4158/The Ship of no Answers

The Ship of no Answers
Date of Scene:	27 March 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Yondu pesters Gamora and Groot about the job he wants them to do.
Cast of Characters:	Yondu Udonta, Gamora, Groot

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Yondu Udonta has posed:
It's up to at least a dozen messages that Quill has pretty much ignored or ducked on the Milano's contact log. A few of them were answered. Things like 'Asteroid belt, call you back' or 'Space Tunnel!' or similar excuses. It's really just the usual pointlessness. Quill did have a run-in with Yondu a few days ago, and that stopped the calls for a little while. Until now, at any rate.

A new call shows up, call #13. From Yondu, of course. Like usual. But Quill isn't around to mute it, make a quick excuse, or get rid of the call, and it isn't specifically aimed at Star-Lord this time. It's an open-ended contact.

Beeeeep. It's just a beep, but it's almost like it has the disapproving sigh in the sound. Or maybe that's just the artificial air kicking up a notch.

Gamora has posed:
Since it was an open-call to the ship then it was beeping on all the monitors / terminals inside of the ship and thusly it was down in the crew bunks as well where Gamora was. She'd been cleaning up, hopped out of the shower, threw some clothes on and was about to go brush and dry off her hair when the call just KEPT BEEPING. With a heavy sigh / groan and a shake of her head she turns toward the comm station and she flicks it on.

Yondu will see the green skinned woman with her hair still wet and in disarray on either sides of her face. She looks mildly annoyed. "You've reached the ship where no one answers, ever." She says before knowing who it is. "How might I help you?" She asks, annoyance thick on her voice.

Yondu Udonta has posed:
"I /did/ notice dat, girl," Yondu's severe voice comes as a reply, and the visual pops on quickly. His voice always has a bit of an edge, but it's ruefully amused at being answered by Gamora: he didn't expect to be answered at all!

He is far back in the frame of the comm visual, because he's reclined way back at his current station, feet propped up: the soles of boots cover about half of the screen since they are so close to the camera source. He's not on the Eclector's bridge, these look more like his personal quarters in the back, splashes of color of various drapery that clash with the strong blue of his skin tone and warm earth tones of his attire.

"Milano be the ship tha' /needs/ no lucrative jobs anymore, I reckon?" Yondu grumps. "Thought maybe it was 'cause y'all starved, sittin in the dock there. You got a mechanical problem?" It isn't accusing, more curious.

Gamora has posed:
And while Yondus is talking, Gamora can be seen sitting down in front of the terminal in the Crew bunks of the Milano, her wet hair swaying side to side against her bright green skin. "Money issues we do not have." She says into the communication screen while she's rooting around on the desk in front of her. She manages to find a hair brush and starts to brush out her wet hair while staring at the monitor, slightly tilting her head to the left as she does this.

"Its a people issue." She tells him. "We need smarter ones." And she shows him a smirk then. "I know that you've been calling. I've been waiting for Peter to answer, but he seems to be mad at you. Again. So whatever's on your mind, you may as well just tell me and let me take care of it."

Groot has posed:
Groot creaks and cracks off some bark while he stretches, and he pulls his vines out of the nutrient brew in which they've been soaking while he's napped... rested... whatever it is great, big, and sentient plant-folk do. The beeps were enough to wake him and put him into denial -- most everyone whose calls he'd end up answering weren't much for deciphering his language, anyway -- but when Gamora picked up and began the conversation with Yondu, curiosity began to override boredom. Began. It could all be a fluff anyway, knowing Quill's dealings.

He stands up and twists a little, not too worried about the old bark that flakes off to the ground, and stomps as lightly as a tree possibly can. (He tries, anyway. It's the thought that counts.) He rumbles at Gamora and tries leaning into the camera's view. "Mmm. I am Groot," he says to no one in particular.

Yondu Udonta has posed:
"Eh, we all got that problem. Leas' Quill's got you," Yondu admits of Gamora offhandedly. It's not really a compliment, more an assessment.

What's on his mind?! That's an invitation to vent. And Yondu takes the invitation indeed, dumping his feet off the console and twisting to lean over the bench-table? Probably a bench-and lean into the camera some. As if she might not hear or see him well enough.

"I go /outa my way/ to bring y'all into a big score. Finally I talk to 'im, e's in, and I send 'im the specs, and then nothin'. This stuff doesn't just wait forever, an' neither do I. We're talkin' enough fuel to last for over eight big jumps --- or forever, if he gonna just sit in a dock 'an pick his ass--- and that was just YER cut--" Yondu snorts and slaps one palm flat on the bench in the foreground. He's done griping for now.

"Plus all the other secondary salvage..." Yondu pauses to take in Groot, and jerks his head in a return 'nod' to Groot's greeting. Yondu's wound himself down a little bit now. More calm. He leans back again, rubs his jaw with a few fingers. "Iffin this is a tactic to get a better cut, 'e should know it's already better'n I should do," Yondu admits.

Gamora has posed:
Gamora's continuing to brush out her hair until its smooth and perfectly alligned. She's got her eyes down while Groot makes his greeting into the camera from beside her which she doesn't seem to mind at all, but she does glance over at the Tree-man after he says those things he likes to say. She didn't expect Groot to answer the comm calls, she didn't hold Groot to the same kind of... expectations that she holds the others, Groot rarely ever got on her nerves in fact.

