Voice with possible action. (kinda forward-dated a little maybe?) username: ilikehorses

[shoplifter]

[Well, look. Whenever she gets invited to Alphonse's future birthday, she's got a lot to think about.

She must consider this: there will be cake, that is a certainty. Cake sitting on a table, like in Transigen... in front of a deceptive cartoon painting on the wall; ways to trick outsiders into thinking the place is kind to its patients... She's learned at that facility that cake is a staple of birthdays, or rather, from the nurses. Birthdays involve singing, and they all learned the words for Delilah. All for Delilah. But they weren't allowed to have those parties, not after the first and last time; she never bothered asking about them again, because... she knew there would be nothing beyond the question. It wasn't difficult to tell what blowing out the candles and leading them away meant.

She had whispered happy birthday to Delilah on the way out, though.

Really, she's not sure just how normal those birthday choices even were. Outside of the walls of Transigen, what is a birthday like? Is there still cake? Still the concept of presents, or singing? Did the nurses want to try and do something nice but ultimately fantasy? Like Logan had said, ice-cream for bedwetters. She's curious to learn, though. So again, she uses the network for her own gain: this time, birthday information, instead of school.

(I'm sensing a pattern.)

Her voice is casual, but interested. She's not about to ruin the surprise, but she does need to know what she's getting herself into, here.]

What sort of presents are you supposed to give people, for their birthday?

... Toys, no?

[What the hell do adults like to get, for presents? A long pause, and she's not terribly sure of herself.]

Are there fireworks at birthday parties, too?

[Another thoughtful pause, yet again.]

... How do you tell what day you were born? Is it on a special paper?

[Okay, okay, last question there. She bites back more questions. Easy, Laura, easy.]


[ ADDITIONAL ACTION.]

[If you would like to find her out and about, she is wandering the shops for things that might be nice to give to the birthday boy, especially the department stores. Laura also puts on a cool hat and goes to leave without paying for it, of course, so she can be found getting approached by a very unhappy security guard there who is calling out something about a shoplifter. Look ma, it's my username!

... What? Just because she's getting better at being in the real world doesn't mean she's learned the virtue of paying for things.

Her dad stole cigars. She totally saw him do it. Cigars and a phone charger. 

Or maybe you'll find her violently shaking one of those coin-eating candy machines. Stupid thieving machine - she tried to be nice about this and use real money, and see where it got her? Never fear, she pops claws from her knuckles, long and adamantium-silver, and she slices the top of the candy machine clean off, so she can reach inside and take handfuls for her pocket. Man, living the dream over here. Don't bother asking where Linda is, we all know there's a repeating pattern of juking her.]

Comments

[nostalgiabomb]

[ That actually earns a startled glance. Maybe it's just a matter of upbringing, because the Ravagers loved money, even if they could hardly count it. But she's young by his reckoning, and maybe she was just pretty sheltered? The sort of family that didn't trust her with handling cash.

Then again, Laura didn't even know what chocolate milk was, which is, quite frankly, the first lesson in Kid 101, so a lot of signs are pointing to an unconventional upbringing.

He frowns, pensive, before filing that frankly worrying thought away for later. ]

You shouldn't steal.

[ says Peter Quill, who spent at least two decades of his life stealing. Even to him the statement sounds lame, like some schmaltzy lesson in an after school special, and he's quick to amend, ]

Or if you do, you need to be sneakier about it.

[shoplifter]

[She looks up at him from under the hood of the hat, looking oh-so-genuine in her innocent curiosity.]

How would you steal it?

[......... SO INNOCENT.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ ... Oof. He almost cringes, but he knows he totally walked himself right into that one. Salvage this, Quill. ]

I wouldn't. Steal it, I mean.

[ Not without good reason, anyway, like if someone paid him to do it. He's trying to turn over a new leaf, here. ]

Because, you know. Stealing is a crime. Super illegal. You can get into a lot of trouble for it, so you shouldn't do it.

[ "And the award for Most Convincing Lecture goes to..." ]

[shoplifter]

[She looks. So unfazed.]

But you helped me steal it.

[Doesn't that make you an accomplice, Peter Quill the Starlord.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ ... admittedly, she’s got him there. ]

I figure everyone gets one freebie, just to get it out of their system.

So! That was your one. And I hope it was worth it.

[shoplifter]

... Just one -- 'freebie'.

[She repeats it, testing the word. Sounds fake, but okay.]

You've gotten stealing out of your system?

[nostalgiabomb]

Yeah. Of course.

[ Mostly. He’s a little less likely to pick pockets, these days, even if his fingers occasionally itch for it. Old habits die hard, he guesses.

They’re a decent enough distance from the security guard, by now, and Peter risks a quick glance over his shoulder. The guard has disappeared back into the crowd, apparently having forgotten why he had chased after Laura, and Peter lets out a quick breath. ]

Looks like we lost him.

[shoplifter]

[Despite Peter's commentary, Laura hasn't thought to release his hand yet.

Handholding is nice, you know.]

What do you do now? To pay for things.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He frowns down at their joined hands for a second, uncertain, before he just rolls with it. It's probably a good idea to keep up the ruse, just in case anyone's still watching them. He keeps walking, too; there's probably a burger place nearby, if he remembers right. They should be able to dart in there without too much trouble. ]

I'm with the Perimeter Guard. I help map out the ruins.

Before we came here, I was working with a team. [ And this comes out with a touch of fondness, maybe something approaching pride. ] We helped people.

[ And also occasionally acted as exterminators, but still. ]

[shoplifter]

[Perimeter Guard. They're as close to X-Men as one can get without actually being X-Men, huh? The thought pleases her. Better that than learning something awful, like him being a scientist, or a doctor, or something potentially dangerous. But more than that, he was on a team before, too, who did good things.]

