#anyways someone remind me to write the wicked grace scene that lives in my head rent free

[jackals-ships]

was thinking about boobs for a second tho and it reminded me there's a scene where krem teases bull about his pillowy man bosoms 😌 and lbr no scene has Ever made me feel so comfortable with my own chest as that one

[kierongillen]

Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine 41

Spoilers, obv.

After last issue's formalism, this one just accelerates. And, as everything in this arc, everything is a big beat. If everything is a big beat, how do you choose what to spend your space on? What beats really matter? How do you pace it? What can be a grace note and what's a scene? That's what this issue, and the rest of the arc, tends to be about.

This issue has gone down very well. I'll admit that while I absolutely gasped when I got paged in, I suspect it's going to be least favourite of the whole arc. That more says how much I enjoy the rest of the arc. Also, as a friend put it to me, I may be allergic to making people happy.

Let’s get on with this.

Jamie and Matt's cover:

There is, to some degree, a "Who hasn't had a headshot cover?" to this arc. As such, Mimir finally gets his. This is a glorious one – the pinks and blues, work really well, and the circuitboards frame it well. Obviously, Mimir plays a big role in this issue, so it is thematic. As is…

Paulina's cover

I just love Paulina's covers, as her being the regular alt-cover artist on Thunderbolt should imply. This made me want to immediately pitch a kick-ass pop D&D bard comic to someone, Xena Warrior Princess as produced by Xenomania. The names of the swords are the chef-kiss, but there's so much to love. The expression is everything.

Page 1

One page scene, with a modified nine panel grid. The one page scene is something that happens a lot this arc. I did a two-page version, but with the right seven panels, we're sorted. Yes, this is all we see of the de facto antagonists of the series this issue – when last issue was all about them, it doesn't worry me too much.

Page 2

Standard music journalist concept. That the second album tends to be worst than the first. Hard to prove, though my old friend Peter's note that "you have your whole life preparing for your first album and have a year to do your second" does seem to imply an easy explanation.

Page 3-4-5

Stealth mission! It's Metal Gear WicDiv!

We actually forgot to add the flashes to the first panel until the very last minute. Monthly Comics is a hell of a time sometimes, stress the “hell.”

I love the determination of Laura in the second panel of 3. That's great eyes.

Looking at this now, that "I can't do much now" is in a panel smaller than 1/9th of the page says a lot about the scale she's working on. The background was Matt in full trippy mode – I had a friend note that this scene is a little akin to Kohl in Rue Britannia 5 (The difference being Kohl is using nostalgia for a performance, while Laura is just doing a performance) but the moving squiggle does remind me the use of optical illusions in Phonogram 3. Bugs in the optic nerve are our friend.

Panel 3 on 4 is obviously Clayton living large and conquering. When you ask for something like "Can you sample the background and use as a speech balloon" you have no idea if it's going to work.

We could have divided the middle panel into two, but I suspect it'd have been less effective. We've seen the trick before. Now we see the same trick, but different. Mix it up. We're performers.

Hmm. I realise the Norns string of balloons is something I'm doing more often now – it's not something I've always done. I'm normally a one-panel-one-emotion, which strings of dialogue rarely allow (as, if there’s any change of emotion inside the string, the image is rendered ludicrous). In a middle shot, and a strong emotional throughline with the dialogue and I'm more okay with it.

While this whole three pages is an action sequence, it's also exposition for Laura's current state. The best exposition is demonstration, I guess.

I mean, the last panel of page 5? That's how cut to the bone we are. Problem? Solve it. Problem? Solve it. We don't need to fuck around anymore.

Page 6-7-8

And after six whole trades, the reunion between Lucifer and Laura. I suspect a different writer would have played this bigger and more melodramatic, but when the reader knows this, a splash feels overkill, especially with the taut pacing of the rest of the issue. However... there are five panels here. That's a page's worth of content, and enough to give an emotional throughline.

Sometimes when writing it's all about trying to find an honest response which is also unexpected. Like, in life, you think you'll feel sad or happy at certain times, but when you live through it, you don't. Or you don't entirely. What other stuff is happening? That's what rings true to me.

Anyway – that's where Laura's Guilt comes from. Laura at her most Dionysus.

And then Lucifer shatters all that self pity with the wink. Did you miss me? Of course, you did.

Page 7, panel 4 is one of those "a comic panel is not a moment in time" bits of magic McLeod always talks about. As in, as we read across the panel time progresses. The Mimir/Cass conversation is getting on for... 10 seconds, maybe? The teleport signatures do not take that long to appear. It's only with Laura's interruption that panel kicks into high gear.

As Multiversity noted you can easily imagine another draft of this with a bigger fight scene. And it's true – but also lying around was a version which cuts it even shorter. Do we need to really give a whole page to Cass breaking out? I felt so. Without the big beat, it feels flat. And it's good to see Cass let rip.

The slight angle on Jamie's external shot with a Norns black/white plus golden thread from Matt is really interesting. We don't often see the Norns as combatants in WicDiv, so this is a rare chance to give Cass a "Hello, I am a bad ass too, in case you've forgotten."

