4383/We were meant to get provisions

We were meant to get provisions
Date of Scene:	12 December 2020
Location:	Lower Deck - Milano
Synopsis:	Nebula stole a Safeway truck full of food. Provisions restocked. The truck has been dumped in to the bay off of Titan's island. Peter wants to go get sourbread from the city.
Cast of Characters:	Nebula, Peter Quill, Drax

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Nebula has posed:
The sound of a big rig truck coming to a hissing stop outside the Titans Tower is not at all subtle. The truck is a long one, with large branding on the side saying SAFEWAY. It's a refrigerated truck and driving it, a hooded figure. There's a passenger next to her too, asleep with his head on the dash board.

Correctly, Nebula has stolen the truck and the original driver is in the passengers seat unconscious. She opens the door to the cabin and hops down out of the drivers seat with a clunk on to the ground. <I have acquired food goods to last us a longer journey, a transport vessel filled with supplies. Come help me load it on to the Milano> she says over the comms, no pleasantries should be expected.

Wearing a long cloak, she pulls back the hood to expose her alien nature to the world once more. She has been trying to keep a low profile. They all left to get food for their ship. She didn't feel like shopping with Drax and Rocket, so she went her own way to figure out how this port of call worked. Much like most space stations and little planets, this one had a supply chain. A weak and easily exploitable one.

Peter Quill has posed:
Peter Quill is nearby, hands upon his hips with something of a scowl upon his face. He has to work through several things. She /stole/ this, clearly. But he is a pirate, ain't he? Thats fine. He can't be anti-stealing things from Earth just because thats where he is from. Hands grip his hips tighter and he glances back down the length of the truck before back to Nebula and her kethunking to the ground. "I didn't know you knew how to drive stick."

Drax has posed:
Drax has been rather big about getting out into the city to explore.  He went to a bake sale in the park.  He got someone on the subway to give him money just by looking at him.  He went back to the bake sale to buy some pies under the assumption that these were some strange cousin of pizza pies.

"Have you had this pizza?!"  And yet Drax has already had pepperoni and cheese.  This time he has berries all over his face and fingers as he digs into the pie tin in his other hand.  "It is delicious.  I will be there as soon as this is in my stomach."  Which doesn't take long.  The next time they see him, Drax has cleaned himself up.

Drax grins at the big truck as he approaches, slapping the side like it's a great beast, emitting a brief laugh.  "I hope you got /good/ food."  Drax then just rips the side away at the seems like it's a sardine can.  He grabs a crate and hops down.

Nebula has posed:
"Don't insult my intelligence Terran. I read the manual of this primitive mobility vessel. It was simpler than a childs toy," she says with a sneer, then heads back around to the back of the truck and pulls open the big doors to the refrigerated area.

Like the opening of the vault in the best Christmas movie from Earth - Diehard, revealed before them are frosty cool boxes upon boxes of meats, vegetables, liquids, and Earth delicacies. Nebula feels a small tinge of pride at this haul. The Earth authorities are still none the wiser. Perhaps once the man wakes back up, or they realise their shipment never arrived.

She climbs inside and starts moving boxes to the entrance for more expedient transference to the Milano. The thought of what to do with the truck has crossed her mind. Dump it in the ocean perhaps. Get those 'Titans' to deal with it. Perhaps that Flurken-person who makes holes.

"I got food. Whether it's good or not... it's Terra," she says to Drax and leaves it at that. He seems to like the greasy sugar food of Earth, but then again the styles of food and tastes of the culture will have shifted since Peter was here too.

Peter Quill has posed:
"Hey, I'm just saying. Gotta clutch in, clutch out in neutral then back in to shift. Requires some dexterity." "I have had this pizza." Peter will respond to a question that probably wasn't directed at him, but to Nebula. "They're gonna want this back in decent..cond..it..ion." He was not fast enough to stop Drax from tearing the siding from the truck even as Nebula opens the doors at the back of the trailer at the same time. "Someone is probably missing this truck." Nonetheless, he is quite willing to come to the end where Nebula is pulling boxers to the edge so he can start reading labels. Not actually lifting and carrying anything yet.

Drax has posed:
Drax just continues to pull stuff from his side entrance.  It'd be a waste not to use it now.  "We will taste it and see.  We do not need what is bad."  But clearly Drax understands the need to get the stock into the Milano first, in an efficient manner.  He starts targeting the heavier boxes.

"It is most delicious.  That pie.  Yes?"  Drax calls out to Quill with a lift of his chin as he strides back to the gashed truck.

Nebula has posed:
"Stop gawking at the loot Ape descendant and load the Milano," she says with a snap. The large chunk ripped off by Drax is stared at for a few more seconds than it deserves, but she figures dumping in the ocean is the right way to go now. "Just because we're on Terra does not mean they do not have law enforcement. We should proceed swiftly," she says reminding him of the obvious and how most space station stops end.

