riverviewlogs | you get the gray skies outta my way

Entry tags:

you get the gray skies outta my way

who: Mantis (and yoooou)
what: Catch-All~
when: The month of August
where: All abouts
warnings: Almost without a doubt there will be spoilers for Guardians Vol. 2 in this post. You have been warned.

[Closed to Peter Quill]
[Mantis, after recovering the necessary iron from the room of laundry, paces in front of the elevator, awaiting the arrival of her 'instructor'. She is not sure why she is nervous, but she is that, in addition to the general excitement she has retained at the idea of learning more new skills.

Someone, likely one of her floor-neighbors, walks by and Mantis offers an explanation they didn't ask for.] I am going to learn to sew and to iron.

[Very important stuff.]

[Closed to Gamora]
[Mantis is not really sure what to expect or if this will end well.

On the other hand, she knows she probably needs this. It is important to learn to take care of herself. She does not always want to rely on others to protect her. Her powers are helpful, of course, but they are not enough. Mantis has seen Gamora fight, and she knows how proficient she is, so if anyone is capable of teaching Mantis to do this, it is her. She follows Gamora along the street, wondering where they were going, but staying silent for the moment. The last thing she wishes to do is annoy her 'teacher' on the first day.]

[OPEN to anyone - all around wildcard]
[Feel free to spot Mantis anywhere in the city. Places you are more likely to find her include the following:

Wandering the streets looking for the portal, on her perimeter orientation squad grind.

Checking out 616!Loki's club

In the toy section of a second-hand store. Or any section.

Anywhere else your heart desires.

Feel free to poke me with questions/ideas if you so desire, or just throw something at me, I'm sure it's fine.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ So it’s not as though Peter is the domestic type – living with the Ravagers made damn sure of that – but he’s learned enough for the basics. Mom taught him how to thread a needle, how to work an iron, so he could put patches on his backpack and jackets. And the Ravager tailor showed him a handful of techniques that Peter’s just barely retained. (When he was younger, the Ravagers thought maybe his smaller hands would make him more dexterous, more capable of the fine stitching the tailor employed.

They were half-right. Unfortunately for them, they forgot to take into account Peter’s complete lack of patience.)

But one purchased sewing kit and a giant, mounting sense of dread later, Peter returns to the community housing building, riding the elevator up to floor nine. It’s been years, possibly decades, since Peter’s been anywhere near a needle and thread – unless you count the old-fashioned stitches he sometimes got when jobs went pear-shaped. This lesson is going to be a whole lot of trial and error and pricked fingers and wounded pride, he figures. He fidgets with the kit, tossing it up into the air from one hand to the other, and when the elevator dings, announcing his arrival to the ninth floor, he steps out.

Predictably, he nearly walks straight into Mantis – nearly being the operative word. Instead, he lets out a startled noise, dancing back a step or two before they can collide. ]

Dude. [ He breathes it out on a laugh, at least, pressing a hand to his chest. ] You scared the hell out of me.

[In comparison, Mantis knows very little about how any of this works. Her uniform, provided to her by Ego from the time she was big enough to walk, had been fairly durable. When it did break, Ego had simply provided her with a duplicate. If she outgrew it, she would get a new one in the proper size.

But it has been a long time since that happened.

In any case, there had been no irons, and no sewing kits around, so the concept was entirely...alien.

Mantis jumps too when the elevator dings open and Peter comes close to running right into her. She fumbles with the iron, and nearly drops it.]

Oh! I am sorry! Can you get it back?

What?

[ It’s the first thing out of his mouth at her question, but— no. He knows what she said, even if it takes his brain a second or two to catch up with the words. ]

I— no. It’s just an expression.

[ He glances at the iron in her hands, just barely caught before she drops it, and he frowns. ]

Have you... been waiting out here all this time?

[Oh. She really needs to get better at picking those out. It is hard for her not to take everything literally.]

I did not want to miss you.

[It made sense to her at the time, anyway. Mantis spins enough to gesture behind her, toward the community area of the 9th floor, as well as toward where the rooms are located.] My room is this way. It has a desk.

[She assumes they will need some kind of work surface.]

