riverview | Entries tagged with marvel (mcu): gamora

[ Hey, you know who hasn't graced the network in a while?

This tiny monster.

You know who understands how the network works and thinks it's neat?

That same tiny monster.

When the camera clicks on, Groot is standing way too close to the screen, and all that can be seen are his gigantic, black eyes. There's a muffled, "I am Groot?" and then he's setting the communicator down and taking a few steps back until he's mostly visible from the waist up. He waves cheerfully at the camera, and then reaches offscreen to produce...

This bad boy.

He waves it around effortlessly; even if it's already extended, it's clearly near weightless. An excellent blade, all around.

Not excellent for children, however.

Offscreen, Gamora's voice sounds distant:

"Peter, have you seen my—"

Her feet appear in the camera's view, followed by a sharp, reprimanding, ]

Groot! Give that back! You're going to hurt yourself!

[ And she's stomping over to snatch away her sword.

Groot whines when Gamora takes Godslayer, and after a brief pause, the sapling is bursting into immediate, earsplitting bawling.

Sorry to anyone next door or on the adjacent floors. ]

Ugh.

[ She scoops up her communicator, too. It takes a second for her to notice that Groot turned it on, but then she clicks off the feed. ]

[ Following after that disaster: ]

Who has experience dealing with tantrums?

massivesword

All right, what do you kids do for fun around here?

[ Have a very broad man on the network, standing out even more because he's covered head to toe in red leather and has pure white hair. That combination is doing him all the favors. It seems like he's standing outside with the sky against his back. It's a nice enough view, until a bird flies up and tries to land on him. Dante waves at it with one arm. ]

Hey, get outta here. This one's taken.

[ As he shifts to regain his balance, the camera tilts at an angle to show the ground well below the point he's standing on. A smooth stone area is under one boot... apparently Dante is perching on top of one of the park's statues. He might have been better balanced if he weren't wearing a gigantic great sword on his back, but apparently he didn't think of that one. ]

Come on, where are all the good parties? A man like me needs a little excitement. H'oh, yeah, and if you notice anything weird... look me up. You'll know what I mean if you see it.

Name's Dante.

shoplifter

[The feed opens to Laura looking a little uncomfortable in her own skin — you'd think she was in trouble again or something, forced to give another on-screen admission. But nope! Trouble was totally a few days ago. She's been an angel as of late (or as close to one as a stabby mutant can be). Instead, Linda motions for her to go ahead and start her video broadcast. What for, you ask? She steels herself.]

Prijata is coming up; it is a celebration to give people things. I am not very good at it.

But we had wood-carving for the end of the year art project, so I — made some... wooden dolls for people. [She pauses, looking up again at Linda. She motions for her to continue on.] I am not very good at it yet, so the painting is not perfect. Even so, I have... made... many good friends. Friends I didn't think I would make. So... Quiero agradecer a mis amigos. I want to thank my friends.

[This is clearly something she's not used to saying. At all. And her cheeks are slightly flustered by the time she stops and she's plucking at her tattered shirt sleeve — a new visual compared to the usually cool and collected child who never seems to care enough to be embarrassed. It's just, you know. It's different when it's something you've made for someone else. And it is their faces, a face she had studied in that way of hers over the last few weeks as she worked on the project. Her bed is covered in crafting materials, a sign she'd rushed to get them done in time.

She shows them in detail, don't worry about being left in suspense. Indeed, they're all carved carefully from wooden bits, with little items and clothing pieces glued together.

The kid sits in this earnest hope that she did well enough to not be teased. It's a normal thing to do, right? Something a person does, not a science project.

She hopes it's obvious who is who:]

I can bring them to you, wherever you are... if you want yours. If you do not, I can keep them on my dresser.

[Honestly, knowing how many she made is an eye-opener for her; she didn't realize she cared about so many people here.]

.... Feliz Prijata.

[... Even if it's a bit early.]

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. ]

stantheman

Hello,

My name is Stan.

I'm just wondering what it is that you miss most about home?

trashvalkyrie

[This broadcast comes to you LIVE from outside a fancy lingerie shop, where Val and Sif are standing, both looking perplexed and a little...grumpy?

The shop employee wouldn’t let them film inside, so Val’s begrudgingly bought a few of the more offensive items on offer, purely for the purpose of figuring out what the fuck is wrong with people, y’all need Odin.

Nodding to Sif, she holds up a pair of lacy thong underwear. Her phone is propped up on a public mailbox so she can do this handsfree, waggling the offending garment in front of the camera.]

Right. What MAN decided this was a good idea? The whole point of underwear is to keep everything covered. This—this is a torture device.

And it gets worse. Sif? Show them the other thing.

[ Sif appears reluctant to even be touching the thing in her hand, but in the interest of getting some answers she is going to make the sacrifice. It’s another pair of panties, of course, this time with a zipper down the front. Said zipper gets opened, and Sif spreads the resulting hole out to really show it off to the camera.]

