I'm High on Believing.

@ The God of Mischief.

[I'm going t be naughty and keep my response short so we can time skip ]

Groot wasn't an idiot, he understood Rocket was giving him away out, a diversion, a window of opportunity as Quill would call it. He got up and cut down a different alleyway, deliberately taking sporadic turns to lose the cops. Eventually he found what he was looking for: a small park with a handful of trees in. Without hesitation he used the trees as camouflage and, once he was sure he'd lost the cops (they made a hell of a lot of noise as they passed his location) he slowly headed down the street in the direction they'd parked the Milano in. He'd be safe there, and he was sure Rocket would find him there too. After an hour or so of creeping and hiding when he felt he needed to, he reached Quill's ship. Relieved, he let himself inside and headed to his bunk for a nice nap.

---

Peter still slept.

@ peter quill.

[No really if you ever feel it necessary go right ahead, I don't care so long as the plot itself isn't ruined by it. ]

Rocket watched the scene wind down a stop, the cop whose leg was now ruined be toted off in an ambulance of some sort, two of them escort the girl off (he had mixed up the wiring of the second car, and in honesty he was sort of grateful-- the kid didn't need to be harmed, though he'd never tell anyone that he cracked under the pressure), and one run after Groot calling for more back up. For a while Rocket traveled by the rooftops, admiring the lacier of garments that some of the residents left out to dry across ropes between the buildings, with a hunch that it was probably the best way to remain unseen after demolishing a leg.

It was near sun rise again when he finally climbed into the window of an apartment to take the stairs back down rather than a fire escape. Being nonchalant was the best way to keep hidden. Once he hit the streets again Rocket beelined for the Milano, knowing that it would be Groot's prime hiding spot.

"I told you kids were bad news." He shouted as he entered the ship, not even bothering to look for Groot.

With a huff he made his way to his bunk and sat to run a paw through the fur behind his ears: this wasn't going to be a pleasant way for Quill to wake up, especially after their last conversation, but it was now or never in terms of getting ahold of him, they had to get going and quickly. Rocket pulled the small tablet-like phone out from his back pocket, dreading the conversation that was about to take place.

---

There was a buzzing that woke Gamora up the second time, one that came from under Peter. Instead of doing anything about it though she opted to bury her head under the pillow, ignoring the fact that she was still pressed to him.

[[also, feel free to do a one-sided phone call, we know the vast details ourselves~]]

@ The God of Mischief.

Peter wasn’t fully awake but he reached for the phone and answered. He squinted at the screen as the call connected, finding himself face to face with Rocket. He hoped Gamora wasn’t in the shot of the camera on his device. He also realised he shouldn’t have hit answer with video.

“What the heck do you want?” He yawned.

Rocket’s response barely registered with him until the words arrest, kidnap, cops, guns, probable warrant, and we’re hiding on the Milano came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Holy shit we can’t trust you two at all can we?” Peter asked as he rolled off the bed. “We’re now coming. Sit tight and just… don’t touch anything okay?” He hung up and shook Gamora. “Hey, we got to go. Like now.”

@ peter quill.
Don't touch anything Rocket mocked as soon as the screen went dark. What was he supposed to do, float? Grumbling about what was a clear body next to Quill in the call, that obviously the Terran had spent the night making conquests across bars, while all he got to do was babysit an adolescent tree Rocket stalked off to try and find Groot, or if he couldn't to find something of Peter's to touch out of spite. Maybe both.

---

Gamora had paid no attention to the call that Peter tool so when he shook her side she jumped at the rough jostle that only increased the pounding in her head. She buried her head deeper under the pillow with a quiet growl not quite willing to heed his tone of voice (or any voice for that matter), lights and sounds weren't anything she was game for at the moment. If Peter wanted to leave he could: urgency wasn't currently in her vocabulary unless it involved her directly. In the end she figured that someone was on their way over, or that they were supposed to meet whoever, and he didn't want to be caught together like this. Not that she blamed him entirely.

@ The God of Mischief.

Groot was curled up, trying to get to sleep. He was exhausted after running from the cops, but Drax was in the next room watching a movie. He was drunk from the sounds of it and his laughter was keeping Groot awake.

