𝐢. what a bunch of a-holes
𝐢. what a bunch of a-holes
𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐀, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐗𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄. She could barely recall the endless feasts in opulent halls, the soft silks that adorned her, or the soothing melodies of the palace musicians. Her once vibrant, gilded world had faded into a blur, overshadowed by her current existence.
The transformation in her life began when she met Rocket and Groot. Over time, they became her family, her constants in an unpredictable galaxy. She could hardly remember her life without them now.
Now on Xandar, Sylia sat cross-legged on the ground, her fingers lightly grazing the cool surface. To pass the time, she made small flowers bloom on her palm, their delicate petals unfurling in a spectrum of colors. Boredom often spurred her to use her abilities in whimsical ways. Nearby, Rocket and Groot were engaged in their usual surveillance of the Xandarian city, their sharp eyes taking in the bustle around them.
"Xandarians. What a bunch of losers," Rocket muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "All of them in a big hurry to get from something stupid to nothing at all. Pathetic." As he spoke, a Xandarian man with short blond hair walked by, drawing Rocket’s attention. "Look at this guy! Can you believe they call us criminals when he’s assaulting us with that haircut?"
Sylia glanced up from her flowers, a small smile tugging at her lips. Rocket’s commentary was always a mix of annoyance and amusement. Her gaze shifted to a small Xandarian child, struggling slightly as he received help walking. Rocket zeroed in on him next.
"What is this thing? Look how it thinks it’s so cool. It’s not cool to get help! Walk by yourself, you little gargoyle."
"Rocket, that's a kid!" Sylia exclaimed. She closed her palm, the flowers disappearing as she turned her full attention to Rocket’s rant.
Rocket seemed unfazed by her protest, his eyes scanning for his next target. An older Xandarian man, engaged in a lively conversation with a pretty young woman, caught his eye. "Look at Mr. Smiles over here. Where’s your wife, old man? What a class-A pervert."
He chuckled, and this time, Sylia couldn’t help but laugh along. Rocket’s observations were crude, but his unfiltered honesty was part of what made him endearing. "Right, Groot?" Rocket called out, seeking confirmation for his tirade.
Both Sylia and Rocket turned to look at Groot, who was standing by a nearby fountain, his large wooden hands cupping water to drink. "Don’t drink fountain water, you idiot. That’s disgusting!" Rocket scolded. Groot simply shook his head, pretending he hadn’t been drinking from the fountain at all.
"Groot, we just saw you drink it," Sylia said, her voice a blend of seriousness and softness. Groot looked sheepish but didn't respond. Suddenly, Rocket's tablet emitted a sharp beeping sound, alerting him to a human sighting.
"Whoop. Looks like we got one. Okay, humie, how bad does someone wanna find you? Forty thousand units? We’re gonna be rich." Rocket's eyes gleamed with excitement at the prospect of a hefty reward. He glanced over to Groot and saw him sipping from the fountain again. With an exasperated look, he turned to Sylia, who merely shrugged. Both Rocket and Sylia sighed and shook their heads in unison.
The three watched intently as the human, Peter Quill, entered a nearby building. Minutes later, he emerged, only to be confronted and attacked by a green-skinned woman. The woman’s combat skills were impressive, and she moved with a lethal grace. The trio remained hidden, biding their time and observing the fight, waiting for the perfect moment to intervene.
"All right, let’s go," Rocket said decisively, readying his guns. Sylia and Groot nodded in agreement, bracing themselves for action. As the woman was about to stab Quill, Rocket sprang into action, tackling her with surprising force.
Sylia quickly summoned vines from the earth, directing them to ensnare the woman. The vines obeyed her command, wrapping around the woman and pinning her to the ground. "Put him in the bag. Put him in the bag!" Rocket yelled to Groot, urgency in his voice. Groot's branches stretched out past Sylia, reaching for the woman.
In the confusion, Sylia's control over the vines wavered. Groot's branches wrapped around the woman instead of Quill, lifting her off the ground. "No! Not her, him!" Rocket yelled, frustration evident as Groot pulled the woman up.
