Owner	Pose
Angela Odinsdottir	There's only so many times you can polish a weapon before it verges into overkill, and Angela has veered well past that point by now -- but without a hunt or, in general, something to physically engage in (violently), the woman falls into restlessness easily. Which, perhaps, explains why she's currently sitting in the cockpit of the Milano, Billy Idol's 'White Wedding' blaring loudly over the speakers as she sprawls on the pilot's seat and stares at what looks to be one of Gamora's guns, frowning inquisitively. It's just one of many, including something that looks like Rocket's (a giant red box with dangerously glowing lights and a button that says 'DO NOT EVER TOUCH' on it), all strewn about the area, as if Angela's been methodically picking apart everything she could find in the Milano to try to make sense of it. "So... is this where it fires from, then...?" she wonders aloud as she turns the barrel of the gun towards her face, squinting into its depths curiously. It's probably a bad idea. She doesn't seem particularly concerned though.
Viridian	"It's a nice day for a... white wedding. It's a- nice day to... start agaaaaaaain! Come on!" There's Viri's voice. the girl is, however, nowhere to be seen just yet. A close inspection of the room would show a flying... Fan? The fan has a speaker wired to it and hums as it zips through the air and into the cockpit, zooming merrily with Viridian's voice transmitting through it. The thing wobbles in the air as it orients on Angela and pushes closer. "Eeep!" Viridian calls suddenly. "Th-that end can, um, remove your head. You shouldn't stare into it like that..." She squeaks abit in that high, sweet tone she seems to favour in general. "Hi!"The girl chirps then, rather cheerfully. "So, um. I wanted to talk about some stuff..."
Angela Odinsdottir	She hears that voice, and Angela's head tilts up from where she's staring down the barrel of a gun with utter ambivalence for the prospect. Keen white eyes search out the source of that familiar singing joining in with Billy Idol, only to find a... fan? A fan. A flying fan. Her lips purse in a slow, deliberate gesture. She listens to the fretting, and her lips just purse all the more. "It can't, and you are a fan," she says in that firm, absolutist tone of hers, as if both were just stating the obvious. She waves that gun about with a reckless disregard for general safety but, thankfully, whatever horrors are loaded into the barrel don't go off, and eventually (thankfully) she just sets it aside to squint at the floating robot. "You have Viridian's voice. Then you're one of her automatons." 'Robot' hasn't quite stuck for her yet, it seems. "Some kind of transmission system?" She considers and then, as if finding this acceptable enough, nods once. "We can talk. But if necessary, I'll track you down." She really doesn't mean for that to sound threatening, but her word usage and tone could probably use a little work. Just a little. "What are we discussing?"
Viridian	"Us! You, me, Indigo," Viridian replies through that fan of hers. It zooms abot, whirring as it draws wide circles in the air in front of Angela. "But most of all I would like very much to ask yu if you would go on a date ith me," the girl's disembodied voice concludes through the tiny but well-amplified microphone. "I want to make you dinner. I know how to make all kinds of interesting things. "What do you think? I'm already in the galley getting ready to cook! So let me know." Now the machine comes to a halt in front of Angela, oriented directly on her once more. Bzzzzzzzz. "I really love Indigo, and I want all of us to be together so no one feels left out or... Lonely. If I, um, understood you right and you are okay with that idea."
Angela Odinsdottir	A date, Viridian says, and Angela's deep red brows lift in response. "'Date'?" she echoes, testing the word with a stoic sense of wonder. Other than that, though? She's silent, even as Viridian explains her reasoning; all there is, is the faint furrowing of the wingless angel's brows in something approaching inscrutable thought as the machine floats in front of her. She reaches out, with that same impassive expression, and pokes the thing testingly. Silence reigns after those last uttered words from Viri behind those speakers, in a way that might cause doubt or awkwardness to linger in the air. But then, "Very well," Angela decides, voice full of an absolute certainty as she pushes onto her feet. She looks at all the weapons strewn about, the cassette still playing. Decides she'll handle it later. "I'll come find you and we will have this date, Viridian. Stay there." And with that, she abandons the cockpit in the messy state she left it in (Quinn's probably left it worse) and makes her way towards the galley, booted heels clinking against metal flooring as she goes.
Viridian	As Angela leaves a little disc-shaped robot comes whuttering past, cleanign as it goes. It does not take long to find Viridian, who is currently in the galley as promised. She has food otu and a knife, an apro ntied about her wais. athe girl is, as usual, in the exoskeletal frame she wears and her legs, as usual, do not move when she gets about. It's a little awkward but she's fairly fast. As long as Viridian doesn't try to dance everything should be welll. Violet tresses brush against Viri's shoulders, framing her movements and her face as she works a knife through some vegetables that are out on the cutting board. It's not really a board as such but you cut in the surfaces you have. "Oh! Hi, Angela," Viridian calls. She turns briefly to flash the angel a positively incandescent smile. "What kind of things do you like to eat?" she asks. "Go on, um. Have a seat." The violet-haired woman fidgets a little bit. Nerves, probably. In a corner Max watches impassively. The perfect chaperone.
