4749/Hey Hey, Good Lookin'.

Hey Hey, Good Lookin'.
Date of Scene:	26 June 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Rocket Raccoon, Groot, Gamora, Adam Warlock

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Rocket Raccoon has posed:
Things have been too quiet lately. Quill has again gone all Walk-About and has been noplace around the Milano for a few weeks, now. The Asgardians are showing up on Earth's front step asking for a place to stay.. what's the galaxy coming too?

In the Milano things are coming to a boiling point.

Old Earth music is playing through Quill's bashed together onboard sound system. Older music than the stuff even he likes.

Hank Williams (not that no talent bearded kid of his, the REAL Hank) croons his warbly, yodelly voice through the ship as Rocket stands in the Milano's galley area.

"'Ay 'Ay - good lookin'.... whatcha got crookin'? How's'bout crookin' sumthin' up wit' meeeee..."

Once again Rocket mangles the lyrics to a song as he scurries back and forth from an open flame propane burner with a huge pot balanced precariously atop it to the 'fridge to get more ingredients. Whatever he's got really doesn't look edible but he merrily sets about dicing it up on an old hacked up butcher block cutting board.

As he.... cooks(?) he wears a smudged up apron that proclaims: KISS THE COOK! under a big red heart on the front.

Groot has posed:
The smell in the air is slightly sour, not unlike the time Quill claimed to treat everyone to "sweet and sour chicken" and overdid the acidic portion of the sauce. Groot sniffs, but satisfied that nothing is burning yet, pokes his head into the kitchen. He watches Rocket's glee at the cutting board and lets out a low rumble before taking a seat at the "kitchen table" the Guardians have ginned up in the galley space.

Comfy seat. Large seat.

Seat far away from the burner.

Groot snakes a limb out to the small cooler of plant fluids he keeps stocked nearby and pulls out a bottle of light pink fluid. Eyeing Rocket and estimating the duration of this liquid appetizer, he cracks open the lid and sticks in a few absorptive twigs to enjoy a drink. Happy hour, indeed.

Gamora has posed:
Gamora had been in the cockpit for the past hour or so, and now she was stepping out of it with a datapad-device in her hands that is connected to the ship's systems. She's been running diagnostics on the power flow regulators and is chasing down irregulations in said regulators.

Once she enters the galley she can smell the food cooking, and glances up toward Rocket and then over to Groot. "What are you preparing?" Gamora asks the singing Raccoon as she walks across the galley toward a bulkhead where her tablet computer is set aside and she starts to remove one of the panels on the bulkhead to expose the inner workings behind said panel. The music, she'd been able to hear already up in the cockpit and it was pretty normal inside this ship for SOME kind of music to always be playing.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
Rocket continues to dice away, humming along with the steel guitar that figures prominently in so many Hank Williams songs, his tail swaying along. He glances up, "Groooooot, buddy!" He offers a toothy grin to the awesome sight of the sentient tree taking it easy himself.

Scuttling over to the large pot, now wildly boiling away, Rocket glances toward Gamora next. "Hey, Killer... this? Oh...." he pauses to scrape the diced up bits into the pot, not minding the several splatters his energetic actions create. "... figured it was time someone on this tub put the galley to proper use, yah?" He take a huge heat mitt and stuffs his spindly paw into it and grabs a long metal stirring spoon to begin mixing up the contents of the pot as he sniffs the aroma.

Looking back to Groot, Rocket asks curiously, "That smell too acidic? Or is that too sweet? Quill's gym socks keep messin' with my nose, 'm tellin' ya.."

Groot has posed:
Groot blinks and stares at the pot and Rocket askance. "I am Groot?" he asks with some surprised concern, hoping that Rocket hasn't divulged a secret ingredient. He points to the pot and lifts his hand palm-up in query. "I am Groot," he notes. Yes, it's acidic, but that's clearly not all it is. Just what's in there?

He turns his head to watch Gamora pull the panel and looks on curiously. He reaches above his head to turn the generally securely attached track light in her direction for easier viewing. He hums, though not in any key musically related to Hank Williams' current performance.

Gamora has posed:
Generally speaking Gamora made food for herself while everyone... kind of did the same, which is what lead the galley to usually being a mess of many different types of food preparation left in disarray throughout the room.

With the panel off of the wlal, Gamora is using a scanning tool to fire a blue and red laser beam into the interior of the ship's systems, the beam is feeding her information on the devices little readout.

"Whatever it is, please tell me its edible." She responds, hearing Groot's summation of it. "For me as well." She says whilst doing her repair / maintenance work. "And do not speak of Quill's socks prior to... or after... the meal is served please."

