Blame Quill.

Bona fide super genius and a wizard with explosives. Residential problem solver of the: Gardeners of the Galaxy (uh, name rebrand pending). Basically the brains of this whole galaxy-wide gaurdianation operation. You're welcome, galaxy. [ RP blog for Rocket Raccoon ]

[definitelynotaraccoon]

Independent, selective roleplay blog for Rocket Raccoon primarily from Edios-Montreal’s GotG but extremely MCU and 616 flexible! Rules n’regulations   -    About (Lovingly written by Rocket himself)   -   Verses

I don’t fully understand the Beta Editor yet, I’ll use whichever is best for you in the meantime!

but wait, there’s more!

If you reply to this post with an insult-of-a-nickname your character would use on Rocket that invites you to a very exclusive Complainer List ™ where you’re completely fine with Rocket occasionally showing up in your Ask Box to complain, ridicule and generally be an all around pain in your ass.

[definitelynotaraccoon]

"For the record, this is not me 'crawling back'."

"For one thing, I have never crawled - I never will crawl. I don't even scamper. That would all be a misconception my enemies would spread to spite me and my successes. Of which I have many."

"What this is, is me being systematically removed from the majority of social networks across the galaxy, for reasons we need not disclose. This is me, returning home."

"Home. Good ol' Terra: with your outdated everythings, terrible user interfaces and... frankly, pretty fun poker nights. You keep welcoming me back with open flarking arms and honestly, I can't blame ya."

"So what's good, Earth? Me? I'm great; saved the universe a few more times, wearing a snazzy outfit now, lost an eye at one point and then got it back-- I don't wanna talk about it-- became essentially part-plant-- Idontwannatalkaboutanyofthis-- so, yeah! All fun."

"What's going on with you? All Guardian business will recommence: if you wanna continue old business, let me know. If you want new business, my comm channel is always open."

[definitelynotaraccoon]

SPELL OUT YOUR URL WITH SONG TITLES - THEN TAG AS MANY PEOPLE AS THERE ARE LETTERS IN THE URL

Tagged by: @revenantinflames "You saw how many letters were in my url yet punished me anyway. Jerk."

D - Don’t Stop Me Now - Queen E - Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears F - Final Countdown - Europe I - In My Life - The Beatles (his personal favorite here) N - Never Gonna Give You Up - Rick Astley (has no idea about the meme) I - I Shot The Sheriff - Bob Marley and Eric Clapton  Either is good. T - Take On Me - a-ha E - Escape - Rupert Holmes (that disgusting human ‘probably a euphemism’ song) L - Lonesome Loser - Little River Band Y - You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Party - Beastie Boys N - New Moon on Monday - Duran Duran O - O Superman · Laurie Anderson (listens in private, will tell you it’s stupid.) T - Tokyo - Bruce Cockburn  A - All the Young Dudes - Mott The Hoople R - Rocky Raccoon - The Beatles (Nope. No resemblance. Fool got shot. Shut up.) A - A Real Hero - College & Electric Youth (hasn’t heard but would be a Ryan Gosl-er) C - Call Me - Blondie C - Come On Eileen · Dexys Midnight Runners O - Out Of Touch - Hall & Oates O - Oh! You Pretty Things - Bowie N - No Use in Crying - Rolling Stones

"...Maybe Stark (@overclocks) is right. Maybe I do got a music problem that needs expanding..."

"Psssh, nah. I have exceptional tastes with everything. I'm not tagging too many morons in this, I'm feeling merciful. Plus, you cannot beat my musical choices."

"...but I am tagging you, Danvers, (@paragonrising) as payback for your usual flarking paperwork!"

Additional losers to tag: @blackjack-ohare, @spiderz0mbie, @beatfreesmysoul, @galestrings

[definitelynotaraccoon]

"I don't understand. You're a small time Earth based social media platform. Why can't you all just accept you're an aesthetical laughing stock to the rest of the galaxy and stop trying new things?!"

"It shouldn't be so hard to find where the krutaking Drafts is! Know your lane--!"

[housep1ant-deactivated20230817]

starter for: @definitelynotaraccoon

THE COLOSSUS WAS GIVEN orders to grab the ray gun. unfortunately, there are two variations of ray guns on the counter. groot spends time examining both, attempting to decide on which would be the most suitable. he decides to not go with either of the choices and instead grabs a simple raccoon plush that was also left on the counter. peter managed to take such an artifact on earth.

groot returns to his friend rocket, excited to present what he has found. " i am groot ! " < here is the ray gun ! >

[definitelynotaraccoon]

This is why weapons testing is ideally a one-man thing; you’ve got two flarknards who’d favour throwing a literal sword down range and one moron who brings his mix-tapes into everything. Groot? Groot is good people– Groot is terrific people he’d be happy for anytime, but that don’t make him ideal for this either.