Angela Odinsdottir	Galley doors hissing open, Angela steps inside with a curious if reserved sort of air about her -- she is never not on alert, but the red-head at least looks a little more relaxed than she normally would be. Those keen eyes take Viridian in, and that exoskeleton, noting again how those legs seem not to move, a small, thoughtful frown creasing at her lips. When Viri calls out to her, Angela looks up. That brilliant smile is met with the nod of Angela's head; she doesn't quite smile back, but her expression certainly is far from unfriendly, either. "Hello, Viridian," she greets simply, at first. She watches the woman for a moment longer before she blinks once, as if she was lost in thought. "Eat -- ah, right. There's nothing in this world I know of that existed back in my home." Her brows furrow inward faintly. "Meat, and vegetables." Not very specific, but then -- it's probably the best she can do right now. At the request to sit, she looks down, moves to a chair... and then hesitates briefly. "If you need assistance, I can provide some as my payment. Otherwise we can simply say I owe you a debt, if that's your preference." It might be a confusing thing to say, but at least she says it sincerely, daring a brief, very small quirk of her lips almost like a smile. "I... look forward to seeing what you're preparing."
Viridian	"A debt?" Viridian sounds confused. She quickly shakes her head as she starts to combine ingredients in the pan in front of her. "Meat and vegetables, then. I bet I can figure out something," the young woman assures with a soft laugh. She is quite nimble in the kithcen, the knife moving with alactriy. At least until her left hand jerks. With a yelp Viri watches as her and starts to shake and the knife spasmodically bounces against thec utting board. It grazes off of her knuckle and thankfully does no damage. She takes a deep breath and starts to chop. More slowly this time. "You don't owe me a debt," Viridian explains gently in a soothing, quiet voice. It comes easily to her. "The three of us are something special. You're special to me. We're- a family, I guess. I'll cook for you just because you're hungry. That's how it works." Viridian seems to take some pleasure in that ide and bobs cheerfully as she works. There are no more incidents. "There is no debt. Or, we could say that being together is debt paid. I just want to see your face when you taste how awesome this is going to be!" Viri flashes Angela a grin and Max chitters along with her, apparently concurring with the sentiment. Then she laughs delightedly and sets to work on pound the meat with a pan. Smash. Well. It works.
Angela Odinsdottir	The huntress looks about to say something in response to that confusion, but when Viridian yelps, her attention is stolen away; before she can sit down, those white eyes of hers jerk in Viridian's direction, eyebrows lifting lifting as she makes her way towards the woman. She doesn't ask anything -- she'll just move to quietly take Viridian by the forearms to pause her work so that she may inspect the Xandarian's hands, a frown of concentration pursing her lips. No injuries that she can see -- but her hands still hold, to quietly steady Viridian's arms as she chops until she's sure the other woman is steady enough to let be. "Nothing for nothing," she finally says as she turns away. "All debts must be accounted for. It's the way things must be." Presumably she means 'the way of her people'; but she doesn't add anything further after that, making her way back to the table to settle into one of the seats comfortably, her gaze flitting briefly towards the chittering Max with the knotting of her brows. "Your automaton is very talkative," is her first observation; given her earlier words, she doesn't look inclined to accept the idea of no debts. When Viridian continues on though, Angela considers for a long, pensive moment. "... I suppose that can work," she ultimately arbitrates, with a look that, at least, seems accepting of the idea. She still can't help but amend: "This time," though, because she's stubborn as a mule.
Viridian	"Okay. For now," Viridian agrees mildly. "If you really want to pay me later we can work out arrangements anyway. I'm sure we could have a lot of fun together if we try." With a soft laugh the girl returns to bobbing cheerfully while food goes into pots. She is apparently making a succutash to go with breaded, flattened meat of some variety, gravy... There are seveeral pans going right now. The food takes a bit of time, though being quite colorful it is actually a surprisingly pretty thing to wach. The vegetables are in purples and blues and greens- and the mash over which the gravy is poured is a natural pink. The meat, at least, is brown in the crust. That's only to be expected. Angela is presented with the first plate and Viri watches her pensively as she move sto her own seat to gather up her silverware. The girl lifts and moves the chair. Apparently she doesn't really intend to sit. "Let me know what you think," Viridian murmurs breathlessly.
