3624/Goo Ard Ians of the Gal Acksy

Goo Ard Ians of the Gal Acksy
Date of Scene:	29 September 2020
Location:	Common Area - Milano
Synopsis:	Peter, Gamora and Drax all chip in to design their symbol.
Cast of Characters:	Peter Quill, Gamora, Drax

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Peter Quill has posed:
    "That's what he called us, that's what they all called us, it sounds cool. It sounds bad ass." Peter says, as he sits down at the common table just below and behind the cockpit ladder/stairs. His tongue goes back out and the Captain sits with a large red marker in his hand and a sheet of paper on the table with his right arm curled around the top and front, protecting his answer sheet from any prying eyes. "So I'm going to go with it, and make a sweet logo with like, awesome AC/DC lightning bolts n' stuff." Peter says before he leans back and does a bit of air guitar with a really bad sound effect from his mouth.

    "NO PEAKING!" He snarls and curls back over the paper with his whole upper half as he keeps doodling with his left hand.

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora just stands there with her arms crossed, green-booted heel clicking on the floor as she squints at Quill dubiously. Branding is... not a matter she had ever expected to discuss in her lifetime. "I'm not Guarding the Galaxy." She insists plainly. "I only have the two swords."

Drax has posed:
"Who says this?" Drax demands, but softens quickly with curiosity. "I did not know you are crafting lightning bolts now." Drax leans against a bulkhead furthest from the cockpit, his arms folded across his chest. "We are better than lightning bolts. Except you Quill." He pushes off the bulkhead to sit at the table.

Peter Quill has posed:
    "That dude, ... the big one with the pew pew... it was... nevermind." Peter says with a wave of his hand towards Drax before he goes back to working on his drawing and then squints his eyes fiercely at Drax. "Lightnin bolts are cool. You and Yon---Yon...."

    Quickly turning to Gamora and changing the subject back to what she said. "It's not like, Guarding guarding, it's like, guarding, guarding. You know, like, a simile. It's ... " Peter trails off and goes back to working on his desgin, flipping it over to start fresh on the back, sans lightning bolts.

Gamora has posed:
    "He's not crafting lightning bolts," Gamora explains to Drax with a terse kind of patience, inclining her body more towards him and doing a 'downplaying' sort of gesture with her hand, "-it's this AC/DC creature." She finishes with absolute confidence, before the air-guitar prompts a vaguely disturbed look from Gamora, whose eyes wander awkwardly afterward until Peter's explanation.
    "... Lying?" Gamora offers as a conclusion to Peter's trailing sentence.

Drax has posed:
"It is okay.  I understand.  You are pathetic."  Drax nods knowingly as if this were some kind of condition.  The lightning bolts and 'Yon' get a discerning look with a slight tilt of his head before it fades from his present.  "Hmm."

"So we are lying about the guarding.  This will help us go places."  Drax looks to Gamora instead of Quill.  Whose ship is it?

Peter Quill has posed:
    "No, AC/DC is a band. Ugh. Thunderstruck, or For Those About to Rock. No... uuurgh." Peter moans as he looks to Drax and Gamora, and back and forth at least twice more. "Fine, no lightning." He says, continuing with the sleek Star Trek kind of look for their name. Which he quickly realizes is simply too long and too hard to do itallicized and in the wrong direction. It's hard! Don't judge.

    Peter scoffs, "No, it's not lying, it's a title. Like, we protect the galaxy from super disasters and maybe make some bucks while charging to go to birthday parties and city park ribbon cutting ceremonies. I've always wanted to hold those big scissors." Peter looses his train of thought until he looks back at Gamora with those sort of sad puppy eyes he can get.

    "No, it's not lying, it's called self promotion. We have to sound important to get the bigger jobs, and the bigger jobs get us what Drax?"

Gamora has posed:
    "Promotion." Gamora repeats the word slowly, as if it was in a foreign language, visibly turning it over in her head. "... I see. I understand."
    Gamora turns and takes a step back so her profile is to both men, regarding them both. Though she looks to Drax as she explains, "In the history of warfare, there have been many forces with a name all their own. They would acquire a reputation for victory and brutality so overwhelming that many people - sometimes entire planets - would surrender rather than face them just from hearing their name; even if it meant certain death and slavery for their people."
    Gamora folds her arms under her chest and nods her head once certainly, "It's the same principle. Only they will beg for our expertise, instead of our mercy."

Drax has posed:
"Then this is a title of great honor.  I shall seek out these people and thank them," presumably anyone who has started this thing.  "Eww.  If it is given to us, it is not this form of lying," Drax syas definitively.  Apparently this is better.

"Our symbol must place fear in our enemies.  Enemies will run from us.  This is like our war symbols on my home planet."  Drax rests his elbows and hands on the table.

Peter Quill has posed:
    "Um... yeah." Peter says, shaking his head and then looking down at his third attempt at a design and then frowning and crumpling it up and tossing it over his shoulder no where near the waste unit. Not to mention the several other crumpled up pieces of paper on the floor over there. Peter spots them and then looks back to Drax and Gamora with that tone, "Those aren't all mine. Some are Rockets." Peter says, as if that makes it okay.

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora nods to Drax, before her yellow eyes follow the path of the crumbled piece of paper, then squint, her nose wrinkling with disdain as she says "You're making a mess." scoldingly.
    She does not move to clean it up.
    When Rocket is blamed, she ammends. "You are contributing to a mess." and steps forward, putting her hands on the table and bending over to look at Quill's latest design in progress. "If we're meant to be... 'protectors'... the banner should symbolize that. Or at least..." Gamora shrugs, "... allude to it."

