SPACE OUTLAW

The last person to ever blink at seeing something or someone out of place was John Constantine, partly because he had seen too much weird shit, and partly because he was out of place most of the time himself. Still, he did glance over at the guy who had just walked into the bar, not sure if he was going to wreck the scouting John was currently doing. There was a demonic presence here somewhere, and that guy definitely was not it.

It had been hard to determine just where it was hiding, especially since this place was full of less-than-savory types who were not even the usual less-than-savory types one might find in such an establishment. They too eyed the newcomer, and John really hoped he was not going to screw anything up. So, after a moment, he got up from his seat and headed for the bar, nudging in next to the guy. “Got yerself a li'l lost, mate? ‘Cause pardon me fer sayin’, but I kinda don’ think this is yer type o’ place.”

Four eyes, no eyes, green skin, no skin - from a young age, Peter was thrust upon the odd assortment of extraterrestrial beings, many of whom wanted to eat him. He got used to their variety of appearances, some horrific in the beginning and others downright captivating. He was drawn to the unusual; he couldn’t help but to find it again, even if this time it wasn’t his usual cast of characters.

When the blonde in the trench coat delivered his line with that smooth to the ear Mary Poppin’s accent, Peter offered a soft chuckle and hid his offense behind a smile. “Why? Invite only? The guy at the door didn’t ask for a password or anythin’. Figured it was open to the public.”

He’d almost made the stupid mistake to pass by. Or maybe that was the smart decision - most people, when presented with some form of danger, would turn tail and run the other way, but Peter Quill was a special breed of stupid. He was the bold and brazen kind, the kind that ignored a warning in an obviously different language, one that he’s never seen before and one that takes his omni-translator a second to decipher. That should’ve been his first clue.

Instead, Peter opened the door to find a hole in the wall bar - full of an odd assortment of people. People who instantly know something’s off about their new visitor. Still, drinking and conversing go on as usual and the star-man settles himself at the bar with drink order in hand. The minute he sat, however, Peter could feel eyes on the back of his head.

“Ahh right,” he nodded and quickly looked over his patient list for the day, “Peter right?” he looked up and grinned, “Come take a seat, “I’ll just put this away.” he opened a drawer and placed the console inside before standing and making his way to his own huge chair.

“Oh more hours then I’d be comfortable admitting.” he chuckled, “But it makes me happy. And we all need something to keep out spirits up these days, right?”

So this was the only guy in the whole shebang qualified enough to give him the all clear? Peter didn’t have much confidence in that, but he’s sure enough been on the other end of that judgement table so he supposed he should at least give this a shot.

"At least it’s somethin’ harmless considering what’s goin’ on,” Peter returned as he thought back fondly on some of his more wilder years. “There’s a lot worse you can do to get your mind off of it.”

When: Post-Libertas Event Where: Genosha - Samson’s Office With: Open to all! :D

Samson was usually better at recalling when he had appointments, it was a little embarrassing to be caught red-handed doing a fist pump for winning a game on the small console in front of him. “Oh, excuse me.” he cleared his throat and gently set the device aside. 

“I take it you’re here for a chat? Or did you realise I have the best coffee machine in the place?” 

While it was safe to say that Peter dragged his feet the whole way to the good doctor’s office, the handheld and mini display of victory urged an amused snort out of him. It relaxed his shoulders some, but he still felt stand-off-ish about the whole situation.

“Chat, yeah. For, uh, Quill.” His eyes darted back to the gaming console and he had to ask, “Put a lot of hours into that thing?”