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▎ MOONDUST ▎
»»————- gogt vol one. the guardians
CHAPTER SEVEN ━━ partners
. ᵒ .༄ ࿐ ࿔* 🪐🚀🔥
♯ ❝THAT'S DISGUSTING! ❞
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MIDAS LIKED TO THINK SHE WAS BETTER OF WITH THIS strange bunch of intergalectic idiots than the prisoners still stuck in Klyn, but as time moved on and things started to get more out of hand by the second she was seriously reconsidering her choices
Her eyes were glued to the racoon pulling apart peter's ship as he happily tinkered away on the ground, his companion, the tree Groot was sitting on a bench watching his friend in amazement which in turn braught a small smile to her face.
She rested her head in the palm of her hand as Rocket started humming and unfamilair tune, causally pulling more wires out of the ship and tinkering with machine parts scattered around him. Suddenly, Rocket turned around, his eyes roaming the ship until they landed on something particular beside Midas.
Following his gaze just a he reached for whatever it was, she noticed her own creation on a small table beside her, but beforr he could even touch her staff she slapped his hand away. "Paws off." She narrowed her eyes, giving the rodent a deatg glare.
"Alright!" He drawled out, backing away before dropping down next to his own work again as he begrudgingly looked through a panel he opened for something else to use.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You Ranger Rick! What are you doing? You can't take apart my ship without asking me!" Peter exclaimed loudly, but Rocket ignored him and continued to fiddle with the parts he found, completely ignoring the owner of the ship.
"What is this?" Peter inquired, leaning down to casually pick up whatever random object Rocket had created.
"Don't touch that. It's a bomb." Rocket spoke up in a monotone voice without looking away from the metal object he was tinkering with.
"A bomb!" his eyes were wide and Midas tilted her head to get better look at it.
"Yup."
"And you leave it lying around?!"
"I was gonna put it in a box!" Rocket defended, opening a drawer to reveal said box laying around
"What's a box gonna do?" Peter cried out in disbelief.
"What about this one? "Rocket wondered, pulling a beautiful and colorful wrapped gift tied with a ribbon from another drawer
Midas watched as Peter whole demeanor changed upon seeing it and immediately became defensive of the object as he quickly kicked the bigger box back in the drawer, out of Rocket's reach. "Hey leave it alone!"
"Why? What is it?" Rocket pressed.
"Shut up." Quill demanded before sighing, giving up on talking sense in the talking rodent.
Midas glanced at her leather jacket and she thought about the way she acted as people asked her about it or tried to take it away from her. It was the same way Peter reacted about the small wrapped up gift. She shook her head to clear herself from the incoming sad memories and focused back on Rocket and Peter
"What is that?" Peter pointed to another strange looking device the racoon had created before he started to work on his second project.
"That is for if things get really hardcore!" Rocket explained excitedly, looking up at Peter pointing his screwdriver at the man. "Or if you wanna blow up moons." He added happily, excitement laced in his voice.
"No one's blowing up moons." Gamora announced from where she was leaning against a wall observing the on going disaster.
"I agree on that one." Midas nodded, giving the weapon-crazy raccoon a look. "I rather we not become the most wanted people of the galaxy."
"You just wanna suck the joy out of everything." Rocket muttered bitterly.
With a sigh Midas stood up from her seat and slung her leather jacket over her shoulder as she approached the table with the orb on it, a look of child-like wonder on her face as she stared at the beautiful engravings.
"So, listen I'm gonna need your buyer's coordinates." Peter stated, handing Gamora the orb.
She didn't reply first as she inspected the orb in her hand before she glanced at the two terra's in front of her, clearly distrustful of their intentions. "We're heading in the right direction. For now." Was all she gave away
"If we're gonna work together, you might try trusting me a little bit." Peter told her, obviously displeased with her vague answer.
"And how much do you trust me?" She countered as Quill approached her and plucked the orb out of her hand again. "I trust you a lot more if you told me what this was?"
"Why should we even trust you?" Midas interrupted him and gave him a weary look, crossing her arms. "You tricked us with the orb back at Klyn." She raised an eyebrow.
Quill fumbled with the orb for a second, before deciding on ignoring her question and he turned his attention back to Gamora. "I'm guessing it's some kind of weapon." He stated, placing the orb back on the table.
"I don't know what it is." Gamora replied, leaning on the table as Drax snatched it up. "If it's a weapon we should use it against Ronan."
"Put it down you fool, you kill us all." Gamora raised her voice.
"Or just you, murderess." He shouted in return as Gamora stepped closer to him.
"I let you live once princess." She growled in his face.
"I am not a princess!"
"Hey!" Quill interrupted to fight. "Nobody is killing anybody on my ship!" He shouted, before lowering his voice slightly. "We're stuck together until we get the money."
"I have no interested in money." Drax told him, throwing the orb back at Peter with a huff.
"Great." Midas grinned "That means more money for the four of us." A noise beside her caught her attention and she saw Groot give her a look.
"Five of us." She corrected. "Partners." Midas shrugged.
"We have an agreement, but I would never be partner with the likes of you all. I'll tell the buyer we're on our way." Gamora was about to walk away, but she turned her head around to look at Peter." And Quill, your ship is filthy."
Peter grinned until she was out of sight before turning to his new travel companions "She has no idea. If I had a black light, the place would look like a Jackson Pollock painting."
Midas scrunched her face up in disgust, clearly understandig that refernece. "That's disgusting."
"You have issues Quill." Rocket finished with a shake of his head.
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