Which ones are here? From your team.

[She can totally use them to steal hats later too.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He actually forgot he had already mentioned his team to her already, because Peter is the type to spout of a bajillion words a day. He has difficulty keeping track of what he's said over the course of twenty-four hours, much less over the course of several weeks. Peter sort of sucks that way. ]

Well, we've got Mantis. She's with the Orientation Team. She's really sweet. Kinda shy and awkward, but— she's cool. She can do this thing where she can read your emotions.

[ Peter still doesn't know her very well, if he's honest, but the two of them are friends, at least, as opposed to the relative strangers they were when they first arrived. ]

And we've got Gamora. She's a captain on Search and Rescue. [ and the fact that she outranks him may or may not have been a thing over which Peter was envious, but he's largely gotten over it, by now. ] She's, like, super smart and funny, and she's such a badass. Like, back home, there was this time I saw her throw a knife clear across the room and nail a guy in the eye.

[ Is this an appropriate story to tell a child? Probably not, but still, he ends it with, ]

It was awesome.

[shoplifter]

[This is very wonderful, and clearly she is more than impressed by the story.]

I know Gamora. She's very nice -- and I like how green she is.

[Look, sometimes people are just cool on a very basic level. Being green is one of them.]

You must like her a lot, sí?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He laughs, tipping his head to one side as if in concession. ]

It's not easy being green.

[ Peter learned that one from Sesame Street. ]

And... yeah. She's fantastic.

[ with the sort of honesty that he rarely musters with anyone else. He seems to realize just how much of his hand he's tipped, whether Laura realizes it or not, and he clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Luckily, they come across the burger joint Peter remembered being here, and thankful for the distraction, he gestures at it with his thumb. ]

You want a milkshake? My treat.

[shoplifter]

[It's definitely not easy being green, okay, people are judgemental!!

She looks at him skeptically. It's not clear why at first, and he may get an impression that she's about to call him out on his obvious fondness for Gamora, but--]

What are milkshakes?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ That look and that weighty silence definitely makes him think she's going to ask more about Gamora, which probably wouldn't be the most awful thing to happen to him, but he's a little confused on the topic, himself. (That is, he's not confused on it in the slightest, because even he knows that he's crazy about her; mostly, he doesn't know how to really express any of that in words. Or at least, not in any sequence of words understandable to any sapient species.)

He lets out a sigh of relief when she asks a much easier question to answer. ]

Do you know what ice cream is?

[ which is answering a question with a question, but at least it's relevant. ]

[shoplifter]

It's cold and sweet, and it comes on a cone.

[Someone had gotten it for her, before; this bodes well, she's thinking.

... Check marking next to Peter's name for ice cream.]

[nostalgiabomb]

Or a cup, or a bowl. But yeah, you've got it.

A milkshake is like ice cream in drink form. Comes in different flavors, usually with whipped cream and a near mandatory cherry on top.

So? Want one?

[shoplifter]

[She looks a bit impish at that; what, take advantage of an adult's hospitality? Her? Never.

She gives a little nod, adjusting her cap.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He catches that look, and he narrows his eyes down at her. Laura, it seems, is far more savvy than Peter gives her credit for, and of course he knows a con job when he sees one.

But, eh. He could go for a milkshake right now, anyway. (He can always go for a milkshake.)

The restaurant is some sort of retro throwback, though a throwback to what, Peter isn't sure. He's used to '50s diners, with aggressively turquoise decor and checkerboard tiling. This place has none of that, but it does have good food. He slips into an empty booth nearby, plucking up a menu and pointing out the list of milkshakes. ]

So you've got chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, or cookies and cream. Personally? I go for chocolate, but you're welcome to pick your own poison.

[shoplifter]

.... Then I will have chocolate.

[See, look, she trusts your judgement.

You seem like someone who puts away milkshakes.

She's staring down the smiley face pancakes though. Like. Really intensely.

They're just. Very cute.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ how dare you even if it's absolutely true. ]

Good choice.

[ He doesn't miss the way he's boring a hole into the image of the pancakes, and he gives her a considering glance for a second before a waiter arrives with a friendly smile. Peter puts in the orders for two chocolate shakes, and with a slightly exasperated look at Laura, he huffs out a sigh and adds, ]

The pancakes with the face on them, too. And fries for me.

[ And when the waiter wanders off, Peter jabs an accusatory finger across the table at her. ]

Alright, kid. That was the last bit of charity from me.

1/2

[shoplifter]

[But Quill, look at how bright her smile is at the sound of that. She doesn't let it linger too long in his presence, ducking slightly behind her menu as she scopes the rest of it, feet swinging slightly under the table with a rare but newfound childish eagerness. The waitress is more than fine with letting the child keep it, since she's so keen to study it religiously.]

[shoplifter]

[Her eyes appear from over the top of the menu once more.]

What is 'bah-con'?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter, in the meantime, turns sideways in the booth, his back against the wall and one leg bent up on the cushion. He’s content to let Laura study the menu like it’s some arcane text, directing his attention to his comm device. (He may or may not be playing whatever the Quarantine equivalent of Temple Run is.)

At Laura’s question, he glances up. ]

Bacon? [ He repeats it back for clarification, not to correct her. ] It’s, uh. A kind of meat. Usually pork, I think? Salty and crispy and kinda greasy. It’s good.

[shoplifter]

[Ooooh. That makes sense. Bacon. She'll put that away in memory.]

I've had meat before, at home, but I don't know what kind it was.

[She flips through the menu as she speaks, still hidden behind its wide space.]

The food was made to keep us strong.