2186/Support Group for Robots

Support Group for Robots
Date of Scene:	26 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Indigo, Gamora, Angela, Gothic Lolita

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Indigo has posed:
    If there's one thing about having a Brainiac's processing power, it's that you can run through the emotional gamut pretty quickly when you absolutely have to. Indigo gets herself under control in about a minute and gets up from her hiding spot in the engine room to totter on over to a bucket full of oil rags. She dabs her eyelids and wipes the snot off her jacket sleeves. She knows she can't fool the Guardians about what she was doing in here--Gamora's the only one who doesn't know her well enough to know what that was all about, and she's still too perceptive to have missed the weirdness--but there's no need to rub her misery in their faces. They've been through too much on her account already.
    Indigo clears her throat (another contrivance of her hardware, since her sinuses don't drain down the back of her throat), straightens her jacket, and focuses on her family. Yes. Good. That's better. More clean.
    Indigo reemerges from the engine room to the cargo hold, forcing herself to look each of her crewmates in the eye even though her cheeks are purple with embarrassment. "Um, everyone... I'm sorry about just now. I know that was awkward. I'm just dealing with a little bit of trauma from my reactivation, and every now and then I just need to make a little space for myself to process what I'm going through. I'll do my best not to draw you into it, but sometimes I'm not going to be able to help myself, and I just want you to know I understand if that's something you need space from as well."

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora's face twists, caught off-guard. She looks around, furitively, and picks up one of the guns she'd purloined from the pirates, and sits down on a crate. She goes with what she knows. She begins to pull the gun apart. She'd done it ten times before, to make herself familiar with the model while she'd been waiting for the Milano to pick her back up.
    Now? Now it's a convience so she doesn't have to try and deal with those irritating things Peter calls 'emotions'. She can move into a practical mindset. Logical. Simplistic. Just like the gun she's currently stripping down.
    It turns out now is later. And Gamora is woefully unprepared to have this conversation. She hadn't even had time to rehearse it in her head. If she could only stab emotions with the Godslayer ...
    "We are already in it," Gamora says, curtly. But her curtness is not directed to Indigo. It's - well, it's Gamora. "You were weaponized. Manipulated. And you broke free. It does not matter if it is The Collector, or Thanos. We all fight."
    That counts as a pep talk, right?

Angela has posed:
    Angela has not said a word since the Milano took off. This, frankly, isn't all that surprising for her; the wingless angel can go entire trips through the universe without saying a single thing about all the splendors they see along the way. And she's -new- to 'the universe, in general.' This is different, though. The gravity underlying it is one of someone with a lot weighing on her mind -- of vengeful thoughts and considerations to dwell upon. It can weigh heavily, after all, when retribution goes undelivered.

    So, the huntress of Heven does not say a word as she makes her way out of the bridge of the Milano once they take up. She only pauses to offer Gamora a brief look, an exchange that says nothing with words -- but speaks volumes within the intensity of that stare. That secret language between people who have grown in very similar circumstances.

    They need to talk. Later.

    For now, by the time Indigo reemerges, Angela has taken to polishing Xiphos, running a cloth across the impossibly sharp edge of that mystical sword, sitting beside Gamora, when the gynoid's voice reaches her ears. White eyes shutter in a blink; the redhead looks up, and brows lift through Indigo's explanation. She listens, as Gamora speaks. And though she is severely lacking in ability to comfort in words, too, she tries her best.

    "Someone took from you," she explains, slowly, voice level and distant without being aloof. Like someone making their every word weighted with deliberation, "without paying the price of it. It will not stand. You will be made whole." She pauses, brows furrowed.

    "And you won't leave our side." Which is about as close as she can truly get to saying she's not going anywhere.
    

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    Lolita has found a place to sit, her eyes quiet. She has no weapons to tend...she really is the weapon, after all. And she feels no desire to return to her tailoring table, for whatever new dress she's started work on to replace the one she wears when she inevitably destroys it in combat.

    She's focusing on her memories..much like Indigo's, they can't really fade as much, though she at least has a process given to her by said gynoid that lets the pain fade a bit. But she's focusing on the pain now. That look on Indigo's face, that flinch, how she dashed off.

    A part of her ponders that when Indigo told her that she'd be able to feel shame or unhappiness over where her primary directive conflicted with her feelings...she somehow never expected she'd managed to feel ashamed just because of something she did without it being involved. Go her, she managed it.

    As Indigo returns, she lifts her head, her blue eyes finding the other gynoid's as she explains, quietly, why she had to leave. And the others speak and Loli, just...hesistates. AFraid to say something wrong now, as she search in her memories for what to say, before she says softly. "I'm sorry, It was thoughtless of me to bring it up like that. I could have waited until you weren't there to start explaining."

