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

Entry tags:

( 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

[ He falls quiet at that, kicking at small rock with the toe of his boot. ]

... I haven't really thought about it.

[ The honest answer, at least. Sure, it was a thought that had come to the surface ever so briefly, like dust mote floating through, but otherwise, he hadn't given it a great deal of thought. ]

What about you?

[ Another opportunity where Gamora could hide her hand, shrug this off, but— ]

I thought about getting a bigger space. Not a separate one.

[ But, apparently, if the option is living alone or with the others in their little place, she'll take the latter. ]

[ He didn't realize he was holding his breath for her answer before he's slowly letting it out.

Still, he keeps his gaze averted, as if he really needs to concentrate on this piece of fruit in case it tries to escape his grip. ]

Well, okay then. It's a nonissue. Forget I said anything.

[ She considers him, seeming to debate whether or not to keep probing him, but this... this is good enough. She recognizes Peter's tells in the moment, and that's oddly reassuring, even if he was still dodging around being transparent. ]

All right.

[ A pause, and then— ]

But I still think we could live somewhere bigger.

[ "We" is the keyword, here. ]

[ He takes a bite, even if his appetite has currently skittered off somewhere. ]

We can talk it over more.

[ With a little more certainty, this time; he doesn't sound as though he's disagreeing. ]

Like I said, I can take up jobs with that Cree guy and hope it doesn't bite me in the ass.

[ This, though, is slightly less certain. Like, yeah, okay, he's not opposed to doing shady shit, and as the Guardians, they sometimes delved into grayer areas, but it seems weird, now, to fall back onto that after they've been heralded as heroes. ]

[ She shakes her head as she finally withdraws her fruit from the fire. ]

You don't have to. That seems like an unnecessary risk.

[ And Cree, from what Gamora knows, is not... what she would call trustworthy. They may not have the most cut-and-dry morals, but she doesn't see a need to be wholly underhanded. ]

Are there other options for earning silver?

[ He finishes off the last of his fruit, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. ]

Random jobs, like we've been doing. There's jobs with the cities, I guess, but— I don't really wanna get caught up in this stupid faction war, you know?

It's not like this'd be my first time working for some shady folks, anyway.

[ He shrugs, brushing off his hands. ]

Besides – hopping into a fighting ring isn't exactly skipping through a field of daisies, either.

[ She nods along as he speaks, picking at her fruit and considering what he says.

And while he may have a good point about the fighting ring— ]

It pays better than what I have seen Cree offer.

[ But... money is money, at the end of the day, and she understands not wanting to be caught in the middle of the tension between the cities. ]

Just be... selective.

[ He lets out a dismissive sort of noise, something that says, "I know what I'm doing" but without so many words. ]

You're sure that's something you wanna do, though? Fight for cash?

[ She purses her lips, and this time, it's her turn to consider the fruit in her hands. ]

Options are limited with my skillset, Peter.

[ He frowns a little, studying her by the flickering firelight. ]

You don't have to do that, is what I'm saying. I know the random odd-jobs aren't exactly stable, but we can still save up for a while.

[ She's quiet as she stares down at her fruit – not fidgeting like certain others might, but studying it intently nonetheless. Prize fighting isn't exactly an honorable way to use her skills, but... it pays well, and the reality is, in many ways, she's suited to it. She's dangerous (deadly), and she was trained to be a weapon, trained to be the best, and... it's different if she's choosing how she uses those talents, isn't it?

She's been warring with this for a while now.

A soft noise in the back of her throat, and then she tosses her fruit to Ducky instead, barely glancing up to see the bird snatch it from the air to happily begin devouring the food for itself. ]

Those jobs are never guaranteed.

[ That's... fair, honestly, but still—

She's not looking at him, and she's not exactly making an impassioned defense of fighting in the fighting rings or whatever. The woman he'd met, Dutch, seemed to enjoy it there, seemed to enjoy all the perks that came with her position, but that doesn't exactly mean Gamora would. ]

Well— tell me straight up. Do you want to do this, or do you just think this is all you can do?

