|Finding More Than Scrap|
Summary: Dani finds an unexpected presence in the scrapyard. Then she meets its owner. Tanks happen.
Who: Moonstar, Rocket Raccoon
When: October 27th, 2020
Where: Mabase Scrapyard
Nowhere in her intentionally wide-open set of expectations did she envision descending an elevator and finding herself beneath a floating chunk of city. As Mabase rises above her, and the squeaky lift of the Scrapyard whines to a stop, Dani finds herself staring at the substrata of a massive city, just sort of suspending there in the void. And it is a void, certainly not air, or any atmosphere she's familiar with. This place is easily in her top ten weirdest places.
Cyclops' new summer home still wins. But it's close, is the point.
Moonstar just sweeps her head to take it all in, and when the lift finally lurches to indicate it wants her to leave now, she staggers just a hint before stepping off. "It's like a boneyard... for civilization." She notes wryly - and gives a low sigh. She has felt naked without her rifle ever since she arrived, and even if she can summon forth a bow in a pinch, there's nothing like a solid weapon to give the reassurance that yes - you can murder the invisible demon about to eat your face. Is that why she's here?
She totally didn't get separated from Tabitha and Piotr because she pressed the wrong button. That would be foolish and naive. And she's Moonstar!(TM) Leader* of the New Mutants! She's the responsible one!
For those that seek comfort in Mabase with as much familiarity as they can be surrounded with, the very nature of the Scrapyard might seem almost nightmarish. It's a glimpse into the machinations of Twisted, perhaps, and shows just where things go that have no place or immediate use. Surreal, dark, and chaotic. Even sound is peculiar, at least seemingly; this is noticeable when a clatter of a chunk of small concrete tumbles down the side of a tilted building shell and winds up lost in a pile of rubble.
There IS, at the very least, the remnant of an auto station near the final resting position of the elevator that looks as though it may serve some purpose amidst the lost vestiges of times and places mostly forgotten. Beyond, somewhere within the labyrinthine twists and turns ahead, there is a low hollow growl lost to the darkness hinting at some sort of hidden danger. This place should be relatively safe, shouldn't it? The sound of something cracking soon follows and the splintering sound might liken to the mental image of rent bone.
As it turns out, few people are as experienced with foreboding, nightmarish surroundings as Moonstar. While the girl was not expecting this setting when she got into the elevator, she can work with it. That's not a chill running down her spine at the sound of a low growl in the distance. It's just cold. She should've brought her jacket, obviously.
The young woman steps off of the lift, which sways and shakes behind her with the loss of her weight. She gives it a quick glare over her shoulder, as if it should know better, and then takes in her surroundings, more alert. Husks that were once vehicles, sections of old buildings, and even a few microwaves and street signs litter the area in haphazard piles that could charitably be described as 'sorted'. At least like is with like, for what it's worth. The young mutant steps towards the pile of street debris and fishes out a long piece of rebar that she could use as an improvised quarterstaff if the need arose. It's better than nothing, and she knows a thing or two about spears and staves.
But mostly about spears.
"Hello?! Is anyone there?" Dani raises her voice and calls out, ignoring all horror movie protocols. A small part of her considers cracking a joke at her own expense, but she decides professional and courteous is the way to do this. "The lighting in here sucks!" ...Well done, Moonstar. Well done. "Sorry! I meant to say you should fire your decorator." Diplomacy First.
"Out of a cannon. Into the sun."
There follows a heavy approach, a shape clicking with each footfall, stepping out from behind a pile of Stuff to reveal a devilish beast. Standing shoulder-high to the average person is a bulky creature, large, with naturally-armored head, shoulders, and back. Spines of some sort stick free from the beast's back and its eyes literally glow. Furthermore, there seem to be veins and patches along its body that also glow a sickening green. For a couple of seconds it merely seems to stare.
Its jaws spread open with a split, vertically, to reveal a rather large maw. It bellows thunderously and splatters of green glowing goo strike a few items before it, upon the ground; a sizzle of immediate corrosion sets in.
"SHADDUP! I can't bloody 'ear meself fink," speaks a voice. The quadrupedal monster appears to want to bellow once more, but instead turns and bounds off out of sight once again...but not without upsetting a pile of sorted goods that becomes a very noisy clattering yet very short lived avalanche. A much much smaller figure steps after, following, with arms lifted in exasperation. A deep sigh deflates the ringtailed critter as it pulls a custom pair of headphones away from its noggin. "I'm not cleaning vis up." The smaller figure has not yet seen or heard the newcomer.
