2014.03.18 - The Raccoon, The Mind-Witch And The Warlock

Knowhere canteen is surprisingly seedy for what looks like a shinny, cosmopolitan space station. But it takes all kinds, and some traders (and mercenaries, and pilots, and wanderers) feel more at home here. It is rarely boring, because only in Knowhere one can purchase the right kind of drink to get buzzed, even when the buyer is a space god, or even an energy being.
Which means Adam comes here... about never. Except today. The dark-clad golden-skinned wizard came all the way down to the canteen because Cosmo told him a certain short, heavily armed person was in the space station. It was up to Adam figuring out where to find him.
 
For her part, Rachel Summers doesn't hold Adam's disdain for the place. She's not spent much time hanging around on Knowhere, but even she can see this isn't one of the station's more salubrious locales, even if she hasn't had time to scout out the better ones yet. However, she's been wanting to try more of the Kree/Shi'ar food that Phyla-Vell introduced her to ever since her last visit, so while she didn't object to tagging along with Adam on this trip, she perked up noticeably when she realised where they were going.
She peeled off from his side when they entered, and can be found a short distance away, attempting to order some more of what she had last time. There are extensive hand signals involved. It may not be going well.
It's a wretched hive of scum and villany. And Rocket Raccoon loves the place like a second home. While his short stature might make him hard to find in this crowd normal... not so much when he's standing on the bar in a casual looking uniform and entertaining the locals with tales of his exploits in the so-called 'Annihilation Wave'. Of course, given his appearance some arn't sure whether he's telling the truth or insane.
".... "And he's all like... oh, it's just a little raccon.... And then BLAM... SPLAT!" ROcket finishes this leg of the story, punctuating it by whirling with both blasters pulled from his holsters. "Barkeep, Another!" Rocket calls as there's a mixture of wild drunken revelry for the story, mixed with murmurs of disbelief.
It is funny how veteran alien travelers usually fail to take Rocket seriously. They should know better than judge other aliens by their size, right? "It is all true, I was there," mentions Adam, his quiet voice nevertheless reaching all of Rocket's audience. "Greetings, Rocket," he says to the raccoon, "I knew I would find you here, have you found amusement in Knowhere?"
 
Against the odds, Rachel has managed to acquire a bowl of... something. She might not be able to readily identify it, but it seems to be edible. Looking around, she finds Adam heading determinedly toward the center of the commotion in the place, and smirks a bit to herself. She might not know him that well yet, but somehow she's not surprised.
Wending her way back through the other patrons to Adam's side, she takes another bite of whatever she's managed to procure, and remarks indistinctly to him. "It's good, this. No idea what it is, but..." And then she finally gets a look at the small(ish) figure occupying the epicenter of the revelry. Rachel swallows. "Is that..." A talking raccoon standing on the table and drinking... whatever they drink here. She nearly asks, but manages not to. "Right. It is. And you know him? Of course you do." Just when she thought she was starting to get a handle on the weirdness. "Hi." She offers, on the tail end of Adam's greeting, waving with her fork.
Even if the various aliens don't know what the flark a raccoon is... there's still the cute and fuzzy stereotype that makes it hard for some. Especially when what Rocket's tell is some pretty wild tales. Rocket turns from taking his drink from the barkeep... lifting it in salute to Adam Warlock. "Adam Warlock... didn't expect to find you slumming with the masses. Barkeep, a drink for my pal!" Rocket hops down from the bar onto one of the stools and takes a seat, taking a hearty hit from his drink. Rocket's ears perk up just a little bit at Rachel's voice, as he hasn't had the pleasure of meeting her yet. "And 'Hi' to you too." Rocket smiles and then leans back to look at the barkeep. "Make that two, one for Goldie's pretty young friend."
"I do not do slumming, I came looking for you," clarifies Adam, finding a seat at the table. "Rachel Summers of Earth, this is Rocket, from the Keystone Quadrant, the Kree consider him one of the finest tacticians and weapon experts currently alive." He lets Rachel digest that for a few seconds, "Rocket, a seer told me I should seek you out. I am traveling to Sector 666 soon, will you come with me?"
It is funny how the words 'sector 666' can suddenly empty a table in any canteen of the universe. Rocket just lost all his audience, some of them looked positively pale. Or their equivalent in their species.
 