Rocket stands patiently at the base of his makeshift shooting range and has a hand outstretched for whichever ray gun Groot picks. Any ray gun would do. 

So, you can imagine his surprise when what he feels is soft, plushy, and bears no resemblance to him whatsoever.

“Groot.” Rocket starts, deadpan. “Buddy, explain to me real quick what part of what you're holding here is a ray gun exactly.”

[housep1ant-deactivated20230817]

i am groot ! he says that you should follow this blog and write cool stuff with it. private and indie blog for groot from guardians of the galaxy, written by jewel.

[definitelynotaraccoon]

Context for that ask that nobody needed nor asked for, but if I have to live with it you do too. I know it's an old meme phrase to throw around but--

there's no heterosexual explanation for this

[definitelynotaraccoon]

MESSAGE RECEIVED From: [ ANONYMOUS TRANSMISSION ]

So! "Baby Boo". What's the story behind that one?

"Baby B--?"

"It's... I mean, I'm just scutballin' here since that sounds like nothin' I ever said ever and I don't know what you're talking about. But that sounds like a term of endearment if I ever heard one."

"The kinda dumb-stupid crap you'd only hear from a fool too drunk on Skrull Poppers and Seknarffian jello shots to know any better."

"That's the end of it. So-- so just keep on swimming. Alright?"

[definitelynotaraccoon]

MESSAGE RECEIVED From: [ ANONYMOUS TRANSMISSION ]

Do you believe in true love?

"Sure. The same way I believe in true ghost stories, or true justice for all or true constipation of the bowels."

"Bottom line of it is: get that the kratuk friggin' far, far away from me. I ain't got no time for that goopy schmuck-stank and neither should any'a you."

"Outright cringe inducin'. Get outta here and my inboxes with that noise!"

[definitelynotaraccoon]

MESSAGE RECEIVED From: [ ANONYMOUS TRANSMISSION ]

Hey Rocket! In honor of Pride Month, what's your coming out story?

"My coming outta what, now--? What am I coming out of here?"

"...prison? Y'mean like a breakout? 'Cause I got about six-hundred of those stories I could go through! From Max-Sec to drunken dis-orderlies. Uh, and I dunno if there's any to feel particularly proud about for a whole flarkin' month, though..."

"...really feel like I'm missing a context here. This a Terran thing?"

[definitelynotaraccoon]

LEGAL NAME: 89P13 

NICKNAME[S]: Rocket, Ranger Rocket, Rocket Raccoon, Rocky (best pals only), Rodent, Fur Face, it goes on and on and on...

DATE OF BIRTH: Unknown

SEX: Male

PLACE OF BIRTH: Halfworld

CURRENTLY LIVING: Crew mate and owner of the Milano

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English (United States), English (United Kingdom) (formally. it’s a long story), Integrated Galactic Translator covers all bases.

EDUCATION: Extensive AI augmentation.  Universal knowledge on engineering, first-aid, piloting, tactical strategy and a scut load of everything else.

HAIR FUR COLOR: Dirty, dirty brown. 

EYE COLOR: Brown, Red at the right angle (think Blade Runner)

HEIGHT: 3’5”

WEIGHT:  Flark you.

FAMILY INFORMATION

SIBLING[S]: Zip

PARENT[S]:  Nada

CHILDREN: Sweet Hala no.

PET[S]: Kammy, (frankly, not wanted. Available for sale.) Peter Jason Quill (human team mascot, same offer applies)

RELATIONSHIP INFORMATION

SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  Male leaning Demisexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Your scutbaggin' mother.

SINCE WHEN:  D’ast off.

TAGGED BY: @paragonrising

"Once again, Dan. I find myself doin' the dirty work that you send me. And by dirty work, I mean paperwork, which I think goes without saying is the worst, most boring kind of work."

"--but I'm sayin' it anyway because you keep. Sending. It."

TAGGING: "Why the hell would I be sadistic enough to send this crap over to anyo--?"

"...wait, never mind. I'm forwarding it to Moon Knight ( @thesilverandjetsystem ) again. Ha. That never gets old--!"

[definitelynotaraccoon]

@cosmicrayed liked for a starter, and is gonna have to put up with him.

"--and honest, I am sorry for calling you Sue."

"Sally. Cruk." Honestly, this is just one of those days. We're in the aftermath of Terran invasion 'no.3-3-3-who keeps counting-3', picking up rubble and the wormhole-scuffed Milano finds itself parked on their roof while he's left repairing it.

At least, he fairly assumes it's their roof. Big old tower. Got a whole big 'four' here. Like that ain't pretentious... Ah heck, he's just mad he's repairing all this solo.

"In person, you're actually shorter than I imagined. Which is weird, because when I imagine 'The Invisible Woman'... Y'know, I don't got expectations. I see nothing there!"

