Escape from Celestial Chains
The Kyln.
If imagining the environment in here wasn't horrible enough for her, then she could've never imagined that this could've been worse. First of all, the place stunk. Between the scent of all the prisoners' body odor mixing together and the disgusting cafeteria food, she couldn't tell which was worse. In the middle of the cafeteria there was a large tower that seemed to house a guard at the top with some sort of a control panel. Prisoners around her used technology that they somehow managed to get theirs hands on, or were in groups, chatting and acting like complete idiots.
And as if this wasn't bad enough already, one of their group members appeared to be attracting a lot of attention. Almost immediately a group of prisoners surrounded them, judging or shouting. Something whisked by her and hit Peter in the face. If she cared enough, she would have checked on him. He looked around, bewildered.
"You first! You first!" a prisoner shouted.
"Murderer!" was another.
"Coming for you first, Gamora!"
"You're dead!"
"You're scum! You're scum!"
After gazing around the room at them for a moment, Crimson turned to Gamora. She still walked through, flinching at the items thrown that hit her but otherwise paying them no mind, apart from a few annoyed glances around the room.
"Like I said, she's got a rep," said Rocket, shrugging.
"I could tell," Crimson responded, glancing down at him.
He nodded to her. "A lot of prisoners here have lost their families to Ronan and his goons. She'll last a day, tops."
The group walked through the room, avoiding the prisoners as well as they could, despite some of their disgusting appearances.
"They guards'll protect her, right?" Peter asked nervously.
Rocket shook his head. "They're here to stop us from getting out. They don't care what we're doing to each other inside."
Gamora glowered, looking around the room with her jaw set slightly. "Whatever nightmare the future holds, are dreams compared to what's behind me," she said, watching Quill, who had turned to look at her over his shoulder.
He turned back around, just to come face to face with some kind of abomination-looking blue creature. Crimson sucked in a breath, taking a step backwards for a second, not wanting to get involved. The creatures neck was practically non-existent, with as face as if a human's had been played with and morphed differently like clay. On top of that, he was huge, towering over Quill.
"Check out the new meat. I'm gonna slather you up in Gunavian jelly," he chucked, "And go to town..."
Before finishing his sentence, he was cut off by Groot sticking two branchy fingers up his nose, and, clearly, growing them. The creature practically yelled, grabbing Groot's arm and attempting to pull his fingers out of his nose. He screamed more as the beaches grew so far he began to be picked up, his feet dangling uselessly.
Rocket put his arms up, preparing to give a speech. "Let's make something clear," he said pointing to Peter and drawing back his ears. "This one here is out booty!" He thumped his fist against his chest twice. He turned in a semi-circle, glaring around the room. "You wanna get to him, you go through us! Or, more accurately, we go through you."
She heard the blue creature's bones crack- though not sure which ones, most likely the nose- as he fell to the ground with a loud thud, groaning in pain and holding his nose with his hands. She saw Peter watch him writher on the ground for a moment, swaying a bit and seeming a bit dazed. She pat him on the shoulder as she followed behind Rocket and Groot, stepping over the blue giant's body.
He pointed in the direction of Groot and Rocket. "I'm with them," he said with a small smile on his face.
The inmate continued to sob on the ground. "I hate you," he mumbled.
Gamora followed behind her, walking through the crowds of aliens yelling in her face and her ears. She seemed fairly unfazed, not even bothering to look at them even when they were close enough at she was certain they were spitting on her while yelling. They both walked calmly into the girl's bunk, it seems, with no one else inside. Gamora sat on the bench and stared forward, only flinching when one prisoner slammed against the window on the door and yelled, "You're dead!"
More inaudible shouts could be heard from outside as the inmates slowly dissipated from the door. However, Crimson sat there, studying Gamora who continued to stare straight ahead. She was clearly attempting to remain strong, not daring to break her poker face and show fear. But she still knew that there was fear in her. Somewhere.
Crimson looked out the window and down, towards the cafeteria. Most of the inmates were beginning to retire to their bunks, but there was one, who sat at a bench near a table. His skin was a grayish under the light and red scars of some sort were carved across his skin in different patterns. She shuddered, knowing he was watching for Gamora, waiting. She focused her gaze back to her.
"You okay? You can tell me. I get it," she whispered, because she really, truly did understand. However, Gamora still stared forward, either ignoring her or lost in thought. She shrugged and stared down at her fingers to pick at her nails.
