cuddlecity | Gamora | MCU

Entry tags:

Gamora | MCU | OTA

CHARACTERS: Gamora & YOU!
LOCATIONS: best friends rescue, b-sides, shooting range, good times, etc
WARNINGS: none yet
SUMMARY: catch-all for gamora and anyone that wants to meet/speak to her

Gamora was becoming more comfortable with life in Cadelle even if not everyone was particularly comfortable with her. She was still the only one that she was aware of that didn't look immediately Terran and was clearly from somewhere else. It's why she valued the friendships she had.

And the dog that Baby kept at B-Sides just had her thinking more and more about getting her own pet. For a couple of weeks she was one of those annoying people that kept visiting Best Friends Rescue and looking like she wanted to adopt a pet of some variety, but never quite able to decide what. A dog reminded her of Quill (it was a compliment, wasn't it?). A cat seemed more independent like her. They didn't offer up raccoons like Rocket, or little baby trees like Groot. Nothing was like Drax. Not that she should have been trying to recreate her crew with animals.

She had finally discovered the gun range as well, though the guns here seemed primitive compared to the weapons she was used to wielding. It also seemed safer to practice under a controlled environment rather than her apartment or anywhere else.

And then there were nights when sitting around reading up on Earth's history wasn't going to cut it, and she ventured out to the pubs and clubs, but her personal favourite was Good Times where they played the music she had decided was her favourite - nothing new, all the classics - and she could disguise her like of dancing by wearing roller skates and getting as lost in a crowd as a green-skinned alien could.

[ as always feel free to write your own starter with where you want to run into gamora, or hit me up

kindofabigdeal or pm. ]

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With nothing to bring with him but the clothes on his back (and an entirely unnecessary selection of knives) there is nothing to unpack. Loki had lingered barely long enough to walk the floors of his new living quarters and craft a glamoured Midgardian set of clothes for this first venture into the city of wishes. Perhaps in defiance of Thor's opinion, he'd chosen the same all-black suit he'd worn on his last trip to Midgard, because it is in fact very stylish, and what does Thor know about style anyway?

He'd passed a number of busy places that hadn't caught his interest, but any establishment that billed itself as "Good Times" must have something to hide, Loki had reasoned, and so he'd gone in. Thus far, he hadn't found what that hidden side might be, people seem to come here with the intention of strapping wheels to their feet, but he has noticed someone interesting in the circling crowd. He can't pinpoint her race, she isn't from one of the Nine Realms, but she isn't of Earth either and that in itself makes her more interesting than most.

Loki waits until she's had her fill of circles and ventures over to lean against the wall that separates the skaters from the observers. "You have a talent for this pastime," he says. "Did you learn in this city, or were you already acquainted with it?"

Gamora had forgone a band t-shirt. She was saving them mostly for when she was shift at B-Sides. It seemed to fit the part of working at a record store. She was wearing her usual black leather pants that she'd arrived in, but it was a white tank top that she wore - her sweater and jacket stashed safely while she skated around.

Loki wasn't the only one that tended to favour dark colours but a lot of that had to do with her skin. And habit.

She recognised him as soon as he was close enough, any surprise she felt at seeing him in such a place wasn't reflected on her features. She was always careful to give very little away until she was comfortable with someone. It wasn't until she came to a stop in front of him that the corner of her mouth kicked up in a smile.

"Loki of Asgard, what brings you and your silver tongue into a place like this?" Gamora placed her hands against the top of the barricade and leaned on it while she glanced behind her at the other skaters. "Thank you, but I definitely learned it here. I would think skating on a ship was dangerous."

Hey, Gamora, do you wanna play a game?

[ Baby pokes his head out from the backroom to throw her a look - they've divided the duties in the morning as they do every day, Baby in charge of inventoring the back shelves, where they keep the rare vinyls, limited edition, the ones that were so special their prices had skyrocketed over the years. The stuff Baby never really wanted to sell, if you asked him.

But it was slow going, the store had been mostly empty all morning, Otis had been sleeping in his nest of blankets in the back office, and Baby was getting antsy. Gamora was a great co-worker - dedicated, hard-working, no-nonsense, didn't really talk much. It was perfect, considering Baby didn't really feel like talking most of the time, either - it worked really well.

