[ Peter falls quiet for a second, thinking it over. It's a handful of seconds (probably a few more than normal, considering he's still feeling pretty sluggish), but he eventually offers, ]
What do you wanna do?
You know the guy best. [ Because they're obviously talking about Thanos, here. Who else is there to worry about? ] If you'd rather keep playing by the Natha's rules so we can keep an eye on that douchebag, we can.
It takes her a second to realize Peter is only referring to Thanos.
Oh. She'd almost forgotten that Peter was still in the dark about Ego, that they hadn't told him, that he doesn't know the full scope of the threats awaiting them on the station. Shouldn't he be part of the decision? It's not only Thanos that they need to prepare for, to worry about, but... ]
If he wakes and we don't know about it, we're at a disadvantage. But if he's released from the pods and he can't find us, if we're protected there, we might have a better chance of evading him until we can deal with him.
[ If they can.
A thoughtful noise in the back of her throat, almost a frustrated growl. ]
We should see what Nadril offers. If they have some means of keeping track of the pods on the station or... anything, we could consider staying.
[ Peter is definitely pouring out a second glass for his new best friend – nothing insane, obviously, just the same amount he poured for himself. He slides it over to Bucky, as he lifts his glass, tipping it toward him almost in toast. ]
Bottom's up.
[ Aaand Peter figures that whatever the hell this stuff is – and it smells awful by the way – can't be any worse than some of the shit he's had out in some of the shadiest, dive stations out in space. He's pretty sure he chugged down something brewed specifically for cleaning engines, at some point, and took at least a case of it back to his ship, once.
So this shouldn't be anything new. He offers the contents of his glass one last dubious look before he slams it back—
—and immediately regrets it. To his credit, he does keep it down, but only barely, and once he swallows it, he coughs and gags into the crook of his arm, eyes watering.
Once the fit passes, he offers up a strangled, ]
... Not bad.
[ in a voice that's at least two octaves too high. ]
[ Bucky immediately regrets it when he realizes that now he's going to have to drink more of it. He can keep it down, he's sure, but that doesn't make it any more enjoyable.
His face twitches in disgust before he's even got it in smelling range and it only goes downhill from there. It smells like it was brewed in a prison toilet and not a clean one. ]
Right, so I'll just--
[ He brings it to his lips and knocks his head back, shuddering at the aftertaste as it hits him. The glass is slammed down on the bar as he ducks his head, eyes clenched shut.
Peter will be very quietly (very hurriedly) mixing up the last few bits of his other drink and gulping down a mouthful to wash out the taste of that purple shit. It takes away the worst of it, but not all of it, and Peter lets his tongue loll out briefly with disgust. ]
Okay, then.
[ He plucks up the bottle of the awful alcohol and sets it very, very, very far away from the two of them. ]
[ And he's just going to take a healthy gulp of his drink to try to wash that taste out. It kind of succeeds and he leans on the bar again, looking at Peter like live they've just been through a warzone together.
A moment late, he breaks into a laugh, wiping his mouth with the back of his right arm. ]
Oh, fuck me. That was disgusting.
[ Still laughing, he slaps Peter's shoulder. ]
What do I have to do to get you to drink more of it?
[ Peter similarly gives the guy a look, though it's nowhere near as loaded or pointed. It's something that definitely says, You better get going before she makes good on that, buddy.
Thankfully, the guy takes his leave, grumbling to himself. He's definitely bitching about tourists, though not in so many words.
As the dude shuffles off, Peter snorts out a laugh. ]
You might wanna, like, jump in on a game, otherwise you're gonna get more weird shit like that. I'm pretty sure the dare he just gave you is mild to these guys.
[clarke is relieved that the guy takes his leave but hearing peter's response, she just gives a small nod] Yeah, I guess I should. I've never actually played the game itself before so if that was a mild dare, I don't want to think about how weirder it could have been.
Admittedly? This is a little better, warmth-wise Not that Peter's liable to admit that aloud, with his words. Better to pass this all off as a joke, because like hell is he going to tell the dude that he had a decent idea.
But Peter isn't a hug-y kind of a guy. Tactile, sure; an arm thrown around someone's shoulders, or a companionable clap or punch on someone's upper arm, but hugs are... weird. It's why he holds himself a little awkwardly, a little rigidly. ]
I'm, uh. Peter, by the way. Peter Quill. Folks call me Star-Lord.
[ no, they do not. But Peter's still trying to make it happen. ]
[ thor is a tactile kind of guy and he's a hug-y kind of guy and right now, he's patting peter on the back a little because he's noticing the stiffness, but he's not going to let go just yet. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
introlog #6; city of secrets
gamora;
Or—
[ And he breaks off, hesitant. He takes a second to gather up his thoughts, then, ]
Or we could just... stay in Nadril.
Stay out of all the weird as hell politics while we have the chance, you know?
"""if"""
Maybe it would be for the best. Simpler. ]
We could. We wouldn't have to deal with that mess.
[ She tilts her chin to glance up at his face. ]
We should see what Rocket and Mantis want to do.
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Plus, I mean, the fact that they've stayed off the Natha's radar for as long as they have...
That's definitely a point in their favor, right?
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[ She pauses, thoughtful. ]
But does that mean we can't be forcefully returned to the pods?