*ೃ༄
She woke up that night, her head pounding from sleeping on the hard floor with no pillow or blanket. Although she had done it many times before, the comfort from laying on the hotel bed for those few days had managed to change her.
She glanced around the room, confused at her suddenly striking loneliness. Gamora had left. Or rather, disappeared. "Fuck," she whispered, standing. She heard shouting from down the hallway.
Gamora.
Standing and rushing out of the room, she headed to where she knew the rest of the guys were celled. She knocked on the window until Quill, who had been laying down- but with open eyes- sat up. He narrowed his eyes at her and she rolled hers, waving at him urgently for him to come out. As he stood to do as she motioned, Rocket sat up too, half of his fur pressed to the side of his face.
"Quill, where you going?" he asked drowsily, before seeing Crimson and starting up with an annoyed groan.
"What?" Quill asked once outside, whispered in a harsh tone with a glare and knitted brows.
She glared at him. "Do you not hear the shouting? That's Gamora. We need to go help her- the prisoners got ahold of her. And if we want to get some of those damn units..." she said, widening her eyes.
It took a moment, but then it clicked. "Oh, okay, yeah, yeah," he said, following her swiftly, although she suspected the units weren't the only reason.
Rocket followed behind, panicked whispers trying to convince them- but mostly Quill- to turn around.
They headed down to where the drains apparently were, since the guard had advised them to kill her down there for their convenience. Typical. She strained her already advanced hearing, listening to the prisoners conversations.
"They're going to kill her. They have a knife to her throat," she whispered to Quill and Rocket behind her.
"What-? How do you know that?" Quill asked, and she could almost hear the pure confusion in his voice.
Finally, they reached a point where even Peter could hear their conversations.
"Gamora, consider this a death sentence for your crimes against the galaxy," one of them had practically growled, with red skin and manic eyes.
"You dare?" a rough voice echoed. Crimson leaned out a bit from behind the wall. It was the same figure that had been observin\g Gamora from the cafeteria earlier when they had both first reached their rooms, the one who hadn't yet gone to his quarters.
He stepped out from a round doorway that appeared to lead to a storage room. His fists were balled at his sides, and the room fell silent. The red inmate stepped back from Gamora.
"You know who I am, yes?" he asked, walking closer.
"You're Drax. The Destroyer," the red alien said, voice wavering, practically cowering at this point.
"Quill!" she heard Rocket whisper nervously behind her, and turned to see him tugging on his clothing. Crimson put a finger to her mouth to shush him.
"And you know why they call me this," Drax the Destroyer continued, slowly walking closer.
"You slayed dozens of Ronan's minion," the red alien replied again, this time bowing his head down slightly.
Drax breathed heavily, stepping up to Gamora. "Ronan murdered my wife, Ovette, and my daughter, Camaria. He slaughtered them where he stood. And he laughed!" Drax now yelled, directly into the red one's face. "Her life is not yours to take."
"Quill?" Rocket whispered again behind her, his tone more urgent.
"He killed my family. I shall kill one of his in return," Drax finished speaking, turning to look at Gamora again.
"Of course, Drax, here, I..." the red alien said, handing Drax his knife.
Gamora breathed in slightly before grabbing the knife of the one to her right holding her against the wall, stabbing him, then stabbing the other one to her left, before grabbing both of the knifes and holding them against the throats of both the red alien and Drax.
Quill walked around her and slowly approached the scene. Rocket followed close behind, whispered, "Quill, what are you doing?" Crimson followed in suit.
"I’m no family to Ronan or Thanos," Gamora stated menacingly before stepping back from their throats and dropping the knives. "I'm your only hope at stopping him."
Drax yelled, grabbing Gamora by the neck and shoving her against the wall once more. She yelled out, too. He held the knife to her throat.
"Your words mean nothing to me, woman!" he shouted.
Quill stepped up this time, yelling, "hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!"
"Oh, crap," Rocket grumbled behind him. She looked down to study him. He was hunched over now, two fingers pinching his snout.
"You know, if killing Ronan is truly your one sole purpose, I don't think this is the best way to go about it," he said, arms out to show he had no weapons. Crimson followed close behind, interested in how the conversation would go.
"Are you not the man this wench attempted to kill?" Drax asked, looking at Peter threateningly.