Page 9-10-11-12

Cripes. Going this and making notes I can't believe how tightly we're winding this and (more so) getting away from it. We did all this in four pages?

Two panels to the escape – the right image and a handful of taut captions to hold you between scenes. The first is doing a lot of work, but the second is just elegant. What do you need but the broken doors? Great stuff by Jamie here.

(Laura's captions do a lot of work here in setting up the themes, and the return of Sakhmet's memory to the story)

If you're wondering "How on earth could we get the escape be quicker, it's to take the first two panels on page 8 and move to the previous page. That makes it a five panel page, which is entirely do-able. That's a cost, but it would have bought slightly more space in this scene. As it is, I preferred to cut mid-page and end with Lucifer's first spoken lines in ages.

Once more, a big reveal in a small panel. Chrissy's note on the script was basically hearts for Luci at this point. Like, the second she cuts to the chase and tell s people what to do...

...and then the page turn, and she just goes full Lucifer. I know you lot have missed her, but I have too.

Getting back to Inanna was also easy, the sweetheart... but it all leads back to Sakhmet. That Mothering Invention was as tight as it was didn't leave much room for Laura to think about Sakhmet, or mourn at all... or, most of all, make it clear the story (and Laura) considers her loss important and real. It's an awful sad panel at the end of the page.

Inanna's voice was easy to find again. He's such a sweetheart. Tara is a little harder, just as I wrote her less, but I've been fascinated by this arc in terms of writing her as an actual character. I think one of the ironies of issue 13 was that it put Tara on a pedestal, and the pedestal is an objectifying as any other cage. Getting her back as a character is wonderful, and she gets to be as messy and flawed as everyone else.

Inanna not knowing ANY of this is hard. That's the problem with most of this arc – there is so much information flying around, and secrets some (but not all) are aware of. Who gets to respond to what and when? What to remind people of? What to let slide? Inanna not knowing about Baal is so huge it had to be hit and hit hard.

And then... the bodies.

When plotting this and trying to work out how I could get the cast – oh god, this is not a deliberate pun, but it's also clearly a pun - back on their feet, I was thinking of the Morrigan Gambit. Three heads, three bodies. Perfect. Then I remembered Mimir, and swore. I started to think about how that would be a tense, dramatic situation and how the personal politics could play out and I realised that Tara would just turn it down. I then realised that's exactly how the scene would work too.

(In a "tightness" thing, I suspect in another world, this scene would have been two pages. The "and Tara then just butts in" is the key thing, but you could get the timing a little more intricate to sell the moment more – still, even in this page, I could have extended it more, but seeing Tara's elaboration and everyone else's response to it was just key work for them all.)

In passing – Mimir's glowing in the dark in the penultimate panel just wonderful. Nice work Jamie and Matt.

Page 13

From the Sisters of Mercy's song, Marian.

Page 14-15-16-17

Here's where you talk about spending space. What's important here? You need the scale to show what Baph has been doing – and Jamie turns it into something astoundingly gothic. The use of blacks, the use of light and shade. Just the right level of suggestive. It’s one of my favourite bits of composition in the issue.

As the pantheon are getting back together, this leads to an increase in crowd scenes, which are the eternal artist killer. As such, I'm looking for solutions which only involve the absolute minimum of the cast in a scene.

Thee was an awful moment earlier in the issue when I went – wait! Do I have too many heads to carry? Then I realised I was fine. That said, finding places to put them down so we can have chat scenes was also somewhat tricky. The shelf turning up on page 15 is an example. Clealry Baph planned to (er) have a place to keep heads.

Well, I say, Baph, but it's clearly Nergal now. The road from early Nick Cave to late Nick Cave has been a long way. It's a great shot.

To go back to the space, why spend it on this? We’re reintroducing Nergal and Morrigan, and we’re also showing the scale of them in the plot, and the actions of Nergal. Where we go with the bodies is such a big beat, it needs to come from something similarly large. That’s also the reason why so much (relative in the issue) space is spent on the Morrigan/Nergal scenes. Of course, it’s also a key scene for this subplot, so demands space for that. It’s rarely just one reason. Probably a useful time for my usual “these notes are only ever a selection of thoughts.”

This is also a serious pose panel by Jamie.

The “I could bring her back.” He’s an underworld god too. If she could do it, he could. This is something which I suspect some people thought implicit in the old scene, but the final manipulation of Morrigan is unpacked at length in the nine panel grids.

Nine panel grids are a natural rhythm for this – when I was planning the later bit the triple-goddess of it made obvious sense, so it expanded to the whole scene. Also, the cropped image reduces the possibility of a Jamie crowd scene.

I always thought that, given the amount of time the various characters get on film, Ladyhawke could more accurately be called Blokeywolf. I digress.

Page 18-19-20

As said earlier, the triple-goddess to nine panel grid is one of those natural ways to give a stress to each of the elements. You’ll notice the clicks are left then right then centre. I’d originally written it as left to right, before – after Chrissy’s Editorial urging – rewrote to end with the Macha section to go last. Gentle Annie may have been the kinder part of Morrigan, but Macha was the part he mostly dated.

