GotG belongs to marvel, I am only borrowing for entertainment purposes
Chapter title is from "Don't Let the neighborhood Hear" by Oh Wonder
.
Chapter 22: Don't let the Neighborhood Hear
.
Peter sighed and leaned his weight onto his palms on the table top, resisting the urge to just flop face down on it. "If I'd known there'd be so many meetings, I'd have just let Ronan take me. I'm starting to think being tortured to death by Thanos would be more fun. It'd be quicker at least."
"I am Groot!"
"I'll joke about whatever I want," Peter griped back. "If I have to sit through one more meeting my brain will melt from my ears."
Drax opened his mouth and Peter immediately held up one hand to point at him before he could speak.
"DON'T. Don't say it."
From Drax's other side, Mantis slowly leaned into view. Her inky black hair cascaded like a waterfall, the ends curling where they touched the table top from how far she was bent over to see him past Drax's imposing form. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she stated, "You are standing up, Peter, not sitting," through a dazzling smile.
"I am Groot," Groot added, in a know-it-all tone, as if the talking tree knew anything about a human brain's capacity to liquify.
"I hope Yondu makes you both scrub toilets while we're gone," Peter hissed, straightening up when Marlowe finally walked through the door, along with Dey and several high ranking corpsmen. The sooner this started, the sooner it ended and they could be on their way to the action part.
"Before we begin," she placed a pair of small containers and a bundle of brushes down on the table once she reached the head of the meeting. "Saal has granted his approval to send Gamora down as long as she can be made to look inconspicuous enough. It seems he agrees the benefit of her skill and inside knowledge outweighs the risk. Don't expect the rest of us to blow our own cover if you get caught, though. If you are somehow discovered, we will proceed as if you have come alone, and allow you to deal with the consequences as such. Is this agreeable?"
"Yes." Gamora answered before Peter could say anything.
"Good." With a flick of her wrist, Marlow slid the jars and bundle of brushes across to Drax. "Cosmo sent these stains along for you to use. He cautioned that they may take some time to set, so Drax and Gamora may be excused from this meeting to begin preparing your proposed disguise. You can be filled in by your crew later."
Drax grunted and scooped the small pile of supplies from the table, then began back towards the door. Gamora thanked Marlowe and followed after.
"I would like to go as well. I'm sure I can help," Mantis offered brightly.
"That's fine," Marlowe nodded at one of the lower ranked corpsmen standing by the doorway. "Go ahead and escort them back, Corpsman Gray."
Peter brightened and stepped back from the table, "I think I should help, too-"
"No." A hand grabbed the back of his jacket and Nebula yanked him roughly back to his spot. "You stay here."
"Fine," he sighed as he watched the group leave without him. It was worth a shot.
The meeting was every bit as pointless and boring as he had feared. For the most part it was really just Marlowe rehashing the proposals from the previous meeting and giving Saal's approval or amendments for certain aspects of the plan. They went over the order of the Corpsmen joining, depending on how many spots there were to fill, and some stuff about the atmosphere of the planet that Peter listened to half-heartedly while tapping the toe of his boot to keep himself from just drifting off. That was all mostly NOVA stuff that didn't have much to do with his crew's part of the plan.
Finally they moved on to new stuff. "You will be taking the accessory vessel Vox for the ambush." A small hologram of an imposing and modern-looking vessel lit up over the table. "It has covert capabilities that will make it easier to sneak close to your target and to escape the area undetected. Denarian Raff will be your pilot."
A short Krylorian woman with pale jade eyes waved one hand to the assembled crew in acknowledgment.
Peter didn't think she'd been at the previous meeting. Her pretty eyes and attractive features were the kind of thing he would have noticed and remembered.
"The Vox has somewhat limited jump capabilities, however, so you will be leaving shortly to ensure you arrive in time to catch the Parmark. Remember, although it's likely Thanos knows at least a small faction remains after our participation in the battle on Traxxon III, it's imperative that Thanos does not discover the location of the NOVA Corps or the extent to which we have reformed until we know what we're dealing with. Ideally, we should be keeping our heads low and hoping to build the impression that that fleet is all there is. So I will stress this again; Do NOT get caught."
Her gaze swept across the assembly and seemed to hesitate when she met Peter's gaze, boring into him like she meant that last part for him especially. It only lasted a moment and then she was addressing the entire table again. Her eyes moved on to the gathering of crewman who would be going down, settling on Roshan.
