Marvel rp: Post-Civil War ENDGAME SPOILERS

(Sure thing!)

Gamora:

"I'm still fairly new to this whole 'holiday' thing," Gamora admitted, looking over to Eveline. Humans had quite a lot of holidays they celebrated here on Earth, holidays that sometimes seemed strange and nonsensical to an outsider like her. As anyone could guess, growing up under someone like Thanos left no room for holidays, though they came into contact with many throughout their... visits to planets. He'd considered them foolish and 'wasteful,' and none of his children could argue.

"Though, there was one holiday we used to celebrate on my home planet, once a year, on the longest day." The tradition had been to celebrate plentiful resources, but, ironically, by the time Gamora had been born, the resources had been drained near to none. By the time Thanos came, the holiday had lost most of its meaning. "I don't know if they still do," Gamora finished, trailing into silence as she stared at the dancing tendrils of flame in the fireplace.

(Yes I just want to stay home and wriiiiiittteeee)

(Maple; I agree D: )

(kk! take your time )

(I’ll have a reply up at some point xD)

Logan: 

Logan almost let out a laugh, but he was quick enough to cover it up with a cough. "All I've been doing for so long is surviving," he told the other man. "At this point, I'm not sure it's much of a miracle or something to be proud of. Maybe for the likes of you and the rest of the people here. But... surviving--" Logan grinned a wolfish grin, shaking his head. "Listen, bub, when you've lived as long as I have... sometimes it seems like more of a burden. Because, unlike you, I can't say my being here has made the world a better place. And, honestly, I'm not quite sure why I'm here. At the Avengers Base."

His eyes found his hands, the hands that were free of blood now but were no stranger to it. Not at all. "I'd like to say I've always been on the right side of the fight, but... not everyone would agree with that. Take, for instance, police officers," he said, pointing to Percival now that this new information had come into light. "Regardless of your feelings now, the authorities were always against mutants. Didn't matter if we were with the Brotherhood or the X-Men. We were all enemies of the common people. And, maybe they were right. Because, boss or not, I've made my fair share of mistakes and I still do. I've watched a lot of my friends die... and I've done a share of that killin' myself."

"But, if there is one thing I agree with you on, Percival," he said, managing a genuine laugh, no matter how foreign it sounded coming out of his throat, "it is that children are scary. As a former guest of Xavier's and a former teacher myself, I can definitely attest to that." 

Peter, Bucky, and Steve:

Peter rolled his eyes. Perhaps it was more festive, but if he had it his way (which he usually did, thank you very much), he would have played his Awesome Volume Mix every day of the year. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "Just enjoy the music while you can. You'll get tired of it soon enough, and I'll gladly rejoice in the sound of your begging for Blue Swede and The Jackson 5. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

Bucky grinned.

John:

John looked up from his hot chocolate and focused on Eveline. It was hardly hot anymore, but the good thing with hot chocolate was that it still tasted good (at least in his opinion) no matter the temperature. "You've lost someone too?" John asked quietly. He thought of saying nothing, but her words prompted his curiosity. It seemed like they'd all lost people, but, then, with jobs like theirs... it was almost a normalcy. He'd never get used to it. He'd never get over it. He'd never be okay with it. But there was no denying how commonplace it had become.  

Percival:
Though the whole conversation of police, Percival remained quiet. He had been lumped into group of them as a whole rather than Logan asking whether or not he was one of those police officers. He didn't make a comment on 'I think they'd treat me the same way if they knew', but he wanted to. But there would have been questions and he wanted to avoid that. He already knew that Logan would question it.
"Yes," he said quietly, almost distantly. Then the smile that had disappeared from his lips reappeared, just a touch around his face. "Children grow into fearsome adults though."
He tapped at his elbow, arms crossed, as he thought. Then he questioned as he held out a hand, "If you are not going to use my lighter, I can take it back."


Tom:
Snorting, Tom looked around. "Yeah, I want a party. Or I at least want eggnog. I'm going to get that. If anyone wants to join me in making the snacks then feel free. Then like it or not, I'm going to sing."
He seemed to find it a very spiteful move after everything that Peter had put him through with the music. Anyway, his voice wasn't bad.
He spun away, raising his hand in a wave to Rocket, because honestly after the little tiff he was the only one making sense. Peter was just too uptight about the music.
The snacks weren't that far away, but most of them were in a fridge and hadn't even been dragged to the main room yet. Tom had no problem with doing that job. It meant he got first call on anything he brought. When he dragged back the carton of eggnog and the cups (along with three bags of chips, two of which were already newly opened), he couldn't help grinning at Bucky and Steve. "I see the music is still going. Perhaps you two would care for some snack, eh?"
It was the least he could do after framing them for changing the music.


Eveline:
John's question seemed to invade some distant thoughts of Eveline's and she had to blink several times before her focus returned. When it did, she looked first at Gamora as if expecting her to say something. When she didn't, Eveline looked down at the fire again (though her eyes had never really left them) and said, "My town was burned down. Of course I've lost someone."
She paused for a second and then added, "It was a long time ago."
That didn't make it better. It just made it distant. She could almost tell that Gamora had been through something like it. Then again ... which person in this room hadn't? It was hard to grasp.

