nysalogs | ( OPEN ) mister blue sky, please tell us why.

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( OPEN ) mister blue sky, please tell us why.

Who: Gamora (

godslay) & YOU
What: A catch-all for January.
When: Throughout the month.
Where: Mostly Wyver.
Warning(s): None so far?

1 ) That's Not a Horse

[ Gamora does not have experience with dragons. There were none on her planet, and even less in space, but in Wyver, that isn’t the case.

She’s also discovered that traveling can be a pain, and with the availability of mounts (which she hasn’t acquired for herself yet), she’s drawn to the wyverns she’s regularly seen. She’d prefer something that wasn’t, you know, alive, but given the options, she’s willing to take one for a test-drive, to see what she thinks.

The reins are handed off to her, and she leads a beautiful red wyvern towards the city gates. She runs a palm down the beast’s broad neck, feeling its scales with appreciation, and when it turns its head to meet her eyes, she stares right back into the reptilian slits.

A quiet hiss, and Gamora reaches out to set her hand on its snout. It doesn’t snap at her, and instead, slowly blinks in quiet acceptance.

She’s just about to climb aboard, because she’s going on an adventure.

Come along for a ride? ]

2 ) Stay The Night

[ It’s nearly nightfall out in the Undergrowth, and Gamora’s wyvern is getting fidgety. She remembers what she was told about sending the beast home if she wouldn’t return before sundown, so she pulls the reins taut to stop the mount, glancing over her shoulder at her companion. ]

We should find somewhere to stay out here. He needs to return to the city, and he won’t be willing to take us with him in a few minutes.

[ The wyvern hisses and shakes out its head, tugging against its bridle. ]

… The sooner we get off, the better.

3 ) Disturbing The Dead ( A )

[ Gamora has adjusted to making a living since joining the Guardians. Earning units where they could was normal, which is why picking up odd jobs for silver doesn’t bother her.

So here she is, wandering through this damned crypt with anyone unlucky enough to join her.

She has an excellent sense of her surroundings. She can usually detect traps with little trouble, but when ghosts come into the mix, it’s hard to focus on possible trip wires that will dump her and whoever’s joined her into a dark, unwelcoming pit.

An unholy howl fills the crypt’s passage, and as Gamora whirls around to search for the source, her ankle catches on—

Oh, damn it.

The ground drops out beneath her, and there’s going to be a lot of tumbling down to land in a tangle of limbs in the dark.

Gamora gives a short grunt of annoyance as she lands directly on top of someone.

Oops. ]

4 ) Disturbing the Dead ( B )

[ This has been a long, miserable haul through the dark, and Gamora is in no mood for shenanigans.

At the end of the maze is a stockpile of dusty odds and ends that look like they might be valuable.

Crouching down by the heirlooms, Gamora lifts one up to give it a once-over. ]

This had better be what they want.

5 ) Wildcard

( ooc: have something in mind? hit me up @ poprocks ! )

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[ The bird chirps in response, excited by Peter's feedback. It keeps making that soft, lilting song as it steps closer, shaking out its fern-like feathers.

Gamora's fingers curl around her sword, drawing Godslayer in preparation—

Though the bird seems to notice immediately, and it trills in alarm, backing away quickly and plastering its feathers against its neck. The surrounding birds call out in surprise, more song, more chirping, and Gamora frowns as she looks among them. ]

Skittish, apparently.

[ When the bird's feathers flatten back, when the other birds respond with the same alarmed chirping, Peter glances back between the creatures and Gamora, similarly startled.

He sees the way Gamora's hand wraps around the hilt of her sword, and he realizes he also has a hand resting against his gun. He slowly, purposefully, lifts both hands in a placating gesture.

Gently, in an even voice, ]

Whoa, hey, come on. We're not gonna hurt you.

[ And he glances back at Gamora. Slightly more pointedly, ]

Are we, Gamora?

[ Despite the fact that the birds have made no move to attack, even when perceiving a threat, Gamora is still hesitant to abandon her weapon. But with that pointed look from Peter, she sighs in resignation, returning Godslayer to her hip and taking her hand off of it. ]

No, we won't.

[ The bird closest to them seems to settle, slowly and hesitantly, and the fear in its song eases back into curiosity as it steps closer. It extends its neck – and Gamora suddenly realizes how long it is – to coo at Peter again. ]

... I think it likes when you talk to it.

[ Peter tenses as the bird eases itself closer, as its neck stretches out like some weird telescope. But it's looking at him with interest – and considering how often he's had creatures and people alike look at him like they were sizing him up for their dinner tables, Peter thinks he might be something of an authority on the matter.

Its coo is answered with a soft, pleased sort of laugh, and Peter's winning smile goes lost behind his masks' faceplate. ]

Of course it likes when I talk. Everyone likes when I talk.

[ If by "everyone" Peter means "Peter Quill and only Peter Quill," then he's not wrong. ]

It's about time something on this dumb planet finally likes me.