[ That feels like something of a non sequitur, the desk thing – like, he kind of wonders if that's just a thing she's been working into normal conversations – until he realizes that, yeah, they sort of need something flat to work on. They'll just need to put something down, probably, to make sure they don't wreck the surface of the desk. ]

That oughta work.

[ ... Maybe? Peter doesn't really know. It's not like he irons all that often – as evidenced by the slightly wrinkled state of his shirt. ]

You like it up here?

It is not bad. My room is quiet. I am learning to decorate.

[As is made evident when she opens her door, and reveals some of her more recent acquisitions lined up on a couple of empty bookshelves. ]

Some of the group gathering areas can become crowded. [But she doesn't mind that too much.]

[ He steps in, and somehow, he's not at all surprised by all of the color. He breathes out a laugh, glancing around the room. ]

I like what you've done with the place.

[ He glances up, catches sight of the little disco ball lamp, and he feels a grin split his face. ]

Oh man, I haven't seen one of those things in years.

Thank you

[She is pleased with it herself, and her thanks has not a hint of irony. Her smile appears, and grows significantly wider, when Peter notices her most favorite new possession.]

I have been told it is a disco ball. It reminds me of the bubbles on Ego.

[And that is precisely what drew her to purchase the ball of glowing colored lights. A disconnected piece of a home she can no longer see.]

[ Maybe to someone else, the way the smile seems to freeze on his face might be funny. And, yeah, it's a little comical, the way Peter seems to just.

Stop.

His gaze darts away from the lamp soon after that, and his grin fades to a forced, tight-lipped sort of smile. ]

It's cute.

[ And the lightness in his voice is forced, too, but he tries. Because Jesus, he is not going to foist all his issues on Mantis right now. Not when he's been doing his best to bury them down, down, down so he can pretend he's forgotten about the mess entirely. ]

So, uh. [ He rolls his shoulders. ] That patch?

[Mantis is sometimes oblivious, but she is not so blind as to miss the freeze. Her brow furrows in confusion, and she scrambles to find the patch that she was given when she was 'hired'. It is somewhere under the pile of blankets on the bed that she has taken to cocooning in when the air conditioning is too cold.

As she digs it occurs to her what she has said wrong.

When she finds the patch, and holds it out to him, (not really aware that she is still wearing the item of clothing that the patch needs to go on, and why that may be a problem) Mantis cannot keep herself from apologizing softly.] I am sorry, Peter. I was not thinking.

[Her next words are even softer, but still she has been meaning to say them almost for as long as she has known Peter, and they are important words, even if she can't quite meet his eye when she says them.] I am sorry for everything...

[ He takes the patch, turning it over in his hands for a second to examine the back. It looks like it might be a sew-on? Which is kind of the nightmare scenario, considering Peter barely remembers how to thread a needle, much less sew.

His gaze darts up to her face when she apologizes, and his face falls.

Crap.

He ducks down a little, trying to catch her eye. ]

Whoa, whoa, hey, dude, we're cool. What are you saying sorry for?

[Peter sounds concerned enough that Mantis finally meets his eye but she is still pouting just a little bit.]

I am sorry to say something that reminds you of unhappy things...

[She's learning, slowly, that there is a fine line between polite and rude. Her understanding of social interaction has grown by leaps and bounds, but it is still a hard thing to grasp, especially when she has been so eager to be more social.

But that's not all she's sorry for, is it? This is harder to say. She fidgets, her gaze shifting restlessly from Peter, to the disco ball, to the iron, and back to Peter.]

...I am also sorry for being part of them.

[ He winces at that, quietly hissing in a breath between his teeth. ]

Hey, no, that’s— it’s fine. That was on me. You’re fine, okay? That wasn’t—

[ But she seems to have more to say as she fidgets, as she avoids his gaze, and he cuts himself. Mantis is working up to something, and even as impatient as he is, he knows sometimes people need a second to gather up their thoughts, to figure out what they want to say.

And— well. She says that, and his expression falls around the edges again. Still worried, because he doesn’t know where this is going, but he looks cautious, too. He’s getting the distinct impression that he isn’t going to like this turn of conversation, isn’t going to like whatever it is Mantis is building up to. There’s a touch of wariness in his eyes as he studies her.

(That thought rises unbidden at the back of his mind: She was in on it the whole time.

