[ There's something about the whole abduction thing that seems so passe to Peter, now. Like, it's so 1988 (just so 2000 and late) but, okay, maybe the crash-landing in some kind of interplanetary transport ship is a new part of the overall package. Not that this is new, either, the waking up on a crashing ship thing. There was this one time on a junker when he was just out of his teens when--
Nope, sorry, storytime is temporarily on hold, seeing as how the crash knocks Peter unconscious.
He wakes in the darkness a few minutes after the impact, when the lights have died and the exposed wires sizzle and pop. He takes stock of himself -- two arms, two legs, a head, and the appropriate number of fingers and toes -- before he finally wrestles with the harness and stumbles out of his seat. Fuck, his shoulder aches something awful, and he's going to be sore as hell come tomorrow. Assuming tomorrow ever comes, wherever this is.
... Where the hell is he, anyway?
There are others on the ship, still. He sees shadowy forms thanks to the light streaming in through the breach in the bulkhead -- and he only notices the presence of the bags when he spots others walking away with them. He grabs up one, claims another from a John Doe, and rummages through it until he finds the flashlight, which he wields with impunity. He casts the light around, examining the interior of the damaged fuselage, and lets out a low whistle. ]
Peter Quill | Guardians of the Galaxy
Nope, sorry, storytime is temporarily on hold, seeing as how the crash knocks Peter unconscious.
He wakes in the darkness a few minutes after the impact, when the lights have died and the exposed wires sizzle and pop. He takes stock of himself -- two arms, two legs, a head, and the appropriate number of fingers and toes -- before he finally wrestles with the harness and stumbles out of his seat. Fuck, his shoulder aches something awful, and he's going to be sore as hell come tomorrow. Assuming tomorrow ever comes, wherever this is.
... Where the hell is he, anyway?
There are others on the ship, still. He sees shadowy forms thanks to the light streaming in through the breach in the bulkhead -- and he only notices the presence of the bags when he spots others walking away with them. He grabs up one, claims another from a John Doe, and rummages through it until he finds the flashlight, which he wields with impunity. He casts the light around, examining the interior of the damaged fuselage, and lets out a low whistle. ]
This is a real fixer-upper, huh?