Danielle Moonstar does what any seasoned, veteran superhero does when faced with a massive monster that looks like a Rancor ate a Terminator. She freezes and doesn't make any sudden movements *whatsoever*. It's downright heroic, the way she stands perfectly still and hopes it forgets she's there. Majestic, even.
And then it leaves, scared off by some Brit, and she gives a huge sigh of relief. She hadn't even noticed she was holding her breath, but here we are. She turns to look towards the voice with what she's sure is a winning smile, when she stops and blinks. "...A raccoon?!?" The word comes out of her mouth before she can even HOPE to think better of it. "...This is a little weird, even for MY Tuesdays."
As she looks at the ringtail, something tickles at the back of her brain. It's probably nothing. She's not cleaning that up either.
There is an immediate flick of a rounded ear in irritation as the lines of the fuzzy one's mouth set into a frown upon that muzzle. Without even looking, there comes a measure of directed temper that is nearly explosive. "And 'ow abouts you get va flark outta 'ere, bloody FECKING 'ell; I 'ave a right t'be in 'ere and va last fing wot I need is some pretentious arse'ole 'aving fun wif steroetypes!" The ringtail puts the headphones around his neck and then pulls out a metal box, flips a panel open, and begins digging around inside a mass of wires and doesn't even pause to catch his breath.
"'Oh, look, it's a lih'uh raccoon digging about in va junkyard'," mocks he with a higher tone of voice and a bit of sing-song, then pulls his hand free and claps the lid shut loudly. "I'm NOT...a KRUTACKING...RACCOON!" That's definitely Kree language profanity, to any that might be familiar. Spinning on his heels, the bandit-masked furball points a finger across the way toward Dani, "On your bike, ven. Piss o-"
"Oh. Uh. Allo, love. Fought you were somebody else." There's an awkward pause before the not-a-raccoon turns to walk away as nonchalantly as anybody ever could.
"Excuse me?" Moonstar asks when Rocket insults her, and she puts a hand her hip, cocking it to one side in a way that simultaneously shouts 'I don't have time for this shit' and 'my hips are too curvy to care what you think'. Every female superhero learned it back in the 90s. She lets the raccoon realize she's not whomever he thought he was talking to, and then clears her throat when he turns to walk away.
"Are we in Kree space, then, Mr. Not-A-Raccoon? And who were you expecting to roll up with a bike just now?" Oh, someone thinks she gets to ask questions!
"And most importantly of all... where can I get a rifle around here?" A woman with the proper priorities, at last!
Kree space. Rocky mouths the words before he echoes them with a sidelong glance that speaks of confusion and curiosity. "Kree space." He barely has time to begin putting his headphones back on throughout this. "Well, 'at's none of your business, innit? Besides, it's 'alf idiom anyways -- you know, an expression wot 'as a meaning you can't predict from va usual meanings of its constituent elements. Idiom, wif an M. Not a T." Footfalls bring the short thing closer, step by step, with no particular hurry to close the gap. "It's self-explana'ory, innit? I suppose I need'a use Earfling speak, but just vis once. And only for you, love."
Rocky emphasizes his explanation by using his hands to frame each word in the air, in a line, as he says them. "Y'all done did it, now y'all need to git a'fore I start shootin'." It's terrible and glorious and scarily accurate all at the same time, but that's all Dani gets. He's right back to his usual voice.
"Now you try it, ven we can discuss guns. Ready? 'On your bike. On. Your-'" So brave. Much sass. Very fuzz. Wow. "Now 'oo va flark are you?"
"Oh, that's a good one, *you're* objecting to *me*?" Moonstar plants her improvised rebar-staff into the ground and shoots off that look that would and has cowed an actual bull. "You called me pretentious!" Oh, and she's not that? "You don't get to do that until I'm on my third beer, Mr..." She looks the raccoon up and down for a moment, that brain thing happening again.
"Mr... ... ..." Dani's eyes slowly widen, and she takes a step back, ruining her cocksure hip-thing. "...Oh. Oh. You're him. You're the Guardian of the Galaxy." She lifts one gloved hand and starts snapping her fingers, trying to remember the name. Surprisingly, the unstable molecules actually do let her gloved fingers snap. "Rambo... Reinhardt... Random..." No, no, and no. "Rocky!" She snaps her fingers one last time and points directly at the raccoon. "First try!" ... No.
