come on, let's see what you've got

[nostalgiabomb]

Who: Peter Quill (nostalgiabomb) and maybe you?!
What: memshares and quests!
When: April??
Where: mostly Wyver and the Edrathe Ruins
Warning(s): possible violence; mentions of child murder


i. private: oh telephone line, give me some time; backdated to April 9th-ish

[ Do the Guardians have a group chat? They probably do. That sounds like it should be a thing, right? If not, apparently Peter is creating it by sending the following message: ]

Does anyone want to explain to me why I keep getting stuffed in a freezer up in space?

I'm starting to feel like last night's leftovers.

[ He's probably not expecting a real answer. Or any answer at all, honestly. Mostly he just wants to give a heads-up that he's back. Somehow. For better or worse. ]

ii. wyver: of red and black;

[ Peter's still reasonably sure that both Olympia and Wyver are batshit insane, so he feels no obligation to exhibit any sort of loyalty to either side. Especially not after those crazy cultists dropped him off in a maze with little more than a quick pat on the back and a, "Good luck not dying."

Assholes.

Apparently the craziness is more or less over, but Peter is still wary about stepping back into Wyver, even with the so-called "tour group." He knows his way around the city, but there's something to be said about playing dumb. He keeps his wits about him, keeps one hand hovering close to the grip of his blaster, and keeps an eye out for suspicious activity with all the attention he usually reserves for when he thinks someone with sticky fingers is about to pick his pocket.

When they reach the Forge, he pauses at the displays. The items aren't for sale, but a smith humors him and pulls out a sword to let Peter examine it.

He doesn't know what the fuck he's looking for – swords aren't really his thing – but, listen, Peter's a simple guy, and swords are really cool. ]

iii. forgetting is so long, vol. 1;

[ Wherever you were, whatever you were doing, it doesn't matter.

Welcome to the jungle.

—No, just kidding. But you are standing in the clearing of some sort of dense forest, with bright sunlight filtering down through the thick canopy. All things considered, it's not too different from some of the wooded areas on El Nysa.

What might come as a surprise is the boy clad in maroon standing with a blaster raised. The uniform he wears looks brand new and pristine, as does the gun he's weilding. Beside him, a blue-skinned man, his own uniform clearly older and well-used, leans over his shoulder.

"Get the target in your sights, Quill," the blue-skinned man says. "Line it up. Take your time."

The boy, Quill, apparently, tries to smother his smile and fails at it entirely. He aims at a target carved into the bark of a wide, petrified tree. He breathes, and on his third exhale, he squeezes the trigger. The blast of plasma surges from the gun, slamming into the tree a foot below the target. His smile fades a little, but the blue-skinned man beside him barks out a proud laugh, tousling the boy's hair.

"Now, that ain't bad, boy. That ain't bad at all. Try it again." ]

iv. forgetting is so long, vol. 2;

[ In Xanadu did Kubla Khan / A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Welcome to a giant, ornately decorated palace, with what looks like floating pearlescent eggs lining a single pathway. In it, a grey-haired man stands with Peter Quill. And the bastard is monologuing while Peter stands literally hypnotized, his eyes glazed over with thousands of stars. Explaining his evil plan to dominate the cosmos. Complaining about the failures after he banged his way through the galaxy to make a magic kid.

Charming. ]

v. edrathe ruins: actual pillars;

[ Peter has a bad habit of throwing himself into work when he wants to avoid thinking about certain things. Easier to keep himself occupied than to dwell, right? Plus, the siren call of a pocketful of silver definitely helps.

A couple of jobs take him to the same place, so why not kill two birds with one stone?

The Edrathe Ruins are every bit as creepy as Peter imagined. Dead and deserted. The sort of place that would definitely spew out animated skeletons or zombies or a million different shambling monsters, if given half a chance. ]

You don't think these pillars are cursed, do you? Or, like, secretly guarding some all-powerful weapon? I have a bad track record with ancient relics.

vi. edrathe ruins: secret cache and/or crystal drops;

[ Archaeology and recovering history lost to time is all good and well, and maybe searching out the pillars scratched an old itch in Peter to live out a life Indiana Jones might be proud of, but better still is the promise of profit.

And even better is the promise of "riches beyond your wildest dreams" – and Peter's dreams can get pretty buckwild, honestly.

It's why he finds himself here, in the ice cave of doom. He's had some shitty experiences with chilly caves in the recent past, but apparently that hasn't deterred him. He holds aloft a burning torch – how sadly low-tech is that? – with gloved hands. ]

Okay. No sudden movements, keep your eyes peeled, keep moving, and we should probably get through this without losing any fingers or toes.

vii. wildcard;

want to throw him into your memory? go for it! want a different memory? pm this journal or pp me at lampshading!