Crimson shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Well, I mean, she's hardly the first woman to try and do that to me," he said, chuckling. "Look, this is from a smoking-hot Rajak girl. Stabbed me with a fork. Didn't like me skipping out of her at sunrise. I got, right here, a Kree girl tried to rip out my thorax. She caught me with this skinny little A'askavariian who worked in Nova Records. ...I was trying to get information. You ever see an A'askavariian? They have tentacles, and needles for teeth. If you think I'm seriously interested in that, then..."
Drax looked at him, a glare forming.
Peter blinked twice, his face falling. "You don't care. But here's the point. She betrayed Ronan. He's coming back for her."
Drax turned back to Peter.
"And when he does, that's when you..." he rose his hand to his neck and dragged his finger across his throat in a gesture.
Drax stared at him, dumbfounded. "Why would I put my finger on his throat?"
"...What?" Peter paused for a moment. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Oh, no. It's a symbol. This is a symbol for you, slicing his throat," he explained, a small smile on his face.
"I would not slice his throat. I would cut his head clean off," he responded.
"It's a general expression for you killing somebody," Peter said, exasperated, turning to the small red one. "You've heard of this. You've seen this, right? You know what that is."
The red one nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Yeah."
"Everyone knows," Peter now said to Drax, almost triumphantly.
"Not sure he does," she whispered to him. “His people are…”
Drax turned to stare at the red one.
He shrunk under his gaze. "No, no."
Peter turned to him, glaring. "What I'm saying is, you want to keep her alive. Don't do his work for him."
Drax turned back to Gamora, calculating. Suddenly, he released his grip from her neck.
Gamora fell to the ground, coughing.
"I like your knife. I'm keeping it," Drax said to the red prisoner, turning to leave.
He watched after him. "That was my favorite knife."
They slowly filed out of the room, and she could see the blatant relief on Rocket's face since his precious bounty didn't get killed. Peter quickly followed Gamora as she walked out.
"I could care less whether you live whether or you die," he said as he finally caught up to her.
"Then why stop the big guy?" Gamora asked, whipping around to face them.
"Simple. We know you got a seller, and he's got the Orb. Money," she responded, glaring at Gamora.
Peter waved his arm at her in agreement. "You know where to sell my Orb."
"How are we gonna sell it when we and it are still here?" Gamora asked, eyebrows raised.
Peter turned to Rocket smugly. Crimson looked down at him as well.
"My friend Rocket, here, has escaped 22 prisons."
Rocket's expression was smug as well, his arms crossed. "Oh, we're getting out. And then we're headed straight to Yondu to retrieve your bounty," he said to Quill, pointing at him.
Peter held his hands in front of him, his tone soft, as if speaking to a child. "How much was your buyer willing to pay you for my Orb?"
Gamora hesitated. "Four billion units."
Crimson whistled in surprise. A lot more than she had expected.
"What?!" Rocket shouted in bewilderment.
"Holy shit," Peter said, facing Gamora.
"That Orb is my opportunity to get away from Thanos and Ronan," she said gravely. "If you free us, I'll lead you to the buyer directly and I'll split the profit between the four of us."
Crimson nodded, satisfied.
"I am Groot," the tree said, scaring her. She startled back.
It was leaning against the gate separating them, fingers looped through the holes.
"Five of us," Rocket said, looking up at Groot. "Asleep for the danger, awake for the money. As per frickin' usual," he said, uncrossing his arms and rubbing his fingers together to imitate money.
Groot growled at him
*ೃ༄
They walked into the seating area of the cafeteria, holding trays with food that relatively stunk. Her stomach churned just looking at it, and the thought of ingesting it was making her gag. They looked for an open table, and when they found one, walked over to it.
"If we're gonna get outta here, we're gonna need to get into that watchtower," Rocket said.
Crimson looked up at the large tower in the middle of the cafeteria that had a good view across the entire prison. Through the windows she could see a guard lounging against one of the control panels. She studied it, trying to find a way in. There was a door at the bottom that likely led to a set of stairs, but she could remember there being some sort of bridge that attached the tower to the many other balconies. That would most likely be the better choice in.
"And to do that, I'm gonna need a few things. The guards wear security bands to control their ins and outs, I need one," Rocket said.
"Leave it to me," stated Gamora, already searching for a target.
"That dude there. I need his prosthetic leg," Rocket said, his voice almost cracking at the end. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"You need... his leg?" Crimson asked doubtfully.