[I felt bad Drax hadn’t been mentioned for a while ]

---

Peter pulled on his belt, checked his holsters were in position and shrugged his jacket on before he bothered to shake Gamora again. “We got to go now! Cops are looking for Groot we’re going to have to ditch the planet, get him out from under their radar. Come on.” He bent down to pull his boots on. What the hell was wrong with Gamora? He was trying hard to be patient about this. Didn’t she know what go meant?

@ peter quill.

"Hey." Rocket deadpanned as he entered the bunk-room, switching his pillow with Quill's.

The conversation was pretty much over at that. Yeah, he was happy that Groot made it back, no he wasn't going to kill him, but in the end the night went over rather unsuccessfully-- not that it was anyone's fault in particular. He'd hoped to get a few in him, maybe find a woman, but certainly to at least get tanked and fall asleep, or if he was lucky to find a lead somewhere in there. The first night was always one for relaxing unless it was deemed unnecessary, and that wasn't obtained. So instead he dropped his vest to the floor curled up in his bed space, Peter's pillow under him in a deliberate attempt to muss it up. He'd save the tinkering for when the trip became unbearable again.

---

"What?" Gamora damn near snarled as she sat up, her eyes wide.

Leave real gravity? Leave the open air? With a raging headache to go and sit around with four all-too-often rambunctious men? Already she knew the restraint to not skin anyone was going to be hard to procure. It took every single bit of motivation, a lot of reminding herself that out of all of them Groot was someone who still needed to be guided and therefore shouldn't be screamed at or pruned and that really she cared about him, to drag herself off of the bed and put her boots back on before running her hands lightly across her hips, making sure everything was still tethered. She didn't so much as acknowledge Peter as she stalked out the door and started on the way back trying to ignore the pressure in her temples as daylight hit her like a brick wall.

@ The God of Mischief.

Peter followed Gamora, pausing only to drop the key to the room in the slot on the desk that served as the checkout. He had to jog to catch up with her when he finally hit the street, and without thinking properly he made a grab for her hand, part of his mind still stuck on the mindset from the previous night, when they’d well… just laid there while he’d whined about his father. “Gamora I’m sorry okay I promise we’ll travel to the next planet or space station, whatever we come across. We can find work, get supplies, figure things out, maybe give Yondu a call…We just need to get Groot safe.”

---

Groot saw Rocket with Quill’s pillow and muttered the phrase he’d picked up off the would-be outlaw. “Don’t touch my stuff.” With that said he rolled over, made himself comfortable and tried to down out Drax’s noise.

@ peter quill.

Quickly she withdrew her hand from him with a glare icy enough to freeze suns. "Don't you dare try to cater to me, Star-lord." Gamora's words were terse, mocking, and accompanied by a scoff as she recovered from the glare, her gaze instead focusing forward.

It wasn't Peter she was upset with though, hell, it wasn't even Groot or Rocket, if it wasn't for her bright plan B her head wouldn't currently be threatening to explode: especially since they were already headed back to the Milano. Plan A apparently would have been the prime but curiosity had gotten the better of her. She should know better by now than to rush off into things. It was her own fault.

"And you're getting ahold of him the second we get out of this atmosphere." She added as a sharp afterthought, dealing with a bitchy Quill wasn't on the agenda.

Without consulting Peter she picked up to a jog through the city and across streets, blatantly ready to be rid of the light that plagued her eyes. Though at this rate her current hope was that the acceleration against the gravity of their exit wouldn't pain her enough to black out: her first stop once boarding was certainly going to be the drawers of the tiny counter-top that sat next to the shower stall, she was desperate for something to stop the throbbing.

---

"Would you be quiet?" Rocket complained at Drax as he kicked the wall with his heel, before adding a mumble to Groot, "It ain't hurtin' no-one."

There was a grumble on the other side, a swear or two, but eventually the noise level declined at least somewhat. Rocket rolled over onto his side then, tossing Quill's pillow back over to the opposite bunk (bored with it), and made a mental note to find some form of booze, probably in Drax's hold, to ease the claustrophobia that was already beginning to creep in.

@ The God of Mischief.

