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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
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
You’re being awfully picky about a group you’ve only just now heard about. But fine. I’ll work on a set list.
[ Which may or may not be “I Can’t Help Myself” played five times. ]
no subject
Mm. Send it to me and I will listen to it at work.
[ And, to save Gamora from more potential pet names, their waitress returns with a tray bearing their food. She beams at them both, chirping, ]
Here we go!
[ Gamora glances over at her as she sets their food in front of them, before straightening up with that smile still on her face. ]
Is there anything else?
[ Gamora shakes her head. ]
No, thank you.
no subject
He offers the waitress a winning smile to see her off, and he plucks a fry from his plate, munching on it thoughtfully. He looks out over to the screen, where the ads are still playing on a loop, and he watches it for a second before looking back to her.
Slowly, ]
... Can I ask you a question?
no subject
She pauses halfway through spearing a bite of pasta, glancing back up at Peter with a somewhat cautious look. That never seems like a good lead-in for anything, but she doesn't cut him off. ]
... Yes?
no subject
At length, he peers up at her, eyebrows knitting together; when he speaks, it's slowly and cautiously. ]
If all this stuff was useless and frivolous— [ Her words, not his. ] —then why'd you mess with this?
[ And he lifts up his hand, waggling his pinky. ]
no subject
She's quiet for a few moments, putting down her fork with a soft noise that borders on frustration – though more for her own lack of what she considers to be a satisfactory answer. ]
It seemed harmless.
[ Harmless and potentially helpful. ]
no subject
You said that already.
[ Maybe not in so many words, but it's basically how she responded earlier, when they first found the string binding them together. ]
I mean, there's lots of stuff that's harmless, but that doesn't mean you just do it.
no subject
I wanted to see what would happen.
[ If anything at all.
But she wanted to see where the string would end up, whose finger it would wrap around. ]
no subject
So are we not talking about this?
[ In a level sort of tone, even if he feels anything but level. To Peter, those answers sound like dodges, like sidesteps. Gamora tends to cut to the heart of things when they speak – a quality that was both admirable and infuriating, depending on his mood at the time. And right now, she’s hardly being direct. ]
no subject
But now, that history is damning her. As she tries to understand what she feels and why she feels it... she's lost.
On the one hand, she isn't trying to shut those feelings out, but she also doesn't know what to do about them or— ]
... I don't know how to talk about this, Peter.
[ And admitting that is grudging, reluctant. Gamora hates admitting to weakness – which, somehow, this feels like one.
Because once again, here's Peter, willing to open himself up to new possibilities, and here's Gamora...
A jerk who doesn't trust anybody.
(But she does trust him. She hasn't said it in so many words, hasn't brought this up with him since they screamed at each other on Ego's planet, and she's just lost – but she still trusts him.) ]
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