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Get out of my apartment.
'Yeah, yeah.' he grumbled quietly to himself as he thought over this morning, eh, not particularly any different than any other morning he guessed. Good to know that at least in Avalon his life had changed very little. At least for Zapp it was a comfort in itself. Gorging himself in modern society's lust, greed, and gluttony. Could life get better? Alright, so maybe he was missing Libra just a little, or maybe just the pay from it all. It was hard to say. On the plus side his master was nowhere within sight and he hadn't been used as as an official werewolf perch™ in a long time.
Luix, Avalon's main district for entertainment and excitement. He'd spent a lot of time hitting up the bars, gambling at the casinos and the stadium (both illegally and non). Didn't change the fact he was broke and in desperate need of a job. Ugh working. Gross. Sure, maybe he could get some work at one of these little cafes but he'd already been tossed out of one of them for flirting with the waitresses too much. 'Avalon has no class.' Boredom now, just boredom, where to go what to do. To think he was actually a bit underwhelmed by seemingly limitless possibilities.
And the best places to visit were only open at night. 'Da** it.'
Stuffing his hands into his pockets he chewed the end of his cigar hanging from his lips. “Gotta be an easy way to make some cash around here, mercenary work.....I guess is pretty overrated in a world like this.” He didn't want to return to the apartment yet. Nothing wrong with it, just Leo and his sister now that'd been one heck of a reunion. They were happy though, all that mattered, and he generally fled before he could feel like a third-wheel. Not that Zapp could feel awkward, no, of course not.
”What in the hell does anyone do around here for money!?” he suddenly shouted to the heavens startling at least three people around him on the sidewalk. He didn't notice, and continued on his marry way, huffing and puffing away a few small clouds of smoke. Stupid Avalon.
The scent of food in the air was enough to gain a growl from his stomach. Stopping he searched and turned the inside of his pants and coat pockets inside out in search of..... a quarter, paperclip, and lint. “That is it.......today is the day...this is how I die.” Zapp walked forward wobbling a bit back and forth until he tripped over the curb and flailed forward quickly landing on a bench nearby. Folded backwards at a near-inhuman impossibly angle, backwards over the back of the bench, the top of his head nearly touching the seat. Cigar still clasped in his teeth the white-haired man flailed and let out a frustrated growl. He didn't move though, why bother, or maybe he couldn't move... Whichever. His soul slowly joined the smoke leaking from his lips.
From the amazing Silence~
Rocket had managed to find himself an apartment in Luix, which was natural - he was too used to places like this. Drinking, gambling (illegal and non)....a place like this basically felt like home to him. And then there were the weirdos. This was one of the few places that Rocket could legitimately make a case for not being the weirdest thing around, and enjoyed it quite a bit - though he couldn't say that he didn't still occasionally get an odd look or two, what he was seemed almost....normal. Which was frightening, in a sense: he'd always turn a corner and live in fear that someone from his past would pop up to haunt him. In best case, it'd just be Blackjack, who would be a pain in the ass, but not exactly a dire case. In worst case, it'd be Lylla, and haha, no, no desire to see her again, no thank you, goodbye, none of that. None of his ex-girlfriends would be good, actually, considering he'd spent a good week outrunning them at one point when they'd united to kill him.
He hadn't told all the other Guardians about the story, because they didn't need to know that he'd spent a decent amount of time with at least two princesses of different planets who he loved and left.....after taking their money, of course. He had his obligations, and one of them was fulfilling his greed. As expected. Anyone who knew him even a bit wouldn't have expected anything less. Still - he'd taken to trying to dodge his past, even if his past didn't seem to want to particularly dodge him. He'd felt all that conflict about being the cause of everything that happened involving Ego, stealing those batteries, ruining everything....and then Quill had gone so far as to say that it wasn't all his fault, and they were all equally as guilty....and then the universe, being as strange as it was, decided to give him even more mercy: Yondu turned up alive.