But that’s not fair. He knows it’s not fair. And he wants to kick himself for even thinking it.)

He swallows, gaze flicking away to one of the brightly colored trinkets on her shelf. ]

Mantis. We’re fine. [ A little insistently, because the part of him that prefers running from his problems wants to let this topic lie, wants to shove all those questions under a rug so he can pretend they’re not there. ] You don’t have to apologize.

[Mantis would like very much to believe Peter. She is just not sure that she does.

This feeling of skepticism is, overall, pretty new to her, and she isn't sure what to do with it besides make a face. She does feel somewhat reassured, or at least comforted that he seems to be kind enough not to make her feel any worse about what happened.

But she felt his heart, once, and she thinks sometimes Peter is too kind, and she does not want him to spare her feelings. ...Not when she feels already an endless sea of guilt that it took her so long as it did to finally stand up to Ego. Even knowing practically that without the other guardians he would have crushed her as easily as he did all the others. She should have done something.

But of course, she does not say any of that. Instead, she tries and fails to give Peter a small smile (she is not very good at lying, even on her face).]

If you are sure... [Peter might think she is done, but she is not. Sorry.]

But I wanted to say sorry. I feel... bad. I made very bad choices. I wanted you to know that I know that I did, and that it is okay if you wish you talk about it. It is also okay if you wish to yell at me...

[She has noticed sometimes it makes people feel better to shout at things.]

[ When she seems to leave the topic alone, Peter lets out a sigh of relief.

But, nope, she raised his hopes and dashed them quite expertly, and when she presses on, he winces all over again. For a long while, he's quiet, looking down at his hands as he fidgets with Mantis' patch. ]

... I'm not gonna yell at you, Mantis.

[ That, at least, he says with certainty.

Because really, Peter's just— tired. After everything that happened, after the whole, giant mess, Peter's angry and confused and hurt, and a small part of him wants to lash out and shout at the top of his lungs as some kind of outlet for that knotted mess of emotions writhing in his gut, but mostly he's just exhausted. And, yeah, his mind has been buzzing with unanswered questions, with a lot of what-ifs and whys.

But he's tired. Too tired to take it out on anyone, Mantis especially. And for a second, it shows with the way his shoulders fall, with the way his expression sort of crumples around the edges.

He scrubs at his face, covers his eyes for a second as he takes a deep breath. ]

Here's the thing. [ Quietly, slowly, as he chooses his words with care. ] I don't— I don't actually think you had a choice, did you? I think... you were forced to do a lot of that stuff. I think you had to do as you were told, or something might happen.

[ (Logically, he knows it isn't Mantis' fault, whatever it was that Ego made her do. Emotionally, though, the thought of Mantis having a hand in manipulating his half-siblings, in helping with Ego's plan, leaves a bitter taste in Peter's mouth.

He tries his best to swallow around it.)

A pause. He swallows thickly, and he peers up at her, studying her. ]

Right?

[She does feel a significant amount of relief that Peter does not wish to yell at her. Ego had seemed to enjoy it, and Mantis must remind herself again that Peter is very much not like Ego in many of the ways that really count.

She does not say anything into the uncertain silence, but she does watch him, the shifting, conflicted expressions that move through him are frustratingly just almost readable, and not for the first time, Mantis wishes she could reach out and just... feel what was going on inside Peter. Gloved fingers twitch unconsciously in his direction the only indication she has this thought.

But that would be very rude. So instead, she is left with the impression that Peter simply looks...well, rather beat down. She feels, however, a strange sense of relief, when he begins to speak, and the uncertain look he gives her somewhat mirrors the worried look on her own face.

Mantis takes a long pause to gather her thoughts before speaking, because she knows this is important.]

I know I could never have destroyed him alone. I could have tried, or refused to help him but I think- I think he would have killed me too. I know I did not matter more to him than his mission.

[She frowns here, once again unable to meet Peter's eyes, and there are tears gathering in hers, guilty ones, full of regret and threatening to spill, that she does not want him to see. She does not deserve any pity, and she knows that.]

But I knew it was wrong. All the times. I always knew it was all wrong. [So far as the decades she had spent, watching it happen, each sibling, each new person that she was able to meet, only to watch them perish. Almost new friends, but never for long enough to count.]

