Endgame {Avengers: Infinity War}

the rubber man

"HEY Y'ALL PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE RUBBER MAN -- sing it Drax!"

Cheerful music filled Peter Quill's prized spaceship, the Milano, as he sang and gestured wildly from his seat as if he were performing a concert for his fellow Guardians of the Galaxy -- not that any of them were truly paying attention to him. As a matter of fact, Drax, an enormous, bulky grey man with red tribal tattoos inked into his skin, merely let out an enormous snore in his sleep as he shifted in his seat, oblivious to Peter's so called singing.

"You're bound to lose control when the rubber man starts to jam," Gamora bobbed her head so subtly to the music, mouthing the words discreetly as she sang along only to catch the shit eating grin she was receiving from a girl and quickly snap her mouth shut.

"RUBBER BAND -- RUBBER BAND MAN!" Smirking widely, a young woman sitting in a seat nearby Gamora began to dance to the music, waving her hands in the air as she ignored the anger that filled Gamora's face as she realized that she had been caught singing along.

"No -- no!" Peter interjected loudly from his pilot's seat. "Blaise, you're out of tune!"

Blaise, the same girl who had caught Gamora humming along to the song, arched her neck back so that she could fix Peter with a glare. She was absolutely beautiful, with hazel eyes that pierced Peter, dark hair which cascaded down her shoulders as if it were a waterfall, and features that were so angelic they seemed to positively radiate beauty. However, most noticeable of all was her skin, flawlessly smooth in a creamy milk chocolate tone yet shimmering in patches scattered across her features were strange golden flecks.

"Sure," Blaise rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest, which had the same golden spots the rest of her body had. "You're just jealous that I'm a better singer than you."

"What?" Peter's eyebrows shot up. "No, I am not!"

"Admit it, Quill," it was Rocket who spoke next, his fur ruffled as he yawned from his own seat. "Your singing makes me want to stab myself with Yondu's arrow. Hers is much better -- I still hate you though," he added unkindly as Blaise brightened up.

"Screw you too," retorted Blaise, mumbling under her breath. "Stupid raccoon."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," said Blaise sweetly, giving Rocket an innocent bat of her eyelashes before continuing quietly. "Trash panda."

"Yeah? Well -- this trash panda," Rocket snapped, glaring heatedly down at Blaise. "Helped save your stupid golden ass from the Sovereign before they had the chance to blast you into a million pieces -- wait... why did we even bother saving her again? All she's ever done is prove Quill can't sing or dance for his life."

"Hey!" Peter exclaimed loudly. "I had a dance off to save the Universe! She didn't!"

"So she's even more useless?" Rocket rolled his eyes. "Now I really don't know why we bothered going through all that trouble to get her and Nebula."