13826/Guardians of the Yule-Tide

Guardians of the Yule-Tide
Date of Scene:	12 January 2023
Location:	Cockpit - Milano
Synopsis:	Christmas for the Guardians... a plan is hatched to bring in a new member. None other than Santa Claus himself.
Cast of Characters:	Gamora, Rocket, Peter Quill

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Gamora has posed:
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Gamora has posed:
So maybe it's not exactly Chrismas, but the Guardians have all come together aboard the Milano to celebrate this season! They just did it when everyone was free from whatever thing has kept them seprated because that's how family works.

Gamora is even here.

Wearing her exact same skin-tight outfit, but in red rather than black. She has an off-centered stocking hat with a bell on her head, liberally applying various candies to a very withered looking bit of tree that Groot grew from a splinter just for the occation.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Crisp Cash... everywhere we go." She hums, out of tune, as she adds yet another lopsided candy cane to only ONE SIDE of the tree. Just don't walk around the back, it'll be okay.

Rocket has posed:
Season? What season? The only information the surly little raccoon has ever gotten is a random mish-mash of stories of some fat guy in a red suit that nicks things. Sure, something Rocket could get behind, but..

Rocket is seated in a corner, working on the final bits and pieces of what might be somewhat recognized as an 'elf', if one was to use some imagination. With a tongue of concentration dangling out the side of his short snout, there's a sound of victory before Rocket sets the little robot 'elf' on the floor, and it begins to walk rather drunkenly in the direction of the tree. It's an 'elf on the shelf' that moves itself, though the grotesque facial features and the really awkward walk is something more of nightmares, and less of Christmas fantasy.

"Crisp cash..." is echoed, perhaps a little longingly. "Hey Quill," he begins soon after, "You ain't hanging up your smelly socks, right?"

Peter Quill has posed:
The Legendary Star-Lord is all about this Christmas time celebration. Mostly because it's a time of some fairly good music. There's also the whole giving and receiving of gifts thing. Most importantly, though, there's a big ol' chance to hang with his family... the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Right now, Peter Quill (a much more appropriate name for the moment than Star-Lord) is over near the wall where the Zunebox is located and he's in the middle of hanging up...

"No, Rocket, these are not smelly socks. They are called /stockings/." Peter stands to the side to reveal some hastily thrown together stockings that have been lasered against the beam each with the name of a Guardian Sharpie'd onto it. "This is where all the fun little stuff we got for each other goes. Since, y'know, the Big Guy handles the major stuff."

In that moment, Quill looks off towards one of the windows on the Milano, peering out as if the elusive Santa Claus were going to fly by in that moment. Childhood memories are high at this moment.

Gamora has posed:
"I take a great deal of umbridge from a fat white man sneaking onto our ship for any reason without him leaving missing parts." Gamora says under her breath, but plenty loud enough to be heard by the other members of the crew. She's promised to be good for the sake of Quill, since this is his thing, but there's lines!

Yet another candy cane is hung upon a branch, which begins to sag with all of the orniments she's placed in that specific area. Artistic in the way she's spreading out the adornments, she is not. Unlike Rocket who is assailing them with some monsterous recreation of the famous Elf upon a Shelf.

She glares at the awkwardly wobbling creature.

Then over at Peter hanging up stockings. "I got you a VHS tape of one of your favorite films. Drax, which is to say also me, got you a VHS player." She clearly doesn't understand how gifts work... or that there's suppose to be an element of surprise.

"They're in your room."

Or that she was suppose to put it in the stocking.

Rocket has posed:
At least the "elf" has a proximity sensor, and rather than falling into the tree, the thing turns and staggers towards Quill like a little drunken kung fu master. Rocket looks on briefly as it moves, looking pleased with his creation.

"Socks, stockings. Where'd ya get 'em?" Sliding off his seat and landing on his two back legs, his face scrunches up, whiskers quivering for a moment before he shakes his head. Nope, never worn. Or at least washed enough. For a moment, he pauses, beady black eyes staring first at Quill, then at Gamora.

