InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Strange Fruit."

ɢᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ (soulstoned) wrote in valloic,
@ 2024-10-19 10:06:00

Entry tags:

!: action/thread/log, marvel: gamora, marvel: nebula

Nebula & Gamora

WHAT: Killing a scarecrew and getting sprayed with candy instead of guts
WHERE: Vallo forest
WHEN: During a patrol shift in September
WARNINGS: Hot Girl Violence
STATUS: Complete

“Humans eat this?” She squinted at the wrapper, “Toot-sie roll? They truly do hate themselves.”

“That’s a big boy,” said Gamora, head cocked to the side. Her posture was awfully relaxed despite the threat they were facing—a towering construct of straw and hay and burlap, ominous energy burning in its eyes, its smile wicked. The weapon it held was (and she’d admit this) impressive. She always liked scythes. Godslayer was her favored blade, of course. But that scythe. She wanted it. Standing beside her was Nebula, as they decided to team up for today’s patrol stroll and knew to expect these popping up around the forest for whatever reason. Seasonally appropriate enemies is what she was calling them, like Vallo decided it wanted to get festive with its violence. She supposed she could respect that. The Scarecrow loomed over them, spotting them as their next victim. It raised its weapon. Gamora unsheathed Godslayer with a zing. “Dibs on the weapon when it’s dead,” she declared. Nebula was ultimately fine with Gamora taking the weapon - she’d use anything, but scythes weren’t really her favorite. But on principal - the sister principal - she had to argue just a little. For fun. And also because that was just what they did. They made things a challenge. These days it was a lot more fun to be on that side of things than when Thanos was pitting them against each other for a challenge. “Or,” Nebula readied her arm cannon, the entire thing shifting with one move until it was glowing where her hand used to be. “Whoever gets final blow gets the weapon.” Gamora wished she felt cocky enough to take that challenge in stride. The bad luck juju had been bestowed upon her and she continued to warily approach most things in life before she broke something else and called forth the apocalypse. But she supposed she could do better with losing - and losing fairly - to her sister, because this was for entertainment (and their job) and there were no consequences for loss. Aside from a stinging pride, though she liked to think that was handled with more grace nowadays. “Pick a similar weapon then,” she shot back, watching the scarecrow cock its head at them so slowly, like it was studying them. Gamora could admit that the motion was almost startling. “You blasting a hole in it on the first try isn’t fair.” Nebula rolled her eyes but did as her sister asked, by popping her arm and shifting it into a sword. “Coward.” It wasn’t said with even half of the heat as it might have been when they were in their more competitive age. She didn’t hesitate to launch herself at it, preferring a more offensive route than defense. But it also opened her up for attacks, though Nebula was confident this creepy scarecrow was nothing compared to either of them. She landed her sword-arm on its leg and stabbed straight through hay. “The least these things could do is have some flesh to stab.” “And what did you—” Gamora shot forward, Godslayer zinging through the air with the swing of her arm, and she aimed to slice through the leg. It should have been effortless—this blade was forged to fit its name—but whatever magic fueled it kept it from being a clean dismembered. “What did you expect from something that is made of fucking straw?” She didn’t expect blood. More hay to pour out of it, maybe. Gamora caught a peek of something plastic, and she swore she heard a crinkle, like plastic. The scythe swung at them. She leapt backwards to avoid its cut and landed on her feet to give the scarecrow a confused, judging kind of look. “There’s something inside it!” Nebula was at the scarecrow’s back, and couldn’t see exactly what Gamora was talking about, which is why she immediately rolled her eyes and sliced further through the straw-filled leg. “We just established that was straw.” Her growl had an obvious tone of duh added to it, which she had clearly learned from Quill. But even as she wasn’t aware of what her sister was talking about, Nebula did trust her - these days. She stabbed again, this time her sword-arm went through it’s stomach, where the crinkling noise got louder. “... That doesn’t sound like straw.” “I told you!” Gamora shouted, feet moving dodge another swing of its curved blade, and she slid under and in between its legs—gross—and thrust Godslayer upwards. Crotch-attacks were only dirty