[ 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.
[ 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.
[ And this is where Gamora is interrupted by a bright, cheerful voice that doesn't... actually seem to be coming from the comms.
Great! Good job! This is kinda boring now, though. Hey guys, think fast!
Gamora pauses, eyes narrowing as she looks over at Peter. ]
... Did you hear—
[ She doesn't even have time to finish the thought before a warning message is flashing across the screen. She turns her attention to the display, and— ]
—Peter!
[ And that sure is a meteor that's hurtling towards the stern. ]
[ He's about to respond to her comment with a disbelieving, "In what universe?" but he's similarly interrupted by that voice. Peter jumps, startled, and looks around the cabin, trying to locate the source, but—
He meets Gamora's gaze, still puzzled, and the angry flashing of the screen draws both of their attention.
Welp. Here's Peter's oh shit oh fuck face, because he registers the warning even before Gamora's shouting his name. He yanks on the ship's yoke, hauling it into a quick loop. The meteor sails past beneath them, just as they reach the crest of the loop, and when the ship rights itself, Peter splutters. ]
Where the hell did—
[ He barely has time to complain, because the warnings flash on the screen again, far more urgent than before, and the radar goes fucking nuts. ]
Hang on!
[ Because here it comes: Peter's ace flying. And now that he doesn't have Rocket trying to commandeer his ship, they might actually get through this. ]
[ You know, this was a perfectly pleasant flight. Potentially even the most pleasant thing they'd done together since waking on the station, and that's saying something.
Of course now they have to deal with flying space rocks.
Gamora grabs onto the arms of her seat as the ship veers sharply out of the way, gritting her teeth as she forces herself to focus on the displays.
Lights are flashing, alarms buzzing, and just as the ship darts around another meteor, one comes spinning towards them with even more excessive speed. ]
On our left!
[ Her tone is brusque, snapped out and business-like – if only because she's too focused to realize that it might sound like a snarl. ]
[ It's just as well that Peter's used to that particular tone to take any offense to it. It helps even more that he's focused on dodging the meteors. The ship's controls may be unfamiliar, but this instinct isn't, and Peter's spent a lot of time learning controls on the fly, considering how often he was behind the yoke of stolen or borrowed ships.
Peter spares only a glance out of the view screen at Gamora's warning, and he pitches the ship downward, the inertial dampers doing little to safeguard him from that wild feeling of his stomach trying to rise up into his chest. Another meteor to the right, and Peter sends the ship into an aileron roll, dodging to the left. He levels out the ship, once the meteor sails past. ]
Where the hell are they coming from?
[ Sharply, now that he has that bit of breathing space to speak. ]
[ —which sends them dangerously close to a meteor that flies toward them from the bow, and Peter has to veer the ship to the right to compensate.
—which knocks them into another meteor, and the ship's shielding lets out a high-pitched whine as it absorbs the hit. It knocks them into a quick, wild spin, and Peter grits his teeth as he tries to correct the ship's vector.
Thankfully, he does, though, he's slightly breathless with the effort. Nice to know they have a bit of a buffer in case they get hit again, but Peter would rather avoid a repeat performance. ]
Think happier thoughts, Gamora.
[ and wow, it's shocking that Peter has to be the one to say that. ]
[ ... This emotion-based steering is really starting to get on Gamora's nerves, especially after they take that none-too-pleasant hit. It could be worse – much worse – but Gamora still winces as they level out, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead.
She glares at Peter out of the corner of her eye. ]
Like that's helping.
[ Aaaaand the displays start to blink all over again, until Gamora forces herself to take a slower, deeper breath, closing her eyes to focus. ]
[ Maybe some other time, he’d waste breath with a quick, “Got it.” As it is now, Peter only responds to the warning by sending the ship into a steep dive, letting the meteor fly past overhead. The ship levels out with a tidy little outer loop, and Peter corrects their vector toward the planet again. ]
You heard that voice too, right?
