Though Rocket hadn't really gotten a chance to know Nebula very well before the Avengers - besides the part where she'd tried to kill them all multiple times - things have been... different, since the day she arrived on Earth. Not like they're best friends; Rocket doesn't even know if Nebula knows how to have friends, but she's trying, awkward and stilted and sometimes utterly confusing for both parties. She's the closest thing to his family he has left, and vice versa, and that means something in the world they live in now. "Yeah, pears. Grapes too, the red ones."
It's really no surprise that the facility's gone to dust in the weeks since the devastation. This place looks fit to host a hundred, and from what he's heard, it used to. Not just the Avengers, but their support crews, medics and engineers and the like. But now it's damn near empty, just the Boss and folks like Rocket who're still trying to make a difference, somehow. It hasn't been worth it to keep up appearances, and it's an unfortunate blessing that they don't have to clean up the whole place for one party, just the rooms they intend to use. Maybe with everybody here at the same time, for once, it won't feel like so much of a ghost town.
While he listens, Rocket seeks out a spray bottle and rag to do the lower parts of the glass windows and walls. He's not very good at sitting around doing nothing, these days, his hands constantly itching for work. Natasha's comment about Steve makes him give a little snort of laughter. "Yeah, that'd be something, wouldn't it? Birthday party without the birthday boy." It's not really that funny, though, and he quickly lapses into silence.
Rocket pauses, the squeaking of his rag against the glass halting as he considers the state of things over in Thor's little village. Or rather, the state of the big guy himself. He may not have known the Asgardian for as long as the others, but even Rocket can tell that he's been taking it pretty hard, from what he's seen on the handful of visits he's made to Asvera. "Well, it ain't like his people can't get along without him around for a day. You, uh, planning on having any booze at this shindig?" he asks, as delicately as he knows how.
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It's really no surprise that the facility's gone to dust in the weeks since the devastation. This place looks fit to host a hundred, and from what he's heard, it used to. Not just the Avengers, but their support crews, medics and engineers and the like. But now it's damn near empty, just the Boss and folks like Rocket who're still trying to make a difference, somehow. It hasn't been worth it to keep up appearances, and it's an unfortunate blessing that they don't have to clean up the whole place for one party, just the rooms they intend to use. Maybe with everybody here at the same time, for once, it won't feel like so much of a ghost town.
While he listens, Rocket seeks out a spray bottle and rag to do the lower parts of the glass windows and walls. He's not very good at sitting around doing nothing, these days, his hands constantly itching for work. Natasha's comment about Steve makes him give a little snort of laughter. "Yeah, that'd be something, wouldn't it? Birthday party without the birthday boy." It's not really that funny, though, and he quickly lapses into silence.
Rocket pauses, the squeaking of his rag against the glass halting as he considers the state of things over in Thor's little village. Or rather, the state of the big guy himself. He may not have known the Asgardian for as long as the others, but even Rocket can tell that he's been taking it pretty hard, from what he's seen on the handful of visits he's made to Asvera. "Well, it ain't like his people can't get along without him around for a day. You, uh, planning on having any booze at this shindig?" he asks, as delicately as he knows how.