WHO: Peter Quill
WHERE: fountain; inn
WHEN: 6 June
OPEN TO: all
WARNINGS: spoilers for Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2 but otherwise, none

FOUNTAIN

Peter's never had a fight one on one with a Celestial, considering he didn't even know they existed until a few days ago, but he doesn't think the sign of winning is waking up soaking wet. That sounds more like crushing defeat in his playbook (and probably death, come on), honestly, and he really, really hopes that the others figured out some way to blow Ego sky-high if he's going to go out like this.

It's been a long time since he's been swimming and he hadn't been expecting it so Peter makes the mistake of drawing in a big, nice lungful of fountain water before struggling up and over the edge of the damn thing. His vision is red and hazy, his head is screaming and he's not sure if he just threw up or coughed.

What an impression, right?

After laying on his back for a few long moments and not seeing any angels with guitars, his mom or anything else that would indicate that this is the hereafter, Peter decides to risk movement. He starts with wiggling his left foot, annoyed that water is everywhere, and when that works, he tries the right. Okay. Not paralyzed. He tries to push himself up to sit but he's so wiped out that he just lays there, looking up at a cloudless sky and wishing that he could just sleep this off and wake up in a bar on Nova Corps.

When a shadow crosses over his plane of vision, Peter manages to croak out a response.

"You mind not blocking my sun? I'm trying to dry out over here."

INN

When he finally gets up the energy to get off his ass and onto his feet, Peter drifts his way over to the Inn. It's easy enough to find; people are coming in and out of it in a steady stream and if there's anywhere to find information, it's going to be where the majority of people are. Information is good. Information will be helpful.

Information can't possibly be infuriating and better than knowing nothing at all, right? Wrong. After talking to a few people and realizing he's stuck in a place that has no system ID, no government and nobody in charge, Peter's a little more discouraged than he was earlier. He briefly revisits the idea of the afterlife before realizing that his version of the afterlife would have a much better soundtrack than people talking about badgers and making tea on a stove and he groans, putting his head down on the table in front of him. He clunks it a few times for good measure, thinking a concussion might be better than his current headache, and when he realizes this isn't doing him any good, he decides just to address everyone around him.

"So, what government did all of you guys piss off? Because, really, I've gone to prison more than once and I have basically, oh, an entire planet of gold Amazons after me right now but I have never been stuck somewhere that has no idea where where is. Come on. Aren't there any ships? (No, Peter, you already got told that, the nagging voice in his head reminds him. Funny. It sounds like Gamora.) Taxi? Magic carpet?"

He doesn't expect the answers to be forthcoming. He's pretty much resigned himself to that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh man. Footloose Guy really does not sound like he knows what happened, because Peter is pretty sure if he did, he wouldn't be sounding so cocky about it. There's no degree of Kevin Bacon that can make up for the way things went terribly, horribly wrong.

Because of this guy.

But should he tell him? Peter debates a moment, then clears his throat. "So like, let me just make sure I'm clear on what you're saying: You don't remember being on Titan with me and Mr. Stark and the wizard?"

"Absolutely not," Peter says emphatically. He doesn't know who any of those people are other than the kid, who is right here introducing himself, so Peter doesn't think that counts exactly.

"I'm thinking a hell of a lot of things happened that haven't happened yet for me. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Peter emphatically replies, nodding. "100%, totally. You're not the only one, our timelines are all over the place. I'm pretty sure it's because of Thanos screwing up, but it's kind of hard to prove right now."

He's working on it, though. At least as much as he can, considering. There's a lot of moving pieces.

"He got the stones," he adds, dropping his voice a little, although he's not really sure why. It's not like most people walking by would even know what the heck he meant. "All of them."

All of them. Everything that he'd been working toward preventing - even if Peter doesn't know the exact ramifications of Thanos having every stone - it doesn't sound good. Peter had his hand on one stone and it'd been too much.

"Shit," he swears, voice soft and low. "And there's nothing we can do about it while we're stuck here. It's not like big bad world destroyer is going to show up and take off his glove so we can beat him with it."

"Yeah, basically," Peter replies with a sour little frown. "I mean, I'm trying to learn as much as I can about this place, because maybe there's a possibility we can get back. We can't do anything about Thanos here, but we might be able to there. We almost did, actually."

He pulls in a deep breath and huffs it out. "I'm also kind of hoping that the people who aren't here, that they're still back home working on it, too, and not just stuck in another different dimension."

"Let's think on your side of it because mine is a little more pessimistic," Peter says. He's never been someone that brings the whole mood of a room down (usually he's the opposite) but he doesn't feel too hopeful about anything regarding Thanos based on the little knowledge he's gotten from the kid.

"Is there seriously just this, though? Weird village, weird woods, extra weird animals? Because between the two of us, it's not much to work with as far as escape plans go."

"So far, yeah," Peter replies. "I mean, apart from whoever is overseeing the whole thing, with the smart watches and matching clothes and stuff," he adds, holding up his wrist in example.

"At first I thought it must be Thanos, but the longer I'm here, I think we randomly ended up in a place looked after by somebody else. That's one of the big questions, how that all fits together. The best thing I can think to do right now is explore and keep an eye out, things might start to make sense if we're looking for patterns." Quantum physics Peter gets the basic theory of, but he's plenty aware that he's way out of his depth, here.

"I don't know how great I'm going to be at looking for patterns," Peter confesses, "but I'm willing to give it a shot. If Thanos is going to send the world to shit, I would like to be able to do something about it if I can."

The problem is - Peter doesn't know if that's possible. It rests heavy on him, knowing that he might be needed to change the world and he can't, and his first reaction to that is to be flippant and to pretend like he doesn't care. He can't get away with that anymore, not with the family he has to look out for.

"What kind of things do you think I should be looking for? You know, just in case?"

"Anything weird, I guess," Peter answers, and hates that he doesn't have a more specific answer. "Anything out of place, or that just sticks out. It doesn't even have to seem like it's related to Thanos or whatever." Because, at this point, they have no idea what that even really entails.

"I live upstairs in the inn, the first room that's not the room with all the Snuggies."

"And that isn't something you consider weird?" Peter asks, barking out a laugh at a description that includes Snuggies. He encountered his first with Peggy Carter but he hadn't realized there was a whole room of them here.

"Did they multiply or something? Get wet?"

"I mean, maybe," Peter allows with a considering cant of his head. "There's also a ton of socks in there, but like, every pair has wacky designs like peppers and American flags." Maybe Thanos opened a hole in space and time in the middle of a novelty sock factory.

"I don't know what's weirder, that there's so many Snuggies, or that there are Snuggies at all."

"I mean, if I was a supervillain the first thing I would do would be rip a hole in space and dump snuggies and all the unmatched socks into it," Peter says, laughing at the mere thought of it. It's ridiculous to even think about and now he wants to go up to that room and see what he can pull out of it.

"Do you think I can dress in nothing but snuggies and weird socks for the next month?"

"Oh yeah," Peter replies with an emphatic nod. "Like, way easy. You should. I'd offer to give you a prize for doing it but I don't have anything."

Nothing he's willing to part with, at least.

"I don't even know if people would notice, though. Snuggies are pretty standard in these parts."

"Okay, new plan. While I'm scoping out this place and trying to be inconspicuous, I'm going to wear Snuggies and weird socks and hide behind shrubbery."

Peter isn't up on pop culture after about, oh, 1987, but he thinks he can swing it.

"I'll send you regular reports."

001 🎧 on a magic carpet ride

FOUNTAIN

INN

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