I should have tried to stop him sooner, and I am very sorry that I did not.

There you go, then. [ Quietly, trying to keep judgment from his voice. ] You did what you had to so you could survive.

[ And god knows Peter had done the same, growing up. Yondu had trained him to steal when he knew it was wrong, and the Ravagers had shown him how to hurt people to keep himself from getting caught or killed. It had filled him with guilt when he was younger, but as he grew older, as he got better at what he did, he learned to take it all in stride. Everything he had done was wrong, and he knows that on an intellectual level. But these days, the sting isn’t nearly so bad.

But his situation is different from Mantis’s. Only in hindsight does Peter realize Yondu actually cared about him, even if he rarely showed it and never said it. Yondu hadn’t been the best dad in the world, and Peter would hesitate to call him even an okay dad, but Yondu had been there, at least. And Peter turned out alright, in spite of everything.

Peter glances up, sees the tears gathering in her eyes, and he lets out a quiet, dismayed, ]

Oh, shit.

[ He flinches at the sight, leaning forward and ducking to catch her sight again. ]

Think about it, Mantis. It’s like you said, right? If you had tried to stop him, he would’ve just— hurt you. Or worse.

[ Ego had admitted to killing his own children, after all. His own flesh and blood. He had told Peter as much while stars and dust and galaxies flew through Peter’s eyes, while his mind was filled with perfection and images of a universe unified under Ego’s image. If Ego could do that, then what would have stopped him from killing Mantis? ]

It’s— important. That you know it was wrong. [ And a small part of him had recognized a piece of the quiet guilt that had run through her for it. Because if Mantis didn’t understand that, then Peter wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have been weirdly relieved to run into Mantis at the carnivale. ]

Listen. You’re not the only one on the team that’s done some messed up shit to survive. You know that, right?

[It had been one thing for Mantis, on the ship surrounded by a makeshift family (and that was what Drax had said, they were family, whether they liked it or not). There it been easier to feel like she belonged, like all was forgiven, and for the short time she had been able to experience that feeling, like the love within all of them it had a comforting sort of pain to it.

But here in this place her insecurities have returned, the stretch of nights in a room alone have given Mantis too much room to think, and to second guess, and to remember all that had happened to put her in this place. Having to explain it to new friends was also having an effect on her ability to make sense of who she had been and who she could now be, who she wanted to be.

She blinks at Peter's curse, blinks at him and listens to his words, and she takes them to heart.]

I understand. I know that I am not... but I needed to tell you, and I am sorry that I did not tell you sooner. Your friendship is important to me.

[And she does not hesitate to say so. Not least of which because no one else in her world would ever know Ego the same way that Peter did, even the little that he did. Ego who had raised her, and introduced her to the world, who had been her world for all of her years, and who she would never see again. It conjures a complex ball of emotions within her that Mantis does not know how to deal with, but somehow, talking with Peter seems to have released some of the tension inside that ball.]

I am sorry for any trouble I have caused you. [Mantis finally tears her gaze from his, landing instead on the patch in Peter's hands. At the very least, she has managed not to actually cry.] If you should ever wish to discuss it... I am willing.

[ He frowns at her, lips pressed together in a tight line. He swallows around the painful knot in his throat.

She’s giving him permission to ask, and Peter has so many questions – all of them painful, and though he hardly knows if he wants to hear the answer to any of them. He and Mantis never had much of a chance to speak in the aftermath; all he knows is that she had a hand in hauling Peter out of the fire, that she was the one who clued Drax and Gamora into the weird, fucked up shit his father had gotten up to before the Guardians arrived.

Mantis chose to help. She could have stayed back, could have let things unfold and waited to see how the whole thing shook out, but she didn’t.

And Peter realizes for a brief, clear, moment that that’s what really matters. That she made that choice. And a part of him is always going to remember that she helped Ego, but he can forgive it, he thinks, as long as she keeps trying to do the right thing. ]

We’re fine, Mantis. We’re still friends.

[ And this comes out with a lot more certainty than it has any other time during this conversation. He tries for a small smile, and while it’s not entirely successful, thanks to the confused mess of whatever the fuck it is that’s coiling in his chest, he figures it’s the effort that counts.