Then, in a moment of weirdness, Jamie actually drew it in the original order, despite never having seen that script. Morrigan has powers, as does the logical necessity of a left to right panelling order. As a nine panel grid, just moving panels around to fix it is easy. Hail grids!

Like most of the big acts of magic, it’s all about emotional sense than anything else. Hence, it is inevitable as Nergal actually does this, the bleak temple he’s constructed starts to crumble. And, in perhaps the most ludicrous bit of me in the comic, The Temple Of Love Is Falling Down. Too much is the bare minimum.

Jamie’s triple-portrait of the Morrigan is pretty startling. I have no idea if Jamie will miss drawing Badb’s hair, but I’ll miss seeing it.

Re-reading this now I’m struck by how low-key it is. That was always part of WicDiv’s magic – the finger click, and then things happening. The Morrigan transformation was usually drawn to be instantaneous – one panel Macha, the next Badb and so on. This kind of keeps to that.

And then… the reveal. That the new bodies isn’t a splash page says everything about this issue, but it still gets the punching the air moment. We had to have one of those eventually. Lucifer in a black suit is one of the things I’ve been waiting as long to see as Nergal in his. I giggled with glee at seeing this. Jamie’s worked in elements of the Morrigan into each of the gods – Lucifer’s red hair is the most obvious one, but Gentle Annie in Inanna and Macha in Mimir also have their notes. Inanna’s netting top is the main one – and note the shapes on Mimir’s armour changing to mimic Macha’s.

Yes, writing Lucifer remains fun and easy. I recommend it to everyone.

Page 21-22

In terms of seeing chat, people responding to the small details in the issue is one of the bigger joys. That Jamie got the Inanna/Nergal hug in the background of this exchange between Laura/Lucifer/Cass is absolutely wonderful. Laura and Cass have come a long way.

This is arguably a small cliffhanger – the smallest of this arc, at least. However, it sits on the weight of the rest of the run. We’re promising a solution to one of the larger mysteries in the run, and I suspect we get by on that. Note how space is used – this is a dense panel layout, but we go to a thired of a page for Laura’s “I know how to end this” (so giving it weight” and then going to three panel page for the conclusion (which adds weight to each of these beats.) Jamie takes the framing to tight on Cass for the beat as well to sell it. Note Matt with the Norn-colouring creeping in – and how it goes from the fires in the first panel to this is just a joy.

Page 23

Interstitial, and obvious reference to the Jay-Z record, but everyone is just excitedly clapping over the adding stuff to the godwheel. Sergio outdid himself here. It’s certainly an example of how you can have storytelling and even hero-shot audience-cheers beats out of things entirely unlike a traditional comics panel. After all these issue,s we get to see something added to the godwheel. Of course people cheer. That said,  as I said to a friend, “Of all the things I’ve found to torture the WicDiv readership, hope is the cruelest of all.”

EDIT: Actually, I messed up here - Jamie did the tweaks. Nice work Jamie!

And that’s it. Next up – 42, wherein questions are answered. In passing – the letters we’ve been getting are amazing. I’m going to try and cram as many as I can in the issues to come, but issue 44 will be our last one with a letters page. So that’s a timelimit if you wanna try and get in. It’s wicdiv@gmail.com.

Thanks for reading.

[therearemonstersinthedark]

Astronautical Ch 9: No Answers

A Guardians of the Galaxy Fanwork

Pairings: Peter Quill / Gamora (one-sided)

Genre: Adventure, general

Word Count: 5k

Rating: T to be safe

Links: Fanfiction.net || Ao3

Summary:     The team has gained two members, but their time for celebration is spent recovering from the battle, both physically and mentally.

Author’s Notes: Sorry for the late update and rambling chapter. It's been a very long week. This is the busy season at one job and at the other one we've had some very stressful cases and a couple emergency surgeries. I've been spending a lot of time just destressing with Overwatch, time I usually spend on writing and editing. I debated skipping the update this week entirely as this chapter and the next were originally one, and there were some scenes and details that I was still working out. I think I have them all hammered down, or at least I'll live with the choices I have made.This chapter is titled for "No Answers" by Amber Run. The lyrics and tune fit nicely with the story, and it has some double meanings as well, so it worked out great.I do not own Marvel or the Guardians, this is purely a fanwork for entertainment.

Chapter 9: No Answers

Peter hadn't let go of Gamora's hand as he lead her back to the Milano which they rode up as the tractor beam pulled it into the Eclector's loading bay.

A torrent of emotions wrestled one another in his chest. He wanted to be excited, to celebrate the small victory over Thanos and the near completion of his team, but a sourness had taken over the air. No words of congratulations or cheers of relief were exchanged in the Milano's creaking hull. Nebula vanished without a word into the many halls of the Eclector before the ramp had even settled onto the floor of the bay. Groot had looked for a moment as though he wanted to ask Peter something, but after a shifting his weight side to side a few times he simply made his way into a dark corner where he curled in on himself. Drax lingered on the ship just long enough to gather his whetting stone and give Gamora long considerate stare before assuring Peter that he would not be far if he should need help and taking his own leave.

