riverviewlogs | introductory mingle: CARNIVALE

[ That answer is, apparently, the right one, because that look on her face is practically pleased as she glances back to the platform, just as one of the trams pulls up. ]

It isn't far.

[ Not more than a couple minutes by tram (and at least transportation is convenient, she's realized since they arrived).

She steps onto the train, but turns back to him, brow raised. ]

Unless you haven't had enough of the party.

[ Gamora seems to be giving him all these outs, and it's only making him more curious. ]

Gamora, you're the one that asked me to go somewhere with you, and I said yes, didn't I?

[ He narrows his eyes at her, almost suspicious, but he steps onto the train after her, letting the doors slide shut behind him. ]

I'm starting to think you're having some second thoughts about extending that invitation.

[ Gamora offers a dismissive shrug as the speakers overhead give a soft chime, before the tram starts to move. The motion is smooth, but she still reaches out to steady herself on one of the provided loops hanging from the ceiling.. ]

Just because I'm not inclined to continue to spend time with so many people doesn't mean you've lost interest.

[ A small tilt of her head as she looks up at him, meeting that suspicion evenly. ]

You were having fun.

[ Peter reaches up, grabbing hold of a loop when the tram leaves the station. At her words, he shrugs both shoulders, looking out of the windows as the city zips past. ]

I was.

[ And, yeah, it's probably the best his mood has been since— everything. Since the mess with you know who. In the days after the shit went down, Peter fully admits he was just going through the motions, acting on autopilot, saying and doing the sort of shit he thought he should be doing, because they still had stuff to take care of and fires to put out and a whole lot of explaining to do with the Nova Corps.

Now, though— ending up in the Quarantine hasn't exactly wiped everything away, but the distance makes things easier. And Peter's problem has always been that running away is so much easier than confronting his issues head on, and getting whisked away to this place has certainly fed into that. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, he admits, but it's working.

And it helps, too, that Gamora is here. That he has that bit of home still with him. It'd help more if either one of them would just put on their brave faces and finally talk about what the hell the two of them are doing, but even Peter's not sure if he's ready for that, yet. So instead, they have this – and it's enough. ]

But I'm having fun with you, too.

[ And though the words are for Gamora, he sort of directs them to the window, instead. ]

[ The answer seems to give Gamora pause – but only briefly. She glances away to the floor of the tram, a brief smile flashing once across her lips. She's glad to hear it, even if she isn't inclined to admit that. But it's not only a matter of knowing that Peter has fun with her, but in general, given everything they'd found themselves yanked away from. They'd had so much ground to cover in the wake of Ego's mess, something she and Peter have yet to discuss at all, but— for now, she thinks it's enough to know that he's finding a way to bolster his mood and find comfort after being left adrift.

It isn't easy, for any of them, but...

At least this is something.

She doesn't say anything about it, but as the tram skirts across the city, she relaxes just enough to let the wait of her arm rest against Peter's as she keeps holding onto the overhead brace.

She seems content to stay that way until the tram pulls up at the right station outside of the gardens, and then she's finally pulling away to once again lead him off and out across the city. ]

Have you explored much since we've been here?

Edited (motherfucker grammar) 2017-07-24 00:48 (UTC)

[ She doesn't say anything, and if he's honest, Peter's a little disappointed in that. He kind of prefers the weight of the words spoken aloud, even if he knows Gamora prefers acting. And when she's quiet for a few seconds, he finds himself staring even more pointedly out of the window, the line of his jaw tight as he keeps his mouth shut.

But then her arm presses against his, and he blinks. It's deliberate, he knows, because Gamora is always careful about her positioning, is aware of where she places herself. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and some of the tension bleeds away.

He follows her once they've stopped, stepping out onto the platform of the station with his hands in his pockets. ]

Some.

[ Which is to say, he scoped out the night clubs and bars, and anywhere he could buy chocolate.

His priorities are slightly skewed; what can he say? ]

I can safely say I haven't seen the gardens, though.

I'm not surprised.

