Who: Peter Quill, Nebula, Drax What: microwaves and DYI Status: Complete!
Drax liked to think he was the master of many things. Battle. Invisibility. Cheetos.
Right now, he was in the commons area of the 38th floor of the Tower, mastering the microwave. Many food foes had been placed within, and been defeated due to explosion. Soft puffy sweet pillows known as marshmallows. Hot dogs. A pudding cup. And now that the insides of the machine were coated with defeated foodstuffs, he was putting an open can of SpaghettiOs into the machine.
"This is convenient," Drax mused out loud, thinking that food that came in it's own portable containers was one of the great things about Terran culture.
"What the fuck, Drax?!" Peter rushed into the room and slapped the blue alien's hand from pressing any buttons. With a rude shove, he pulled the disgustingly sticky can and made a face before tossing it in the garbage next to him.
"Never put metal in a microwave! God! It's like what happens if you put Warrats into water - boom! And there is JUST as much mess." Speaking of which… "And what the hell happened to the inside of this thing?!" A blob of fluff was slowly dripping down the inside into a hot dog pile and it made Peter want to puke to think of the two together. And he really hoped the brown stuff was pudding.
"This isn't our stuff, you idiot! Respect the equipment! Fuck!"
Nebula paused in the threshold to the common area. She had decided to visit the comfy chairs and the bowl of apples and look at the view. It wasn’t much different from the view in her quarters, but at least the room would be different. One could only stare at the computer for so long, Solitaire, even at the ‘difficult’ level, had grown old very quickly and her walls refused to do anything interesting.
Now she paused, because there was yelling and lo, there were the Dynamic Duo of Quill and Drax, engaging in one of their favourite routines: Which of Us is Dumber Today? A part of her knew she shouldn’t be so hard on them, especially Drax, who was still acclimatizing to his new environment. Quill wasn’t always the brightest star in the quadrant, but even he was likely frustrated with their circumstances. Amongst other things, she knew of his affection for Gamora and, of course, Gamora was still missing. Even if she were here, Nebula wasn’t sure how her sister would deal with Quill. The last time she’d seen her… well, the last time one of her had seen her, Gamora had just kicked ‘Loverboy’ in the --
“What is going on here?” Her eyes settled on the microwave. “Drax, didn’t you learn from the Lesson of the Pants?”
"I thought it was the clothes drier," Drax told Nebula. He moved to the trash can and stood over it, contemplating, before reaching down to pick the can back out of the trash. "You wasted these rations."
Clearly, exploding food was not counted as a waste.
"I was keeping myself occupied," grumbled Drax, proving that it was a solo activity to avoid getting into trouble, whatever that meant, and therefore was not wasteful.
Peter wrinkled his nose. “That’s garbage. You’re literally eating garbage now when there is perfectly good food here!” To prove his point, he threw open a cupboard at random and then froze.
“Oh wait. I think I got drunk and ate everything…..” He stood there for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. A few scrolls later, he gave a nod. “Right. And here’s the note reminding Sober Peter to buy groceries. Fuck. I don’t want to go anywhere…. and I’m still boycotting the subway after that last job.” Peter shuddered. He wasn’t really above getting dirty or wet or any of those things, but it really sucked to be stuck in the dark, helping panicking Terrans who didn’t have the lick of sense between them to NOT be stuck in the dark. Unconsciously, he reached up and rubbed his cheek. “That old lady’s purse hit hard… I had a bruise for a few days and this?” He outlined his face with his finger. “This is my moneymaker. Unacceptable… Nebula, go buy us food.”
To anyone watching this conversation, it might have seemed impossible to follow what anyone was saying. Nebula would have been able to tell the viewer that being in the conversation didn’t make it any easier to understand. And yet somehow, she managed to pick up the threads.
To Drax, she said, “We established that it wasn’t a clothes dryer, but there are rules regarding what items are permitted inside of it and at what temperatures.” Glancing at the empty cupboard, she then turned to Quill and said, “I will not fetch your food. If you eat it, it is your responsibility to replace it. And stop moaning about your face. It is fine. We saved many lives. It was not a job, we were not expecting to be reimbursed, we were assisting the Avengers.”
Without looking, she reached over and gently tugged the can from Drax’s hand. “Ïf you wish to eat this, I will prepare it for you.” Tilting her head at Quill, she added, “And we need to find something for him to do before he burns the building down.”
Drax was quiet for nearly a full minute after the can was taken from him, and then he told Peter, "Gamora's sister likes me better than you."
It was the small victories that counted. Even as he was learning about Terran clothes drying techniques and food preparation. More than that...
"Even I go to the boo day guys to restock the supplies I eat," he told them both. And he did. Stopping to let people take photos with what they called a tattooed freak from shows on the side. He didn't mind. It was used as promotional material for starting his wrestling career, as shown on the instant gram.
Meanwhile, back in Drax's apartment, the space was blanketed ankle high with wrappers from Hostess cakes and roasted nuts.
Peter made a face at Drax. “No one likes you better than me. No one likes either of us anyways so more than nothing is still nothing. That’s how math works. Also, I’m still the one that has to pay the bodega guys because you refuse to carry money with you.”
It was so annoying how Peter had to take care of everything as the most responsible and adult of the group.