Yondu was, to put it mildly, less than pleased that Peter had somehow managed to return with a second assassin in tow. After much arguing and more than a few threats to leave them stranded on the nearest moon or sell them all as a lot to Ronan, they reached a tenative agreement that Gamora could stay on the condition that all her weapons be confiscated for the duration of her stay, that she would spend the first day in the holding cell, and that she would be wearing a tracker while she was on the ship. The assassin seemed to have no real objection to this, accepting the terms with more grace than Peter, who had sputtered at the thought of locking her up.

"I can't believe they're making you stay in here. I'm so sorry." Peter appologized for the hundreth time as he unrolled a mattress in the makeshift prison. Gamora just shrugged her shoulders, the blanket folded neatly in her arms wrinkling with the gesture.

"I have slept in much worse conditions."

"Yeah, that's, not as reassuring as you think it is." He told her with an easy laugh as he smoothed out some non-existent kinks in the foam.

"I will be fine." She assured him in a softer tone with what may have been the ghost of a ghost of a smile.

If he squinted.

"I know but... I'll be close if you need anything." He had originally planned to just bunk the night in the spacious cell along with her, but it had been a deal-breaker for the ravager captain. He was so tired and disheartened that he didn't even have it in him to argue the point. Plus, Gamora would probably not appreciate the gesture as the extension of friendship he was going for.

A huge yawn reminded Peter of just how badly his body needed to rest. Standing up from the perfectly flat mattress Peter chewed on his lip briefly, trying to think of something to say here but his brain was just spitting out steam now.

"Well, goodnight." He said lamely before turning and exiting the cell, Kraglin shutting the door and locking it behind him.

"As long as she don't cause no trouble, I'm sure she'll be out of there in no time." Kraglin offered as he followed Peter to where he had set up his makeshift bed just around the corner. "The cap's just tryna look out for everyone, you know that."

"I know. I do. Just... have a good night Kraglin." He sighed, flopping onto his own mattress and practically melting into it. The weight of the day seemed to crash down on him all at once like a tidal wave and he was out before the first mate's footsteps had faded down the hall.

-x-

On nights like this, when Peter crashed from exhaustion, he typically fell deep into a dreamless void of blissful nothingness until he woke. This night, however, he dreamed. He dreamed of swirling colors and distorted voices singing along to an unfamiliar tune. At some point he stood in the courtyard once more, spotlights all turned to him until their heat was unbearable, burning the color from his skin. Across the court, impossibly lit up in the shadows was Rocket, just as he had last seen him. Peter's heart skipped a beat and as he watched, small hands reached up to remove the muzzle. Free of the cage, Rocket's lips peeled back into a wicked smile, teeth sparkling as they parted.

"PEEEETER." Ego's voice called out in a deep sing-song tune. The shock of his father's voice coming from his friend's mouth was enough to make him stumble back, but when he stepped out of the circle of lights his boot landed on nothing and he was falling. There were no boosters on his boots to save him as he spiraled in and out of distant voices, calling, singing, laughing, weeping, and tattered half-formed emotions that all smeared together, until eventually even that faded away and he was finally left to rest in peace.

-x-

The next morning started out pretty quiet and uneventful. After dragging his aching body to its feet and checking on Gamora, who was feigning sleep, he stumbled his way down to the galley to fetch them breakfast.

"Knock knock." Peter called out, a tray full of food from the kitchen balanced in each hand. Gamora glanced up at him through thick lashes before rolling gracefully to her feet. He knew she'd been faking it.

"Breakfast?" He asked cheerfully, sliding the tray under the door for her to take.

"Thank you." She murmured, accepting it without hesitation but giving it a long look once it was in her hands.

"It's not poisoned, I promise. You can have mine instead if you want." He wiggled the tray balanced precariously in his casted hand for emphasis.

"No, this is fine." She didn't mention that the nanobots in her bloodstream would filter out any poison anyways. Peter decided not to mention it either.

"So, Starlord-"

"Peter. My real name is Peter Quill."

"So, Peter Quill," She started, taking a seat on a nearby crate and crossing her legs, placing the tray carefully in her lap. "Why don't you tell me who you are, and why you seem to think we're friends?"

Peter looked around briefly for something to sit on himself, but when nothing appeared he gave up with a shrug and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the door.

"Well, I guess, we're not. But we were, or we should be? I don't really understand it myself, but in the reality I come from we met on the planet Xandar after you had decided to defect from Thanos. Y'see -ahm- You see, I'm somewhat of a legendary outlaw, and I had stolen the map to the Infinity stone- although I didn't know that's what it was then- and beat Ronan to it, and you were going to steal it from me so you could sell it to some collector guy. Except in the middle of our fight we got attacked by a couple of bounty hunters and we all got thrown into the Kyln together where we met Drax-that big guy with the tatoos-, and well, we kind of ended up saving Xandar and becoming known as the Guardians of the Galaxy." Peter took a long sip from his mug as he finished and willed Gamora to believe him.

