Grim taps on the nearest surface to get her attention.

“Oh. It’s you.”

"Yes. Lord Thanos asked me to let everyone know we were making planetfall in just under fifty hours."

“Really. That’s all you’ve got to say?”

"What else do you want me to say?"

She leans back and sighs.

”Honestly, I was expecting you to be angry.”

"-What's the point in being angry? We all made out alive."

“Well, I would have been angry. Not sure if there’d be a point in it, no.”

"Maybe I would be angry if I had more experience with this entire...family thing. But I don't. And you did what you thought you had to."

Nebula hangs her head.

Somehow, Grim’s charitable take on this situation is just making her feel worse.

She’s used to adversity. Sort of thrives on it.

A part of her really wishes the new girl would hate her. Easier to process that way.

She doesn't, really have anything else to say, so she nods to Nebula, and turns to leave.

"You're going to be as tough as us someday!" Nebula, seeing Grim starting to leave, blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

She then pauses, looks around. They are still in the medical wing.

There's a reason this is the part of the ship where Nebula habitually goes to brood.

"He'll keep cutting on you until you are. That's how it works here."

She stops. "Did he tell you what the implants I already had did?" she asks, almost absently.

She shakes her head.

"They could trigger electric shocks, through my entire body. My father... my biological father. He took great glee in using those to correct my mistakes, punish my failures. When he didn't like what I was saying. This world hasn't given me many chances to be soft."

She sighs. Nods.

"Suppose I shouldn't worry about you fitting in, then."

"No, I suppose you shouldn't."

And now, Grim does leave, one hand clenching into a fist. She stops a little way along the corridor, breathing for a moment, before going in search of Proxima.

Locating Proxima requires some legwork.

Apparently, Thanos' eldest daughter doesn't particularly want to be found and so has stalked off to some less trafficked section of the ship.

Eventually, Grim does track her down. She's practicing techniques on a Chitauri target range (after, presumably, having scared off any soldiers that were previously making use of the facility).

Grim observes her silently, curious as to her abilities.

Proxima doesn't have any especially flashy superpowers, but her basic weapon-handling skills are probably the best in the family.

She employs a wide range of equipment--ranging in size from compact wristblades to long-hafted polearms--with nary a single apparent imperfection in form.

If she notices Grim, she doesn't acknowledge it.

Well. Grim would assume she has noticed her, or she'll judge Proxima's situational awareness. She taps on a wall again to draw attention to herself.

Yup. No change. Proxima glides through the rest of her training routine, shaving down the training dummies one hairs' breadth at a time.

Only when the target range lies in tatters around her does she deign to acknowledge her alleged sister.

"You want something?"

Good.

"Lord Thanos asked me to let everyone know we'd be making planetfall in...around forty nine hours now."