The hairbrush is set back down on the table in front of the monitor and Gamora's eyes go back to where Yondu's face is all leaned-in and talking about a job. "Quill is just busy with some other project. He says they're personal. It doesn't mean that we can't do what jobs come our way without him though. So if this really is about recovering fuel, in a way that won't get us on any Hot Lists, then just tell me what we need to do, where we need to do it, and when we need to do it by... And it'll get done. Everyone here wants profit, afterall. Some... more than others."

Gamora is a very straight-to-business kinda gal.

Groot has posed:
Groot listens to all of this and hums, a single low note rumbling somewhere inside his torso. He looks at Gamora and stands back upright, blinking a few times at Gamora as he looks around the space for any of the other Guardians puttering around the (admittedly small and easy to surveil) space in the Milano. No one's up yet, and there might be a job to do. He chuffs, and a few twigs on the top of his head twitch at the sudden pulse of air.

Surely someone else is around, the Flora thinks, and he realizes that it would be a very easy and effective wake-up call for him to pay a personal visit. The net effect with a call from Yondu, though, might not be politic. The tree grumbles and stomps off to the periphery, where he can still hear the goings-on, and where he can peruse the... paraphernalia littering the place. Geez, what a mess.

Yondu Udonta has posed:
Yondu is mollified by the willingness to discuss the job. "Naw, the risk is on us, and our fronter ship. It'll take any heat. Iffin you're worried, I got the ships anyhow. Lessee." Yondu thinks about it, picking up a scrap of meat from a plate off-camera, chewing at it with his uneven teeth. "I got .... the Lil' fighter 'Hexxor'; ain' got a good crew in 'er yet. She's one of the combat kits outa the Eclector. New. She needs her first battlescars on 'er." Eclector, of course, being the name of the big Ravager ship Yondu commands with the larger crew of questionable space pirates of similarly questionable intelligence but proven viciousness and effectiveness.

"Got three ringers. Easiest walk o' a job there is. Just want to hit hard, fast, and vanish wi' smart minds behind the teams. Well. Smart as I can get," Yondu chuckles. "I'll send th' spec package to you, then, if you can't pry it out of the boy."

Gamora has posed:
Gamora's eyes go from the terminal back toward Groot as she sees the Tree-man looking about, she assumes for the others, likely for Rocket. "He's at his place." She tells him, speaking of the affectionately named 'Rocket's Place' which is here on Knowhere. "The otahers are... who knows where." She says with a faint smirk before looking back to the terminal with Yondo chomping down on some meat strips.

"If you're looking for a crew to bang up a ship, then you've found the right one." Gam responds while sliding some of the items on the desk in front of her into the drawer so they're not loose and likely to fly all over the damn room should the Milano get into any action any time soon.

"Send me what you have. We may not be a bunch of hyper-intelligent beings here... But we have our moments." She glances back to Groot and she nods her head toward him. "He and I are at least competent." And she's showing a light smirk then.

Groot has posed:
Well, yes, Rocket did like his alone time. It wasn't that Groot could particularly blame him for it -- being cooped up wasn't the raccoon's happy place at all -- and even if Groot did, he also doubted there was much he could say about it. He could, however, say something about the not-so-light artillery currently parked in Gamora's salad bowl on a nearby table. He shook his head and lightly removed the weapon from the bowl and then placed the bowl carefully on the table next to Gamora. She would appreciate knowing where her item was, and at least this way, it wouldn't get contaminated with explosives. Not many species did well with those in their food.

Mulling the mission details, Groot looks over at Gamora and rumbles out a low chuckle. "I am Groot," he says with a shrug. Hitting hard and fast he could certainly see them doing, but vanishing has never been a strong point, depending on who's working the controls. "I am Groot." We're not leaving Rocket and Quill here, are we?

Yondu Udonta has posed:
"Ah can work wi' competency. /Done/," Yondu agrees, with a slap of hand on the surface of the bench in the foreground, and grins broadly at the camera. He's getting what he wanted, very clearly. But there's no reason why multiple people can't get exactly what they want: the smile isn't vicious. Mostly since he's alone in his quarters. If the pirates were all around him, the tone would be different. He's far more amiable in this style of situation: willing to bargain.

"/IF/--- ya answer m' call next time," Yondu adds, a bit more seriously, staring with his red eyes into the camera, and then relaxing with a quick laugh. "Kiddin'. I'll point it at YOU this time. That's the problem I reckon: th' Quill Factor, ha! I'll give ya a day to lookit the mats. Nice talkin t'yer and Groot; I like t'get t' the point," he adds, with a look into the background towards Groot. It's a clear farewell.

Gamora has posed:
Gamora hadn't yet noticed that her salad bowl had a bomb in it, so when it gets set down in front of her she just assumes that Groot was trying to be nice to her and she gave him a quiet "Thanks." in response. Not that Gamora has any problems with bombs, she's used them sparingly in her life as well! But, yeah, probably not in her kitchenware. "Rocket and Quill are surely desired for this outing, but I'll need your help to splash some water on their faces and get them riled up. Get their heads in the game." She tells the Plantlifeform.

With her violet eyes back onto the monitor screen now, Gamora nods her head once dipping her pointed green chin down. "Getting to the point is a lost art in this galaxy. So its certainly at least -one- thing you and I can agree on." And she reaches out then to deactivate the transmission. She didn't trust the blue skinned guy, not even a little, but... there aren't many she DOES trust.