In all actuality, he wasn't sure why the universe was suddenly being nice to him now. Maybe it was because he was making the attempt to keep his nose clean....which it surprisingly, was. Hm. Wait a minute. Rocket licked his paws, running them across his snout. Even cleaner. That's good. Still, he was cheating so much, and the question now was 'when will karma catch up to me again?' He expected something horrible to happen. Someone else would die. He'd screw something else up. Gamora would show up and ruin--alright, the one wasn't legitimately life-threatening, but still.
He'd distracted himself, however. Distracted himself by doing what he used to call 'freak-watching'. It was a lot better when it was the days back with Groot and he could point at a kid and go ha, walk by yourself, ya little gargoyle! And....well, Groot would never find it funny, but he was someone to play off of, at least. Rocket bit his lip as he tried to keep his comments inside now, staring at everyone disparagingly.
Look at that guy. D'ast, he's so big that he'd probably take up three bus seats. Eatin' enough, big fella? ..... And the bingo club over there is out for their walk. Oh, man. What a delight to see them before they go off to the great beyonder in the sky. And there was--
A guy with a cigarette in his mouth. Seemed normal, up until he snapped, and Rocket instinctively put his hand to his side on his gun. That was....dramatic. And the guy wasn't done yet. He'd reached into his pocket, and apparently whatever he was getting out of there wasn't money. Rocket stifled a snort as the guy melted over the bench overdramatically. Good God.
He paused, and then let out a sigh. Was it just building up good karma in return to do things for freaks in need that he didn't know? He didn't want everything to start going by the wayside now, so....alright. He tugged on the apron of the hot-dog guy, holding up a bit of money. "Yo. Two." The guy seemed unphased. Must've been here a little. Ya start to become one of those 'I've seen it all' people after a while, huh?
With that, he took the hot dogs, one in each paw, and walked over to the bench, prodding the guy in the face with the end of one of them. "Hey, drama queen. Take this and don't die. Corpses smell bad and I'm not in the mood to tolerate passing by one of those today."
If crazy equals genius
Dramatic may as well have been Zapp's middle name. Along with multiple other names anyone he worked with would gladly offer up if asked, but screw them. He remained upside down, cigar clinched in his teeth and slowly sliding until his head rested against the seat of the bench, legs still sort of danging off the back. Zapp oozed a little more forward, back eventually resting on the seat, this was a little more comfortable. Anyone who sat on him would get a cigar up the butt.
The same perpetual circle, this was his life, he was never going to be anything...or do anything...
False tears rolled down his face. 'Master was right, I am just a sorry sack of sh**..... unfit to exist in this world, or the next. Or the other... whichever world...screw them...screw everything!' he groaned peering up at his growling belly. 'No one asked your opinion!' he hung his head back off the edge again and began to slowly deflate again.
Poke. His eyes cracked open slowly, nose twitching. Silver-green eyes peered down the length of- “OH sweet Marry that's got to be the most beautiful wiener I've ever seen in my life!” he looked further, why was it attached to a raccoon? Talking raccoon, a bit odd, but far more pleasant on the eyes than those questionably shaped mushroom men back home. A talking raccoon with the promise of FOOD! ”The gods of chow have heard my pathetic shrieking and come to my aid!” He either missed the part about corpses and the smell, or simply didn't comment on it.
Zapp attempted to twist himself over but proceeded to ungracefully land on his face instead. Immediately popping back up he clapped his hands together and bowed forward. “Your hospitality won't go unrewarded.” he then (attempted) to grab and snatch the hot-dog away from this.... probably perfectly harmless stranger...right? Well, you only live once they say. Alright, in truth the thought hadn't occurred to him even once that this intent could be even moderately malicious. Besides, he had already taken a large bite out off one end and was chewing like a ravenous wolf.
Cigar resting between his fingers as he decided to slow down a moment and look over his savior again. Raccoon right, kind of like a rodent or something? Eh, he didn't have a problem with it, why should he? “Thanks trash-bandit I owe ya one. Say ya didn't get these out of the trash didja?” he asked mouth-full before cackling. “I'm kidding.” probably not that funny; though knowing Zapp even if it were true it probably wouldn't have mattered much.