He might be a talking raccoon, but he's friendly and he's just bought her a drink. She gives a mental shrug and decides to just go with it. It's better than spending every visit to Knowhere staring with her mouth hanging open, after all. She snorts quietly in amusement as Adam clarifies the situation. He sounds a little too prim, to her ears. Sliding into her own seat, she sets down her rapidly diminishing bowl and spears another lump of something undefinable with her fork as the introductions are done.
"I guess the Kree would know." Rachel says, slightly faintly, but doing a reasonable job of keeping her composure under the circumstances. Admittedly she knows a total of one half-Kree, but she's trying to fit in, here. She grins at Rocket. "Good to meet you. I'm just a stray he picked up. I'm getting the impression he does that." She glances over at Adam as he announces his intentions, popping her next morsel in her mouth as a faintly raised eyebrow asks if she's coming, too.
If Rocket's ears perked at Rachel's voice... they perk even more at the mention of Earth. "Stray Earthling, huh? Someone's far from home. Pleasure to meet you, Rachel." Rocket holds out his small furry hand to Rachel, offering it to her to shake. "I'm something of a connoisseur of your planet. Some of the best entertainment in the Universe. Well... from what you can find in this backwater dump. Have you seen Beaches?" Rocket wonders as their drinks are delivered to the table. And Rocket flips a few coins to the waitress. "Thanks Sugar."
Rocket nods just a bit to Adam's quick file card recap of him. "Considering what the Kree think of L.L.F.s, that's pretty glowing praise." Rocket's brows furrow just a bit though when Adam fills him in on what he was looking for him about. "Sector 666, eh?" Rocket rubs his fuzzy little chin. "Certainty of death. Small chance of success." He pauses for a few moments mulling it over. "Sounds like fun."
"I wouldn't know," replies Adam. "Sector 666 has been virtually empty of sentient beings for billions of years. Since the Oans lost control of their robot army." But the Manhunters were destroyed long ago, right? Still, Sector 666 creeps out people from all species, as if there was something unhealthy there. "There are intense space-time anomalies there, we will go to the Sarc system first." 'We' seems to include Rachel, yes.
 
Rachel doesn't hesitate to reach out and shake the offered hand. "Tell me about it." She agrees, then looks surprised and intrigued when Rocket mentions his particular interest in her part of the galaxy. She thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. "You should probably talk to my roommate. All my DVDs I stole from her." She smirks a bit conspiratorially. "If there's anything you want me to bring next time Adam drags me out here, let me know." Explaining this to Kitty is going to be /so/ easy...
As the drinks arrive, Rachel picks up her glass and looks at it a bit suspiciously, keeping quiet while Adam and Rocket discuss things she knows nothing about. After the quick lesson, she's almost regretting the silent question to Adam about whether she was coming. Almost. But she's not about to back out now. "Can't wait." She says, a bit ruefully.
Rocket finishes his latest drink, offering a light nod to Adam in regard to the information. "So hope for the worst and expect it. I'll grab some appropriate gear from my arsenal." Rocket runs a hand through the fur atop of his head, before looking over to Rachel. "Bette Midler is an amazing actress. You have to check it out sometime. Once I get some downtime I should pay your planet a visit anyway." Rocket hums a few bars of 'Wind Beneath My Wings' as he runs a single clawed finger around the rim of his glass. "Don't worry Rachel, you'll have tons of fun with us. Plus if it gets really boring we can always place bets on who can get Adam here to smile first."
Adam doesn't bother to answer Rocket's comment immediately, instead he sips from his dink. Maybe because it has been too long since anything made him smile. "See? If this trip gets boring, perhaps it will give me a reason to smile," he decides bleakly. "I'll arrange for you to have a Passport unit ready for you next cycle, Rocket. Feel free to use it to visit Earth. I am also spending most of my time there."
 
Rocket has an arsenal. Naturally. And then he's talking about Bette Midler without even blinking. "I'll dig it out." Rachel finds herself saying. "Look me up when you're in the neighborhood." She grins as Rocket hums along to the song, that much she recognises at least. She takes a sip of her drink, and nothing terrible happens. "Somehow I'm getting that feeling." Laughing and shaking her head, she looks over at Adam and tilts her head to one side, as if scrutinising him. "I'm not sure I want to take that bet. How long have you been trying?" She means it as a joke, but Adam's words are ominous.
"Thanks Adam. I would have asked our 'Head of Security' to prepare one for me... but he creeps me the flark out." There's even a bit of visible frizzing to the fur along his tail to indicate he's not joking. A little brow perks though at Adam when he mentions he's been spending most of his time on Earth. "So that's what it is. You seemed a lot more chipper than usual." Rocket grins playfully as he looks over at Rachel. "Honestly... I've lost track."
"Your interest in keeping me amused is touching, Rocket," comments Adam, standing up. "I assure you I am satisfied as I am. I have my quest, my purpose. Every sentient should have one. Inner peace will soon follow, I am sure. But now I have to take my leave. Farewell."
 
Rachel smirks. "Definitely not taking that bet." She says, though she doesn't sound entirely serious. She might be about to say more, but Adam's already getting up. "Guess I was finished anyway." She says, knocking back the rest of her drink and standing up as well. As Adam steps away, she looks back at Rocket. "I don't know about inner peace. I think I'll stick with fun." She tells him with a quick grin. "See you around, Rocket."
"I suppose I should call it an early evening myself... get my gear prepared for our mission." Rocket hops down from the stool to leave as well. Which gives Rachel a really good look at just how short he is compared to most of the beings here, including Adam and herself. "You know where to find me when you're ready to go." Rocket takes a few steps and then kicks off with a blast from his rocket boots, flying out of the bar and down the corridor to the living quarters. 'Rocket Raccoon' takes on a whole new meaning now.
Category:Log