Logs:Operation: S.T.R.A.N.D.E.D.

Operation: S.T.R.A.N.D.E.D.
Spaceship Technology Resource Acquisition Necessary Despite Earth's Deficiences
Dramatis Personae Natasha, Rocket
In Absentia	2024-06-13 "I saw those stars in the sky stretching out forever when I was a little thing, knew I'd give anything to visit them."
Location <NYC> Natasha's House - Bed-Stuy
This is a nice two-bedroom unit taking up part of a rowhome. Spacious, light-filled -- and looks barely lived in. Not just in its state of cleanliness, although it is immaculate -- but the furniture is sparse, a few odd and unmatched bits of seating dragged in like it was fully an afterthought that anyone might ever want to Get Comfortable in here. There's a tiny postage stamp of a backyard, which looks a lot more well loved -- well-tended vegetable garden, sturdy and comfortable patio furniture, a small parking pad for the heavily modified electric motorcycle that often lives here. Several different species of bonsai are dotted around the outside space, kitchen, and one of the bedrooms, the most solid indication within the house that someone actually cares about tending to this place. Natasha has made some effort to prepare for her new houseguest, recently -- there is, at least, a twin bed now in the otherwise-empty guest room, with a small dog-sized staircase at its foot. There hasn't been anything in the kitchen, at all, but she's remedying this now with some fresh groceries -- heavy on fruit, beverages, and ready-to-eat type snacks and meals -- that she's unloading from her motorcycle panniers once she's parked out back. She's slung far more bags onto her arms than look comfortable to carry and after this is remembering the inconvenience of having to unclip her keys from the belt loop where she habitually clipped them after getting off her bike. It is an awkward kind of juggling as she attempts to unlock the door. Now that he has access to his ship again, Rocket is wearing an intact and clean grey flight suit with red highlights and a red scarf around his neck. He also has a kind of utility belt with various pouches and tools (some that have a bit of a mysterious design) hooked on it. Otherwise, he has a couple of bags to move inside, small enough so that he can hoist them off the ground. "So that's a motorcycle?" he says appraisingly at the machine Natasha stepped off of. He places the bags on the ground and asks, pointing towards the key hole, "You need help with that?" "That's my baby, yeah." Natasha glances over her shoulder at the bike with the pride of a mother watching her kid graduate college. "Can't fly like yours, but she can fly." She twists her wrist within its burden of many-grocery-bag-handles, offering her keys -- correct door-key held apart from the others -- to Rocket. "Thanks. Trying to be lazy. Should've just made two trips. -- how's it going with your ride?" Rocket takes the offered key and reaches up to insert it into the keyhole and twist. "Took a lot of damage up there. If I didn't get out when I did, I would've been turned into fine meat noodles through the viewport." He makes a slurping sound to emphasize that before opening the door and twirling the keys with his finger. "Had enough structural integrity after the seals activated to land it, so now I just have to get the materials. Is it too much to hope your planet's got a big shop that sells big chunks of elements and alloys?" Nat jerks her chin up in thanks as she heads inside. "Uh," she's considering as she goes to dump her groceries on the counter. "Amazon?" It sounds like kind of a tongue-in-cheek guess. "Got a shopping list? Might know an alloy-dealer or two. Think the parts dealerships for spaceships are slim pickings around here, though." Rocket looks around as he enters and he says, "You don't got a lot of puppets, huh?" He seems kind of disappointed by this observation. "Amazon, like the rain forest? They got markets? Once I get all the workshop machines back up and running, the material will be enough for me to fabricate with." He stands on his toes to peer over the counter to watch the grocery bags, reaching a hand out towards the bags. "Oh, uh -- no, this is more like." Natasha's brow furrows. "A huge virtual store that probably is doing something to destroy the real Amazon." She's lowering the bags to the floor when Rocket reaches, so that he can look through them at his leisure; she starts to stock the Things That Need Cooling away in the mostly-empty fridge. Then, after a moment of consideration, moving the things she's already put inside to a lower shelf. S'it gonna take a lot of Chunks-o-element to get those machines in order?" Rocket removes a banana from the bag and then tentatively bites it then looks at it with open disgust when the peel does not easily give way, though his other hand sifts through to examine (and judge) the other items. "How many would you say is a lot? It's pretty reasonable considering the size of the ship. The engine's gonna be the most trouble, I don't think you guys have what I need... here." He waves his hand broadly to indicate how expansive he means the here to refer to. "You gotta --" Nat takes another banana, demonstrating how to peel it (from the bottom end; she's holding it by the long stem end) and taking a bite. She doesn't bother putting away any other foods once she's gotten the cold things away. Instead she's filling a small glass measuring cup at the sink, ambling around to water some of the tiny manicured trees scattered around the kitchen. "You open up a spaceship garage, you would corner this growing market." Like the Amazon suggestion, this does not sound particularly Earnest. "It'd be a shame to limit my shop work to just this corner of the galaxy. I'll keep to the space heroics. It's dumb, but I like helping people, even the annoying ones." Rocket looks up at the demonstration then down at the