"Your mother almost joined their number, it is noble work." The voice of her uncle stirred Kara from her thoughts, near dozing as she lent forwards on her balcony railing, watching the procession of the Warrior Guild move through the streets below. It was not an unusual sight but for its timing. There was no great celebration or moment of Kryptonian pride to commemorate, this was a display of force dressed up as a parade. Such was the pit of illwill in her stomach that she'd had trouble even enjoying the sight of the gallant soldiers in their uniforms, or her breakfast, although she'd managed to find the strength of will to do so all the same.
"You've said, a few times. That is how you all met Uncle Zod." Kara pushed herself up off the railing with a small but warm smile towards her adoptive-father, before pulling him into a brief embrace.
He laughed, the laugh of an old man, old beyond his years in this case, caught in the trap of his own reminiscing. "Indeed, I don't suppose it would take too many flaps of an insect wing to think you might have been standing here as Kara Dru-Zod." Jor-El took a step back from his neice. While her garb was as ever of fine quality, the loose fitting silks wafting around her form, inlaid with golden thread that turned burnished beneath Rao's gaze, was what those of their standing might consider barely more than sleepwear. "We need to get ready, we'll be expected."
"Whatever my name might have been, I'm sure I'd still have ended up cluttering up your life." Kara teased, with a slightly mocking tone, before sighing and nodding to the more business oriented end to Jor-El's words. "Of course, I'll only be a few moments." She could not pretend to understand, or necessarily keep track of very dreadful matter her adoptive-parents seemed to be dealing with of late, but even with her focus largely on her education and trials to follow her parents into the Science League (and a few less productive distractions) she knew that all was not well on Krypton. Whispered news out of the Hinterlands spoke of a building catastrophe, and within the shining spires of Krypton's cities the rule of the Klerics had become increasingly draconian, enough that even those who spent their days in the with minds in the Luminarium and their nights in the glitz and glamour of Kandor had begun to feel the discontent bubbling through society, no longer just confined to the Worker's Guild.
Jor-El gave her a reassuring nod, before leaving her alone once again on the balcony extending out of her bedroom. She did not spend that much time home these days, but her uncle and aunt, turned adoptive parents, largely kept it how she had left it, all the furnishing the teenage scion of one of the Science League's most notable families could want. She paused only briefly to examine her reflection in her dresser holo-mirror, having already ensured she was happy with her refreshed appearance before resting on her balcony. The length of her blonde hair was woven up into an extensive tail which reached far down her back, trailing a moment behind her as she vanished into her wardrobe.
Her outfit was another matter, several failed attempts at something she could tolerate for more than a few different angles soon lay scattered on her floor before she was once again in front of her mirror.
A deep blue bodysuit covered her to her mid-thigh where below she wore boots of red beneath her knee, demonstrating the main colours of her house. Her chest, emblazoned with the crest of House El in white and yellow, trailed into a back half-cape, giving the impression of a short jacket even if it was still a part of the bodysuit itself with detailing at her waist and thighs picked out in gold. It could be considered the current bleeding edge of her generation's fashion on Krypton, as with most of her attire, a recent purchase.
A few brief twists and turns in the mirror confirmed she was more than ready to leave. She'd not been a slender child, crueler peers taunting about her being better suited to the hard work of lesser guilds. Now with the blossoming of young adulthood, she was fairly safe to admit she wouldn't trade places for a little past bullying.
She pondered with the presence of the Warrior Guild in the city would mean Val-Zod would be present, their respective parents had always hoped -
Kara ripped herself from the confines of the sleep with something like an angry gasp. Her mind railed at suddenly crashing back out of memory into the present with the fuge of confusion she had felt many times.
Vapid, Stupid GirlThe words tinged her thoughts, not her own voice, but her mind soon adapts and considers them her own thoughts. True, of course, to think of how much time she spent on such frivalous things when her homeword had been so at risk?
