ɢ ᴀ ᴍ ᴏ ʀ ᴀ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
godslay) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-09-14 10:15 pm
godslay) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-09-14 10:15 pm
Entry tags:
( closed ) but never break.
who: Gamora and Peter Quill
what: Soulmates Shenanigans
when: September 5th-8th (maybe)
where: ?????
warnings: People who are frustratingly bad at feelings.
[ Gamora has discovered two things since her encounters with that new flavor circulating around the city. One: Peter Quill takes up a lot of space in a very small bed. And two: she happens to like sharing that very small bed with the aforementioned Peter Quill.
Not that she's said that to him. Or mentioned the nights spent in his bed. Or done it again since – though that doesn't mean she hasn't been tempted to do so; there have been evenings when she's paused by her own bed, looking over to Peter's and considering crawling under the blankets before he comes in for the night or, on later evenings, nudging him over again to demand a spot on the bed.
But she doesn't – as much as it soothes her, as comfortable as it had been, and as well as she'd slept; she doesn't know how to mention it. Because the first night had felt like a fluke, and she's not entirely sure what had come over her. The second time she'd been affected physically in that odd, cold way, and— maybe she had encountered something, like that pollen that took Peter's memories. Or maybe it was that additive that had been in her coffee and the treats.
On the other hand... it had been so nice, hadn't it? She hadn't been opposed to sharing so much space with him, to being that close, and she'd been content. Beyond content, she'd been happy. And Peter had impressed her with how he'd handled it and the way he treated her, and she liked it.
But does that mean she's going to bring it up?
Probably not.
However, that doesn't mean she isn't thinking about it, which happens a lot in the following week. Actually, it's hard not to think about it, because the city itself seems to have been wholly overrun by a new festival dedicated to love.
What convenient timing (or possibly inconvenient, given it forces Gamora to keep running into all sorts of different romantic things throughout the entire week).
About halfway through the week, Gamora is still preoccupied with that... thing with Peter. Their months in the city and the time before they arrived, and that Unspoken Thing keeps looming over her, now with even more bits and pieces to consider. Finally, finally, she allows herself to be stopped by one of the vendors on the streets on her way home from work. He plies her with potions – which she immediately and adamantly refuses, because she has no interest in swallowing something she doesn't trust – and eventually, offers her a tiny jar with a red thread inside of it.
This, she looks at more seriously. Apparently, all she has to do is tie the thread around her finger, and an identical thread will appear between her and her "soulmate."
That sounds utterly foolish, because it's a silly idea on its own, but... what harm is there? She doesn't actually believe the claims that it will "help her find love," but considering how much she's struggled with her feelings recently, why the hell not?
She accepts the bottle from the vendor with the small string inside of it, and once she's headed down the street, she opens it up and pulls out the thread and note.
... Well, the note is useless, but the thread she ties around her pinkie finger.
Almost immediately, the thread begins to glow, and the light trails out and away from her hand, long and red and disappearing into the crowd. People walk through and over it with hardly any problems, so she has to imagine the vendor wasn't kidding that only she and one other person could see it, but she still tugs experimentally at it, watching it move and wiggle like normal string might.
Frowning, she unties the thread, and—
Ah. The light is still wrapped around her finger.
... She also realizes she forgot to ask how long this would last.
With some measure of reluctance, she starts to head through the crowd, following the thread to at least see where it leads. ]
what: Soulmates Shenanigans
when: September 5th-8th (maybe)
where: ?????
warnings: People who are frustratingly bad at feelings.
[ Gamora has discovered two things since her encounters with that new flavor circulating around the city. One: Peter Quill takes up a lot of space in a very small bed. And two: she happens to like sharing that very small bed with the aforementioned Peter Quill.
Not that she's said that to him. Or mentioned the nights spent in his bed. Or done it again since – though that doesn't mean she hasn't been tempted to do so; there have been evenings when she's paused by her own bed, looking over to Peter's and considering crawling under the blankets before he comes in for the night or, on later evenings, nudging him over again to demand a spot on the bed.