Comments

text; un: gamora 1/3

[godslay]

where

text; un: gamora 2/3

[godslay]

are

text; un: gamora 3/3

[godslay]

you

text; @star.lord

[nostalgiabomb]

[ oh.

that's not good. ]

um.

You could at least start with hello

[godslay]

Peter.

[ NO HELLO FOR YOU, IT'S BEEN WEEKS. ]

ii.

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket responded to that Guardians "group chat" with a lot of swearing and secret gratitude that he didn't lose his memories again, and then he let Gamora handle the rest, because it's Gamora and she's terrifying and all Rocket will do is throw things at him.

So he bides his time. Lets things marinate, and then when they arrive back on planet, he comes up behind him admiring swords and speaks up loudly in an attempt to startle him.]

Lookin' for an "I'm sorry for vanishing even though it totally wasn't my fault" present for Gamora?

[Hi. :)]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Listen, Peter can be a jumpy bastard, sometimes, and that only gets exacerbated by the fact that his teammates, knowingly or not, like to sneak up on him like cats screeching out into the night as cheap jump scares in horror movies.

So predictably, Peter flinches. And thankfully, he doesn’t slice off anyone’s appendages with the sword in his hand, his own especially, and he doesn’t instinctively swing the sword around in a sword-like fashion.

Once he’s reasonably sure his heart isn’t about to explode: ]

What the hell, Rocket?

[ And quickly on the heels of that, ]

It wasn’t my fault.

[ That’s his story, and he’s sticking to it. ]

[beatupgrass]

Oh trust me, I know, but givin' you shit about it is hilarious.

[Rocket saunters up closer, though he has to stand on his tiptoes to even see the selection. He's not much of a blade guy, but he might be able to make something out of the cheaper stuff. He's been bored and restless since That Happened.]

Almost as hilarious as you thinkin' you're gonna use that thing.

[nostalgiabomb]

In what way is me getting stuffed into a freezer hilarious?

[ life is pain.

And life is all about adding insult to injury, apparently, because Peter's expression pinches, affronted. ]

There's nothing hilarious about that, either. I'd do just fine, thanks. If I wanted to, which I don't.

[ Peter isn't aware that swinging around broomsticks and making lightsaber noises doesn't count as actual training, it seems. ]

v - edrathe ruins (Kale has met Gamora, Rocket and Mantis, so she needs to meet Peter!)

[kaleorbekaled]

[Kale has grown braver in her time with El Nysa, both in exploring the world, as well as working with people she's never met before. Sometimes that just happens with odd jobs, and she's made a few friends that way.

As they venture through the ruins, she's perfectly content to let Peter do most of the talking, and give short replies and nods in return.

It's that last sentence that gets her attention.]

How bad? Um...should I be getting ready for a fight?

eyyyy, guardians bingo!

[nostalgiabomb]

[ For his part, Peter's always been pretty good with strangers. It's all part of his natural charm, he might say; he has a magnetic personality that makes him exceedingly easy to work with.

The truth is, though, that he just understands that folks all have their strengths, and a lot of the time, two sets of hands are better than one.

At her question, Peter snorts out a laugh – something that at first says, "Hey, don't be silly."

But it's followed up with a slightly thoughtful and very loaded pause.

Then, ]

... I mean, it wouldn't hurt?

[kaleorbekaled]

[Kale's shy and timid, although she's come out of her shell over the course of the months she's been here. She's had to. Her best friend that she used to hide behind is still asleep in the pods, and there are so many people here who can't fight very well, and/or who have no powers. So she's taken it upon herself to be a protector of sorts.

That pause doesn't go unnoticed by her. For her part, Kale takes it well.]

Okay. Do you have combat training?

[Everyone has their own skill sets, and he could be someone who's good at exploring and finding things, but not necessarily the best at fighting. It's hard to say, having never seen him in action.]

I'm a regular in the Wyver fighting rings.

[She doesn't want to come across as arrogant, so that seems like the simplest way to say that she can hold her own if a situation comes up. Someone who couldn't handle a fight wouldn't keep coming back.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ It’s a fair question, honestly, but Peter’s always had a bit of a chip in his shoulder, and his first instinct is to bristle. ]

Yeah. I can hold my own.

[ Probably, anyway. Assuming this place doesn’t throw something totally unfair at them, like Godzilla or King Kong.

