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Tweak says, "Just a little too slow!"

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪᴇsᴛ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ (

weaponizing) wrote in

valarlogs,
@ 2017-05-01 19:49:00

Who: Regina & Gamora
What: GIRL DATE~ and some gossip
When: This past weekend
Where: A very classy bar
Rating/Warnings: It's low, except talks of bangin' and a little death
Status: Complete

Gamora liked to drink, and her tastes were varied. Sometimes she liked dives, smoky caverns, lights speckled with age and dark wood. Other times (and it was really dependent on who she was with), she wanted something a little classier.

This place resembled something straight from a movie set. Dimly lit, booths that were secluded, a bar that looked vintage and old school. Her choice of establishments popped up in the late 60s, according to the co-worker at Stark who recommended it - the recommendation also came highly because of the selections crafted by expert mixologists, not just your standard uncorking a bottle or even beer on tap.

There was thankfully a massive list of wines to choose from, from the more local ones to European, wines from all around the world. Delicious cocktails and the food - this was a place that actually had bone marrow on the menu in terms of pub snacks. Nothing like potato skins or mozzarella sticks - a lot more class involved here. Escargot, chateaubriand, charcuterie - she was sure Regina would find something she enjoyed.

Gamora’s employer seemed more stylish and elegant, less ‘dirty glasses left out from the night before.’

She went with a coconut stout and hoped it tasted like something tropical. Mmm. “I think this is the first time I have been out that is not to work, since I...changed,” she mused, folding her arms on the table. Wearing jeans and a snakeskin vest, boots with straps and buckles, it didn’t look like she’d particularly dressed up - but she had jewelry on too, a claw ring and a touch of green that was the butterfly hair clip. Also a touch of something soft, because Gamora had her moments.

Gamora’s employer was very much not about the ‘dirty glasses left out from the night before’ - which wasn’t to say she hadn’t been around the less savory places, but she ideally preferred to sit down somewhere that didn’t require a tetanus shot beforehand. Somewhere with premium alcohol was preferred as well, and actual glassware was always a plus. None of that ‘red solo cup’ crap trend that’d been going around, thank you.

Wine was usually paired with dinner or breaking the news to someone about them impending death, but out and about, oh, it was all about the vodka martinis. Absolutely filthy vodka martinis paired with bleu cheese stuffed olives. Regina’s favorite.

Overall, she greatly approved.

“It looks like you never changed,” she said, looking Gamora over - which was the point of the glamour anyway, and it wasn’t anything terribly complex. At least she remained relatively human-like. Her outing ensemble was a double-breasted dress, simple and black, paired with a stylish but practical set of ankle strapped heels. Clothes without baby stains, what a luxury. “How’s it feel, completely becoming something other than human?”

Yes, the glamour was very well done. It was a necklace, an enchanted piece of jewelry, and Gamora had it tucked into the front of her vest in the valley of her somewhat modest bosom. She knew that Peter didn’t really get why she needed to wear one, but this was Earth. Modern society. Aliens didn’t go wandering the streets, they just didn’t. Though it was cute that he simply wished for her to be herself. She was alright with having to disguise her special form of beauty though, really. For the most part.

“It hurt at first, physically,” she explained, taking a drink from her beer when it arrived. The rye made it spicy, and she had a feeling a pint would go down far too easily - but it was good, and reminded her of Hawaii. Sometimes she missed the place. “I had to get used to the feel of a cybernetic skeleton. I didn’t want to look in the mirror much either.”

But she’d gotten over that. Again, for the most part. Her green skin and the abnormally high plane of her cheekbones, the sharpness that could cut glass, also seemed jarring when she first caught a glimpse and then remembered this is who she was.

Regina always thought she looked rather lovely, anyway - the change in facial structure added an exotic light. What was underneath, however, she could understand that being an unpleasant adjustment. It’d been the same for Jane when she awoke with cybernetic implants and was bleeding from whatever holes on her face.

An olive was pulled from the tiny plastic sword that arrived with her martini. “I was briefly in a relationship with someone that had something similar - not her entire skeleton, but there were was definitely some strange tech that had helped bridge pieces of a couple missing parts on the inside.” A resurrection by science. How interesting, considering bringing someone back to life was often chalked up to something like magic. “And your man thing is still sticking by you, of course? How is that going? Don’t be shy - you can tell me all the gritty details.”

