Marvel rp: Post-Civil War ENDGAME SPOILERS

(Life is happening. Sorry for absence. )

(It's okay! I'm sorry your day was stressful. Take your time with responses
I probably won't respond right away ): )

Logan:

Logan rolled his eyes as Percival spoke. "You're not much company, either," he mumbled. "But... I guess I've got nothing better to do." He wasn't one of his students. He didn't go searching for trouble or adventure like he once might have. In fact, after a life of so much excitement, all he wanted sometimes was just to settle down and live in peace. Retire, perhaps. But, for someone like him, retirement was near impossible. And, he had to admit that, while he was content to stay where he was, the idea of getting out of there and actually doing something did seem to spark a thrill. 

"Let's see how safe this base really is," he added to Percival's comment. And then he watched the other man tumble over the edge of the porch. Without even waiting to see if Percival had made it safely, he threw himself over the porch much less gracefully, hardly peeking at the length of the drop, and landed only a moment later to see Percival staring at him. He quickly got to his feet, and he crossed his arms, taking a step towards Percival.  "A'right, kid," he told the other man, lifting an eyebrow, "where does your spectacular idea take us now?" 


John:

John was a master of observation. Not just because of his powers that allowed him superhuman senses. But also because of his training in the marines. And he didn't miss the way that both Eveline and Tom had glanced at each other, the subtle way their body language had changed in their brief passing. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he led Eveline through the door to the hallway, and then when they were past the others, he stopped and turned to look at the woman he was with. "I didn't really have much in mind, but it was getting boring in there. Kind of needed an escape, so thanks. But--" And now he tilted his head, curious, "--but before we even decide what to do, I've got to know: what's going on between the two of you? You got history or something?" His eyes moved slightly in the direction that they'd come from, an attempt to motion towards Tom.


Peter:

Peter tried to hide his surprise when Gamora had started to sway along with him. Although he'd asked in hopes that she would, he doubted she would actually do as he wanted. And he knew that if she saw he was satisfied, she'd quickly stop. So he tried to keep his smile hidden. And it wasn't hard once she started talking about the holidays. In fact, it was very hard not to frown at the memories that now found his mind.

"I like holidays," Peter spoke slowly, looking down at their feet on the parlor floor turned dance floor. "But, you know, when I left Earth, the holidays were the last thing I was thinking of. And... I guess they just didn't seem as important anymore. I became Starlord, legendary outlaw; I wasn't a kid who awaited each holiday anymore. And... the time moves so different when you're not on Earth. I doubt Yondu would have wanted to celebrate Christmas or something. They hated humans, and they didn't need another reminder that I was one."

"I--I liked them," Peter continued, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers, "Loved them. But I didn't miss them. There were plenty of other things to miss." 

Steve & Bucky:

They waited until the other two were in the room, and then Bucky began to open the package of cookie dough that Rocket had found. But before Bucky had even ripped a slit in the plastic, Steve, who had been watching his friend, took the package from his hands, much to Bucky's dismay, and flipped the package over to see the instructions. "I think as long as we keep Bucky away from the oven, we'll be fine without the fire extinguisher," Steve told Rocket, hearing the end of his conversation with Tom. "But, maybe you're right about having it just in case." With Bucky's history with Tony, burning cookies could be just the excuse his friend needed to burn the whole base to the ground just to spite the man who'd tried to kill him. 

"Anyways, it really shouldn't be that hard," Steve said, looking over the instructions. "The cookie dough is already made, so we just have to get a cookie tray, plop the cookie dough onto the tray, and then put it in the oven." Simple. And here was the man in charge, again. This sense of order was something he needed, something to keep him grounded. He turned his eyes to the oven, then to Tom. "Tom, could you turn the oven to 350 degrees? And, Rocket, could you find a cookie tray?" His eyes slid to the raccoon. Although, how sanitary is was to cook with an animal, he wasn't sure. He just figured he'd keep that comment to himself.

"What about me?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms, ever the man looking to follow Steve's command. "What do you have for me?"

"Just wait," Steve told his friend, grinning. "We're not there yet."

 

(Ouch. I did not realize Eveline's reply was so small when I wrote that. >.< Sorry about that.)

(I'll reply at some point! I'm very busy at the moment, eep!

also, just in quick skim, I saw Eveline has turned into Evelina, hehe)

Gamora:

When Peter thanked her, Gamora understood, and in response, she gave him a small smile and nod of acknowledgement. Memories were a part of who they were, and sharing them was just as much a sign of trust as accepting each other regardless of not knowing all the details. And there was no team, no friendship, without trust.

Now, though, she'd left her past behind and moved on to the next stage of her life: one with the Guardians and without Thanos. Also, currently and to some extent, the Avengers. Other humans like Peter. Which came with human holidays and their parties. And, though Gamora was still learning and certainly hadn't yet figured out all there was to know about this one, she could say that, despite all the fuss leading up to it, there wasn't much happening at this party. Festive or otherwise.