He kicks aside some errant rock, letting it bounce and tumble away as they make their way through the ruins. ]

You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this place, would you?

[ Peter’s been here for a handful of months, but he still feels new, here. ]

forgetting is so long, vol 2 | lmk if this works!

[phykios]

[ percy's starting to get used to stumbling into memories.

but this is something else. the ornate palace, the aura of power coming off the grey-haired guy, the way he summons images with a wave of his hand -- this is familiar territory. hear one immortal ramble on about an evil plan and you've heard them all, maybe. on instinct, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ballpoint pen...that springs to life as a faintly glowing bronze blade when he pulls off the cap. and as ego goes on about purpose, about poisoning thousands of planets all over the universe, about --

i needed to fulfill life’s one true purpose: to grow and to spread, covering all that exists, until everything... is me.

the expression on percy's face struggles between outrage and revulsion, and he says, aloud, ]

Okay, I've heard a lot of crazy here's-how-I'm-going-to-end-the-world plans. But this? Takes the cake.

perfect!

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Listen.

Peter’s lived this moment a lot – a lot – over the past several months, whether he wanted to or not. The memory crept up on him in unexpected moments, and he remembers all too well how it felt to be under Ego’s sway. How peaceful it was, how beautiful the images that played in his mind were. It was like getting lost in some idyllic painting. It was like being covered in a warm blanket.

This is his first time being on the outside looking in, though, and he feels— sick. Disgusted. Furious. Like he’s caught somewhere between wanting to puke or tearing the place down with his bare hands. Maybe both? It’d be like something out of The Exorcist.

By now, Peter’s heard a lot about the bullshit with people stepping into one another’s memories, though he hasn’t experienced it much, himself. He was at least a little naïve enough to believe that maybe his own would be left alone, or at least unwitnessed, but – surprise, surprise – things almost never go his way.

Which is what prompts this guy, identical to the hypnotized asshole in the center of the room, to ask, ]

Who the hell are you?

[ who has time for politeness? Not Peter, apparently. ]

[phykios]

Yeah, nice to meet you too. [ he says, flat, but honestly? he can't blame the guy. he can't say he'd really take it any better to have total strangers barge into his memories -- and it's not like this one seems like it's of the warm and fuzzy variety either. ] I'm Percy.

[ ego keeps talking, and even though percy doesn't have any personal stakes here (besides, apparently, the end of the universe??), his hands twitch on the grip of his sword. gods, but everything about this guy -- the smug condescension, the calm way he discusses destroying thousands of planets like it's nothing -- puts him on edge. it probably wouldn't be satisfying to try cutting a memory-vision-thing in half, but he's almost tempted.

at the pod showing all those couplings though? he really can't help making a face. ]

Talk about TMI. [ then, ] Look, I didn't mean to be here. But there's a way out of these things. We just have to find it.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter stepped into Mantis’ memory a little while ago, and had fired almost a half-dozen shots through the apparition of Ego’s stupid face. It hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as he had hoped it would be, and even less effective.

That doesn’t stop him from resting his hand on the grip of his gun, holstered at his hip. And it doesn’t stop his fingers from twitching a little, either, as Ego goes on and on and on about the children he sired and discarded, like he was some asshole looking for pearl and killing every oyster on the way.

Peter’s jaw clenches so tightly he’s pretty sure his teeth might shatter, or that he’s at least going to need some serious dental work later, but for now, he drags his gaze away from Ego’s infuriatingly smug face to look at the kid – Percy, apparently – beside him. ]

If you tell me it involves killing this guy— [ No need to specify which guy, obviously. ] —you can be my new best friend.

forgetting is so long, vol.1!! dw if this is too late to tag-in c:

[tailorable]

[ By now, this has happened a few times — simulations (for lack of a better word) pulled from people’s memories ensnare him, leaving him an intruder on personal moments. The forest isn’t unlike the jungles of El Nysa, but Eggsy thinks the humidity isn’t as bad (if only because the moment isn’t real, not anymore). The sight of blue goddamn skin makes his brows arch sharply, still unaccustomed to the strange characters of this new world, even after half a year of interacting with them. Otherwise, this simulation isn’t so bad, at least. Perhaps it’s even fond: the sort of interaction Eggsy wishes he’d had as a boy.

Eggsy leans against a tree, quietly pleased to find he doesn’t phase through it like an absolute idiot. His expression remains neutral despite the slight quirk of his lips, nearly a smile. In his Olympia guard blacks and right-hand swathed in white bandages, he obviously doesn’t belong in any wooded area, here or planetside, but there’s a stillness to him. If it weren’t for his dress, perhaps he would blend in well enough, after all. ]

[ Casually — ] Don’t think my slingshot was half as accurate at that age.