[ Her words are bland more than scornful; she knows where Peter would rather spend his time, and she doesn't fault him for that. She, however, finds value in the peace and quiet of the gardens. It gives her a place that's rarely overrun with people, and she can sit, clear her mind, and center herself. Neither the training space for the Guard nor the community housing is conducive for it, and considering that so much of the city seems wrapped up in the Carnivale party, finding quiet amidst the chaos is even more demanding.

But when they arrive, the gardens are still by comparison to the rest of the city. In the distance, she can hear the excitement and some of the distant music, but it's all muted by the serenity of the plants and trees surrounding them, and the soft light of the fading sun catches on a few vibrant leaves and petals. She recognizes very little of the plantlife itself, but that hasn't bothered her terribly; as long as they aren't poison, she doesn't pay it much mind. ]

Over here.

[ She doesn't physically try to lead Peter away, but just walks ahead of him, down a paved path and around a few flower beds. The foliage seems to get thicker the deeper they go, providing a more forested look to the area, until Gamora can direct him off the path itself and through the trees. ]

[ From this far away, the music blaring from the parties that cropped up around the city are little more than bursts of bass, the melodies lost with distance.

It's... pretty, here, and he admits that easily. Peaceful. Some of the flowers he recognizes from his time on Earth – orchids and lilies and roses – but the rest are as alien to him as anything had been when he was a kid. Beautiful, of course, and artfully arranged, and Peter takes a second to appreciate the quiet.

The air is still and humid, and Peter wipes at the back of his brow as sweat collects there. At Gamora's direction, he follows after her again, content to let her lead the way. She has a destination in mind, it seems, and he figures if he really had a mind to sightsee, he can always come back later. ]

Where are you taking me?

[ Gamora finally glances back at him, offering a light shrug. ]

Wouldn't you prefer to be surprised?

[ Which is absolutely a non-answer, but she's finally bringing him through the trees to a small clearing. It isn't large by any means, but it's edged with bundles of flowers that crawl along the ground, creeping up the trunks in clusters. They wind themselves along branches and in between leaves, though the way they bleed away from the trees makes it clear they're a separate plant, attached only by the circumstance of their growth.

Gamora stops in the center of the clearing, and gestures for Peter to stay put. ]

Stand there.

[ Though she's already wandering away, towards one of the trees. ]

[ Peter peers around at the trees, at the delicate white flowers wrapped around them. It's still pretty, of course, and he appreciates that. But he finds his attention is drawn more toward Gamora than to the plant life.

She's building up to something, he can tell, and as much as Peter likes a good show, he's always been pretty impatient. He moves to follow after her, but at her command, he heaves out a breath, almost pouting. He calls after her, ]

This is a seriously convoluted way for you to just ditch me, you know.

If I was ditching you, I guarantee you'd already know it, Peter.

[ She casts him another quick look, but stops beside a tree with a particularly large volume of the flowers. Another moment of pause, and then she reaches out, brushing her fingertips over a cluster of blossoms.

The effect is immediate.

The flowers start to glow with a ripple of light. It fans out across the neighboring petals, up along the length of the tree in a wave of colors, before fading out, like the stilling of a lake. The light disappears, and then she does it again – this time dragging her fingers up along the clusters, watching as the ripples of glowing light spread father up the tree, all the way to the tips of the branches and the outermost blooms, wave after wave of the luminescent color flowing across the tree.

She moves from one trunk to the next, lighting the flowers with a touch, until they're surrounded by the soft pulsing glow in the evening air, and then she finally turns back to Peter. ]

Well?

[ She steps back into the center of the clearing, tipping her head back to look at the glowing blossoms overhead, and the softest hint of a smile starts to spread across her lips. ]

[ Her reply just makes him huff out another put-upon sigh, but he puts his hands on his hips as he waits.

He's not disappointed, at least, and at the first brush of Gamora's hand across the petals, the sulky air he had put on falls away, replaced with open interest. Eventually, the entire area is lit up, and Peter tilts his head back to look up at the glowing canopy. ]

Whoa...