"Gifts-- oooooh..." Did he forget? "I.. uh.. right. But, the big guy is coming, right?" Is there an idea fomenting in that little raccoon head of his?

Absolutely.

His furry ears flatten, and he looks briefly apologetic, "Yours guys presents are back in the hold. I mean, my room. Groot's room.."

Peter Quill has posed:
"Hey! Santa Claus is not fat! He just really enjoys cookies! Also milk. Whole milk. Sometimes chocolate." Quill is pointing a bit of a finger in Gamora's direction for that little bit in an effort to make sure that she knows this for next year. "... wait, did we get milk? We have to get milk." Now Peter's worried about the milk.

The Death Elf on the Shelf is freaking Peter out so he just kind of stares at it for a little while. He doesn't really have a comment about it but he's in the middle of preparing to look like he's going to kick it when Gamora starts spoiling...

"Wait! No! LALALALALALALALALALALALALA!"

Quill might as well be under attack or something from the way he's covering his ears to try and stop the sounds of his gifts being told to him. He's all about trying to preserve the surprise. "It's supposed to be a surprise!" Peter's got his eyes clenched closed just in case but also starts peeling his eyes open to see if it's safe to listen now.

Gamora has posed:
"He forgot." Gamora says matter of factly hearing Rocket back pedal trying to cover his bases, smirking dark lips as she hangs another cane from the sagging tree until it starts to lean off center in its base. "Whatever you got us, I'm sure it'll be great. If gently used. And something that looks suspiciously like something you already owned."

With Quill's sing songing, she grimaces visibly and holds her hands up, "Sorry! Uh... yeah, it's not a VHS... hah, I was just kidding... I'll be right back, no reason, keep doing what you're doing..." She slinks off, at least temporarily. "Don't go to your room..."

The other Guardians, wherever they might be aboard the ship, are doing equally jovial activities in this seasonal celebration. For instance, and for the sake of pure comedic necessity, Drax. Who is just standing there (and has been so the whole time). He's not eating zargnuts or anything, he's just got his arms crossed over his chest, staring at everyone as if he has absolutely no idea what's going on or why he's even here.

Until he speaks.

"Giving people gifts encourages weakness. If you want something you should just take it. If you have a gift for me, defend it with your life. That's the only way I will accept it... by glorious combat."

Mantis glances back over her shoulder at the Destroyer, who inclines his head, "Fight me for your stocking, our battle will be epic, and full of celebratory mirth. The true meaning of Christmas is violence. Like the green monster who stole all of the belongings from the puny big headed creatures in the valley." She quirks a brow, retorting in a quiet, almost mousy, tone with her antinna dipping slightly, "Nooo Drax, that's not how the story goes!."

"It does in my version: How the Gremp'ch Conquered Christmas because he was superior to the lesser beings that died before his might." after a pause, "Truly an epic tale."

Rocket has posed:
With Gamora's observation comes an agreement, an acknowledgment that she is indeed correct from the tree itself, "I am Groot."

"Did not," is the quick and defensive reply. "Besides, you don't know half of what I got. Maybe you'll like it." Ha. Though as Rocket turns towards the approaching 'elf', his ears sag/flatten sideways a little, and his voice drops, "You I'm gonna put up somewhere."

Yup.. he forgot.

"You and me, Drax," Rocket begins again, "We'll roll and steal that fat guy's stuff. Everyone'll get something good."

Peter Quill has posed:
Somehow Quill has managed to hear some of this since he's taken himself out of his cocoon of trying to stop himself from not listening or hearing anything about his presents. He ends up blinking and looking around immediately. "Hey, wait, no. No. Nobody's robbing Santa Claus! He's off-limits!"

Peter hangs up the last stocking to keep things nice and finished to be able to make sure there's a spot for even more gifts to be placed. "Guys, listen, gifts are rad and all but Christmas ain't about gifts really. So whether you got some or not, don't worry about it. We're all here, we're all together, that's all that matters."

