strangetrip | [GP/EP] Check-in Day

It was a musical day at the Madonna Inn, both inside and out. Curnen had taken her usual place up on the roof and was singing charms to the sky to keep any wanderers from getting lost (though that part of it was not immediately obvious). Unrelated to that, Sunny was on the dance floor in the bar, summoning songs of her own with her knife to keep her moving before she went to do her shift at the library later. It was one of those days where if she thought about it too hard she’d start thinking about that empty bed in her shitty room and the person she most wanted to be there.

This of course eventually seeped into her magic. She knew better. Maybe she’d even wanted that to happen.

Because just once, between different pop hits and dance beats came a rather unexpected French love song. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the exasperation didn’t last. Before the lyrics started up she was waltzing. By herself and not caring how it might have looked. And for those three and a half minutes, she dared let herself hope for the slimmest chance that Orlu might come through that door.

She didn’t let herself hope too hard, though. There was admitting to feeling things and there was setting yourself up for certain disappointment. She’d lived too long with disappointment to do that to herself.

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To be friendly and also because it wasn’t like he couldn’t get more, Rocket poured Quill a drink. Somehow he’d ended up with multiple glasses when he hadn’t needed any, but it came in handy. “I met Spider-kid, a redhead in the kitchen, an’ a few others. Bomb girl. Whatever. You’ll do okay here pretty sure. So far most people‘ ever done okay with me.” And Rocket knew he was way harder to get along with than Quill.

Quill would normally ask if the red-head was hot, but he didn't. He took the list of people in and filed them away even though Rocket's descriptions were unhelpful.

"Are you saying people here might actually like you?" He asked with interest and a slight squint for emphasis.

"Right? Fuckin' morons." Rocket went to a fair amount of effort not to be anything resembling charming or likeable. "But yeah. At least four... and a half people. Could be higher, I dunno." The spider-kid, bomb girl, Snow, Pike probably, and the half was Regina. Because she liked bitching at him and vice versa.

"That's got to be a record, dude." Quill said, almost proud. He smiled and added with praise as if for a child, "Look at you and your personal growth."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a regular social whatever fuckin' bug that is." He decided, in that moment, not to mention that he'd had at least that many, if not more, contacts and friends back in Gotham, but only two of them were at the Inn.

Of course, it probably was true that he'd gotten soft-ish. He blamed Sanctuary for that shit. "Don't get the wrong idea, Quill. Some places you gotta threaten to tear apart anybody who looks at ya funny, an' then do it a coupla times. This place don't work like that. S'too small."

"No, of course," He said in a serious tone with a 'this is me being serious' face and a nod. "You're still a bad ass who hates most people. I won't forget that, don't worry."

Quill couldn't help wanting to smile. Maybe here Rocket might be happy. If only Groot would appear.

"Don't you worry either, Quill, you still get ta be the nice one. I'm sure I'll piss people off eventually." Sooner rather than later, historically speaking. But that was Quill's role - he was the nice one, the charming one, the one everybody liked just enough to keep everybody in line.

"As long as we don't have to take on the entire Inn at some point, then you do you, dude" Quill said, meaning it.

Rocket didn't have to like people just because they were stuck somewhere. Part of why Quill liked Rocket was for Rocket's independence and attitude.

"You planning on getting a job here like people keep suggesting?" he asked.

"Pfft, no. I'm just gonna do whatever I want an' if that ends up lookin' like a job I don't care." That had worked well enough with the Guardians, as far as he knew, anyway. He fixed things, built things, flew the ship sometimes. It wasn't consistent enough to be a job, it was just the pile of shit Rocket did when he felt like it. "Why, you lookin' for gainful employment or whatever?"

"What? No." He said with a scoff. "Not unless the work is cool and then maybe. But I'm not going to sling burgers or anything."

A beat as he considered.

"Maybe I could see myself becoming a masseuse," He said. "For chicks only."

"Yeah, that's realistic." It wasn't, in Rocket's opinion. "That's exactly what females want, bein' groped by strange amateurs who get more outta it than they do."

He frowned.

"Maybe you're right," Quill said, dreams crushed.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, I'm going to figure out something." He said. "Or I'll probably go crazy."

"...Future tense?" Rocket asked, a little exaggerated with the skepticism to make it clear this was supposed to be funny, not seriously meant.

Quill pouted at Rocket like he always did when he as pretending to be hurt from something he said.

"You know, you're lucky I have great self-esteem." he said as if in warning. "Or I'd have to start taking everything personally."

"Oh no, Quill! Your face'd stick like that an' we'd actually have to make those signs sayin' I'm not braindead I'm just pouting!" Rocket even went so far in his fake-horror to clutch at an imaginary necklace. "D'you know how ineffective those'd be? We'd have to fuckin' swap'em out every new planet for the local language. I'd have to learn fuckin' vernacular!"

He suddenly smiled.

"Ah, buy you guys totally would," He said as if this was redeeming. "Which means you do care which means one day we're going to have a group hug and even though you'll grumble, I know you'll enjoy it."

Quill looked quite pleased with himself, like he came to some universal truth on his own.

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

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