（ rocket, perhaps, has more reason than even her to hate this particular arrangement. she may not know the specifics of his past, but every little insight she ever gained of him was like the twist of a knife.
the wooskull makes a soft warbling call of the first syllable of its name, and finally decides that it can slip under her arm, nesting on quill's lap and half against her. she sighs faintly, but doesn't try to dislodge it. it's just a baby, after all. ）
I don't mind losing a little peace so others can know it too.
（ she only had so much time, to undo all of what she did under thanos. what right would she even have to such grace as that? peace is a word for other people, other places, other times. not even resurrection can be restful.
she studies the wooskull as it drifts off to sleep, red eyes blinking closed in the soft light. when she changes tacks, her voice is thoughtful and soft. ）
Peter. Do you believe the others here to be trustworthy?
（ she is... undecided. but the majority of them are human, and human are still his people. perhaps he will have better insights than she. ）
[ It's his voice that's gone a little quiet this time, his free hand reaching out to gently pat the wooskull that's come to join them. It's weird but honestly kinda nice to be surrounded by the little critters that seem to have taken to them immediately, and the coziness of this tent and Gamora ... right now it feels like some kind of freakin' dream.
The kind of dream that he doesn't want to shatter with ideas of killing people, honestly.
But. ]
Hm? You mean the people of this world? Or the people we came here with? 'Cause I can't really speak on the people of this world ... except to hope that they're mostly okay. And as for the rest of the Ximilia crew ...
[ He frowns. ]
Did you know that I was here once? Not like, here here but ... apparently I did this whole thing before — for a little while, at least.
（ the word has a connotation to both of them that goes beyond its native meaning. her nose crinkles briefly as she considers how it sounds, not entirely certain she likes it. ）
I saw. I suppose it makes sense. An infinite number of universes...
（ she trails off. mean gamora, he'd said — and they hadn't really taken it upon themselves to discuss exactly what he'd meant by that in any real depth. but she can guess.
why should the same principles not apply here? some other peter jason quill, from some other place and some other time. it's funny, perhaps, that she can see a million ways she could have never come to exist, or had died with the people of her planet, but somehow, inexorably, whatever she imagines there is always a starlord. ）
[ He can't help but think of the other Gamora again too; just for a moment, to remember how different she was from the one resting against his side right now, his arm around her, the dark and pink curls of her long hair fanning out across his chest. The gesture is so small and seemingly so mundane, but it's a mark of closeness, of trust, of the mutual love shared between them — it's unquestionable now.
If Gamora could be so different, shaped by her experiences with the Guardians ... could the same be said of him too? He hadn't asked any specifics about when he'd come in from, and what he knew, but was there a chance he could have been a real dick?
Or was he more or less the same? ]
Anyway ... I guess what I was trying to say is that a lot of 'em seemed to know who I was. Some of them even said we were friends. And if it really was me, and if I really was friends with some of these guys ... they couldn't be all bad, right?
The guy who made that first post, Newt, seemed like a cool guy.
（ does he know? can he guess, that his being present and then being gone likely meant that his resolve wavered? she has seen that moment in him, clear as a boundless sky. she knows that peter — her peter — has a curious adamantine spine that is not common to any of the many species among the stars, but he is only human. sometimes, resolve is not enough.
she studies his hand where it's draped across her hip. the rough callouses, the little scars that have gone silver with age. is he near the middle of his life? she has never thought to ask. ）
I — he seemed... enthusiastic.
（ he reminded her almost of the collector. not quite uncomfortably so, but enough she can draw the comparison.
but he did apologize to her after his misstep, no matter that she ignored it. that matters. ）
But if some version of you was friends with him, I suppose that is testimonial enough.
[ Truthfully he hasn't even considered that his leaving meant that he never got his regret undone, that he might have decided it wasn't worth it or that it was too hard; he wouldn't know how to feel about it. As it is, he's been so preoccupied with the weirdness of the situation, the end result seemed to fall into lower priority. ]
Yeah? I mean, I'd like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character.
[ He huffs a quiet laugh at the joke at his own expense. The kind of guys he hangs out with, the ones he'd been raised by ... he can judge a scumbag from a non-scumbag most of the time, but he hadn't exactly been surrounded by honest, wholesome individuals either.
And the Guardians ... well, he picked the right ones to hang out with, to align his own destiny with. That's gotta count for something, right? ]
Peter, you are a staggeringly poor judge of character.
（ somehow, it's not an insult the way she frames it. perhaps that's due to the fact she follows it up with — ）
But you make people want to be better. So... perhaps that is the case with this Newt.
（ she takes his hand in hers. twines their fingers together. sometimes, the frailty here astounds her. she could break him with a touch, now that he is only mortal.