But today, Baby was a little restless, nervous energy running through him. So, time to change things up. He wouldn't get more friends if he didn't talk to anyone, after all,
that was something he had been learning since arriving in Cadelle. ]

Edited (lemme get a better icon...) 2018-01-18 09:18 (UTC)

A game?

[ Gamora stood from where she'd been finishing up a display of CDs, head tilted as she admired her handiwork. So maybe she still didn't quite get the appeal of Taylor Swift, but it seemed popular with some of the citizens. The Fleetwood Mac t-shirt that she wore still spoke of her musical allegiance being to the period of artists that Quill had introduced her to. Though between Magnus and Baby she couldn't exactly say she wasn't getting a full education.

She also appreciated the fact that her co-worker didn't always need to talk, but now he had chosen to break the companionable silence, she gave a nod to her display before turning to face him and give Baby her full attention. ]

What kind of game?

"Curiosity, always curiosity, Lady Gamora," he says with a sleek smile, shifting to lean forward on folded arms next to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you in the flesh." He'd been intrigued by their conversation about the Collector, but it wouldn't do to seem too eager. Instead, he watches the skaters passing them by. Newer skaters appear to linger on the edges, and the more advanced skaters weave in and out.

"You are skilled at this, for having learned it here," he says conversationally, "though I do see your point about the difficulties of learning on a ship. I have most recently been on a ship that might have accommodated such things, had it not been so crowded."

"I'm no lady," came Gamora's automatic response even if she still had a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Loki was as charming in person as he could be in text, and that made her all the more wary. The first flag had been knowing the Collector. The second was the fact that he was the first person since she'd arrived that had managed to make her forget - just for a moment - about Quill. "Likewise."

Her smile grew as she debated something internly, feet still moving in her skates even if she wasn't about to go anywhere. "It's possible I knew how to dance before I knew how to use these things. It's not hard to pick up if you have the dexterity. I'm sure an Asgardian wouldn't have any issues."

And then she caught the last of what he had said and her head cocked as she couldn't hide her curiosity. "I didn't think Asgardians spent a lot of time on ships."

For whatever reason, Frank had thought that here in a strange place he might be able to get some proper sleep for once. But one restless, sleepless night bled into the next, a long neverending nightmare plaguing him until he was back to his old coffee-chugging and time-killing habits.

One of the first places his exhausted legs ended up carrying to when his ears wouldn't stop ringing after his wife's blood splattered all over his cheeks and her body fell lifelessly in his arms was the animal shelter. There was a black dog with a bandaged leg sporting a few scars that was moping around in one of the end cages, ignoring most of the prospective adopters, watching Frank suspiciously.

He took to the mutt straightaway, watching it curiously like a hawk. He was down on one knee in dirty old jeans and a clean black shirt and didn't appear to notice the approaching green woman he had an unfortunate first encounter with.

Gamora had just turned from a cage containing a very large Rottweiler and paused as she saw her (least) favourite customer. The dog was still trying to lick her fingers curled around the mesh of his cage and Gamora turned back briefly to give him a smile before taking a step towards Castle.

And then another and another as she debated whether or not she actually wanted to say something. The dog she was now standing in front of started to yap and she glared at it before pushing out a breath.

"Are you armed this time?" She couldn't see a gun, but that didn't mean there wasn't one. And this time she at least wanted to know before it was pulled on her.

The way Frank's hand moved to his pocket as he turned his head, back moving instinctively to protect the downtrodden stray before he'd even met her gaze should have answered her question. Maybe he wasn't walking around with a handgun but he wasn't foolish enough to go out unarmed.

No gun in that pocket though. Just an oblong bulge too thick to be a phone that she could guess he'd prefer using up close.

"Heh." Rough luck Frankie boy. He ducked his head and moved to stand, straightening up to meet her at eye level. Even though he looked shit tired, if she came for a fight he'll bring it straight to her face.

"What's it to you? Granola or- whatever?" Granola, Gondola. Same thing.

"Gamora." Her lips twitched in the corner just a little bit. Not that she completely understood why that particular mistake with her name was so funny. But her eyes didn't leave his pocket even when he stood.

