donttouchthefur | first escape

[VIDEO - public]

[When the feed clicks on, there's what appears to be a raccoon staring at the screen, teeth bared and lips pulled back into what might be a vicious smile, if smiling was a thing raccoons were capable of. He's dressed in what can only be called a jumpsuit, made of red fabric and dark leather, and if the utter chaos that can be seen behind him is any indication, he's not exactly thrilled to be there.

When he speaks, however, there's no trace of that, only sharp humor and the kind of arrogance that says this is only a setback. Temporary.]

Two joints in two days? I'm flattered, really, wasting all that time and money on little ol' me. Sorry about that last one, but if you look in the depths of your measly breeder hearts it was a cakewalk and you know it.

So who are you, Nova or Kree? Not that it matters. We're all screwed either way, right?

[SPAM]

[They'd given him a communicator, and honestly that was all he needed to know about the place. They were soft, they were stupid. He'd be out of here in no time, and never mind Ronnan and his stupid giant hammer. If the Galaxy was doomed he didn't want to be anywhere near the center of it, and okay, so what was the point, he knew that, but survival instinct was strong.

First order of business after seeing what bit on the network was seeing what he had to work with, including the comm. Depending on how it worked, what kind it was, he could use it to hack or blow something up or at least zap something, but when he pulled it apart it exploded, showering him in confetti and multicolored string and Styrofoam pellets. What the hell...?

So much for that plan. Whatever, he'd figure out something else. Had to be plenty of patsies to work, every place had at least one.

He ventured outside the cell after that, roamed the halls he found on the other side, and it was way nicer than anyplace he'd been before, way too cushy for a real prison, but he could work that too.

He worked his way into the ductwork, easy enough with his size and claws, peeked a head out wherever he found a grate; other cells, communal bathrooms, a gym, a library... A few wouldn't open, so he scratched and clawed and pulled and cursed at them, eventually moving on when they didn't give. Had to find a tool for it, he'd come up with something. Come back to it.

He found the deck, climbed the railing to stare at the stars, try to pick out where in the universe they were. If he could figure out where he could maybe figure out a way off, somebody to contact, something to take advantage of. He found the mess eventually, ventured in when he finally got hungry enough, walked across the floor like he owned the place, like he wasn't two feet tall (and he knew that was being generous). Like he was somebody not to be messed with.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Already did, now I'm here. The rest of 'em want to deal with it they're welcome to it, but I'm pretty sure we already lost.

Only 'cause you didn't know what you were doin', right? You're little babies, don't have anything good to use against 'em so of course you practically get your asses handed to you. You figure it out, get your collective act together, maybe you won't almost lose so bad next time.

Pretty sure - but not completely sure. I wouldn't give up so easily, if I were you. Sounds like there's an awful lot at stake.

[He laughs a little, at the idea of being called "babies," but... maybe Rocket is right.] Yeah - but thankfully, it was only practically.

I'd like to think we'll be better prepared, the next time.

[He doesn't know for sure, but he knows now that the team they have can be a team. And that every one of them is willing to do what it takes to stop another threat like this.]

I'm okay with there not being a next time, though. At least they're gonna have to get there the hard way, if they want to come back.

Nah, it was a suicide mission to begin with. Never shoulda tried.

[There's something bitter in the words, something darker, something almost openly sad, but only almost. Rocket stuffs it down; he's not going to show weakness to some human stranger if he can help it.]

There's gonna be a next time. Can't be avoided; they know you're there and not complete idiots they're gonna come back. Somebody is, anyway. May not be them, may be somebody who ain't gonna try to take you over, but somebody's gonna show up.

All the good ones are. Doesn't mean they're not worth it.

[But committing your life to something isn't always easy.

And hearing that it's likely not the last time someone's going to visit Earth... it makes sense. Even if it makes life a whole lot more complicated, too.] At the very least, then, I guess a guy can hope they'll give us a breather in between. We've got plenty of our own affairs to get in order.

Although nothing unites people like a common enemy...

[He laughs at that. It's loud, obnoxious, almost to the point of over-acted.]

You're kiddin' me with that, right? Nothin's worth dying for. 'Cause then you're just....dead. And what's the point of that? Just makes everybody cry and act stupid and you ain't even there to enjoy it.

...you lookin' to make friends?

[Steve is not fazed. He can't blame you for thinking that way, but,] Some things are worth it. Even if you're dead at the end of them.

I guess you do miss the party, though.

[He smiles wryly.] Doesn't hurt. How're you supposed to get much of anywhere without friends?

How. How is it worth it, doin' something like that for a lotta people who sure as hell wouldn't do it for you.

[He scowls then.]

I had a friend. I don't need another one.

Because when you find something you think is worth giving up your life for, it doesn't matter what anyone else would do.

But it's a personal choice. Maybe you'll never find something you think is worth it, and that's fine, too.

[Friend, right -] The... okay, I don't know what he was. Groot, though, right?

[Rocket just rolls his eyes, at least when Steve tries to explain; he's pretty sure that day won't ever come.

But the mention of Groot...well that's unexpected.]

You know Groot?

Uh - not so much know as have talked to. Briefly.

Oh yeah? When.

A couple of months ago - August.

I talked to you, too, actually.

Your friend was a little less, uh. Verbose.

Funny, I don't remember you.

Yeah, words ain't his strong point.

[Really it's just that most people can't understand him, but Rocket's not about to correct him.]

[He shrugs a little helplessly, not offended in the least.] It was sort of a strange day, anyway.

[He nods.] Conversationalist or not, it's nice to have someone around for company, though.

Sure. But he's dead so it don't matter much now.

[Yup, he sure is just blurting that out. Hey, Steve's the one who brought him up, that shit ain't cool.]

[Well, that sucks.]

That's a shame. I'm sorry.

[But you don't seem like the kind of guy who'd want that kind of sentiment, so. Moving on.] Either way, I never learned much more about you. Guess I might have that chance, now.

[But it's clearly up to you.]

Is what it is. Can't do anything about it, right?

[Yeah he's totally fine with it. Absolutely.

Ha.]

Ain't much to know.

No, you can't.

[And no, you're not.

But he's been there, so.]

Maybe not, but I'll bet it's more than I know now. Do you have a home? That's not a ship, I mean.

No place worth talkin' about. Ship's more home than anyplace I grew up.

That's fair.

This shouldn't be so unusual then, at least.

Nah, neither part's unusual. Just a pain in the tail.

Right. I guess you're more used to picking where you're going to go.

Usually, yeah.

If it makes you feel better, we wardens don't know where we're headed, either.

Then again, I guess this is one of those "it's the journey, not the destination" kinda cruises. [For all of them, really.]

I hate when people say that. I'm pretty sure where you're going is more important than how you got there.

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punched_hitler - 2015-02-22 01:36 (UTC) - Expand