"And why would I just suddenly betray Thanos then of all times?" She asked. It seemed like a strange first question to Peter. Not one he was expecting, at least.

"You told me Thanos killed your parents right in front of you, that he tortured you and turned you into a weapon, and you couldn't just sit back and watch while he wiped out an entire planet. I guess when the orb -the infinity stone- came onto the scene, you saw your chance." Peter shrugged. To be honest, Peter wasn't entirely sure as to the depths of her motives himself. He had always figured that she had just left that mad man's rule at the first opportunity. The money that the collector offered was certainly enough to allow anyone to vanish if they wished. For a moment he thought he saw something dark flicker across her face, but it was there and gone before he could identify it, if it was there at all.

"I see."Gamora took a bite of what Peter fondly refered to as 'ravager gruel' and chewed it thoughtfully.

"And this is your chance, again, to join me, to join us, and turn things back the way they should be. We can save Xandar, the NOVA Corps, and everyone else that Ronan has killed since then."

"And how exactly do you intend to take on the Titan himself?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. This was the first time someone had asked him that with genuine curiosity instead of sarcasm.

"With the infinity stone we stole from Ronan. You, me, and the other Guardians held it and used its power to destroy Ronan. We can do it again, I know we can, if we can get the whole team together." Something plucked cruelly at his heartstrings at the thought of his almost complete team and the last missing member, and he found himself pausing to swallow a lump in his throat.

"How did we manage to wield an infinity stone and survive?" She asked, her voice hushed as she leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Yeah, I was confused about that at first, too, but it turns out I-"

"Peter! There you are!" Kraglin came trotting around the corner just then, looking like he'd been jogging for a while. Peter was a little miffed at having their moment ruined, but he didn't want Yondu to find out that Peter knew about his father, so he supposed the conversation was over for now.

"Hey Kraglin."

"Sorry to int'rupt your time with the pri-sah- the guest, but the Cap' was hopin' to have another conversation now that you're r'covered enough after the fight."

Peter snorted at that. The conversation Yondu wanted was more than likely just yelling at him some more about the cost of ship repairs and the risk he was taking harboring a fugitive from both Thanos and whatever other authorities had bounties on her head.

"Yeah, yeah. Might as well get it over with." Peter rose and stretched the tingling from his legs. "I'll be back for lunch." He promised Gamora with a wink before following Kraglin back the way he'd come, shoveling food into his mouth as he walked.

-x-

The conversation with Yondu went about as well as he could have hoped. After he got his fill of verbally lashing Peter, they eventually settled down into talking actual business. For now Yondu planned to lay pretty low. They'd made a couple jumps while Peter was out, but they were still pretty deep into what Yondu refered to as 'Ronan's territory.' Sopposedly, there was a contact that was pretty trusted that they were working to arrange a drop with to dump the evidence of their raid pretty quickly.

Until then, they were drifting through some poorly charted systems that afforded easy hiding while they repaired their ships. Speaking of. It seemed that the Milano was down for the count after whatever that beam had done to its systems. It looked like they were making the Eclector their home for the time being.

After his meeting with Yondu, Peter made his way to check on his ship in person.

The Milano was right where he had left it the night before, held up by cables rather than its own landing system which had been unable to deploy. Its vibrant colors were muted under a layer of the same ashen dust that had covered the outer facilities of Half-world, and the gears to the access ramp, which had been manually forced open, were impacted with dirt. Overall, it was a pretty depressing sight to behold. The inside did little to change that impression. No lights were working, so he'd had to stumble around with just the light that filtered in from the bay.

As he dug around in the emergency kit for the glowsticks and waited for his eyes to begin adjusting, something in the corner moved. Peter nearly dropped the entire kit as he spun to face the threat, only to let out a breath of relief when he recognized Groot's hunched up silhouette.

"Hey Groot. You startled me, lurking in the shadows like that." Peter chastised as he fished a handful of glowsticks out.

"I am groot." Came the whispy reply.

"You're hiding silently in a dark corner of an unlit ship. That's basically lurking."

"I am groot." His voice was like wind rattling through a dead forest.

An idea struck and Peter snapped several of the sticks, activating them and lining them up along the ceiling with the attatched magnets to provide him with some makeshift lighting. It was far from ideal, but he could make out what he needed.

Down by his knees was a panel about 5 feet long. Behind it was the water tank that fed into the small kitchen area. Crouching down, he felt along the edges until he found the little divet he was looking for and pried it open with a screwdriver from the kit he'd placed down beside him. The tank was designed to come out manually and allow crewmembers access to water in the event of a crash or system failure. After turning a couple knobs to block the flow between the pipes, he grabbed the handle that was built into the 20-gallon storage tank and hauled it out of the wall.

"Here you go, bud. This'll help you feel better." Groot looked up with an almost heartbreaking expression of hope as Peter dragged the tank across the floor to him. 20 gallons were heavy. Once he had the tank settled at Groot's side he unscrewed a lid from the top and Groot uncurled to dip his arm into the water. Peter was surprised to see that during his rest, he had made no attempt to regrow the arm that had been cut off. A wave of shame washed over him when he realized that he had been so distracted with Gamora and his own exhaustion that he hadn't even thought to do this before.