But she doesn't – as much as it soothes her, as comfortable as it had been, and as well as she'd slept; she doesn't know how to mention it. Because the first night had felt like a fluke, and she's not entirely sure what had come over her. The second time she'd been affected physically in that odd, cold way, and— maybe she had encountered something, like that pollen that took Peter's memories. Or maybe it was that additive that had been in her coffee and the treats.
On the other hand... it had been so nice, hadn't it? She hadn't been opposed to sharing so much space with him, to being that close, and she'd been content. Beyond content, she'd been happy. And Peter had impressed her with how he'd handled it and the way he treated her, and she liked it.
But does that mean she's going to bring it up?
Probably not.
However, that doesn't mean she isn't thinking about it, which happens a lot in the following week. Actually, it's hard not to think about it, because the city itself seems to have been wholly overrun by a new festival dedicated to love.
What convenient timing (or possibly inconvenient, given it forces Gamora to keep running into all sorts of different romantic things throughout the entire week).
About halfway through the week, Gamora is still preoccupied with that... thing with Peter. Their months in the city and the time before they arrived, and that Unspoken Thing keeps looming over her, now with even more bits and pieces to consider. Finally, finally, she allows herself to be stopped by one of the vendors on the streets on her way home from work. He plies her with potions – which she immediately and adamantly refuses, because she has no interest in swallowing something she doesn't trust – and eventually, offers her a tiny jar with a red thread inside of it.
This, she looks at more seriously. Apparently, all she has to do is tie the thread around her finger, and an identical thread will appear between her and her "soulmate."
That sounds utterly foolish, because it's a silly idea on its own, but... what harm is there? She doesn't actually believe the claims that it will "help her find love," but considering how much she's struggled with her feelings recently, why the hell not?
She accepts the bottle from the vendor with the small string inside of it, and once she's headed down the street, she opens it up and pulls out the thread and note.
... Well, the note is useless, but the thread she ties around her pinkie finger.
Almost immediately, the thread begins to glow, and the light trails out and away from her hand, long and red and disappearing into the crowd. People walk through and over it with hardly any problems, so she has to imagine the vendor wasn't kidding that only she and one other person could see it, but she still tugs experimentally at it, watching it move and wiggle like normal string might.
Frowning, she unties the thread, and—
Ah. The light is still wrapped around her finger.
... She also realizes she forgot to ask how long this would last.
With some measure of reluctance, she starts to head through the crowd, following the thread to at least see where it leads. ]
no subject
This is certainly not lowkey.
Not that it's unpleasant, by any means. It's simply not Gamora's style – or, she figures, Peter's. She wasn't raised in luxury, and the types of places the Guardians frequented (and were welcomed) didn't tend to do with napkin rings and bouquets. It's shockingly intimate for an event accompanying a movie, and it's particularly heavy on the... romantic element.
(But is that an unwelcome thing?
... No, but it's weird.)
Gamora's eyes flicker down to the thread that stretches between them again when their hands part, before she's distracted by the table settings. ]
This feels a lot more extravagant than it needed to be.
[ She reaches out to consider one of the red flowers in the table's vase, brushing a finger over a petal. ]
I recognize these from the gardens, though.
no subject
Then again, the Quarantine hardly seemed to do anything by halves, so he supposes this logically follows.
He glances up from a menu at the flowers in question. Peter's hardly an expert on flora, but he recognizes the bloom that's caught Gamora's attention. ]
It's a rose.
[ But that seems to be the extent of his knowledge, as far as the flowers go. ]
They're kind of a romantic thing. On Earth, anyway. Never really figured out why, considering the stems are all thorny.
no subject
I like the thorns. It's beautiful, but dangerous.
