abraxaslogs | catch-all — take a sad song and make it better ;

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catch-all — take a sad song and make it better ;

Who: rocket and you
When: post-august event
Where: solvunn settlements, the horizon
What: a day in the life (and also building his horizon)
Warnings: none so far but will warn if they come up!

my schemes are just like all my dreams — solvunn ;

[ It's just another day in the commune, and in his newly mended and much better fitting robes (with pockets!), Rocket makes the rounds. Not that he makes a point of it at all, or says anything, or even thinks about it but he's taken to helping the locals whenever he sees an opportunity: mostly simple stuff like mending fences and roofs, fixing up tools, and then there's the odd wrangling of a goat.

Because, yeah. After his confrontation with some weird too-many-armed creature in defense of the goats, he's been keeping an eye on them a little. Every now and again. Just because.

Throughout the day(s) he can be found:

i) Mending said fences, just knee-deep in manual labour and looking surprisingly content while doing it. It's not just busy work (even thought it kinda is) but there's a surprising kind of productive feeling to the act. Maybe even something like ... fulfillment. But like hell is he ever gonna admit such a thing. Gross.

ii) Later, he might be found at one of the nearby little drinking holes, taking a local up on their offer for a free meal for helping them with a task (this time it was fixing a roof). If he recognizes you, he'll nod his head, which is essentially your cue to join him if you want. ]

Eh. Anything you want, it's on me. They owe me like twenty more of these things just today.

[ iii) And finally, at the end of the day Rocket will be making his way back to the treehouse near the Black Eye Lakes. He pauses as the sun sets to lift his head towards the bright orange skies and watch them for just a little bit.

To no one in particular (though clearly within earshot of you): ]

Well, I guess it's not all bad here.

here am i floating 'round my tin can — the horizon ;

[ Rocket's experience with the Horizon is still a little new and will take a little practice, but following his last visit there with Vash, in which there had been a lot of empty barren land and not much else, he decides that it's finally time to get to work on his own space.

He doesn't take up a whole lot of that space because being ruler of a planet or a kingdom or even grounded land has never been Rocket's ambition. Instead, it's a metal platform that he's currently working on, which stands beneath a system of control panels and steering systems that have already been installed, lights glowing through the motherboard. It looks like it's the kind of thing that will take a hell of a lot of work, and it'll be slow in its progress, but it's precise and it's exactly the way that Rocket wants it.

It's the starts of a spaceship. ]

Yeah. [ He makes a sweeping gesture with his free claw, while the other readjusts his goggles. There's a small shiny little symbol to signify the Chariot emblazoned on the side.

He points to the box of tools to the side, perfectly sized to him and looking already worn and well-loved. ] Yeah, that thing. Can you pass it over?

and oh, it's never quite as it seems — wildcard ;

[ feel free to leave your own starter below in any such fashion you wish if the above don't quite work for you! i'm down to party with anything and reach out to me via plurk/PM/discord to hash out any details! ]

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[ She thinks this is a great idea, honestly. How often as she come to after dozing off in this form to little birds nesting in her boughs?

Though she can't see as she normally can, the impressions of the aether of Rocket and the spriggans are visible in her mind's eye--loose outlines, colorful blobs against the background of earth and air. His expression makes her leaves rustle with a silent laugh. She can't speak either, or at least hasn't figure out how to yet, but a light sway of one particular bough side to side is the best she can do to be like the shaking of her head.

Strangely enough, one of the more timid spriggans makes the same motion... ]

[ Well, that's something.

He watches Himeka-tree, and then he takes note of the first little spriggan, and then another ...

It's not a guarantee that this'll work, but if it gets them feeling a little comfortable, at least they'll have an easier time of convincing them that they're the good guys, right? ]

Hey ... uh — keep wiggling your branches, let them follow you.