She shifted to fold her arms under her chest, and reconsidered whether or not she needed to walk around with a blade. She shouldn't have to. She had felt safe in this city.

"I just wanted to know if I was about to be attacked again without cause." Being green wasn't a cause as far as she was concerned. She hadn't actually done anything to Frank other than try and be nice. "Or if there was a chance of a civil conversation."

"'Without cause'? You're fucking green." New York's encounter with aliens hadn't been pleasant and, well, combined with the fact that the only green thing that moved back home was an uncontrollable destructive force four times her size that just kept on smashing, suffice to say Frank didn't like her face.

"I got nothin' to say to you." It wasn't a patronising or dismissive look in his eyes - no matter what colour she was she hadn't done anything to him yet to warrant anything more than a defiant glint in his irises and his semi-permanent bitchface. Just because he knew she wasn't following him didn't mean he'd let his guard down.

"Right. Thank you, I wasn't actually aware of the colour of my flesh." Gamora used to think that Drax had the honour of being the biggest jerk on a first meeting, but Castle was quickly catching up and poised to take his place. Drax had a better cause for hostility at least. Thanos had killed his family.

She unfolded her arms and held up her hands, palm towards him. "Then don't. But this city isn't big enough to keep avoiding each other. Eventually paths will cross like now. I shouldn't have to keep checking to see if you're somewhere I want to be." It took every inch of control not to sneer at him just because he was really starting to get under her green skin. "Or you could just hit me and get it out of your system."

He didn't think she'd take it so personally as to - what, intentionally avoid him because they didn't seem destined to get along? Maybe he wouldn't mind being left to his own devices, but his bucket of icy-cold hostility was liberally dished out to most people who crossed his path and she was more of the rule than an exception.

"I don't hit women." Hostile and chauvinistic. It must be her lucky day.

"You think I just- go around hittin' people because I'm, what, angry? Outta control? Don't like the colour green? You think they'd let someone like who you think I am loose in a place like this?"

Gamora wasn't a stranger to being hated, but she had to admit that it was never because she was of a particular species. It was a new feeling after living her life out in the wider galaxy. She didn't particularly care for it. She was beginning to suspect his personality was just something she was going to need to accept.

Or not.

She almost laughed at his acknowedging that she was a woman. At least that was a positive step. "Why, because you don't think they can hit back?"

Gamora gave a shake of her head. "Honestly, I'm not going to pretend I know anything about this place other than I like the food, the music, and the plumbing. You obviously have a problem with what I am. I'm just trying to fix it."

"Because-... because that's how I was raised. Because that's not how women should be treated. What kinda question's that? Some guy been smackin' you 'round?" he found himself asking. Maybe Frank wasn't the definition of chivalrous and he was nothing like the shining example of one of Earth's more toxic species, but for better or worse there were lines he tried his best not to cross. If any hesitation on his part ended up with consequences he couldn't hope to bear, then he'll just have to live with those nightmares on top of all the other burdens that he had on his shoulders.

"It's the kind of question you ask when you're trying to work out if someone is a threat, or not. Or what kind of man he is." He did at least have something in his upbringing then that was redeemable. Though she knew her own was far from free of sin. But she had Thanos to blame for what she was. Who she had been.

"Not in the way you assume. I can hold my own." Gamora shrugged it off. Any fights she had been in lately were largely due to saving the galaxy. Occasionally they were because of something stupid one of her crew did.

"Plenty of men full of horseshit. You can only judge 'em by what they do." She didn't seem new around these parts - not as new as he was, for sure - but if she didn't know that about people in general then she'll be needing a lot more advice than that to navigate around humans.

Of course, he wasn't here to impart his pearls of wisdom. Casting a glance at ~~his~~ the dog he'd been eyeing up - I'll be back for you later bud - he refocused his attention back on Gamora before taking a small step backwards.

"Nice catching up," he said wryly, clearly intent on leaving if she didn't take the hint and carry on first.

"Aren't you? Good." Loki's smile turns sharply flirtatious for a long moment before he reels it back in. She is lovely, and covered in sharp edges, which he's always found more alluring than he ought to. This wouldn't be the first or the hundredth time it had gotten him into trouble.