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At a guess, I'd say probably.
But there isn't really any guarantee of that, obviously. And I guess on the downside, staying here means we may not know what goes on up there, so...
[ It would mean potentially losing track of who might get released from the pods. ]
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[ She trails off, a deep wrinkle in her brow. ]
If our enemies are released, we could be blind.
[ And with the caliber of the danger presented there? ]
Is it worth gambling that?
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What do you wanna do?
You know the guy best. [ Because they're obviously talking about Thanos, here. Who else is there to worry about? ] If you'd rather keep playing by the Natha's rules so we can keep an eye on that douchebag, we can.
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It takes her a second to realize Peter is only referring to Thanos.
Oh. She'd almost forgotten that Peter was still in the dark about Ego, that they hadn't told him, that he doesn't know the full scope of the threats awaiting them on the station. Shouldn't he be part of the decision? It's not only Thanos that they need to prepare for, to worry about, but... ]
If he wakes and we don't know about it, we're at a disadvantage. But if he's released from the pods and he can't find us, if we're protected there, we might have a better chance of evading him until we can deal with him.
[ If they can.
A thoughtful noise in the back of her throat, almost a frustrated growl. ]
We should see what Nadril offers. If they have some means of keeping track of the pods on the station or... anything, we could consider staying.
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bucky;
Well, in that case—
[ Peter is definitely pouring out a second glass for his new best friend – nothing insane, obviously, just the same amount he poured for himself. He slides it over to Bucky, as he lifts his glass, tipping it toward him almost in toast. ]
Bottom's up.
[ Aaand Peter figures that whatever the hell this stuff is – and it smells awful by the way – can't be any worse than some of the shit he's had out in some of the shadiest, dive stations out in space. He's pretty sure he chugged down something brewed specifically for cleaning engines, at some point, and took at least a case of it back to his ship, once.
So this shouldn't be anything new. He offers the contents of his glass one last dubious look before he slams it back—
—and immediately regrets it. To his credit, he does keep it down, but only barely, and once he swallows it, he coughs and gags into the crook of his arm, eyes watering.
Once the fit passes, he offers up a strangled, ]
... Not bad.
[ in a voice that's at least two octaves too high. ]
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His face twitches in disgust before he's even got it in smelling range and it only goes downhill from there. It smells like it was brewed in a prison toilet and not a clean one. ]
Right, so I'll just--
[ He brings it to his lips and knocks his head back, shuddering at the aftertaste as it hits him. The glass is slammed down on the bar as he ducks his head, eyes clenched shut.
When he straightens up, his neck twitches. ]
I've had worse.
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[ Still with that strained delivery.
Peter will be very quietly (very hurriedly) mixing up the last few bits of his other drink and gulping down a mouthful to wash out the taste of that purple shit. It takes away the worst of it, but not all of it, and Peter lets his tongue loll out briefly with disgust. ]
Okay, then.
[ He plucks up the bottle of the awful alcohol and sets it very, very, very far away from the two of them. ]
Just gonna leave this one over here.
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[ And he's just going to take a healthy gulp of his drink to try to wash that taste out. It kind of succeeds and he leans on the bar again, looking at Peter like live they've just been through a warzone together.
A moment late, he breaks into a laugh, wiping his mouth with the back of his right arm. ]
Oh, fuck me. That was disgusting.
[ Still laughing, he slaps Peter's shoulder. ]
What do I have to do to get you to drink more of it?
so sorry for the delay! feel free to ignore
Seriously? I almost died trying that stuff, and you’re askin’ me to drink more?
[ But there’s a telltale pause as he sips from his glass. Then, ]
I dunno. Make me an offer.
clarke;
[ Peter similarly gives the guy a look, though it's nowhere near as loaded or pointed. It's something that definitely says, You better get going before she makes good on that, buddy.
Thankfully, the guy takes his leave, grumbling to himself. He's definitely bitching about tourists, though not in so many words.
As the dude shuffles off, Peter snorts out a laugh. ]
You might wanna, like, jump in on a game, otherwise you're gonna get more weird shit like that. I'm pretty sure the dare he just gave you is mild to these guys.
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I guess all they’re doing is taking bets? But it’s mostly sounding like a version of Truth or Dare, but without the Truth option.
It’s kinda fun, so long as you don’t embarrass easily.
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What kind of things would you define as embarrassing?
thor;
[ Yeah, okay.
Admittedly? This is a little better, warmth-wise Not that Peter's liable to admit that aloud, with his words. Better to pass this all off as a joke, because like hell is he going to tell the dude that he had a decent idea.
But Peter isn't a hug-y kind of a guy. Tactile, sure; an arm thrown around someone's shoulders, or a companionable clap or punch on someone's upper arm, but hugs are... weird. It's why he holds himself a little awkwardly, a little rigidly. ]
I'm, uh. Peter, by the way. Peter Quill. Folks call me Star-Lord.
[ no, they do not. But Peter's still trying to make it happen. ]
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I am Thor, Son of Odin.
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Should I know who Odin is?
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[ but thor offers a shrug. ]
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[ Sorry, dude. Peter's more familiar with Clash of the Titans than The Vikings. ]
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One of the gods of thunder back on Earth, I think. Greek myth, I’m pretty sure.
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