"...Well I'm Dani Moonstar. And I'm here to rescue you." ... Come again?
Danielle is watched from a safe distance from a lower angle with very tired eyes as he listens to rebuttal and realization. It's not that he has a dead stare; there's just a lot in the way of letting any amount of hope shine through. There doesn't seem to be much reaction to the correct deduction of his identity, nor does the introduction chip at the stonewalled gaze. The bit about rescue? That makes him turn away. "Yeah, about vat..."
There is a moment where Rocket seems to want to speak, but is instead thinking about what to say and how exactly to say it. Stooping over to pick up a small television remote controller, the words are slow in sharp contrast to his attitude only seconds ago. "I'm not sure you'uh sure I'm even va right one you want'a save. I was dumped in a city. A city on Earf, and vey all seem va same t'me, so I didn't notice it at first, see. A big city. Lots of wot Earf calls Super'umans about. Somefing I learned quickly wassat it weren't va same Earf I got stranded on. Lots of uhvuhs were va same."
Pressing a few buttons to see if the device does anything, pointing it at various scrapped appliances clearly without power, he adds, "We tried 'ard t'get back 'ome. But ven vat place collapsed in on itself. Wotevuh 'appened rippled froughout va portals to uhvuh worlds wot were managed to be opened and displaced vem, too. So now I'm 'ere, twice removed from me...friends." The sapling in his home is growing quite well due to his care, but it's just not the same.
A look over the shoulder toward Dani is given as the remote is chucked off onto a pile of similar things. "I've met people in me journey wot 'ave me question fings I didn't worry too much about before. So, before you continue, love, answer me one fing: Wot 'appened to Ulysses Cain and Captain Marvel?"
"Right one?" Dani is incredulous at the statement, and she actually puts her hands atop the rebar staff and leans her chin atop her hands, looking down at Rocket as he talks. She lets him elaborate. Lets him explain. How he might not be her same Rocky, because that's totally his name. How he might not find his same friends if she took him back home. How hope is lost because everything just got so mixed up and shuffled up and turned around, all his hope is pinned on a single question. Probably to determine what timeline she's from or somesuch. She's mixed it up with Legion before, it's not her first timeline rodeo. Know what she did to him last time he messed with the timeline? Hit him with a car. The prick.
She means 'The poor kid'. Really.
"Doesn't matter which Rocky you are. If your Ulysses went and fucked off with Eternity like ours..." Language! "...Or if he was able to stop Danvers from doing what she did." She pauses, letting her answer register for just a moment before plowing ahead. "You're here, you don't want to be, and we're the X-men." A single, solitary beat. "You're welcome. Now can I have a gun?"
"It's 'may I'." Seems Rocket isn't so willing to be any less of an jerk even in the face of a potential ally. His demeanor doesn't stop him from lifting his hands to rub his face. "Flark. Okay. I'll play along for now." And he just...walks away to disappear behind the pile he came from. A bunch of clunking and rattling ensues. "Oi! 'ey, Arsebreaf, get ovuh 'ere!" Assbreath? That's a little rude. "Arsebreaf! ...where'd you gone off to- Oh, nonono, MOTHERF-"
A great screech of audio feedback tears through the air completely masking the banging and clattering that the furball furiously makes as he disconnects a wire. The audio feedback loop ends abruptly. Scooping up an armload of cobbled together stuff, the coonguy wobbles back into view just as the beast from before trots up. "Of course vat would be wot calls va dog." The 'dog' promptly pukes up a wet splatter onto the ground along with what might be a chunk of badly damaged metal.
"You stay 'ere and I'll bring you back somefing. No bi'ing Larry. I don't care if 'is fake leg smells like mustard and eggs. You put me right up shite's creek wifout an oar last time. Stay." Wobbling back toward Dani again, the corrosive badass skag watches without moving. Rocky mouths obscenities under his breath about it, though. "You are invi'ing me into your life, Moon-moon. Vis is all on you now. Just sayin'. Let's get you a gun. Gonna need it now."