"Yeah. God knows I don't need the rest of him. Look at him, he's useless," he responded, gesturing to the already limping man.
"All right," Peter said, shrugging.
"And finally, on the wall back there is a black panel. Blinky yellow light," Rocket said as they all sat down at the table. "Do you see it?"
"Mhm," Crimson responded.
"There's a quarnyx battery behind it. Purplish box, green wires."
No one noticed Groot leaving the table.
"To get into that watchtower, I definitely need it," Rocket said.
"How are we supposed to get to it?" she asked, looking down at her food.
"Well supposably, these bald-bodies find her attractive," he said, gesturing to Gamora.
"That's ironic," Crimson said, looking out at them.
"Yeah. Maybe you can work out some sort of trade," he finished.
Gamora scoffed. "You must be joking."
"No, I really heard they find you attractive," he said.
"Look, it's 20 feet up in the air, and it's in the middle of the most heavily-guarded part of prison. It's impossible to get up there without being seen," Peter said, a bit annoyed.
"I got one plan and that plan requires a frickin' quarnyx battery, so figure it out!" Rocket said, now shouting.
Crimson sighed. "I got it, don't worry."
"Oh!" some guy behind them yelled, falling over as an object hit him in the head.
"Can I get back to it? Thanks. Now, this is important. Once the battery is removed, everything is gonna slam into emergency mode. Once we have it, we gotta move quickly, so you definitely need to get that last," Rocket said to her, pushing his food away.
Before she could to gesture that she understood, the lights turned off completely. Then alarms started. They all whipped around to see Groot, his legs uncannily extended, holding the quarnyx battery in his hand. He held it out to them, proud.
"Or we could just get it first and improvise," Rocket said, sighing.
"I'll get the armband," Gamora said, standing.
"Leg," said Quill, rushing off.
"I'll help take care of the guards," she said, glancing around.
Robotic guards flew it like drones, lights on, searching. They immediately surrounded Groot, still holding the battery.
"Prisoner, drop the device immediately and retreat to your cell, or we will open fire," the guard in the watchtower said.
She snorted.
Small branches along Groot's back grew, almost representing spikes. "I am Groot!," he yelled.
"Fire!" the guard shouted.
The robotic drones immediately began shooting at Groot, who yelled and smashed a few away with his arm, which was in perfect reach with the drones. The prisoners got down and scrambled, some taking cover, some racing to their rooms. Groot threw another punch at a drone, which completely flew across the room and smashed into the floor, bursting into flames.
"Finally, some damn action," Crimson muttered, following Rocket.
"All prisoners return to your sleeping areas," the guard said, watching the scene below him.
Rocket bound across the room, climbing up Groot and holding onto his shoulder. "You idiot! How am I supposed to fight these things without my stuff?"
Groot's arm grew out into a shield and covered Rocket, who sheltered behind it as one of the drones got closer and rained fire on them. He then used the shield to swat it away like a fly. More guards filed in, these ones human, carrying large guns practically the size of their entire torsos.
"The animal is in control. Fire on my command!" One of them shouted.
Drax pummeled through them before they could fire, laughing as he defeated them all. He used some of their own defenses against them, knocking them out with ease. He grabbed two of their guns.
"Creepy little beast!" he yelled to get Rocket's attention before throwing the gun to him. "Strange girl!" he shouted before throwing the gun to her.
Rocket caught the gun. "Oh, yeah."
He yelled before firing, blasting everything as Groot spun in a circle. She stayed below them, to their back as to not get shot herself. While she knew the gun would do minimal damage to her, it would still hurt like hell. She blasted everything in her way as well, yelling. They both laughed.
Meanwhile, Peter was debating with the prisoner with the prosthetic leg.
"You need my what?" he asked, bewildered.
Gamora sprinted across the balcony, dodging any bullets and heading straight for a guard. She fought them all easily, breezing through them like it was nothing. She took on two of them at once, kicking away their shield and throwing punches and kicks. She knocked one out, taking the other in a twist.
"I'll need this," she said cooly.
"Good luck," he grunted as he tried to wrestle out of her leg's grip. "It's internally wired."
"I'll figure something out."
She broke off his arm.
Peter ran through the hallway, carrying the leg with one arm.
"Drop the leg!" a guard shouted, holding a gun to fire at him. "Drop the leg and move back to the cell!"