Drax has posed:
Drax looks over at the wad of paper on the floor but doesn't move a muscle.  Someone else should pick it up as far as he's concerned, like Quill.

"Which one is yours and which one is the pet's?"  Drax leeeans over into Quill's bubble and peers, his focus stolen from the challenge of helping come up with a symbol.

Peter Quill has posed:
    "The um..." Peter pauses to look to Drax who's awfully close. "All of this is mine." Peter says as he covers his art with his hands, he's not ready to show off just yet. "Wait, a banner, no, I want like a cool thing that's fast and could be like a tattoo that says, 'Guardians of the Galaxy' y'know, something cool." Peter says, looking back and forth but then lowering his head back down to start to continue the new sign, with a big huge sword and a gun, and a tail, and ... knives?

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora arches one eyebrow at the work in progress. "It's a little bit..." She searches her lexicon.
    Full?
    Over the top?
    Messy?
    Childish?
    Confusing?
    "... Busy." she says plainly. "Something like a shield might suggest Guardianship more than..." Gamora tilts her head at one of the designs, "A yacht made of guns?"

Drax has posed:
"I see.  I will show mercy and not tell you how weak they are."  Drax leans back in his seat and sighs.  However, he does keep watching with passing interest as his attention mainly shifts to Gamora.

"Yes.  It should be a shield.  Guardians are warriors that guard things," Drax says in his usual deadpan, leaning against a hand while he idly trails his fingers across the table's surface.  Thoughts.  "Or a sun so bright it consumes everything in its path."

Peter Quill has posed:
    Peter listens to the ideas and quietly crumples another piece of paper before tossing it over his shoulder as well. "A shield." Peter says as he starts trying to draw the first shield that comes to mind. A big circle. He's from Earth, Captain America was famous even in his day as a great hero. He can't help it. "Wait..." He crosses that one out and starts the traditional tricorner shield, and then adds a fire in the middle. "YEAH!" He whoops and scribles 'Gaudrians' across the top of the shield.

    "Whatcha think?"

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora regards this symbol for several long moments of pregnant silence before she stands up straight and folds her arms. "... I like it. The word 'Guardian' written in your foreign language gives it an air of exotic elegance."

Drax has posed:
Thankfully Drax does not realize the shield is /on/ fire in a sense.  "It is almost good.  It needs something to do with space," he offers...in the way he does.  He looks over to Gamora and nods.  "Yes.  Like words in ancient text."

"How will we bear this emblem?"  After all, if people can tell who they are, kiss all those side benefits goodbye.

Peter Quill has posed:
    "We'll have giant words moving through space to announce our arrival." It's a Star Wars joke, but then Quill looks around at the two and frowns, realizing they wouldn't get it. "We could get it painted on the Milano... Maybe get patches on our shir- clothes..." Peter looks from Drax to Gamora and lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. That was close. Yeah. Smooth.

    "I didn't write it in an foreign language, ... I wrote it..." He pauses and actually looks at what he wrote. "Gaudrians..." He slaps his forehead and takes a moment to say it aloud slowly and write it as he does so before scratching out the one above the shield and adding, 'Guardians'. "Better. Yeah?"

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora looks dubious. "Such a projection system would cost millions." she says with zero sense of the joke. "Nevermind making it portable to use from the ship. Perhaps a holographic decal ON the ship, that can be turned off when it suits us? That would be... how much would that be?"
    The near mention of shirts makes the... scantly clad alien woman tilt her head quizically.
    "What is a Gwad-ryan-" she starts to ask, and then puts one hand to her forehead. "You misspelled- okay. Triple check anything before you submit it for printing. Quadruple check." Gamora's shoulders slump slightly. "Maybe we should write it in Galactic Common."

Drax has posed:
"Earth language is a primitive language, but beautiful," Drax says with a dip of his head.  Drax starts to zone out as Quill starts to talk about floating Earth words in space.  His eyelids begin to droop a little.

At some point during the constructive criticism, the Kylosian's head dips slightly and he softly jerks awake.  He holds the edge of the table to lean back and YAAAAAAAAAAWN at the ceiling like some mighty lion's war cry for sleep.

Peter Quill has posed:
    "Okay Drax, go to sleep, jeeze, don't need to make fun of me about it." Peter says, rolling his eyes so that Gamora could be in on the humor and ... "Fine, galactic common, and of course we'll triple-quadruple check it." Peter says, taking the paper that's covered in scribles and marked out ideas and takes a magnet off the table and hands it up on the 'fridge' with a smile as he stands back, hands on his hips and admires his work from, a step back. "Yeah. Guardians of the Galaxy."

Gamora has posed:
    Gamora gives Drax a long nonplussed stare as he cries his fatigue to the heavens, then glances at Peter as he rolls his eyes. "... Hm." She gives the barest hint of a closed-mouthed chuckle and a shake of her shoulders before she looks away sharply. She watches the design go onto the fridge and nods her head once, affirming "Guardians of the Galaxy."

Drax has posed:
The yawn is all over in a snap as Drax returns to his position as if nothing had happened.  "I was tired," Drax explains obtusely.  He twists to follow Quill with his gaze as the emblem is pinned to the cold box.  "We shall get an artist to make it better." He nods to himself.  "Then I shall try to get this tattoo."

After a silence, a stony contemplation, he presses his lips together.  "Yes.  We are."

"Now I must take a massive shit."  The table groans under the strain of Drax pushing up to his feet.

Let the adventure begin.