"Fair enough." The bar looked like the sort of place where people died of alcohol poisoning, rather. Peter listened to Crawford rant, almost making a joke about how it made the other man sound as if he cared. It clearly wasn't the case and he didn't have more time to waste.
"Do I look worried about that?" He quipped, an almost bored look in his eyes as he finished his drink. "Aliens had tried to eat or kill me since it was 8 years old, it becomes almost routine after a while."
Peter smiled, fingers clicking against the empty glass before he turned it upside down on the counter. Once Crawford grabbed it, he would find a small device under the glass, like a pager of sorts, made to send a signal. But now, Peter merely paid for the drink, leaving far more credits than what it was worth, and slid the glass towards the other man. The Guardian had made his offer, if the other wasn't going to listen then so be it. His team and he still had a lot of bars to check and work to do.
"See you around, buddy." After winking at him, Peter walked out of the bar swaying his hips. Out by the door, he brushed a finger against the comm device behind his ear to check if the rest of the Guardians had had any luck. It was going to be a long night.
At first, Crawford's only thought was "good riddance." People who asked questions were only ever trouble, and Quill had been offer some serious temptation to start giving answers. He doubted the man had any idea how hard he'd been hitting Crawford's main weakness. It had taken all of his resolve, every reminder of every set back, to not jump at even the chance to get home. Yet it all had been noise in his head. A pressure he didn't even properly recognize until Quill was actually gone.
It took several minutes before Crawford found the device. He had mind enough to act like it was just trash as he cleared off the bar. He could feel eyes on him still, in the wake of that asshole. Even when he took everything into the back to be sorted and washed, he palmed the thing and hid it in his pocket when no one was looking.
But it was like having a hot cinder in there. He was aware of its weight at every moment. The promise it held. The opportunity to finally leave. That pressure finally pushed through his resolve about an hour later. He just yelled out to someone that he was going on break and headed outside. Around the back of the bar, where there was barely any light, he had the closest thing this shit hold had to a cigarette and burned through the entire thing. Partially trying to talk himself out of doing stupid, but also to make sure that anyone who might still be watching him would think he was on an actual break.
Then, after stubbing out the "cigarette", he wandered off. To a poorly lit spot well away from the bar. No one had followed. As he fished out another "cigarette", he fumbled with the device, activating it. Well, assumed he activated it. All this space technology tended to be a little weird.
Technology was even weirder when it had been put together by a raccoon far too fonds of bombs but the pager wasn't going to explode. A green light when off and the panel at the front expanded to show a small keyboard. The screen displayed a brief text a minute later.
Ey. Changed your mind?
Peter left to check a few different bars, with some more success getting the bartenders to share what they knew but useful information was still scarce. When his comm came to light signaling that certain pager had been activated he had smiled to himself.
The trip home offer's still up.
There was a picture of a ship attached, the Benatar, on the planet's docking area.
The device was in no way what Crawford had expected. So when it started to move in his pocket he may have freaked out a little and nearly thrown it to the ground. So much for his casual act and hiding what he had. He pulled it out and looked over the messages.
A strange feeling washed over him. A mix of panic and sheer thrill, with a dash of something he tried to deny himself at all times: hope. But worst of all, indecision. He was at a deciding point with no way to go back once he made his choice. The safe route was to ignore it all and go back to work. Let this wild chance go. There would be others, eventually. Or he could take the risk. He'd be seen talking to the loud asshole outside the bar, so there would be no going back to work if things went sour.
He never actually made the decision. At least not consciously. But all at once things were happening. First he returned to the bar. Not to work, but up the back stairs to the closet of a room that he'd been sleeping in. There he gathered up what scant belongings he had into a bag that he slung over his shoulder. Before he even left the room, he was sending a message back with all he knew--the people the guy had been looking for would be at the bar in about 20 minutes.
Then he was out. Heading for the ship to ensure he was out of there before all hell broke loose. At least, that's what he assumed would happen. Those blue guys were serious trouble.
Deceiving people and being more than it seemed at first sight was very in line with the Guardians. If Crawford ended around them and didn't immediately try to punch them, he will figure it out quickly enough.
Peter was a bit disappointed when he didn't get an immediate response but decided to be patient, this couldn't be an easy decision for the guy if he really had been looking for a way out of the planet. And if Peter were in his shoes, he wouldn't trust a random stranger either, which is why he sent the picture of the ship.