After a second, he clears his throat, glancing around at the room to see if she’s laid out her uniform for him to muddle his way through sewing this patch on. ]

What am I attaching this to?

[Still friends. Mantis considers this, and it seems to indicate that not only are they friends now, but that indeed they were friends before this as well. That's a pretty nice feeling. And she believes Peter, because if there are any people in the world she trusts unquestioningly it is the family who has taken her in, of which he is a central part.]

I am glad that we are friends.

[She means to thank him for being so understanding, but she ends up ducking her head to hide the beginnings of a small but relatively awkward smile. His question is a welcome distraction, and, also, the reason Peter is here in the first place.]

My uniform... right here.

[She points to her chest, and the top she is wearing, a spot just to the left. Other than the uniform she came in, the only other clothing Mantis has purchased thus far have been pajamas, which (she has been informed) are not actually acceptable for wearing in public.]

How should we proceed?

[ There's something really different about how honest Mantis is, in how upfront she is with her emotions. Peter's used to working with some two-faced assholes, or with folks who make a habit of burying away everything they're feeling, so for Mantis to just— come out and say stuff like that?

It's weird. It's embarrassing.

But it's kind of nice, and he feels his smile become a little more certain with it.

When she answers his question, he blinks at her. Alright— yeah. He recognizes the uniform now, and, uh.

Welp. ]

Yeah. I'm gonna actually need the shirt. Unless you want to risk me jabbing you with a needle.

You wanna get changed?

[Mantis' smile shifts to a somewhat bewildered frown, realizing that the process of sewing is going to be more complex than she has originally anticipated.

Glancing about the room, she pulls something from a pile of laundry beside an open but empty dresser drawer.]

I will be right back.

[She disappears into the bathroom, and reappears a few moments later wearing a gray t-shirt that is far too big for her. She is still learning about sizes.]

What is the needle for? [Her question is one she was pondering on as she changed, and she poses it now as she hands Peter the shiny green uniform top.]

[ Once she steps away, Peter helps himself to a seat on the edge of the bed and reacquaints himself with the grueling process of threading the needle.

Why is the eye so tiny?

When Mantis steps out of the bathroom, Peter is still squinting at the needle, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on coaxing the thread through. He glances up as Mantis hands her uniform top over, and he takes it with a nod of thanks, laying it across his lap. ]

It's for sewing. Cute shirt, by the way.

[ He nods to the space beside him. ]

C'mon. Pull up a seat.

[ And he returns to trying to pass the thread through the eye of the needle. ]

So. What we're doing here— dammit. [ He clicks his tongue when the thread once again doesn't cooperate. ] What we're gonna do here is use this needle to— sonofa— to guide the thread to attach the patch to your top. Simple.

Finally.

[ This, as he manages to pull the thread through the eye. As he's prepping the needle and plucking up the tiny pair of scissors in the kit, he continues to explain what he's doing. ] So you always want more thread than you need, but not too much, or that sucker's gonna get tangled as hell. Then you wanna knot the end like this.

[ And now, the moment of truth. Peter arranges the patch on the spot Mantis had pointed to earlier. It becomes pretty clear why his patches always came out crooked, though: instead of securing the patch with pins, Peter just sort of pinches it in place and eyeballs it. ]

So you always start sewing from the back— [ And he pokes the needle through the wrong side of the fabric, up through the patch, and pulls the thread through until the knot catches. ] Then you put it back through without jabbing the crap out of your fingers, and you've got yourself a stitch.

[ He puts in a few more straight stitches, going slowly to better demonstrate for Mantis and because he's rusty as shit at this. His stitches are a little crooked, a lot uneven, but thankfully, the thread matches the patch to a decent degree. The amateur sewing job should be hidden well enough at a reasonable distance.

He holds out the needle and uniform top to her. ]

Wanna give it a shot?

[ He's come to the toy store for Damian. For video games specifically, as the arcades in town have proven to be one of the only ways in to the kid he lives with. Dick wants to do right by him. It only makes sense to find something they can play together anywhere.