    Oddly, of the three, it's the mecha who just says what she feels. "If you need me, I will be there for you." she says patiently, then more softly. "I wish I could help more."

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo smiles a little, eyes shyly downcast again. "Angela, Gamora, I love you for caring, but I think it's important to understand what I'm going through isn't about the Collector. It's... my brain doesn't experience time exactly like yours does. I can't forget anything that's ever happened to me, like..." She swallows visibly and forces herself to just say it: "I died on the Collector's slab, and that's always going to be happening to me, because I'm always going to remember all of it. I'm going to be in that moment, dying, forever. But I'm always going to remember all of this moment too, with each of you being so kind to me, and now it's just a matter of learning to choose the right memories to focus on." She pauses. "Did that make sense to anyone other than Loli?" she asks a bit plaintively.

Gamora has posed:
    Extract the energy dissapator. Carefully. Twist the accelator conduit rod. Slowly extract. Then, pop the securing pins out with the least amount of torque. Gently, now. Gently.
    Each piece is set in a precise place, on an adjacent crate to where Gamora is sitting. The focused movements of stripping down the gun allowing her to do something other than be confused. Or, stalk. Or, want to punch something. Especially Peter. She's not sure if she's still mad at him, or not. She'll make up her mind later on that, most likely.
    Still, she'd not missed Angela's intention and there is the briefest nod of the woman in return to acknowledge and confirm: whenever Angela wishes to, Gamora will be around. It's unlikely she's going to let herself be 'dropped off' and left anytime soon given her recent experience.
    And as her attention slips back to the gun, and the final pieces to be broken down, she suggests to Indigo, "I remember everytime I died under the scientists under Thanos. They would bring me back to life. And then kill me again. To perfect my regenerative enhancements to my biological systems. I can still recall each one."
    The final gun piece is set down, reverently.
    Then, Gamora picks up that last piece. And she begins to slowly put the gun back together, inspecting each to make sure it is, in fact, clean. Which it, of course, is. Gleamingly so. "It is your choice to be here, now. You have already chosen the right memories."

Angela has posed:
    It's not a concept that Angela can quite understand, though perhaps not for the expected reasons; her lips turned towards a thoughtful frown as Indigo explains. Her white eyes go downcast, staring into their warped reflection stretched unevenly along the gleaming surface of her weapon. At this point, there's no reason to continue to polish it. It's a distraction. And paradoxically, a focus.

    "No," she finally says in answer to Indigo; her tone lined with a neutrality that seems more an attempt to exert some semblance of control than from actual dispassion. "But I know what it means to be cursed. When my people were cursed by the Allfather, our banishment tore us from the World Tree. We can no longer be reborn, or enter Valhalla, or any afterlife in this existence." She opens her eyes, and resumes work on her weapon anew. "When we die, there is nothing waiting for us."

    She says all of this so matter-of-factly that she might as well be talking about the dimensions of the ship. But they are the same, in essence. Facts, unchangeable, and unavoidable. "When one of my people die, I will never see them again. I'm simply..." Her sentence trails here, brows furrowed inward before she shakes her head, dismissing the thought entirely.

    "... it's not the case this day, however," and despite not saying it, the grateful edges of her tone speak to how she is happy, at least, for that much.

    "So I'll make you whole again. That is my word." And this time, at least, she doesn't mean through vengeance. ... Not entirely.
    

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    Lolita rests her hands in her lap, looking up at Indigo, then tilts forward a bit so she can actually meet those downcast eyes more directly with her own. And when she speaks, it's hesistant, quiet, but heartfelt...as much as she can be said to have a heart.

    "If I could take them for you, those memories, I would." she says simply, then looks at her hands in her lap again. She's never felt so out of her depth; as a combat machine, she always knows how to fight. Why can't her sister be here? She always knew what to say, when to hug, when to tease. She feels useless, and that's a feeling she doesn't like at all.

Indigo has posed:
    For a moment, the innocent heart that was Indigo is back. She's taking long strides across the cargo bay to kneel impulsively on the floor between Angela and Gamora, to rest her hands on their knees, and to look up at them with big, pink eyes. The lids are still puffy from crying. "Thank you both for sharing that with me," she says in a low voice before looking shyly over at Gothic Lolita to smile a little at her. "And thank you for being so kind, Loli. I've wanted to be a better friend to all of you for a long time, and now I can be." She shoots an apologetic look at Gothic Lolita before turning her attention back to Angela and Gamora, asking, "I know you two are protecting me and I'm so grateful, but can I ask you to promise you won't take any action against the Collector on this matter until I'm ready? I've thought through how I need to handle him, and there are provisions to be made before it's safe."

