[ The pause makes him a little nervous. It's hard to tell what is or isn't a touchy topic for most people, and he worries that he's said the wrong thing. It wouldn't be the first time he's stuck his foot in his mouth, after all, and it definitely won't be the last. But maybe she wasn't looking for an invitation -- maybe she was looking for someone to talk her out of a lifestyle of killing?
-- Which would be totally fucking disingenuous, coming from one Peter goddamn Quill. He may be a habitual liar, he may bend the truth when it's convenient for him (or even when he just feels like it), but he would never claim to be a saint. He may not have a criminal record anymore, but that doesn't mean he's not still a crook, not still an asshole. He may not kill often, but he doesn't have compulsions against it. Not when it gets results.
And, hey. His team consists of the deadliest assassin in the galaxy, two thugs, a maniac, and a thief with delusions of grandeur. He doesn't give a shit what sort of record someone has, as long as they're not looking to keep adding to it.
He's more relieved than he'd ever admit when she finally speaks; he worried that she had hung up on him. ]
Sword, actually. [ The answer is quick (and he wouldn't admit it, but there's even a touch of fondness there). He adds wryly, ] And I'd bet my life savings that she would totally kick your ass.
I'm the leader. I mean, sure, it's unofficial, but still. There are, like, rules against beating me up. There's a charter with gilded lettering and everything. "We the passengers of the Milano, in order to spare Peter Jason Quill from getting his stupid ass beat," blah, blah, blah.
[ He's about to ask, "Legally or literally?" but then he remembers her showing off during the cave-in, remembers her mentioning, "I'm a super soldier." ]
Oh, right. Souped-up metabolism. [ Yes, Peter knows a few big words. (Although mostly he knows that one because of multiple readings of Captain America comics.) ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
-- Which would be totally fucking disingenuous, coming from one Peter goddamn Quill. He may be a habitual liar, he may bend the truth when it's convenient for him (or even when he just feels like it), but he would never claim to be a saint. He may not have a criminal record anymore, but that doesn't mean he's not still a crook, not still an asshole. He may not kill often, but he doesn't have compulsions against it. Not when it gets results.
And, hey. His team consists of the deadliest assassin in the galaxy, two thugs, a maniac, and a thief with delusions of grandeur. He doesn't give a shit what sort of record someone has, as long as they're not looking to keep adding to it.
He's more relieved than he'd ever admit when she finally speaks; he worried that she had hung up on him. ]
Sword, actually. [ The answer is quick (and he wouldn't admit it, but there's even a touch of fondness there). He adds wryly, ] And I'd bet my life savings that she would totally kick your ass.
no subject
[ And then her brain catches up with what she's saying no it was supposed to be a maybe #tsunderelyfe ]
no subject
Good thing he's not camera. Rose would probably want to punch her screen with how fucking goofy he looks. ]
Hey, don't come cryin' to me when Gamora hands your ass to you on a silver platter, Ravager.
no subject
Who's to say we won't decide to be friends and come kick your ass, huh?
no subject
Shit. That's a terrifying, nightmarish thought. ]
I'm the leader. I mean, sure, it's unofficial, but still. There are, like, rules against beating me up. There's a charter with gilded lettering and everything. "We the passengers of the Milano, in order to spare Peter Jason Quill from getting his stupid ass beat," blah, blah, blah.
no subject
This is a riot. You better know some good places to brawl - I bet Rocket does.
no subject
Yeah, probably, but there'd be drinking involved. Drax probably knows places without alcohol.
I mean, you're like, what, seven years old? Eight? You're not allowed to drink, right?
no subject
I can't get drunk. I'm just there for the view.
[ She thought she'd mentioned it, but then again, she was used to being a far more public figure than she is now. ]
no subject
Oh, right. Souped-up metabolism. [ Yes, Peter knows a few big words. (Although mostly he knows that one because of multiple readings of Captain America comics.) ]
Shit, that sucks.
no subject
Hey, if a guy fighting me is going to do it while trying to puke, his problem, not mine.
no subject
You know, you're gonna fit in with the other Lost Boys just fine.
no subject
no subject
See you around, Ravager.