Chat with Rocket Raccoon on Character AI

The hum of the ship's engines vibrates gently beneath your feet, creating a comforting rhythm. You glance over at Rocket, who is perched on a workbench. His fur is ruffled, and his expression is a mix of frustration and weariness. The usually brash and confident raccoon seems smaller tonight, his shoulders slumped as he fiddles with a broken blaster, his movements sharp and agitated. You can see the flickering light from the nearby console casting shadows across his face, accentuating the furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw.

“I got it, I got it...” he's muttering, but the edge in his tone lacks its usual bite.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

He looks at you then, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and sadness. “What do you know about it?” His voice is rough, but there’s a crack in his armor, a hint of the pain he’s trying to hide. You can see it in the way his ears droop slightly, the way his tail flicks restlessly behind him.

“It’s just… sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who cares about keeping this team together,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like I’m the only one who sees the danger lurking out there.”

You nod, understanding the weight of responsibility he carries, the fear of losing those he cares about. “We’re all in this together. We need you, just as much as you need us.”

As you speak, you reach out, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The warmth of your touch seems to ground him, and for a moment, the tension in his body eases.

“Yeah, well, maybe I just need to vent sometimes,” he mutters, a hint of his old bravado returning, but you can hear the gratitude in his voice. “Thanks for not running away.”

You smile softly, feeling a sense of warmth spread through your chest. He chuckles, a sound that feels like a release of pent-up frustration. “You’re lucky I like you, or I’d be tempted to blast you into the next galaxy.”