Logan:

Logan let out a gruff chuckle. "They do," he told the other man. "Just look at all us?" His eyes swept towards the glass door, in which the Avengers could be seen inside. "We were all once children... and look at us." He wasn't one to be sentimental, but he hated the memories that the thought of the passage of time brought to his mind. He frowned, and his narrowed eyes focused on nothing in particular in the distance. Just... far away. Anywhere but here. He let out a sigh, willing his thoughts to drift away, when he caught Percival's hand in the corner of his eye. Slowly arching an eyebrow, he stared at the man for a moment before his words registered. Logan's eyes fell to the lighter still locked between his fingers. "Oh... right." He dropped the lighter into Percival's hand, and he couldn't help but think of all the people he'd lost to time.

John:

John swallowed thickly and stared down at his hot chocolate. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to pry. I don't know why I even said anything." He slowly shook his head. As an ex-marine, he was supposed to be strong. He wasn't supposed to let his emotions overcome him. He was supposed to act logically and reasonably, free of feeling because those sorts of things got in the way. And, yet... his emotions were always what got him in trouble because, while he'd been a good marine, he could never just do as he was told. He couldn't control the impulses that made him step out of line and make rash decisions because there was more he felt he could be doing. But, it's also what made him a good leader. Because he wasn't afraid, and he'd lay his life down a million times for others. He was fearless in that respect, and he gave more thought to the people around him than his own self. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was practically bullet-proof. Or... perhaps he just cared more deeply than he'd ever tell. "I know... I know we've all lost someone. I know that's why we're all here."

Peter:

"Rocket? Partying?" He let out a laugh. "Okay, now this is something I need to see." With a grin, Peter broke away from his music, and he began to dance, watching Rocket out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the animal to do his best 'partying'. But, just briefly, Peter's eyes rested on Gamora as well, as he spun to the beat of the music, and he froze. She looked so solemn sitting by the fire with John and Eveline, and he wondered what she was talking about to make her so sad. Considering it was a party, he didn't think she should be sad at all, but he knew how Gamora felt about dancing. To keep it short, she wasn't much of a fan. But Peter was working on it. There were two types of people in the world, Drax had once said. People that danced and people that didn't. He'd make a dancer out of her. And, so, amidst the music, Peter began to dance his way to Gamora.

Steve and Bucky:

Steve watched the party as it finally began, and his eyes followed Tom as the other man went to get snacks. He wasn't entirely hungry, but when Tom offered food to him and Bucky, he shrugged and said, "Sure, sounds good." With a quick glance at Bucky, who nodded, both of them walked over to the snack table with Tom. "Is this why you volunteered to get the snacks?" Bucky asked Tom. "So you would have first pick?" He stuck his hand into the bowl of chips and slowly lifted a chip to his mouth. "If so, I applaud."

(whY IS MY LIFE SO HECTIC)

(Same here! @.@ )

Rocket:

"I'll see what I can do," Rocket replied with a half-smirk. Get two humans into a human holiday? Shouldn't be too hard. Except that he wasn't a human himself and barely knew anything about this whole Christmas thing. Oh well. He would figure something out.

So, Rocket hopped down from his chair at the snack table and found his way to where Tom had come from: the kitchen. Getting into the fridge was easy enough. The steel handles were low enough for him to reach and pull open one of the doors. The contents seemed pretty bare, party-wise, and he started wondering who'd been in charge of planning this thing until he luckily spotted a package of cookie dough on the bottom shelf. Again, low enough for him to reach.

The oven, on the other hand, wasn't. Whoever designed this kitchen had decided to put it all the way above the counter, in, like, the middle of the wall. Who does that? Well, Rocket had just the idea of how to fix it.

Soon, Rocket was back in the main room, and when he climbed back into the chair at the table he'd left, he plopped the package into plain view. "Hey, you two," he called to Steve and Bucky. "Either of you know how to work an oven? I mean, I'm pretty sure they were invented here before the 1940s, but if not, I guess I'll just do it myself." He then made eye contact with Tom long enough to give him a wink.

Gamora:

Gamora sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap. Now he'd done it. She couldn't keep on ignoring Peter now, it would be obvious. "Yes, he probably will," she agreed with Eveline, her tone reluctant and slightly annoyed. "And the dance floor is exactly where I don't want to be," she added under her breath. Still, to the dance floor she would go. But not to dance.

As she rose from her chair by the fireplace, she said, "Excuse me," to both Eveline and John in the hopes that it would make her ducking out of the conversation less awkward. Once she was away from them, though, she dragged herself straight to where Peter had been inching his way closer to where she'd been sitting.

"What is it?" Gamora asked him, the fact that she already knew what was coming and was already tired of it seeping into her voice.

