strangetrip | Check-In: Not-Mother Hen

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Check-In: Not-Mother Hen

Kitty sat at the bar with a cup of coffee and her notebook, watching the 'welcoming committee' make themselves busy. Liz was here, as she'd promised Kitty she would be and Kitty gave her a quick smile of encouragement.

One of the worst things about Check-In Days was that you never knew whether it'd be a whole long day of no one arriving, one spectacular fall from the ceiling and dropping dead after another, or anything in between. It made it hard to know what to do with yourself. After awhile, you got used to it and just kept on with whatever you'd do otherwise, and know that if you didn't step up for a new arrival, someone else would. But for someone not used to treating it like a responsibility to be here, especially someone with Liz's anxious need to be perfect at it, Check-In Day could be emotionally exhausting.

So Kitty made sure to have milk warmed for hot cocoa and her plans for the obstacle course handy in case Liz needed something to do with herself. Otherwise, she was working on a modification of Cerebro to see if she could start detecting new arrivals.

[ooc: Regular check-in day gathering post. If you want Kitty, ping me.]

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Some days Rocket preferred solitude. This was not one of those days, so he yanked the alarm clock out of his room and took it with him to the cafe, where he proceeded to take it apart and spread the bits all over a table, effectively claiming a booth for his sole use.

Unusually he didn't have a bottle of something - yet - but seemed wholly engrossed in what he was doing with a bizarre knot of wires and a simple circuit board.

Something that no doubt looked familiar was tossed onto Rocket's table, dispersing some of the parts that Rocket had already disassembled. Rocket's latest paint bomb had been found and deactivated - Alec had excelled at bombs back in Manticore.

"Sorry, I just don't think pink is my colour."

"Yeah? Y'ask me, I woulda thought it'd work. You're pink already, so it matches an' shit." Rocket was absolutely not unwilling to accept the return of the bomb, in fact he made short work of it, grouping its parts with other parts and setting its paint payload aside.

And of course, he wasn't going to admit anything straight out. What was the point? "I hope ya don't think a fuckin' present gets ya anything. I don't trust suckups."

"Oh darn. You saw right through my plot. Whatever will I do." He deadpanned it the entire way, then shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. "You keep getting enough friendly fire from those things and even the kid will start to be pissed off." Probably only at Alec, but whatever. "Pretty sure it took them like an hour at least to get all the green paint off of Liz."

"Sounds rough, baldy. Also sounds like human stuff. Wouldn't know, I ain't human." Rocket disconnected a couple of wires in his mess, reconnected them differently, then casually bit the back of his hand like it itched. "Thank fuck for that, right?"

"Yeah, I agree. Humans are pretty boring." And since he wasn't one, not really, he wasn't lying at all. Logan, for example, was super boring... even if maybe he kind of missed hearing about some pre-pulse vineyard wine pairing to some fancy French dinner he was making. "I wonder how long it would take to get glitter out of fur. Or is it hair? Pelt?"

"Oooh, self-burn. Those're rare." Not as rare as they should be. "But hey, maybe you'll get the chance to take a stopwatch into the bathroom while you wash sometime. Live in hope, asshole."

That got a stubborn eye-roll from Alec. "You should just be lucky there's no one here wants to wear you as a hat." Why Rocket got under his skin so much, he didn't know.

“Better’n bein’ lucky nobody's that fuckin’ desperate for shitty leather.” Rocket replied cheerfully enough. Humie skin probably made awful leather, right? Thin-skinned gangly assholes.

"I don't know.. I can think of at least one body part most women would probably like having a portable version of mine." Yep, he went there. And yes, he was ignoring basic biology.

Rocket rolled his eyes. Trust a humie to go straight to his gonads. Like that floppy shit was worth anybody’s time. “Congratulations on knowin’ a lotta women that prefer snacks to meals. An’ on bein’ comfy with that.”

"Aw, jealousy doesn't look good on you." He pretended to look sad as if he were worried for Rocket. "One day you'll be a real boy too, don't worry."

Rocket shrugged. "Y'know, sensible species that keep their gonads on the inside worry about'em way fuckin' less. But on account'a your stupid-ass species, you gotta project your weird cocktail hors d'oeuvre li'l pinkie shit on the rest of us. Sing a new song, Tweetie Bird," thank you Quill for your endless Earth culture puke, "this one's only makin' you look an' sound like a moron, an' you need zero help with that."

For the briefest of moments Alec had to wonder the logistics of Rocket and someone else at the inn and he had to stop himself before he went to the pool shed and drowned his brain in bleach. Rocket's pop culture reference, however, was lost of Alec, though the sentiment was clear.

"This is one of those 'agree to disagree, but you're actually wrong' things." Alec thought his penis was fantastic, thank you.