But the aisles are long, the merchandise mostly unfamiliar, and in all honesty he'd been a child himself the last time he'd actually set foot in a place like this. He catches himself banging experimentally on a noise-making xylophone just in time to turn and spot an unfamiliar woman nearby. He offers up a sheepish little grin, only halfway embaressed in spite of himself. ]

You check out the one with seahorses?

[Mantis is not sure what she is looking for, or why she is here. It's the colors in the front display that draw her attention, and the friendly looking stuffed creatures and things she does not recognize that draw her into the store itself.

And she has been here for nearly an hour an a half, not that she has noticed the time flying by, reading the boxes of things, poking at the soft things, and watching small humans begging their parents for toys.

She ends up in one of the brightest colored aisles of the store, prodding the buttons on variously shaped plastic toys and listening to the many sounds that emerge. There are so many buttons. She's so enthralled she doesn't notice the other person in the aisle with her, until he speaks. ]

Oh! Seahorses? [That doesn't sound like something she has seen before.] Where is that one?

[ Cisco is on a very important mission, that afternoon, going on a very important supply run in which he will buy very important essentials that he needs to do his very important work as an engineer.

In other words: he is wandering the aisles of the best candy shop in the quarantine, filling his basket absolutely to the brim with everything bright-colored and sweet that his heart could possibly desire. It's all skittles and red vines and a truly impressive number of lollipops, and he doesn't show any signs of stopping soon.

He does, however, pause in his progress when he spots Mantis. Cisco's been in this place long enough that he's pretty used to the concept of aliens, and he's even been friends with a few of them. But it doesn't stop being surprising, just looking up in a store and seeing a woman with, well, antennae. ]

Those ones are really good.

[ He gestures to the container of sour peach rings in front of where Mantis is standing. ]

[Mantis is definitely lost. Not so much in direction, since she knows where she is, at least, it is a place she has walked by enough to know its location, and to be drawn in by the brightly colored displays and food items for sale.

But she is lost in the sense that she does not recognize any of the foods. She recognizes some of the fruit flavors, but she is still struggling to decide what to select from the many options.

When her fellow shopper points out a suggestion, Mantis doesn't hesitate to pull it off the shelf, peering closely at the rings through the cellophane bag and squeezing them through the crinkle.]

They are very squishy.

Do you like sour stuff? Those ones are pretty sour.

[ It's not hard to guess, from the way she is handling the bag, to her expression, to the delicate way she is squeezing the candy, that she's never had any before. Which... is kind of a delightful thought, to Cisco. Sure, lots of people here are more sophisticated than him, had travelled from planet to planet, or could do magic, or a bunch of other stuff. But he does, at least, have extensive knowledge and experience with candy. ]

I was gonna get some of those, anyway, so if you want, I can buy a bag and open 'em up so you can try one before you decide if you want a whole bag of your own?

[ He lives to be helpful. ]

[She makes a face, half wary, and half uncertain, at the mention of sour.]

I think... it will depend on how sour they are, sometimes sour is way too sour.

[Which Mantis discovered the first time she bit into a lemon. She would not make that mistake again.

She listens to his suggestion curiously, head tilting to consider the offer.] That would be most helpful, I would like to try the sour squishy rings.

[Then, because she had never met the young man before, and because he is offering to help her...] Thank you very much.

[ When she agrees to the offer (which actually surprises him - he feels like most people would say no, even if it was a good idea, merely because it's a breach in usual etiquette) he grins. ]

You're most welcome. Gimme two seconds.

[ With that, he grabs one of the bags, leaving the basket with the rest of his candy sitting on the floor of the store as he goes up to the counter to pay for just that bag of peach rings. He returns a moment later, stuffing a receipt into his pocket and then tearing the plastic bag open. He plucks one of the peach rings out and pops it into his mouth, then holds the bag in Mantis's direction. ]

Moment of truth.

[Mantis waits in the aisle relatively obediently, looking about at the other items in the vicinity of the rings that the new and helpful stranger has pointed out for her. There is a bag of blue gummies that she has taken to prodding at while she waits for him to make his return.

She was keeping count.]

That was not two seconds. [Her pointing this out is somewhat offhand as her gaze is already narrowing in on the offered bag. She selects an orange and yellow ring and sniffs it, nose wrinkling when a couple of errant sugar granules attach to the tip of it. She brushes them off before taking a careful bite that removes half the ring and morphs her face as she adjusts to the mix of sweet and sour the ring provides. It is a rather intense combination of both flavors and something fruity.]