Quill goes to plop himself down on one of the softer sitting areas for the moment. "By the way, I got all you guyses stuff weeks ago. It's been wrapped just as long." Peter kicks his feet up and plants his hands behind his head. "The early bird strikes again."

Gamora has posed:
Drax nods to Rocket, "If he refuses to give up his belongings, we will forcefully seperate them from him and then throw him out of the airlock." Even after Quill has said no one will rob Santa Claus! "If the large formed stalker is well trained enough to sneak into our ships security systems while we sleep, then he should be strong enough to survive the vaccuums of space." After another pause, he regards Quill fully.

"We are making him a better Santa Claus."

This is logic only a Drax could come up with.

After a short pause, Gamora returns carrying boxes with bits of magazine wrapped around them. She slides them under the tree, propping up the leaning plant with one of the pair of stacked gifts. "Drax, stop threatening Santa Claus. He only shows up if you're good and you haven't been."

"That is nonsense, nobody is as good as I am. At anything."

"No, good as in good, not bad."

"I understand the word, Gamora. I am without fault. The fat man will bring me presents or he will regret it."

"That's my point."

"Your point is wrong and mean spirited." He walks to the tree and grabs one of the gifts, "This is mine." Then walks towards the exit. It was not his.

Gamora drops down on the seat near Quill and kicks her boots up on the table, "... I'll get it back from him later." She murmurs to Peter, grinning. "So when do we get to open them?"

Rocket has posed:
"Nobody's offlimits if they step foot on board," Rocket returns quickly, sharp, pointy teeth bearing if only for a split second. He's got Drax on his side, even if the disapproving sound of Groot rises again, some of the ornaments shifting and shaking, "I am Groot."

"Buddy, it'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen? We get some stupid, old transistors in Quill's socks next year?" Heh.

Scooping up the 'elf', Rocket nods his head, leveling those dark eyes on Quill for a long moment, "Right. We're together and that's all that matters. That's the biggest.."

"I am Groot.."

"Right buddy. You said it," Rocket finishes up and moves to set the 'elf' onto Groot's branches. "Here ya go."

Once 'delivered', Rocket turns around and watches as Drax grabs a present and absconds with it. "That, right there," a hand rises and waves in the departing Drax' back, "is how it's done."

Peter Quill has posed:
Peter's watching all of these antics from his entire crew and it's quite amusing. In fact, he looks as happy as he can right now. This is truly a Guardians Christmas Event that's going on right now. His relaxation gets even more relaxed when Gamora sits next to him. "Thank god Christmas is only once a year." is his quip to all this fun foolishness that's going on.

Gamora's question has Quill looking in her direction. "Well. If we're still decorating and what not, I think we may need to count today as the day before Christmas Eve. Which means Christmas Eve'll be tomorrow." Peter's doing some math or something on his fingers cuz he's trying to keep all of this straight in his head. "Which means... two days! In two days, early in the morning, we can open up everything! It's always in the morning. So we can have all day to play with our stuff."

Gamora has posed:
Gamora watches Rocket and Drax plot the downfall of Santa, Groot comment on the spirit of Christmas, and Mantis... eat a bug when she thinks nobody is watching. Huddled over it grinning with those weird black eyes, whispering sweet things to it before she bites it in half.

Then over to Peter with a grin, "I don't know if there's enough happiness in the galaxy to do this more than once a year. You're right." She clearly meant patience, but that's neither here nor there. A mug of, what Peter called, Egg nog sits nearby and she reaches out to drink some.

"Seriously though, if a fat man in a red suit sneaks into the ship, Drax and Rocket are probably going to hurt him..." This part she adds under her breath, just for Peter. "We should probably warn him."

Because as far as she knows, Santa Claus is real.

Rocket has posed:
Rocket settles down next to the Christmas Groot, having acquired a mug of something that is more than vaguely alcoholic; necessary for those times when the humans, or rather, Quill gets all, "Uh oh, here he goes, gettin' all sorts of sentimental. Yeah, good thing it's only once a year."