[ Focused as Peter is on the bird, he probably doesn't notice the pronounced roll of Gamora's eyes. Ugh. ]

Maybe it thinks you have food in your pocket.

[ Clearly that's the only reason the bird would be so eager for Peter's attention.

But the more he talks, the happier the song from the strange raptor becomes, and it keeps stepping closer to Peter, a little bit at a time, until it can reach out to try and nudge Peter with its beak. ]

[ Peter huffed out a sigh, turning to look at Gamora over his shoulder. ]

What, a weird, random bush-bird can’t just like me for— whoa—

[ It nudges him, and Peter rocks back, a hand resting against its beak to catch the bird... thing... as it tries to get his attention. It goes in for another nudge, and Peter laughs a little. ]

It’s kinda cute, isn’t it?

[ Gamora isn't going to call something cute, but— ]

Its feet look like it could eviscerate someone.

[ But the bird isn't trying to nip at Peter or rip out his innards, and instead, rubs its beak up against his hand with that unceasing trilling. Its beady eye watches him, a lid blinking quickly from the side as it cocks head to look him over.

A few of the other birds continue to make curious noises, but they're much more shy about approaching. ]

[ Well, at that pleasant observation, Peter glances down and—

... It’s not an inaccurate assessment.

But the dino-fern-bird doesn’t seem all that eager to rip him to shreds, so Peter takes it as good, for now. ]

I mean, so did the wyvern, though, and it had teeth for days, and we rode that thing.

[ He gives the trilling creature a fond little pat on its beak, and he glances back at Gamora. ]

C’mon. Take it easy. It’s friendly.

The wyvern was domesticated.

[ ... Ish.

Mostly, she doesn't know what this thing is or what it wants, and in survival, it pays to trust nothing in her surroundings.

But the beast looks particularly pleased by the attention it's receiving from Peter, continuing to coo and chirp at them both, and she finally sighs and lets an ounce of tension slide from her shoulders. ]

If these are the only creatures in the area, this might not be a bad place to stay until daylight.

[ If Peter wasn’t wearing his mask, Gamora would be enjoying the full force of his skeptical look. But she relaxes, if only a little, and Peter gives her a quick, approving nod.

He gives the bird-like creature another little pat on its beak, and at Gamora’s suggestion, he glances around at their surroundings again. It’s nice enough, he guesses; and with the waterfalls feeding into the pools, he has to assume the water is fresh. The rest of the... flock? Of alien birds are still keeping their distance, so hopefully they’re likely to leave him and Gamora alone for the rest of the evening. ]

Might not be a bad idea.

[ And he steps back, away from his new friend, who continues to chirp and trill at him. ]

We’re gonna have to figure out something for dinner, though.

[ Gamora's eyes wander over towards the pools, where the birds are pecking at some spiky plants. ]

Those should be edible, if we cook them.

[ Otherwise, they might have to forage for a few other things. She didn't exactly pack overnight supplies, but the wyvern had taken them so far out that by the time she realized where they were, they weren't within walking distance of the city. ]

[ The cactus gets a dubious look, but, well, the birds seem to be doing well enough with them. They’re... probably not toxic? Or maybe the creatures evolved in certain ways to eat them?

... Yeah. He’s gonna have Gamora try it first.

He casts around again, pointing out to a clearing some distance away. ]

We should probably set up over there. If we build a fire too close by, it might spook these guys.

[ Gamora nods in agreement, and in order to start doing exactly that, she steps around the bird. It cocks its head at her for a moment, chirping, and then goes back to nudging Peter hopefully for attention.

Apparently, it's convinced it made a friend.

Along the way, Gamora gathers up some pieces of kindling, any stray wood that looks mostly dry, to start a little pile for their fire. The rest of the flock watches her move, not advancing, but curious with coos and whistles directed at her.

... They probably aren't investigating because Gamora isn't responding to them the way Peter had. ]

[ Well, good thing Peter’s convinced of the same, because he carefully gives the creature a quick pat between its eyes. It’s like a weirdly shaped dog, with how affectionate it’s being.

As Gamora collects firewood, Peter takes it on himself to collect up pieces of fruit, considering the birds have taken something of a liking to him. He watches as one of the bird-things picks at the cactus-like plant, avoiding its green base and pulling at the red growths. Carefully, he plucks a few of the larger bulbs from one of the unoccupied cactuses, balancing them in his arms, before moving on to another one.

Some of the creatures trill at him whenever he wanders close, and he offers a few bright greetings in response. The first bird – who Peter has resolved to call Ducky, just to make things easier on him – continues to trail after him, watching him curiously. Ducky continues to coo at him, and Peter just patiently keeps up a sort of patter, offering the creature whatever thoughts came to mind. (I wish all the animals had a cool attitude like you. Man, these plants aren’t dangerous, are they? ‘Cause if I end this day puking into a ditch, I’m gonna be really pissed—)

When he thinks he’s collected enough, he heads over to Gamora and their little campsite.

