Who: MJ and Gamora What: Real talk and shopping When: Sunday Rating: Yellow (because I know she's gonna swear at some point up in here)
MJ was all caught up on her homework, as usual. There were no school activities on Sundays, and her 'friends' were mostly boys and were most likely playing videogames in their underwear somewhere (not a mental image she relished). She'd been toying around with the network the freaky vampire wizard dude had given her access to, and she'd come across a foreigner getting toyed with by none other than the almighty Tony Stark. She had no idea what Peter Parker was so freaking gaga over that guy for. He seemed like a jerk.
The foreigner turned out to be an alien (!!!) named Gamora, who seemed really chill and pretty smart. She pretty much could have been a spaz who was also stupid and MJ still would have been internally bouncing up and down to meet her. An alien woman talking back to Tony Stark. What was not to instantly idolize there? Um, nothing. Not a single thing. She was more than ready to speak for the downtrodden of earth, the disenfranchized, the forgotten, the real folk. Even at that, she knew that she was already luckier than probably 80% of the world's population, growing up with relative wealth, decent nutrition and health care, etc, etc. but that didn't mean that the United States shouldn't be doing a lot better.
She took the subway ride into Manhattan to try to organized her jumbled thoughts. How would she start explaining the last thousand years of civilization's evolution? She was generally good at taking big topics and breaking them down into simpler things, because that was how her brain worked. Suck in all the details, then sort them into something logic and streamlined. But this was a big subject, even for her. She decided it was best to just see how things played out. Phone navigation, important places in the city not to be missed, and her favorite thrift shop circuit downtown would be where to start. Her impromptu dissertation about everything that was wrong with the patriarchy should probably be pared back. Anyway, it seemed like Gamora had a good handle on things as it was. Why should she imagine that things were different in space. The ruling class was still going to be jackasses.
She found the hotel, and waited in the lobby, not completely sure what the now-no-longer-green alien woman was going to look like.