"We really have to teach him genders," Sylia groaned, making the vines disappear. Rocket climbed back onto her shoulder and grabbed the woman's shoulder, his grip firm despite his small stature. Rocket squirmed over the woman's shoulders as she struggled against Groot's hold, her movements frantic. Suddenly, she screamed and bit Rocket's hand.
"Biting? That's not fair," Rocket commented dryly, wincing in pain. The woman, using the opportunity, threw Rocket off her shoulders and into a nearby glass stand, shattering it with a loud crash.
"Rocket!" Sylia yelled, her voice filled with concern. The woman pulled out a sword and swung it at Groot's arms. Groot roared in pain but held his ground. The woman then turned her attention to Sylia, her eyes blazing with determination. She swung the sword at Sylia, who instinctively raised her arms, summoning a protective barrier of tree bark. The sword clanged against the bark, and Sylia grunted, pushing the barrier forward and forcing the woman back.
With a final heave, Sylia managed to push the woman to the ground. Seizing the moment, she rushed over to Groot, where Rocket was already standing, looking battered but determined. "Are you okay?" she asked Rocket, her eyes scanning him for injuries.
"I'm fine. Just a bit bruised," Rocket replied, shaking off the glass shards. They continued to follow the woman and Quill through the bustling streets of Xandar, always staying a few steps behind. Quill and the woman were locked in a fierce struggle, their movements swift and desperate.
Finally, Quill managed to throw the woman away from him, sending her sprawling. Seeing their chance, Groot quickly put the bag over Quill and hoisted him onto his shoulder. Sylia let out a sigh of relief, glad that the intense fighting was over. She never liked using her powers for violence.
"Quit smiling, you idiot," Rocket scolded Groot, who was beaming down at their captives. "You're supposed to be professional."
Rocket's sudden stop caused Sylia to bump into him. "What—?" Sylia muttered before looking ahead and seeing the woman standing in their path again.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Rocket grumbled. The woman swiftly drew her sword and shoved Rocket's head to the ground, knocking him off balance. Sylia quickly shot a vine from her hands, aiming to entangle the woman, but she grabbed the vine and yanked, pulling Sylia to the ground with a thud.
Sylia groaned as she forced herself up, feeling the bruises already forming. She watched as Rocket, still dazed, struggled to get up. The woman, undeterred, moved towards Quill, who was trying to crawl away in the chaos. Rocket, regaining his senses, readied his gun and pointed it at Quill, who was inching away.
"I live for the simple things. Like how much this is gonna hurt," Rocket chuckled, his finger hovering over the trigger. With a smirk, he fired the gun, and Quill yelled in pain as the bullet tased him. Sylia rolled her eyes as Rocket laughed maniacally. "Yeah. Writhe, little man."
Sylia's attention shifted to Groot, who was whining and kicking his severed arms that lay on the ground. "It'll grow back, you d'ast idiot. Quit whining," Rocket said dismissively.
"It's okay, Groot. I might be able to do something to make them grow faster," Sylia said gently, her tone in stark contrast to Rocket's. She extended her hand, her fingers brushing the stumps of Groot's arms, channeling her energy to encourage faster regeneration.
Suddenly, Sylia gasped as she felt herself being lifted off the ground. She looked around in alarm as Xandarian ships descended from the sky, their lights flashing ominously. Rocket's ears perked up at the sound of a voice booming over a speaker.
"Subject 89P13, drop your weapon," the authoritative voice commanded.
"Ah, crap," Rocket muttered, reluctantly dropping his gun.
"By the authority of the Nova Corps, you are under arrest for endangerment of life and the destruction of property," the voice continued as the green-skinned woman was also lifted off the ground, her struggles futile against the Nova Corps' restraints.
"Fascists," Rocket mumbled under his breath, his eyes narrowing at the approaching officers.
Sylia sighed, closing her eyes briefly. The situation had spiraled out of control, and now they were facing the full force of the Nova Corps.
Sylia pushed the strands of her long platinum blonde hair behind her ears, her gray eyes narrowing as she looked at the guards.
"Sylia, Princess of Amurru, Goddess of Nature, Daughter of Athos," the guard announced, his voice reverberating through the air. Sylia rolled her eyes at the mention of her father. The title carried weight, but she had long since distanced herself from it. "Ran away from home a few years ago and has traveled with Subject 89P13 and Groot ever since."