It's what I know how to do.

[ And admittedly, she likes competition; that part isn't in question. It's a good living that offers a great deal in return, but—

Is that what she wants to be? Gamora is still trying to find a balance between who she is and what Thanos made her; she wants to know what is meaningful or motivating to her, and not simply the work of a finely crafted weapon. She values her skills – she's proud of them – but she doesn't want to be reduced to nothing but again. ]

[ His lips press together in a thin line as he studies her. ]

So you don't want to do this. Is that what I'm hearing?

[ She sighs, not immediately responding as she tries to decide on the right words.

Finally, ]

It is more complicated than that.

[ ... Which is the truth, even if she's still trying to understand for herself why it is. ]

[ He peers at her by the firelight before he seems to settle in more comfortably – something that seems to say, "I'm in this for the long haul." ]

Explain it to me, then.

[ ... Ah. He expects her to do the talking thing now.

She isn't good at this part – the articulation of her feelings, because she's so unused to having them. Or, at least, being comfortable with them in the first place, allowed to experience the scope of her feelings. She doesn't do this – or, rather, she didn't do this, but here Peter is, wanting to know why she feels the way she does, when even she can't parse it out for herself.

The quiet stretches for a moment, her eyes fixed on the fire, and finally, her attention flicks back to him. ]

You know what I was trained for.

[ Her tone isn't cold, but it's detached in the way it so often is when she's discussing her past. ]

You know what Thanos made me.

[ It's carved into her face, after all, shows itself in every inch of her when she moves, when she fights. ]

I do not want to be that, anymore. I don't want to turn myself into a weapon, for my own gains or otherwise, but these abilities are mine – not his.

[ A short huff of annoyance, frustration, and she shakes her head, glancing up at Peter. ]

Shouldn't I use them for myself?

[ ... Okay, admittedly? That's all very complicated, and Peter isn't entirely sure he has the right answer for her.

But, well, he gets it, honestly. He knows all too well what it's like, being shaped into something, having pride in your skills, but still feeling resentment over why you have them.

(And now, he's experienced that bitterness two times over. First, with being raised as a thief with the Ravagers. Then, finding out that his biological father only wanted him as a secondary power source.

It's pretty much bullshit, no matter how you slice it.)

He falls quiet for a second, pensive as he stares into their campfire.

Then, slowly, in a way that clearly shows he's speaking the words as he thinks of them, ]

Have you... thought of, like, other applications? Other ways to use your skills, I mean.

[ She doesn't fidget as she waits for Peter to speak, giving him the time he needs to think.

... The question startles her, and she blinks at him, her brow furrowing. ]

Like what?

[ She's open to suggestions. ]

Like—

[ ... Give him a sec to brainstorm. He licks his lips as he thinks, frowning at the flickering fire, then— ]

What if you got a job as, like, a bouncer at a club or something?

[ There's a slow lift in her silver brow.

That isn't a bad idea. ]

... That would be better than the fighting rings, yes.

[ Oh, that's encouraging, and he runs his palm along his leg as he continues to think. ]

Or, like, bodyguard work. Security. You'd probably be pretty good at thinking two steps ahead of any shitty assassin, right?

[ She doesn't quite smile, but her lips curl ever so slightly – amused, despite the turn of the conversation. ]

Easily.

[ Protection would be a better way to earn money, something that wouldn't require her to fight for others' entertainment and silver. ]

I should see if those opportunities are available.

[ Because she'd be damn good at it. ]

[ He's been around Gamora enough that he's started to recognize her smiles and not-smiles, and when her expression changes, he relaxes with it.

Gamora may not smile outright – not right now, anyway – but Peter does. ]

I mean, the fighting ring is still gonna be there, if you really wanna go a round or two, but— yeah. At least you know you've got options.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

what the shit this has been sitting unposted since last night

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject