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WHO: Yondu Udonta | OTA
WHAT: Yondu has a search for some company derailed by a mirage
WHEN: A week and a half after the explosion
WHERE: A dingier part of the city
WARNINGS & NOTES: References to sex work and references to dying

Yondu's heart isn't what you'd call open. Now, without the presence of his crew and without the ability to use his arrow as intimidation he's had to moderate his behavior. But he's still got his walls up, he's still mostly getting along with people based on practicality, and he's still not willing to search for an actual companion even this far into his dumbass life.

This is the worst of the reasons as to why he's taking some of his wages and looking for a companion for the night.

Worker droids are the best back home. They can erase memories, have lots of tricks programmed in, and they're not gonna judge a body that's covered in scars and wear. Problem is he don't know if any of these damned places have something of that sort. Instead, he's wandering the dingiest, shameful part of this utopia looking at the selection of girls offered on lit signs that aren't always scrolling or flickering they should.

It's in the middle of his trolling that, instead of a prospective business to patronize, he sees a familiar broad shouldered towheaded Terran walking down the sidewalk, drifting in between busy foot traffic composed mostly of perverts, drunkards, and cheapskates. A sea of inconvenient failures he just nearly lost track of Peter in.

"...Hey! Hey Quill!" He shouts. The kid doesn't hear him.

It still feels like a heartbeat since he 'died'. He had his last admission, an acceptance of his fate and penance for a life full of bullshit, the cold and silence sinking in as he realized he'd be dying the same as so many more of his crew. The better of 'em, anyway. He said what he said, but he would have liked to have known if the boy'd felt the same way. Peter didn't argue the point at the time, at least. He'd just looked at Yondu up until the point that Yondu couldn't see him no more.

The Ravager is moving before he even knows he's moving. He's shoving by people, nearly knocks a woman over. "Quill!" he shouts again. "Hold up! It's me."

But he doesn't stop. And when Yondu grabs his arm and spins the guy around, it's a fella with a big mustache and a modded third eye in his forehead. Looking very, very offended.

The old captain jerks his hand back, looking just as offended even if he has no right to be. As if this guy turning out to have nothing like the face he thought he saw was some great hostile act against him personally. He yanks back completely and starts storming off, kicking a clanky can from the path as noisily as possible. Because pissy displays of angry noise with an accompanying growling shout are the best way to show off one's patient personality and not make people veer around you as if you're a madman.

Maybe they're not far off, he figures, if he's seeing nonsense.

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"It did, huh?"

That seems to get the irritable blue guy's attention. Just chip off a touch of that ravager anger and smooth out his facial features.

"It look like somethin' from before you came here?" No telling if they're related, but maybe it's more than the broken fin.

That response gets Squall's attention too.

"Yes. A place I've been before." For a short time but still. It was an important place. Kind of. He looks at Yondu questioningly. "Did you experience the same thing?"

"Yeah, with a person."

He taps the piece of plastic embedded in his skull.

"Figured my fin was broken an' was makin' me see stuff. Maybe that's not the case." Maybe there's something in the air or water or whatever.

Squall stares at that fin. He'd assumed that was a part of him, not an addition.

"What does it do?" He rests a hand on his hip and finally draws his eyes away from just rudely staring. "It's weird. It feels like everything in this city is always... shifting."

"It controls my weapon of choice, but I ain't been able to use it since I got here. Not to any effect nohow."

He holds up his arrow and whistles. It floats over his hand, but then starts to wobble. Little control of it left, really. And it's pissing Yondu the hell off.

"What about you? You come in with somethin' broke?"

Whoa. That looks cool. Too bad it's not working, Squall would love to see it in action.

He shakes his head. "Not broke. Just missing. My gunblade didn't come with me. And they removed my GFs. They're Guardian Forces, summons that... live in my head I guess. They let me use magic spells."

Magic isn't so strange to him as it is to other space farers, probably. His old team had a skilled magician. So he doesn't really hold up over it.

"So you just forgot how to summon? Or do they just not come when you try?"

"They won't come because they're not here. If they are, I'll have to find them." Would this city have GFs lying around? Guess he'll find out.

"Does everyone from your world have a fin like that?"

"Nah, it's pretty rare. Most of the other fellas that had one got killed off. My world's about mixed an' matched as this'n.

"Krugarr's brand o' magic was multidimensional. It could grab from a little bit of everywhere. An I reckon if I'm here an' all my shit applies, that means there could be some mix and match here, too."

Basically, Yondu's guessing that even if the guy's friends aren't here, he might be able to call upon something to make them work here. Krugarr could. Asgardians do on the regular.

Yondu definitely looks like he fits in with the overall aesthetic of this city. Squall looks thoughtful at that. Multiple dimensions, multiple worlds. He's barely wrapped his mind around time travel and now this.

"You mean I might find something I can summon here." That's an interesting idea for sure. He'll bring it up to Nida and Seifer. He looks dubious but interested as he touches a hand under his chin.

"Yeah, 'cause I mean, magical damn tattoos are somethin' you can go buyin'. So it's my guess that there's somethin' powerin' those tattoos."

He never really understood his old friend's magic. He didn't need to. But he knows that pulling from the multiverse was a big part of it.

Yondu looks at the arrow.

"Maybe I can use the shit here to augment my arrow. Gotta find compatible tech, if that's the case."

Squall frowns again, reminded of the free voucher for one of those tattoos or mods. He doesn't trust it but it might be a good alternative to magic too. He nods after a moment.

"I'll keep an eye out." He follows Yondu's gaze to his arrow. "You might have an easier time with that. It looks similar to the rest of the technology in the city."

A pause.

"Can you kill someone with that?" An honest question. He doesn't look like he's concerned about the morality of murder.

"Oh yeah, I can kill a lot with this." Yondu says, turning it in his hand. "It goes right through a target, even if it's made of metal. Given that? I figure it makes sense why they wouldn't give it to me in full. Figure they don't want somethin' like me around their robots at full capacity."

Because Yondu would not leave any that came after him standing.

"Reckon they did the same in your case?"

Squall hums thoughtfully. Makes sense to disable them like this then. He nods.

"I'd be fighting my way into their facilities already. I don't want to stay here long." Too many things to do.

It occurs to Yondu then that there might be a story, or a person, or a thing that Squall needs to hear about.

"Ever hear o' somethin' called the 'Supreme Intelligence'? Because that's what this Head thing reminds me of."

The unknown and ominous sounding name bothers him.

"Never heard of a supreme intelligence. Someone from your world?"

"The Kree, another race of blue people but not real personable like.... They got an AI in charge of their world. And that AI constantly decides what the hell is best for everyone whether they like it or not. That includes havin' armies of slaves and wipin' out whole worlds full of potential threats. Not even ones that mentioned throwin' a punch.

"So I'm not lookin' real kindly on any of this. I already been here." And he doesn't like being here again.

Squall folds his arms as he considers that. He doubts he's the only one who has issues about an artificial intelligence controlling their lives but Yondu just gave more reason as to why exactly that's bad.

"I don't understand how AI can take over like this. They're made, aren't they? That means they can be shut down."

"Well, if you look at it that way, everything is made an' can be fucked up. But the Kree made the Supreme Intelligence an' love it. You think all the people here hate this thing? You think they'd give a damn even if they knew the 'truth'? Whatever that truth is?

"Naw. People are letting this thing rule 'em."

Yondu has no doubt of the complacency. Everyone is far too accepting.

Squall has a permanent etch between his eyebrows at this point. Nothing here makes sense but there's no denying what they're seeing either.

"Maybe they are. Maybe they're afraid." He shrugs. "Maybe life here is better. I don't get it."

"Sure, sure. Some of 'em are probably afraid, yeah. But do you honestly think that all o' these people, ever last one of 'em, care all that much about the little man speakin' out? Or would they rather feel safe, let their children eat up all the flowery bedtime stories of a perfect world. Means there's less questions to worry about.

"Yeah, I think this big AI is creepy as hell. I can't imagine it bein' all that good. But I'm bettin' most of these people are just fine."

The Supreme Intelligence has made Yondu quite the cynic.

Squall can't fault the cynicism really. He finds himself agreeing as he listens. If he had no chance of fighting back and his only option is to settle down and obey some overpowered AI, would he turn out like them? He clenches his fist. Yondu's view on the state of the world obviously bothering him.

"I won't end up like them." He looks back at the bar that kicked him out. "I'll look for other bars. The shadier the better. Someone must be willing to talk." A place that would throw him out for being one year underage probably doesn't qualify, even though he went in cause of some kind of hallucination.

"You ain't wrong to want it, boy. But trust you me," he motions between them. "You start doin' much of that? You ain't gonna be able to settle. An' ever'body you care about's gotta be the sort willin' to forget about ya or go runnin' too. I know from experience."

That's what many of the Ravagers were. Pirate, sure. Rogues. Thieves. General scum, but many by necessity. Many because it was the only crew of organized anything they could get into and fight back with.

But in the end, when Peter found some sort of acceptance, that made it easier for Yondu to let him go. Even if his whole damn crew held it against him. There'd been a lotta reasons for it. Considering he just had his own head's mindbent adventure, that story's fresh with him.

Squall tilts his head and knits his brows. Parts of that resonated with him but it also confuses him. He's so used to his friends sticking around him and his decisions regardless of how he feels about it that the idea of them wanting to stay here hasn't crossed his mind.

"Did you keep running?" He assumes Yondu is the one who doesn't want to settle rather than the one left behind.

"Yeah, but I didn't have much left to leave. Wasn't that big a deal to me.

"But I got a ship an' a crew..." Or... well, he did, and that's a hard fact to face right there. "Back home, anyway." Before the mutiny. "An' a good lot of 'em were runners an' a lot of 'em had to leave somethin' behind. You could tell it stung 'em.

"Best you know what you're gettin' into, you start lookin' around."