Groot quickly drained the tub and Peter lifted the now very light container and slid it back into the wall to fill it up again. They went through another tank and a half before the Collosus seemed to have had his fill, curling up into a looser expression of the pose he'd found him in. Peter thought he looked a little better, but it was hard to tell under the faint green glow of the tubes above.

After their victory on Xandar, Rocket had rigged up a set of specialized high UVA/B lights just for Groot that had helped him grow. All space faring ships had a standardized low level of UV for the crew's health, but with Groot's condition, he would probably be better off with the higher powered ones. The lights on the Milano now were useless, but the Ravagers might still have some plant lights stowed away somewhere from a brief period in which a few of them had decided to take up an illegal form of botany. Yondu had come down on them like a hammer when he found them wasting the ship's resources on 'recreational activities,' but he doubted the lights would have just been jettisoned.

"How does a little plant light sound, bud?" He asked.

"I am groot!" Groot's eyes had lost the sunken faded appearance and Peter was pretty sure that if he leaned in he could make out entire galaxies in the huge puppy dog eyes that shone up at him.

By the time Peter had tracked down the old lights - buried under about an inch of dust in the very back of one of the lower storange units - and set them up in an out-of-the-way-but-still-close room, his stomach was starting to rumble. A half a dozen lamps sat wherever they could fit among the shelving in what was probably once a janatorial closet, but appeared to be used to store outdated ship parts nowadays. Groot was settled happily underneath them, eyes closed and looking almost content as he soaked up their beams.

"Alright bud. You stay here as long as you like. The hangar is just down the hallway, third access door on the right and up a small flight of stairs. Got it?"

Groot just hummed and nodded his head once.

"Great. I'm going to go grab myself some lunch and check on Gamora. I'll be working on repairs later, so if you need me just go to the ship." With that he backed out of the room and made his way back to the main kitchen, whistling tunes as he went.

-x-

The crew was certainly feeling their oats after the firefight and Peter easily scored a hearty meal piled high with meat and veggies and a mug of Ravager's beer, and a twin platter with water for Gamora which he balanced across his bad arm.

The smell of the food was torture as he hurried towards Gamora's cell. His stomach was starting to speak in tongues by the time he made it around the last corner to find her doing pushups on the floor of the holding room.

"I brought lunch." He called, sliding her tray under the door like he had that morning. While she stood and stretched languidly, Peter flopped down in front of the door and finally tucked into his own food.

"Thank you." She said in a soft voice when she finally took her tray and joined him, mirroring his position on her side of the bars.

"S'no pwoblm." He mumbled out, still not looking up as he scarfed down his lunch.

"Not for the lunch." Peter finally paused and glanced up to see her staring at him intently, tray balancing untouched across her lap. "For... Halfworld."

Peter swallowed his last bite and sat up straighter to meet her gaze, his fork clinking softly as he rested it against his own tray.

"Really, it was no problem. I am just so happy to have you back. I've missed you."

The tug on the corner of her lips definitely wasn't his imagination this time, and neither was the way her eyes softened just the tiniest bit before she broke from his gaze to study her own plate of food.

"Regardless, I am grateful for what you have done for me."

They ate in silence for a while after that, but when Peter had finished his meal he found he didn't want to leave just yet.

"Would you mind if I asked you something?"

"Of course not. What do you need to know?" She answered, placing her fork across her tray and sliding it back out, apparently done eating. He wasn't used to her being so formal, usually there was at least a layer of good-natured challenge or 'your an idiot Peter' to all of their conversations, but then, this Gamora hadn't been through hell and back with him, didn't know that he had nearly died for her, and was locked up in a fake prison cell on a ship overflowing with ravagers and maniacs. He didn't blame her for playing it close to the vest and testing the waters.

"I was hoping you could tell me more about this half-world place. About... the security there."

"You're worried about your friend."

"Yeah, how did you know?" He asked, surprised.

"I pieced it together." She said with a mysterious grin. "I was watching the security feeds from my ship. And you talk in your sleep. Quite loudly."

Peter frowned at that. He'd certainly been known to mumble nonsense frases from time to time, and had once woke an entire room of ravagers including himself by screaming about a Mars and Spagetti, but it was rare that it ever made any sense. When he thought back to the dreams he'd been having, however, a shudder ran through his body. Who knows what he could have been mumbling about.

"What was I saying?" He asked hesitantly, a heat creeping across his face.

"Nothing uncouth." She assured him with a quick smile. "You spoke of leaving someone behind. Cried for your team to turn around over and over. I guess they didn't listen."

"No." Peter sighed, pulling Gamora's half-eaten tray over and stacking it on top of his empty one. "They didn't."

"After that you called out to your father for a while before falling silent."

Peter was suddenly glad that he had finished his food already because the thought of calling out to that bastard, unconscious or not, cured any appatite he had left.

