❛Wait─ are we the good guys now?❜
Naverrie was the last of her kind, for all she knew. Sold as an item to stare at, a relict of a lost civilization, was no fun. Thankfully, that was when Yondu Udonta freed her and gave her a chance to become a Ravag...
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When the drones lined up in front of the watchtower, Nave gulped as she shifted her weight from one leg to another. Rocket was up on the control panel and was clicking random buttons at the speed of light, as it seemed, with the device made out of the guard's handband at the ready to use somewhere. He even pulled out some wires from the inside to attach it to it.
Naverrie looked up when she felt a presence behind her, only to realize that Drax was inside with them as well. She raised her eyebrows, slightly suprised, but she switched her gaze to Gamora in case to see her reaction. She noticed him just now as well and frowned with annoyance.
"Spare me your foul gaze, woman," Drax growled.
Gamora glared at Quill. "Why is this one here?"
"I promised him he could stay by your side until he kills your boss," he said carelessly. "I always keep my promises, when they're to muscle-bound whack-jobs who will kill me if I don't." He put the prosthetic leg down on the control panel next to Rocket. "Here you go."
"I was just kidding about the leg. I just need these two things," Rocket exclaimed.
"What?" Quill quizzed and gave him a nasty look.
"No, I thought it'd be funny." Rocket turned to him with a smirk on his face, pausing whatever he was doing. "Was it funny? Wait, what did he look like hopping around?" He laughed at the thought of it, but no one but him reacted.
"I had to transfer him 30,000 units!"
"How are we going to leave?" Gamora asked impatiently.
"Well, he's got a plan. Right? Or is that another thing you made up?" Quill questioned stressedly.
"I have a plan! I have a plan!"
Rocket went back to what he was doing, assuring them that he's got things under control.
"Cease your yammering and relieve us from this irksome confinement," Drax said. Nave frowned and raised a brow at him. That was a very unusual choice of words, especially for a criminal. Naverrie herself was never met with a language complicated like this.
