abraxaslogs | (no subject)

[ Nebula doesn't roll her eyes, but she does move past him to snatch up the dagger. Wiping it on her pants she moves to resheathe it with a snort as an answer. 'You're welcome,' or something like that. ]

If you're talking about this -

[ She shrugs towards the arm that's still slightly bloody and loosely bandage - ] It doesn't hurt. And I'm not about to break down from a tiny bite.

[ Maybe. Maybe, Nebula, you just don't feel it because everything else is in pain??? She shakes her head as she thrusts the spear back in the ground and moves to sit again - ]

For people who don't know what they're doing. [ She doesn't say "like you," but it's there as she snatches up the half eaten lizard meat once more, ] survival training was one of the first things I was taught.

[Chris looks at her and then looks to the bandage, getting this real puzzled look on his face. He follows her and sits down opposite, looking around again just in case there was another animal on it's way to kill him. ]

No, that's definitely not what I'm feeling. It's constant, it's widespread. Are you sure whatever bit you wasn't poisonous or something?

[He doesn't want to make assumptions, because she's a blue alien, but, maybe, just maybe it has something to do with the random computer bits all over her. Just a thought. Then again, maybe that was normal for her species?]

Survival training like wilderness training? [He eyes the lizard meat and honestly can't imagine being that hungry. Okay sure he was hungry, orbing really took it out of you. But it was lizard. ]

[ The only one who might kill you here, Chris, is Nebula. At least currently as she chews down into her bit of food brows narrowed. ]

What you're feeling?

[ It's a questioning demand. Her shoulders tensing when she'd been just a few moments from tossing him a skewer - ]

Part of it, but no. I mean survival training and all it entails.

Uh.....

[Abort, abort mission! An incredibly shady, incredibly guilty expression passed over Chris's face. Watching her, he decided to do what he did best. Just not answer the question.]

You sure you should be eating that? How do you know that's even edible? And don't tell me survival training.

[Chris meanwhile, is also kind of tense, wiry, like he might leap up the moment Nebula moves. Cornered. He looks cornered.]

[ She scowls at him as she chews. There's something strange about how he holds himself - she wonders if that's how she looks when caught in a lie. When she tries to lie anyway, which is rarely even now. ]

It's not poisoned. [ She cuts through, leaving no room for disagreement as she adds: ] And I don't waste food.

[ The way she says it indicates a more intimate meaning. That she knows what it means to not have food, to be starved to delirium. It didn't matter that if it was disgusting - something that hadn't been a thought - as she chews down and asks again: ] What did you mean it's not what you felt?

[Chris almost answered with 'but that's not food, that's a potion ingredient', before he thought better of it and shut his mouth. Because really, it had just gotten him into trouble so far. Trouble he couldn't get out of. But, what she had just said? Told a lot. Explained a lot. That her life had been hard. That she knew what it was like to hurt, to be hungry to the point of pain, that she wouldn't think twice about eating a lizard. As opposed to Chris, who grew up with Piper, a trained chef. It gave him a little window into who she was. Or at least who she had been.

[Maybe this was one of those things that was in the whitelighter manual, that he hadn't actually read. He fought with himself for a while, scrunched up his nose and sighed, leaning back.]

You're in pain. I can feel it. It's kind of like a psychic connection. And no, I didn't do it on purpose and I can't make it go away.

[ The good news is - if you'd call it good news - this is a Nebula who's grown from her kneejerk reaction of stabbing anything that offends her. Or that so much as enunciates she might be weak. Which he practically does rather he knows it or not. Her shoulders tense and she chews the last piece of the lizard violently, taking the sudden surge of aggressive energy out on the food rather than him.]

[ Really, this is what we call character growth, especially when she gets up and tosses the empty skewer into the fire like she wants to kick grass. ]

[ Maybe it's just Mantis being family or a whole other life experience that makes her accept the fact more readily. Maybe it's that acceptance, that knowledge of this is who she was. I wasn't always like this, she'd said. Rhodey's response had been, Neither was I; We make due with what what we have. Or maybe she'd be madder if it was her feelings - it's not, so it's easier when she breathes out through her nostrils. ]

I'm always in pain. Everyday. A gift from my father and this body he gave me.

