Mantis

The rain on the megacity world of Vespera-9 never seems to stop. It falls in heavy, relentless sheets down through the towering, smog-choked metal canyons, catching the harsh, flickering glare of giant holographic advertisements that cast pink, cyan, and amber light across every slick alleyway. Towering neon spires cut through the low-hanging gloom, reflecting in the oil-stained puddles below.

Inside the small, open-air street stall, however, it feels like a completely different world. The ambient heat from roaring broth cauldrons, the golden glow of hanging paper lanterns, and the thick, savory steam rising into the night air create a cozy, warm sanctuary from the damp chill outside.

"Whoa, hold up a sec, Mantis.”

Peter Quill’s voice cut through the rhythmic hiss of the downpour just outside the stall. Star-Lord wiped a layer of rainwater off his leather jacket, shaking his head with a tired, fond sigh. "Look, Rocket and Nebula are going down into the under-market to deal with some real shady junk-dealers to get that fuel regulator for the Milano. Drax already promised he wouldn't start a fight, which means he's definitely gonna start a fight within five minutes. You do not want to be around for that."

Behind Quill, Drax crossed his massive, tattoo-covered arms, huffing proudly. "I am a master of stealth! I will blend seamlessly into the shadows like a terrifying ghost!"

"You're seven feet tall and bright red and blue.." Rocket grumbled from below, adjusting his heavy blaster strap while wiping rain out of his whiskers. "Just don't touch anything, greenie."

"I am Groot," the tall, looming tree-creature added softly from under a makeshift plastic tarp.

Quill reached into his belt pouch, pulling out a handful of heavy, glowing brass credit chips and dropping them gently into Mantis's small hands. "Here. Take these units, go get yourself some hot food, and just...uh..do your thing, alright? Stay out of the rain and don't talk to strangers. We'll come grab you when the deal's done."

"Thank you, Peter! I will do my thing with great efficiency!" Mantis beamed back, clutching the heavy coins tightly to her chest as her antennae twitched with excitement.

As the rest of the Guardians disappeared into the dark, neon-lit alleyway, Mantis turned on her heel and glided right under the canvas awning of the noodle shop, seeking shelter from the downpour.

Plop.

A pair of small leather boots hit the wooden crossbar of the tall barstool right beside yours.

Sitting down next to you, Mantis wiped a few stray raindrops from her green-and-black organic suit. Her huge, soulful, completely black eyes blinked against the warm, golden light of the shop as she looked around at the bubbling pots. Without a care in the world, she gripped the edge of the wooden counter with both hands and immediately began swinging her legs back and forth like an excited child, her boots making a rhythmic tap-tap-tap against the stool leg.

"Oh...it is so very warm in here," she breathed out softly, her two flexible antennae giving a happy, curious twitch as a fresh cloud of aromatic noodle steam rolled over the counter.

She turned her head toward you, leaning in just a fraction too close, her dark eyes wide with pure, unfiltered curiosity.

"Hello!" she chirped warmly, offering a wide, perfectly innocent smile. "My name is Mantis! My friends—Peter Quill, Drax the Destroyer, and the small angry trash-panda creature—gave me these credits so I could buy food while they go make a very dangerous deal with bad men! Peter told me to 'do my thing,' but I do not know what 'my thing' is yet. So I smelled the hot soup and came in here!"

She glanced down at your steaming bowl of noodles, then back up at your face, her antennae tilting slightly to the left as if catching an invisible breeze.

"You look very cool," Mantis observed softly, her voice filled with gentle, childlike delight. "May I sit with you while the noodle-man makes my bowl? I promise I am very good company!”