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WHO: Nebula (

furibund) & YOU (open and closed prompts)
WHAT: August Catchall
WHERE: Throughout the city
WHEN: August! (it's a day early but)
WARNINGS: Will updated as necessary

tinymintywolf

OOC / WILDCARD

You are always welcome to add me on plurk hopewillbloom or PM me for plotting! Discord is on request/closer CR because I will goldfish DMS. If you'd like me to make you a random starter always feel free to ask! Or to ask me to do the same. New prompts throughout the month! An easy prompt is Nebula is trying to meet people and share possible information. Something, something they gotta make Friends she guesses.

General content warnings for Nebula may be mentions of painful body modifications via torture (mental, if not in dialogue; but usually try to avoid)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Same thing with the paper files. Everything's blank.

[ Peter hasn't bothered with the shit at city hall, but he did poke around at the bank when it first opened up, wondering if maybe he could dredge up files on the city's former residents or the bank's former clients. (He may have also been interested in doing some light identity theft, assuming there was anything worth thieving. Hey, old habits die hard.)

Predictably, he turned up a whole lot of nothing. ]

They did a really thorough job of wiping away any evidence on who might've been here before us.

Paper's burn up easy. It's a lot more difficult to scrub a computer clean.

[ Said with a slight shake of her head, dark orbs setting straight ahead but creased underneath brows: ]

Either they really want to emphasis there's no help from the outside or that we... what? There is nothing else beyond but this city?

[ She may scoff a laugh at the thought, but it's not impossible. Much of her life had been led with the belief that she couldn't escape from Thanos's control. That she would live and die a tool to him and his "parenting" had worked to ensure that. This place wants to cut them off, there's no denying it. ]

Burning paper is one thing, but I'm getting the impression that the forms are literally wiped clean. Like, the papers are put away into folders like they're alphabetized, but they're all literally blank. Like, Clint Eastwood at some point filled out form SBB-317, but all the writing is gone.

[ Not unlike how one might wipe a whiteboard clean.

He sighs again. By now they've reached the little hardware store further down the street – in the middle of the city like this, it seems like this might have once been an established mom and pop shop that the city cropped-up around. Maybe it doesn't have all the bells and whistles of a big, warehouse-sized hardware store, but it probably has what they're looking for.

He holds the door open for Nebula before ducking inside as well. ]

I dunno. Maybe it's not even an intentional threat. Maybe there was a crop of folks here before us, and now they're just. Gone. And they don't want us looking into it.

Not unlike the rest of this city. The only place with names is the graveyard and the bank.

[ And she's not equipped to think about what that could mean. Or maybe she was and she simply didn't want to go down that trail of thinking. ]

[ She moves past him - doesn't shoulder him, at least - when they enter and turns her attention to the furthest aisle on the left. ]

Now we're here in their place. Who's to say we're not next?

No, we probably are.

[ And again, that same false levity, as he slips in after her. The front displays appear to be various light bulbs in all manners of shapes and sizes. How fun. ]

No telling which batch we are. How many times they've run this same test. Maybe it's just a variable thing – maybe this go-around, they're trying to figure out how we'll do without bureaucracy or civil service?

[ Nebula decides to bypass the first aisle rather quickly, but noted the various wiring and metal plates that can be used for later. Half your body didn't wind up some form of machine without you learning how to handle it in a pinch. But even beyond could-be weapons like hammers and pliers she's looking for something else first. ]

[ She snorts at the suggestion: ]

Not well with their denizens killing each other already.

[ Since the whole reason the ruckus of someone dying for "science" started because someone else had been the fault of one. She may not touch the network much, but that doesn't mean she hasn't lurked it. ]

They'll get more bored by the day and start taking each other out.

[ Which is alarming if only because... the dead come back to life here, apparently. That's unsettling she decides, moving to the second aisle. If the first was for fixtures this was for windows. ] Plenty of blunt and sharp objects.

