video; @star.lord

[nostalgiabomb]

[ INT. Shared Housing, Floor 13, Room 4 – Very Late Night.

We open on a shot of the living space in one of the many shared housing units. It's dark in the messy room, with a couple of red jackets tossed onto the backs of chairs. Nearby, soft snores are audible.

In frame is a small, wooden creature, his giant eyes squinting with concentration as he stares at the screen. An old, beat-up mp3 player and a Sony Walkman sit beside him on the coffee table. The little creature mumbles a tiny, irritated— ]

I am Groot?

[ —in the same tone of voice someone else might use to ask, “How the hell do you work this thing?” He pokes at the screen fruitlessly for a while, but soon enough, his eyes light up as he shoves his hand forward one last time.

Suddenly, “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by the illustrious AC/DC shrieks over stereo speakers.

DONE. DIRT. CHEAP.

Sorry about your beauty sleep, Floor 13. And probably Floors 12 and 14.

The sapling yelps, scrambling and panicking to figure out how to stop this crazy thing, just as a sleep-tousled Star-Lord stumbles into frame, flicking on a light. Barely audible over the music, ]

Groot, what are you—?

[ Busted.

Peter picks up the device, sees that it’s recording, and he grimaces. ]

Oh, son of a—

[ Which is when the feed and the music both cut out. ]

Comments

[nostalgiabomb]

I mean, that's possible? But you probably wouldn't have heard of me back on Earth. [ She mentioned she was Russian, after all. ] New doesn't travel quite that far.

And— [ It pains him to admit this. ] —I've mostly been keepin' my head down around here, so.

[latrodectus]

Or I could be psychic.

[ A pause. ]

The truth is, I've been keeping my head down, too.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He lets out a small, acknowledging sound, staring down at the device in his hand. His thumb runs over the edge of it, and he chews on the inside of his cheek for a second or two, then, ]

Have we met?

[ In that uncertain way that says he's not entirely sure if he wants to hear the answer.

He's heard about folks from parallel worlds? Alternate universes, he guesses? Places that were similar, but wildly different. Like Angela, a while ago, before she disappeared, who seemed to know exactly who he and Gamora were, even if they had no idea who she was. ]

[latrodectus]

You, specifically?

[ It's an odd question. But this was an odd circumstance. ]

No.

[nostalgiabomb]

... Ah.

[ In a slightly knowing way. This is still slightly unsteady ground, but Peter feels like he’s starting to find his footing. ]

Like, a version of me, then?

[latrodectus]

I'm not really psychic.

[ That's an X-Men thing. But you can take that as confirmation. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ ... Yeah, that's more or less a yes, and Peter sighs. ]

If it helps, this isn't the first time it's happened.

Asgardian lady named Angela. She seemed to know me, but I didn't know the first thing about her. Made it kinda awkward.

[latrodectus]

I've never met her.

[ Though she does know who she is. It's interesting, though, most of the other people from other worlds that echo hers would recognize her own username. ]

I'm Natasha, by the way.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The response is automatic: ]

Peter—

[ —wait, no. This is dumb. And while he's not on camera, he still pauses to wrinkle his nose at himself.

A little lamely, ]

... But you already knew that. Right.

[latrodectus]

[ She doesn't quite laugh at his misstep, but she does sound a little amused. ]

If it helps, I don't like it either.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A pause. ]

I’m not sure if that’s an insult.

[ not that he sounds insulted in the slightest, but, hey, it’s worth pointing out. ]

[latrodectus]

Insults are a matter of perspective, just like everything else.

[ When in doubt, be even vaguer. ]