Ducky predictably, follows him. ]

[ Gamora absently listens to Peter's babbling, a distant little smile slipping onto her face as she starts to deal with their fire. She's putting together the wood, assembling the kindling, and not interrupting Peter as he entertains his bird... thing. Whatever it actually is.

She glances up when he approaches with the fruits, eyeing his not-so-little tagalong. ]

You made a friend.

[ Because as soon as Peter stops walking, Ducky is going to bop his head against Peter's shoulder with a happy little chirrup. ]

Seems that way, huh?

[ Peter moves to set the fruits in a pile, but the creature gives him a light headbutt. Peter huffs out an irritated little breath. ]

C'mon, man.

[ He takes one of the little fruits, catching Ducky's attention with it, then tossing it lightly away. ]

Go get it.

[ And Ducky goes trotting after it, letting Peter finally crouch down, setting the fruits into a pile. ]

Edited 2018-01-19 07:32 (UTC)

[ Suitably distracted, Ducky takes off after the fruit, giving Peter a brief moment of peace from his newfound pal.

Gamora shakes her head, amused (and trying to pass it off as exasperated) as she reaches for one of the sharper sticks to stab a fruit unceremoniously. ]

And that is why you shouldn’t entertain wild animals.

[ Because they might bond.

And Peter is not allowed to bring that feathery plant beast home.

She leans the speared fruit against its piled mates, and then starts to ignite a small fire for them, working diligently and with practiced motions. ]

Don't be mad that they like me better.

[ With Gamora building the fire – or at least starting to – Peter reaches behind his ear to hit the trigger to retract his mask. He blinks in the darkness, once the blue light fades away, and he squints as his sight adjusts without the aid of his mask's systems.

Once he can kind of see again, he reaches over to Gamora's little pile of kindling to find another stick, skewering a second fruit. Just for something to do, really. ]

You can keep your birds.

[ She glances over at where Ducky has found the fruit, and the creature plucks it up from the ground, bringing it back to where she and Peter sit in the dim light. It doesn't return to nudging at Peter, but instead, drops the fruit on the ground to begin pecking at it nearby.

After a few attempts, sparks catch on kindling, and Gamora gently coaxes it to spread to the bigger sticks. Soon, the fire is snapping and flickering in the dark, illuminating the small clearing around them. She picks up her recently abandoned fruit-on-a-stick, and holds it over the flames to let it cook. ]

I will eat this first, to see if it has any sort of concerning poison.

[ It’s a good thing that Ducky seems to settle in, because Peter was readying up another fruit to toss away.

Once the fire’s going, Peter has to blink again to let his sight adjust. Once it does, he flashes Gamora a concerned sort of look. ]

I thought you said these were edible?

[ She lifts a brow at him in the dim firelight. ]

I said they should be. Wouldn't you prefer that I check before you try it?

[ Just to be sure.

She's trying to keep the Terran alive, okay. ]

I mean, yeah, but—

[ He puffs out a breath, looking dubiously at the red fruit. ]

I meant, like. I thought you knew already. And I’d hate to point out the obvious, here, but even if it’s edible for you, that doesn’t mean it’s edible for me.

[ Alien biology and all.

But he sighs, moving his own skewered fruit toward the flame. ]

Just so you know, if I die from this? I’m totally coming back to haunt you.

I’m fine with that.

[ Completely nonchalantly, like the possibility that this might kill Peter isn’t a problem.

(Of course it’s a problem, but that doesn’t mean she won’t harass him.)

She pulls the fruit on its stick back, giving its steaming exterior a onceover, deems it acceptable, and then takes a bite. Her expectations are fairly low, but she’s genuinely surprised by the flavor that fills her senses.

She chews and swallows (because she’s not a heathen) before speaking. ]

It’s good, actually.

You say that now, but you’re gonna seriously regret it once I start hiding all your stuff.

[ Once she pulls the fruit away from the flame, he watches her warily, casting the fruit another skeptical look. When she bites into it, he tenses, waiting for her to spit it out in disgust or to, like, puke, or to keel over. Something. But instead, she looks pleasantly surprised as she chews, and Peter arches an eyebrow at her.

The appraisal only slightly reassures him, and he leaves his piece of fruit over the fire for a few more moments – he’s pretty sure he’s left it cooking about as long as Gamora has, by now – and he pulls it back, waiting for it to cool. ]

So supposing I don’t die from this, what’s the plan for tomorrow?

[ Gamora continues to eat as Peter cooks his fruit, and with his question, she offers a thoughtful hum. ]

See where this water leads, first. If that proves useless, we can probably find high ground and locate Namarak Mountain and use that as a landmark to find the city.

[ She doesn't sound concerned about getting back to Wyver, at least. ]

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