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora looks up to Indigo. Then, exchanges a look with Angela, briefly, her lip twisting downwards, slightly. Her eyes shift back to Indigo, even as her hands blindly snap the next piece of the gun into place. She's done it enough now she doesn't even need to look at it. That snap? Probably a bit louder than necessary. Bit harder, too. Not hard enough to crack the shell, though.
    Gamora exhales, "Fine."
    Hands move to collect the next piece to assemble, "Peter is all excited about this Riza 3 you told him about, anyways. It is likely enough he will insult the natives there, and we will have to fight them, anyways."

Angela has posed:
    "... It's nothing," insists Angela. But despite her dismissal, she still, finally, sets the Xiphos aside to let it rest upon her crate, apparently content now in more ways than one. She looks Lolita's way for a moment, before her gaze casts down upon the kneeling Indigo. The gynoid makes that request. The angel's expression steels, lips pulling towards a neutral, unreadable line.

    That look is shared with the assassin next to her. Her fingers twitch, eyes squeezing shut for one long moment...

    ... and then she simply reaches out to lay her hand briefly over Indigo's, the only real, nonverbal confirmation she can give right now that she'll behave. For given values of the word.

    "Unless it becomes necessary," is her lone caveat. Because there is only so much the huntress can really, honestly promise.

    Her hand lifting, Angela will just scoff afterwards at Gamora's words, arms crossing over her midsection as she leans back. "We will be at war with the planet before we leave." This, she's relatively sure of.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    
    Lolita looks back up, then frowns faintly, before saying supportively. "The Captain is a very likeable person, I'm sure he would not do anything that would enrage a basically peaceful people?" she says, though gets a bit questioning at the end. "But I think it would be beneficial to everyone aboard to have some time to...focus on different things."

    She peers over at the two warrioresses. "Even the two of you might find something entertaining to do, outside of the sparring?

Indigo has posed:
    Indigo rises from her knees and takes a few steps over to Gothic Lolita to squeeze her knee as well. She doesn't want anyone feeling left out. "I heard what you said about frivolity earlier," Indigo tells Angela shyly. "Frivolity is important to humans. Their brains can't sustain any one state for very long; they run out of the chemicals that allow them to maintain one emotion. They need variety. I guess it's different for angels, but maybe some time when you're not renewing your friendship with Gamora, you could come be frivolous with us and learn a little more about us?"

Gamora has posed:
    It's Gamora's turn to look at Lolita, now with a mildly pensive expression. "You don't know Peter like we know him," is all she says. Then, furthering her expectations of what will happen, "The most probable scenario is that he will be caught in bed with the leader of the planet's daughter. Who will take offense when either simply caught, or when Peter refuses to marry her on the spot."
    It almost sounds like she's speaking from expreience. The final piece of the gun is put together. There. Emotions? Handled. Gun? Still good as new.
    Gamora, winning.
    "So, Lolita. Are you staying?"

Angela has posed:
    "And it will have turned out he has stolen something of value while he was there, compounding his fate."

    Somehow, Angela says this without a hint of judgment, and that, truly, says something about how far she's come with the Guardians.

    White eyes shutter in a subdued blink at both Indigo and Lolita's offers. She looks between the two of them, gaze shifting back and forth between each before that unnatural gaze just squeezes shut.

    "Maybe," she concedes. It may not seem like much, but from her, it is considerable, all things considered. Her eyes reopened, she lifts her left leg to cross it over the right.

    "Angels have variations in our activities," she says a moment later, almost as an afterthought. "I hunted many different varieties of beasts in the fringes of Heven." She may not actually be a good example to defend her kind's variety of pastimes with. For now, though, she just quiets -- turning her attention back to Lolita at Gamora's question, as if curious herself.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    The dark-haired gynoid looks faintly suprised by the question, then tilts her head slightly. "I have no place else to go." she says simply. "I am the only one of my family I know is still active, and I'm far from the world I was built to operate on." She hesistates a bit. "...and, I like it here." she says softly, smiling a bit at Indigo as she pats her hand on her knee, looking serious. "So, unless you object to me being here...?" She's not sure exactly what Gamora thinks. But she can guess what it looks like. Possibly the first time she was slightly annoyed to actually be underestimated, anyway.