"And if you are discovered," she hesitated here for just the briefest moment, a look of agony and regret flickering across her eyes before it was pushed down. "You take the fall as a lone rebel group. It's not just your lives, or the lives of the prisoners at stake. If the NOVA Corps' location is discovered too early, we all die. Everyone we would have saved, and any difference we could have made in the war against Thanos, dies with us."
The NOVA soldiers nodded in unison, not one hesitation in accepting the order. A young woman behind Roshan gave Marlow an encouraging smile that Peter swore almost looked like forgiveness, too. Peter used to daydream sometimes of being a soldier when he was a kid. Having heroic adventures like Captain America in his comic books. He couldn't ever imagine being one now. To have to take an order like that, or worse, give it.
"Raff and your flight crew will be doing the final checks once this meeting is complete. Please take this time to rest and eat and assemble on the Vox by the end of the usual lunch break, it should be ready to take flight by then." She gave a dismissive and somewhat awkward wave and the assembled corpsmen began to filter out the door.
Yes! Freedom! Peter rocked back on his heels as he waited for the door traffic to clear.
"Is there anything else your team needs before you leave?"
Peter turned to find Dey had joined him and the remaining Guardians.
"Sorry you weren't asked earlier, I've been busy with helping Marlowe coordinate all of this in such a crunch time."
"I think we're fine. Speaking of, is everything okay? Marlowe seems... angrier than I remember?" At least she was a little more short-tempered with him, but maybe she was still a bit cross about Saal almost being mauled under Peter's watch.
Dey gave a laugh. "Don't take it personally. It's not about you or your crew. She's not much for public speaking. And she's had a lot on her shoulders lately. It's easy to forget, with how much we all rely on her, but she's just a kid. At her age I was barely out of the academy, and still running drills in junk trainers because I hadn't earned my own yet."
"Can you not train other soldiers to do the work?"
"We try. A few of her original tasks have been delegated out entirely, and I take on as much as I can. I spent some time on planet duty when my daughter was young so I could be close to home, so I have more office training and hours than most of the survivors left now combined. Just about everyone with the talent and love of paperwork and administrating was on the ground, though. The only reason Marlowe was in the air with us that day was her cousin."
"Cousin?"
Dey took a long breath through his nose and glanced around like he was making sure none of the other corpsmen could hear. They were almost entirely alone now. "Yeah. She's got a big family." He paused and seemed to realize what he had said. "She had a big family, I mean, and most of them were in the Nova Corps in some capacity. One of her kid cousins that was enlisted in the flight crew on Xandar was feeling a bit sick that day. She wasn't going to take the day off but Marlowe insisted. The two were really close. Practically sisters. Marlowe convinced Prime Irani to let her take over flight duty for the day and sent her cousin home. When Ronan touched down..."
Dey trailed off like he couldn't quite say the next part.
"Her cousin burned..." Peter filled in, the worm of guilt that seemed to have built a home in his ribcage in this strange universe stirred. He hadn't been there to stop him.
Dey nodded. "Yes, while Marlowe was in the air, safe in her cousin's ship. To be honest, it's a blessing the Prime's own assistant, survived. We'd be lost without her. I don't know if we'd have been able to track down the Starburst fast enough if she hadn't been the one to send it out on the test flight and memorized the flight path. It's Practically a miracle to us but... no to her. It's a heavy amount of survivor's guilt to be living under."
Peter winced at the thought of how much he would regret a decision that led to the death of someone he loved in exchange for his own survival. He shoved down fleeting images of frost forming across blue skin and the feeling of muscles freezing solid in his desperate grip, the smell of branches burning up in the atmosphere. "Oh."
"This mission means a lot to her. I doubt the council would have approved it if she hadn't been pushing so hard to make it happen. The chance to save anyone at all is enough, but she had family on several outposts. We've all been working under the assumption that everyone on the destroyed posts were eliminated but..."
"But she could have family down there, too," Peter finished. Or at least a shot at some redemption, or relief from guilt. Her own investment in this mission, which seemed to go beyond just enamoring the crew of the Star-burst to the presence of the Guardians, and how easily she had caved to allow Gamora down in search of her own missing family, suddenly made a little more sense.
-x-
Dey escorted them back to the room once the rest of the soldiers had vanished off to their own devices.