That’s what these dates were for anyway, no? A little bedroom gossip? Complaining about a man’s snoring habits? Regina had practically adopted the secretly green-skinned woman as her sister - she was trying the concept out.

Oh. Gamora blushed, an honest to goodness flush to her cheeks. It was a downright girly moment, and those were new to her - but she didn’t mind. In fact, it was nice to actually feel things. To be happy, to have emotions. And the extracurricular activities didn’t really hurt either.

“He tells me I am beautiful,” she replied, hands wrapped around her glass, and she glanced down shyly. A killer, actually bashful. Who would have thought. “When I woke up fully changed he seemed excited that I looked like what he remembered. But I think to him it doesn’t matter what I look like.” Peter already said she’d look nice orange or yellow or whatever color - and Gamora believed he was sincere. “It’s going well though.”

She wanted to have these types of discussions with another woman, all of the nitty gritty and the gossip and the laughing. Gamora had a few girlfriends, but she wasn’t sure if she could go into those details with the others. “He’s...I enjoy fornicating with him. It is probably normal, to want to do that all of the time at first? I resisted in our dreams, but...”

Honestly, she had to wonder just what in the galaxies her dream self was thinking. That Gamora was even more stiff and closed off than she was now.

Gamora. Blushing. Regina looked wickedly delighted as she sipped her martini, sweetened with herbal vermouth. “I’ve never heard someone describe fucking so formally,” she said. Such a classless word for a woman known for having class to begin with, but she was filthy where it counted. It was why she and the pirate were such a perfect, dangerous match for one another. “And wanting to do it all the time is certainly normal. Not to mention healthy - and a fantastic way to resolve arguments, I must say.”

She and Killian had always been fairly shameless but they had to be a little more creative with their family. Sometimes they had a full house of Meara, Henry and Kenzi. Still, they found a way. “Is he your first serious relationship? Or has there been anyone else before him?”

She didn’t seem like a woman who gave herself to just anyone easily, but you know what they say about assumptions.

“He is my first,” Gamora assured. Then she realized that could be taken another way entirely, and she quickly backpedaled. “My first serious relationship, yes,” she tacked on there. Obviously she’d had interludes before - one night stands here and there, men she found in bars or out on the job that she took an interest in solely to scratch an itch - but nothing really substantial. In fact, those had all been ‘get the fuck out, I don’t want to cuddle or see you in the morning’ situations. “Before, I never really had an interest in finding someone to be with. I also thought maybe it’s just...not for me. Like I don’t deserve it.”

But she hadn’t been able to resist Peter. He sent her succulents and planetary chocolates for Valentine’s Day. He was so optimistic about things, starkly different than her own viewpoint, and he also tended to be kind - something Gamora was not. With him though, she could learn to bring out those sides of her that growing up with a father like Thanos stifled.

“You have been married before?” she asked Regina, right after the food Gamora had ordered was delivered. Yes, she couldn’t resist sustenance either. And yes, it was a chocolate souffle - beer and chocolate went great together. It was that kind of night. “That did not sour you on the whole experience?” Obviously not, since she was engaged again - maybe she just needed to find her perfect mate.

And yet, someone had fallen onto her lap - it was good to see that in this life, she and Peter had found one another. “You’re not a terrible monster undeserving of your own little slice of happiness,” Regina encouraged, fingertip caressing the rim of her glass. “But, yes, I had a first marriage. In both lives, really. I was forced to marry Snow White’s father in the dreams, but as for this life -”

Well. That was a man she didn’t care to ever recall. It was nothing like the first love she’d experienced with Daniel, but she did love the man in some way. It didn’t last. “I married rather young, and unbearably stupid. It was fine until we realized I had issues not being able to carry to term.” Getting pregnant wasn’t the problem. Staying pregnant was, and it’d taken an emotional and physical toll that turned a marriage into an absolute wasteland. “So he decided to knock someone else up behind my back, and then came the divorce. Good riddance, really. Only thing I kept from that marriage is a brother-in-law.”

Ah, Hans. That was someone she dearly missed, but his presence was still felt - he came to visit when they brought Meara home, and let her borrow the condo when she had to escape Captain Dark One. If only he were around more.

Gamora frowned, not liking that some idiot man had cheated on Regina - after deducing that she wouldn’t be able to act as a baby factory for him too, that just made it worse. Like that was all women were good for, bearing children. Well, she supposed that if it had been her, he would have cheated also - many men would, if they knew they couldn’t satisfy that evolutionary drive to procreate with their current partner. It was gross.

