3656/Burnout Paradise

Burnout Paradise
Date of Scene:	10 February 2018
Location:	Knowhere
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Gamora, Warbird, Star-Lord, Rocket Raccoon

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Gamora has posed:
The Burnout is an experience, to say the very least. Neon holographic projections displaying all manner of activities on Knowhere as well as products for sale in this very establishment itself. All manner of species meander about inside of the bar and there's a fairly high noise valume here, conversations abound, music thumping and the thick presence of a foggy haze from all the strange activities going on here, from food preparation to narcotics being fired-up and inhaled.

Gamora was here for another night, because it was better than settling on the ship or getting herself into trouble out in the darker corners of the rather illicit and dangerous space platform / wayward home to those of lesser moralities.

The green skinned woman walked down the main staircase, stepping around people leaving and taking a moment to talk to some people who know here at the foot of the stairs.

Warbird has posed:
    At the foot of the stairs is a somewhat powerful figure, that has been dwarfed by the company she has come to keep in the time since landing on Knowhere and calling it 'home'.

    Home more for her ship than herself, but either way, home is where you park it. Right?

    Ava, sits on a metal stool next to the incredibly small table she's claimed for the group with a white milky drink in her hand. "Gamora!" She says, raising a voice, "Good to see you back in the land of the dumb." The warrior teases with a boisterous voice and a huge wave of her hand, causing her drink to slosh dangerously, but not out of her glass, not yet. That is reserved for the wide open motions she takes while speaking, "Here, we have a prime locale table." And her drink goes all over a yellow, reptillian like alien with more plate on his body than some dragons wear. Shle then turns around and wipes the drink off shler back with the third arm that extrudes from shler spinal column.

    <You spilled your drink on me avian wench!> Shle bellows in shler native tongue, a series of growls, grunts, slithers, and snarls. At the same time, five others at shler table stand up and the KA-CHUNK WHIRRRR sound of blasters being charged and loaded sounds off as they all rise up.

Star-Lord has posed:
The thump of the music stops with a screech of static, then suddenly the music starts up again, but it's not Kree Synthcore anymore, it's KISS's "I Wanna Rock and Roll all Night" and unsurprisingly in walks Peter Quill, pocketing the little device he used to hack the Burnout sound system, again.

He bounds down the steps only to freeze midway down when he sees people getting tot heir feet with weapons in their hands. "Wow, that usually doesn't happen until after I've had a chance to get a drink or two,," he reaches down and draws both his element guns. "Whoa guys, sit your asses down, you don't know who you're messing with here," he tries to warn the table full of armed aliens while he takes aim at the offended party.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
Lesser Moralities.

Rocket Raccoon resembles such lesser...ness. It's just the way it is. Don't hate him 'cause he's cute and fluffy. And stop staring at that almost mangy seeming spot on his shoulder. It's a -condition-.

All the same, Rocket is sitting with his pals. For once he isn't snookering miners on leave of their poorly earned credits. He's just drinking. A huge mug of some golden drink with little sworls of silver rippling through it is before him. A drink he fully intends to get to the bottom of. Before he gets to the bottoms of the serving girl (yes, plural bottoms, singular girl. Isn't space great?) afterward. But then things suddenly went to shazivt and weapons are being powered up.

Sighing deeply, Rocket sulks, "Y'know. I was rilly lookin' forward t' gettin jiggy wit' da servin' girl later." He looks at Gamora and Warbird, "Ya DID know that. Right? And then ya just had ta go ain' cause a ruckus..." He shakes his head, "I can't go drinkin' wit' anybody anymore!"

Gamora has posed:
Gamora had barely gotten into the pub before Warbird caused a scene?

Her green eyelids blinked and watched the bird-woman react to the bodies drawing the weapons while she? She just stood there with her hands at her sides. Her attention turned to look toward PEter when she heard the Earth-music start (obviously it was his doing) and when he showed up coming down the stairs and talking out to the aggressors, Gamora just ended up beside him with her arms coming up to cross defensively over her stomach... She then looked to Rocket and smirked at what she heard him say. Classy Raccoon should've been his name, she thought to herself.

In the end though, Gam just regarded the aggressors, having not said anything... if she had to cut some limbs off tonight, she was fine with that, her sword was on her back.

Warbird has posed:
    "Hey, you got guns? We got guns..." Ava says being interrupted by basically the whole team of the Guardian's of the Galaxy, mostly Peter pulling out his weapons. "Yeah. What he said." The warrior woman says, as she crosses her arms across her belly and with a hand twisted to grasp a hilt each she draws both weapons across her body and holds them with tips pointed upwards towards her foes faces.

    There's a great roar that echoes through the whole of Burnout and the barkeep flicks a switch beneath the bar and instantly all the weapons are pulled up towards the ceiling. Don't ask how, don't ask why, just understand that they do. Wether you let got or not is up to you. So, all weapons drawn and in the open are yanked to the roof of the building or dragging up their weilder.

    Warbird and the Five five limbed alien let go of all their weapons and the feather headed woman pops her neck as she lifts her fists, "Alright you skaalblast-lickers! BRING IT!" She says before jumping literally over thier heads and diving into the many arms of the aliens.