[ Groot loved moving his branches around too; he loved dancing. If Rocket had a working zune or something, he's sure this would be a whole lot easier. Alas. ]

[ Wiggling her branches has become fairly easy with time. At first, moving at all was painful as the water she drank kept her limbs turgid and strong. But slowly with will and intent, she learned how to gently shift to a better position to shield someone looking for a place to nap in the afternoon, or to accommodate a larger family of forest friends wanting to settle amongst her ever-blooming flowers.

This, too, she can do for the spriggans.

So wiggle she does, shimming the long tendrils of hanging flowers to-and-fro. A few more of the spriggans mimic the motion and it isn't long before all of them are just.

Well.

Headbanging? Kind of. Gently.

She shifts a bit to twist her trunk towards Rocket. "Let them follow you", he'd said, but her roots were already firmly in the ground, ever going deeper to seek more and more water. But if she learned how to move her boughs, then surely...

Himeka concentrates hard, and there's a long moment where nothing happens. But bit by bit, one of her larger roots starts to pull up and out of the ground and moves toward Rocket. ]

Whoa!

[ This is truly an afternoon for surprises. More and more of the spriggans emerge from their hiding place, following the rest of their kind like they've suddenly arrived at a leaf-shaking party. Rocket looks (and feels) a little bit out of place, but he's honestly too entranced by the events before him to let that bug him.

And then, slowly but surely, the very much grounded tree that is Himeka begins to pull up her roots like legs, shifting towards his direction. Not so far behind is a spriggan or two or three. They're curious but much more comfortable now, and it shows in their loose movements.

Rocket can't help it — he laughs. It sounds a little bit like delight. ]

This is a hell of a lot cooler than cookies.

[ A lot cooler but less tasty, she'll give it that. And infinitely more exhausting though she isn't one to complain. Each tentative "step" takes longer than she'd like, uncertain as she is with her center of balance and with so many little "feet" to control as well.

But the spriggans, at least, don't seem to mind. They move forward, a few even moving up along side Rocket since that's where they seem to be heading.

The bravest, in its wisdom, recognizes that Rocket is unable to shake his foliage. So instead it reaches out to take his hand. Friend? ]

[ This is it, isn't it?

This is how they move the little cluster of creatures from here to the Abandoned Settlement. Sure, it's no dumping them all into a sack, but ... it's ... nicer, somehow. It feels more like something a good Guardian of the Galaxy would do, and he can't help but think that Himeka's pretty genius idea is to thank for it.

Rocket makes a start for the wagon because a whole trek from here to the Abandoned Settlement might be too long for Himeka to walk towards with her newfound skill, and he'd rather get the whole gang together. But before he can gain more than a single stride, he notes one of the spriggans having approached him, lifting its hand to take his.

He glances between the large red tree and then back to the little creature, and quietly accepts.

Sure. Yeah. Friend.

Don't say anything later, Himeka. ]

[ Himeka can't say anything right now, at least, because she's a tree. But don't pretend that she doesn't "see" that--the way the blob she knows as Rocket melds with one of the blobs of the spriggans makes her soul smile.

She knew he had it in him. He's a much kinder soul than he likes to let on.

But he's right, Himeka can only go so fast and each step she takes starts to be a little more laborious. Who knew trees shouldn't be able to walk? Or at least her kind of tree.

The spriggans are making good pace and it's not long before they over take both Himeka and Rocket--are they now the ones leading? To the wagon, maybe? ]

[ To the wagon, it seems to be.

They make good progress, the cluster of spriggans moving towards the wagon without seeming to care whether or not Rocket and Himeka are following. Or maybe it's that they know that they will.

Eventually, even the spriggan linking hands with Rocket lets go to hop up and join its brethren. One of them also nudges at what looks like the abandoned sack of cookies after Plan A failed to work. Maybe there's still hope for that scheme yet.

Rocket turns back to glance at Himeka and slows his pace to match her slower one. The spriggans are locked in; he's no longer worried about whether they'll get 'em all together in one place. They've all gathered into the wagon voluntarily. ]

Pretty freakin' cool that you could do that. [ He hasn't shared a whole lot about himself so far, but now he offers something up. ] I have a friend back home, his name's Groot. He's also kind of a big walking and talking tree.