Peter acted as if he was doing as he was told with great regret, before switching up and swinging the leg at the guard twice, once to knock the gun out of his grasp, and the other to knock him out.
He grabbed the blaster himself and began firing at the drones that approached him.
"Rocket!" Gamora yelled, as Rocket dropped the gun so he could catch the armband she was throwing at him. Crimson continued firing, watching their back as so no guards could sneak up on them.
"Move to the watchtower!" he yelled, pointing in the right direction.
They all slowly lumbered to the bridge that connected the balcony and the tower. Crimson continued firing. Rocket hummed as he worked, connecting the armband and battery to each other.
Gamora leaped from the balcony she was standing forward towards the bridge, landing with ease.
Groot's limbs slowly grew, connecting where she stood to the bridge with long branches. Rocket climbed up first, then her. Once she reached the top she continued firing, covering the two from any guards that tried to approach.
Once Peter caught up he climbed too, using small branches to grab ahold like the bars of a ladder.
A drone approached him, but before it could fire, Drax grabbed it from the sky, catching ahold and ripping it apart. "You!" Drax yelled. "Man who had lain with an A'askavariian!"
Crimson snickered.
"It was one time, man," Peter said with an annoyed groan as he continued climbing.
Drax climbed up as well.
"We need all available guards in full combat gear..." the guard started as an alarm began to blare. He turned around to the the group just as the doors began to open.
They walked in. Groot grabbed the man with extended limbs and threw him out before stepping inside himself.
Gamora turned around wildly to come face to face with Drax.
"Spare me your foul gaze, woman," he spat, seething.
"Why is this one here?" she asked, turning away.
"We promised him he could stay by your side until he kills your boss. I always keep my promises, when they're to muscle-bound whack-jobs who would kill me if i won't," he replied. "Here you go," Peter said, attempting to hand the leg to Rocket.
"Oh, I was just kidding about the leg," Rocket said, snickering. "I just need these two things."
"What?" Peter asked, his voice a higher pitch.
"No, I thought it would be funny," Rocket said, now laughing. "Was it funny? Oh wait, what did he look like hopping around?"
"I had to transfer him 30,000 units!" Peter yelled.
Rocket snickered, turning around and continuing to work on the panel in front of them.
"How are we going to leave?" Drax demanded.
The drone began to fire at the windows, the glass not yet breaking. She stood still, yet Peter flinched. She laughed at him.
"Well, he said he's got a plan," he said, gesturing to Rocket. "Right? Or is that another thing you made up?"
She glared at Peter. "He's the only one who can get us outta here. Don't piss him off. I mean, of course, if he really does have a plan."
"I have a plan! I have a plan!" Rocket said, continuing to press buttons across the panel.
"Cease your yammering and relieve us from this irksome confinement," Drax said, looking around.
"Yeah, I'll have to agree with the walking thesaurus on that one," Peter said, looking through the windows across the prison.
"Do not ever call me a thesaurus," Drax said sternly.
Peter sighed, "It's just a metaphor, dude."
"His people are completely literal. Metaphors are gonna go over his head," Rocket said, still working.
"Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too fast. I would catch it," Drax boasted.
"I tried to tell you earlier," Crimson said, pushing Peter lightly with her arm.
Gamora stared ahead. "I'm gonna die surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy."
The fully armored guards finally approached the tower, which the previous tower guard had called for earlier. She whispered a string of curses.
"Those are some big guns," Peter said, watching below.
The guards aimed towards the tower. The guns were practically cannons, and could most likely blow a hole through the prison with enough power.
"On my command!" One of them shouted.
She held her breath.
"Number one!" he shouted.
The guns fired. Cracks sprawled across the glass quickly.
"Rodent we are ready for your plan," Gamora demanded.
"Hold on!" he shouted, still pressing buttons across the panel.
"Number two!" the guard shouted again.
The guns fired once more, creating more cracks in the glass. She flinched.
"I recognize this animal. We'd roast them over a flame pit as children," Drax said, laughing a bit. "Their flesh was quite delicious."
Rocket turned around and yelled, "Not helping!"
"Number three!" the guard shouted.
The guns fired again. A piece of glass fell out of the window, a huge crack speeding across it.
"Oh, shit," she said.
"All fire on my command!" the guard shouted.
"Three!"
Rocket pulled a few wires.
"Two!"
The group held their breaths.
"One!"
Rocket plugged two wires into each other, pausing to look up.