[ A little distractedly, as he’s keeping his eyes peeled on the view screen. ]
[ He huffs out a sharp breath, trying to swallow down the instinctive flare of annoyance – and even that is only to cover the nervousness he feels for that unknown quantity. Some assmunch who’s apparently flinging meteors at them?
Uncool. Seriously uncool. And Peter thinks he might be starting to hate this place. ]
... We’ll worry about it later.
[ You know, when they aren’t being bombarded by meteorites. ]
[ He hums out a response in acknowledgment, still scanning the view screen for any stray meteors, but as Gamora said, they seem to be in the clear.
He breathes out a sigh, still tense at the controls – though not from any particular emotion. This time, it’s wariness that keeps him alert, the quick, buzzing hum of adrenaline like in those moments right before a fight breaks out.
An alert chimes on the screen – something to inform them that they’re on the right track toward their destinatino. Some kind of island, it looks like, though they haven’t broken the planet’s atmosphere just yet. ]
[ Gamora doesn't unwind, exactly, but the notification on the screen is reassuring, to know that they're getting closer. The sooner she gets out of this weird ship, the better, as far as she's concerned. ]
Nice flying.
[ Which isn't said with any real derision; he'd done well, especially with their limitations. ]
Get us on the ground, and we can leave this thing behind.
[ Normally, Gamora would find that smile bordering on the wrong side of insufferable, but—
Maybe it’s because she hasn’t seen him grin like that since they’d reunited on the station. Not since that fight, not since everything that went down with Ego.
This may be the only time she would ever find that look welcome on his face.
But, all the same, she sighs at him, her lips pressed in a thin line as she turns to meet his grin full-on. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gamora;
So what do they look like? I like flying as much as the next guy, but not that much.
i have arrived u nerd
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
[ He repeats it back flatly, unimpressed, but thankfully, she clarifies. ]
So— kind of like dandelions?
Like, a puffy white ball on a stem?
is dork better
Yes, they are like puffy white balls.
[ Much better. ]
They grow in large patches, so it makes them difficult to avoid.
no subject
So avoid anything that looks like a dandelion.
[ That sounds like a shame. He used to love picking them as a kid, making a wish and blowing them all away.
Or, when he was slightly more energetic, kicking at the blooms and watching the seeds go flying. ]
Any other weird plants? Venus flytraps that make you compulsively sing? Poppies that make you really sleepy?
no subject
Why would there be a plant that makes you sing?
[ Admittedly, the flowers that might make someone sleep seems more possible, given this one made her float. ]
no subject
Why would there be a plant that makes you float?
[ they both seem about equally likely, in Peter's mind. ]
no subject
[ Clearly. ]
Besides—
[ And this is where Gamora is interrupted by a bright, cheerful voice that doesn't... actually seem to be coming from the comms.
Great! Good job! This is kinda boring now, though. Hey guys, think fast!
Gamora pauses, eyes narrowing as she looks over at Peter. ]
... Did you hear—
[ She doesn't even have time to finish the thought before a warning message is flashing across the screen. She turns her attention to the display, and— ]
—Peter!
[ And that sure is a meteor that's hurtling towards the stern. ]
no subject
He meets Gamora's gaze, still puzzled, and the angry flashing of the screen draws both of their attention.
Welp. Here's Peter's oh shit oh fuck face, because he registers the warning even before Gamora's shouting his name. He yanks on the ship's yoke, hauling it into a quick loop. The meteor sails past beneath them, just as they reach the crest of the loop, and when the ship rights itself, Peter splutters. ]
Where the hell did—
[ He barely has time to complain, because the warnings flash on the screen again, far more urgent than before, and the radar goes fucking nuts. ]
Hang on!
[ Because here it comes: Peter's ace flying. And now that he doesn't have Rocket trying to commandeer his ship, they might actually get through this. ]
no subject
Of course now they have to deal with flying space rocks.
Gamora grabs onto the arms of her seat as the ship veers sharply out of the way, gritting her teeth as she forces herself to focus on the displays.