Is this supposed to be appealing? To anyone? These things barely exist to begin with, surely ease of access was never a problem big enough to warrant such a thing.

[Val nods emphatically.]

Fucking exactly. You guys had one job and you botched it. Not to mention— ‘push-up bras’? Why would I want to choke on my own tits? It’s completely unnecessary. If any of you have an explanation, please tell us. We want to have a good laugh about it.

[Sif simply nods at that, Val pretty much summed it all up right there.]

imperceptus

do you suppose it is ever truly possible to escape the circumstances of your birth?
to escape destiny?

volitaunt

[ It starts with a blank screen and cheerful booping that anyone who has met BB-8 will recognize, with muffled conversation in the background.

BB-8 is working on something. The screen flickers from blackness to brief color, goes dark again, then abruptly displays the following image: ]

[ Yes, it is Poe Dameron, standing nobly above a motif of X-wings, over the word "RESISTANCE" and below the words "WATCHING OVER THE SKIES AND STARS."

The background conversation stops. Poe's voice comes through clearly: ] Bee, what are you--BB-8, take that down right now.

[ Annnnnd the image vanishes. ]

dispenserofjustice

Now I haven't been here for more than a couple of months, but all these festivals? It makes me wonder if there is any sort of effort being made on our hosts' part to get people home. I like having a good time just like anyone else, but when the "good times" are a week long every month it's maybe time to start questioning how dedicated they really are. I don't think two to two and a half weeks without the distraction of another festival on the mind are really enough.

That is the Turian in me speaking, of course. The down time - even with all the strange crap that happens - is starting to get to me.

But no, really. What is the point in having a week long celebration every month?

dancingmd

There's something I've been thinking about over the past few months of being here: the portal appears to have a distinctly Human bias. I'm Human myself but I come from a universe with hundreds, if not thousands of other sapient species, yet the three of us who are here from that universe are all Humans. What's more is that no one else I've talked to here has ever encountered or even heard of the other people we share our galaxy with, no more than I'd known of Asgardians or Elves or the Prawn before I arrived. On the other hand, despite vast other differences in our realities here, most people seem to know about Humans, which seems strange to me. Surely there must be an infinite number of universes out there without Humans, right? So why are there no representatives of those worlds? Or simply more representatives of a wider variety of peoples?

Now, if this was one of the historical portals built by the inhabitants of the planet we orbit, I wouldn't think as much of it - perhaps they'd specifically target realities that were closest to their own. But if this one is supposedly a natural occurrence, then why this pattern of selection?

Any thoughts on this?

[Because surely, she can't be the only one thinking about it.]

tutee

[ The video opens on a small silver canister, one of the update canisters that came to Bill from the Portal HQ. She keeps the camera steady, narrating over it, ] Inside this can are my memories... Well, my future memories. My future.

[ She turns the camera around, showing herself looking uncertain. ]

I open that, and I'll change. I'll remember new things, I'll age. I don't know how far into my future it goes. I've been to the future, just... never my own.

I suppose my question is... [ She switches the camera around, back to the canister. ] ...Do I open it?

littlemisskate

I've been thinking a lot about how this place could be seen as a second chance. I wanted to ask... what would you do with that second chance? I know a lot of people want to find their way home but if you didn't, what then?

[She knows that it's an intrusive question and that maybe no one will respond but she's curious.]

imperceptus

[ It's your friendly neighborhood drow, hanging out somewhere in the jungle. He's idly tossing a dagger into the air, then catching it, then tossing, and so on. ]

Good evening, my friends.

[ He hasn't met nearly so many of Riverview's population as he'd like, but he's comfortable speaking warmly, casually, as though they've all known each other for years. He leans against a tall, mossy tree, eyes on the dagger as it glints in the low sun's light. ]

I happened to be doing a little light exploring, a little minor surveying ... and I came across something interesting. Ruins of some sort, absolutely emanating with mysterious power. I couldn't quite map the shape of the place, unfortunately--as soon as I began drawing near, the jungle came even more alive than usual. Even the lovely birds were angry with me.

[ He catches the dagger for the final time, then slides it into some unknown recess of his jacket. ]

Now, I am of humble merchant stock, but I can defend myself, if I must. I progressed as far as I dared, but something began to feel wrong. I heard voices--strange, incomprehensible chanting. I felt dizzy, woozy. I took the wise path and retreated.

[ He shakes his head. ]

But, before I escaped, I saw a few artifacts scattered through the underbrush, marking a haphazard trail into the ruins. I dared not take one, but they were all inscribed with a certain symbol.

[ He steps aside from the tree he's been leaning against. This symbol is carved into the bark. ]

Not sure what it means, but I have an uneasy feeling just looking at it.

[ He seems thoughtful for a second, then shakes his head. Brightens up. ]

Anyway! I would very much like to get to the bottom of this, but, as mentioned, I'm merely a merchant. My meager skill is not enough to overcome those ruins alone. Any help would therefore be appreciated.