[ And she likes that apparently the roses are considered important enough to decorate such an event, even if they are covered in thorns. ]
no subject
I think most folks were just paying attention to the flower part. [ And he nods toward the bloom. ]
They were pretty common, though, back on Earth. Kind of a staple for holidays like these, you know? Folks always get them for the people they—
[ love. ]
—um. Appreciated.
[ nice save. Peter clears his throat, gaze darting to the menu. ]
Flowers. Chocolates. Cute little stuffed animals. Gifts like that.
no subject
[ She wishes she could remember if her own planet had celebrated in this way, and... she thinks they must have? But it was so long ago, and Thanos had so thoroughly driven sentimental thoughts and nostalgia from her after stealing her away. She remembers certain things, but others are a blur, lost to time, that she doubts she'll ever recover.
That aches sometimes.
Her hand leaves the roses so she can examine the menu, and she finds she's somewhat impressed by, yet again, the extensiveness of this setup. It's much more than a simple picnic in the park. ]
no subject
[ He sets the menu aside – in all likelihood, he's just going to get whatever passes as a burger, being a man of simple tastes – and returns to messing with the napkin, turning the ring idly, just to give his hands something to do. A quick glance up catches the attention of a waitress, who signals that she'll be right over. ]
Add in anniversaries and birthdays and you've got a bajillion reasons to shower a person in rose petals and sweets, I guess.
no subject
That seems excessive.
[ ... Or maybe any kind of celebration like that feels excessive to Gamora, given how much she's never experienced that.
She casts a glance across the park, towards the large screen set up and waiting. ]
Are we going to sit here for the entire movie?
no subject
At Gamora’s question, he follows her gaze up to the movie screen, where they’re currently projecting what looks like a series of ads for local businesses. He frowns a little before shrugging a shoulder. ]
I mean, I... guess we don’t have to?
[ He assumes she means, “Do we have to stay for the whole movie?” which is a little disappointing. He remembers liking Dirty Dancing, even if it was kind of a chick flick. ]
We can cut out early if you’re not having a good time.
no subject
I wasn't suggesting we leave. I meant I thought it would be more comfortable sitting on the lawn. [ Together.
It's admittedly different from sitting in a chair, but it's less turning in their seats to watch the screen or sitting with a table between them. ]
no subject
Oh.
[ And he drags the word out on a breath before huffing out a laugh. ]
Right. Yeah. Okay. We can do that, if you want.
[ He definitely sounds relieved, and after another breath, he laughs again, a little self-deprecating this time. ]
I’m, uh. [ A pause, and he gestures vaguely, the red string swaying with the movement. ] Can you tell this is kinda new to me?
[ The formal, intimate atmosphere of the little patio, the tacit acknowledgement of this thing between them, the fact that they’re basically on a date, though without the label, has definitely thrown him off his groove, and he’s floundering. ]
no subject
And you think I have any more experience than you do?
[ Really, she lacks even pretty basic frames of reference for this. At least Peter has his odd pop culture knowledge to draw from, but Gamora isn't really certain how to... do this. She's charmed her targets before, but quick flattery and indulgence is different from whatever this happens to be.
She's definitely never been on a date, of all things. ]
no subject
Of course I don’t.
[ The words are out before he can properly think on them, and the second the last syllable leaves his mouth, he wonders if that was rude. Was that rude? It might’ve been rude. It seems rude. Peter is definitely an asshole, but he’s not meaning to be one, right now.
Does pointing out the fact that she isn’t one for relationships or dates constitute as a party foul?
... Maybe. ]
—I didn’t mean it that way.
[ This, in a sort of rush. ]
I just meant, you know. Like, I mean, not “of course,” as in “of course, why or when the hell would you ever?” Not like that. Because obviously you’re fantastic, and, like, if you cared to, anyone would be lucky to— I mean, not that I’m saying you didn’t or might not have cared before now, but—
[ His expression pinches, and he starts over: ] No, okay, I mean, like, not “of course”-of course. I mean, uh, like, “obviously you wouldn’t.”