He stopped at the doorway to offer a quick goodbye. "I'll come back for those of you going to Villam once we're ready to board the Vox. Shouldn't be long, so make sure to be ready to go." With a small nod of his head, he left them. Down the hallway, corpsman Lan was once again leaning against the wall, looking half-asleep.
Once the Denarian had taken his leave, Peter opened the door to the room and he and the rest of the Guardians spilled in.
Across the room, Gamora was sitting on one of the bunks. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and she had removed the top to her Ravager uniform, leaving just an undershirt that left her arms bare. The arm Peter could see already had a network of fine swirling designs running from her wrist to her shoulder.
Drax was sitting in front of her, on one of the chairs from the table that had been dragged over. He was leaning forward to carefully paint a swirl over one of her eyebrows.
Mantis was perched neatly on the bunk next to Gamora, one of the containers of paint held in her hand with the lid unscrewed, and a little mirror set next to her.
"That's looking pretty good," Peter commented as he made for the kitchen to grab some water.
"How was the meeting?" Mantis asked curiously.
"I am Groot." Groot offered her a smile as he joined Peter in the kitchen area and pulled out a cup for some water himself.
"Yeah," Peter agreed. "Long and boring."
"I am Groot!"
"That's basically what you said."
While Groot frowned at him in disapproval, a thump caught his attention and Peter turned around to see Rocket was now standing on the table and scrutinizing the designs on Gamora's skin through narrowed eyes. His head tilted in deep concentration as he puzzled over something, and then a spark of recognition flashed across his face and he abruptly let out a deep laugh.
Through his cackles he gasped out, "Oh! I was wrong about you, Drax. You's got a sense a humor after all!"
Gamora went rigid.
"You can read that?" Peter asked, a nervous pit in his stomach. He didn't remember his Rocket ever mentioning he could understand the designs in Drax's skin. Maybe this Rocket was just pranking them. Stirring up trouble. Now was really not the right time for that. Gamora was already on edge, and whatever this was couldn't be helping.
Rocket's booming laughter settled down to a less ear-splitting level as he chuckled out "Not much, but enough to know Gam's can't understand a lick of it, or else she'd never let him paint that across her face." The raccoon took another look at the designs and fell back into laughing at whatever joke he was finding in the situation, one arm clutching his stomach and the other slapping at his knee as he doubled over.
At this point Drax broke as well. His look of concentration crumpled as he tossed his own head back to join in Rocket's laughter.
Mantis seemed to shrink back, her eyes grew huge as she glanced back and forth between Drax and Gamora.
The pit of unease in Peter's stomach grew sharper.
Gamora stood, towering over the laughing maniac for a moment with her hands held in tight fists. "Why are you doing this at all if you can't take it seriously!?" she demanded.
Mantis leaped up with a squeak as Gamora ripped the sheet from the bunk, wiping the bulk of the paint from her face before tossing the stained sheet to the floor and turning to stomp into the bathroom where she slammed the door behind herself.
Peter was stunned silent for a moment. The only sounds in the room were Drax and Rocket's laughter which was beginning to trail off, and the muffled noise of cursing and running water from behind the thick door. He could hardly hear any of it from the rushing in his ears. Once he felt he could move again, Peter slammed his cup of water back down onto the counter and stepped forward to address Drax.
"DUDE!" he shouted, throwing his arms out in a dramatic gesture. "WHY!?" Drax of all people should be taking this seriously right now. It was his d'asted planet they were headed down to! His people they were trying to help! So what the hell just happened?
The maniac wrinkled his nose and rose to his feet, clipping Peter roughly with his shoulder as he passed to wash the brush off in the sink.
"It has not set in yet. It will wash off. No one but my people would know what it meant anyways, and it's obvious enough she's not one of us."
"You've been moping around all serious faced since Traxxon III and now -now- is when you decide to regrow a sense of humor. To pull a prank? Like this!?" Peter waved his hands again, not sure what to do with them but unable to hold them still. "Minutes to midnight on a trip down to your imprisoned homeworld to find out if her parents are even alive?"
Drax's eyes narrowed but before he could make a correction of the real time, Peter rolled on.
"Half the team is staying behind. You're only going to have me, Rocket and Gamora down there-"
"-Leave me outta this." Rocket cut in, blunt as a hammer. "I ain't playin' buddy-buddy with you jackasses down there neither."