Edited 2023-08-02 05:19 (UTC)

Not much point in taking each other out if they just pop back up the next day, ready for revenge.

[ Peter doesn't have much he needs here, though he's taking a mental inventory of what's available. (Why are there hot sauces here? What a mystery!) ]

And there's something enforcing some kind of laws. Maybe not at the moment of the crime, but there are consequences after the fact. So someone or something is keeping track.

[ Surveillance states: you gotta love 'em. ]

Unless they forget who's done it.

[ Because that's part of what the person wanted to die for before, wasn't it? To test what happens and see how - memory loss was a large part of it. But if you asked her, if someone died and came back like it was nothing with just memory loss. That was a small price to pay. ]

If it feels like something was always here, what's to say they haven't left?

[ The city feels empty but not. Maybe somehow it's parallel realities overlapping? Who knows, it's a headache. She pauses when she finds the tool aisle specifically and though she frowns a touch - close but never quite what she wants she picks up some of the items: pliers, wire cutters, screwdrivers, etc as she tosses at him: ]

But being a thief isn't considered a crime.

Edited 2023-08-02 17:23 (UTC)

[ Lots of food for thought, and he absorbs it as well as he can. It's a lot of what ifs, a lot of how abouts, a lot of wouldn't it be wild ifs, and nothing concrete.

He wishes their bad guy had a face. At least that way he would know who to be pissed off at. ]

Maybe, maybe not. Or maybe there's a standard to it.

[ He points to the aisle. ]

Here? Free game.

[ Then, he points to himself. ]

Steal from a person? Jail.

Or maybe we really should go around looting. Find out where the line is drawn.

[ He's not wrong. Apparently, taking whatever they needed wasn't considered theft even though in most places it would be. She imagines if they were greedy, like he suggested, there might be some ramifications. ]

Want to find out?

[ A thoughtful pause, then, ]

You mean looting, right? 'Cause I'm not sure I'm up for actual robbery.

[ Not yet, anyway. And not without some practice. ]

And I'd rather not take candy from kids just to test a theory. Because if there aren't any repercussions, then we'll just look like giant fucking pricks.

Weren't you once the proud professional thief?

[ It's mocking, sorry Peter. Not because she necessarily doubted those skills - sometimes she did - but just because. ]

If there aren't then we'd just put it back.

I'm out of practice. And the thieving was mostly from warehouses tied to big corporations or ancient temples or unsuspecting cruises or little old ladies with giant purses.

[ This, at least, is thrown back lightly. But he sobers a little when he adds, ] And I still don't have my guns.

[ A big, heavy stick does not a replacement firearm make, unfortunately.

He scrubs his face, trying to remember what he skimmed on the network. ]

From what I remember seeing, vandalism is enough to land you in cuffs for like, a day. But I saw that back when we first arrived, so I could be misremembering.

Must be more out of practice than I thought if you're worried about a place with no security.

[ Except for the fact that there's some omnipresent being that knows everything they're doing and reprimands them for it. But physically??? There's nothing stopping them from looting a whole store. ]

Good thing there's plenty of materials here to make something with.

[ Not a traditional gun, but there was plenty in this store alone that could be made into a projectile gun if someone had enough gumption to. And between them, they're going to have to. She rolls her eyes, deadpans: ]

I've faced worse punishments.

[ He huffs out a breath, somewhere caught between a laugh and a sigh, and he waves a hand. ]

Yeah, I know. I'm just level-setting, 'cause being cuffed all day will be annoying as fuck to deal with. Assuming that's the consequence, anyway.

[ It could be a repercussion they haven't even thought of. Like, what if they have to do community service?

The horror. ]

Try being cuffed to the crew quarters of a ship with the back ripped off and gunfire.

[ Look. She's learned that's kind of the day her life began changing - for the better in most ways - but that didn't mean she forgot that day. Of her mix of thinking the guardians were stupid and admirable for whatever they were (Drax). It was still one of the most annoying days in her life. Annoying - not terrible, just annoying. When she began to learn what annoyance was instead of anger. ]

Only one way to find out. If it's big enough, maybe they have to do something about it themselves.

