ＲＯＣＫＥＴ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beatupgrass) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2017-06-06 06:03 pm
beatupgrass) wrote in entrancelogs2017-06-06 06:03 pm
"The song 'If I Had a Hammer' is geared toward people who don't have hammers."
Who: Everyone's favorite trash panda AND YOU
Where: Wonderland's grounds
When: All of June, between events
Rating: PG-13, because Rocket's mouth
Format: Prose/Action (I'll match yours)
Summary: Rocket's dealing with some leftover canon update things and his best bet as far as returning to normalcy is working on his projects, both for himself and for whoever's requested them of him.
The Story:
a. if i had a hammer- peter, paul, and mary
Despite the numerous other projects that have been delayed due to events or Rocket just not feeling it, he's quick to jump on this particular request from Georgia. Not because he's picking favorites or anything, but because the challenge is unique and the results might benefit him too.
He has a motorcycle kicked up on the grounds with tools and odd contraptions sprawled around it, while he diligently works under it, despite the copious amounts of grease now coating his fur. Not far from where he's working, a CD player is blasting a song that he keeps humming along with.
Despite being absorbed in his work and the loudness of the music, if someone investigates the cheesy 60's music and off-key humming, Rocket barely breaks his stride before speaking up. "Got a question for you. How much do you weigh?"
b. you're the inspiration- chicago
Usually, Rocket stays in his room to work on his projects, and that holds true, but it's a really bad idea to test them inside, except when he wants to prove a point to someone over the network, ergo he's taken several out with him onto the checkerboard hills to test their effectiveness against makeshift targets and just work out some kinks.
There's a wide variety laid out around him as he adjusts and reconfigures each and every one before and after he tests them. The spread is varied too- some new prototype aero-rigs built with shoddier material than the ones he made back home, but good in a pinch, a few things that look like landmines, even more things that look like bombs. A few different types of gun, several melee weapons, at least one thing that looks like an arrow. Quite a few of them are things people have requested of him, if you're looking for an update or interested in seeing what he has.
And, of course, his CD player is back and blaring cheesy music. "This song's stupid," you might hear him say when this song first comes up. Later, you might actually catch him belting it.
Well, maybe not belting it more like loudly humming it and occasionally butting in with whatever words he actually remembers.
c. sledgehammer- peter gabriel
At the end of every day, once Rocket has dealt with his projects and put them aside, he can found by the lake, which is a really strange place for him. He's not really a fan of water, in general, but it's a nice, relaxing place to unwind and get the grease off his fur and chill out with his tunes.
...His tunes that are rapidly starting to get on his nerves a bit, though, like mold, most of them are growing on him. It's just that his attempts to get the closets to cough up "Peter Quill's music" has essentially led him to an unwieldy collection of CDs featuring artists named Peter or bands fronted by people named Peter, and he was too drunk to remember what Rip said about what kind of music that shit was, so this is what he has now. Embrace it.
But as far as anyone else can see right now, there's three feet worth of fuzzy raccoonoid sitting at the edge of the lake, trying to get grease off the top of his head with the combination of a rag and his own bare hands, while humming along to some Peter Gabriel. It's disturbingly (and unfortunately, in his case) adorable.
Where: Wonderland's grounds
When: All of June, between events
Rating: PG-13, because Rocket's mouth
Format: Prose/Action (I'll match yours)
Summary: Rocket's dealing with some leftover canon update things and his best bet as far as returning to normalcy is working on his projects, both for himself and for whoever's requested them of him.
The Story:
a. if i had a hammer- peter, paul, and mary
Despite the numerous other projects that have been delayed due to events or Rocket just not feeling it, he's quick to jump on this particular request from Georgia. Not because he's picking favorites or anything, but because the challenge is unique and the results might benefit him too.
He has a motorcycle kicked up on the grounds with tools and odd contraptions sprawled around it, while he diligently works under it, despite the copious amounts of grease now coating his fur. Not far from where he's working, a CD player is blasting a song that he keeps humming along with.