"Fine! You only have me and Gamora, so why are you trying to piss off half your support before we even get there?"
Drax tilted his head to regard Peter in silence, his expression changing ever so slightly. Just a subtle slide from a one-dimensional annoyance to something a little shrewder, a little more thoughtful. The muscles in his neck bulged as he worked his jaw before finally speaking.
"You were distracted on Ego's planet. You are still distracted by your emotions. If you would spend any time with her, you would know that she has not recovered from what occurred on Knowhere. You are asking us to trust someone who has made it clear her loyalties are to someone else, people she does not know even exist. Her allegiance is not to you, or us, and her mind is so fractured she can't even rely on it herself. She shouldn't be coming down at all, but it's not my people who will be paying the price if she is caught, so you can do as you like."
"She won't betray us."
"She can't," Drax agreed. "Not again. She is not claiming to be loyal to us, and has made it very clear her only goal is to find her own people."
Peter felt his hands balling into fists. "You haven't even given her a chance-"
"I gave her a chance, against my own judgement, and nearly ended up back in Sakaar because of it. I don't intend to be fooled twice. I am helping YOU Peter," he stepped forward and jabbed one finger into Peter's chest, "in exchange for your help completing my revenge against Ronan. And I am helping my people, if I can. I am not interested in helping Gamora beyond what is necessary to achieve my own goals. I have never claimed to be. All I care about is ending Ronan's life, and she is proving to be a distraction."
"So that's why you've been in such a shitty mood since Traxxon III!?" Peter shouted, slapping away the finger that was still pressing into his collar bone. "Because you ran off alone and Ronan kicked your sorry ass and you're blaming US for it?! I told you to wait by the ship! To stay with us! Things went to shit for everyone, in case you didn't notice! And your stupid act nearly got the rest of us killed, and almost lost us Rocket! But you don't see me moping around bitching to you about how you can't do one gods-d'asted thing I ask you to do!"
Drax's nostrils flared as he glared down at Peter, looking the most hostile he had since their first meeting on Sakaar.
"Suck it up! Like it or not, the team needs you for this. You don't get to just screw us all over because your pouting about losing one fight! How are you ever going to got your revenge if we all die here because you can't play well with others for five minutes!?"
A small voice of reason piped up, informing Peter he was likely about to meet Drax's very formidable fists, which were much larger than the captain's that had already nearly flattened him earlier, but pride and fury washed it aside.
A massive hand grabbed the shoulder of his t-shirt, twisting the material and lifting up just enough to make Peter stand up on the balls of his feet, so that they could meet eyes as Drax bent down.
Several dark thoughts seemed to flicker across his eyes before he calmed himself and growled out, "You are the one not taking this seriously if you want me to play with her."
"Ugh!" Peter ripped himself from the grasp and spun around stomp several steps in one direction, throw his hands up, and stomp back towards Drax.
He glared into the maniac's eyes for several beats, opening his mouth but nothing came out, before he spun around to the rest of the room. "A little HELP!?" he demanded, gesturing towards the unreasonable man behind him and searching the faces of his teammates for any direction.
"I am Groot."
"I KNOW-" Peter cut himself off, took a deep breath, like his own Gamora had taught him, and lowered his voice. The Corps still needed to believe they were a cohesive unit, not at eachother's throats every time Peter turned around. It was more than reasonable to assume the doorway was plenty solid, most were designed to hold for at least a little while if the main ship was compromised, but there was no need to test it by screaming at the top of his lungs. "I know he doesn't do metaphors."
"Then why do you keep using them to argue with him?" Nebula's voice was entirely pitiless as she stared him down from where she had taken a seat at the table on the far side from where her sister was. She was doing that thing where she somehow managed to stare down her nose at him from a lower vantage point which got under Peter's skin to no end. "You know it just derails the whole thing and wastes time."
"Now you're on his side?" Peter spat.
"No." She turned her glare on Drax. "If he's stupid enough to get you caught down there, then I say shoot him and dump his body before he gets you all captured or killed -I'm sure Rocket can do it if you can't- but I don't think he will. Drax knows as well as the rest of us what's at stake if we're caught. You are overreacting because my sister is involved. Like usual. You are the one who is likely to do something stupid and emotional down there." Her gaze moved to look at something behind his other shoulder, eyes hardening further. "I agree that she shouldn't be involved with this in the first place."