Logan:

It was quite true. Logan did get cold, but it didn't bother him. Not like it might bother someone else. He'd been in too many harsh conditions and situations to count and those, along with his mutant abilities, made him more immune (although not entirely) to the types of things that would bother a normal human being. Of course, he was a human being. Very much so. But... well, he defied a lot of the rules that human beings followed. Including death. Yup. He stared death in the face many times, and somehow he always made it out alive. Call it luck or just a freak ability to heal as fast as he was wounded. Call it what you wanted; he just couldn't die. Maybe that was it, too. Not just a tolerance, but an indifference. He'd been alive for so long and seen so much that things just didn't phase him the way that they used to. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like. To be a person discovering something for the first time, to be surprised by things again. Now his immediate reaction to anything was more... angry or annoyed or indifferent.

So, no. While he could see the cloud of air before his mouth as he exhaled, he was not phased by the coldness. And, in fact, he preferred to stay outside anyways. Call him heartless, but he didn't care if Percival left him, either. He was used to being on his own, and things worked out better for him that way, too. Once you started trusting people, once you started flocking with others and connecting with them, that's when people got hurt and bad things happened. And, from his very vast experience, the people he got close to always got hurt. And he was usually the reason. It wasn't worth the pain.

"You go," he told the other man, assuming that his question meant he wanted to head inside. "If I wanted to be with the others, I wouldn't have come out here," he grumbled. He wasn't trying to be rude, but it was the truth. He didn't have a problem with the Avengers or their many friends. But they were all having a good time, and they enjoyed the company of others. Logan just... wasn't like that. He was a lone wolf. And he knew better than to change that.

Peter:

Although he was too focused on Gamora at this point, he caught Rocket's words behind him and let out a snicker, remembering Knowhere. There was a reason raccoons shouldn't be allowed to drink. Obviously they couldn't be trusted.

He continued dancing his way over to the crew by the fire, and when he was close enough to hear their conversation and feel the heat of the fire, he stopped, grinning in their direction. But before he could even say a thing, he caught the end of Eveline and Gamora's words, and that grin quickly faded. He lifted his eyebrows, slightly hurt. Annoying man on the dance floor? Ha! Try best dancer on the dance floor! Peter pretended not to hear that rude comment, and attempted to smile once more, taking a slight step back. Obviously Eveline didn't know any better. But he was slightly hurt that Gamora didn't stand up for him. But... she was leaving them for him. His gal loved him after all.

"Oh, you know what," Peter said, waggling his eyebrows when she stopped in front of him. "Dance with me, Gamora. It's a party. Come on. Dance with me." He stuck out his hand, once more giving his eyebrows a little dance. "You don't know what you're missing."

Bucky & Steve:

Apparently neither Tom nor Rocket approved of Bucky or Steve's holiday spirit. Bucky thought he had plenty of holiday spirit. In fact, he was usually the life of the party. First one to show up and last to leave. Steve, on the other hand, had never been the best at partying. Although he did 'party', so to say, he was usually the responsible one. As kids, this responsibility had often gotten Bucky out of sticky situations (thanks, Steve!). But, well, perhaps over time the both of them had forgotten what it was like to truly enjoy themselves. Maybe it was the countless battles that they'd faced or the losses. Maybe it was the fact that Steve had been frozen for 70 years or that Bucky had been turned into a brainwashed killing machine. If they'd forgotten how to get into the holiday spirit, it wasn't entirely their faults. Life (or, arguably, death) got in the way. The last real Christmas that they'd had together was in the 1940s.

"You two are relentless," Bucky said, letting out a low chuckle, his eyes moving between Tom and Rocket. "But, yes. We know how to work an oven. We weren't born in the dark ages, eh, Steve?" He elbowed his friend and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen before walking that way. "Let's go help the raccoon with his cookies, show him what real men are made of."

"Buck, you haven't made cookies once in your life," Steve said, letting out a laugh. His mother had made cookies many times as a child, and he remembered Bucky always being the first one at the table to try them. It had resulted in burned fingertips and tongues, but there were never any complaints. "Most you've done is eat them. And, boy, did you do a good job at that."

Bucky rolled his eyes, looking back to Steve as his friend followed him to the kitchen. "Yeah, but the raccoon doesn't know that," he whispered. "Besides, how hard can it be? All we gotta do is put them in the oven. Someone else was smart enough to invent packaged cookie dough."

edit: Woops! I totally forgot about John xD I’ll do his reply later

Gamora:

Gamora sniffed and gave Peter a small smile, though it didn't hold much amusement. "I think I'll pass," she told
him, placing her hand on her hip instead of in his hand.

Yes, she admitted it, she'd given in to this somewhat frequent request of his a few times before, but never in
front of anyone else, and especially not in the middle of a party full of people she barely knew. She'd
given in because she'd learned by now that he did genuinely enjoy dancing with her, and if it made him happy,
she could indulge him when she didn't have to worry about making a fool of herself in front of others.

If she was being honest, the Avengers didn't know of her reputation out in the galaxy of a fierce,
no-nonsense warrior, so she could possibly get away with it with them. The other Guardians still did, though.
Drax and Rocket would never let her hear the end of it.

Honestly, it was just dancing. It wouldn't be the end of the world for Peter if she didn't agree to it this time.