Peter Quill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nostalgiabomb) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2018-08-24 07:35 pm
nostalgiabomb) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-08-24 07:35 pm
[ open; ] the city streets are empty now
who: Peter Quill & open!
what: Quill is coming back from a canon update, which includes four years and the events of Infinity War. So he's going to be a little off his game.
when: August 24th and onward
where: All around Riverview & a bit outside the walls
warnings: none, aside from Quill having a pretty rough time
i. the sun always shines on tv;
[ Peter wastes a couple days, sitting in his apartment, staring at a wall. He catches Mantis hovering around, sometimes, and occasionally, he tries to send her a small, reassuring smile. Something that says, It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need a second. Groot doesn’t fully understand why Peter is so— weird, but the kid still recognizes that there’s something wildly wrong. And as the days drag on, Groot just drags over the Zune while Peter stares, offering Peter an earbud.
It’s on the third day that Peter realizes he can’t just— do this. He can’t keep moping. Because Mantis and Groot are clearly worried, and— what if the others show up? Peter did, after all. And Mantis and Groot are still here, hale and whole. So maybe the others will arrive, too. Any day now. And if they find out how completely useless he was while he waited, he’d never hear the end of it.
So he scrubs his face and announces that he’s going to take Groot to the beach.
Of course, about ten minutes after they arrive at the banks of the river for a day of fun in the sun, or whatever the hell Peter’s calling it, Groot immediately wanders away, slipping through the legs of the various beachgoers as he chases down one of those alien sugargliders.
Predictably, Peter panics as he works to shove past the crowd. ]
Groot—
Groot, get back here!
ii. new york groove;
[ A day or two later, Peter’s back at work. Unwise, considering he’s still injured, but the four walls of his apartment were quickly becoming suffocating.
His job with the Perimeter Guard, such as it is, is to scout the area, to map it out, to uncover valuable goods buried in the dirt or left abandoned in reasonable condition, and most days, he’s good at it. He’s agile and clever and does one hell of a job avoiding the monsters that lurk in the abandoned areas.
But today, he seems to be attracting trouble – though truthfully, he’s seeking it out, though he’s unconscious of it. Rather than veer out of the angry looking creatures’ way, he stumbles headlong into them. And for a while, he’s forging a decent path, shooting out huge, burning chunks of them and leaving the corpses to rot in the woods.
And then he’s not.
Peter never played Dungeons & Dragons as a kid, but if he did, he’d instantly recognize a Bulette when he sees one.
Or more accurately, he’d recognize a Bulette as it’s leaping at him, all gnashing teeth and sharp claws and hard armored plates. Peter manages to dodge out of the way, but only barely, and he goes tumbling and rolling across the jungle floor.
Little help? ]
iii. yesterday once more;
[ Peter was in the middle of wandering the aisles of Blu-Rays and DVDs in some electronic goods stores. In his arms is a stack of movies, old favorites and new ones he had picked out based solely on how interesting he found the covers.
The criteria for his current selections: Would the other Guardians like these? So far, he has picked out The Wizard of Oz for Groot and The Dark Crystal for Mantis. Along the way, he picks up Predator for Rocket and Rambo for Drax, because, well, they're going to be here eventually, right? And the films would be decent ice breakers, once they arrive
And he was in the middle of reluctantly looking for something for Nebula (would she have a good enough sense of humor about it if he picked up Robocop, or would she just threaten to sew his face to his balls like she usually does?), except right now, he's frozen in front of a shelf, completely zoned out while he faces a copy of Footloose.
Sorry if he's in your way, fellow patron. ]
iv. turn to stone;
[ It's been over a week since he's been back, and Peter's out on a very, very late night grocery run. He's been putting off getting them various odds and ends – paper towels, boxes of cereal, various snacks – and apparently he's decided tonight's the night—
(because the bed is too empty, and the atmosphere in the apartment is too fucking heavy, and Groot and Mantis are so fucking sad, and he can't stay in there, he really can't, not a single minute more, because shouldn't the other Guardians have been here by now? Shouldn't Gamora have come back with him, since they left together?
Why isn't she here?)
—because he's trying to be productive.
He's also decided, apparently, that baskets and carts are completely unnecessary. So here he is now, a former thief turned Guardian of the Galaxy, juggling his items in his arms as he stands in the refrigerated dairy section. He shuffles things around and reaches for a jug.
And fumbles it.
The plastic bursts open as the jug lands, milk splashing across the floor. It pools around his boots, and for a second, he just stares at it all before he lets out a helpless laugh, scrubbing his face.
One might think that life in space would have erased Peter's love of Terran idioms, but it hasn't, really. He used them whenever he could. Phrases like "killing two birds with one stone," or "letting the cat out of the bag," or going the "whole nine yards" were pretty common from him as he grew up on the Ravager ship.
There's another Terran saying that Peter uses sometimes: Don't cry over spilled milk.
Guess who's trying desperately not to do just that? ]
what: Quill is coming back from a canon update, which includes four years and the events of Infinity War. So he's going to be a little off his game.
when: August 24th and onward
where: All around Riverview & a bit outside the walls
warnings: none, aside from Quill having a pretty rough time
i. the sun always shines on tv;
[ Peter wastes a couple days, sitting in his apartment, staring at a wall. He catches Mantis hovering around, sometimes, and occasionally, he tries to send her a small, reassuring smile. Something that says, It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need a second. Groot doesn’t fully understand why Peter is so— weird, but the kid still recognizes that there’s something wildly wrong. And as the days drag on, Groot just drags over the Zune while Peter stares, offering Peter an earbud.