Once he was on board, Peter did a quick run through the ship to check everyone was there. There was Groot sleeping. And there was Rocket either sleeping or faking it or something. There was Drax watching movies, oblivious to what was going on. And there was Gamora, presumably, Peter couldn’t be sure exactly as the door was locked. He moved to the front of the ship, throwing himself in the pilots chair and started the Milano up. He didn’t pause, not even to strap himself in, as he launched them off planet, catapulting the Milano out of the planet’s atmosphere.

Once they were off he keyed a random set of co-ordinates from memory into the navigation system before setting the controls to auto-pilot. He stood up, took himself through to the main room and to the communications console. Slowly, he keyed in Yondu’s number. Was he actually about to do this? Yes, yes he was. He took a deep breath and hit dial. It took a few minutes for his call to connect but once it did Yondu answered instantaneously, his big, unsmiling face greeting Peter as his voice boomed around the Milano.

“Well look who it is,” Yondu said, still unsmiling. “Mr Quill, what can I do for you?”

Yeah, Peter thought, this was a bad idea. “Hey Yondu. Long time… How you been?”

---

Groot was still sleeping??

[I don’t know if you want to be Yondu? Or if we share him? Or if Gamora or Rocket are going to hear the call and come join in? ]

@ peter quill.

[[what if we drop Rocket and Groot for the duration of the call and share Yondu? And I'll sorta drag Gamora into it, it makes good reasoning for ambushes later~]]

The last second shower Gamora had decided to take once they'd cleared the upper exosphere had helped some, but true to her luck she was unable to find anything that'd help her medicinally. It was almost defeatedly that she left the tiny bathroom, a wet braid put into the length of her hair, and tried to find Peter to ask if he knew where something, anything that would help her head might be hiding.

"And just what do we have here?" The voice stopped her in her tracks on her short-lived journey to the cockpit to whine.

She gave a confused look over to where Peter was situated before rolling her eyes and doing her best to not cause the small scene Yondu had insinuated: Gamora hadn't meant to be literal earlier, or at the very least she thought she'd have to bitch him out before he finally got around to this. She made herself a seat though, knowing that they'd end up talking about her whether or not she was present, somewhere behind him because she'd be damned if she wasn't going to hold this one over Peter's head.

@ The God of Mischief.

[yes that works]

Peter couldn’t help but glare at Gamora. He was pissed off with her for how she’d treated him that morning, especially given the night they'd had before. He wasn't going to admit it, but it had left him feeling a little bit sore. He turned his full attention back to Yondu.

“Yondu, if you’re going to be like that I’m going to hang up,” Peter told him plainly: he wasn’t fucking about right now. He wanted his answers.

“Then hang up,” Yondu retorted. “I ain’t the one who called you. Gave up doing that three months ago after you dodged damn near all of my calls. Which reminds me, I’m still going to kill you for that little stunt you pulled down on Xandar.”

“Oh yeah?” Peter asked. Jesus what was wrong with everyone else in this pissing galaxy? Why were they incapable of moving on. “You’ve threatened me before. Never made good on it though.”

@ peter quill.

Yondu shook his head, sloughing of Peter's observation as though it had never happened. "Just what exactly do you want out of this, boy? I'm busy."

The words reverberated off of the walls as Gamora reclined on her seat. She probably deserved Peter's glare, it probably shouldn't have upset her, but quietly she hoped Yondu would try to hold his new threat to anything more than nothing: it was clear where Peter got his knack for hollow threats from. The pounding in her head hadn't ceased yet and the small help that the shower was proved not to last long.

"Would you please lower the volume?" Gamora's words were barely more than a slightly annoyed whisper as she took a hand to her temple.

@ The God of Mischief.

Peter sighed. Of course Yondu was busy. He was always busy, just how he’d always slaved to put jobs together. “Then I’ll keep it nice and short for you, should I?”

Yondu laughed. “Suits me.” He didn’t adjust the volume of his voice. If anything, he got louder. Peter figured he was probably trying to fuck Gamora off.

“I want us to meet,” Peter told him. “We got some shit we need to hash out.”

@ peter quill.

"Hah! Do you think I actually have time to give you? What part of 'I'm busy' don't you get?" Yondu's eyes actually lit up for a moment.

Still where Gamora sat was probably the best spot unless she wanted to curl up on the floor of the shower stall: dealing with Rocket or Drax would only result in an untimely death and the rest of the Milano was undoubtedly too uncomfortable in other various ways that metal could be. If their banner went on in circles for much longer though she had no problem ending it for Quill.