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
Rocket continues to ... cook (?) at the galley in the Milano. He wipes one paw off on the Kiss The Cook! apron he wears (but no chef's hat to be seen) as Groot weighs in on the pH balance of the contents of the large soup pot of boiling... something something something.

He glances to Gamora, "Edible? Well. Sure. What'dya take me for? I ain't no *****in' Filly-Stine like Quill. I swear. If he makes another of those Mackin' Sheez things again I'm gonna space 'im.... *****in' earths slop gave me th' runs fer three days. THREE. DAYS."

Groot has posed:
Groot makes a small, sick noise from somewhere down in the depths of his bark. "I am Groot," he manages. Yes, we remember. No, we don't need that again. Please leave the orange stuff out of the pot. He finishes off his "drink" and tosses the now voided container into the recycling hopper... at least, he thinks it's the recycling hopper. He reaches into the cooler and picks up another container, this time one with water (or at least what he appraises as water when he holds it up to the light and peers), and begins consuming.

Gamora's remote diagnostic is still interesting to watch, and far less anxiety-inducing than a raccoon with possible future gastrointestinal distress. He cocks his head and rumbles, trying for a glance at the data pad.

Gamora has posed:
"Uh huh......." Gamora says while she works on the ship's interior power transfer wiring, in a way that makes it sound like she's not really processing what Rocket is blathering about. She reaches her hand up and programs the device to re-allign the wires and the little lasers shooting out at them are actually cleaning them AND repairing them, regrowing the wires and making them 'brand new' again...Groot will see all of this on the tablet computer's display too in real time as the power is starting to flow back up to 100% capacity.

"I like the cheesey noodles." Gamora says then, proving she HAD heard the Raccoon. "Especially when the tiny finger weiners are cooked into it." She doesn't really know how to describe hot dogs.

"I don't want to hear about anyone's bathroom problems. For at least one day..." Gams quietly sighs while deactivating the repair beams.

Adam Warlock has posed:
Apparently, as Rocket appears to be cooking and Groot and Gamora appear to be conversing with him as repair beams are deactivated and data pads are examined, The Golden Wizard, Adam Warlock, appears to have finally gotten out of his bunk to go and well...socialize with others. Dressed in his black and red wizard robes with his Karmic Staff in hand, those red eyes fall upon Gamora, Rocket, and Groot and gives them all the warmest smile.

"Hello my friends. How are you all?" Of course, he also apparently doesn't question why on earth Rocket is 'cooking' nor does he question why gastrointestinal problems are being probably too confidently stated.

"I can see we've had an interesting conversation so far, no?" he approaches his fellow Guardians.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
Rocket glances up at Adam's greeting, "'ey, Adam." He studies the man for a moment, "How do you have such /great/ hair even when you just got outta *****in' bed? I've got this stubborn cowlick at the base of my tail, just /never/ ****in' cooperates with me, 'm tellin' ya.."

Stirring the pot again, Rocket grabs a bottle of something. Is it... glowing? It is, indeed, glowing a soft blue hue. The liquid oozes out into the pot then splutters as every bottle does when more air than contents is pushed out. The resulting sound is not unlike certain other bodily functions.

Tossing the now almost empty bottle into the same bin Groot nixed his empty into just moments before, Rocket looks to Gamora, "What ARE you doin', anyway, Killer? It looks like yer meltin' Quill's ship. Should I be tellin' him about this?"

Groot has posed:
Groot looks on in satisfaction as the readout gradually pronounces the Milano's systems whole... or, more accurately, more whole than they were before Gamora set to work. Thankfully she'd found the issue and started the repairs quickly, or they'd have a situation worse than that time a few Orloni had taken a nosh from the navigation computer's core wiring. He grunts, throwing an offhand nod to Adam.

The bottle with the soft glowing residue gets his attention, and he pokes at it curiously on the top of the bin. Setting his features, he pulls a tiny sample on a stretched out twig, and then he lifts it to his mouth for a sample. "I am Groot," he says in some surprise. It's decorator icing, he says. Definitely not sauce. You sure you wanted to add that?

Gamora has posed:
Unfortunately for Gamora she doesn't notice Rocket slipping anything into the propsective meal, so if she does indulge in Rocket-cuisine, she won't really know what she's injesting... But knowing her, she may run some scans on it before she does injest it... She's just that kind of thorough.

Gamora's eyes glance over to see that of Warlock once he strides in in his fancy robes. "Hello there, War." She responds to him. "Welcome to the land of the living... for now." Her glance then goes toward Rocket and his meal, perhaps implying something there.

The repair tool is put away on her belt on her right thigh, then she puts the panel back over the exposed bulkhead section. "I'm keeping us from dying of a lack of oxygen." She tells Rocket as the panel is snapped back into place.