She hops down from the back of the truck and carries four boxes in to the Milano and places them in the corner of the hold. She pauses a moment as pain shoots up and down her left side. Her scowl intensifies and she pushes on, pushing the pain down to get the job done.

"Gamora and the fuzzball should be here helping. Where is groot," she complains as she returns to move more boxes on to the ship. "At least Drax knows how to .. destroy a job," she says pandering to him to secure his compliance.

Peter Quill has posed:
Drax is easily bought off on just the fact that he gets to taste test all of the well frozen food that the pair are pulling from the truck. "And just what are you going to do with the truck after we've emptied it? The authorities /will/ be looking for it. I doubt we'll be getting much help from our fine hosts." Namely the Titans. "Don't you mean 'Who is Groot'?" A question so easily answeres as 'I am Groot'. A big box of frozen shredded cheese gets hooked at its corner, then another and another before Peter will stack them and take all of them with him. Towards the Milano and walking after Drax.

Drax has posed:
Most space station stops end with...another rotisserie machine?  No, just one from those adventures, and it still doesn't have power Rocket!  Who keeps toying with Drax about why he can't do it.

Drax has always taken the initiative to help out around the ship.  Nebula doesn't really need to lift a finger this time.  He's used to paying his way through labor and skills.  "I do not know."  At Peter's retort concerning Groot, Drax looks to him, "Did your father drop you as a youngling?"

Drax starts to load what's been gathered so far into the hold.

Nebula has posed:
"I shall deposit the unconscious Terran at the door of the Titans and drive the vessel in to the sea where it shall sink and be forgotten. If the authorities arrive, we will deny them entry to our hold and fly away with haste," she says carrying four more boxes in to the ship.

"But let me be clear. I will not start a war on this planet, because if I do I will win it and that will draw exactly the kind of attention my sister does not want," she adds as she heads back to the truck to get more things. The problem is eventually that kind of attention gets back to dear old dad and who gets the punishment? sure as heck not Gamora.

"It is a simple and efficient plan. No dancing is required," she gives Quill a look of doubt and says, "Nothing will go wrong." More boxes are fetched and she has to admit, she's gotten used to the way Drax rips at the insecurities of everyone he comes in contact with. It's great entertainment - except when he does it to her.

Peter Quill has posed:
"My dad wasn't on hand to drop or throw me or anything, Muscles." "If there is no dancing involved, its not really that good of a plan, is it?" One of the group is going to have to portion out the cargo hold and set temperatures there so the food doesn't defrost. Rocket is off doing rocket-rodent things. Once his set of boxes is plopped down into a corner he is tap-tapping a wall-mounted display panel for just the sort of cargo-hold programming he had been thinking of. "That /does/ remind me. We need to go dancing here. You're lucky Disco died off." Peter mimes a finger-gun right at Nebula. PEW!

Drax has posed:
"The ship is still broken," Drax reports casually to Nebula as he passes her with a stack of boxes.

Drax has posed:
"This explains you."  Drax frowns at Quill as he's bending down to grab some boxes at the edge of the hold.  How many times has he had to explain to this human that he is Drax.  Not muscles.

"I do not dance," Drax says definitively.  "This also explains you."  It deserves a nod.  Drax is certainly only stacking boxes with same boxes that he can tell.

Nebula has posed:
"You may have brainwashed Gamora somehow with your music and irrelevant dance moves, but you will not fill my mind with that nonsense too," she says with a pointed glare and moves more boxes in to the ship. "I know the ship is broken. We need the ship fixed soon so we can get off this stinky damp rock. It's too close to the sun and filled with too many Terrans. They actually think they understand the universe. I talked to one just to see how arrogant it could be."

She looks to Drax with all seriousness, "Very." With a slight wince in her face from pain she turns to get more boxes. "This planet owes us for rescuing their Titans, so if they claim we stole the goods then we will present them with a bill."

Peter Quill has posed:
"/Irrelevant/?!" That....that is too far. Peter ponders flash-freezing Nebula right here, right now, in this cargo hold. Which wouldn't matter, the damn robot-girl would probably survive it. "Its gonna be one of us fixing the ship. /After/ making parts because its sure as all get-out that nobody here is going to be able to make the parts we need." At least nobody is flinging blame about how the ship got damaged. "My ship, by the way. Mine."

Drax has posed:
"Gamora would never never dance," Drax scoffs incredulously, as if it were beneath her.  He hops down to the ground from the hold and continues to help Nebula unload the boxes.  "The others are helping Rocket.  Maybe it will make the repairs faster."