"Sorry," Dani says without actually meaning it, "I taught animal handling, not English." She cricks her neck a little, watching Rocket as he moves. She raises both eyebrows as she hears him yell from behind a pile, and quietly cups her hand to her lips to check her breath. No, it's fine... And then there's a loud, squealing sound of feedback, and she winces and lets go of her staff to cover her ears.
When the raccoon returns with his 'dog', she stares for a few moments. It barfs acid? ... Sure. Okay. It's some sort of alien thing. That's what Kree Space is like. Full of weird aliens. "I'm not worried; I'm gonna find a way to get you home, and then if you're in the wrong one, we'll find you the right one. You probably don't know this, but doing the impossible used to be our Thursday activity, now we do it seven or eight times before breakfast."
She follows Rocket, because he says he knows where to get a gun. Or implies it heavily. That'll do.
The wandering raccoon winds up dropping a few bits and pieces along the way from the bundle of parts cradled in his arms. These things are rather unceremoniously deposited into a cardboard box and that container is, in turn, hefted up before continuing toward the large lift. "I suppose I'll just 'af a'take you 'ome wif me," says Rocky, but not without a small laugh. "Normally I'm va one wot goes 'ome wif 'ot women," he remarks on the role reversal. "For sex," he clarifies, as if it wasn't obvious.
"Not to see me guns. Well, a gun. All kept fully loaded. Just...putting vat out vere." The short stack boards the lift as casually as one might please. "Just FYI." It seems that the raccoon doesn't have much of a brain to mouth filter. "Not vat we'd be banging. But, I mean, we could." Rocket puts down the box and stands there waiting for Dani to activate the darn thing. "If you wanted." He sticks a finger into his ear and wiggles it a bit while making a squinty face. "Wouldn't want'a be rude."
In her long years with the X-men, Danielle Moonstar has been shot, stabbed, mauled, bit, drowned, melted, hyper-evolved, and even turned into a sentient variety of cheese. So noting that she's gone through a lot of things would be one of the greater understatements of the year. Still, there isn't a lot of precedent for being passive-aggressively propositioned by a vulgar 'British' raccoon. The young woman strides onto the elevator before she turns to look at Rocket with a slow blink. She puts a hand on her hip, and focuses her gaze on him. "...Raccoons are more charming when they can't talk, I think."
Dani slams her hip into the switch, causing the lift to shudder and then slowly, squealing, start to rise. She purses her lips, and crouches down so that she's eye level with Rocket, then beckons him forward with one hand. "I'm only gonna tell you this once, so come nice and close so I'm sure you can hear me." No clearer trap has ever been set.
Rocket's tongue sticks just out of the corner of his mouth as he wiggles his finger more vigorously before pulling it out of his ear. A bit of wax is stuck to his claw and, despite his best casual efforts, it doesn't want to dislodge. A bit of hand-shaking follows, much to his growing annoyance, and isn't able to immediately give his full attention to Dani just yet. He does try to kill time, though, as he clicks one claw to another only to have it wind up stuck to the other.
"Oh, yeah, o'course, just a tick, love. Oh, by va way, you didn't mention which type 'o gun you prefer. Shoots many small rounds, fewer but larguh rounds, even fewer largest rounds; propelled grenades, beam cannons, blastuh pistols, micromunitions. I fink I 'ave somefing wot shoots cannonballs." There's a pause. "I were drunk when I made it." He brushes the wax onto his thigh, then tries to brush it off of his jumpsuit as if the transition would make it easier. It doesn't. It sticks to his hand again.
Irritation creeps into his voice as he stalls while the lift creeps along, but probably not for the reason he should. "Eivuh way, flark me -- I'm still not fully convinced we're from va same universe, but even if not..." With a final flick the wax sails off into the void and the raccoon turns to saunter over closer with a broad shrug. "It would be nice t'ave justifications for shoo'ing fings again, so...I should be treating you more nice."
Finally stepping up to the lowered Moonstar to give her his full attention, the rather tired-looking Rocky shakes his head with a sigh. "So: Sorry." He immediately speaks again, shifting tone, as if to get as far away from the apology as possible. "Now, wot were you gonna say?"
Most mutants that learn to control their powers are satisfied knowing they won't go off on accident, and will do what they want when they want it. Even amongst those that devote much time to training, there are very few who ever attain true mastery of the forces their X-factor enables them to wield. But if there was someone who was close, it would be Moonstar.