[ That gets a good and genuine laugh from him now, squeezing her fingers gently with his. He wouldn't have taken that as an insult, not from her anyway, but the follow-up is nice. It makes him feel warm and comforted and good in ways he hasn't felt in so long now.
He brings their joined hands up to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the top of her hand; brushes them across her knuckles. This hand could punch the hell out of a grown man and they'd thank her for it, but it's capable of this kind of gentleness too. He thinks of the way they've held hands on so many occasions, of how she'd pick Groot up when he'd still been barely more than a twig, of how she would pluck the debris from Rocket's fur after a messy mission ...
Man, he wishes this moment would literally last forever. He'd give almost anything to make it so, even if that isn't at all realistic. Even after they're done here, will they go home and recall these memories? Or would they go away, fading out like the end of a song? ]
Do you think we could do it? Get all the orbs and undo our regrets?
（ she does not answer him with any immediacy. instead, she closes her eyes. her mind drifts into the fetters and fragments of a life that ran its course. her life has been a series of impossible things, one after the other after the other. they live in a universe where one mad titan could warp the fabric of reality with a snap of his fingers.
how are the orbs any different, truly?
thanos would rip the universe apart just to have a power like that.
(she does not delude herself by thinking he might have regretted throwing her to her death. a daughter's hope, weighted against a warrior's cynicism cannot possibly win.)
she gently pulls her other hand away from where her little wooskull has fallen asleep against her, and uses it to envelop peter's between her two. ）
I think... that if anyone could, it would certainly be the Guardians of the Galaxy.
[ He isn't sure he'll ever get over every minute thing that Gamora does or says, not when he knows that going home means her absence is felt in every single part of his daily life. And it isn't just him, though he's likely to be the most human about it, or maybe the most Peter about it; he's never really been great about emotional control. (And that's a whole other thing.) But he knows the rest of their little family, and in Nebula's case — literal family — feels it too.
His voice is soft when he speaks, studying the way her hands enfold his like it's some marvel to be treasured. ]
Yeah, I think you're right. [ And because he couldn't just leave a serious moment alone, he adds: ] We are pretty badass.
（ she says that approvingly. perhaps a little proudly. because she has earned that designation — badass. not by being thanos' daughter, or a murderer reviled and feared across the galaxy. but by saving it. the people in it. against all odds, time and time again — until those odds tipped in the favour of another.
she likes the word. it's very... human. ）
Being poorbutt has its advantages.
（ ... yes, this is actually how she trolls him. with love. ）
Peter's smile is wide and almost dopey when he stretches with his free hand for where he'd left his zune with the rest of his gear.
(Like hell was he ever gonna leave it behind on the station.)
He passes one of the earbuds to Gamora now so they can share in the experience while he clicks the control button for the right song. Something calming, something even a little sweet ... maybe a little melancholic. Jim Croce's Time in a Bottle comes up and he hits play. ]
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no subject
Date: 2023-07-26 03:59 am (UTC)the wooskull makes a soft warbling call of the first syllable of its name, and finally decides that it can slip under her arm, nesting on quill's lap and half against her. she sighs faintly, but doesn't try to dislodge it. it's just a baby, after all. ）
I don't mind losing a little peace so others can know it too.
（ she only had so much time, to undo all of what she did under thanos. what right would she even have to such grace as that? peace is a word for other people, other places, other times. not even resurrection can be restful.
she studies the wooskull as it drifts off to sleep, red eyes blinking closed in the soft light. when she changes tacks, her voice is thoughtful and soft. ）
Peter. Do you believe the others here to be trustworthy?
（ she is... undecided. but the majority of them are human, and human are still his people. perhaps he will have better insights than she. ）
no subject
Date: 2023-07-26 04:12 am (UTC)[ It's his voice that's gone a little quiet this time, his free hand reaching out to gently pat the wooskull that's come to join them. It's weird but honestly kinda nice to be surrounded by the little critters that seem to have taken to them immediately, and the coziness of this tent and Gamora ... right now it feels like some kind of freakin' dream.
The kind of dream that he doesn't want to shatter with ideas of killing people, honestly.
But. ]
Hm? You mean the people of this world? Or the people we came here with? 'Cause I can't really speak on the people of this world ... except to hope that they're mostly okay. And as for the rest of the Ximilia crew ...
[ He frowns. ]
Did you know that I was here once? Not like, here here but ... apparently I did this whole thing before — for a little while, at least.
no subject
Date: 2023-07-26 04:21 am (UTC)（ the word has a connotation to both of them that goes beyond its native meaning. her nose crinkles briefly as she considers how it sounds, not entirely certain she likes it. ）
I saw. I suppose it makes sense. An infinite number of universes...