As he waited, he meet with Rocket, Groot and Thor in the docks. None of them had any information but somehow they all had new weapons and the air of someone who got into a bar fight and won. Peter decided not to ask questions. Rocket snatched the device from his hands as soon as the new message came forward and demanded to know who was the informant and it if was trustworthy. Did it really matter? It was the only clue they had so far. Pleased with the new information and with no time to waste, Peter contacted Nebula to let her know. Rocket didn't look happy but he was obviously still itching for more action so he and Thor left to join the other at the bar and handle their Kree problem.
"I guess it's just you and me until the other guys shows up, uh?" As expected, Groot answered saying his name. "Yeah, okay, you can go inside and play videogames. I'll handle the rest."
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no subject
"Do I look worried about that?" He quipped, an almost bored look in his eyes as he finished his drink. "Aliens had tried to eat or kill me since it was 8 years old, it becomes almost routine after a while."
Peter smiled, fingers clicking against the empty glass before he turned it upside down on the counter. Once Crawford grabbed it, he would find a small device under the glass, like a pager of sorts, made to send a signal. But now, Peter merely paid for the drink, leaving far more credits than what it was worth, and slid the glass towards the other man. The Guardian had made his offer, if the other wasn't going to listen then so be it. His team and he still had a lot of bars to check and work to do.
"See you around, buddy." After winking at him, Peter walked out of the bar swaying his hips. Out by the door, he brushed a finger against the comm device behind his ear to check if the rest of the Guardians had had any luck. It was going to be a long night.
no subject
It took several minutes before Crawford found the device. He had mind enough to act like it was just trash as he cleared off the bar. He could feel eyes on him still, in the wake of that asshole. Even when he took everything into the back to be sorted and washed, he palmed the thing and hid it in his pocket when no one was looking.
But it was like having a hot cinder in there. He was aware of its weight at every moment. The promise it held. The opportunity to finally leave. That pressure finally pushed through his resolve about an hour later. He just yelled out to someone that he was going on break and headed outside. Around the back of the bar, where there was barely any light, he had the closest thing this shit hold had to a cigarette and burned through the entire thing. Partially trying to talk himself out of doing stupid, but also to make sure that anyone who might still be watching him would think he was on an actual break.
Then, after stubbing out the "cigarette", he wandered off. To a poorly lit spot well away from the bar. No one had followed. As he fished out another "cigarette", he fumbled with the device, activating it. Well, assumed he activated it. All this space technology tended to be a little weird.
no subject
Ey. Changed your mind?
Peter left to check a few different bars, with some more success getting the bartenders to share what they knew but useful information was still scarce. When his comm came to light signaling that certain pager had been activated he had smiled to himself.
The trip home offer's still up.
There was a picture of a ship attached, the Benatar, on the planet's docking area.
no subject
A strange feeling washed over him. A mix of panic and sheer thrill, with a dash of something he tried to deny himself at all times: hope. But worst of all, indecision. He was at a deciding point with no way to go back once he made his choice. The safe route was to ignore it all and go back to work. Let this wild chance go. There would be others, eventually. Or he could take the risk. He'd be seen talking to the loud asshole outside the bar, so there would be no going back to work if things went sour.
He never actually made the decision. At least not consciously. But all at once things were happening. First he returned to the bar. Not to work, but up the back stairs to the closet of a room that he'd been sleeping in. There he gathered up what scant belongings he had into a bag that he slung over his shoulder. Before he even left the room, he was sending a message back with all he knew--the people the guy had been looking for would be at the bar in about 20 minutes.
Then he was out. Heading for the ship to ensure he was out of there before all hell broke loose. At least, that's what he assumed would happen. Those blue guys were serious trouble.
no subject
Peter was a bit disappointed when he didn't get an immediate response but decided to be patient, this couldn't be an easy decision for the guy if he really had been looking for a way out of the planet. And if Peter were in his shoes, he wouldn't trust a random stranger either, which is why he sent the picture of the ship.
As he waited, he meet with Rocket, Groot and Thor in the docks. None of them had any information but somehow they all had new weapons and the air of someone who got into a bar fight and won. Peter decided not to ask questions. Rocket snatched the device from his hands as soon as the new message came forward and demanded to know who was the informant and it if was trustworthy. Did it really matter? It was the only clue they had so far. Pleased with the new information and with no time to waste, Peter contacted Nebula to let her know. Rocket didn't look happy but he was obviously still itching for more action so he and Thor left to join the other at the bar and handle their Kree problem.
"I guess it's just you and me until the other guys shows up, uh?" As expected, Groot answered saying his name. "Yeah, okay, you can go inside and play videogames. I'll handle the rest."