Ramey > open rp

[midvalley]

open rp post

MOSTLY ACTIONSPAM ★ PICTURE PROMPTS OR OTHERWORDLY PROMPTS WELCOME ★ TELL ME WHO YOU WANT IN THE HEADER

★ MUSELIST

( code from supersuits | gif from ahgiffers )

Comments

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Something prickles beneath the surface of his skin at those words, a quiet itch at the back of his mind, and he glances over, eyebrows knitting together. Still, he treats it with a grain of salt, as he does most things. ]

What’s that, some kinda wizard thing? “Someone, somewhere, is getting the stuffing kicked outta them”?

[striketwice]

I don’t ever remember having any kind of radar before.

[ He frowns at the ceiling for a bit before turning his gaze to Peter, searching his face like maybe the answer’s there. ] It just hit me all of a sudden.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He’s not entirely sure why Alec’s searching his face like that, and his eyes narrow on reflex. ]

I mean, I’m not complaining. It worked out right?

[ Part of him wants them to back away from this conversation, because it feels like teetering on a dangerous ledge. One falls move and they’ll fall. ]

Probably a fluke.

[striketwice]

[ Alec’s gaze lingers on Peter for the barest of seconds longer, almost as if he wants to ask “what did you do?”, but Peter couldn’t have been any more responsible for whatever that was than Alec, and Alec sure didn’t do anything. Whatever happened back there had to have just been instinct. Or a fluke.

He returns his gaze to the ceiling with a small smirk. ]

Just try to stay out of trouble. I’m not always gonna be around to save your ass.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He’s relieved when Alec finally backs off, that little coil of tension at the base of his neck finally relaxing. Peter unconsciously lifts his hand, rubbing at the spot.

Still, Alec’s words have Peter rolling his eyes, and he huffs out a derisive snort. ]

Whatever, dude. We’ll just call ourselves even for after I so valiantly bailed your ass out of jail.

[striketwice]

Are you still going on about that? I had it handled.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ without conviction, ]

Uh-huh. Sure. Okay.

[striketwice]

Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. [ he reaches over to give Peter a light shove ] Dick.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He bats Alec’s hand away without any real effort. ]

Says the guy shoving the wounded man. That’s a level of cruelty that’s just seriously messed up, man.

[striketwice]

[ He rolls his eyes ] If that nasty fucking tea hasn't killed you yet, a little push sure isn't going to. Don't play the pity card with me.

[nostalgiabomb]

I still think you shouldn’t knock it ‘fore you try it.

It’s not so bad, really.

[striketwice]

"Not so bad"? You look you're gonna be sick just thinking about it.

My "fuck no" still stands.

[nostalgiabomb]

That’s your problem, Brennan. No sense of adventure.

[striketwice]

I have a lot of problems, Quill. A lacking sense of adventure isn't one of them.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A weighty, contemplative pause. ]

I guess you're right.

You do have a lot of problems.

[striketwice]

[ He snorts, as if to say "you don't know the half of it".

He falls into silence for a bit, and for probably the hundredth time, he thinks he really should go. This time he listens, albeit reluctantly. Bed is sounding awful nice right now, and this little chair he's in just won't cut it. ]

Well, I think I'll leave you do your convalescing. Try not to let your tea get cold.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He lifts the mug of said tea, as if in toast. ]

Thanks.

[ Then, brightly, ] Hope you're less of an asshole in the morning.

[striketwice]

[ He pauses to consider that a moment, then shrugs. ]

Nah, I don’t think so.

[ He gives a little wave of farewell as he exits the room, and through he doesn’t feel quite as hazy and pleasantly warm as he had a few moments earlier, the feeling is still there, lazily drifting just under the surface.

Sleep doesn’t claim him immediately, but he’s still too tired to really focus, to really think about the events of the night with any kind of scrutiny, so he sits up for a while with a tablet, idly scrolling through news feeds for anything interesting. He doesn’t find much, and eventually that quietly content feeling drags him under. ]