[ It's all shit, Nebula thinks but does not say. Stiffens only at the idea this is worse shit. They're trapped on this stupid planet in this shitty village, but it's a boring mundane life. Mostly. Except for that - for those years that weren't years but sure as hell feel like it. At least in certain ways, it feels like a skin they've shed or a shirt that didn't quite fit right. ]
[ It wasn't real, but it was also real. ]
[ There's something more to it though - there must be - because she knows her. She knows him, because there was always one commonality they shared: two beings who'd been taken apart and put back together again and again. She would rather live through those 800 years then spend another day under her Father's thumb. And knowing more intimately than she had before - then she should know - of the scientific words they wrote and spoke of him... She'd think it would be the same. ]
[ Or perhaps because it wasn't real, because she never had that freedom, it felt like being taken apart and put back together all over again. Stuck in the same way she'd always been. She doesn't think about it, because this isn't about her. It's about Rocket.]
[ She swallows, hard, because something swallows her. The feeling she might be losing him and not know how to help or pull him back. It's funny really, if she could find such a thing funny, and instead she asks in that clipped way that bars real emotion: ]
no subject
[ It wasn't real, but it was also real. ]
[ There's something more to it though - there must be - because she knows her. She knows him, because there was always one commonality they shared: two beings who'd been taken apart and put back together again and again. She would rather live through those 800 years then spend another day under her Father's thumb. And knowing more intimately than she had before - then she should know - of the scientific words they wrote and spoke of him... She'd think it would be the same. ]
[ Or perhaps because it wasn't real, because she never had that freedom, it felt like being taken apart and put back together all over again. Stuck in the same way she'd always been. She doesn't think about it, because this isn't about her. It's about Rocket.]
[ She swallows, hard, because something swallows her. The feeling she might be losing him and not know how to help or pull him back. It's funny really, if she could find such a thing funny, and instead she asks in that clipped way that bars real emotion: ]
Then what do you plan to do?
[ What can you do? ]