ɢ ᴀ ᴍ ᴏ ʀ ᴀ. (
godslay) wrote in
riverviewlogs2017-09-14 10:15 pm
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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
Accomplished though he may be at spinning stories, this doesn't feel untrue – even if it catches her somewhat off-guard. His response was so easy, so immediate, and... genuine.
Hearing that from Peter doesn't come often.
She pulls her own hand back when Peter does the same, picking up her fork once more to return to her dinner. ]
Later.
[ Which is absolutely an agreement, rather than an attempt to be dismissive.
She means it, even as her eyes flicker down to the red string stretching between them. ]