Long ago, when control wasn't even on the distant horizon, Dani discovered that her mutant power to manifest people's fears and desires wasn't only limited to illusions, but could also alter reality itself. Since then, she's dedicated her life to controlling her powers so that a tiny misstep could never again turn Westchester County into an Alien Hellscape. She's worked small, worked light, and worked precise, because anything else would be *beyond* reckless.
So when Rocket approaches, Moonstar is prepared to be exacting and efficient in her work, wasting not an ounce of fear. But before she can whisper to him in the exact tone, volume, and unutterable, nightmarish sound that would be necessary to put him off her forever, he has to go and apologize. She blinks, and then sighs, her face falling just a bit. He went and ruined it.
"Nevermind, the moment's gone." The young Cheyenne stands to her full height again, and looks up at the bottom of Mabase as they approach slowly. She has a brief flashback to the 'loading screens' in Mass Effect, and rolls her eyes a bit. Well, this is the part where they talk and get to know each other better because there's nothing else to do in an elevator. She shrugs one shoulder back and cricks her neck. "I usually carry a SIG516, but I learned to shoot on a bolt-action SSG 2000." She side-eyes Rocket as she speaks. "...And a longbow. So ideally something with stopping power; if it's smaller than 45mm, I'm not really interest--" She pauses, winding Rocket's words back in her head a bit. "...Did you say cannonballs?"
Rocket is so very easily distracted with gun talk. While he might otherwise raise a brow at Danielle's 'moment passed' avoidance, this is completely missed as the conversation shifts to something far more practical and fun. After all, firing a weapon of grand destruction is arguably better than having sex, anyway. "Well, yeah. 'alf a ship fell from va sky one day, nobody wif it, it got salvaged and tucked away. I took a swivel gun off'a it. Breech-loading, adapted an auto-feed for it, plasmic propulsion. Can fire small cannonballs about a 'undred metres wif enough punch to penetrate two inches o' steel. Too much energy dissipation on impact, so not good against most armored targets. Might knock a bloke on 'is arse if he don't wind up wif a 'ole frough 'is middle. Va's a lot of weight t'lug about, Moon-moon."
A standard swivel gun weighs about 100 lbs, plus modifications, plus ammunition; it's not that light at all to the point of being impractical in most cases. "I mean, I can 'andle it, but I were va one wot made it." ...while drunk. Rocky picks up the box of goods and begins walking. "Might be easiuh a'take a cab unless you 'appened t'ave a car or ship or...somefing?"
Dani toys with her necklace idly as she listens to Rocket describe his cannonball gun. "...That sounds horribly impractical," she begins as the lift finally enters Mabase proper, "and maybe just a little bit fun." She shakes her head after a moment. "But I was thinking jacketed rounds, probably nothing larger than a Browning M--" The girl pauses, then turns to give Rocket a more critical eye. What would an alien raccoon know of earth corporations? "...Nothing larger than a standard 12.7x99mm round." ...Wait. Do aliens know the metric system? Shit.
Dani holds her thumb and forefinger out, spacing them roughly 100mm apart. "This big?" That could very well be insulting. As the lift shudders to a halt deep in the heart of Mabase, she continues playing with her necklace using her other hand. "And I'm sure I can find us a ride."
There is a strange expectant glance up at Dani when she cuts herself off. This leads to a lifted brow when she's more specific. Then, the fuzzball's brow furrows when she uses her fingers as illustration. Rocky opens his mouth to say something, but has to go and have a god damned conscience since he only JUST admitted that he should be nicer. "I'm... I'm sure I'll 'ave somefing sui'able." Turning his head away, expression frozen in place, the ringtail stares at the ground over his box of parts as he walks along.
It's so hard to talk when you don't immediately have nice things to say but you're trying to be good!
As they exit the elevator shaft, Dani stops fidgeting with her necklace long enough to glance around. Sadly, Dani is one of the few psychics on the X-men that can't read Rocket's mind, but the way he got quiet is enough to know that she did something wrong, if not precisely in what way. Well, hopefully this will make it up to him; she glances around a corner, and with an effort of will, she taps into her mutant power's most practical aspect - she manifests something someone desires into reality.
