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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

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.

[ Nebula rolls her eyes and for a moment there's that very obvious part of that blooming more comedic side — it's veiled in sarcasm and sass but it's definitely there. ]

Got to ruin the fun in everything.

[ For a moment it's almost like she's channeling the energy of Rocket, probably. It's nonserious but she folds her arms (where's that basket we don't question it). Adds: ]

We have to do something. It's been weeks, Peter. If something's wrong on Knowhere —

[ She cuts herself off quickly turns away with something that's more akin to a snarl. She wouldn't forgive herself, namely. Or him, probably. But especially this whole damned place. There are kids out there. ]

[ He's on the cusp of snapping back, defensive, and some thoughtless reply is already on the tip of his tongue, but—

Ah.

He softens, and unconsciously he lowers his voice a little. ]

It'll be okay. We'll figure something out.

... Preferably something where we're not responsible for bombing a building.

Not like either of us haven't done worse.

[ She doesn't quite snap back the answer. Her more than he definitely had a record - one she'll probably never quite forgive herself for; For as many reasons as there are stars in the sky. Maybe that's what her anger turned into. ]

[ She shakes her head and shoulders past him, it's a familiar move when she doesn't want to talk about it. Doesn't want to quite admit to the thing building up in her chest. Exhales. ]

Then you better start thinking of something else. Fast.

[ She marches past, and he rocks with the movement, both hands held up – don't shoot! – in an attempt to defuse her annoyance. ]

All on me? That's hardly fair.

[ He glances to one side, spotting a little set of jeweler's screwdriver set. Eventually, he figures the Walkman may need repairs, so he pockets it. ]

We could— [ He cuts himself off, pausing, before he tries again. If his voice sounds carefully level, it's because it is. ]

We need more eyes on this than just us two.

[ Because as they've just seen, the two of them can very easily get into a bad feedback loop. ]

Life isn't fair.

[ It's meant near as a joke. If he's going to deny a perfectly decent plan - if they ensured no one was in danger - then he gets to come up with another one. Maybe that makes him captain around these parts (it doesn't, somehow that's always ended up a shared burden). Probably because she holds the braincell half the time. ]

You don't say.

[ Dryly. ] It's what we keep circling back to.

Yeah.

[ And he admits it quietly, fidgeting with the screwdriver set in his pocket. The metal clinks pleasantly against the plastic. ]

I just mean... maybe we start working with the other folks here. Piggyback off the folks who have been here longer and tried weird shit already.

We're not the only ones trying to get out.

You mean make friends.

[ It's a touch coldly, because they've said all this before. ]

I have been.

Problem is, no one has much to go on.

[ Peter is silent for a second, then, ]

Have you really been making friends?

[ Sorry, Nebula. He sounds a little surprised, though he also manages to sound a little pleased.

He knows they were joking about it earlier, but he assumed that she mostly meant that she was, you know. Interfacing. Or speaking with people long enough to not want to kill them on sight. ]

[ Don't call her out, Peter, that's just rude. ]

[ She's quiet a moment. Debates lying, decides it's not worth it. ]

Not exactly.

[ Saying anything else would mean admitting she doesn't know how to make friends. Not wanting to kill someone and attempting to do the right thing didn't make her any better at people; There's certain social skills she still lacks. Actively trying to make friends is one of them. ]

[ Still, she corrects: ]

I've been trying to make contacts.

[ Which for Nebula is about the same thing? ]

[ See, Peter also thinks that's the same thing – or at the very least, it's close enough, as far as the Guardians go – which is why the surprise is fading away to something more encouraging. ]

Like who?

[ Nebula stares at him. Breathes a laugh that's barely more than a caw as she answers, ]

You'll find out if they work out.

[ He manages to look a little offended, though clearly not overly so, considering he's still harping on the subject. ]

What, I'm not allowed to take an interest in your social life? I just wanna know who it is you've been hanging out with.