[ For as approachable as Peter tends to be, having Gamora at his side wards off almost everyone. Having a galaxy-renowned (feared) assassin kind of does that, and if he's honest, he'd rather not talk to anyone here, anyway. Because conversations among the elite always boil down to That Day in Xandar, facing Ronan and doing the Running Man to distract him.
(And the Infinity Stone. And the pain. And that for a second, there, Peter was all too happy to let it rip him asunder if it meant an end to the pain.
Which doesn't make for good dinner conversation.)
He plucks up a glass of wine from a passing waitress – a pretty Krylorian woman with eyes as wide as saucers as she drifts pass the both of them, staring. Peter winks at her, smiling crookedly, and the woman blushes as she hurries away, smothering a laugh. ]
That means we should look around, then. [ As if that entire exchange never happened. ] See if there's anything in here that they might've missed.
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(And the Infinity Stone. And the pain. And that for a second, there, Peter was all too happy to let it rip him asunder if it meant an end to the pain.
Which doesn't make for good dinner conversation.)
He plucks up a glass of wine from a passing waitress – a pretty Krylorian woman with eyes as wide as saucers as she drifts pass the both of them, staring. Peter winks at her, smiling crookedly, and the woman blushes as she hurries away, smothering a laugh. ]
That means we should look around, then. [ As if that entire exchange never happened. ] See if there's anything in here that they might've missed.