[ He doesn’t know if the boy or the man will answer. Maybe he’ll even be left to wander this memoryscape alone. ]

you're totally good!

[nostalgiabomb]

[ It's— probably one of the better memories Peter has, honestly. His life is weird. Tremendously weird. The kind of messed up stuff that belongs in the pages of comic books or in Saturday morning cartoons.

But, you know, it's his life, and sometimes he finds refuge in the nicer vignettes. The ones that make him feel normal, even if it's target-practice with a blue-skinned alien with almost as much metal in his mouth as Richard Kiel in Moonraker. He visits this particular day a lot, thinks about it with a complicated fondness. Yondu is and always will be a giant, snaggletoothed tool, but on this day, he wasn't half bad. So this isn't new.

What is new, though, is that Peter isn't watching through is own eyes. Instead, he's similarly leaning against a tree, feeling something bittersweet twist in his gut, but he jerks to attention when he hears another voice. ]

It probably didn't have as much fire involved, either.

[ And Peter sounds uncertain, the words coming out slowly. Then, he sighs. ]

This is that weird memory thing happening again, isn't it?

[tailorable]

Yeaaaah, that didn't come until later.

[ There is a revolver holstered at his side, after all, but he makes no move to grasp it. Pointless in the memory sim, anyway. Instead, Eggsy holds up one hand in surrender, prepared for far worse than surprise and resignation. His own trips down memory lane had been a bit pic 'n mix. Some shite, some warm, and a few bloody inconvenient when he's trying to lay low, thanks. He gives Peter a proper once-over then. Can't be much older than him. Sounds American, but probably not that American (thank god), with the blue man group teaching him to sharp-shoot on the side.

He likes that Peter immediately voices his theory, confirming Eggsy's own in the process. Straightforward. ]

Seems like it. [ One corner of his mouth hooks into a half-smile, entirely apologetic. ] Thought I'd finally made it to the pub and everything.

[ let him go back to reality and drink already. ]

hhhhh sorry for the delay! feel free to ignore

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter similarly looks the other guy over. A total stranger, of course – of course, because isn't that just an icing on this weird cake, for some completely random dude watch this weird moment? – but he doesn't read the guy as a threat. And more than that, it probably isn't this guy's fault he's seeing this. Peter figures that, for this dude, it's sort of like wandering around in a grocery store and then stumbling on a mom lecturing her kid for trying to sneak a package of cookies into their basket: awkward as hell, but still sort of fascinating.

He takes a second to scrub his face, ignoring the way Yondu offers a few rare words of encouragement as his younger self totally misses his target again. (How embarrassing.) ]

Listen. If you can figure out how to get us out of here, drinks are on me.

hopefully I am not too late - volume 2

[izanyagi]

[Yu has seen some pretty intense memories but this...wow. He can't help but clasp one of his hands into a fist as this guy goes on. So full of himself and smug. Like a god. This is worst than Izanagi, really, since she did what she thought humans wanted. This is an entire level.]

You defeated him, didn't you?

[Otherwise he was taken right after this...]

nah, you're totally fine!

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter, for his part, has his hand wrapped around the grip of his blaster. (In a few minutes, he knows his memory-self will do the same. That he'll yank both guns from the holsters at his hips, will unload shot after shot into Ego's avatar to no avail.

That doesn't stop this Peter from doing the same. ]

We did and didn't.

[ And he says it flatly, anger threading through his voice. ]

The Storm came. Destroyed the planet before I could.

[ He pauses, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He wishes he had had the satisfaction of destroying Ego himself, but he supposes that Ego being dead at all (as far as Peter knows, anyway) is good enough. ]

I showed up at the station not too long after this.

[izanyagi]

[So the worst case scenario, in a way. He tries to offer some comfort even as he watches Peter reach for his blasters.]

I'm sure you would have.

[It has to be hard knowing this is your father...]

This is a memory now...let's find a way out of it.

i'm so sorry for the delay! feel free to ignore

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The reassurance feels empty, if Peter's honest, but he appreciates it, if only a little. He hesitates before uncurling his hand from his blaster, glancing over at the kid in consideration. Sizing him up, almost. ]

Yeah.

[ Because the less time Peter has to spend listening to this fucker's voice, the better.

He remembers from last time that there are fine cracks in the wall, little, almost invisible lines. He spins on his heel, setting a quick pace away from Ego's droning. ]

We just smash the walls down, right?