The other guards exchanged glances, clearly intrigued by the presence of royalty among the group of notorious misfits. Sylia had grown accustomed to such reactions; her royal lineage often surprised those who only saw her as another bounty hunter.
The cuffs she wore around her wrists made Sylia groan out in pain and tiredness. The enchanted metal sapped her strength, making it difficult to focus, let alone use her powers. Each step was a struggle, but she forced herself to keep moving.
"I guess most of the Nova Corps wanna uphold the laws, but these ones here, they're corrupt and cruel. But, hey, that's not my problem. I ain't gonna be here long," Rocket rambled, his voice cutting through the silence. "I've escaped 22 prisons. This one's no different. You're lucky the broad showed up because otherwise, me, Sylia, and Groot would be collecting that bounty right now, and you'd be getting drawn and quartered by Yondu and those Ravagers."
The group was lined up in a single file, with the woman in front, followed by Rocket, Sylia, Peter Quill, and finally Groot. Guards flanked them on either side, their expressions stern and unyielding as they guided the group through a dimly lit tunnel to the prison. The air was thick with tension, and the sound of their footsteps echoed ominously.
"I've had a lot of folks try to kill me over the years. I ain't about to be brought down by a tree, a talking raccoon, and Tinkerbell," Quill spoke out loud, laughing at himself when he referred to Sylia as Tinkerbell, but it only added to Sylia's growing irritation.
"What's a Tinkerbell?" Sylia asked, her curiosity piqued despite the situation.
"What's a raccoon?" Rocket shot back, clearly annoyed by the unfamiliar term.
"'What's a raccoon?' It's what you are, stupid," Quill retorted.
"Ain't no thing like me, except me," Rocket exclaimed, puffing out his chest with pride.
Quill rolled his eyes but then his tone turned serious. "So, this Orb has a real shiny blue suitcase, Ark of the Covenant, Maltese Falcon sort of vibe. What is it?" he asked, hoping to get some answers.
"I am Groot," Groot interjected helpfully, though his words were lost on Quill.
"So what? What's the Orb?" Quill asked again, his frustration mounting.
"I have no words for an honorless thief," the woman, Gamora, retorted sharply, her disdain evident.
"Pretty high and mighty coming from the lackey of a genocidal maniac. Yeah, I know who you are. Anyone who's anyone knows who you are," Rocket told her, his tone accusatory. Sylia gulped nervously, the weight of the realization settling in. Gamora, daughter of Thanos, was a name that struck fear into the hearts of many.
"Yeah, we know who you are," Quill exclaimed, his voice echoing in the narrow hallway. "Who is she?" he asked Groot, still trying to piece together the situation.
"I am Groot," Groot replied solemnly.
"Yeah, you said that," Quill muttered, clearly exasperated.
"She's Gamora, the daughter of Thanos," Sylia whispered to him. Before he could react further, Gamora spoke up.
"I wasn't retrieving the Orb for Ronan. I was betraying him. I had an agreement to sell it to a third party," Gamora explained, her tone steady but determined.
As they continued through the prison, a door opened, revealing guards rifling through the group's belongings. One guard seemed particularly interested in Quill's belongings.
"I am Groot," Groot mumbled, clearly distressed.
"Well, that's just as fascinating as the first 89 times you told me that. What is wrong with Giving Tree here?" Quill asked, his frustration evident.
Rocket sighed, stepping in to explain. "Well, he don't know talking good like me and you. So his vocabulistics is limited to 'I' and 'am' and 'Groot.' Exclusively in that order."
Quill rubbed his temples, clearly overwhelmed. "Well, I tell you what, that's gonna wear real thin, real fast," he sighed.
"Hey!" Quill suddenly yelled, drawing the group's attention. A guard was examining Quill's Walkman, the headphones already over his ears as a song played. "Hey! Put that away," Quill yelled, panic rising in his voice. The electric door started to close, and Quill jumped into the room
"Hey! Listen to me, you big blue bastard. Take those headphones off. That's mine. Those belong to the impound. That tape and that player is mine! Hooked on a Feeling, Blue Swede, 1973. That song belongs to me!" Quill's voice was a mix of anger and pleading, but the blue-skinned guard remained unfazed.