"Quill.  Many words come from your mouth, but you keep doing nothing."  Drax pauses at the ramp to look to Nebula.  "His dancing isn't irrelevant.  It is keeping him from having sexual intercourse," which seems to be very important.  "It will be okay Quill."

Nebula has posed:
Ahhh... there it is. The good good Drax stuff. It's like a drug that eases her pain momentarily. It will be such a shame if she has to kill him. She pauses though and says, "May be next time don't let Rocket crash in to a ship and a building, if you want to remain captain." Both unavoidable collisions really, considering the difficulty and the skill of Rocket. Really, she just wants to lay on the salt.

She hauls back and forth with more boxes, "They better not slack. We needed supplies. I have acquired the supplies. We need a working ship, they had better fix the ship." It's a simple enough equation. She's going to be disappointed no matter what happens so she might as well get it out there now and share the pain around.

There is the niggling problem that despite the technology of this world being very low, even their greatest weapons merely split atoms, they have people who fly without a space suit in space and shoot lasers from their bodies without a weapon. There's apparently a whole tower of such people right next to them. Conquering this world without fathers fleet would be difficult - so flying away is preferable, they seem to lack proper spaceships thankfully.

Peter Quill has posed:
"Dancing. Dancing is the path to sexual intercourse, Drax. And you'd do well to remember it. *AND* I do just fine. Just a bit of 'How YOU doin' and I tend to be on my way to their bed." Peter might not be so ready to jump-planet just yet! There is at least /one/ more stop he has to make, somewhere way out from San Francisco. So. You know. At least a few more days. "I'm sure Rocket isn't getting distracted at all, pretending the zoo is a brothel. Not him." An interior door slides almost shut and latches into place and the cargo hold that was portioned off begins to refridgerate now. At least that is still working. "I was /busy/. Or I would've been flying." Probably crashing into buildings too. But thats neither here nor there. "The city apparently has good sourdough." A passing comment after Peter passes Nebula to head back to get more boxes.

Drax has posed:
"I got the meat machine.  Rocket still hasn't given it power," as if informing Nebula of the service around here.  He stops, still holding his stack of boxes, shaking his head at Quill.  "Hopeless.  What is howdewyewdewenge?"

"I took him off the ship once," but the little guy has been rather reclusive.  "And how could sour dough be good?  Humans eat such strange things?"

Nebula has posed:
Nebula picks up the ripped off side of the truck and tosses it in to the trees not too far away. There's not many boxes left now that the three of them are working together. She grabs the last two boxes and takes them to the Milano and then says, "Now I'll dispose of the vessel."

She returns to the passenger seat and takes out the guy. He has a broom moustache and a balding head. She carries him over to the front door of the Titan's tower and lays him down almost gently like. Then back to the vehicle and without too much fuss, accelerates to the edge of the island. At the last moment, she dives out of the vehicle and rolls to a stop as the truck itself plunges engine first in to the bay. It crashes against the water with a loud splash and then slowly begins to sink.

"Problem solved," she states and returns to Quill and Drax. "If Rocket wants actual help fixing the ship I'll be in my bunk. But only because I'm sick of this planet and its plethora of Quills," she says right ot Quill's face. The anger is real, the reason is nothing to do with the words or even really to do with Quill. Life didn't give Nebula lemons, it took her lemons and dissected them and inserted cybernetics until she was the second best assassin in the universe.

"This city is apparently one of the better ones in the city and it is an annoying mess of mind control, capitalism, and Terrans. Why you'd want to go in there just to taste another kind of food is unthinkable."

Peter Quill has posed:
It is not time to explain 'Friends' to Drax. Peter think its just a quaint show that probably never went anywhere. "Its bread, that tastes a bit sour. You should try it. I'll bring back some." Peter returns enough to get the cargo hold sealed and the frozen section set up just right. Then to catch the spectacle of the drowning of the big rig. "Its not so different from any other planet out there. Just no spaceships yet. Give'em another decade or two." He won't respond to more grumpiness from Nebula. If she wasn't grumpy, then he'd worry.

Drax has posed:
Drax helps Quill get the rest of the boxes into positions according to Quill's design, so he misses the fun driving-the-truck-into-the-bay-thing.  "I am their guest.  This is a Kylosian custom.  I will see what brings them true joy."  Drax says simply.

"I was also hungry."  Drax looks up from the boxes, lifting.  "No.  I will go with you.  There are crazy humans out there and you are delicate.  They outnumber you."

As for Nebula.  He won't argue with there being a ton of Quills and too many.  There are so many of them they are spilling out onto the sidewalks and oozing from under the overpasses.  They lurk the alleys and pick through the trash, which for some reason has lots of wasted food in it.