"Who did you leave behind?" Her soft tone was like a balm on his rattled nerves.

"Rocket. One of the guards. About yay big, striped tail, round ears." Peter mumbled, gesturing to just over his shoulder height as he sat, shoulders sagging slightly. He had lost his earlier good mood.

Gamora tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips.

"I don't know much about that place, or the guards. I never spent a lot of time there. But I am sure that your friend is fine. Korath will be much too busy hunting us down to worry about a guard that you have no connection to."

"Okay. Thanks." Her answer didn't make him feel much better. His friend was still trapped on that barren ball of ash that was probably made out of all his worst fears. Willing or not, he had left his best friend in his own personal hell. Sitting here sulking wasn't going to help, though. The sooner he got the Milano up and running, the sooner they could figure out a plan to get back there. With a fresh wave of purpose Peter grabbed the trays and stood.

"I'm going to go work on my ship, but I'll be back again. Thanks for answering my questions."

"Of course." She smiled back.

-x-

Repairing the ship proved a lot harder than he had expected. With a strangled growl Peter threw the wrench he had been holding across the dim cockpit to bang against the far wall and clatter to the floor. Whatever that beam had done had fried all the systems. He'd been working for hours and still couldn't get even one screen to flicker to life. At this point he would throw a party if he could get a wire to even spit out a spark at him. If he wasn't so attatched to his ship he would have declared it totalled.

He could do the basic maintenance and repairs in his sleep, but this was beyond his expertise. This was really more up Rocket's alley, or even Nebula, who seemed to have a pretty strong grasp of mechanics. The thought of the blue assassin brought up a wave of annoyance. She'd been so scarce since the battle that had it not been for Kraglin's reassurance that she was still around, he would have assumed she'd stolen a ship and abandoned them all. He had some questions about Rocket and Halfworld that only she could answer, and at some point he would have to actually appologize to her face for his outburst, but she had remained stubbornly absent.

With a gusty sigh he flopped into the pilot's chair and closed his eyes. He didn't have time for this. Every hour he spent on the Eclector it drifted further from the Keystone Quadrant.

He must have drifted off without realizing it, because he awoke some time later to find Nebula standing over his chair, the orb with the infinity stone held up in her mechanical hand. For a brief delerious moment he thought she was there to kill him in his sleep and flinched back in the seat so hard it actually hurt.

"Geeze! Nebula! Don't do that!" He shouted as soon as he could form words.

"We have a problem." Was her only response.

"Yeah," He gasped out, holding a hand up to his hammering heart. "It's that you're a psycho and I think you just shaved five years off of my life."

"No, it's that that beam disabled the orb containing the infinity stone, and all of the other ones that had been on this ship as well." Now that Peter looked closer, he noticed a faint purple light leaking from the seams of the orb. The tips of her cybernetic fingers were also laced with a few spiderwebs of purple where they met with the failing containment unit.

"Shit." He hissed, elbowing her out of the way so he could get up. "Yondu must have some working ones around here somewhere. I'll go look for one. I could use a break from this anyways." He waved his hands with exasperation at the dormant ship around them before stalking down the ladder.

"Just stay here." He called out over his shoulder. "I don't want anyone else knowing about that D'ast thing."

-x-

Finding a new Containment unit took much longer than it necissarily should have. Mostly because Peter couldn't just ask where one was. All news got back to Yondu, one way or another, and he didn't want to get stuck explaining this one.

Eventually he uprooted one from the depths of a crate full of smuggling supplies and hid it against his side as he made his way back. One perk to his broken finger was that no one questioned him as he awkwardly hugged the casted hand to his side. At least the pain had mostly subsided from his poor attempt at a landing, no damage had been done and it continued to heal well enough.

The sight of Drax sitting on the access ramp, several healing packs attatched to his side and covering the hole on his neck, and Kraglin standing on the bay floor beside him, greeted him on his return. They appeared to be in the middle of a discussion, but their voices cut out as Peter drew near.

"Hey Pete." Kraglin called, giving him a little wave.

"Oh, hey Kraglin. What's going on?" Peter shifted to make sure that the unit was completely hidden from the first mate's view.

"Nothin' much. Just checkin' on how the repairs are goin'. Your arm buggin' you?"

"No, no, I mean, yes. Kinda. No big deal, though." Peter circled his way up the ramp as he spoke. Kraglin's eyebrows crept towards his hairline as he tracked Peter's progress, but he made no move to follow or stop him. "I'll just, duck inside real quick. Gotta grab some pain meds, or something. Be right back."

As soon as he was out of sight he shot up the ladder, taking it two rungs at a time. With the light that filtered in through the dusty windows he was surprised to find Nebula laying on her back and buried waist deep in the control panel.

He was debating how best to get her attention without getting kicked for his efforts when she seemed to sense he was near and slid herself out from the tangle of wires.

"Did you find one?" She demanded, sitting up.