cheating moves when there were actual genitals to damage and the scarecrow had none. This was purely recreational. Dragging the blade, she managed to make a deep incision and something hit her square on the forehead. It was light. Wrapped in shiny plastic. She caught it with her other hand and gave it a look. It was a ring-pop. Something else fell onto her head. It was also light and harmless. “This thing is peeing candy on me,” she said, in disbelief at the arrangement of words that just came out of her mouth. “No one likes a know-it-all,” Nebula shouted right back, in the most sisterly of fashions. She was positive Gamora didn’t have to put it quite like that, and her blue face wrinkled in disgust. Then interest as she spotted a few boxes of her favorite candies among the “gifts”. She brought her sword-arm through it’s body and sliced the Scarecrow in half at the waist, causing the upper half to topple over onto the ground and for candy to spill out like a pinata. “Ha. I win.” Nebula’s smug expression didn’t last long, as the Scarecrow didn’t seem to die as one candy/hay-filled arm jolted out to grab her leg. Gamora, while marveling at what the fuck all was coming out of this thing, didn’t allow herself to be entirely distracted from the fact that this thing was still some creature that must have crawled straight out of the bowels of hell — and therefore, dangerous. She saw that rapid movement from the corner of her eye and reacted accordingly. The ring pop was thrown at Nebula’s face (just because), and her sword swung to sever the hand that had grabbed her sister’s ankle from its wrist. More candy spilled out, a whole kaleidoscope of options beginning to cover the grassy earth in excess. “Did you now,” she huffed out, taking a leisurely walk towards the scarecrow’s head, and lobbing it right off cleanly. “Bitch,” Nebula answered without a shred of actual anger in her voice. It was more of a playful quip, the way they could be with each other these days despite years of past trauma. Growth or whatever, as Mantis might say. She threw the ring pop back at Gamora and opted to “cheat” by flash firing the rest of the Scarecrow’s straw so it shot into a burst of flames and smoke, but spared the candy that was already on the ground. “You can keep your engagement ring, I don’t need one.” Instead she swept up a handful of candy and unwrapped one to eat - a small brown tube of-- something? Nebula didn’t know, but one bite in and it was disgusting enough to spit out. “Humans eat this?” She squinted at the wrapper, “Toot-sie roll? They truly do hate themselves.” Gamora wasn’t going to protest with her methods of finishing it off. At this rate it was probably best that it was roasted into ashes—or sugar, considering its innards. She caught the ring pop, sheathed Godslayer and tucked it into the slip on her pants. “I’m going to hate myself for saying this,” she began, ripping open the ring pop to investigate. It smelled normal, full of artificial sweetness and flavor, and she gave it a tentative lick. “But those tootsie-rolls look exactly like what Rocket and the raccoons drop. I’ll pass. But also—what the fuck is going on with all of this?” She gestured to the flaming corpse of the scarecrow, and then to all the spilt candy. “Isn’t this the birthday decoration humans call the pinata?” Gamora’s tootsie-roll comparison was enough to make Nebula pull a disgusted face and toss the roll. Not today. “I don’t know.” She scanned the area, and grabbed a few candies that she knew Groot liked, because they were all soft for Groot and there was no point in denying it. Next was the scythe, which she swiped off the ground with her mechanical arm and then tossed it to Gamora, confident her sister would catch it even without a warning ahead of time. “We should look around and see if there are any others, at this rate we’ll have enough candy that maybe Groot won’t insist on going out-- treating. Whatever he called it.” A beat. “And to make sure people stay safe, I guess.” “Trick or treating,” Gamora corrected as she caught the weapon, inspecting its weight and sharpness of the blade—she was impressed by it. “Which sounds misleading; I understand that it involves a lot more candy and a lot less trickery.” She spun the scythe a bit in her arm to test its balance, the ring candy in her mouth like a child’s pacifier. Then she pulled it out with a pronounced pop, her lips already turning blue to match it. “Let’s go. I’d like to see what the other ones are stuffed with now. Could be candy. Could be some actual horrors.” It’d be a fun gamble to take for the evening. Nebula shifted her arm back to the cannon that Gamora had previously dubbed cheating. “I hope it’s horrors, in the mood to spray you with some guts now.”