"Quill, do me a favor and explain to me just one last flarkin' time why we're in this Podunk, backwater sector? I mean, I'm sure our fearless leader's got a hell of a good reason t'be here, but for the life of me I CAN'T FIGURE IT OUT." The creature who the words belonged to was gripping onto the fur near his temples while he shouted, the soft-looking hair threatening to rip out by the root as it was tugged and pulled. Honestly, it was a pretty comical sight: this raccoonish individual that walked and talked like a man freaking out so badly that eyes bugged out from their sockets and foam started to collect at his muzzle.
In fact, the human (well, half-human technically) called Quill was just about to snort out and make a comment about rabies before a large, imposing green figure stepped between the two to interrupt. All muscle, sinew, and ink, the harsh-looking male grunted out curtly in response to the procyon's inquiry "I'm sure there is a good reason we're here. Quill wouldn't waste the time, money, and patience it took to get here if it weren't for something very important, isn't that right?"
The small amount of sarcasm that Peter Quill had in him seemed to die away at that sentence, shoulders tensing up and the Terran going rigid as his pace picked up some "Yup. Yup that's right Drax, exactly right. But it's all very secret, hush-hush type of business, the less ya know the better." A gloved hand passed smoothly through a thicket of wavy, dirty blond hair as the silence resulting from the comment cut into the man; risking a look back to the others, the Terran found that the three companions he had taken into the ragged slums of Oobagon VIII had stopped dead in their tracks to stare suspiciously at him.
"There is a good reason you brought us here…right Peter?" the green woman asked behind him, arms crossed tightly over her chest to show just how displeased she was at the current situation. Digits drummed nimbly onto an emerald arm, and Quill could have sworn he saw a hand dip down hastily, as if to grab the weapon at her hip. "Because, I can assure you…if this is a repeat of the Kyln where you went back for that musical device, I…no, we will make you pay."
Quill stiffened and slowly looked from Gamora, to Drax, and then to Rocket, each one practically bristling with expected anger over the fact that they were bamboozled by the infamous thief. The cracking of knuckles and the subtle hum of a charging weapon filled the air around him, forcing the Terran to extend his arms out and wave them frantically, his own eyes now wide as his very existence was threatened "Woah woah woah! C'mon cool it! I-"
Befor he coud continue on however, Drax stomped forward and held a thick finger out to Quill, snarling "We will not placate your desire to lower our core body temperatures until we are given further explanation!"
Really, the Terran was lucky for that little outburst because it caused three out of the four party members to stop what they were doing and just stare, most of them slack-jawed. Quill started off tentatively, eying the large male cautiously as if saying the wrong thing (meaning the one all three were thinking) would mean his doom "Drax…man, it's an expression…like calm-down cool it, right?"
Drax grumbled out, absolutely glaring at Quill as that meaty finger prodded the man's chest, his voice rough and low "It matters not! We demand that you tell us what we're doing on this slum of a planet, and for your sake, we hope it's for something important!" With three sets of eyes on him, each pair narrowed in suspicion, the leader of the Guardians knew he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of forgetting the reason, so the man simply gave out a heavy sigh and waved the other's along, motioning them to follow after him as he did what he did best: tell only half the truth.
"I'm meeting an old Ravager contact; he said he has a list of nouns for us. Yes, nouns: people, places, and things. And he has info on Yondu too s- would you all stop lookin' at me like that, it's a little unnerving." All eyes were on Quill now, that slack-jawed quality devolving into full-on open mouths as Rocket, Gamora, and Drax all gaped at him. "And yes I know it's a bad idea to have a Ravager contact still, and yes, I know it could be trap where Yondu's waiting behind a curtain to stab me repeatedly with that neat little arrow of his…but…well, I trust the guy. I grew up with him and he taught me a lot about what I was going into…we were both from the same system after all, gotta look after your own."
No one said anything for a while, the entire crew just keeping their heads bowed as they continued on at a weakened pace; it was eventually Gamora that broke the silence, her voice uncharacteristically tender as she spoke out softly "Peter…he tried to kill you. He tried to kill us. And after that trick you pulled with the infinity stone, I'm not sure if-"
The emerald woman was cut off there, a gloved hand raising up as Quill chuckled "Nah, you don't have to worry about that. Remember how quick Yondu found me when he really wanted to kill me? It was a matter of days…it's been months since I pulled that switcheroo on him and we haven't heard a peep about Ravagers comin' to get us now have we?" Seeing a few skeptical looks thrown in his direction, the Terran sighed out and paused outside a weather-worn building with the quaint title of 'DRINKS HERE', the simply titled bar apparently the meeting place the quartet had been heading towards this whole time. "Just…trust me. I know it's stupid but you've trusted me for stupider things, right?" A goofy grin was all that was left after that, Quill simply beaming stupidly towards each of his friends while muffled groans and obvious eye-rolling met him. Sure, it wasn't enthusiastic, but it was still a yes!
Clapping his gloved hands, Quill quickly began to rub them together frantically, puffing excitedly as he nodded to the other. "Now then, down to business, right?" Pushing the door open hard, the Terran burst into the not-so-crowded bar, exclaiming out before he even saw his old Martian friend "Makrow, I'm hooooome~"
The meeting, despite the groan-worthy entrance, actually went over pretty well; just like Quill had said, his contact was really looking out for him, helping not only the Terran but the entire team as well. Information on Thanos's suspected movements were provided which pleased Drax and Gamora beyond belief, and there were a few supply caches that would leave Rocket in inventing euphoria for days. And despite all that inside information that would no doubt leave the Guardians buzzing excitedly for a long while, it was nothing compared to the last gift Markow had for Quill.
