[OTA] shopping or whatever

[st_ripetail]

The 'boutique' was pretty much a nightmare of pink and glittery, at least in places, but the fact that the thing restocked itself was useful as fuck. Sure, you couldn't always rely on finding the same things you did before, but there was almost always something similar. And Rocket was used to repurposing and relying on junk, anyway. Junk was usually free. Nobody cared if you took their garbage, and they didn't care for long after they were blown up by what you'd turned the garbage into.

All of which was why Rocket spent a lot more time in the boutique/gift shop than most people would have expected, given that there was nothing pink and glittery about him. Except, now, a backpack which was still pink but no longer glittery, as the rhinestone-things had been pried off and store elsewhere.

As per usual, he climbed shelves and fixtures, evaluating items and occasionally shoving something into the backpack. There was a heavy emphasis on anything with clockwork or mechanisms, but also postcards, greeting cards, and clothes that had rhinestones, sequins, or beads.

Comments

[st_ripetail]

"Appropriate authorities? No, kid, you turn'em over to the one who wants'em enough to put up the bounty. 'Appropriate authorities' mostly can't be assed, that's why there's jobs for people like me." Rocket had almost said 'people like us'. He'd changed it at the last second because the kid probably wasn't an 'us' in this particular way.

[st_arkintern]

"But aren't the appropriate authorities the ones that want them the most? They have like, $1000 rewards for just more information."

Not that Peter Parker would ever take advantage of that if he did have more information.

[st_ripetail]

“Who wants it more, the one who says ‘tell me a story about that killer guy an’ maybe I’ll give you one’ or the one who says ‘bring him to me dead or alive for fifty’?” It seemed obvious to Rocket. “I’ll give you a hint, it ain’t the cheapskate who gives zero fucks about results.”

[st_arkintern]

Okay. Rocket definitely had a point, but it was not something that Peter was excited about doing. Profiting off doing the right thing felt bad somehow. And Peter wasn't entirely convinced that bringing people to the highest bidder was always going to be the right thing, either.

"How often do you do your rescue ops?" he asks.

[st_ripetail]

"I dunno, whenever Quill thinks we gotta apologize for somethin' or he wants some princess to think he's a hero. Or when Gamora gets that look on her face says we're fuckin' monsters." Rocket was a monster, but it was easier to get along with Gamora when she wasn't stomping.

[st_arkintern]

Peter considers this, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he lifts the rack he's been holding. "Where'd you want me to bring these?" he asks, still ruminating over what Rocket has said.

[st_ripetail]

"Just outside my room. I can shove it in the rest of the way." And then find something to cut it down with. Or find a way and place to melt it. Or something. Who knew? At worst it was something to climb on. "But seriously, kid, only listen t'Quill with one ear. Membership probation's not a thing."

[st_arkintern]

Rocket's declaration leads to one final question:

"Does that mean I'm a full member, then?"

[st_ripetail]

“Yeah, sure, fine, the fuck do I care?” The kid was okay, and if the eagerness to please was likely to get annoying with time it was also the bit that’d get sanded off the fastest if the Guardians actually started doing their thing somehow. Besides, with only Quill and Rocket around, it was weird to still be ‘Guardians’ of anything. “Welcome an’ shit, start thinkin’ about how you’re gonna survive jail. ‘Cause number twenty-four’s definitely happening sooner or later.” Not in the Inn, probably, unless it ended up being number twenty-four.

[st_arkintern]

Peter's face immediately brightens. He's not even thinking about how he'll survive jail right now, even though Rocket thinks he should.

"You'll let Mr. Star-Lord know, right?"