[ Breathed out. It's like something out of a fairy tale. A soft laugh escapes him, little more than a gentle huff of air. ]

It's...

[ He turns to look at her, sees that small smile curving her lips. Something warm curls in his chest at the sight, familiar and welcome, and he feels himself echoing her expression. ]

... beautiful.

[ She doesn't even seem to realize the soft, open delight on her face as she looks up at the glowing flowers, taking them in as the gentle pulses of light keep the flowers aglow. They seem to feed off of each other's renewal of the luminescence, catching on more ripples from the trees beside them, though it's slowly becoming dimmer.

The light of the glow around them lets her catch the turn of Peter's face, and she looks down to meet his eyes, cocking her head slightly at the way he's just looking at her.

She hasn't tamed her smile entirely, doesn't try to stow it away in the low light. ]

What?

[ Of course, it's meant more to be: "why are you looking at me like that?" ]

[ Another huff of a laugh, and he shakes his head a little. It's not such a terrible thing, he thinks, getting caught staring like this. And he doesn't turn away, memorizing the way the glow highlights the curve of her cheek, catches in the silver etched in her brow. ]

Nothing.

[ He lifts a shoulder in barely-there sort of shrug, and his smile widens a little, turns fond. ]

Just an unspoken thing.

[ That soft smile of hers doesn't disappear, and if anything, there's the gentlest crook to it.

Still that unspoken thing.

They haven't talked about it, not yet, and Gamora isn't certain if she's ready to (or even knows how best to start approaching it), but it's there, and she's more than willing to acknowledge that much. It's meaningful, no matter how out of her depth she feels, and maybe they'll have the chance to deal with it someday.

Maybe even sometime soon.

But for now? It can still be some unspoken thing.

She's not necessarily tentative about it, but she steps closer to Peter's side, reaching out to wind her arm around his waist as the gentle glow continues to pulse around them. ]

[ As she moves in, he lifts an arm, giving her a little more space. When she seems settled, he wraps his arm around her shoulder – just resting there, rather than pulling her in. If she wanted to be closer, she would have placed herself there to start, or she'll move in of her own accord.

They'll talk it through, one of these days. Just— there hasn't been a good time, he reasons. After the mess, after winding up here, with the two of them still trying to find their footing in this new place, it's not like he could throw, "Hey, you wanna be, like, an item?" into the mix in good conscience.

So this is fine, he thinks. Gamora, warm against his side, comfortable and at ease. He wants more, because Peter is selfish and greedy even at the best of times. He wishes Gamora would say something, whenever he makes those little overtures, but he's trying to temper his disappointment when she doesn't. He's trying to learn patience, too, trying to learn how to bide his time and wait for the right moment.

It's gotta be a good sign that she's not avoiding him; something must be working.

His looks up at the trees again, the glow of the flowers fading and fading. It reminds Peter a little of those glow in the dark stars he used to put on his bedroom ceiling, and he feels his smile widen a little with that faint bloom of nostalgia. ]

Thanks for bringing me here.

[ Something in her warms as she settles against Peter, allowing his arm around her without a hint of protest. She's become far more comfortable with physical contact (in the right moments, with the right people), and she doesn't even tense with the expectation of a fight, doesn't prepare to defend herself, because in a twist of fate that still startles her, Peter doesn't inspire the instinct in her. At least, not anymore. She doesn't feel like she has to prepare herself to throw him to the ground at a moment's notice, and she thinks that means that she— feels safe.

What a strange turn her life has taken.

She tilts her face towards him for a brief instant, letting her nose press lightly against his chest, and then she turns her eyes skyward to enjoy the last of the flowers' light. ]

Thank you for coming with me.

[ Gamora doesn't necessarily do blatant gratitude, considering "pleases" and "thank yous" are not high on her list of priorities, but she finds she genuinely means "thank you" now. He took this time to step away from an event he was clearly enjoying, and he's chosen to spend it with her instead.

That means something to her. ]

introductory mingle: CARNIVALE

are u tryin to say ur not a nerd

i don't appreciate name calling!!

but u know i love you :c

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