#NUMYTHS    —     dependent   ben grimm  and   peter quill    ///    as written by sol  (she/her)  for latverionhq.

ben grimm  aka  the thing   —   intro ,   interactions ,   images ,   musings .

she watches him carefully, eyes lingering a bit too long.  first rocket – and now peter.  she had begun to wonder what happened to her in whatever world they were from.  when peter calls her name, she stiffens and pauses. “ yeah, i’m gamora.   unless i was supposed to be randomly assigned a new nickname. ”

“ well it’s a good thing i’m not here for a bounty then. ” she mutters, leaning against a nearby wall. “ at least you know who i am.  haven’t run into that yet.  though, given the look on your face, i can assume i’m not your gamora.  but i am still … well, me. ”

"in another universe, we were teammates.” ben began, as he eyed the doombot part that he had asked for. he turned it over, examining it, slightly impressed that the dismembered leg still looked as good as new. he wondered if rocket had restored it during his spare time, thinking that it might come in handy when they time comes. perhaps the part truly was worth the price—but it’s also worth it to haggle a bit. “can you give me a discount at least?”

“hey cap, i hope you don’t mind me barging in.” peter slid in through the door and immediately made a beeline towards the mocktails (without knowing they are, well, mocktails; the sip he took later would disappoint him).

no, he wasn’t there because he wanted to join. he didn’t need the support group. he’s fine. he’s fine. he’s fine. if anybody asked, he was curious to see how a multiversal displacement support group function. “heard about this place and wanted to see what you do here. got some people—” he looked around, made sure doombots weren’t around, and said in a hushed low tone. “—in my line of work who might need support, you know?”

it’s supposed to be a simple bounty. stage a death and help the person go into hiding before the doombots come over and drag them to the killiseum, but he’s caught off guard when he stumbles upon the last person he thought he would meet. “gamora?” even when he says the name aloud, he still can’t believe it. it’s been so long since he has seen her—but which gamora is this? his gamora is dead. the other gamora that ran away doesn’t have knowledge of him. 

despite how his emotion threatens to take over, he tampers it down. he blinks away his tears, tries to focus on the task at hand instead. “sorry, i called first dibs on this guy, you can’t have ‘em.”

“are you sure you can’t keep him for another week?” his tone was a combination of jest and solemn. ‘i told you so’ just on the tip of his tongue, requiring a lot of strength to restrain himself from letting them slip out; a funny thing because he barely said anything about the sleepover, though he hoped that the friendly neighbourhood spider-man had picked up the silent and subtle warning. “it’s been a while since we’ve had peace and quiet. surely he’s not that bad of a roommate, right?”

“there are plenty of hills to die on, ben - however, this is a stool within a laboratory on one of the top floors of a rather expensive building.” he paused as he swiveled in his chair to face his best friend with a smile. “not quite a hill nor one i’m willing to die on.“ he added, knowing full-well ben would stone-face him (haha) or literally drag him out of there kicking and screaming. reed had… choices to make. “it’s a theory i would certainly like to test out, but for your sake and your sad disposition of looking upon me, i will concede and shut everything down for the evening.” he held up his hands as he twisted around to begin doing just that. a soft hum escapes him as he gives ben’s suggestion some thought. “alright, just a few - i don’t need to be scaring susan by doing normal things like getting intoxicated. but if that so happens to happen, you have my permission to carry me home.”

reed had always thrown himself into his work, sometimes quite literally - though with the understanding that he’d need to take breaks every so often. but he’d become so good at doing what he did that he’d developed a certain sort of trance that made him feel as if he’d only been at his lab for minutes and not hours or days. which is why, though he often responded with senses of annoyance, he was thankful for ben, susan, and yes, even johnny - to pull him from the abyss of science. today was apparently ben’s turn. “i’m nearly finished, if i can just…” he broke off from his sentence and soon found himself concentrating again. until ben’s threat hit his ears. pausing, he turned to face his greatest friend. “you can try, but you seem to forget i can stretch at great lengths.”

