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 ! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Gamora glances towards the rest of the odd flock of bird-things, tipping her chin forward as if in agreement. There's a good deal of them, and they range from smaller than Ducky to larger, and if they were more curious, that might be a problem.

Peter's little friend is manageable.

They seem to be absently watching her and Peter, perking up specifically when they speak, but otherwise lazing about the clearing. ]

It seems they're attracted to sound.

[ A pause. ]

No wonder he likes you so much.

Are they?

[ And he glances back at the flock, sees the flutter of some of their crests just as they’re settling. ]

I have been told my voice is distinctly musical.

[ — and he spots it, then, the way some of them seem to twitch to attention – but that could just be because he spoke at all, in the same way his attention might be drawn to the snap of a twig. He hums quietly – spots another twitch from some of the closer animals – before shrugging a little and turning back to Gamora. ]

Well, I can’t say I blame ‘em.

More like "loud."

[ Not really, though.

Or, at least, not always.

He just happens to talk so much more than Gamora does as a general rule, and that would garner more attention. ]

[ He casts her a distinctly unimpressed look in retur, though he doesn’t comment further. They’d just end up teasing each other into circles.

Peter sprawls back onto the ground, pillowing his head with his folded hands. The stars are starting to show, now that the sun has fully set, and the sight of an alien sky should probably be unsettling – except Peter is already used to looking up and not recognizing the arrangement of stars. ]

You never said why you wanted to come out here.

[ Absently, conversationally. If Gamora gets to ask him, he figures it’s only fair that he gets to ask her. ]

[ Unlike Peter, Gamora stays sitting up, gently prodding at the fire with a stick, nudging around the embers to help them catch on additional wood.

She glances over at him when he speaks, giving a shrug. ]

I haven't explored very far until today. If this is to be our home, I want to know it.

[ It's not like they really have anywhere else to call home now, whether they like it or not. ]

[ He hums quietly – acknowledgment more than agreement – then, slowly, solemnly, ]

I still think the Natha or whatever are full of shit.

[ But maybe that's just because Peter's a little gun-shy around assholes who call themselves gods. ]

[ She's quiet, considering him from across the flames. ]

Why do you say that?

[ Not that she disagrees, necessarily, but she'd also rather hear him out. ]

[ He's silent for a long moment, scowling up at the sky. Then, his voice affects a lofty quality: ]

"We're nameless gods who have observed the universe for billions of years or whatever. We've saved your life, so you seriously owe us one – but don't worry, we're not like normal gods. We're cool gods. We're totally chill."

[ He snorts derisively. ]

The whole thing's fishy as hell.

[ She hums in low agreement, her lips twisted with something like disapproval. ]

You aren't wrong.

[ Because having so much power and being truly benevolent is somehow harder to believe than the idea of their worlds being swallowed whole by the Storm. ]

What do you think they are hiding?

... I dunno.

[ And why would he? He's still a newcomer here, despite any stories that say he's been here before. He hasn't seen or interacted enough with their benefactors or whatever they want to call themselves to get a good bead on them.

—but even if he had, would he be able to figure anything out? He certainly hadn't when Ego was involved, and he'd spent a handful of days with the bastard before he showed his true colors. A detective Peter Quill most certainly is not, but his gut instinct – as it first had with Ego – is saying not to trust it. ]

I mean, this whole thing could be a setup. Maybe there's no Storm. Maybe this whole thing could just be one huge, elaborate, trans-dimensional kidnapping scheme.

[ Which... sounds ridiculous, but there was a time in his life when he thought getting abducted by aliens was ridiculous, too.

He breathes out a sharp sigh, finally lifting his head to catch her gaze. ]

What do you think?

[ She hasn't taken her eyes off of him, instead meeting that look when he turns towards her. She's still mulling over her words, choosing them for a moment longer before she speaks. ]

I think that I do not trust them.

[ That much, she knows. ]

Their choices in those they rescued from the Storm, if it exists, are dangerous. They're putting people at risk, and if they are powerful enough to have taken us in the first place, they should know that.

[ Because Thanos is in one of those pods.

And so is Ego. ]

[ He frowns at that, curiosity piqued. ]

What's that mean?

[ He had found the others – Drax and Groot, Yondu and Kraglin, and even his mother, asleep in those pods. But after he found Meredith Quill, looking as healthy and vibrant as she had in those days before sickness took her, he had stopped looking.