banana, and then imitates the peeling method. "What do you do with the outside part?" He takes a bite and then considers it, then seems taken aback, "This tastes just like--" He closes his eyes and snaps his fingers a couple of time, "It'll come to me-- What are those little vegetables? Are they another kind of pet humans keep?" He gestures at the little tree with his banana. "Hah. Yeah. I feel that. Not sure it's dumb." Natasha's smile quirks small and rueful. "Just lands you in some unfortunate backwaters sometimes." She leans back against a counter once she's finished watering the kitchen's Tiny Trees. "Compost it. Turn it to dirt to make new -- well. Not bananas, not around here anyway." She takes another bite of her banana, looking at a small Chinese quince with a twisty trunk nearby her hand. "... never thought about it like that before. Guess they are. This one's a quince --" She's turning it, slightly, to indicate a branch where the small tree is determinedly growing a regular-sized fruit, "-- when this fruit's good and yellow it'll be good to eat. Don't keep 'em for the food, though. Think it's just nice to help something grow." She's studying Rocket thoughtfully, looking at the flight suit. "How'd you get into. Space heroics." "Yeesh, little thing like that must be working hard to make such a big fruit... I got a friend who likes to photosynthesize, too, so I can appreciate you having these ones around." Rocket looks down at the banana for a few moments. "Gangalar Eccoli, that's what it tastes like. Ball of mush in a peel, goes bad real fast, stinks up a ship like you wouldn't believe. Damn good, though." Rocket takes another bite of the fruit tentatively and starts to pace as he considers the question posed to him. "What's the phrase you people use to dodge questions? It's a long story? It's a long story. But in short, probably 'cause of my stupid friends." "Oh, we use a lot of phrases to dodge questions," Natasha assures Rocket. "Let me get back to you, that's personal, who's asking, I am not a crook, I won't bore you with the details -- endless, really." She is holding up the remaining bite of her banana, peering at it in consideration. "... E. coli is something very different here." She pops the rest of the banana into her mouth, and puts the peel in a small lidded compost bin. "Even besides the, ah, chunks of alloys, just. Let me know if there's anything you need here. Don't have guests that often and I'm --" Her brows pinch, for a moment. "Not entirely sure what kinds of food you're used to." "Yeah? What is E. coli here? I'll be sure to avoid it," says Rocket. He pushes a hand against his own shoulder in a kind of stretch and shakes his head, "There's never been a 'used to' for me. Been bouncing between systems for near as long as I remember and I took what I could get. For what it's worth, the food I have had here is better than average. I don't usually go to pre-contact worlds, so it's not what I'm used to, either. You guys have what, made it to your moon?" "Bacteria. Gives you the shits." Natasha's mouth twitches to the side, thin and brief, at Rocket's words. She's quick enough to smile after this: "Food is definitely one thing we've done good. Just wait till you try biryani." She lifts a shoulder after this, eyes tipping up towards the ceiling, little though she can see Space from here. "Yeah we had kind of a -- big push to get to space few decades ago as a kind of technological proxy war and then when it stopped being as relevant to the dick-wagging the funding kinda --" Her hand makes a little poof gesture. "Lotta people speculating, but -- not a lot people who actually know what it's like out there. What's your favorite -- world? Sounds like you've been around a bit." "I saw those stars in the sky stretching out forever when I was a little thing, knew I'd give anything to visit them," says Rocket, waving what remains of the banana in a wide arc. "The name's a dead giveaway, I wanted to fly. You guys should do more space stuff. Non-war space stuff, I got enough problems." He takes the final bite, and starts to fold up the peel. "Lots of cool worlds out there, usually each has a shitload of names. If you like big-ass cities, Xandar might be up your alley, it's a crossroads and you find anything there. Gangalar I mentioned, it's great, lots of plants and water, not so many people, the critters aren't hostile, nice if you want to take your plant buddy on a vacation. Yours seem more like homebodies, though." "Got a feeling the first ones on this planet to do more space stuff are gonna have war on their minds." Natasha takes the small compost bin off the counter, setting it down on a twelve-pack box of seltzer on the floor within Rocket's reach. "You know plants that like to travel?" sounds less like a Question and more like an, of course there are plants that like to travel. She's eying her small quince, too. "I think mine like the quiet, yeah. -- You want dinner? More than a banana? I can order." "If they really want to do war, they'll only find a whole universe of pain out there. You guys did good with the Brood, but to wage a whole campaign..." Rocket shrugs helplessly and places the peel in the offered bin (and his nose wrinkles a moment before he shuts it). "Groot, my buddy, is a plant. He's reliable." His ears do perk and his hand clasps and opens a couple of time as if to grab this future food. "Yeah, let's get some more food! What's the best stuff? Let's get whatever the best stuff is." "Unfortunately, the pain doesn't tend to fall on the people making those decisions." Natasha straightens and digs her phone out of her pocket. "The best? Man..." She's scrolling through her GrubHub app, thumb tapping idly against the side of the screen. "We got a lot of good food. Luckily, you're in one of the best cities on the planet for trying a range. -- we can start with the biryani."