Adam Warlock has posed:
Adam smiles very softly to Rocket as he once again seems to compliment the eternal perfection that is his golden locks. "My thanks. Though...I'm not quite sure what you mean. It has always appeared this way. Maybe it is not the same for others...I wonder if that's why there's this thing called..'hair product'?" He asks with the most sincere curiosity. Literally. He doesn't know what sarcasm means. He really does not.

Regardless, his eyes eventually fall upon Groot with a smile. "Hello Groot." He smiles warmly to the tree life form. Finally, his eyes find Gamora. "Lady Gamora. Thank you so kindly for your welcoming." he stretches very softly. "Though I imagine your words are in relation to Rocket's cooking as per the life and death?" he chuckles very softly.

"Do you require aid in your noble task, Gamora?" he asks her curiously.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
Rocket snorts at Gamora, "...shyeah... tell that to Quill's laundry hamper..." He shudders and pulls the spoon out. Or it was a spoon. Now, it is simply a dissolving stump of what it formerly was. That might have been decorator's icing he added in but that isn't any cake he's concocting.

Glancing at Adam, the sentient raccoon snickers to himself. No. Warlock don't get it. That's why it's so much fun to pick on him. At least Rocket isn't being a total jerk, right? "Hair Product!" Rocket utters and scampers past Adam and Gamora, likely coming close to knocking them over as he races out of the galley area. The sounds of a thorough trashing of someone's living space is heard. Coming from Quill's bunk area. And then the patter of feet as Rocket races back.

He unscrews the lid on some dubious tin of 'hair product' and swipes a big paw-ful before preparing to toss it into the pot as well.

Groot has posed:
Groot's insides gurgle. "I am *Groot*," he says firmly. Now, you know better. Not only is it generally not edible, it smells worse than Quill's gym socks. What are you trying to do, anyway? He picks up the icing bottle and lobs it at the back of Rocket's head.

Gamora has posed:
"Never have, never will." Gam says about needing any help... its just a personal mantra of hers, after all. She's a fiercely independent woman! But yeah, even she will probably need help with something someday. Probably.

Gamora is almost knocked out of the way by Rocket rushing back to the kitchen, her eyes track after him and she stares at what he's doing. "I'lll make myself something to eat..." She quietly mutters then while exhaling and offering Groot the datapad with the ship readouts on it. "There's more of those panels that need work, if anyone else wants to do them, I won't stop you."

The green skinned woman approaches the fridge unit mounted to the wall near the cabinets and she reaches inside the shelves of cold drinks to pull a silver bottle out, its filled with a berried alcohol beverage... her favorite.

Adam Warlock has posed:
Adam watches as Rocket rushes off like a raccoon possessed to ransack Quill's room to return with some hair product. 99.9999 percent sure that's.....not very healthy for most biological life forms to eat. "I believe I may ask permission to eat only some of whatever you would make. besides, I have never had your cooking." he gives her a warm smile before investigating Rocket's work.

"Is it supposed to be breathing?" Adam teases Rocket with good intentions because....there's a great many things that should not mix in that dish. with that in mind, he leans away from poor rocket when Groot is throwing things!

Well, at least it is exciting.

Rocket Raccoon has posed:
Rocket is nailed by the bottle Groot recovered from the trash and pitched his way. he hunches instinctively as the large glop of hair.. goo... splatters into the pot and causes the contents to begin to foam and froth.

"OW! What the blarbnackin' ***** was that *****in' **** about! *****!" he glares at Groot then looks to Gamora, "Eat? you asked if it /was/ edible. Yeah. Yeah. It IS edible. but it ISN'T for eattin' yah lunatic!"

He stares dumbfoundedly at Gamora, "you're the galaxy's third most dangerous woman or whatever y'are an' you don't know homebrewed gelatinized explosives by sight let alone -smell-?" He looks at her as if she were, oh... say... an alien or something.

Groot has posed:
"I am Groot," the tree says as he rests his head into his roughly shaped hand. You seriously mean you've been ransacking the galley for... flashbangs? Really? He shrugs and sighs, taking the datapad Gamora proffered and rising to his feet. Great brew for sipping, but that'll be all for the night.

He nods at Gamora's choice of beverage and waves the datapad. "Let me go take a look at these..." he says as he makes his way down into the hold.

Gamora has posed:
Once Rocket spills the proverbial beans on what he's actually making, she rolls her eyes then. "Of course." She says, popping the cap off of the silver bottle and tossing it into the little waste bin that sucks the cap downinto the disposal. She steps up to a cabinet, opens it up and pulls out a silvery packaged pre-made sandwich ration (space food!) and then just takes her drink and meal... and starts toward her hammock in the corner of the crew space.

"Please don't blow the ship up." Gamora warns on her way past Rocket.