She threw the heavy blanket that covered her in slightly chilled quarters that had become her home while aboard the Milano in an angry grimace, the blanket coming apart into two pieces at force of her uncontrolled strength, which only brought another exhalation of self-exasperation as she suddenly found herself in a tangle of synthetic shreds. It wasn't the first time she had lost control of her abilities since her arrival in the present, but it still aggrevated her even alongside the lingering annoyance of her dream. Ever since she had tumbled listlessly through the liminal space between realities she'd had difficulty seperating the waking world from the twists and turns of her own mind.
At least she hoped it was still her mind.
Kara flung open her closet, more a space between the bulkheads of the ship, with more controlled force than she had rid herself of her blanket. She paused with her fingers tracing over the first outfit she found among her limited collection. Her entire wardrobe had been crafted for her by her Symbioship, at least during her travels, at her direction. Which is why it was strange she didn't remeber selecting this one, the outfit from her dream. She must have simply forgotten, it was a pleasant enough memory, one of the last few good ones, it made sense she would have wanted it, she convinced herself.
It took her a moment to change and study herself in the far more modest mirror available in her current quarters. She appeared much as she had in her memory apart from her hair. She'd cut the elegant mane of gold down, or maybe it had happened in her journey, she couldn't quite remember. Now the gold fell to just barely above her shoulders even when let loose. For a moment she couldn't decide if she like that or not. Why
had she done that?
Kara snorted in annoyance at her own reflection before storming from her chamber, with her focus on her emotions more than faking a sense of normalcy she drifted in the air rather than walked. The ship was dark, running off the last planetbound chronology they had encountered it was the depths of night, but even through the layers of ship she could hear some amount of activity within the Milano's cockpit.
"Hey, Peter," Kara murmered, with a slighlty tired voice she put on to suggest she'd drowsily awoken rather than being wrenched from an uncomfortable recollection, stretching as she slipped into the jumpseat closest to the primary chair the man inhabited as she flicked away at holographic controls.
"Kara, can't sleep?" He barely turned his head for a brief greeting smile before returning to this work. Ever since the Guardians had rather unceremoniously deposited the Collector back at his own complex, nabbing his hoarded celestial data in the process, he'd been busy working away at getting the Milano to their eventual destination.
"I'm not sure I even need to anymore, maybe it's just a habit?" She mused, looking out of the foreward viewing dome, the glittering light of a billion, billion stars staring back at her. "A bit scary to think about, having to fill all that time." She added, only half joking.
"Not a bad idea to keep doing it then, keep you mortal." He teased, but only slightly, there was some true advise beneath the light tone. The man born far more mortal than she, yet still thrust into a host of abilities that would forever set him apart from the world he had once known. "Especially if you get floating around the place, always makes me double check I've not busted the gravity." He more earnestly joked this time, with a slight grin, that brought the briefest chuckle through her foul mood.
"I'd apologise, but I think it's proven more than worth giving you a brief fright already." She expected another lighthearted retort, but instead found Peter frowning at a red light that had appeared on the holographic displays he'd been working on. "What is it?" She asked, severity and curiosity mingling in her tone where there had been humor.
"Distress signal." Peter's fingers drifted over the red dot, the cast of its light flickering off and on across his features. "Out of our way, and no good reason to suspect they'd even appreciate a visit from those wanted by the Nova Corps." His features were writ with the dilemma that Kara had begun to recognise even in their relatively brief acquaintence.
"Rocket would say we don't work for free, that we've got our own business to attend to." Rocket would have said that, but it was also partly her own feelings. She'd been sent to this reality, this moment, to protect what little remainded of her family, and delays flew against that aim.
"He would." Peter admitted, his finger still held above the prompt to dismiss the hail, but not quite pressing down. "But you know what our other friend would say." His eys flicked up to her, and she pursed her lips in grudging acceptance.
"I am Groot." She sighed.
"Exactly." Peter spoke once, his finger punched into the display over the 'Accept' icon.
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