#guardianrocket

♡     𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗧𝗬    𝗙𝗢𝗥    𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗡-𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗧     ♡

{➹} – OPTIMISM WASN'T QUITE the word the hedgehog would have used. What he was staring at was a mess, and there was no better word for it. It reminded him far too much of The Special Zone, a pocket dimension where there was nothing but chucks of land, other odd debris and one road running through the entity of it. It was a thing of nightmares, had even been labeled as such by the echidnas in their prime.

This? This wasn't much better.

"'M getting way too old for this..." Words not entirely mumbled under his breath but, nonetheless, the hero forced himself to take a breath. It wouldn't do any good to get riled up now. What's done was done, and now they had to find a way to fix...it. Whatever this was. In all his years, he had yet to see something like this unfolding in front of his own eyes.

"And here I thought we wouldn't have t' deal with any more of Robotnik's machines coming t' bite us. An entire decade an' I'm still dealing with this mess..." For the first time, he tore his eyes from the unfolding calamity and looked at the raccoon. He hoped they could provide a better explanation here. This was beyond the hero's knowledge. "What...am I looking at anyway? What's happening?"

"I think I really would advise not sleeping in the sink. It wouldn't be that comfortable and I've been known to walk around in my skivvies in the kitchen."

@guardian-rocket asked: "I got a memo you are looking for a ukulele player?"

⚙️ → ❝ Is it that Miranda ukulele? I can give you 5k for it. Er---Put it on the old man's credit card.❞

It was plain to see that guilt still plagued his companion over whatever had transpired in the past, and whatever other complex feelings lay tied to it Thor could not hope to discern – so he did not attempt to. Instead he focused on what Rocket was asking him, eyebrows raising as he gave the matter a moment of thought before responding.

“That all rather depends,” he began, “on who they were or how important they were to us. We might carve tales of their deeds into rock and stone, or speak prayers at ceremonies, and burn tributes like herbs and flowers or hold feasts in their honour. Some might tell poems or recount stories of them, then. Sometimes we might have a ritual hunt. And then, sometimes, some of us might style out hair a specific manner, or wear certain things which remind us of them. ‘Tis all quite down to the individual.”

Thor’s smile returned, then, gently affirming.  “What I’m interested in is how you would like to honour your comrades. It can be as big or small as you wish, just know I’ll do all I can to see that it happens.”

@guardian-rocket pressed play!

It had been—still was—a lot to adjust to, having others aboard his ship full-time. What had been his sole, isolated space to unwind unless he had a lover onboard for, at most, a night or two was now living quarters for five. Sure, having more people to introduce new songs to or to joke around with or hear extremely over-detailed stories (thanks, Drax) from was nice, but long lines for the bathroom or disappearing items or yet again an empty fridge he had just filled got old very quickly.

Well—guess I did say we’d be havin’ a little bit of both good an’ bad, huh?

Where this conversation fell in those two camps remained to be seen.

Hands resting on his hips, Quill tilted his head slightly, a lift of his brows at the other.