（ she trails off. mean gamora, he'd said — and they hadn't really taken it upon themselves to discuss exactly what he'd meant by that in any real depth. but she can guess.
why should the same principles not apply here? some other peter jason quill, from some other place and some other time. it's funny, perhaps, that she can see a million ways she could have never come to exist, or had died with the people of her planet, but somehow, inexorably, whatever she imagines there is always a starlord. ）
no subject
Date: 2023-07-26 04:36 am (UTC)[ He can't help but think of the other Gamora again too; just for a moment, to remember how different she was from the one resting against his side right now, his arm around her, the dark and pink curls of her long hair fanning out across his chest. The gesture is so small and seemingly so mundane, but it's a mark of closeness, of trust, of the mutual love shared between them — it's unquestionable now.
If Gamora could be so different, shaped by her experiences with the Guardians ... could the same be said of him too? He hadn't asked any specifics about when he'd come in from, and what he knew, but was there a chance he could have been a real dick?
Or was he more or less the same? ]
Anyway ... I guess what I was trying to say is that a lot of 'em seemed to know who I was. Some of them even said we were friends. And if it really was me, and if I really was friends with some of these guys ... they couldn't be all bad, right?
The guy who made that first post, Newt, seemed like a cool guy.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 01:18 am (UTC)she studies his hand where it's draped across her hip. the rough callouses, the little scars that have gone silver with age. is he near the middle of his life? she has never thought to ask. ）
I — he seemed... enthusiastic.
（ he reminded her almost of the collector. not quite uncomfortably so, but enough she can draw the comparison.
but he did apologize to her after his misstep, no matter that she ignored it. that matters. ）
But if some version of you was friends with him, I suppose that is testimonial enough.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 02:04 am (UTC)Yeah? I mean, I'd like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character.
[ He huffs a quiet laugh at the joke at his own expense. The kind of guys he hangs out with, the ones he'd been raised by ... he can judge a scumbag from a non-scumbag most of the time, but he hadn't exactly been surrounded by honest, wholesome individuals either.
And the Guardians ... well, he picked the right ones to hang out with, to align his own destiny with. That's gotta count for something, right? ]
Or at least I learned it pretty quick.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 02:21 am (UTC)（ somehow, it's not an insult the way she frames it. perhaps that's due to the fact she follows it up with — ）
But you make people want to be better. So... perhaps that is the case with this Newt.
（ she takes his hand in hers. twines their fingers together. sometimes, the frailty here astounds her. she could break him with a touch, now that he is only mortal.
she would die first. ）
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 02:50 am (UTC)He brings their joined hands up to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the top of her hand; brushes them across her knuckles. This hand could punch the hell out of a grown man and they'd thank her for it, but it's capable of this kind of gentleness too. He thinks of the way they've held hands on so many occasions, of how she'd pick Groot up when he'd still been barely more than a twig, of how she would pluck the debris from Rocket's fur after a messy mission ...
Man, he wishes this moment would literally last forever. He'd give almost anything to make it so, even if that isn't at all realistic. Even after they're done here, will they go home and recall these memories? Or would they go away, fading out like the end of a song? ]
Do you think we could do it? Get all the orbs and undo our regrets?
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 02:58 am (UTC)how are the orbs any different, truly?
thanos would rip the universe apart just to have a power like that.
(she does not delude herself by thinking he might have regretted throwing her to her death. a daughter's hope, weighted against a warrior's cynicism cannot possibly win.)
she gently pulls her other hand away from where her little wooskull has fallen asleep against her, and uses it to envelop peter's between her two. ）
I think... that if anyone could, it would certainly be the Guardians of the Galaxy.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 03:17 am (UTC)His voice is soft when he speaks, studying the way her hands enfold his like it's some marvel to be treasured. ]
Yeah, I think you're right. [ And because he couldn't just leave a serious moment alone, he adds: ] We are pretty badass.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 03:22 am (UTC)（ she says that approvingly. perhaps a little proudly. because she has earned that designation — badass. not by being thanos' daughter, or a murderer reviled and feared across the galaxy. but by saving it. the people in it. against all odds, time and time again — until those odds tipped in the favour of another.
she likes the word. it's very... human. ）
Being poorbutt has its advantages.
（ ... yes, this is actually how she trolls him. with love. ）
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 03:52 am (UTC)[ Ugh, he loves her so much, it's almost stupid.
Peter's smile is wide and almost dopey when he stretches with his free hand for where he'd left his zune with the rest of his gear.
(Like hell was he ever gonna leave it behind on the station.)
He passes one of the earbuds to Gamora now so they can share in the experience while he clicks the control button for the right song. Something calming, something even a little sweet ... maybe a little melancholic. Jim Croce's Time in a Bottle comes up and he hits play. ]