    The five aliens all snarl and snake their tongues tasting the air, sensing the heat of the room and their foes before their guns are stripped from their hands and Warbird is leaping through the air at their leader, or at least the one she spilled on. The two on the right swing around and move in towards Rocket, while the two on the left scale the stair case with long claws and close in towards Gamora and Peter.

Star-Lord has posed:
"Not cool!" Peter complains when his guns are torn from his hands and stuck to the ceiling. He points a finger at the barkeep. 'I better get those back at the end of the night!" he shouts.

When one of the aliens jumps past Gamora to lunge at Peter, Peter engages his boosters to jump right over him.

"And it's Quill off the top rope!" he taps his elbow twice, cuts his booster and drives his falling ebow into the back of the lizard alien's head.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
"WHAAAAAT THAAAA HEELLLL???!"

There is a (usually) four foot tall sentient raccoon flying through the air and hanging from the ceiling. "Da fu...!" writhing he is thrashing and clawing at the straps to his weapons. Who knew that a wild little furry thing could be taken out of the fight by velcroing him to the ceiling?

It doesn't last too long, though. Grabbing the harness clasps he tugs them open just in time to free fall the some-odd feet down onto these odd (and fugly) trouble makers. "Waaaagggg!" he hollers as he lands atop the head of one.

It was almost like he planned it.

Gamora has posed:
There's a reason Gamora didn't pull her weapons... now the boys were seeing precisely what the reason was. She just smirked and slowly shook her head at both Quill and Rocket's reaction to them. At Warbird though, she just huffed in irritation. "Why is that everyone we bring in on this group has to be a whole new creator of trouble." She'd say just before a foe would rush at her?!

"I didn't even DO anything!" Gamora snapped at the large burly man with four eyes (literally) who'd been using all four of them to look her over since she'd got here.

Gam's reaction to having him charge at her? Let him. When he tried to wrap his arms around her she easily shoved them aside and then nimbling scaled the man's body until she was swept up and around his shoulders and straddling them from behind.

With super strength powering her fists, Gamora started to double-punch either sides of the big ugly monster's head between her thighs while he flailed around and then dropped down to his knees, trying to reach up and grab her!

Warbird has posed:
    On top of the Alien lizard thing, Ava is actually laughing as she cocks back a heavy left hook to smash into the things eye socket causing several blood vesels to not only burst in the subdermal, but to actually prolapse the things opposite eye on the other side of it's head. The warrior of the Shi'ar race cackles at the glee of an actual fist fight she can win against a foe when a second opponent from another table rears up behind her and with a barstool cocked back over the things shoulder, held telekinetically, it brings down the metal chair across Ava's back. Warbird cries out in a shriek of pain as she tumbles head over heals into the holotable showing one of the sabaac games from the other side of the galaxy and the images flicker once before the whole system is shut down from the trauma of being nailed by the Shi'ar exile.

Star-Lord has posed:
Lizard guy? Knocked the heck out. So naturally Peter rides his unconscious carcass down the stairs until he can leap off and do a double footed Kirk kick to the gut of Gamora's guy as he's toppling to his knees!

"Coming through!" Peter whoops as his boots drive into the alien's considerable gut.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
So a four foot tall talking raccoon is atop a huge lizard...thing. All that is needed is for a Rabbi to walk in the door for the setup to be perfect. But, no. Instead, Rocket is screaming at the top of his little fuzzy lungs, "Want! My! Guns! BACK!" as he claws and scratches and bites and punches the lizard thing in the brain pan. It appears to be a one sided fight as the lizard's eyes rolled back into its reptilian skull after the first five seconds. Rocket doesn't seem to have noticed.

Or just doesn't care.

Gamora has posed:
A couple of people come up behind Gamora and rip her off of the big guy she was pummeling and toss her backward, which she respond to with a backward sommersault and then springs back up to her feet.

Her eyes dart around at all of her coherts and a slight shake of her head is given before she's charged at and when she leaps at the two other women, they clothes-line her... identical twins from the planet Twinsonia (everyone from there is a twin or has a twin!).

Down and into a crowd of other people the two identical matching women forcefully shove Gamora (they must be strong too!) and started to counter-pummel her with punches and kicks!

This has really turned into a wonderful night...

Warbird has posed:
    Witness me!
    The barroom has exploded into a frenzy, everyone is in on the action, including the barkeep having drawn his own stun gun. More like a Krogan cattle-prod. Which isn't for their cattle, as they don't have any, but it is instead meant to motivate the mother-in-krog's to get off the backsides and raise the progeny. ANYWAYS! This zap-stick is shoved into the upper kidneys of a creature who then shakes violently and topples to the ground with a high pitched hissing sound like a balloon being pinched and released.

    That catches no one's attention as the Shi'ar warrior who's upside down on her head agaisnt he holotable, lowers her legs enough for her toes to touch the ground when she shakes her head in a cough. "This, is, the, best!" She jeers, shaking her limbs joyously before pushing up with her arms and bounding to land on top of the table someone ruined with her back. "COME AND FACE THE MIGHT OF THE SHI'AR!" Ava bellows before diving face first as though she was crowd surfing, onto a huddle of rhino-men and robot mercenaries.