Really, on the outside it didn't look all that impressive at all: a simple briefcase about the size of a datapad, locked up tightly with some unknown treasure in it. Something that had Quill trembling as he gingerly grabbed ahold of the container, the man practically frozen in awe as he tugged the thing closer. A sly cough from the Martian snapped Peter back to reality, the male giving his contact a sheepish grin before nodding and typing an obscene amount of numbers onto his own datapad, the things corresponding with just how many credits were depositing themselves in Makrow's account. The price actually made Rocket spit his drink out his nose, his nasal passages burning as his sneaky little mind went to work figuring out a way to relieve Quill from his new possession…it was nothing personal really. It was just like the old saying went: there's no honor among thieves.
The farewells were quick at that point, the Terran rushing the group out of the seedy tavern as soon as his hand grabbed onto the case's handle, his old friend simply giving a knowing smirk to the group before nodding after the human. For the most part, the quartet remained silent as they moved forward, approaching the ship at a heightened pace now that their leader had obtained what he came for, but occasionally, Rocket would break the silence to cough out and ask a few curt questions. "So…Quill. What's in th-"
Cut off before he could even finish the question, Peter waved the inquiry off dismissively and shook his head "It's nothing. Really, forget you even saw this alright?" Seeing a brow or two perked up in curiosity, the Terran sighed out and started anew "Look, it's not that I don't trust you it's just…well, it's really confidential stuff. I don't want to get you guys caught up in a fight you don't understand until I got all my facts straight, alright?" That much was enough to please Drax and Gamora, the green pair giving a few understanding nods and words before starting up a conversation with one another about Thanos.
It was Rocket who couldn't let the subject go, trying his best to get just a little bit of info on whatever was in that case…yet all his valiant efforts were for naught. Quill wasn't budging from what he had said earlier, and the male eventually went on to ignore the questions the procyon came up with for him. While it did silence the raccoon for the time being, it really only served to grow that seed of curiosity into a compulsion to know what was in that case, and Rocket was determined enough to find out at all costs.
"Flarkin' Quill and that stupid flarkin' case! Can't just be a –normal- guy and tell his buddy what he's got locked up huh?" Nimble hands were twitching some in a fit of rage as Rocket vented out, the raccoon positively seething over the fact that, after a full 48 hours, he was still no closer to knowing what Star-Lord got his hands on the other day, and why it had to be this great big secret.
He had tried numerous ways of getting the information too; constantly bugging Quill (both metaphorically and literally), hacking into the Terran's datapad to try and pull out any clues, building a few bombs (which were quickly discovered and confiscated) to blow the human's door of its hinges…every attempt he had made to either steal or learn about the case had ended in failure and a lecture and frankly, the raccoon was getting sick of it. "Thinks he's so cool…getting' that flarkin' case 'n showin' it off 'n not tellin' us about it…"
Grabbing a pillow off a couch, the raccoon continued to seethe, anger and rage over constant failures to satiate his curiosity finally were starting to boil over, and that meant the entire crew was soon going to have to deal with a feisty forest critter on the edge. Small fists slammed into the feather-stuffed thing as Rocket grumbled "Lookit him all charmin' 'n suave…actin' like a flarkin' covert spy and keeping secrets and…and…" The raccoon's eyes closed shut tightly, then snapped open as the male finally seemed to snap at last; grabbing the corner of the pillow, the Procyon began swinging the fluffy thing hard from side to side, slamming it into the corners of walls and on the ground while he screamed "Makin' me…beat up…PILLOWS!"
At that last word, the pillow went flying down the hall, disappearing out of sight while downy white feathers began to fall to the ground like snow. Rocket groaned out and grabbed at the bridge of his muzzle, squeezing the area there as he walked forward to retrieve the destroyed pillow. "Ugh, Quill's done a number on me…I give up though, th' big idiot won, so congrats Quill, ya succeeded in makin' me go insane." Reaching the end of the hall still grumbling softly "Beatin' up a da'nt pillow…" Rocket paused in front of Quill's half-open room and sighed out, little flashes of blue and white light illuminating him from the cracked door as he stared at Star-Lord's quarters.
At last he shook his head and let a hand pass over and behind his ears, the pointed things quickly flicking back up while the Procyon sighed out "Alright, time to admit defeat. I've had 'bout enough of this." Lightly, Rocket knocked on the Terran's door, and after no response the raccoon tugged the thing open a bit more to start his apology…to say 'sorry' for being childish and moody and for hacking into the Milano's power systems and threatening to turn off the life support systems. The first words were about to leave his lips when he stopped dead in his tracks, just staring at the scene playing out before him.
Quill was seated on the floor sans leather and pants, his eyes wide with amusement and lips outstretched in a dopey grin; but that wasn't the odd part, no. What had Rocket really questioning Peter's (and not to mention his own) sanity was how he was holding up a small pot with the seedling Groot, belting out obnoxiously " IT'S THE CIIIIIIRCLE OF LIIIIIIIIIFE! "
So, staring in a mixture of horror and interest, Rocket did what seemed natural to do in this situation: slam the door shut, smirk as the Terran fumbled to bring the potted alien down into his lap, and snort derisively "You got problems Quill…"