video; @gamora

[godslay]

[ When the camera switches on, Gamora is in her apartment, Godslayer across her lap (diligently cleaned and freshly oiled), and she’s holding her communicator with her usual unreadable expression in place. ]

I want to expand my training opportunities. Those looking to spar or test their abilities – I want a challenge.

[ And with a slight lift of her brow— ]

Or let me know if you simply want others to practice with. Tell me how you prefer to fight, and we can work something out.

[ What a friendly and welcoming message.

… Except definitely the opposite of that.

Gamora is working on that “reaching out” thing, on trying to get a better idea of who and what surrounds her in the city, and she might as well use it as a chance to stretch her legs and potentially come up against a worthy opponent or two. ]

Comments

[godslay]

[ The look she gives him isn't necessarily as flat as the ones before, but equally unimpressed. ]

You wouldn't tell me if you were worried.

[ They've both done their fair share of sweeping things under the rug (lately, and in general), so the comment isn't biting this time, not a criticism, but more... fact, as she sees it. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He opens his mouth to respond, though the words don't immediately come.

She... sort of has a point, he has to admit, and he falters for a second, gaze darting to the coffee table. Eventually, he gives a quick shrug. ]

Well, I'm telling you now that I'm not. So that's gotta count for something.

[godslay]

Would you tell me if it was something other than worry?

[ Whatever that heaviness is that she saw the last time they talked about Ego, when he told her about the Walkman. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Another shrug. ]

Yeah. Sure. I guess if it was a big enough deal.

[godslay]

[ She studies him for a long, drawn-out moment (that intense look she gets when she's trying to pick him apart with her eyes), and then, finally, she shrugs. ]

All right.

[ When she speaks again, there isn't much in the way of levity, but it's a change of subject, a proffered out, ]

You are still not invited if you bring anything that resembles a pom-pom.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He endures that look — thanks to his adamantly not making direct eye contact, because nothing would have made him fall apart faster, if he's honest – and when she changes the subject, he lets out a breath. He casts her a quick, grateful smile. ]

What if they're really small.

[godslay]

If they're small enough that I can't see them, then fine.

[ But given how good her eyesight is, that would have to be very, very small. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Well, that's impossible. You could see an ant scratching its head in the dark.

[godslay]

Then I suppose that means you won't have any pom-poms.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He heaves out a dramatic sigh, flopping back on the couch. ]

Fine.

I'll just bring air horns instead.

[godslay]

If you're going to be disruptive, you should just stay at work.

[ Since she's going to be sparring at the training facilities for the Guard. It would make it easier for Peter to drop in, but also easier for him to shoo him off in the proper direction. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He snorts out a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. ]

Fine. I won't bring air horns. Can I at least bring popcorn, still?

[godslay]

I assume you can eat that quietly.

[ The key here is clearly to be quiet. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A shrug. ]

Sure.

I can throw it pretty quietly, too.

[godslay]

And now you're uninvited.

[ Why are her teammates children. Why. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He raises both hands, palms flat in a gesture of surrender. ]

Joke. Joking. I'm not gonna throw popcorn while you're sparring.

[godslay]

Good.

Otherwise, you might find it much more difficult to throw popcorn with broken wrists.

[ Who knows if it's a real threat.

(Probably not.) ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ There's a bit of a pause, as he lets his hands fall to his lap. Then, ]

Just as a suggestion, maybe try being a little nicer before you jump straight into the threats of bodily harm.

[godslay]

I was nicer, and you insisted on pom-poms.

[ ... "Nicer" is clearly a relative concept here. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Because I was trying to be enthusiastic.

[godslay]

And you can be enthusiastic before and after, without pom-poms.

We can get dinner or something when I'm through.

[ Is that date-ish? It might be. A little. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His gaze flits over to her, almost surprised, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. ]

So does that mean I'm re-invited?

Just so we're on the same page, obviously.

[godslay]

[ She really does like that smile that creeps onto his face, and she can feel one mirrored on her own. She ducks her head, glancing off to the side – though that smile isn't quite smothered. ]

As long as there are no pom-poms, air horns, or porncorn-throwing, yes, you are re-invited.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He heaves out an overly dramatic sigh, throwing both hands into the air in a gesture of surrender. ]

Fine. It totally takes the fun out of watching you beat the crap out of folks, but fine.

[godslay]

If it's not fun, you don't have to go.

[ She crosses her arms over her chest, glancing back at him with that smile wrangled down in favor of a lifted brow. ]