[ Completely unsupervised as Peter currently is, he briefly flirts with the idea of divesting a few folks here of their wallets, of their jewelry. It'd be so easy, he thinks, as he drifts through the crowds of the rich, famous, and influential. Surely they wouldn't miss a bracelet of precious gems? A purse of units?
But, no. He moves forward still, deciding that if anything went missing tonight, attention would probably promptly snap to him, the only mildly reformed thief. (But then again, as he usually does, maybe Peter is giving himself too much credit.)
He waits with a surprising amount of patience as Gamora makes polite conversation, as she smiles those empty smiles. Peter stands on the edge of another small crowd, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation. More tension eases out of the Kree's frame when he realizes Gamora isn't there to stop him from doing— whatever it was he was doing, and he finally moves his hand out of his pocket—
Without the detonator.
The two of them continue on with their conversation, and Peter continues to wait. A small group of people drift past, heading in that direction, and only when the last person crosses behind Peter does he finally break off from one group to join the next. He strikes up a mild sort of conversation with the woman beside him, cracks a joke about the dry canapes that seems to amuse her.
(She asks, "Don't I know you? I swear I've seen you somewhere before."
Peter shrugs and offers a self-deprecating sort of smile. "I just have one of those faces, you know?")
They wander slowly past Gamora and the Kree, the people ahead of them talking about something stuffy. Stock options or the political climate on Xanadu or something that Peter almost immediately zones out on that, thanks.
And Peter picks his moment, keeps his head slightly turned to the person beside him. He waits for the Kree to turn away a little, offer some vague gesture as he speaks, before Peter quickly dips his hand into the Kree's pocket, fishing out the device and slipping it into his own trouser pocket.
The man doesn't seem to notice (and neither does the woman), though Peter doesn't bother waiting around long enough to see if he will. He continues onward with the little crowd he had latched on to, offering only a quiet hum over their comms to indicate he had swiped the item. ]
no subject
But, no. He moves forward still, deciding that if anything went missing tonight, attention would probably promptly snap to him, the only mildly reformed thief. (But then again, as he usually does, maybe Peter is giving himself too much credit.)
He waits with a surprising amount of patience as Gamora makes polite conversation, as she smiles those empty smiles. Peter stands on the edge of another small crowd, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation. More tension eases out of the Kree's frame when he realizes Gamora isn't there to stop him from doing— whatever it was he was doing, and he finally moves his hand out of his pocket—
Without the detonator.
The two of them continue on with their conversation, and Peter continues to wait. A small group of people drift past, heading in that direction, and only when the last person crosses behind Peter does he finally break off from one group to join the next. He strikes up a mild sort of conversation with the woman beside him, cracks a joke about the dry canapes that seems to amuse her.
(She asks, "Don't I know you? I swear I've seen you somewhere before."
Peter shrugs and offers a self-deprecating sort of smile. "I just have one of those faces, you know?")
They wander slowly past Gamora and the Kree, the people ahead of them talking about something stuffy. Stock options or the political climate on Xanadu or something that Peter almost immediately zones out on that, thanks.
And Peter picks his moment, keeps his head slightly turned to the person beside him. He waits for the Kree to turn away a little, offer some vague gesture as he speaks, before Peter quickly dips his hand into the Kree's pocket, fishing out the device and slipping it into his own trouser pocket.
The man doesn't seem to notice (and neither does the woman), though Peter doesn't bother waiting around long enough to see if he will. He continues onward with the little crowd he had latched on to, offering only a quiet hum over their comms to indicate he had swiped the item. ]