[ In no way does she make it sound like it was a gift as she rounds on him, lilac eyes peering into him: ]

Why? [ Why does he have it? No, more importantly: ] Why me?

[Chris still isn't correlating how feeling pain is being weak. You know, pain, that thing every living thing feels? Hell, his father was dead and he still felt pain. So. Totally not computing. Still, he was really grateful that she didn't stab him. Or would have been if he knew it had been on the table. He arched an eyebrow, however, not missing the aggressiveness with which she chewed the lizard (yum!) and tossed the skewer into the fire. Right. Anger issues. He could relate.]

You're own dad did that? That's not like. De-facto cool alien stuff? [What? You were blue, Nebula. Okay sure, Chris dealt with demons who came in all shapes and colors but still. You. Were. Blue.] And you can't stop it?

[Chris let out a sigh, an uncomfortable, tense sigh.] I don't know why. Either someone's having fun and assigning me people, or...it's a natural connection. Either way, I can't make it go away. I'm probably supposed to help you in some way.

But why not you?

[Nebula was so busy being angry that Chris wondered if she stopped to wonder why not her? That maybe she was actually deserving of not being in pain and having a friend. Someone who cared.]

[ The woman's eyes narrow dangerously underneath her brows - formerly unreadable dark orbs alight with no lack of agitation. He reminds her of someone in the way he speaks. She's not sure if that's a good thing or not and she decidedly thinks she doesn't like it. Her metal fingers fletch with a harsh laugh that scrapes like metal, like this hearty version of it is so unpracticed it tears at vocal chords. A single caw as she breathes out: ]

"Defacto cool-alien stuff," [ She doesn't sneer, but she almost does. ] What creature do you know that rips out their own arm, eyes, and brain for cool stuff?

[ It's practically a rhetorical question because she doesn't stay on it long enough to let him answer: ] If I had control over any of it, do you think I'd live like this?

[ Again. Another rhetorical question. The answer is clear in the way she says it: It's never been much of a life. She'd only just recently began to learn how to live a life for herself - free. It's why the anger coils off of her in waves, her greatest security in face of her weaknesses. And as her father had always taught her, this body and her heart were a weakness. Each bit replaced so deliberately to strengthen her, without any regards for what came after. No, her father would say that the pain would make her strong too. That flinching in it was a weakness to be snuffed out - ]

[ - She doesn't disagree. She won't, for some time yet, because Nebula still struggled with weakness and she might just for her own personal ones for the rest of her life. ]

[ To her credit, she does listen even if the corners of her lips do pull away in that snarl she fought as she looked away. To her credit, she takes it as truth. Because what idiot would want to suffer through every ounce of pain she feels willingly? She has to - no one else does.

To her credit, though her fist clenches so tightly the wires of the metal seem to stain she does not fling it the nearest tree with force enough to break it - ]

Ignore it. I don't need help.

[ She doesn't. Not really (so she tells herself). She doesn't want it either, though she doubts any help he can give - if only because the only thing she sees "help" in is in fighting. Or the mechanics of this stupid body in this stupid world, but she doesn't let herself think of that. She barely lets herself even think about his own question even if her return punctures the air like a stab wound: ]

... It's atonement, for all the things I did across countless planets.

[ Is it? Is that how she really feels - maybe. She's yet to forgive herself for any of it. It's not like she can do anything about this pain. Shouldn't she just embrace it, as a reminder of what she'd done? Or, perhaps, where she came from? ]

And I think you just answered your own question. [You don't scare him Nebula. Okay, maybe a little bit. But he also knew he couldn't just ignore it. Just not say anything. Magic happened for a reason right? Besides, for now they were kind of stuck together.] I think you want to live like this. You said it yourself. Atonement. You don't punish yourself for things you don't think you're guilty of.

[Chris eyed her, watching her sort through her own emotions as he tried to sort out his--and what he could feel of hers. Being a Whitelighter was kind of a pain in the ass, but not as much pain as what she was going through. And she was stuck with the one angel who couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Ignore it? He could do that. He could just put her on mute. But that didn't actually solve the problem.]

Also your dad? Sounds like a giant jackass. Who does shit like that?

[His tone softens a bit, looking at her.] and it sucks you have to live with the consequences of his actions.