The mug is lifted, and there's a little bit of a slosh, and as it comes down once more, Rocket is nodding at the timing even as his pink tongue is moving across his snout to clean his whiskers. "Right. So jolly old fat guy will be here in two days." Clearing his throat, he calls out, "Get that, Drax?! Two days!"

There... they're ready for him.

Two days will give him enough time to find something for everyone, too. The pressure!

"Tell me, Quill. This guy for real?"

Peter Quill has posed:
"Santa Claus is awesome and... MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE!" That last bit is said loud enough so that Drax can hear it. Just in case there are still plans to try and attack the Jolliest of All Times.

Quill relaxes again with a bit of a smirk on his face. He knows good and well that's not going to keep Rocket or Drax away but it'll have to be something. Or will make them stand guard so he can make some different Christmas Magic happen. He may be planning a few extra things. Who knows.

"We'll be fine. Santa's basically just like us. He might as well be a Guardian." Peter's eyes light up with that thought as he looks around to his gathered brethren. "Hey. Maybe that's what we can do." Uh oh. Another Quill Bad Idea is starting to form. "Nobody ever gets anything for /Santa/ on Christmas. So what if we tracked him down and made him part of the team?!"

This can't end well.

Gamora has posed:
From further below deck, "In two days time, we will see how powerful he is when he lays beneath my boot in defeat! I will become the new Santa Claus!" Shouts Drax in response to Rocket and Peter both.

"Yes, we will be victorious." Mantis parrots Drax from her corner, stroking a dead bug with the tip of a long finger. She's very weird.

Gamora groans and sips egg nog, peering between Rocket and Quill. "Remember when we were on Dilanta Twelve and they had that story about a large sloth that came out once a century to eat one village and we thought it was just some ecological disaster? Then it turned out there was a huge sloth and we had to help the people of the village survive, while still continuing the cycle of destruction so the ecosystem didn't collapse because the sloth was the stabilizing force that kept the gravitational axis aliegned?" She asks matter of factly of Rocket.

"Of course he's real. Why else would we need so many cookies and milk?"

Then Peter unhatches his greatest scheme yet. A true Guardians of Christmas Tale!

"... I don't hate the idea." Says Gamora,

"Drax will not like that at all.. let's do it." Says Mantis.

Rocket has posed:
Oddly enough, it's the call to arms of Drax that gains a sloshed raise of Rocket's mug before taking another swallow of the stuff, wiping the foam from his snout with the back of his arm. Being a raccoon, however, he wipes it quickly before looking up again to make sure no one truly noticed. "Two days."

Then? The sloth...

"I remember the sloth," Rocket begins slowly, the memory pulled unwillingly. "The thing couldn't get out of its own way. It's why it was only once a century. It's surprising that they actually make it out of the trees to get there. 25 years back a couple of klicks, sleep, 25 klicks to wipe out the place. I think we had to have sped up the destruction, though. Only took a couple of days instead of the month." Must have screwed up the planet anyway. Oh well.

Rocket turns dark eyes back to Quill, and he shakes his head slowly. "He doesn't get my bunk, and he rides in the back with Drax." There. "Other than that, he only gets part of a percentage of the take." Important things to consider! "Aaaaaand," Rocket begins to lose a little steam, and he exhales, "we get a take of the cookies and milk."

Peter Quill has posed:
Quill is as excited about this as he's been about the entire Christmas idea in the first place. Just the thought of hunting down Santa Claus is enough to have him excited beyond belief. "Oh this might be the one, guys. Our greatest adventure yet." He's already dreaming about seeing things he's never gotten a chance to see. Like the North Pole.

When the sloth is brought up, Quill gives a dismissive wave of his hand. "Santa's so much cooler than that sloth was."

Peter hops up to his feet with a renewed sense of vigor. "I say we get a head start!" He's on his way to the cockpit. "Grab your coats! Comb your fur! North Pole, here we come!"

Oh Boy.