—Wait. No. That’s basically the same thing, isn’t it? Crap. I mean like—
[ you should probably get a snack, Gamora. This might take a while. ]
no subject
(It's part of what made the moment that Peter had first tried to broach the subject of the unspoken thing so frustrating; she didn't know what he was talking about, she didn't know what they were doing together, and she didn't have any way to define her feelings or wants or needs.
She simply fumbles in very different ways from Peter.)
... She also doesn't actually help him dig himself back out of his hole, because she continues to watch him with that expectant look as he twists in the wind.
It just gets funnier the longer he goes on, really.
Mercifully, the person who interrupts his stream of babbling is, instead, their well-meaning waitress, who arrives at the table with a light smile and an easy, ]
Do you two lovebirds know what you want?
[ ... Though this actually does break Gamora's composure enough for her to look startled.
"Lovebirds" is somehow more of an explicit descriptor than she and Peter have managed to find for themselves yet. ]
no subject
But then she has to go and say that, doesn’t she? Because Peter immediately starts, ]
We, uh—
[ “aren’t,” is how he meant to finish up that thought, but— they sort of are, right? That’s why they’re here. Maybe not lovebirds (in Gamora’s case in regard to Peter, anyway, as far as he’s aware), but likebirds? Which is not a thing at all, but—
He licks his lips, swallowing down his initial instinct to correct the waitress. Considering this is a sort of thing for couples only, insisting that they’re not a couple would probably be frowned down on. So at length, Peter lets out a breath, making a conscious effort to brighten his expression, and rather than clarify the decidedly unclear state of his relationship with Gamora, he decides to play along.
He rattles off his order, and as the waitress jots it down, he looks over to Gamora, and only now does he see the stricken look on her face. It’s— kind of funny, if he’s honest, if only because Gamora is so rarely flustered, and he smiles.
Then, brightly, ]
You need a few more moments, sweetheart?
no subject
... That doesn't stop her from leveling Peter with a flat look. ]
No.
[ She also obviously needs practice with the loving girlfriend routine, but she glances over at the waitress and gives her order. The poor woman looks somewhat less perky and a whole lot more confused by their exchange, but she smooths it away with a bright smile. ]
We'll have that right out for you.
[ —before she darts away.
Gamora turns back to Peter with one of those tailor-made Looks. ]
"Sweetheart?"
no subject
Sorry.
[ He does not sound in the least bit sorry. ]
It was the first thing I could think of on short notice.
no subject
Nothing at all would have been the better option.
[ Pet names are far from something in Gamora's list of interests, really. ]
no subject
Still, that doesn't stop him from trying: ]
What about sweetie? Sweetie pie? Sugar? Honey? Darling?
Sugar pie honey bunch?
no subject
[ What a generous offer. ]
no subject
I obviously need to help you cultivate a deeper appreciation for The Four Tops.
[ Because clearly, if she heard the song, she wouldn't mind the pet name nearly as much.
Clearly. ]
no subject
[ These references of his clearly just keep going over her head. ]
no subject
[ Thankfully, he's used to explaining his references, and he offers up the explanation without even a hint of complaint.
This has the added benefit of putting him on slightly more familiar ground, too, and a little bit of his earlier nervousness ebbs away. ]
You'd actually like 'em, I think. I'll try to track some of their stuff down.
no subject
[ She looks fairly skeptical – though Peter hasn't led her astray as far as much, she's come to learn.
... Still, though. Does Gamora look like the "sugar pie honey bunch" type? ]
no subject
I think you might. [ Though he says it with certainty. ] I mean, it's catchy as hell, and it's got a good beat. If nothing else, you're definitely gonna have it stuck in your head for, like, a month.
And I'm not gonna apologize for that.
no subject
[ Catchy with a good beat aside. ]
If they have other music, maybe you should play that for me instead.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)