Both as a way to bring this up to Peter and just to change the subject, she asked, "So, is it just this one, or are all Christmas parties this... uneventful?" She didn't mean it in a criticizing way, just that you'd expect a lot more drama surrounding a celebration thrown by 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes' beyond a brief spat about who got to choose the music.

(//squints// Hum. Autocorrect? Was this you?

Also, I'm very swamped. @.@ Promise I haven't forgotten.)

(Don't worry about when you reply XDD Chances are, I usually don't reply on time, either XD)

(XD)

(Oof. Painfully short. Sorry.)

Gamora:

Gamora smiled and let out a sniff of ironic laughter. "I haven't partied in over twenty years," she pointed out. No, she didn't know what to do. "If anything, you should. How were the Christmases you knew different to this?" Of course, they couldn't really compare Peter's childhood parties with his family to a bunch of Avengers in their base failing to entertain themselves. They were going to be different regardless. Still, it was a start, at least.

She did follow Peter's gaze over the counter and into the kitchen, where much of the current activity was at, and even she recognized that that, whatever was happening, would probably do plenty of spicing up on its own. Oh, boy.

(Hmm... what would happen if Bucky washed his hands? XDD Specifically his metal hand? XD I mean, I'm sure Wakandan technology makes it so his new arm can get wet and nothing will happen xDD)

Bucky and Steve:

Steve heard Tom mumble something, but what he said was lost to him. Steve just shrugged it off, though; if he'd wanted everyone to hear what he'd said, he probably wouldn't have mumbled it so quietly. "Right, so, cookie baking," Steve mumbled a few words of his own as he stood with his arms crossed watching them. There was nothing more for him to do but stand there. Perhaps if they'd actually had to make the dough it would have been more eventful, but as it was, they'd taken the easy route. Granted, it was probably for the best that they weren't trusted with actual baking. Frozen dough to the oven was a good idea with this crew.

Bucky paused with a ball of dough in his hand and looked at Tom. He lifted his eyebrows, unamused. "We put the dough on the cookie sheet," he told Tom. "And then we wait. Seems kind of simple." He shrugged, and then returned his attention back to the cookie dough. He placed the last ball of dough on the tray, and then let out a huff. "But, waiting is kind of boring." His eyes drifted towards the oven, which still read 'preheat'. And then he grinned and picked up the oven mitt. "Think quick!" he shouted, and threw the oven mitt at Tom. Nothing like a good ol' fashion game of catch in the kitchen.

John:

Her answer didn't make him any less confused. But, perhaps he did understand. It was complicated. And, as much as John would have liked to understand, he knew complicated, and sometimes that was just enough of an explanation as anything. "Just curious," John repeated, putting his hands in his pockets and then shrugging his shoulders as they stopped. "Trust," he added again, and then he looked out into the hallway, avoiding her eyes. "I lived with a bunch of people before I came here," he told her in a low voice. All that seemed like years ago, memories. "We were like family. Helps to know the people you're living with so you can trust. Otherwise, you've got nothing."

Logan:

"Interesting," Logan drawled a moment after Percival had finished speaking. "I'm not sure I'm really a good topic of gossip anyways," he told the other man. Certainly not someone to tell your mother about. "But, when you've been around as long as I have, you become a sort of legend. Or maybe more of a ghost story, I don't know." But what that legend was, he wasn't going to say. Regardless of the reputation Percival was talking about, he figured the man would know soon enough what he was if he didn't already. He shrugged, and then he paused for a brief moment, tilting his head to watch Percival. "I'm not convinced that you're not normal, but you're here, for starters. You wouldn't be here if you were ordinary. The people here are here for a reason. So far, I've yet to figure out where you fit into this equation, which is why the question remains what category you belong. Mutant. Inhuman. Super soldier. Science experiment. I don't know."

Peter:

Yeah, yeah. Peter was usually the one who 'spiced' things up. He was the one with the dance moves and the creative -- er, crazy -- ideas. But now he couldn't think of anything. Perhaps because he hadn't celebrated Christmas in a long time. Perhaps because the last time he'd actually celebrated Christmas, his mother had been alive and he'd been on Earth-- Peter swallowed thickly, and his eyes met Gamora's. "The Christmases that I knew were different because I was young," he told her. "I was a kid. Everything was magical and exciting, and I remember butterflies in my stomach when I went to sleep because the next morning I knew my-" He broke off, and cleared his throat. "-I knew that my mother and I would open presents beneath our Christmas tree." 

Small tears were beginning to swell in his eyes, but he wouldn't cry. He cleared his throat once more, but attempted a smile. "The last time I celebrated Christmas, it was different because my mother was alive," he told Gamora. And then, he once more glanced over at the kitchen, glad for the distraction, and he caught Bucky throwing an oven mitt at Tom. Whatever they were doing in the kitchen seemed a lot more eventful than out here.

(Yeah, I don't know how many of the other Infinity War/Endgame rpers are coming back, which doesn't leave us with a lot of characters, so idk what to say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

(Woah, I just realized I've been in this rp for 2 years which has been around for 4)

(Time is crazy)

(How is everyone?)