Something ugly twists in his stomach at her words, though, and he props himself up on an elbow. ]

Did you see someone?

[ Her jaw ticks once. She doesn't immediately respond, because she's debating on how much she wants to share; she hasn't mentioned what Rocket told her about Ego, uncertain if Peter knew for himself or if they needed to tell him, but— ]

Thanos.

[ As soon as Rocket had informed her, she'd gone to see for herself – and it had taken every ounce of self-control not to jettison the bastard into space. ]

[ Oh.

Okay, well, that's about a trillion times worse than he expected, and that ugly thing in him freezes, plummeting like a stone to his gut. ]

You saw him?

[ Not Are you sure?, because he knows Gamora isn't in the habit of just spouting off some rumor she overhead. ]

Yes, I saw him.

[ Her words are flat, and she finally looks away from Peter, back to the fire. This isn't the conversation she wanted to be having, because it— frustrates her. Keeping Thanos alive is reckless and dangerous and can bring nothing but suffering, and while she could do something about it, when he's finally in a vulnerable position—

She still can't touch him. ]

Rocket told me, and then I found him.

[ He pushes himself up fully, studying her by the firelight, and— he's worried. Like, he knows Thanos is a Huge Fucking Problem – capitals for emphasis – but most of that he knows in the abstract. He's as much a boogeyman as the Storm is, as far as Peter's concerned, but he at least knows the bastard is real. ]

There's really nothing we can do about him?

[ Like, okay, obviously killing him is the most expedient solution, but— ]

Can we— I dunno, petition to keep him under or something?

[ Because if the Natha are as merciful as they claim to be, surely they wouldn't want a remorseless psycho in their midst. ]

[ She shakes her head, some of that frustration bleeding through in the tense set of her shoulders. ]

They wash their hands of the responsibility. If he wakes, he's our problem, unless he crosses the Natha personally.

[ So he could do any number of things, as long as he didn't offend the Natha himself. ]

[ Yeah, he figured it was something like that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not disappointing, still.

Peter chews on his lower lip, thinking it over. ]

He’s cut off from his resources, at least.

[ Because a lot of what made the Mad Titan terrifying – aside from being a scary asshole on his own – was his generals, his armies, his weapons, be they person or otherwise. ]

If he wakes up, I mean. And if he does, well— it’d probably only be a matter of time, right? Before he started messing around, and I’d bet they’d wanna nip that in the bud really quick.

Potentially.

[ "Potentially" because Thanos is smart. Thanos is a brilliant man, and his cruelty isn't limited to his resources.

(Or maybe that's years of being trained to believe he's untouchable, of having it drilled into her head that Thanos is the be-all-end-all of the world, that he's invulnerable.) ]

Giving him any freedom is dangerous, Peter. If he has it, he'll use it.

I know.

[ Well, okay, not really. Peter doesn’t really know. What he does know is that the guy’s very existence is enough to make Gamora tense and wary in a unique way, and Peter can pick up on that, at least.

He picks up a twig from the ground, fiddles with it to give his hands something to do. ]

We’ll watch him. If he wakes up, then— we’ll deal with him. But maybe he’ll never wake up? Maybe he’s just gonna stay in that pod for the rest of time.

[ That’s a nice thought. She’s not certain how much she believes in the possiblity, but... it’s a nice thought. ]

Maybe.

[ ... She doesn’t sound convinced. ]

For now, it’s good enough that he’s there.

[ He isn’t a current problem, at least. ]

[ ... Yeah. Peter’s not too optimistic on that front, either, but he doesn’t say as much aloud. Instead, he snaps the thin twig between his hands. ]

But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s there at all.

[ Which just goes to support his “the Natha are not-so-secretly giant douchebags” theory. ]

[ A tense nod. ]

No, it doesn’t.

He’s there, and I can’t do anything about it.

[ But she’s also a little glad that Nebula is still asleep, too, given Thanos’s existence. She isn’t entirely sure her sister would leave his pod be. ]

[ Peter studies her for a breath or two longer before sighing to himself, tossing the two ends of the stick into the fire. ]

And it’s like a ticking time bomb. I get it.

[ He runs his hands over his legs – an outlet for the nervous energy building in him – and at length, he shakes his head. ]

How come you didn’t say anything earlier?

[ Hesitation, but— ]

You are dealing with enough right now.

[ Peter is still— dealing in the wake of Ego's mess, and she didn't want to give him yet another nightmare to consider. ]

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