And--one more thing. If you see this symbol anywhere in town, I'd turn around and walk away.

buildsomething

[Tony's in his workroom, look surprised. His expression is deadpan, but there's something almost pleased underneath it. An almost imperceptible loosening of the tension that's always there in the set of his shoulders.]

So I know we're all well aware that this place is weird as hell, but does stuff just like. Turn up sometimes? Your stuff, I mean. From home.

[As he's talking, a metal arm pops into view behind him. The claw at the front of the arm clicks together once, then starts slowly creeping forward like it's trying to peer at the camera over Tony's shoulder. It's about the least subtle thing imaginable, considering the robot's sheer size, but Tony seems to be quite comfortably ignoring it.

At least until the claw nearly knocks right into the camera and Tony has to move it out of the way like he's holding it out of the range of a toddler. The robot arm is still taking up most of the image now, though. When Tony's voice comes again, it's more than a little resigned.]

'Cause this definitely mine. Unfortunately.

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. ]

shoplifter

[Laura's been trying to adjust. Part of her wonders if coming here wasn't a grave mistake — she'd come thinking there are more like her, people who would accept her more willingly, and in a way, that's true. However... There are a few... annoyances. Grievances. Her rather overworked case worker Linda has been making sure she goes to school. Today isn't the best day for school, though. She's quiet and 'weird' and the other children usually aren't fond of her and her quiet but present danger.

And for Laura, well. She doesn't do well with anyone 'teaching' her. She's had too much of 'teaching' the last eleven years of her... eleven years.

She may or may not have punched another kid in the eye.

She may or may not have ditched school.

And now she sits on the top of a rather tall and dangerous brick-ish wall in the city, her feet hanging precariously off the edge. Close by, the shadow of a tram wooshes by, and somewhere out there, Linda the Case Worker is having a heart attack. Laura, however, seems more puzzled and annoyed than anything. She sits with a potentially stolen bag of mini-donuts, her favorite glasses pressed up on her forehead and her lovely albeit mildly damaged unicorn shirt clear and vibrant.]

Why do children have to go to classes?

I can learn outside of school.

[There are mean children that exist. She's never ran into children who are so exclusionary; after all, mutants had to stick together.

And teachers aren't bad, but something about the set-up bothers her, in ways she's not sure how to explain.

Maybe it's harder to blend in than you'd think. Not that she had gone into this with any high hopes.]

otherflash

Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if the person you were in love with literally forgot you existed? Or, what if you remember having a life with this person except it technically never happened for them?

Would you try to build a connection with them? Would it even be fair to do that? Would you simply try to move on?

nostalgiabomb

[ Distinguished and not-so distinguished residents of Riverview, hello.

Currently, you are graced with a mugshot of one Peter “Space-Duke” Quill and a view of the messier half of his shared apartment. In his hand is his trusty mp3 player – which boasts at least three hundred songs, holy crap, y’all – and while he has one bud in his ear, the other dangles from the wire. ]

So. Apparently if nothing else, this place has, like, all the music ever. So if I’ve gotta be stuck here, might as well make the most of it, right?

I’m on the hunt for somethin’ new. Tryin’ to play a whole lot of catch up. If anyone’s got any music recommendations, I’m all ears. Songs, artists, albums, weird, avant-garde stuff with a guy saying “number nine” over and over – hit me with your best shot. I’ll try anything once.

Also, uh.

[ A pause, and he turns the mp3 player’s face toward the camera. The screen happily displays the album art of The Best of Earth, Wind & Fire, Vol. 1 while “September” plays. Zunes, man!! Aren’t they rad? ]

Don’t suppose anyone here’s familiar enough with this that they can show me how to add stuff?

worldsaway

[When Thor switches the camera on, it's momentarily engulfed by his face before he sits himself back. Now that the frame isn't obscured, it's apparent that he's not the only one there. Both Lokis, Angela and Sif sit either side of him, all situated around a booth at some sort of diner.

Thor, naturally, is the first to start talking.]

It has come to light in one way or another that we could be considered Gods. [He's keeping it vague on purpose.] It is true, in a sense, that we are are not unlike higher beings. We are not mortals and we have powers and abilities beyond what many would be considered normal. The myths and the legends, however, are not precisely true.

[He just wanted to clear that up.] As such, we thought it would be prudent to offer our services in times of need. For missions or protections, we can be of use in many situations. You need only ask.

[He says we, but he largely means I.

Angela, for her part, doesn't look as opposed to the idea as she probably could.]

I will add that I will require payment for my services, but that can be negotiated at a later time.

[ She glances around the table at her siblings as if daring them to counter her.

The younger Loki leans into shot, finger raised. ]

Should you require an actual god, we come in that flavour too.

feelybug

H

ha

hiiii

hello

Hello??

[mantis! is typing...]

[mantis! is typing...]

HI!!!

[ooc: some spoilers for Guardians Vol 2 within.]

riverview network

Entries tagged with marvel (mcu): gamora

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