“At least something good came out of it - family is important,” she noted, nudging the plate of souffle in between them, in the center of the table. She’d asked for two spoons so they could both partake. Gamora would happily share her chocolate with a friend. “And now you have a daughter and a mate who cares for you - while your former husband is probably going bald and dealing with a beer gut.”

Not like she put a lot of stock into karma and that sort of thing, but someday, you were judged. The scales would balance out and you would not get any more or any less than you deserved.

“Are you excited about your upcoming wedding?” Gamora didn’t know if that was in the cards for her personally - but maybe. She didn’t really have anything against the tradition.

An expected baby factory in one marriage, arm candy (when convenient) in another - if the old fart known as King Leopold tried knocking her up then she would have sabotaged her uterus much more early on in the Enchanted Forest, thank you. Regina’s luck in the relationship department was a dreary thing in both worlds, but she had found what she’d been looking for in Killian. Someone she didn’t have to tip-toe around, someone who understood what was like to have a darkness in you that couldn’t be removed, not completely.

“You’re not wrong about the balding or the gut,” she chuckled, partaking in the souffle appreciatively - she couldn’t turn it down, no matter how conscious she was about her waistline. It didn’t pair well with olives, the chocolate, but it wasn’t stopping her. “I am excited, though. There’s a difference between planning this one versus the last. The last was all about the wedding, and this one’s all about the relationship. Should have taken that as a sign that things were doomed already during my first.”

Ever look back at mistakes and realize they were so embarrassing that all they did was make you cringe? Two relationships of hers fit the bill. The third time really was the charm.

“Well, like you said, you were young,” Gamora chuckled, dipping her spoon into the chocolately goodness and then slipping it into her mouth. Very nice. If she could eat this everyday without gaining five hundred pounds and going into a diabetic coma, she certainly would. “We do not know everything when we’re young.” Even if sometimes people thought they did - that wasn’t always the case, however. “I am glad it worked out for you now. Have you planned much of the wedding yet?”

She couldn’t even imagine where to start. But no doubt Regina knew these things. “And if you need me to help you by dealing with...ornery vendors or something, I will be happy to.” That was something she’d become good at, while working as an interior design assistant. A lot of her job was acting as the go-between, so Regina did not have the headache of dealing with morons.

“Mmm,” was the sound she made before pulling the spoon from her mouth - wiped clean of the dessert, obviously. It was delicious. “It’ll be on the Roger, and most of it is really the catering and any rental equipment.” Though, really, she wasn’t stressing about it. Neither was Killian. Regina was very orderly and punctual, and there was no doubt things would get done.

But it was exciting nonetheless. “I’ll take you out for a couple errands if you’d like. Perhaps you’ll even get that wedding fever?” Don’t worry, she was teasing - mostly. “It’s not going to be some stuffy religious ceremony chock-full of awkwardly archaic traditions. The beauty of it is that you can do whatever the hell you want for yours.”

Wedding fever. Gamora smirked, though it was mostly her facial muscles twitching in an attempt to prevent herself from laughing too hard. “I would love to go on errands - “ Just to see what was involved in planning an event like this, call it sheer morbid curiosity, “...and yet I am uncertain about the fever part.”

However, she had a feeling that if she proposed tomorrow for some reason, Peter would be all for it. He was so squishy. They had not even dropped the l-word bomb yet though, so Gamora was not in any particular hurry.

“He would want it to be on his ship too, I think,” she mused about Peter. “Sadly, he doesn’t have the Milano here yet. I know he’s been hoping it would show up.” Getting married on his beloved space vessel? Oh yeah. Gamora could see that happening. Men and their ships. Their very large toys.

Ah, indeed, men and their ships - it was like having a mistress on the side for them, and dare she ever call the Jolly Roger a mere ‘boat.’ Killian always acted like she was insulting his mother (if he ever had one to care for, anyway). If she wanted to give him heart palpitations, she’d sometimes refer to it as a canoe.

Another spoonful of mousse went into her mouth. “I’m sure he’ll be obsessing over it when it arrives,” she smirked. “Killian’s obsessed with his own, but I can’t say I’m not fond of it either. There’s something whimsical about it.” Other than it was, literally, made of magical wood - but the sight of it on the seas, the flag. A piece of the history they dreamt. “And I have heard of a wedding in space, actually. On a spaceship. If that gives you the fever.”