"Least... I didn't think I did. You hear scut like that a lot?"

[definitelynotaraccoon]

In light of recent interests, I'm finally remembering to plug this thing with a W.ire plug.

"Want a Rocket in your pocket?"

"...what? Eugh. No! I'm not being weird. I'm sayin', do you want the chance to have an argument you're not gonna win any time and any place in the whole flarking universe?"

"If so. Come at me."

[theknightgeek]

Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy by Matt Ferguson

[eternalzenith-deactivated202306]

‘  i’ve  done  unimaginable  things ,  things  you  couldn’t  even  comprehend ,  just  to  get  back  here  and  save  you .  ’ - @definitelynotaraccoon

nose turning up from a very questionable stench, the blonde pinched his nostrils to save himself from smelling whatever gunk his teammate was covered in.

"pee-yew, buddy. i don't doubt it. you smell like you hid from stormtroopers in a garbage compactor."

peter can make fun of rocket all he wants, rocket wasn't the one in lady hellbender's cage. peter slowly lifted himself off the ground to crawl out of the cage's entry. knees aching as he was way too big for this small cage. if peter had any shame, he'd be humiliated to be in such a predicament.

sweet temporary freedom.

"lemme guess . . . lady hellbender doesn't know you're here and this is basically a breakout."

[definitelynotaraccoon]

“Basically, yeah.”

It’s too much effort to shrug while he’s still running around making sure no silent alarms were set off from his impromptu visitation. There’s an audible wet ‘plap’ to Rocket’s every step that he tries to ignore as much as the stink itself or Quill’s rancid commentary on the matter. Flark's a scut-trooper?

Still, it is kinda funny seeing him crawl out to freedom like that. Rocket even takes the time out from pulling wires to stop and watch; it's with some bizarre fascination for the man that he does it without a scrap less of dignity. He's got a real talent. “Figures I break outta so many joints I’d be about as good gettin’ in, right? But boy, am I getting sick of this place."

“Unless you feel like sticking around ‘till feeding time or something. I can come back in an hour, no problem! I’m still getting a bead on where they stashed your stuff…” From the computer terminal he looks over his shoulder at him with a smirk that sobers up for just a second.

“You ah, all good though? No fatal injuries to complain about?” 

[definitelynotaraccoon]

@gamoratm || continued from x.

“I ain’t fond of nobody, don’t take it too personal.” Which is untrue, of course. “Only difference between you and the other one is you speak the language I understand. Units.” Strictly untrue. 

But this is all business now, and Rocket uses his business tone here. Outside of Nebula, and purely by extension of his own Ravager contacts, he was the only other one who kept up with ‘New Gam’ on the side.

–or ‘old Gam’, is it? New old Gam? Point is, who gives a crap. New old Gam says ‘jump’, Rocket’s sure to go ‘how high?’ Says ‘need back up’, he goes ‘I’m already there.’ Even when the pay out is as unreasonable as a three hundred thousand split for his ingenious work.

But he owes her that much. Their Gamora.

Straight to the point, never dancing. He liked that about her. “Only thing ‘insane’ is the sorry shit you Ravagers call a dress code, my firepower speaks for itself. Who we making a move on?”

[spiritsathame-deactivated202311]

Nyreen rolled her eyes, though she didn’t argue. Rocket had hit turian society right on the nose. And as much as she’d wanted to distance herself from it because of how they’d treated her, here she was, exercising all that nerdom. Her eyes lit up on hearing the machine whir to life. Finally. Some water that tasted a little less like rust. It was better than nothing. “No more favours. But I can pay you. In the future.” It was slow going getting the Talons set up so that they could have extra funds and guns to work with. Three steps forward, one step back. “In credits, of course. And free meals, if you’re up for it.” And the Talons to call on should trouble arise. But that would be a silent agreement once the others weren’t around. “Maybe a gun or two to add to your repertoire on your next visit.”

[definitelynotaraccoon]

“Food and firearms for a hard day’s work? Gee, now I just can’t tell if you’re being funny and stereotyping. Do turians even joke?” Rocket smirks back Nyreen's way, flipping his goggles back to the top of his head and giving the mechanism a firm, resounding pat now she’s singing right again. “You know I ain’t lacking for the gun front; I’ve got more thermal clips than I’ve got sense – and I’m incredibly senseful.” 

“Credits? Credits I can do.” His mouth hangs open for one more second as something extra flashes behind his eyes. Rocket clearly debates with whether to drop it or risk falling back into favour territory again so soon.

“...of course, if you were willing to let slip on the details on maybe some’a the expensive cargo meant for... say, Afterlife…” He weighs imaginary ideas in his hands and feels guilt-free in letting her put them together. In the meantime, Rocket picks up his tools and brushes himself off.

“Anyway - where’s the next filtration station?” Eugh. He hates when technology rhymes.