Without warning, the guard took an electric stick and tazed Quill. Sylia jumped back as Quill yelled in pain before collapsing to the floor. She watched in horror as the guard continued to taze him, the electric shocks making Quill's body convulse.
Sylia's discomfort was palpable as she whined to the guards, feeling exposed in her underwear and bra as they pushed her into the washing chamber. The harsh spray of orange liquid hit her unexpectedly, knocking her back against the wall. She winced at the impact, trying to maintain some dignity despite the humiliation.
After the forceful spray, she was ushered into a room where yellow prison uniforms awaited. Sylia looked at the uniform offered to her, her discomfort evident.
"Do you, maybe, have anything backless? I feel very uncomfortable when my wings are covered," she asked the guard politely, hoping for a compromise. His glare and silence spoke volumes, and she sighed softly. "I'll take that as a no then."
Turning away, she noticed Gamora already dressed in her uniform, sitting composed on a wooden crate. Sylia appreciated the separation of genders during the washing process, a small courtesy in an otherwise dehumanizing situation.
Avoiding Gamora's gaze, Sylia quickly pulled on the yellow tank top and pants. She could feel Gamora's eyes on her, adding to her discomfort. The uniform felt restrictive, and she missed the freedom of her usual attire.
Sylia grunted as a rolled-up bed was shoved into her stomach. She and Gamora were escorted back with the other inmates into the main part of the prison. Nervously, Sylia scanned the diverse array of aliens passing by, their stares filled with suspicion and hostility. Her anxiety spiked as voices erupted around them, hurling insults and projectiles at Gamora.
"Murderer! Coming for you first, Gamora! You're dead! You're scum!" The shouts rang out, echoing through the crowded prison hall.
"Like I said, she's got a rep. A lot of prisoners here have lost their families to Ronan and his goons. She'll last a day, tops," Rocket explained grimly, his tone laced with a mixture of resignation and concern.
Quill glanced at the chaos unfolding around them, worry etching lines on his face. "The guards will protect her, right?" he asked, seeking reassurance.
"They're here to stop us from getting out. They don't care what we do to each other inside," Rocket replied bluntly, his eyes fixed on the turmoil directed at Gamora.
"Whatever nightmares the future holds, are dreams compared to what's behind me." Gamora told Quill. A large blue guy stalked up to the group, Groot puffed out his chest.
"Check out the new meat. I'm gonna slather you up in Gunavian jelly, and go to town." Не chuckled as he eyed Quill up and down. Sylia quickly followed Groot and Rocket as they intervened, stepping forward to protect Quill from the menacing blue alien. Her heart raced with adrenaline as Groot deftly incapacitated the aggressor, lifting him off the ground by his nose, causing him to groan in pain.
"Let's make something clear. This one here is our booty! You wanna get to him, you go through us! Or, more accurately, we go through you!" Rocket declared defiantly to the onlookers. When Groot dropped him on the floor Sylia felt a pang of guilt as she hurried past the alien sprawled on the floor, mumbling a quick apology under her breath.
Sylia followed Gamora silently into their shared cell, the tense atmosphere hanging heavy around them. As they settled on the bench, Sylia couldn't help but notice the stares and hostile whispers from the other inmates gathered outside their door. She glanced over at Gamora, admiring her stoic composure in the face of such open hostility.
Her heart raced as an inmate slammed into the cell door, spewing threats of violence. Sylia flinched at the aggression, feeling a surge of empathy for Gamora's predicament. She looked down at her lap, unsure of what to say or do in such a volatile situation.
"I'm sorry you have to go through that," Sylia said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know what it's like to have an awful father." She reached out, placing a comforting hand on Gamora's shoulder in a gesture of solidarity.
There was a moment of quiet understanding between them, a shared recognition of the burdens they each carried. After a while, Sylia rose from the bench, laying her rolled-up bedsheet on the ground to serve as a makeshift pillow. She settled down, hoping to find some semblance of rest amidst the turmoil of their surroundings.
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro