the controls. ]

... That was weird.

[ And he flips through the ship's system diagnostics. ]

Seatbelts, by the way.

[ A mild, distracted sort of reminder. ]

maya;

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I guess it would be interesting, if this turned out to be some kind of to-do list. "Fold laundry. Tidy kitchen. Return Jebediah's scythe."

[ Is that sarcasm? It's absolutely sarcasm.

But even having said that, he continues onto the next rune, then the next. ]

What's your name, by the way?

[wellplayedbitch]

Don't forget, feed the giant dragon before it immolates the entire village.

[Two could play at the sarcasm game, and she liked to think her tongue was sharp enough to keep up with the best of them.

As Peter returned to work, so too did Maya. She paid careful attention to where each rune was placed in relation to the other, but also paid attention to its location in the room. There was a chance that there was a primer to be found somewhere.

Caught up as she was, she didn't process his question for a handful of seconds.]

Maya. Yours?

bellamy;

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"For"?

[ He echoes it back distractedly, working at the console. He glances over, pointing out a switch on the other guy's side. ]

Hit that for me, would you?

[ And he returns to his own controls. ]

I don't really pilot for anyone.

[ Not anymore, anyway. Sure, he worked with the Ravagers – more specifically, for Yondu – but more often than not, he was taking the Milano out for joyrides, for some much needed personal space. ]

Aside from myself and my team, anyway.

rocket;

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Ugh.

[ And in spite of the annoyance in his voice, it’s drowned out by that same feeling of amusement – that particular delight of talking shit behind someone’s back. Then again, if Drax were here, the two of them would still gladly do this in front of his face, so apparently not much has changed. ]

Bastard nearly wrecked my ship.

[ And only Peter is allowed to do that, thank you very much.

The ship’s flight seems to smooth out, the interior lights and the lights on the control panels finally steadying. Peter’s attention flicks over to the screen, and the warning lights have seem to have shifted to a pleasant, happy green, signaling that they’re finally harmonizing, whatever the hell that means. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket notices it too, and he almost- almost- comments on it, but doing so feels like inviting problems or for one of them to try and take credit (it's entirely Peter's doing that this worked out, but it's Rocket and Rocket logic is not of any world but his own). So it's better if he doesn't say anything about it at all, and stay focused on the task of steering the ship around.

It's nice, but it's still not the same as the Milano... Or hell even an aero-rig. He likes full control and using something more than just his and someone else's delicate psyches.]

Maybe next time, they'll give us a real ship. No training wheels.

senren;

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[ Peter wisely decides to express that his own luck is basically the same – it seems far too much like tempting fate to say as much, after all, and a couple of these serpents was already two too many, in his eyes. ]

That was magic, then?

[ Well, okay, it was obviously magic, but Peter has to make allowances. He's seen some tech that might as well have been magic, but it turned out to just be some complicated machinery at work. ]

[heraldsdawn]

Indeed it was. I'm assuming you're amongst our number who's never seen or heard of it. Except in cases of stories?

[ He isn't judging the question, just pointing out a fact he seemed to be coming across a lot. Definitely odd places everyone seemed to come from. He takes another glance at the blasters Peter was using with a small look. ]

I'm guessing this whole place must be very foreign to you. Elves, dragons, everything in between. It can be hard to adjust to.