The guards started floating. Rather, everything began floating. He had turned the gravity in the ship off. Except for their small room.
Gamora leaned over the control panels to watch beyond the glass. "He turned off the artificial gravity, everywhere but in here."
Crimson laughed a bit in wonderment.
She felt a rumbling below her feet as the ground got farther. The watchtower had disconnected from the base and began to fly like any normal ship. Rocket then gained control of all of the drones, making them fly up and attach to their makeshift ship as propellers. Using them, he flew the group down and out of the area.
"I told you I had a plan," he said, speeding them out. They broke through the door, knocking them off balance.
The ride was rocky, the larger "ship" bumping against a few walls on the way.
It crashed into a large door and stopped.
He closed the door behind them which led to the cafeteria by pressing a button.
"That was a pretty good plan," she admitted.
"Huh?" Rocket said with a smirk on his face, looking around for validation.
They broke the window, exiting the ship. Climbing out, the group found the boxes with their personal belongings, grabbing their clothes. Around the room were panels, and when pressed, would sort through boxes until it found yours. There were windows on one side of the room, displaying many other rooms with windows, containing prisoners’ weapons, ships, and other larger items that couldn’t be held in a box.
"Yeah. There it is, my ship," Peter said, pointing at a ship through the window. "The Milano, the orange and blue one in the corner."
"They crumpled my pants up in a ball. That's rude! They folded yours," Rocket spat, jumping down from the ledge and walking out of the room.
She watched as Peter found the box with his belongings, opening it and searching inside. Gamora walked over and peered over his shoulder.
"The Orb's there, lets go," she said, using her neck to gesture toward the next door.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Peter said, his tone panicking.
"What?" Gamora asked, frustrated.
"That bastard didn't put it back," he said, still searching.
"Put what back?" Crimson asked, then realizing she didn’t care, shook her head and left the room to follow Rocket.
"Here," he handed his bag to Gamora. "Get them to the ship. I will be right back."
”How are you gonna possibly-“ Gamora began to argue.
“Just keep the Milano close by. Go! Go!” Peter demanded, ending the conversation.
Gamora sighed and turned to leave.
Peter stepped through the doorway, which had opened as he stepped up, blasters in both hands and his mask covering his face. He shot at any guard which approached him, electrocuting them or knocking them out.
Meanwhile, Crimson, Groot, Drax, and Rocket had reached the ship, with Gamora close behind. They hopped on, Rocket taking the controls which he had quickly figured out, and broke out of the confinement. They now hovered outside, waiting.
”Well, how’s he gonna get to us?” Rocket asked, a bit of manic in his tone.
”He declined to share that information with me,” Gamora responded quickly.
“Well, that seems trustworthy,” Crimson remarked.
”Well, screw this then!” Rocket said. “I ain’t waiting around for some humie with a death wish. You got the Orb, right?” he asked, eyes shining. Most likely at the opportunity to gain more units.
“Yes,” Gamora responded, digging in Peter’s bag.
“Damn, you were really only worried about him before so you could collect that bounty,” Crimson remarked.
”Yeah, why the hell would I have cared?” he responded.
Gamora pulled out nothing. Crimson groaned.
Peter tossed the Orb in the air carelessly, walking down the hallways. He approached the gate where the impound worker sat, listening to music on the walkman. He used the Orb to knock him out, smacking it against his head with a deafening clang.
Back on the ship, the group argued about what to do.
”If we don’t leave now, we will be blown to bits,” Rocket stated.
”No!” Gamora yelled. “We’re not leaving without the Orb.”
”Is it even really worth the money anymore?” Crimson mumbled, sighing and looking out across the vast galaxy.
She noticed something. A flying object of some sort, propelling toward them at a quick speed.
Peter Quill.
”Behold,” Drax said.
Once arriving on the ship, Peter clicked the side of his face to remove his mask.
“This one shows spirit,” Drax said, helping pull Quill in. “He shall make a keen ally in the battle against Ronan. Companion, what were you retrieving?”
Peter handed him a small box which had previously been connected to the strange hat that covered the man’s ears.
Gamora sighed.
“You’re an imbecile,” Drax said.
”What even is that strange hat?” Crimson asked Peter.
”What?” Peter asked.
She gestured towards the small box and hat.
”My walkman? Music?” he offered, as if that would help. The tone in his voice suggested he thought she was an idiot.
She returned him with a blank stare, still not understanding, then turned back around.