InsaneJournal

Who: Guardians, Dr. Strange
What: The Guardians arrive and Dr. Strange welcomes Nebula.
When: Backdated! Set before Nebula's network post.

The Benatar landed near the hangar of the Avengers headquarters, north of New York City. It was where the ship had been kept before, to keep it from the prying eyes of the government or curious photographers trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on there. Not that it happened too much anymore. Most of the attention was on the new Avengers Tower in lower Manhattan.

Once the gangplank lowered down, a circle of sparks opened up and through it stepped a familiar sight: Dr. Strange.

With the spell net he cast over New York, he was able to detect that someone was 'newly arrived' in this universe, and it was his duty to meet them. So he was there, wearing his usual mystic garb, red cape swaying like water in slow motion as he levitated through the portal and lowered to the ground, waiting for the crew to depart.

It felt so good to be back on Terra. Like amazingly good. Like breathtakingly good.

Until he saw that pompous Dr. Strange.

“Fuuuuuck,” Peter said under his breath, lowering the door to get them out. He was counting on going to his place and relaxing but now? He’d have to like ..disinfect and shower before even leaving the compound, and Strange would absolutely look through his stuff like a crappy TSC agent. If he confiscated Morgan’s (and the twins’) gifts? Ooooh, there’d be a lot of angry posturing..and literally nothing else, because even Peter had to recognize when he was bested by someone.

It was a very reluctant give though.

“We’re back, baby!” Peter called out, strolling down, arms out wide with his bag dangling over a shoulder. “And we smell awful. Come hug.”

"I don't do hugs," Dr. Strange said, eyeing the bag. "That better not be contraband from outer space, including anything that might have potentially lethal consequences for baseline humans."

Drax exited the ship and knew that Quill's bag contained presents for children. Remembering how important his daughter was to him, he immediately remembered to cover for a member of his makeshift family.

"It is laundry," Drax said, "including underwear worn after encounters on Contraxia. The robotic women are lubed for the pleasure of many species, but go through rigorous decontamination. Any substances now consist of Quill's bodily fluids."

"......and there goes wanting to eat lunch," Strange intoned dryly. He knew from astral travel all about Contraxia. It was a hard pass on wanting to visit there physically. "You have someone on board this craft who now knows they're in a new universe. As soon as I talk to this individual, then I can open a portal to the Tower."

"Then you want Nebula," Drax said. "We are not tit."

Dr. Strange looked like he had the worst ice pick migraine in existence. "...what?"

There was no confusion from Drax. He sounded certain of what he was saying, "It's what Terrans say when they are not the one being sought after. We're not tit."

"Uh huh," the doctor grumbled under his breath, looking up the gangplank toward the inside of the ship. He wasn't about to correct someone - even as much as he wanted to - when the correction wasn't going to stick. "Any time now."

Nebula left the fox and the tree and strode for the exit. She didn't have a bag; anything she needed was already on her person. As she descended the ramp, hips swaying gently, she noted that Quill and Drax -- might as well use their names -- were speaking with the man she remembered as Doctor Strange. For one part of her, he was a background character to Thanos's escape. To another, he was the one who had surrendered a stone and then was erased from the universe like so many others.

"You," she said, unaware that word was often used by the villain in a B-movie when he realized the hero had arrived to foil his evil plans. It wasn't said with any venom, though. Nebula stopped at the bottom of the ramp, back straight, dark eyes on the man with the cape.

"You," she repeated, "made a deal with Thanos. Spare Stark and he could have the stone. That was you."

"That, actually, was another me," Dr. Strange replied. He didn't look perturbed, and that was likely from knowing several self-defense spells. Ruined hands or not, he was still a force to be reckoned with. Beyond that, he was also someone who bore the burden of doing a great many things here as well. Including welcoming those into an alternate universe, and assessing their threat level. Nebula's hatred of her father made her a good guy. And without her, the essential piece of the plan that would work, would have failed to wipe out Thanos. In another place and another time, at least.

"I arrived here before what you experienced happened with my other counterpart," the doctor informed her, as if that made sense. "Without you, Stark, Romanoff, and a rat in a storage facility in San Francisco? That plan would have failed. Like every other plan did."

"Do not forget why is Gamora," Drax chimed in, his own pack of incredibly stanky clothing slung over his back. He looked over at Quill. "I remember that."

"So helpful," Strange said, a little exasperated as he looked over at Quill with raised eyebrows. He was waiting to see if the peanut gallery had anything else to throw into the conversation.

"You missed us," Peter responded cheerfully, giving Strange a light punch to the shoulder. "Portal our stuff to the Tower, hey? That'd be great, you da man!"

A few finger clicks and gun motions only emphasized how happy Peter was to be home. Rocket and Groot would take the ship until he needed it. The comms system was upgraded and would absolutely play any and all messages. No missed calls this time.

"Quill out," he exclaimed, walking away and ignoring everyone else. Soon he'd have his phone and he'd be calling Tony. Good times, good times.

Nebula heard Drax and Quill, though neither of them seemed to be making sense. 'Why is Gamora?' What kind of question was that? Quill didn't seem comfortable around the Doctor and did this weird, rambling routine. She didn't look at either of her shipmates, but maintained eye contact with Strange.

She couldn't recall being vital to the battle with Thanos, but then her processors were still strained from the incident. It seems it wasn't her at all, but someone else, who was also her. OtherHer, OtherWhen.. She didn't have to like it, but she acknowledged it.