It’s on the third day that Peter realizes he can’t just— do this. He can’t keep moping. Because Mantis and Groot are clearly worried, and— what if the others show up? Peter did, after all. And Mantis and Groot are still here, hale and whole. So maybe the others will arrive, too. Any day now. And if they find out how completely useless he was while he waited, he’d never hear the end of it.
So he scrubs his face and announces that he’s going to take Groot to the beach.
Of course, about ten minutes after they arrive at the banks of the river for a day of fun in the sun, or whatever the hell Peter’s calling it, Groot immediately wanders away, slipping through the legs of the various beachgoers as he chases down one of those alien sugargliders.
Predictably, Peter panics as he works to shove past the crowd. ]
Groot—
Groot, get back here!
ii. new york groove;
[ A day or two later, Peter’s back at work. Unwise, considering he’s still injured, but the four walls of his apartment were quickly becoming suffocating.
His job with the Perimeter Guard, such as it is, is to scout the area, to map it out, to uncover valuable goods buried in the dirt or left abandoned in reasonable condition, and most days, he’s good at it. He’s agile and clever and does one hell of a job avoiding the monsters that lurk in the abandoned areas.
But today, he seems to be attracting trouble – though truthfully, he’s seeking it out, though he’s unconscious of it. Rather than veer out of the angry looking creatures’ way, he stumbles headlong into them. And for a while, he’s forging a decent path, shooting out huge, burning chunks of them and leaving the corpses to rot in the woods.
And then he’s not.
Peter never played Dungeons & Dragons as a kid, but if he did, he’d instantly recognize a Bulette when he sees one.
Or more accurately, he’d recognize a Bulette as it’s leaping at him, all gnashing teeth and sharp claws and hard armored plates. Peter manages to dodge out of the way, but only barely, and he goes tumbling and rolling across the jungle floor.
Little help? ]
iii. yesterday once more;
[ Peter was in the middle of wandering the aisles of Blu-Rays and DVDs in some electronic goods stores. In his arms is a stack of movies, old favorites and new ones he had picked out based solely on how interesting he found the covers.
The criteria for his current selections: Would the other Guardians like these? So far, he has picked out The Wizard of Oz for Groot and The Dark Crystal for Mantis. Along the way, he picks up Predator for Rocket and Rambo for Drax, because, well, they're going to be here eventually, right? And the films would be decent ice breakers, once they arrive
And he was in the middle of reluctantly looking for something for Nebula (would she have a good enough sense of humor about it if he picked up Robocop, or would she just threaten to sew his face to his balls like she usually does?), except right now, he's frozen in front of a shelf, completely zoned out while he faces a copy of Footloose.
Sorry if he's in your way, fellow patron. ]
iv. turn to stone;
[ It's been over a week since he's been back, and Peter's out on a very, very late night grocery run. He's been putting off getting them various odds and ends – paper towels, boxes of cereal, various snacks – and apparently he's decided tonight's the night—
(because the bed is too empty, and the atmosphere in the apartment is too fucking heavy, and Groot and Mantis are so fucking sad, and he can't stay in there, he really can't, not a single minute more, because shouldn't the other Guardians have been here by now? Shouldn't Gamora have come back with him, since they left together?
Why isn't she here?)
—because he's trying to be productive.
He's also decided, apparently, that baskets and carts are completely unnecessary. So here he is now, a former thief turned Guardian of the Galaxy, juggling his items in his arms as he stands in the refrigerated dairy section. He shuffles things around and reaches for a jug.
And fumbles it.
The plastic bursts open as the jug lands, milk splashing across the floor. It pools around his boots, and for a second, he just stares at it all before he lets out a helpless laugh, scrubbing his face.
One might think that life in space would have erased Peter's love of Terran idioms, but it hasn't, really. He used them whenever he could. Phrases like "killing two birds with one stone," or "letting the cat out of the bag," or going the "whole nine yards" were pretty common from him as he grew up on the Ravager ship.
There's another Terran saying that Peter uses sometimes: Don't cry over spilled milk.
Guess who's trying desperately not to do just that? ]
no subject
[ he repeats it back flatly, eyes narrows and mouth twisted to one side in distaste.
But, considering he's out in some random grocery store, shopping in that weird hour between "way too late" and "way too early," admittedly looking like some lost kid in a giant shopping mall—
Well. The shoe kind of fits, doesn't it? ]
It's Peter Quill, by the way. Just so we can avoid making "Creepy Tree Dad" a thing.
no subject
For the record, I was talking about your talking tree, not you. You just seem....distracted. But I'm Mikumo Guynemer. [She puts one of the gallons down on the conveyor belts and takes a step back so that he can go first. He has more items.] I perform at the club, Element. You should come watch. With or without your tree.
no subject
Element? [ He repeats it back. He's pretty sure he's seen it, but Peter almost exclusively haunts Riverview's dives. Mostly because they tend to be cheaper and a little more familiar. ]
Yeah. Maybe I'll come take a look.
[ He gestures toward the carton of milk as it moves down the line. ] And I'll try not to break anything.
no subject
Yes, it's one of the more packed nightclubs in this area. If you decide to come, you should come a little earlier in the night to get a table. Otherwise.... Well, I hope you like being packed back-to-back.
[Like sea spiders in a can.]
Just make sure that you take care of yourself and your goods. Otherwise, you'll just be back here, staring at the dairy cases in despair.
no subject
[ This, a little airily, in a way that's clearly forced. (A guy having an existential crisis in front of fridges isn't likely to shake it off that quickly, after all.)
The clerk rings him up, and Peter sheepishly explains the mess he left, happily paying for spilled milk he left in the aisle. That done, he scoops up his bag, mindful to keep the bottom of it supported so he doesn't lose any more goods on his way out. ]
I, uh. I appreciate the help. It was nice meetin' you.