In this case, she's going for Rocket's dream-car. Provided the space-raccoon doesn't have any particularly potent psychic defenses, the car Rocket most desires should be waiting for them with the license plate "Moonstar" on it. However, on a sneaking suspicion, she'll peek at the car before pointing it out to Rocket. Who knows what kind of crazy madness he wants to drive? If it has teeth or in some other way appears to be alive, she's nixing that right away and replacing it with her own dream-car, a chrome orange McLaren Senna. Strangely, her necklace seems to have gone missing. Funny thing, that.
When it comes to what Rocket likes the most in a vehicle, he tends to have simple tastes, really. It has to be sturdy in case there are fender-benders. It needs good acceleration, too, in case he's in a rush. There needs to be a tool to voice his feelings in case stupid asshole drivers cut him off; most drivers rely on horns for this. And, lastly, there needs to be-
Yeah, okay, it's a tank. It's a fucking tank with hover treads, jet engines, and a main gun way too large to be practical. Also, there's a license plate that says Moonstar, so at least the police know who to blame.
"Hm? You callin' a cab, or-"
Moonstar actually does a double-take as, where she was expecting some sort of... well, wheeled vehicle, there is a *giant hover tank*. Because she has a tiny bit of control, it still comes out in an ostentatious chrome orange color, which amazingly is the least noticeable thing about the vehicle. Oh, she is going to regret this.
And: *Beep-Beep!* The sound of the tank's alarm system being deactivated chirps aloud, and Dani nods her head over towards the vehicle. What the hell. When in space. Do as the spacers do. "It gets me from A to B." Play it cool, Moonstar. Play it cool.
There is a sudden clattering as the ringtail drops his carried box onto the ground and he makes the strangest expression as his muzzle-corners twist into an almost painful and altogether awkward visage. "You drive a krutacking tank?!" The box is hastily scooped up and with a hop into the air attempts to thrust the 40-pound box of metal parts into Danielle's arms so that he can scurry over to the tank, running on all fours, to check it out. His voice melts into a cacophonous spill of excited specs and details that likely mean nothing to Dani. Everything is fine, though, until he disappears from sight around it. There is a suspicious silence; the same kind that lets parents know when children are doing something they shouldn't.
It wouldn't take much investigation to reveal a playful raccoon dry-humping the front viewport, beneath the main gun's barrel, seemingly timing any peeking after him with a slap to the armored body. Whamp!
"Y-You don't?" Dani *almost* manages to keep her composure, but Rocket seems too distracted to be likely to notice her stammer, and she catches the box as it's thrust into her arms. "H-hey!" It's not a lot of weight, but she wasn't expecting it and she staggers backward for a moment. "It's unlocked!" She calls after the raccoon, thinking he's scampering off to jump in and take a look around. However, when instead she watches him disappear from sight and not return, she furrows her brows, and hurries over to the vehicle.
The young mutant gives it a bump on one side, causing a side-hatch to open up; Dani barely dodges a panel that flies at her with the speed of depressurization, and catches her heart in her throat for a moment before taking a breath and setting the box inside the tank's boot. She closes the hatch slowly, taking a moment to steady herself, and then heads around to the front.
She doesn't know what she was expecting to see, but it wasn't that. "...Sheila would prefer if you at least take her out to dinner first." Her tank's name is Sheila?!
Rocky absolutely cackles in a way that would make most villains that know him go cold in fear. "Oh, I'm sure vat can be arranged," adds he before jumping upward, grabbing and swinging around atop the cannon, then leaping off to land beside Moonstar. "Quick, get in. It's not too far away, but vis is going'a be ~epic~." Ever see a kid excited to go to a theme park? It's like that, only there's an unmistakable sense of danger that rolls off of the raccoon in waves.
If the main gun actually functions, there could be trouble; there's no way Rocket can possibly resist the temptation to try it out.
With a quick hop into the side-entry hatch, Moonstar gives Rocket a look, and then takes the driver's seat. "Oh, you thought you were driving?" Her voice sounds a bit playful, but also there is a very strong sense coming off of Rocket that Dani would rather not get to the bottom of. Thankfully, the main gun isn't loaded. "Bold of you."
She'll wait for the raccoon to get in, and then close all the hatches and turn the thing on proper. Amazingly, the advanced tech is not difficult for her at all; there are SOME benefits to being on a team with someone who's dating Warbird.
Good lord, that's actually a thing that's happening. What is Dani's world coming to? "Let's stick to travel for now, hmm?" Dani doesn't actually KNOW that the main gun isn't loaded.
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