"How did this happen? Why did this happen?" Nebula tilted her head slightly and her eyes skimmed the caped man from top to bottom and back, assessing his threat level. He had fought Thanos and at least one version of him chose to die to ensure the eventual survival of everyone. This meant they were… allies?

Then she noticed something else. "Your cape moves without any wind. Why? Is it alive?" She was a keen observer, when she wasn't being consumed with blinding rage.

Drax followed Peter's lead, walking off as well. It would offer Nebula and Terra's shaman time to discuss things he didn't often think about.

"It's an enchanted relic, not a cape," Doctor Strange said, although he didn't elaborate on if it was living or not. He didn't need to, since a lower corner of the cape lifted up and made a little waving motion at everyone.

As one hand tried to bat at it, he continued to answer Nebula's question, "Reality split in two when I tried saving the world from an entity from the dark dimension known as Dormamu during an encroachment on Earth. I reversed time to save those who died, and looped time so I could trap him and die about a thousand times. It had unfortunate side effects."

Which was the understatement of...eternity.

Nebula followed what was said, glancing briefly at the corner of the cape that seemed to be waving, much to the apparent annoyance of the man. Without any expression, she lifted her hand to the cape in greeting, then refocused on Strange. It helped that they were of a similar height.

"That was a very clever strategy, as you obviously succeeded in defeating this entity," she stated. "If extremely repetitive. Did you feel the pain of each of your deaths? Do you remember them?"

Not that it really mattered, but it was interesting, given her history of personal 'deaths' and extensive pain. Perhaps there was some common ground.

"Yes. Every single time." It was a clinical response. Cut, dry, and blunt. Which, for anyone who knew Stephen, was pretty much what he was known for. He said only as much as needed to be said, and whatever was unsaid was that which he felt he was capable of dealing with. "There's a lot to do. I don't have the luxury of dwelling on it."

He tilted his head and squinted, as though trying to figure out a particularly plexing puzzle. Which he was, since he had looked forward to 14,000,605 futures. He knew all the variables and outcomes. Including that an alternate younger Nebula helped Thanos go back in time through the Quantum Realm, after capturing her older self from Morag.

"I'll have to keep an eye on you," he suddenly said, laying it all out. "I have to protect this reality. Since this is a branched off universe, it's difficult to tell which you is standing here, right now."

Nebula wasn't surprised that Strange remembered every one of his deaths, on at least some level. She remembered every time she lost a fight to Gamora and every piece of her Thanos chose to remove and replace with technology. It would be impossible to forget, though the details on a few of them were a bit murky, probably blessedly so. The pain, though, was always sharp.

As for not trusting her completely, he would be a fool if he did. She was a very skilled fighter and a trained assassin and most sane people would not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Caution was always a good choice, especially given her previous association with the Mad Titan.

"I understand," Nebula said in her husky voice, not flinching from the look Strange was giving her. "You are not a fool and I have a lifetime of following my father's orders." Something akin to a small smile flitted across her face and didn't completely leave as she added, "I am with the Guardians now, for good or ill, and if Thanos is still alive…" Her smile shifted a little as she anticipated a moment of great satisfaction. "I will be there to ensure he suffers repeatedly for all the pain he has given others."

Including me and Gamora.

Stephen didn't consider the older, wiser Nebula to be on par with Loki in terms of trouble. This woman had a single-minded focus to rid the universe of her adopted father, where the God of Mischief was less dependable. Even so, letting her know he had an eye on her might keep things in line while giving Nebula the benefit of the doubt.

"Time will tell," he told her. "I've been unable to trace Thanos' whereabouts. That leads me to believe he's either been turned to dust, or he's found a way to circumvent that and is taking this time to reassess how to get the stones from us. Having your help would be a valuable asset right now. Even if Gamora is missing."

She was another individual that he couldn't track. Every time she disappeared, any trace of the woman's aura went cold and disappeared immediately.

"Think of this universe as a divergence," he said, accepting the responsibility for creating it. Even if it was inadvertently done by another version of himself. "People like Gamora come and go, unpredictably, and some version of us always exists. However, only a rare few of us are aware that we are in this alternate universe. Don't lose hope that she'll return someday. She has, before."

The cape swished impatiently, ready to move, even if its owner was absolutely still.

"I can take you and your teammates to the Tower," he offered, "where Tony Stark has set up housing for new arrivals. If you have more questions, I can try to answer them right now. But know this. This anomaly is difficult to decipher or put parameters on, so there are more questions than there are answers. Even for me."

"If Thanos is alive, he will not be easy to find," she said quietly, almost to herself. "I will not rest until he is dead." If her father could be killed in one universe, then it made sense to her he could be killed in another one.

Holding very still at the mention of Gamora, she wasn't sure what to say. Seeing her sister again meant more than she thought it would, and not because she wanted to kill her. She wasn't going to let hope overwhelm her practical nature, though. If Gamora appeared, she appeared. If she didn't, she didn't and Nebula would carry on, regardless.

She inclined her head slightly. "I have no more questions right now and am ready to leave." With one last look at the fluttering fabric hanging from Strange's shoulders, her smile returned to something approximately friendly. Her unusual black eyes on his, Nebula leaned in to the Doctor and said, "And it is an enchanted relic that is also a cape." Satisfied, she turned to join Quill and Drax and wait for the next step in this journey.