[ It's slow going, but she can sense the movement around her. The little lights of the spriggans are no longer quivering in uncertainty, but something warm and alive. There's trust in that and she has to wonder if that's what Y'shtola sees in the fondness of aether from her companions. How easy it would be to lose yourself in that...

She hears Rocket, realizing he's kept pace by her side. If she could breath normally, she's sure she would sound exhausted, but she wants to see this through. His words take longer than usual to translate--she doesn't have horns to echo sound like normal, but they do reach her understanding eventually.

She's surprised to hear that walking and talking trees are just, you know, something he is used to? She's seen the walking ones in the Shroud, but talking? Her long tendrils of flowers shake in that shock--oh, a friend, even? One branch waves slowly like a hand for him to tell more. ]

[ Rocket gets the cue, and continues.

He's got no intentions on leaving her side, even as he takes on the task of pushing the wagon. With the extra weight of the creatures, it's a ... more challenging job, but it's not impossible. And Rocket, despite his shorter frame, is a lot stronger than he looks. He's gotta be, carrying the weight of heavy machine guns on a regular basis. ]

Yeah. [ He goes on. Somehow it feels ... easier to keep going when there isn't any feedback to make him think this is stupid and he should just keep it all to himself again. ] For a long time it was just the two of us. We had no one else, and that was fine. It meant that we never had to share any of the profits we made beyond the 50-50 split between us.

[ A light shrug. ]

But when he regrew, he had a whole new family to take care of him and that was kinda nice too.

[ The upside about being a large tree is that she's much sturdier than she normally is, so she tries to use her newfound bulk to assist in nudging it forward. It may not be the easiest way to do things, but she doesn't mind if it makes the spriggans feel more at ease.

'A whole new family' does make her perk her head--or what could be assumed is her head. Rocket isn't the most touchy-feely of their little gang but she's found he shows appreciation in other ways, including back-handed compliments. This definitely seems like it fits the bill.

Her flowers rustle gently like she's chuckling a bit, but he's saved from any commentary.

With one branch she motions to Rocket and then to herself. Hopefully this family here in Solvunn is also "kinda nice" sometimes? ]

[ Rocket huffs a breath, rolling his eyes.

But like, endearingly so. ]

Yeah, I guess you guys aren't so bad either.

[ Please — at this point, any of the Treehouse can reliably bank on Rocket wiping out a whole ass army if some harm were to come to any of them. Murder is Rocket's love language. ]

[ That is certainly the highest compliment! Trees don't have faces, but Rocket can probably feel the smile in the joyful rustle of her branches. She had figured has much that they managed to wiggle their way into his heart, but having the confirmation is nice.

This is something that she won't forget.

She spares him the silent questions for the rest of their journey. By the time they get to the abandoned village where the spriggans call their home, she's downright exhausted. Planting her roots for a while may be nice...

She points one heavy branch to the ground, then to herself. Would he like to stay a while? ]

[ Oh, he certainly can, and he brushes off the gushy sentiment from the tree with a sweep of his paw, as if to say, 'Forget it — no really'.

Even if his mouth twitches a little.

But like, it's barely noticeable.

Indeed, it's tough work getting the spriggans back to their home, wrangling the group of them out and off the wagon and back to where they belong, but he feels ... like they did a pretty good job. It's nice to see them back with their own kind, and in their familiar habitats.

Anyway, this reward better be freakin' worth it. ]

Huh? [ His attention goes back to Himeka-tree, and he catches the gist of what she means with the gestures and leaf-rustling. ] Oh — yeah. Why not?

[ Wagon now emptied and the day coming to a close, Rocket settles down next to the tree, his dark ringed tail flicking behind him. ]

So, when you're ready to turn back into a person again, is it gonna be easy?

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catch-all — take a sad song and make it better ;

<3<3<3

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feel free to ignore this if it's too old!!

you're good fam! no raccoon left behind

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