For a moment Grim isn't sure what to do-

But when Proxima's fingers dig into her back, regardless of the pain, she wraps her arms around her new sister, trying to offer support in anyway she can.

It's as much an attack as it is an embrace.

She hates her. She hates the girl she's holding so much and yet...

Grim has said everything right. Admitted fault. Conveyed empathy. Challenged Proxima on nothing--not her feelings, not her words, not her actions. She's given Proxima's hatred no handholds.

The girl in her arms doesn't feel like a living, resisting enemy. Feels more like a corpse.

And there's comfort in that.

Comfort she hasn't had lately, from any of the others around her.

"Damn you." An uncertain whisper.

More shaking. Slowing down, steadily.

Comfort. Comfort. It's why she holds her docile foe close as she cries.

Grim is a silent, steady presence, not sure how to give comfort to Proxima, but more than willing to let her new sister take whatever comfort she can. If she notices Proxima's crying, she makes no mention of it, has no intention of ever mentioning it.

That's convenient. A silent, steady presence is exactly what Proxima needs right now, and it's a safe bet that she'd be in a Grievous Bodily Harm sort of mood if Grim ever spoke a word about that need outside of this room.

Eventually, she loosens her grip and draws back. Her eyes linger on Grim's for a while. Her lips churn but don't quite form the words thank you. She swallows, takes a small step back, then pivots and strides to the doorway. She hammers on the button beside it and then moves to exit the space as quickly as possible.

Grim stays where she is for a little while, breathing steadily, before venturing out to find food.

Gamora lingers in the food court after clearing her tray, becoming increasingly nervous.

She rises from her place and begins to double back in the direction she came from. She sees Grim entering from that direction, evidently unharmed, and Gamora relaxes substantially.

She strides over to her new sister. "What was that about? What'd she want?"

"Lord-" It occurs that she has no idea what to call Thanos now. Comes around at the topic from a different angle. "She apologised for her... Behaviour towards me."

"That makes sense. He really does want us to get along." Gamora easily infers Thanos' involvement based on Grim's halting wording--it helps that she has a really hard time imagining Proxima apologizing for anything without having been ordered to. "No room for second thoughts when we're covering each other's backs in the field."

As she speaks, she gradually leads Grim over to the station where the food gets distributed.

"No. There wouldn't be. I'm glad it happened. I would hate to hesitate on the battlefield because I have doubts as to whether I can trust her."

Gamora lingers for just a little longer, but she's picked up that Grim is pretty much all talked out for today. Since watching Grim eat isn't particularly interesting, she elects to retire to her quarters.

"See you around."

"See you," she agrees with a sharp nod. She eats quickly, clears her dishes, and provided no-one else demands her attention, makes her way back to her room. It's been a long day, and she's ready to rest.

No one else demands her attention!

The bedroom continues to be an accommodatingly restful place!

She rests, and when she wakes, immediately makes her way to the gym. She wants to figure out her new limits, and make sure she doesn't make another mistake like the one she made against Cull the day before.

As she enters the gym, the sounds of a fight in progress reach her from the central pit.

Strained Rumble!

Thanos fights like a heavyweight boxer, shuffling and weaving and raining down blows from a variety of angles.

Despite Cull's significant weight advantage, they appear quite evenly matched.

When the two enter a clinch, Thanos laughs and calls up to Grim: "Daughter! I hadn't expected you up quite this early?"

She laughs quietly, and nods slightly, before following through on her plan to work out her new limits.

The two fighters shove apart and continue their spar.

They go at it for several more minutes before calling it a day. There's no clear winner, both of them look more battered than Grim has seen them before, but from the way they move it's safe to assume that their accumulated injuries don't go much further than skin deep.

Thanos clambers out of the sparring ring, and pauses to watch Grim at work while catching his breath.

He appreciates how little micromanagement she requires. He's given her a task--Become Stronger--and Grim has applied herself thoroughly to it.

While Thanos expects that trait from all his children, he certainly does not assume it will always come preinstalled.

When a break comes up in her exercise, he claps--both to commend her diligence and get her attention.

She turns to him as he claps, and makes her way closer, stretching off her arms and back as she does.

"There's something I want to talk to you about. It's important, but it's not urgent." He gestures amiably at the next row of gym equipment over. "If you'd like to take some more time to train, I'll be on the forward command deck for the next hour. Do you think you can find your way back up there?"

He's pretty sure she can. But, in fairness, it is a big ship. And if she wants to have this conversation before he drops by the command deck, that's fine too.

"I can talk now, sir," she says immediately. "That way I won't interrupt more important things."

Small smile. He suspects it'll be a long time before Grim chooses to inconvenience him when given the choice, but he'll keep giving her the choice until she takes him up on it at least once. He doesn't mind at all if that takes years to happen.

"You've had time to get to know us. You've had the run of the ship, and before you joined us you recieved a lengthy briefing on what our enemies knew of our movements..."

He elects to begin this conversation with a question. If nothing else, it'll amuse him to know how much his precocious new child has managed to put together on her own.

"I wonder, given all that, what is it you suppose we do here?"

She explains what she's observed - they're a military operation, or something very similar to it, more suited to guerilla attacks than all out war, even if they seem to be approximately annexing planets, although for what purposes, she cannot in fact say.

"Guerrilla attacks?" Thanos considers Grim's wording. Though Grim has noticed a few small details that would've slipped by others, her conclusions substantially miss the mark. That doesn't surprise him. He takes pains to make his long term goals non-obvious; though he has little stomach for direct deception, Thanos finds it useful to at least be unpredictable. "We specialize in raiding--fast offensives and withdrawals with minimal damage to planetside infrastructure--but our objectives aren't traditionally military or political. We don't annex planets. We take what we need from them, then leave them better than we found them."