"Well, fortunately, it is not up to you, sister." Gamora had finished washing up and was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Wet strands of hair that were too short to tuck into her braid stuck to her damp face. She appeared to have regained her composure. Her face and voice were back to their usual cool demeanor. "I have no intention of turning any of you in, or getting caught and returned to Thanos myself."
"You won't have to do anything. Just being there is a gamble none of us should be taking. We don't know for sure who will be down there."
"I have to go. I have to see my parents myself."
"If they are even down there at all, then they've been fine there this whole time. As long as Thanos believes you are being held against your will somehow, there's no reason he should do anything to them. If he finds you crawling around down there instead of returned to his side, what do you think could happen?"
Gamora stiffened. "He won't ever touch them. Now is the best chance I may ever have. You've heard the reports, same as I have. His attentions are turned elsewhere. While he's busy, I'm going to get them out of there, and take them where he can never find them again."
"You're going down there to get yourself caught, and them killed. If he didn't already do that long ago."
"Why are you doing this?" Gamora asked, a hurt edge to her voice. "You're my sister. You were taken by Thanos, too. You know what it's like more than anyone else. You may be the only one who knows! Korath came to Thanos willingly, but we were taken. Why don't you understand why I have to do this?"
"The only thing I understand is why you shouldn't, and you would, too, if that dog hadn't done whatever he did inside your head. You've always been one step ahead of me, the shining beacon of what father wanted in a child, in a weapon. Someone cruel, ruthless and capable. My entire life has been wasted trying to keep up with you, and barely managing to survive. " A snort, dry and humorless. "I couldn't even manage that sometimes. Now, you can't even see the voice of reason. What a disappointment it has been, to find the worthless, blubbering mess you truely are. He did make you into a fine metaphor of a weapon, I suppose; You are useless without him to guide your every thought."
Peter felt his stomach drop. Somewhere in the room, Rocket was snickering, but Peter didn't dare take his eyes off of the sisters. He was currently standing between them, in the same spot he'd been since pleading for help against Drax. Nebula was making no move to get up from the chair she was in, and Gamora was still leaning stiffly against the doorframe to the bathroom across the room, but he knew very well how fast either one could spring into action.
"That's. Not. Fair."
"I'm not interested in being fair. Or nice. I'm interested in staying alive, and keeping that empty-headed idiot alive long enough to take out the Titan." She jabbed a finger towards Peter, not taking her eyes off her sister.
"Hey!" Every damned time. Why did it always come back to insulting him? He wasn't even a part of this!
"This isn't some mission outside the fold where no one has seen your face. It's not an assassination where the targets will all be dead in a matter of hours. It's a long-term stay on a prison planet, with high-value prisoners, no easy exits, and a planet which you have been to before."
"Do you think I don't realize all of that? I still know how to do my job."
"Do you? Because-"
"FINE!" Gamora finally stopped leaning on the doorframe, standing straight so she could throw her arms out before dropping them back down. "Fine! You are right, okay?! Is that what you want to hear? I am lost! My memories are all broken, or backwards, or sideways, or so tangled in eachother I don't even know what's real sometimes! But in every one, the only constant, the only thing I know for sure, is that I loved my parents, and I loved my sister."
Nebula's face screwed up, like a dog sneering just before a bite. "As someone who has been the beneficiary of your love since Thanos dragged you into my life, believe me when I tell you that the things you 'love' are much better off when you stay far, far away from them."
Gamora's eyes flashed with hurt and fury. "I tried! I tried so hard to keep you alive. I thought I was keeping you alive. I swear! I Just didn't want to lose you. I can't take back what happened. I can't make up for what I've done, I know that. Not just to you. I have done such unspeakable things, that I can never even hope to atone for, but this -I can do this. I can help them. And nothing in this universe is going to stop me. Not even you. So if you are so concerned about this mission then please, sister, -Nebula- stop fighting this, and help me."
Nebula narrowed her eyes, but while Gamora was struggling to keep a hold of her composure, the younger sister seemed to be in complete control. It was an odd reversal of the dynamic Peter was more accustomed to seeing. One that felt foreboding at best.
"You won't be helping anyone if you are caught-"
"We already covered all of this at the meetings." Peter spoke up, trying to diffuse whatever was building up before they had a repeat of their fights on the Milano and Ego's planet. Things were just spiraling now, circling back to the same argument they'd already had and winding tighter with every pass. Odds were good one of their tempers would snap eventually. "Gamora will be disguised among the other prisoners. No one will even notice."
