You can change. I have.

The joke was not recieved as a joke, however, it was recieved as an attempt at a peaceful connection. It allowed Nebula’s shoulders to relax slightly - barely noticeable to the naked eye. She took a few more steps into the room, her gaze shifting from the scientist towards the area itself. What he had done with this section of the ship was interesting. Before, it was a barely functioning room with no practical purpose aside from perhaps - Peter’s exploits. Now? He had made it into his own area, full of knowledge and…. scientific things. Pushing her lips together, her attention was only drawn back to him when he spoke, the words filtering through her mind a few times before she recognised exactly what was happening.

It was true. And she had hoped that no one else would notice it, or if they did, then they would have kept it to themselves. But this man was attempting to help… (or hinder, though, she really needed to start taking a chance and trusting again). There was a small appreciative feeling in her stomach regardless. Though, displaying that to him was a different story.

“That offer is kind.” An aversion of her eyes. “What do you plan on doing?”

It wasn’t a yes, it wasn’t a no. Her parts were private. Regaining herself after Thanos included them, no matter how much she hated what she was. Opening up to someone unknown was a difficult task, one she needed to convince herself of. A few answers about what was exactly in her mind would perhaps help with that.

Although she had yet to accept, Bruce was satisfied enough with her response. The interest she took in his agenda was enough to convince him of her potential willingness to cooperate. 

From what he had heard (and Thanos’ reputation), he understood that this was a sensitive topic for Nebula; she had every right to be cautious. Not only had she been forced to endure physical pain, but emotional as well. The Doctor was determined to prevent this from happening anymore.

“Well, that depends. It’s your call. What’s bothering you the most?”

Despite the fact that it was a private matter, she had sought help before. On different planets, from strangers. What she needed was what she got, no complaints. But that was in the times where she could go back ‘home’ and check in on herself. Where she could be upgraded. This wasn’t going to be a permanent fix - at least, she doubted it would be. But not having the safety net, only having Banner or Rocket? If they did something wrong, she would have to live with it. Especially if they... disappeared.

“Everything.”

*⋰･˖⟡☾⸰ {ɱɛɛɳѳɱ} ⟡☾⸰ *⋰･˖

Damage control. That was what they were aiming to achieve. Nothing more, nothing less. And Nebula was committed, perhaps more than she seemed to be. If nothing because of the simple fact of Gamora, her sister, and her responsibilities regarding the events that had occurred because of her father. Whether she liked or not, part of the reason this was happening was because of her. And she intended to do everything in her power to make it right - even if it was too little, too late.

Rocket was the last of Gamora’s family; The Guardians, and so she stayed close to him. Of course, he was annoying, bitchy & a mess, but her place was with him, in Quill’s space ship. They were similar, and grieving over the same things, and they had already spent close to a month together in space after Titan, along with Stark. What she hadn’t expected was the presence of Banner. While Stark had told her of the BIG GREEN(!!) & the genius known as Bruce, Nebula had made no attempt to get to know the man, nor talk to him except in passing. She accepted the fact that he had decided to come with them, but she was resentful of the obvious babysitting they’d have to do.

What was even more of a pain were her parts. Without Thanos she had managed to skate by maintaining herself through different planets & their resources, keeping herself in check. But after being captured by Thanos, then Titan, and then the month journey with nothing but a rodent & a human for company, she had started to malfunction. She had worked on herself a little on Earth, but the technology couldn’t compare to that of space. Their plan was to stop at Xandar to ensure that the planet was just in mourning, rather than ripping itself to pieces (as it was, of course, the capital of the Nova Empire & had a population of about 12 billion BEFORE the snap). Her private plan was to take some time out there, and ensure that she had the parts to fix herself. What she didn’t expect, however, was for that to be unnecessary. Even as the add-on to their crew asked her over, she didn’t assume it was anything to do with her technology.

Nebula’s gaze lingered on the location she was going, as she came to a stop, listening to the words spoken. And with only a partial pause, she looked into the room where Bruce was.