"Yeah. This should hold it for a while." He handed her the new unit and watched as she leaned back to grab the stone from where she had hidden it inside of the console with herself. Careful to only handle it with her cybernetic hand, she managed to open the disabled orb and slam the new one down on the exposed stone before it could make a grab for the nearest lifeforms. The stone was probably exposed for less than a second, but in that blink Peter was again thrown back into the void. This time he swore he could hear the voices from his dreams calling out to him and feel something reaching for him. Whatever it was struck a terror in him so deep he couldn't breath. A huge shuddering gasp left him as he returned to the Milano's bay and he had to grip one of the seats to keep from falling down.

"Peter." Nebula called out, the concern in her voice was the first emotion he'd heard since the cold indifference she had treated him with since Halfworld.

By the time he found his breath and gathered himself enough to force out an 'I'm fine,' it was gone again, and she was staring up at him with those eyes that were impossible to read in the shadows.

"The ship's engines are completely fried." She informed him, back to empy indifference as though none of the last 20 seconds had happened. "I believe that it would be best to scrap it and find a new vessel."

"I won't do that." He promised, crossing his arms stubbornly and preparing to defend his ship to the death. The corner of her mouth twitched as though she had been expecting that response and rather than try to argue her point, she actually reclined back and returned to fiddling with the exposed wiring. With no clue what to make of her sudden compliance, he decided to just go with it. He had a better shot at fixing the ship entirely on his own than he did understanding Gamora's angry sister.

"Alright, well, I promised Kraglin I'd be back so I'd better go before he gets suspicious." As he spoke he stumbled his way backwards towards the ladder. "Just holler if you need anything I guess?" The only answer he got was a grunt that could just as easily been her struggling with the wiring as it was an actual response to him. Peter ducked down into the common room below, more than happy to leave the stone behind him for now.

Down below, Drax was as he had left him, but Kraglin seemed to have left. There was no sign of him in the hangar as far as Peter could see.

"Hey Drax." Peter greeted, taking a seat next to his friend on the ramp and staring aimlessly out into the open bay. "How're you doing?"

"I am well. My wounds have been seen to and do not bother me." The red soaking through the bandage on his neck made Peter think otherwise, but he wisely stayed silent on the matter. The sight also reminded him that he needed to talk to the ship's tailor about fixing the bloody stain on the inside of his duster.

"How are your latest companions?" Drax asked.

"Groot's healing up. I set up a sunning room for him. Gamora's settling in fine as well. She should be out as long as she's supervised by the next cycle. I'll be taking her dinner in a bit if you want to join us?"

"No. I am content here. And I would advise you to be careful of her trickery. You are filled with optimism and false ideas of friendship, and it makes you stupid."

"Wow. Geeze. Thanks Drax." Peter replied with an unamused glare.

"You are most welcome." As usual, Drax saw nothing wrong with his blunt but honest words and took Peter's sarcastic thanks as true gratitude. Sometimes Peter entertained the notion that Drax did understand his sarcastic quips and did this just to annoy him.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. Yeah, she's the most dangerous woman in the galaxy, but why would she want to do anything to hurt us? Thanos destroyed her home, killed her family, just like he killed yours. She is literally the last of her people, and has no reason to be loyal to him now that she's free."

"And how do you know she won't simply vanish as soon as we reach the next planet?"

Peter opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering that one. It was a fair point. Gamora hadn't actually been looking for help when they'd first met. Forming the Guardians had only become necessary when the orb was taken back by Ronan, and all of Xandar and the safety of the galaxy was at risk.

"We have an opportunity to save millions of lives, and the means to do it. She'll help us."

Drax didn't look at all convinced.

"If you don't believe me just wait and see for yourself. As soon as the Milano is fixed, you, me, Groot, Nebula and Gamora are going back to halfword and saving Rocket, and you'll be glad to have her watching your back."

"Why would she be watching my back if not to stab me in it?" Drax scrunched his brows together in confusion.

"It's a saying, it just means-"

"I would feel much better if she were watching the enemy."

"She would be, I just meant-"

"Or the surroundings, if there were no enemies in sight."

"Please stop. I just meant that she would come in- that she would be very helpful to have during a fight since she is very skilled. I don't think we'll be convincing Yondu to go back there any time soon."

"Regardless, we will need a ship for our assault. I would suggest one equipped for a larger crew."

"Not happening. We saved the galaxy once in the old Milano, and we can do it again. I'm not losing my ship."

Drax just gave an exasperated shrug. "The entire thing has been broken. How long will it take to repair it?" He asked.

"If Rocket were here, he'd probably have it flying already." Peter thought out loud as he pulled his knees towards his chest. "For now we just have to wait and see what Nebula can do for it. If I can catch one of the ship mechanics I'll see if they have any suggestions, but everyone's pretty busy with repairs to the main fleet."

Drax nodded his head slightly and Peter could sense this conversation was coming to an end.

"It's getting pretty late." He stated, standing up from his seat on the ramp." I'm going to go check on Groot and have dinner with Gamora. The offer to join us is still open."

With that he turned and wandered off towards the staircase that would lead him to Groot's sunning room. He always hating waiting, but at least things were getting done, and next cycle Gamora should be able to come with him around the ship, so he would focus on that small victory for now.

end