[ Brightly, ] I'd rather not, thanks.

[ That last bit gives him pause, though, as he chews it over. Soon enough, he shakes his head. ]

I doubt they're gonna show up personally if we jack a bunch of TVs.

[ Still, it's a sobering thought – what would their mysterious kidnappers find egregious enough to show themselves? What's the exact amount of property damage they would have to inflict to get the head honcho to poke their head out and be like, "Hey. Cut that out"?

He turns his attention back to the store. ]

Let's gear up first. Then we can figure out the logistics of plundering after that.

Lucky me.

[ She casts him a look as she tucks one of the multitools into her pants pocket and then grabs another to toss at him. ]

I was thinking bigger than TVs.

[ Not that there is enough she'd consider valuable enough to come bother with herself. Guessing what would be enough for the overseers of this place seemed like it would be more than just a single store. They'd probably need some kind of group effort for that, ugh. ]

On it. Though I guess we could try to just blow a building up.

[ Save them half the trouble. ]

[ He shoots her a sidelong glance. ]

Rocket has been a bad influence on you.

[ It almost comes out as fond. Almost. If you tilt your head a little.

That said, he's not shooting the idea down; if anything, he's adding another little cloud on their brainstorming chart. ]

As long as no one gets hurt. Anything big enough to bring down a building has a high chance of causing collateral damage.

And I'm supposed to feel bad?

[ Her humor deadpan. There's no denying that for a number of reasons Rocket is the one member of the Guardians she is closest to. So she might have picked up (more) arsonism from him? What of it? ]

[ Be glad she doesn't feel the need to defend him. ]

[ Debates a moment before grabbing something else off the shelf: ]

Obviously. We'll send out a transmission first. A bigger building, the better. Can't have anyone near that.

[ Here's the really funny thing:

If this suggestion had been coming from anyone else but but Nebula (or Gamora), Peter would have immediately dismissed it out of hand. Drax was the murderous, vengeful type, and Rocket just liked blowing things up. Mantis and Groot were poorly influenced by the two aforementioned Guardians.

That it's coming from Nebula means that maybe the idea has some merit.

It's why Peter answers, ]

What about City Hall?

[ If it had been anywhere else this more Moral Edition™ Nebula wouldn't have suggested the destruction of properties needlessly of civilians. Here, the only civilians were the others trapped and right now the needed answers - some sign there was anything to fight other than... Believing themselves labrats. ]

[ And maybe that anger that had flooded her life for so long has ebbed in back enough at her lack of power and feeling of vulnerability here that blowing something up to see doesn't sound like a poor move. ]

[ It's why she doesn't even blink at the suggestion: ]

Big. It would definitely put on a show. Anywhere else and it'd taken down the current leadership.

[ He's silent for a second, thinking over the logistics. (What chemicals would they need, for instance? How much of it? What were the timings again on mixing everything together—?)

Then his good sense suddenly catches up to him, and he shakes his head sharply, raising both hands like someone is holding him at gunpoint. ]

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay. Time-out.

I just played back everything we've been saying in my head, and I realized how fucking insane we sound.

And?

[ I'm sorry, Peter, this is the woman who just a few months ago RIPPED AN ARM OFF. FOR A CHRISTMAS PRESENT. ]

[ And also was you knwo trained as an assassin. ]

It'd get results.

[ And that's all that matters - you know, as long as they safely made sure no one got injured in the blast. ]

Edited 2023-08-03 05:00 (UTC)

We shouldn't be blowing anything up.

[ He says it a little hesitantly, because part of him still acknowledges this sounds fun, however.

He pauses again, thinking this through, then he shakes his head sharply again.

A little more decisively, ]

No. No. Okay. We're not blowing anything up unless there's a good reason to try and draw them out. And that's even assuming whoever's running this place didn't make everything out of some magical bullshit material. Indestructium or whatever the hell.