Lights are flashing, alarms buzzing, and just as the ship darts around another meteor, one comes spinning towards them with even more excessive speed. ]
On our left!
[ Her tone is brusque, snapped out and business-like – if only because she's too focused to realize that it might sound like a snarl. ]
no subject
Peter spares only a glance out of the view screen at Gamora's warning, and he pitches the ship downward, the inertial dampers doing little to safeguard him from that wild feeling of his stomach trying to rise up into his chest. Another meteor to the right, and Peter sends the ship into an aileron roll, dodging to the left. He levels out the ship, once the meteor sails past. ]
Where the hell are they coming from?
[ Sharply, now that he has that bit of breathing space to speak. ]
no subject
Now, however, she's more preoccupied with the meteors that came out of nowhere. ]
I have just as much information as you do.
[ Which is... a little snappier than it needs to be.
... The ship's systems reflect it in the way the craft tries to list slightly to the left. ]
no subject
—which knocks them into another meteor, and the ship's shielding lets out a high-pitched whine as it absorbs the hit. It knocks them into a quick, wild spin, and Peter grits his teeth as he tries to correct the ship's vector.
Thankfully, he does, though, he's slightly breathless with the effort. Nice to know they have a bit of a buffer in case they get hit again, but Peter would rather avoid a repeat performance. ]
Think happier thoughts, Gamora.
[ and wow, it's shocking that Peter has to be the one to say that. ]
no subject
She glares at Peter out of the corner of her eye. ]
Like that's helping.
[ Aaaaand the displays start to blink all over again, until Gamora forces herself to take a slower, deeper breath, closing her eyes to focus. ]
no subject
[ And he says it levelly, even if there's an edge of warning there.
Unnecessary, it turns out, because Gamora works on calming herself down. Soon enough, the control panels blink back to life –
Just in time for Peter to yank back on the control wheel, pulling them out of the path of another meteor. ]
Keep an eye on the radar.
no subject
[ Quick, focused, because there are more pressing matters than her aggravation.
She reaches out to adjust the radar display, tapping across the screen, and— ]
One more – three o'clock.
[ Fortunately for them, the meteors aren't coming as quickly or as plentifully, but the errant shot is still fast and seemingly out of nowhere. ]
no subject
You heard that voice too, right?
[ A little distractedly, as he’s keeping his eyes peeled on the view screen. ]
no subject
... Yes. But it wasn't coming from the ship.
[ Which was why it was so alarming to begin with. ]
no subject
Uncool. Seriously uncool. And Peter thinks he might be starting to hate this place. ]
... We’ll worry about it later.
[ You know, when they aren’t being bombarded by meteorites. ]
How are we looking?
no subject
Clear.
[ But just because it technically says they're meteor-free, doesn't mean that's the truth. She swipes through another scan, pursuing her lips. ]
For now.
no subject
He breathes out a sigh, still tense at the controls – though not from any particular emotion. This time, it’s wariness that keeps him alert, the quick, buzzing hum of adrenaline like in those moments right before a fight breaks out.
An alert chimes on the screen – something to inform them that they’re on the right track toward their destinatino. Some kind of island, it looks like, though they haven’t broken the planet’s atmosphere just yet. ]
Nearly there.
no subject
Nice flying.
[ Which isn't said with any real derision; he'd done well, especially with their limitations. ]
Get us on the ground, and we can leave this thing behind.
no subject
... Sorry, hang on.
[ Then, he glances over at her, grinning in that particular way of his.
(It's probably the first time he's broken out this particular smile since they've arrived.) ]
Did you just compliment me?
no subject
Maybe it’s because she hasn’t seen him grin like that since they’d reunited on the station. Not since that fight, not since everything that went down with Ego.
This may be the only time she would ever find that look welcome on his face.
But, all the same, she sighs at him, her lips pressed in a thin line as she turns to meet his grin full-on. ]
I will take it back.
no subject
Nope. Too late. You already floated that one out into the ether.
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