[ Nebula knows she's guilty of heinous things. Sure, many of her actions could be attributed to her father and his abuse. But not the execution of it. Not the fact she carried them out versus doing something about it - versus what? Death? Hadn't she awaited for it by the hand of Gamora? She'd known she was a tool until death, nothing more and nothing less. And some part of her had longed for that peace. ]

[ It was just never outweighed with the violent need to survive. A thing that's not been stamped out of her, even if her beliefs are no longer the same. Even if now she is firmly on the side of good she wasn't always - And here this man. This kid, she aggressively decides, acts as if he knows more than he does. ]

[ Why? Because he's seen but a speck of the immeasurable pain she lives in? ]

[ She's been nice for so long. She's kept her head low, she's tried (in her own way) to be agreeable and something in the way he speaks - in the way his tone softens to something that feels pitiable even if it isn't swells in her. She does not tense, but she does lunge. She does shove an arm -blessedly the more organic one than pure metal - into his chest as she shoves him into a tree. The sound that leaves her mouth is a guttural, feral growl as she stares into him. Once black orbs, glinting instead in the light of the fire all the brunt of anger and self-hated she's held back. ]

Don't. Pretend. You know a damned thing about me.

[ A different Nebula would go for the knife at her waist - always ready - she doesn't even if her gaze remains hard. Even if she keeps the arm and pressure against him: ]

I didn't choose to be this. [ She didn't. Nebula would never be able to admit it to herself, but her nature would have been far different - Once, she'd been a different person entirely. ] I did choose to do some of the things I've done. If you want, I'll show you.

[ It's low and dangerous - the hint of the assassin who'd once been known as the biggest sadist in the universe. To her own ears, the threat is only half of what it once was. She's angry, but she's not that person anymore. ]

This body is mine. As is it's unending pain. I deserve it and I will make it my own. I don't need your opinions.

[Chris is caught completely off guard as she lunges and shoves him into the freaking tree. Even if he wasn't? Well, he was an absolutely terrible fighter, thanks in part to his whitelighter heritage. So he hangs there as she holds him against the tree, ranting. Unfortunately for Nebula, Chris had spent his entire life being threatened, used and abused by his sociopath of a brother, and then proposed to an assassin witch and made alliances with demons. So? He wasn't scared of you. Which was probably a deeply unhealthy reaction.

Still, he waited until she was done ranting at him, and then orbed out, rematerializing a few feet behind her.]

Wow, I think I hit a nerve there. Got it. You're really big and bad and desperate to prove it. Here's the thing. It only works on people who are scared of you. You want to be in pain? Sure, have it your way. Enjoy punishing yourself.

[ He disappears in that whirl of blinding lights and she's caught off guard - Just for a moment. She's quick to whirl around at the sound of him behind her the dagger quickly drawn with narrowed eyes. ]

[ Her mouth a tense line. ]

If I wanted you dead you would be.

[ She cuts in immediately, voice harsh. The metallic tone of it rings in her ears - as it so often does in moments where her voice isn't measured. He's lucky. A different Nebula wouldn't even offer that - he'd be dead. Neck snapped before he got another word out. ]

[ Here's the secondary thing: Nebula's lived in pain for over twenty years. The idea she couldn't isn't even a thought. It's never been one, because this is her existence - Punishment for being weak. For what she's done. Sure, she can call it fanciful words. But the truth is it's a part of this body and that means she has no escape - has never thought there was ever a chance. ]

You talk a lot about something you have no damned idea what you are talking about.

[ She snatches up the spear with one hand and turns away. ]

Show up in my face again and I'll gut you like a fish.

Why don't we try this again later? You're not really in a fabulous mood. So why don't you enjoy your lizard and maybe next time we meet you'll have learned the meaning of friendship. I'll give you a hint, it doesn't involve gutting people like fish.

[Chris was backing away as he spoke because, she was really good with weapons and he....wasn't. He was good with running his mouth though. Funny how that went hand in hand. Hopefully he'd stop in time not to have to use his explosive potion on his charge. That was....really, really against the rules right?]

Here's the thing. When you're ready to have a conversation like a civilized person and not threaten them with deadly weapons, let me know.

[And then Chris orbed out in a rush of sparkling white and blue lights. Bye Nebula.]