Star-Lord has posed:
Peter is having fun, he decks one guy, then kicks another, he digs into his pocket and the music switches from KISS to Carl Douglass' 'Everybody's Kung Fu Fighting'.

The Krogan cattle prod thought, that tears it, time to get their weapons back. Peter, kicks a brawler away from him then, kicks in the boosters, rocketing (heh) over to Rocket to grab the murder floof and taking him up to the ceiling where all their weapons were stuck. "Alright buddy, do your thing and shut the whatever it is that's stealing our guns!"

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
If there is one manner one might use to approach an angry sentient raccoon murder ball, well, from behind is probably the closest thing to safe. It isn't. But it could be assumed to be safe. Many have made the same mistake. Once.

"GED-OFFA-ME-YA-FARGIN-ICEHOLE-SUN-UVA-BICH!!"

<Insertt Richard Attenborough's voice here> "And here we see that even a member of the murder ball's own familial unit can make the dire mistake of trying to pick it up. Alas. I should think it is a mistake that shan't be repeated again...."

Rocket's claws and teeth seem to find ways to rotate in all directions as he tries to bite at the jackhole that had the balls to pull him off his target. Quill will have scratches. Maybe even a few bite marks. But at least Rocket's up on his distemper shots. Or should be. Maybe.

Somehow Quill manages to return Rocket to the ceiling. If that makes any sense, it shouldn't.

"WUT-THE-FUG-ER-YA-DOIN-POUTTIN-ME-UP-HERE-QUILL?? COME-BACK-AN-I'LL-BITECHUR-ASS!!"

Rocket swipes and flails with one paw while the other clings to his weapon harness (that is still stuck to the ceiling). He turns toward his harness and grabs a little techno-widget from it. "QUILL!!! Sure hope yer guns are EMP shielded!" He sneers a vicious little sneer and pushes the little red button and tosses the palm sized cylinder of doom into the center of the bar.

It fizzles.

It hisses.

It pops.

It sounds as if it suffers from iritable bowel syndrom (with diarrhea).

Then it erupts in a brilliant flash of light as the EMP blast washes across the barroom, proceeding to fry and short out every electronic device or circuit within 30 meters.

<Richard Attenborough, again> "Unfortunately for the little Murder Ball, it realizes too late that even it is subject to the laws of physics. Such as gravity.

Rocket lands on the floor in a heap. But his paw rises up holding the grip of his blaster. It begins to hum in an ever higher pitch. He grinning. It's bad when Rocket grins.

Warbird has posed:
    Rocket's EMP works well. Incredibly well. Impossibly well.

    All the weapons fall to the floor, some with creatures and people between the metal floors and the heavy, pointed, sharp, and unusual weaponry. The entire bar is now a raining hell zone of artillerly, small arms, and nearly any kind of blade you could think of.

    In the sudden down pour of weapons Ava catches one of her blades and someone elses lazer blaster, leveled at another of the Snake-lien's pointed skulls and she squeezes the trigger.

    And she squeezes the trigger again.

    And one more time just to make sure.

    It's not doing anything. Warbird twists the gun to look at it curiously with a puzzled frown on her avian face. The EMP worked way too well. Outside the bar lights begin to flash into the windows as well as the sound of Security Sector sirens, meaning the fuzz is here.



    With a heavy black eye and some dried blood caked from her nose down to her chin, Ava looks up from her electro-cuffs towards the other Guardians and shows off her toothy smile, she starts a sentence hoping the other's catch on. "THAT!"

Gamora has posed:
Gamora had slipped under a table and escaped any shred of harm from the Twinsonians that were trying to pummel her. She used the table as a shield from all the dangerous periphinelia that Quill and Rocket caused to fall down from the sky above... but she did see a rather nice collector's item knife land right in the top of someone's foot, so whilst that someone was screaming and cursing, Gamora grabbed it and yanked it out then rolled out from under the table and slipped the knife into the back of her pants under her belt.

She was on her way out of the Pub when the authorities arrived and they detained her before most others were even grabbed. "Again?" She said, sighing and offering her hands and arms to them.

... Gamora stood along with the others, she had so many cuffs on that they went from her wrists up to her biceps and she knew she could still break out of them if she got angry enough.

"I did not want to sleep in a place smelling of foreign body odors and other people's urine. I wanted to sleep in my USUAL space... with all of your body odors and urine stenches." She angrily spat out all of her companions, while the whole lot of them were being processed.

Star-Lord has posed:
Peter had halfway picked the lock on his shackles when Gamora makes her hurtful remark. "Hey!" Peter protests before he gives himself a sniff. "Ugh," he groans leaning away from his coat. "Fine. I reek, but to be fair, that's not my urine."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
".... thought that was the small one..." Rocket mutters as he shuffles off in cuffs with the rest. "Guess I'll hafta make a SMALLER small one.." His ears are laid back as he sulks. He looks at Gamora. "C'mon Gams. It's not like this was OUR fault." He stabs a claw toward Warbird, "SHE did it. Lecture her!"