Despite being absorbed in his work and the loudness of the music, if someone investigates the cheesy 60's music and off-key humming, Rocket barely breaks his stride before speaking up. "Got a question for you. How much do you weigh?"
b. you're the inspiration- chicago
Usually, Rocket stays in his room to work on his projects, and that holds true, but it's a really bad idea to test them inside, except when he wants to prove a point to someone over the network, ergo he's taken several out with him onto the checkerboard hills to test their effectiveness against makeshift targets and just work out some kinks.
There's a wide variety laid out around him as he adjusts and reconfigures each and every one before and after he tests them. The spread is varied too- some new prototype aero-rigs built with shoddier material than the ones he made back home, but good in a pinch, a few things that look like landmines, even more things that look like bombs. A few different types of gun, several melee weapons, at least one thing that looks like an arrow. Quite a few of them are things people have requested of him, if you're looking for an update or interested in seeing what he has.
And, of course, his CD player is back and blaring cheesy music. "This song's stupid," you might hear him say when this song first comes up. Later, you might actually catch him belting it.
Well, maybe not belting it more like loudly humming it and occasionally butting in with whatever words he actually remembers.
c. sledgehammer- peter gabriel
At the end of every day, once Rocket has dealt with his projects and put them aside, he can found by the lake, which is a really strange place for him. He's not really a fan of water, in general, but it's a nice, relaxing place to unwind and get the grease off his fur and chill out with his tunes.
...His tunes that are rapidly starting to get on his nerves a bit, though, like mold, most of them are growing on him. It's just that his attempts to get the closets to cough up "Peter Quill's music" has essentially led him to an unwieldy collection of CDs featuring artists named Peter or bands fronted by people named Peter, and he was too drunk to remember what Rip said about what kind of music that shit was, so this is what he has now. Embrace it.
But as far as anyone else can see right now, there's three feet worth of fuzzy raccoonoid sitting at the edge of the lake, trying to get grease off the top of his head with the combination of a rag and his own bare hands, while humming along to some Peter Gabriel. It's disturbingly (and unfortunately, in his case) adorable.
no subject
"Oh come on, it's not that bad, is it?" The engine grease on him does call to mind a creature well on his way to becoming a spokesman for Dawn dish soap and its wildlife cleansing properties.
no subject
A long while.
no subject
And then keeps talking like he isn't doing that. "I've spent over half my life messing around with engines and this part always sucks."
no subject
Naoki crouches down, looking at the lake's surface.
"You can't just get in the water, huh?"
no subject
"I'm not really a fan of water."
no subject
Naoki, just for an instant, wonders if he should just push Rocket into the water to help him along. But that passes right through his mind in a flash because it would be mean. It would also be stupid.
no subject
And takes an insane amount of time when he's particularly filthy, but whatever. No one can judge him... Well, they can, but he doesn't have to listen to it.
no subject
Naoki shrugs, but then looks Rocket over.
"Soap that breaks down grease might help, too."
no subject
Things are just so much simpler in space- including getting grease off of you.
no subject
no subject
It has less to do with being a greasy furbag and more with all the shortcuts and half-assing he's had to do with his projects. This tech is terrible.
no subject
He's got a feeling Rocket would never answer if he could get away with it. He also has a feeling he'll be told no, but at least he can say he did his best to get the little guy clean.
no subject
Because he is seriously between a rock and the bottom of the lake right now. He could call someone he actually trusts, but that's embarrassing. This guy is right here. Convenient. And if worse comes to worse, Rocket has a gun in comfortable reach.
"To hell with it. Get over here."
no subject
He moves on over closer and crouches beside Rocket, taking the rag from him.
"Don't worry. Shouldn't take long."
no subject
"Just... don't touch the back of my neck, all right?" He's grumbling under his breath, but even still, he makes sure the words are perfectly clear. "I might take your hand off."
no subject
His curiosity stems from the fact that his own back-of-the-neck is taken up by a horn.
no subject
"When people sneak up behind you and you look like me... that's usually the first thing they grab for." It's an innocuous explanation, and not a lie in the slightest. It just doesn't delve too deeply into the truth.
no subject
"Okay. I get that."
He scrubs at Rocket's head for another minute or two before stopping and sitting back.
"How's that?"
no subject
"Yeah, that's good." A beat or two passes, the pause expectant, because of course there's supposed to be something that comes after the favor is finished. Rocket finally sighs and gives in. "...Thanks."
no subject
"Any time." He gives him a thumbs up.