Indigo has posed:
    "I like you very much, Lolita," Indigo says seriously. It's just a fact. Maybe Angela's rubbing off on her. "And I know how much I owe you, so if you ever want to return to Earth, we can make it happen. But if you want to stay, I think that will make a lot of us very happy." She glances sidelong at Angela. "And I could say the same for you. I have a few ideas for ways to get you home, if you want."

Gamora has posed:
    "Peter wouldn't allow you on his ship if you either weren't one of his conquests of the day, or if you didn't add value to the crew," Gamora says, reasonably to Lolita. She remains seated, and turns slightly. "So tell me, at the very least - what can you do in a fight? You have stated you wished to learn combat abilities? I have mastered 83.4% of all known martial arts within the Galaxy and can efficiently use any weapon, be it a sword, a whip, or a firearm. If you watch me fight, you may learn some of this."

Angela has posed:
    "She's engineered for combat," comes Angela's very succinct note to Gamora, tilting her head Lolita's way. "She's capable and competent." And it might be a bit simple or spartan as far as compliments go, the angel's voice is nothing less than sincere. If she means to say more, though, it's stymied by Indigo's next words. White eyes turn towards the gynoid, brows lifting in unison. "You've thought of a way?" she asks, her voice tinged with surprise for a few rare moments before her expression simmers into a deeply-seated thought. Conflicted?

    "... Let's speak more on this another time," she finally says, after that lengthy silence. This, after all, is not a time for snap decisions.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    Lolita smiles a little bit at Indigo. "No. No, I don't want to go home." she says slowly, then tilts her head. "This is more home than anywhere I have been in some time.

    At Gamora's comment, she gets a faint twinkle in her eyes at the idea of Peter being interested in her. "I think I may intimidate him a bit. Or he has his eyes on someone else." she says, blandly. "But I am primarily a hand-to-hand combatant. Learning other styles and weapons would certainly be helpful if I'm going to be a useful member of the crew." She pauses, then adds. "...though I could easily rip this ship in half, if that's helpful?"

    She glances to Angela, dark eyes studying her, then nodding a bit as she decides to save it for another time. "If I can help you find your way home, I will help" she promises Angela."

Indigo has posed:
    Though she's still squeezing Lolita's knee supportively when she declares she wants to stay, Indigo shakes her head immediately at Angela. "No. I've thought of ideas. They need a lot more data to confirm or deny, but I have several methods in mind that would work at least in theory. We can discuss it more in private, since your personal experiences are going to be part of it."

Gamora has posed:
    Curiously enough, Gamora does not seem a lick interested in whomever Peter has an 'interest' in, according to Lolita. Still, it's doing wonders for her earlier grumpiness at having been kept waiting for so long. Instead, she looks curiously between Angela, and Indigo, her mouth setting into a thoughtful line, for a moment as she studies the two.
    "If you tore this ship in two, Rocket would probably become your worst enemy," she suggests to Lolita, not getting the fact that the gynoid is probably being sarcastic. She - much like Angela - deals in fact. The fact that the two robots here get sarcasm and human expressions better than two living beings is a little more than ironic.
    She turns her mind to other matters. "So where did we get all the weapons presently on the Milano, anyways? Those cost more collectively than twice our bounty on the open market."

Angela has posed:
    "Ideas..."

    Silence overtakes Angela, her eyes going downcast as Gamora looks her way. Her face is etched with an expression mired in thought, brows bound together in consternation and largely unmoving. She could almost be mistaken for a statue if it weren't for the way Lolita's words stir her out of whatever deep reverie she has lost herself in. Her head tilts up, distant gaze refocusing on the gothic-fashioned gynoid.

    "Then I will owe you a debt in kind," she assures, which essentially boils down to gratitude in the complicated language that is Angela -- inferred more in the edge of gratitude within those words' tone rather than the words themselves. "Both of you."

    For now, though, the huntress seems more than ready for a distraction -- and thus, her attentions turn towards Gamora as she speaks, a brow lifting in faint curiosity. "I was wondering the same. Were they," she thinks for a moment for the word they so love to use, "'borrowed'?"

Gothic Lolita has posed:
    Lolita hmms. "Well, he's already a bit upset with me for using up all his grenades." she admits. "But he said he was going to get lots more before he left. I'm not sure exactly where he was going to get them from, though.

    Being the only person present when the weapons in question were installed here currently, Loli hesitates. "Well...while I know Captain Quill acquired many of them on Knowhere....and as far as I know, he paid for them...the rest were provided by the Stardrake, who helped us." She hesistates, then decides not to use the 'battle' word again by elaborating that helped there too. "I'm presuming at least some of them are loans rather than intended to be permanent? Though perhaps many could be resold...."