From the amazing Silence~
This was over-the-top even on his standards, and....honestly it probably would be on Quill and Drax's standards too, which was really saying something given some of their less finer moments relishing in dumbness and drama, endearing as it was. Though he wasn't able to keep himself from snorting at 'that's the most beautiful weiner I've seen in my life.' That's. That's what she said. Rocket Raccoon, truly you are a mature man of respectable humor letting out half an amused snort at that baby material.
The guy fell over, and then proceeded to bow to him, saying his hospitality would not go unrewarded. Uh.... huh. This was probably a mistake, wasn't it? Oh, this was most definitely a mistake, but it was far too late to go back on it now. The guy was already eating the hot dog like it was the best food he'd ever tasted in his life - and Rocket could note that he'd probably ordered from that guy before and it was sub-par at best. Now the guy was looking him over, and calling him....
What was WITH humans and calling him some variety of trash-something or other? First it was Quill with his little 'trash panda' and 'oh, it's worse, it's so much worse' which had upset him at one point since it was in the midst of their fighting, but....alright, bias counted for a lot, so he probably wasn't phased by that too much anymore. Even if he'd still act it, mostly because he wasn't going to get all soft and mushy now, endearingly insulting nickname or no. "I don't eat garbage, humie. And so much as I'd find the idea funny, I'm not going to dirty my paws digging around in the trash for anything to feed to someone else. That's fresh. I'm a raccoon, not a....trash bandit."
He tilted his head to the side, taking a bite out of the one hot dog he'd gotten for himself. "Gotta ask -- gid you just get fired from work, or something? That kind of dramatic production is usually reserved for big moments when all hope is lost. Things like that. Unless you're just that kind of guy who freaks at everything, in which case you fit in with 90% of the other people I speak to on frequent basis." He wasn't wrong. They couldn't deny it. One of the team mottos was probably 'Guardians of the Galaxy: We're going to claim we have a lot of chill when we really don't. At all. But it's nice to pretend.'
If crazy equals genius
Zapp sucked in a break between one bite and another that sounded a little like a low chuckle as his grin returned to his face. As if he didn't know, he doubted these little guys really dug around in the trash, at least if he were from Hellsalem's Lot. Then again who could be sure? These animal-guys rarely seemed to act like their...- well, Zapp wasn't entirely sure what normal animals were to them. Was there a way to ask what it was like being compared to actual animals without it sounding rude? Did Zapp care if he sounded rude? Probably not. Maybe later.
“Heh, I'd doubt it, don't worry.” he nodded matter-of-factly before opening one eye. Raccoon, well alright, not a normal one that's for sure but what was normal anyway? This guy was not the strangest thing Zapp had ever seen and wouldn't be the last.
“Huh?” Blinking several times Zapp stared at Rocket a little while longer before taking another bite of the hot-dog and chewing slower as if for once considering what he might say. Brows wrinkled his shoulders rose and fell. After swallowing he groaned. “Man, I dunno isn't everyone here basically in the same da** boat? Cept I am used to crap like Avalon, just not having to find new work, mercenary work and 'killing sh*t' isn't really listed on most resumes.” he snickered.
Mercenary work wasn't really paying in the city, he'd likely have to head out to one of those smaller towns. “Wait...I'm not dramatic, I am the perfect level of drama thank you very much.” he cocked his head back as if to sneer only to grin a second later.
“So coon-man you got a name or should I call you Fluffy?” he asked before cramming what was left of the food into his face and chewing, at least he was chewing, it was a start. Couldn't deny it, he looked like a fluffy, a part of him wondered how likely it was he'd get bitten – figuratively or not – if he tried to pet this little guy's head? People with tails man, he couldn't imagine –or ...wait..maybe that'd actually be pretty nice. Women dug tails.
"Name's Zapp Renfro."
From the amazing Silence~