“Peter would want a space wedding - I might bring it up just to see the look on his face,” Gamora laughed. She was honestly amused and not panicking, so that had to say something. But she felt strongly about Peter - maybe she loved him. It would take some more consideration.

However, that sort of begged the question. “How did you realize...he was the one you wanted to marry? Or realized when you loved him?” Gamora wanted to know. Just, hm...for research purposes. She would need another beer for this.

Were these the type of things sisters discussed? That she did not know either, but she assumed. She did not have any sisters here, but if she and Nebula had been closer - or, well, actually. Gamora could not picture her adoptive sister ever talking about something as frivolous as love. The cyborg aspects of her would not know how to compute such things.

Making your partner squirm in ways that weren’t exactly restricted to the bedroom? Also an important aspect of a relationship. Hopefully Gamora would snap a picture. And as for her question, well, talk about a loaded gun. Regina had to put it an order for another martini.

“I can tell you it didn’t involve candle lights or any sort of romantic notion, when we first said we loved each other,” the queen started, memories taking her back to that condo - that night, with his crazed eyes and disheveled hair. “Long story short, a curse from our dreams ravaged him to the point of mania. He snapped out of it for a moment, we said the words, and then he drove a sword into himself - it was the only way to stop the curse. Suicide by Excalibur.”

Obviously things turned out well. A planned trip to the Underworld to retrieve them and they resumed life, though not without the memories scarring them. “It would advise you to say the words before a life or death situation. If you can at all help it. After that I haven’t wasted the words. You never know when it’ll be the last time you say it, or they hear it.”

Well, that had quite a sobering effect on Gamora. She pulled her second beer toward her, cradling the Precious as she thought over that piece of advice. “It is so unknown, what could happen. What could cross over.” People talked about items, physical things, physical changes (and she was now physically living that one) - but curses? Death? That seemed rather unfair.

Then again, the scars of those traumatic experiences were burned into their other selves. They shouldn’t expect to escape unscathed just because they were in a whole new universe, and a different version of what they remembered.

“We did almost die, many times,” she sighed, fingertip tracing the slight condensation on her fresh beer, over the glass. “I hope that doesn’t happen again. But I will consider what you told me. I wouldn’t want the words to just...go unsaid.”

“They’re not the easiest words to say,” Regina pointed out. It meant vulnerability. It meant risk. “But they’re worth saying. We’d been together before hand, but there’s always something so jarring about losing someone that makes you realize it when it can be too late. And after that, well - a plan was formed based on the events we dreamt, and I made sure to not come back up to the world of the living without him. I suppose that says enough in my resolve of wanting to spend the rest of my life with him.”

It was a brutal, brutal world they lived in - but they chose to live in this area despite the consequences. In the end it was how she got everything she wanted, even if she had to endure trials of blood and fire to obtain it. “Are you ready to say the words, you think?”

Sometimes having that special relationship in the shared dream world too helped moved things along. Like a reunion, a second chance.

“Maybe. I can’t imagine being with anyone else, I don’t want to be with anyone else, and I feel much lighter when I am around him,” Gamora said. Not literally lighter (no doubt Drax would have in fact taken it in such a way, the amusing lug) but rather, in the sense that she didn’t have to be so serious all the time. Or feel like actually giving her heart to someone was weakness, because it wasn’t. Not at all. There was that certain amount of risk with that.

Talk of love was best over drinks. She didn’t think she could have managed if she didn’t have beer though. Maybe Gamora was getting more in touch with her emotions, but there was still a part of her that wanted to freeze up like a deer in headlights.

She would not. She could handle this. “I will let you know what happens,” a half-smile flickered on her face, “I’m sure if I do say the words I will also need to freak out a little afterward.” Just a little.

Ah, there was that martini. Seemed like the waiter knew to request the extra olives too. “You know the cliche line, hm? ‘Listen to your heart’? It’s fairly decent advice,” she chuckled. “But don’t worry, you’re obviously more than welcome to freak out to me. Every woman needs a friend to do that with.”

Regina was interested to see how it’d all flourish too - Peter seemed like a good match for her, someone that softened those sharp edges and melted that layer of ice. And fingers crossed it was smooth sailing for them, whatever came at the in the horizon. Their dreams didn’t sound finished, not quite.

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