Babysitting. The thought left a bad taste in her mouth, but this man was with them now, hell or high water. She needed to be, at the very least, respectful. Stepping into the room, her hand lingered on the edge of the door, as her gaze rested on the man. Neither in or out. Analysing what he could possibly want.

“The ship is maintained by myself and Rocket. It’s not something you need to concern yourself with.” She had taken a guess, and raising her head a little, she continued. “Is that it or is there something else you wanted?”

The synthetic edge to her voice caused the doctor’s muscles to tense slightly, teeth grinding together as his jaw clenched. It likely wasn’t personal–her tone was harsh when she spoke to anyone…at least, that’s what he told himself. 

The intricacies of her species were beyond him; he didn’t even know what she was, nor how much of her true self had been stripped away, replaced by mechanical parts–piece for broken piece. 

“Oh, no, it’s not that,” he said, turning to face her, “Rocket is very territorial of his ship and I really can’t spare any of what little dignity I have left by fighting a raccoon.” He couldn’t help but smirk at this, a display of self-amusement. He then shook his head and cleared his throat; his brand of humor wasn’t even well-received on Earth, by the people who knew him–did he really think that she would have laughed along with him? Maybe it had been an attempt at alleviating some of the tension he felt. 

It didn’t work.

With a resigning sigh, he gestured over to an old passenger’s chair turned operating setup. It reclined slightly and had arm rests, on which she could rest her arm while he tinkered. There was even a small table nearby where he had laid his tools. 

It was true. And she had hoped that no one else would notice it, or if they did, then they would have kept it to themselves. But this man was attempting to help... (or hinder, though, she really needed to start taking a chance and trusting again). There was a small appreciative feeling in her stomach regardless. Though, displaying that to him was a different story.

“That offer is kind.” An aversion of her eyes. “What do you plan on doing?”

“Loki? Who is this LOKI you speak of? I have never heard of him in my life! Though I must say… he does sound like a charming fellow!”

Story: I’m on the verge of finishing university & the zero hour job I have does not cover my rent, and I’m unable to pick up more hours. I’ve been searching for a job for a while and I just can’t get one, despite having my practically expert-CV boyfriend person looking over it. So, I figured, yo. I’m going to try my hand at commissions. Now, I’m not a very artistic person, but I have done some media production (at uni), which includes digital media and stuff. I have also made icons before in the past, for my own use & put them up on tumblr & hollow art. Now?

I want to make icons for y’all. I’m not great, but here’s some examples (in a smaller size than they’d actually be). All of them are from DW b/c I have access to BBC IPlayer yo

Non edited icons will be something similar to this:

here // here

Under cut for prices etc:

PLS RELBOG IF POSSIBLE.

“I’ve been in every patchwork revival tent from here to yon,

so brother don’t you recognize your own kin?

I have returned like a prodigal son.”

I’ve never been good at emotional stuff. 

Except anger. 

Anger, I’m good at.

Good. There was only one last piece of the puzzle left && she was going to test that right now. With an face that usually didn’t express much emotion, she actually displayed some kind of approval at his answer. “I like you.” The only negative part of him was his trickster personality. “Defend yourself.” This wouldn’t make him like her to say the least. 

The second after she instructed him to go on the defensive, she didn’t hold back. Her fist was on a collision course with his face, and she already had two other attacks lined up if that didn’t work. If you couldn’t defend yourself while you were weak, then what good were you?

A brief moment passed between them before the faintest hint of contentment touched her face, her compliment causing the corners of his lips to twitch up into a lopsided grin. 

However, this display of his own satisfaction was quickly replaced by a wide-eyed expression of shock as her first came hurdling toward him, barely prefaced by her warning of the impending attack. The first blow he was able to intercept, his hand easily locking onto her wrist to derail its course. 

Her boot passing through him, she took for a miss, and instantly turned back around and pulled out her weapon, firing it through where she believed Loki was. As the projection dissipated, she lowered her weapon, stepping back and instantly turning her attention to her surroundings, looking for any sign of his location. Clever.