These are very powerful rings. [She cannot resist finishing the other half, taking her time to chew it thoroughly whilst she offers a thumbs up. Universal symbol of acceptance.] They are very good!

[ Cisco laughs when she tells him that he was gone for more than two seconds, shaking his head a little. For the most part, whatever technology is in place that translates speech between them all works seamlessly. But it can't cover things like idioms and colloquialisms as well. ]

Just an expression. If I was gonna buy them in only two actual seconds, I'd have to be a speedster.

[ He finds himself laughing again when she describes them as powerful. It sounds like a compliment, anyway, but he had never really thought of them that way. Her thumbs up makes it clear she's enjoying the taste, so Cisco reaches in for two more and then holds out the bag to her. ]

Here, you can have the rest, I only wanted a couple anyway.

[ Cisco shakes the bag a little, prompting her to take it. ]

I'm Cisco, by the way. Nice to meet you. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say they don't have a lot of candy shops, where you're from?

[Well, she understands what 'just an expression' means, but she is about to ask was a speedster is when he offers to let her have the entire bag of squishy rings. Mantis is immediately smiling.]

Thank you very much. [The thanks is genuine, and she does not hesitate to take the bag when it shakes at her, crinkling it as she is already digging for another one.]

I am Mantis. There were no shops at all on the planet I am from. There was no candy either. I did not know there were so many types of food.

[ Cisco is yet again delighted by her enthusiasm, by the way that she doesn't pretend she doesn't want them and make him insist a second time, but just accepts the gift without any pretense. ]

Wait. So you're telling me you probably haven't tried, like, most of these?

[ He swings his arm in a broad arc, indicating the candy shop with its hundreds of different varieties, some bright and colorful, others glossy and dark, some shaped like fish or butterflies or belts, some on sticks or in little packets. He almost say 'any' of these, but he wants to give her some benefit of the doubt. ]

I got an idea. We should get a teeny tiny bit of as many different kinds as we can... or not that many but just... a lot [ He amends the statement midway through, realizing that given her earlier comments, she might appreciate if he were a bit more literal, and he doesn't want to ACTUALLY buy every kind in the store - ] and just find somewhere nice to sit and try them all, so we can see which ones are your favorite? Like a taste test?

[ Part of Gamora has refused to accept their fate in Quarantine. She assumes that, at some point, they'll get to go home, and that means they can't let their skills (especially in combat) fall by the wayside. She also assumes that when they return, Mantis will inevitably be staying with the rest of the Guardians, as permanently as she wants, which means she'll need to be more effective.

Gamora can help with that.

She's leading the way through the streets towards the training facilities for the Guard. They have the space and equipment, and that will serve them well for now. ]

Do you have any idea what you would like to learn first?

[Mantis has not thought of that. In her mind, when she pictures it, she only sees herself suddenly able to react and counter with the same speed that Gamora seems to possess when she fights.

She is pretty sure it will not be that simple.]

I think... it would be good not be sneaked up on. Is there training for that?

[Sneaky or not, that debris had caught her fairly off guard.]

Yes, though that involves honing your senses perhaps more than actual combat.

[ It wouldn't be a bad thing to help Mantis with her situational awareness, though.

She probably needs it more than most. ]

Have you had any previous training to speak of?

Oh...

[Mantis is still working these things out. At Gamora's question, her head shakes quickly.] Oh no. Not training...

[Then, that is not entirely true is it? Even if it is mostly true.]

Drax was showing me to throw knives but I do not think my aim was acceptable.

[She had been hoping to improve but then... well, she had ended up here instead.]

Knife-throwing is a difficult skill. I'm surprised he started you with something like that.

[ Actually... no, she isn't, because leave it to Drax to pick a difficult kind of combat. ]

Have you done anything hand-to-hand?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

you get the gray skies outta my way

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OPEN | toy store

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(hope this is ok! lmk if you'd like me to change it to something else)

it is wonderful!!

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SLIDES IN HERE LATE AF MY BAD DUDE

WORRY NOT ALSO LATE AF

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