He paused, arms crossing over his chest. "Just do one thing - keep the kids out of it? If I have to see him pout about how his girlfriend's clothes are ruined, then we're going to have a real problem here."

"No idea what you're talkin' about, humie." Rocket's tone was still cheerful enough, and why not? Just because the guy needed to die before he started to Get Ideas didn't mean it couldn't be fun swapping insults with him until the lack of creativity got boring. "How could I? I ain't human. Nothin' I do matters. So since this matters, it's clearly got fuck-all t'do with me. That's called logic."

"Good, as long as we understand each other." Because that was how Alec decided to interpret Rocket's answer. If his interpretation turned out wrong and the raccoon started targeting the kids, then things would probably escalate.

Alec took a step away. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go inform the chef it's feeding time for the forest animals."

Re: Alec/Rocket

st_ripetail - 2018-06-24 06:37 (UTC) - Expand

"Rabbit!"

The word comes out sounding like an exclamation of delight -- and that's because it is. Thor is overjoyed at the sight of the raccoon. Finally, a familiar face here in this sea of strangers!

"You're here!"

Immediately, Thor barrels towards him; he drops Stormbreaker down on the table where it lands hard enough to shake it and the clock parts on it, then pulls Rocket into his arms.

Thor is truly grateful.

Rocket didn't even twitch, much less look up, when the yell of 'Rabbit!' sounds across the cafe. It was obviously not intended for him, it wasn't his name or species, and he was taking apart a switch. It needed more attention than some shrieking dumbass.

And then something big thumped down on his table among his parts and he was engulfed in... fuck, someone was hugging him like he was a goddamn plush toy. Rocket was too surprised for a few seconds to do anything but go limp, a personification of what the fuck is this.

Then he twisted and snarled, "DO YOU HAVE A FUCKING DEATH WISH?" It was hard to sound truly enraged and dangerous while being snuggled, but he gave it a shot.

Thor lets out a bark of laughter at Rocket's exclamation. "It's like we never left Nidavellir!" Rocket had asked him if he had a death wish then, too.

Thor sets Rocket back down, but his grin never leaves his face. He's genuinely, completely and utterly delighted to see Rocket again; in fact, it takes all his self-control not to pick him up and hug him a second time.

Nidavellir? Place where all the best weapons got made? Rocket was absolutely certain he'd have remembered going to what was essentially one of his top ten dream vacation spots.

And yet this gigantic blond human-looking guy was grinning at him and Rocket was absolutely certain that despite the fact that that expression had never in all of reality been turned on him (no one had ever been that happy to see him, though Quill had come close when they'd met up here at the Inn) there was no mistaken identity bullshit happening.

Which meant this guy was someone he hadn't met yet. Logically, anyway. Could've been someone from far back and Rocket had forgotten, but again: Nidavellir. He'd have remembered. That joy would have lasted... a real long time.

He shook himself to try and un-fluff fur that had poofed out a little at the unexpected hug attack. "More like I never went there. Don't suppose I'm lucky enough you got the speechifyin' about time shit already?"

"You never went there?" he repeats slowly. Thor genuinely looks confused. It's only once Rocket mentions time that the gears in his head starts turning. The long-haired man mentioned people from many worlds appeared here.

It wouldn't be too far of a stretch to imagine that they might come from different times.

"So you don't remember it. Not Nidavellir or our journey there."

Or him.

"Nope. Though I wish I fuckin' did, 'cause I would very much like to go to there." So many weapons. And because the guy was clearly quicker on the uptake than most (reasoning from 'time shit' to the right conclusion) and equally clearly hadn't heard the thing, Rocket added to confirm, "It happens, ya know? People end up here from the same place but not the same time. Quill - you know Quill? he's around, so if you don't you will - he's from after me, too. Time shit."

"Oh!" Thor exclaims, with considerable joy. He hadn't seen Quill since they'd each gone their different ways -- Quill and the rest of the morons to Knowhere, he to Nidavellir. "So the moron is here as well."

"That one is." No lie, it was hilarious to hear Quill referred to as 'the moron' like that was his defining characteristic. Which it was! But most people would go with 'the human' or 'Star-lord' if they wanted to suck up for some reason.

And also no lie, it was nice to have a little more evidence that this actually was somebody from Rocket's future. And that 'joy' seemed to be he big guy's default when faced with even the concept of people he knew. "None'a the others yet. And I dunno if he's from the sameish time as you."

Thor lets out a light laugh. "Might be better if he doesn't remember me," he says. Not only because of the whole Thanos thing, but also --

"We didn't exactly hit it off." Thor gestures vaguely to his throat. "He kept trying to copy my voice."

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Check-In: Not-Mother Hen

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