He leans back to give her a more assessing look as she admits to being a dancer, and nods. "Anyone so well-versed in combat would have little trouble mastering dance, or this strange off-shoot. I'm certain your dexterity leaves little to be desired."

But the easy flirtation stutters as her last comment lands and a flash of real emotion darts across his face. "Asgardians will have no choice but to spend time on ships now," he says more quietly, "until they can discover their new world. Asgard is destroyed."

"Oh?" Gamora couldn't help the way she seemed to return his smile even if it was brief. Flirting was still a little lost on her as far as returning it went. She could at least recognise it, and her curiousity was certainly piqued by Loki. "Do you have plans for me already, Silvertongue?"

"You're very good at reading people, aren't you?" Of course she was well-versed in combat. Thanos and Ronan had trained her to be a Galaxy Class Killer. Dancing was an escape, and one she didn't share with many people from the start. Yes, Loki was definitely going to be trouble for her.

After a moment Gamora moved to cover his hand with her own as she gave it a small squeeze. She didn't let the touch linger, but she was sympathetic. How could she not be? "I'm so sorry. I'm the last of my kind. I know what it is to lose your people. Your world."

Gamora snorted in amusement even if there was no smile to reflect it. She knew there were plenty of men full of horseshit. Just because she had asked, it didn't mean she wasn't also cataloguing each and every one of his actions. At least he hadn't actually pulled his weapon out this time.

She looked past him to the dog he had clearly been intent on and finally gave a shake of her head. "Don't leave. You've made your choice already, I haven't yet found a pet I wish to adopt."

Gamora held her hands again, feeling like each move she made had to prove that she wasn't about to attack him as she started to edge towards the exit with careful and precise steps. At lease Drax, Rocket or Groot weren't around. She was pretty sure that Castle would have reacted even less kindly towards them. "I look forward to hearing what you name them."

He catches lightly at her fingers and dips his head to brush his lips against her knuckles before releasing her with a knowing smile. He has no concrete plans yet, but she is lovely, vibrant, fascinating already. He would certainly not be opposed to crafting plans involving her.

And it is far easier to do this than acknowledge the yawning ache of loss. He is not the last of his kind, but he has felt alone in the universe regardless.

"Thank you," he says. "I am sorry as well that you, too, know that pain. I would be honored if you would tell me more of yourself. Over dinner some evening, perhaps?"

He has her fingers before she can pull away, or tell him not to touch her. Gamora is not great with unexpected physical contact, but Loki has a charm that out does even Peter's and she can't find a voice for a second or a reason to tell him to stop.

It almost makes her want to reach over and grab him by the front, but she just looks down at her hand and the rings on her fingers as she tries to see if they hold some kind of answer as to why she's so willing to fall under his spell.

"I like dinner," Gamora responded before she gave a huff of laughter at her own inept respone and managed to hold his gaze again. "If you tell me whether or not you actually can dance, and what you know of music. And if you promise to not be offended if I don't tell you everything over one meal."

[ Pulling out from the back room, Baby strolled through the main space until he got to the till, jumping up to sit on the counter next to it, feet swishing but never banging against the wood panel. He leans in, elbows on his knees, and smiles. ]

Two truths and a lie. You ever played it? Self-explanatory. You tell to truths about yourself, and a lie, and I have to guess which one is the lie. You game?

[ Gamora shifted to lean back against one of the displays, legs crossed at the annkles as she tried not to also cross her arms and seem completely closed off to the idea.

She wasn't. She just tended to be careful about what people learned about her. Though Baby was a lot like Magnus in that Gamora knew he wasn't a threat. He was just pleasant to be around - in that not talkative way. ]

You would also tell two truths and a lie? So we'd take turns?

[ She went quiet again, before finally giving a nod. ]

Yes, I'm game. I have an adopted sister. I have cybernetic enhancements. I can cook.

"Oh, I would insist you preserve your mystery beyond one shared meal," Loki says immediately. "I would much prefer to tease it from you."

He doesn't wink. Winking would have softened it. Instead he holds her eyes for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then smiles and looks away first, watching the skaters passing them again. "I can dance. But I know little of music beyond Asgard. I hope that does not lower me in your estimation."

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Gamora | MCU | OTA

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action; @b-sides

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Best Friends Rescue (blood/PTSD)

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