Who - Gamora // OPEN What - Exploring Where - NYC/Hotel When - Midmorning 05/14 Rating - tbd
Gamora was not a particularly social woman. She might have been, if she had been given the chance, but she still remembered the day Thanos had come to Ben-Whobari. That had been the day that Gamora died, as far as she was concerned. This thing, this creature that now stalked the halls of the Crown Plaza hotel was not the same Gamora that had lived on Ben-Whobari as a child. Thanos had been right, that she’d gone to bed hungry most nights, that there had been suffering and pain on Ben-Whobari… but had he been right, overall? Gamora didn’t know.
Ben-Whobari thrived today. He’d told her as such, and she’d checked. Thanos was no liar, and Gamora hated him all the more for that. And none of this mattered now, because he was dead. Thanos was dead twice over. She’d been told that Thor had cut his head off in present day, and then when Gamora herself and Thanos had traveled from 2014 to the Endgame battle between Thanos and um. Well, the entirety of Terra, near as Gamora could tell, Tony Stark had killed him again.
And Gamora had run. For the first time in her life, she had run away instead of staying to deal with the trouble she’d caused and the decisions she’d made. She’d turned on Thanos, and then she’d turned tail. That was the real reason she was so upset to have landed at the Crown Plaza and right in Nebula’s lap. She would have to deal with these choices she’d made, the decisions she’d come to, and the consequences thereof.
In any case, since that short meeting with Nebula, Gamora had kept to herself. It was to the point that she didn’t even know if she had a roommate, because she’d been in her assigned room once. When she was tired, she found somewhere quiet and secluded to sleep. When she was hungry, she ate, and never when anyone else was around. This morning, though, Gamora realized that she was still running, still hiding… and that was not what Gamora was meant to be.
She was the fiercest woman in the galaxy, a creature formed of enhanced parts, bones that were almost impossible to break, muscles that could heft a rocketship’s gun and allow her to use it as a personal weapon, joints that could dislocate as easily as not, and enhanced senses, too. As if Gamora needed those. Even without the red jeweled Godslayer that Thanos had gifted her with, Gamora was a walking weapon, and she had no reason to run, nor to hide.
So she ventured outside for the first time today, with no idea that the hotel had been moved to New York City, or that all hell had broken loose on this simulacrum of Terra.