Owner	Pose
Yondu Udonta	Yondu's meetings with Quill are often loud. There's usually a great projection of voices even if it isn't exactly shouting. There's a little bit of shouting, though, silence, then laughed threats. It's the usual. Then from Quill's quarters comes the big, older Ravager. He pauses just outside of the doorway of the crew bunks, self-satisfied smile playing over his lips, while he digs around in one of his upper pockets to fish out a toothpick. He chews it, smile turning more crude, thoughts registering as a wry narrowed amusement in red eyes.
Mantis	Mantis is seated cross-legged on the floor at a low metal table. On the table is a partially-assembled jigsaw puzzle. Pieces are scattered everywhere, as Mantis has been painstakingly putting pieces together. Also on the table: the top of the box for pictorial reference, a pair of scissors, and a rubber mallet. Mantis pauses with a puzzle piece held pensively, and looks up at Yondu with wide, blinking eyes, and her gaze lingers beyond the point of awkwardness.
Yondu Udonta	A tiny noise from the puzzle draws the blue alien's attention, and his gaze slides sideways to where she's situated low on the floor. Yondu invites himself over, stride casual, and bends to pick up the lid of the puzzle she's working on to see what the image is. "Mantid, righ'?" Yondu asks. And waggles the lid: "Used t' make Pete do these to sharpen 'is mind. 'E 'ated em. Punishment after that," Yondu smirks around the toothpick.
Mantis	"Oooh," responds the dark-eyed girl. "Mantis...and I think that is where this one came from." The image on the box is an old wooden wagon, the type that would have been drawn by horses, if it were employed. The wagon is filled with sunflowers, and an old metal milk can sits on the ground in front of one of the spoked metal wheels, also filled with sunflowers. "He showed me how to put them together, but I found an easier way, because the pieces aren't always cut right, and they don't always fit where they're supposed to..."
Yondu Udonta	"Nah tha's like cheatin'; only one yer hurt is yerself doing it that way, it trains in not bein' imp'atient," Yondu says, dropping both hands to sleekly flare his trenchcoat out from his thighs as he drops into a squat across from her. The coat fwumps dramatically about his thick booted heels. He reaches out and stirs some of the pieces, with a slight narrowing of gaze again.     "If it don't fit, it's wrong. You change it, an' later you come on the piece that DID go there, and then it's all eff'd. Not that I'm 'gainst cheatin', but also not a fan o' all those pieces that were suppose' to be there buggin me later," Yondu smirks.
Mantis	Mantis tilts her head, her black-eyed gaze settling on Yondu as he speaks. Her antennae twitch with what appears to be a modicum of understanding, and she nods slowly. "You're saying that the pieces that don't fit later are a result of the pieces that didn't fit now?" Her antennae flit again, ever-so-slightly. Perhaps a sign of the intellectual cogs clicking into place with the corresponding gears. "But they all fit equally fine as long as I have the right tools." Then again, maybe not.
Yondu Udonta	Yondu grins broadly, picking at the side of craggy teeth with the pick. "So far dey do. Later ya'll have sommat that's too tiny at th' end, cause you cut some big one down, woncha. Don' matter to me none though, girl. Go for et. Learn from yer mistakes," Yondu suggests with an amused tone. He flips the lid back towards her table neatly with a sniff and brief pass of heel of hand against his nose and jaw.
Mantis	If Yondu is ok with it, and gives her the go-ahead, well...Mantis realizes she really -should- reconsider. "Want to help me?" Mantis, the tips of her antennae glowing faintly, knows without a doubt that he, in fact, does NOT want to help. But sometimes people lie and do for others the things that they really do no want to do. The juxtaposition fascinates her, and she just has to ask sometimes to see if they will.
Yondu Udonta	"Eh, ain' here to bail you out o' your mess," Yondu chuckles, but leans forward and picks up a few pieces, promptly putting them exactly where they go in the puzzle anyway. Yondu does a lot of backwards signals: saying one thing, doing another. Acting one way, feeling another. The Ravager is a weird read for many people. On purpose.
Mantis	Mantis' face brightens. "Those fit without having to trim or pound them at ALL!" She beams with genuine admiration, and imitates his actions to a precise degree, picking up a piece and plopping it into place. Then pushing it harder. Then pounding it with a mallet to make it fit the way his pieces did.
Yondu Udonta	Yondu releases a low little whistle and laugh as she bears the mallet. Most people (err, his crew, and some of this crew) would get extremely nervous when Yondu does anything remotely involving lip pursing. But it isn't a directive at his weapon, more part of his laugh. "Feels better w'out the mallet," Yondu snickers. "True o' most things. But not ALL," Yondu snickers, suspecting the joke will just be private. He brushes a hand over some of the other pieces, finding another, but doesn't bother leaning all the way over the puzzle, he flicks it at her. "Corner, bottom, I bet." He's sure, but pretends it's a maybe. Let her have one.
Mantis	Mantis takes the piece and places it in the corner, seemingly with trepidation. With a familiar cardboardy snap, the piece falls into place perfectly. "It worked!!" Mantis hops up and wraps her arms around Yondu's waist with a tight hug. "Thaaaank you. You're my faaavorite."
Yondu Udonta	"Whoa, hey there. Personal bubble," Yondu says, tense and watchful but not aggressive. He gauges people, and has marked her as weird but not an issue. "Donchu be grabbin' me in front o' nobody else, girl," Yondu says, clearing his throat and easing her off. This, of course, is followed with a macho roll of shoulder.
Mantis	"Ooh right. We wouldn't want anyone to think there was something going on between us." Mantis waggle her brows, but her vacant expression indicates she has exactly zero idea what precisely it is that she is insinuating.
Yondu Udonta	Yondu gives her a stare, and then bursts out laughing, slapping a somewhat harsh hand on her back. He coughs, pulling the toothpick off where it adhered to his lip, and slips it away. "Yeh, les' go with dat," Yondu snickers. "They be jealous o' you gettin' close t' me. Don' want you in danger," Yondu jokes, climbing to his feet, amused. "All them pieces fit like dat when you give 'em a chance," he says, of the puzzle. "Too bad life ain' always like dat, eh?"
Mantis	When Yondu bursts out in laughter, so does Mantis, matching his pitch and intensity. Anyone within earshot would think it was an uproariously good time. It's highly likely that Mantis is only laughing because Yondu is. It is also highly likely that she will go right back to making pieces fit. She nods in response to Yondu, however, with a soft smile. "But that is why they make these glorious inventions," she says, holding up the rubber mallet.
Yondu Udonta	When she laughs, Yondu laughs longer and louder, a deep belly laugh. Half because she's laughing so much. He enjoys the whole of it, there's an honesty to the laughter. He sets his hands loose, hooking thumbs into his belt, relaxing out of the laugh. "Yeh right. Hey, so long as yer havin' fun, works I 'spose. I wanna be here when Pete sees what you've demolished o' it wit' dat hammer tho. 'E might cry tears o' nostalgia," Yondu says, in a sort of wistful way, as if seeing the human captain cry were one of his fondest aspirations. "But not now, eh. I got ships ter lead. Later, Mantis." He did take in and correctly recall her name; she doesn't have a nickname out of him yet. Yondu turns away, starting to stride out.
Mantis	Mantis smiles brightly and waves, as Yondu departs. "Goodbye Yondu! Thank you for your help! I will treasure it, ALWAYS!"