#brokearrow

“I am Groot!”

It was just their luck arriving at the same time. Dark eyes shifted to the side to glance at the centaurian, corner of her lip lifting in a faint sneer as she pushed her shoulder against his in an attempt to keep his key from swiping. 

“I was here first,” That was a lie, but she was going with it nonetheless. It was unclear at the moment whether or not Nebula had snagged an extra key to his room, or there had been some sort of mix-up. Whatever the reason though, she wasn’t about to give up a place to sleep and sleep was something she was desperate to gain. 

With a swift motion, Nebula turned on a heel and pressed herself up against the door, blocking the coder with her body for the time being. One hand outstretched to the side, fingers gripping at the frame as her dark eyes flicked up to Yondu’s, sighing lightly under her breath. She really wasn’t in the mood to argue, or fight for that matter so instead, the back of her mind swiftly worked up a scheme and she’d  attempt charisma. Whether or not he’d fall for it...  

                                                      @brokearrow​ | Cont. from here [X]

     O nce the man dropped her, she was quickly picked up again by the captain.

     U pon further expection, Yondu would see that the jacket she wore was old, had coal dirt here and there and had holes in them. H er shirt was worn from years of wear, her jeans white from wear on the knees and her shoes wet from the snow back where she had left before sneaking on the ship. T he only thing that didn’t seem as worn out was the red bandana that was around her neck.

     T he girl’s eyes (or well one good eye) widened as she stiffened her body. H er right eye was swollen slightly from a black eye while the other showed an eye of amber with slit pupils which shrunk to a very thin line. T he corner of her mouth was split. H er sliver hair was in a mess, and while her face showed surprise, the shine showed something else: purple, or fear.

@brokearrow

There were countless entrances to the sandstone fortress if you could fly, and only one if you couldn’t. About one hundred feet up from the desert floor, it boasted countless balconies and open windows, entirely undefended. At the ground level, however, was a single circular door that weighed as much as a small star craft. Kee, being Kee, had bypassed the door entirely and opted for the easiest way in, despite the fact that it left her to navigate the dark halls almost blind down to the treasury beneath the surface of the desert.

The Kasbah had exactly zero right angles, and it drove her nuts. She took turn after turn, seeing only rounded corners and uneven steps, but at least she knew she was going down, which was at least somewhat directionally correct. On her way down, the Kasbah shuddered, which meant the massive door was being opened somewhere above her. She flew faster, more frantically, all but lost.

After far too long, Kee made it to the treasury, right at the same time as another, it seemed. She hovered in place, right next to the last staircase down, ready to grab her blaster, until she noticed the dull but distinct shine of the ravager symbol on his coat. That meant he wasn’t an immediate threat, and someone she should at least endeavor not to harm without reason. “I don’t recall askin’ fer backup,” she said, defensive but not threatening. “And unless yer here to take me in fer bounty, I don’t need anyone taggin’ along while I work.” 

Contraxia had felt almost tame compared to what she was used to. Her every whim was catered to, she spent most nights in the beds of strangers whose names she never learned, and the flames on her jacket garnered far more respect than anyone else would ever dare show a Ravager. Even then, lounging out in the snow, laughing with the others as they drank and caught snowflakes on their tongues, it almost felt too good to be true. 

Then he’d come. Like a ghost from a time she’d tried to forget ever existed. Stakar fucking Ogord. He was a legend to every Ravager, even those who had only recently fallen into the life. To her, he was much more than a folk hero. As a child, she’d held him in such high regard, just as he’d claimed to be fond of the little girl. And now he couldn’t be bothered to look at her, his eyes gliding past her to land on her captain. Like she wasn’t even worth acknowledging. 

But any pain she might have felt at the oversight was forgotten as the shouting began, glass shattering and snow crunching under frenzied footsteps, Stakar’s booming voice silencing every last spectator. Reminding them all of their position as pariahs, Ravagers in nothing but name. Deprived of the glory that the other factions partook in. Because of Yondu and his youthful arrogance. 

As they made preparations to venture offworld, she came across him with her pack slung over her shoulder, watching him turning his yaka arrow over and over in his hands. 

👒- Hold their arm! 

Carlos jumped slightly in surprise when the blue individual grabbed onto his arm. For a brief moment he thought he was being abducted again, but quickly reasoned with himself that that didn’t happen on Xandarian colonies.