thor and peter are… okay? they’re on good terms for the most part, even if the other guardians like pitting them against each other. (why? peter’s not sure, he thought everyone likes the way he’s leading the team but whatever!). so, peter doesn’t mind paying thor a visit, especially knowing how much time has passed since he last saw the other, and—as much as peter hates to admit this—thor does have some great stories. he wonders if he’s had any new adventures since their last meeting.

stories are best accompanied by good drinks and he’s heard that frigga’s is a quaint little bar. so, it’s a no-brainer for peter to go there. as soon as peter enters the bar, he makes his way towards thor. “hey, buddy, nice place you got here.”

It was chaos. Pandemonium, if you were feeling fancy (he wasn’t feeling fancy). Open whatever Doom’s version of the Raft was; empty the whole rogues gallery onto the streets; send innocent, unassuming citizens formal invitations to fight to their deaths, like the world’s worst wedding invites; vanish off the face of the earth. A perfect plan. Thanks, Doom. Gotta admire his brain. Peter didn’t know what Doom’s endgame was, but it couldn’t be anything good. Give him some breathing room and the benefit of hindsight, and he could start trying to put the pieces together. For now, he had a wheel to catch. 

“Hey, you never know. Could be chatty. I was chatty when I took a reckless joyride through a few dozen city blocks–which, for the record, was an accident, and also it never happened.” He cocked his head to the side and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Of course I remember the plan. I was just making sure you remembered the plan. And that the plan hadn’t changed.” Before he could finish his own sentence, Peter leapt into the air, ready to swing straight into the Big Wheel’s path. “Life is a highway, my spiky-headed friend. Let’s go stop this asshole from riding it all night long.”

“you know you’re not helping your case by admitting me these things, right?” the words might sound like he is annoyed, but he wears a small smile. “the plan hasn’t change. let’s go, spidey. let’s kick this son of a bitch.” matt angles his billy club towards a flag pole and presses the button. the grappling hook is deployed and he launches upwards. as he leaps in the skies, his radar sense shows him that there should be a shallow roof just to his 2 o’clock. he lands there and aims his billy club to another flag pole to propel himself further up. he continues doing this for the next block.

“well, i’ve somehow made it to the afterlife… if this counts as such? feels a bit middle of the road given the circumstances.“ she responded, a hint of humor in her tone as she smiled at him. he knew she couldn’t see him - but she hoped the energy was there. “but i’ve been well, i’ve taken a job as an organizer for the killiseum. so, my fair share of blood and violence is still apparently on the table - as i can see law is for you… we just chose… something adjacent.” she spoke carefully, clearly - but more to emphasize their similarities and their differences. but when he called her out upon her ‘catching up’ she let out a small laugh. “i think you know me too well, i might have to take you out. can’t have people knowing my motives - but no, i do need your help, rather… your insight and maybe a plan. unless you’ve retired the other half of you?” she asked, leaning against his table and tilting her head, a small rap of her knuckles onto the wood. “but i doubt that.”

||    it was easy enough to find.     the thing with living here in latverion, at the very least, there was far less to get lost in. the ghost of new york city sings like a choir in her mind, a grieve for the fallen, but that’s really all she has, here. this diner feels like a place she once knew. ben grimm is just the anomaly for one karen page  —  in a different world, she never would have met him.   “  please, if we’re going to be taking down rock trolls together, you should at least call me karen.  ”   amusement is warm on her mouth as she takes his hand, offers a firm shake in return before sitting down.   “  i think doom’s trying to send me a message  —  i’ve been writing some  …  opposing pieces, lately. and i admit, my usual writer’s approach seems pretty useless, but  —  i can handle myself.  ”   a girl is a gun. karen gets right to business as they wait for the waitress, exchanging her notebook for the menu with him  ;  a little trade.   “  i think you’re right.  about the connection.  ”