Nebula finally released her sister's gaze to stare almost straight through Peter, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair until the front feet started to lift from the flooring. For a long moment everything was silent, and Peter dared to hope that she would listen to him and finally drop it. For now, at least.
The thunk of the chair's legs falling back to the floor echoed around the small room as she let it drop, so she could uncross her arms and lean forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared at her sister with glittering eyes that Peter couldn't read. "If I truly cannot stop you or the others from this stupidity, then let me offer you what help I can, as you wish, sister." Her voice and posture were steady and calm, but in the way that a snake is still the moment before it strikes. "Kylosians. Do not have. Red hair."
Peter was suddenly glad the sisters' weapons had not yet been returned. This way, he and Drax might be able to break apart any physical altercation before anything too hard to explain away to the Nova Corps happened.
The second Gamora moved, Nebula tensed, but instead of immediately approaching her sister, Gamora was stomping towards Drax who was still behind Peter in the kitchen area. She was at the maniac's side almost before Peter even realized she had left the doorway. Drax, too, seemed caught completely off-guard, his arms still crossed over his own chest as they had been while observing the two assassins argue.
"Give me this!" Gamora snapped, yanking one of the twin blades from his hip and spinning towards her sister without even breaking stride.
Peter scrambled to turn and throw his hands out to block her path. "WHOAH! HEY DON'T-"
The blade, freshly sharpened and oiled, flashed under the ship's lighting as she raised it and Peter couldn't help but flinch, his heart dropping all the way into the soles of his shoes. Panic filled his chest, and burning adrenaline rushed through his veins. But then the knife dipped behind her back and panic collided with confusion. Her other hand reached back simultaneously to grab her braid and in one quick jerk the blade sliced effortlessly through the assassin's hair.
She shoved past a very confused Peter, reaching the table at such speed her legs nearly collided into it before she could stop, and slammed the braid and the blade down in front of her sister with a bang that echoed around the room.
Peter winced and glanced at the door to the hall, hoping no Corpsman was about to poke their head in and see what the commotion was.
Gamora leaned her weight down onto her palms. Her fingers shook, but she met Nebula's gaze with a look of steeled conviction.
"I thank you for your counsel, sister. Is there anything else I can do, to ease your concerns?"
Nebula's mouth pressed into a thin line, glaring back for several beats before her eyes trailed down to the wad of hair held in her sister's fist against the table. The older assassin's knuckles were pale from her crushing grip. Finally she scoffed and looked away. She said nothing more.
End
Chapter 23 Preview: "All liberated prisoners are to hand over their clothing and return to the Corps for treatment."
"I do not require any form of treatment. I assure you, I am perfectly fit to continue as I am."
Even in the cheap lighting, Peter could see traces of a fading bruise on her temple that must have been fairly gnarly once upon a time, and smaller scrapes and bruises in various stages of healing up and down her arms. They appeared to all be superficial, but they did not paint a picture of an easy time wherever she had last been held..."
.
I'm hoping no one hates that I cut Gamora's hair. It's something I've had planned since nearly the beginning, when I saw that her comic book counterparts often had a particular short cut. A lot of this universe is comic-book inspired or references. For example: Drax being in the Grandmaster's games, Rocket's red eyes, the mind control on Gamora, and even Nebula getting along with the Ravagers so well, are all nods at the comics. And in the Astro-verse she didn't have any way to differentiate her alternate timeline selves physically like Drax with his shoulder scar and Rocket's muzzle clips, and his sliced ear and scar on his temple (Which are actually very plot important and will be explained. I promise. Eventually.). Groot is full-sized here, unlike 99% of his time with peter in his universe where he was regrowing, so I was counting that as his main difference.
Nebula and Gamora continue to get along about as well as two stray cats with an old grudge. Gamora is trying to reach out and make some sort of peace, but she's frankly just terrible at it, and keeps messing up. Nebula is not even trying. But can you blame either one?
Will the assassins ever learn to get along? Will Peter ever stop using metaphors then acting surprised when Drax doesn't get them? Will someone fix Gamora's hacked up hairdo? Will I ever pick a consistent update day? We can find out together. 23, "Shallow River" is already finished and should be posted in two weeks.
Thank you for coming along with me,
-OmaM