He leaned against the counter, crossed his arms in front of him and watched Nebula as she prepared the canned pasta for Drax. “Well… we were working for SHIELD a while back there, just side jobs. Got paid for it. Nothing fancy. Fury and I don’t really see… eye to eye.” Why yes, there was an eyeball joke. Peter had to snicker a little at how clever he was. “But it kept us busy. Drax can’t follow a routine though. I mean, look at him -- I bet that was his breakfast and it’s basically dinnertime now.” He paused. “Wait, do you have something to do? I don’t even know what you do all day. I mean, I’m super important with Tony and like the million busy things I have to do with him.”
And Morgan. But Morgan wasn't work. She was fun.
Nebula removed the glass plate which rotated in the microwave and tipped most of the food remnants into a waste bin under the sink, then rinsed the glass and set it aside on the counter. Using a cloth, she snapped in open with a flick of her wrist and managed to wipe the inside of the appliance clean of goo in one effective swipe. That cloth, too, went into the waste bin, before she returned the glass plate to the now mostly clean microwave. Drax and Quill conversed around her. Well, Drax said very little, but Quill prattled on. It was the usual dynamic with this duo.
She found a bowl, tipped the contents of the can into it, and read the instructions on the side for cooking in a microwave. It took very little time to prepare this food properly, but following the recommended guidelines was, apparently, beyond some people. Some male people, she amended to herself.
She located a spoon and tore a section of towel made from a paper roll which, according to the package, was created from 100% recycled materials. Nebula approved, reflecting briefly on how she was partially recycled materials, too. The microwave dinged and she removed the bowl, setting it on the long island behind her along with the spoon and towel. If the bowl was too hot to hold, she didn’t notice.
“There, Drax - eat. I don’t think people actively dislike either of you.”Except maybe Pepper, Quill. Rinsing the can, she continued, “They probably have more important things to do with their time.”Such as dealing with national and international threats, assisting people in need, deciding what to wear in the morning... She doubted that Stark actually found Quill to be indispensable, but it sounded like he was keeping the man busy and, with any luck, keeping him out of trouble. Now, if only they could do the same for Drax.
The cleaned can then went into the bin for recycling. If she noticed the joke regarding Fury, she chose to ignore it. Instead, she asked Quill, “Do you use your currency to pay for Drax’s food or the currency allotted to him? If it is the latter, which it should be, then you have no complaint and it is laudable that you look out for your fellow crew member.” If she couldn’t actually kill Peter Quill, at least she could try killing him with kindness. “And what I do with my time is not your concern.”
"Stark has given me a square of plastic to pay for food," Drax grumbled, as he stood there, bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, scooping up some spaghetti-o's. He took one bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Then he stared down at the bowl in a way that would normally be described as 'pensive' but everyone knows that's impossible where Drax is concerned.
"This is disgusting," he said, setting the bowl aside, “I need a burrowito."
Peter nodded in agreement with Drax, which was almost painful to do.
"It is disgusting…. And burritos sound good." He looked over at Nebula, looked around the room and was suddenly hit with a sense of longing. Now that they all had their own apartments, these moments together weren't happening anymore.
"Who wants to uber eats some crap and watch some television? I'll even let you guys pick the show."
Nebula actually sighed. Perhaps at another time and in another place, she might have been angry with both of them: Drax for not thanking her or eating the food she’d ‘prepared’ and Quill for, she suspected, being interested in hanging out with his crewmates just because he was desperate for company and they happened to be available. But she wasn’t angry. Instead she picked up the bowl of SpaghettiOs, scraped the remains of the contents into the waste bin and washed the bowl and spoon, saying, “I don’t have anything else to do right now.” Which was probably as much of a ‘yes’ as Quill was going to get.
"I like uber eats, but not if you are ordering feces," Drax said, deadpan. It was apparent that he would never master turns of phrase or metaphors, even after being on Earth for this long. "I will follow to watch the television, as long as it is action or battle. I also like Dee Why Eye. I have learned to fix many things from the Dee Why Eye tutorials."
It was why the bar in his closet was hung askew and most of the cabinets in his apartment's kitchen space were switched around, so nothing lined up the right way when it opened or closed.
"What?" It was also apparent that Peter would never remember that he spoke primarily in idioms and colloquialisms. "Why the fuck would we….. oh never mind. Let's just get a pizza and watch stupid rich people buy houses."
He glanced over to Nebula. "Your place?" It was easily going to be the cleanest of all.
Plus, Peter wasn't really giving her a choice as he started to leave the common room, in her apartment's general direction.
Nebula didn’t mind hosting the evening, as she would rather not deal with the likely status of either man's quarters. She followed Quill, saying, “Pizza is acceptable, but you’re buying.” She snagged an apple from the bowl on the counter - one of the reasons she’d come to the room in the first place - and turned to look back at Drax, saying, “And the name of the channel is Dee-Eye-Why. I would rather watch that than rich people buying homes. They are predominantly annoying.” She enjoyed learning new things and that would be sufficient to prevent boredom while she ate pizza with her crewmates.
Drax nodded once at Nebula as he followed along.
"I am surprised their underlings do not have an uprising and kill them," he said. His stomach rumbled with the promise of pizza, which was a Terran food group that he enjoyed immensely. "They have tools. Those are ample weapons."
It was safe to say that Peter was in for a lot of side chatter about ways to maim others, no matter what shows were being watched.