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

[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. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He meets her look with narrowed eyes. ]

Can I at least take bets still?

[godslay]

[ Gamora tilts her head, momentarily considering. She did shoot down most of his other absurd options, and considering taking bets could mean a little extra money for the both of them (and people will hardly be cheated out of anything for it), she finally nods. ]

Fine, you can take bets.

But I want 70%.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His expression scrunches up a little at that. ]

That seems like a conflict of interest.

[godslay]

Why? I'm the one doing the fighting.

[ So, clearly, she should get something out of it. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Well, I mean, there's always the off-chance where you're, like, not favored to win...

[godslay]

And if you win anything off of that, I want a cut.

[ Though Gamora's competitiveness means she doesn't much care for the idea of being less than favored to win. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

See? That’s what I’m talking about! Conflict of interest. I don’t want you to, like, throw the fight if you think you’re gonna get a cut of the profits no matter what.

[godslay]

[ That sure does earn him the flattest of flat looks. ]

You think I would ever throw a fight?

[ ... Unless someone's life was on the line or it was for the purpose of a mission, but in a low-risk competition? Absolutely not – and especially not for money. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He holds up both hands – placating, rather than surrendering. ]

Hey. I’m just saying, it’s all about appearances.

[godslay]

If you're going to be there, and you're going to bet, you're going to pay me.

[ Simple. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He studies her with narrowed eyes for a second, almost challenging. Then, ]

... As long as you don’t tell anyone you're getting a cut.

And we split it fifty-fifty.

[godslay]

[ She meets that challenge with her own intense stare, as moveable as a brick wall. ]

Sixty-forty.

And then I won't tell anyone.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He holds her gaze for a second longer. ]

... Deal.

[ And he punctuates it by holding a hand out to her. ]

[godslay]

[ Gamora glances down at his hand thoughtfully, not immediately taking it. ]

And I want dinner afterwards.

[ With the clear implication of, "You're buying." ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He pulls his hand back a fraction, eyes narrowing as he takes this under consideration. ]

Only if you pay tip.

[godslay]

[ She looks like she's thinking it over for a moment longer, and then: ]

Deal.

[ And this time, she extends her hand to him. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He takes one last second to think it over, but he takes her hand at last. With his other hand, though, he points at her, almost in warning. ]

Tell no one about this.

[godslay]

You have my word.

[ Besides, it's in her best interests to keep it to herself.

Though as she takes her hand back, she lifts a brow at him, not quite smiling. ]

Are you still going to take bets when you and I spar?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter could make a joke here – could point out the fact that he, at least, didn’t threaten to, like, break her spine or whatever – but he’s interrupted by that shadow of a smile, that challenging sort of look. His eyes narrow again, and at her question, he pulls a face. ]

Why would we spar? I’m not the one looking for a fight.

[godslay]

You could use the practice.

[ And she says it like a simple fact, certainly not as a suggestion. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A touch defensively, ]

I'm doing just fine, thank you very much.