Angela Odinsdottir	A moment of silence passes where Angela watches Viridian, quietly. Her arms fold across her stomach, one long leg crossing over the other. "We could," she agrees easily, with all the confidence in the world. "We'll discuss it, then." She seems satisfied with this, at least -- if the small smile that lingers on her lips for a few precious seconds is any indication. For now, though, Angela is content to just watch Viridian cook with a hunter's patience, enjoying the sights and smells of the woman's cooking in motion. When that food finally comes, Angela looks at it with all due curiosity of someone who frankly looks like they haven't seen such food before... and all things considered? Angela probably hasn't. She doesn't wait to try it, carving into a piece of that breaded meat, tearing it free and chewing thoughtfully. What does she think? "It's delicious," she says, without a second's hesitation, in that painfully sincere and blunt way of hers -- now, at least, used for something complimentary. She takes another bite, swallowing as she watches Viri. "It's different than what we had in Heven, and the meals Indigo has cooked for me... but that's to its favor. I enjoy it." Her stare considerate as the other woman pulls that chair aside, her right brow ticks upward a centimeter. There are probably delicate ways to ask the question. Diplomatic ways. "What is wrong with your legs, Viridian?" But Angela's never been good with either of those.
Viridian	"Oh, that. I was very sick when I was little. I'm- tetraparesic, it's called. I have muscle weakness throughout my body. My arms mostly work okay but my legs can't really support a human's weight. Usually I don't move them at all, it's pretty painful." The response is given earnestly and with no indication she minds the question whatsoever. Fork and knife in hand Viri goes about carivng up her food. "I'm glad you like it," the girl continues as she is moving to take her first bite. "That's what I was going for." Smiling now, she eats very carefully, still standing while she does so. those lbue eyes are htoughtful as they cast around the room. Her hair is shifting towardp ink again in its briefly rainbow coloured way. "What did you really think when you found out I'd been seeing Indigo for months, and that we were- together?" Thegirl asks in a similarly blunt way while hardly looking up.
Angela Odinsdottir	"I see," is Angela's murmured words to Viridian's condition. No condolences offered, no apologies -- she just isn't the type. She does, however, seem to truly think over what the girl has told her even as she eats, her expression pensive as fiery red hair tumbles across her face. "You're truly strong, Viridian," is what she ultimately decides on before she returns to her meal, as simple as that, but no less heartfelt for it. As Viridian's hair color shifts, Angela looks up to watch the process; the huntress tilts her head in some mild and restrained form of fascination for it, as if trying to suss out the process for herself. Ultimately, she just turns her attention back towards the Xandarian when that question is so directly asked, hardly looking offended. More... considerate. "It was a surprise, but not unexpected," she answers, leaning back in her seat, hands folding comfortably in her lap. "We talked about these things, before." There is a pause, lingering for a moment before she adds, "I've no claim to her. Indigo can do whatever she likes. She's earned that. If she trusts you, I shall, too. Do not abuse it."
Viridian	"I wouldn't dream of it," Viridian replies simply. She continues to eat after that, working her way through most of her food in fairly short order and ultimately finding herself collectign dishes so that she can convey them to the sink. "Claim or not. I wouldn't get betwen you two. That's the opposite of what I want anyway. You're beautiful. And sweet... You dress way differently than I sued to but I don't mind looking at that either so..." A soft laugh and a flushed Viridian soon continues now that the dishes are put away. A robot disc- pink where the first was brown- moves to the sink to start washing the dishes. "May I... kiss you, Angela?" Viridian asks, licking her lips lightly as she does.
Angela Odinsdottir	Sweet, says Viridian, and Angela just scoffs at that in particular, shaking her head. There's amusement of a wry sort that works its way into her expression, even if she doesn't quite laugh. She says nothing, even to all Viridian's flushing words about her clothes, as the girl starts to work on those dishes. She watches for a moment, and then... she stands, slowly. She's quiet. Quiet and fast enough that Viridian might not even notice where the redheaded angel is until one of those strong arms are wrapping around her midsection, until the other is taking hold of Viridian's chin to tilt her head back and up. Until Angela is kissing her, in a slow but lingering, confident way, as if she had all the time in the world to enjoy it as much as she did that cooking. No words, even when she parts her mouth from Viri's, even when she squeezes her waist. She just smiles.
Viridian	The frame makes wrapping an arm around Viri awkward, though it is still possible. the girl watches with wide eyes as Angel approaches her and swallows, hard. She reaches down and there's he soft hiss of pressure releasing as the locks on her harness release. When the kiss comes Viridian leans into it, returning it fiercely. She is in the angel's strong arms, trusing the taller woman to support he slight weight as she is no longer within the safety of her frame. Slender arms wrap around Angel's neck and Viri closes her eyes as they kiss, holding it for long seconds. She is more than happy to let Angela take the lead in this, kissing her for long moments. When it parts Viri has no words either. She just smiles back.