"I'll make you a deal." He cut suddenly, growing serious again. "I'm gunnah end the call, you ain't gunnah try to get my attention again, and I won't come and skin your pale pinky ass into a lamp shade."

@ The God of Mischief.

“Yondu we need to meet,” Peter repeated, his voice colder and harsher than usual. “And you’re not busy. If you were busy you wouldn’t have answered my call. How did I put up with your bullshit for twenty years?” He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to pick fights with Yondu, not if he wanted to get his own way.

“Look I’m going to be straight with you. I need answers and you’ve got them. You give me the information I want and I will happily let you beat the shit out of me or kill me, whatever you want to do, I won’t fight. You got my word. Just… Just name a place for us to meet at okay? You can name the terms. I’ll come alone if you want. I’ll come unarmed. Whatever. I just… Can you do this for me, please?”

@ peter quill.

"Would you quit that damn whining? If it's that important I'll meet you on Morag, unarmed; one on one, and we'll see if your compensation for my time will get you anywhere." Yondu eventually sighed before giving his attention over to Kraglin who'd invited himself over, complaining about some issue or another with coordinates and the bastard who read them the wrong ones. After a series of swears and something thrown he came back only to add, "I'll deal with your ass later, Quill, just make sure you're there." And then, "Alone." Before the screen went black.

Gamora held her reclined position, thankful that not only was the noise done with but that they were finally en route to something, even if it wasn't quite work or supplies. It would at least, or rather she hoped it would, mean that Peter would finally be rid of the incessant foul mood that no one could stand. That somewhere in her heart, as nagging a thought it was, she couldn't stand.

@ The God of Mischief.

Peter didn’t say a word to Gamora as he passed her on his way to the cockpit. He leaned over the co-pilots chair and typed the co-ordinates into the navigation panel, keeping it on auto-pilot for now. When the screen flashed up Morag. Please confirm your destination. he felt a chill run through him. Funny how all this bullshit with the orb and Yondu that led to him finding Gamora, Rocket, Groot, and Drax all started down there. If he was the sort of person that believed in destiny or whatever the hell you liked to call it, he might have seen some sort of sign in it.

He then took himself back through to the room he’d left Gamora in. “Take it you heard all that, right? Don’t need to repeat myself?” He was deliberately short with her and didn’t even wait for an answer, taking himself through the Milano towards his bed. He sat down, glanced at his pillow, noted the fur and switched it for Drax’s without making a big fuss about it. He’d get Rocket later. Well, that was provided he had the time. Peter had a feeling that meeting Yondu one on one would mean his laters were limited. He’d try hard not to die of course, but hell, he had a feeling it would be a close run thing.

Trying to push all thoughts of Yondu, Morag, and Gamora from his mind, Peter rolled over to face the opposite wall. He figured the best thing he could do right now was try and come up with some sort of plan. Either that or take a nap.

@ peter quill.

Slowly Gamora felt herself slip into what had quickly become her usual state of denial, not allowing herself to even daydream about how comfortable it would probably be for her pounding head to lay next to Peter: it only made sense that things ended where they started. She'd be damned though if she let herself fall further into vulnerability when it came to him, let alone the fact that Rocket and Drax would likely never let her live it down even if she was able to pass it off as a purely medicinal experiment.

So instead of dragging herself forth and trying to soothe her head against Peter's side she curled into a small ball and contemplated their current situation. From the stories she'd heard and from what she observed on Xandar she had mixed feelings about Yondu but one thing she was certain of, she had about as much trust in his word as she did for anyone but the four she lived with, near none. It was probably foolish to let Peter charge out on his own, though she hardly saw the alternative. If there was a group surly nothing would get accomplished not to mention the fact that trying to reason with him was near impossible once he'd put his mind to something. All in all, it only made the pounding in her brain worse.

---

Rocket was somewhere in limbo when he heard Peter come in. With a small sigh he curled himself into the sheet that covered his cot and fought with himself for a small while over whether or not he should say anything.

"We headed anywhere?" He finally managed, taut and uncomfortable after feeling damn near like a damsel in distress.

@ The God of Mischief.

“Morag,” Peter told Rocket. He’d fixed his gaze on a smudge of dirt on the Milano’s wall. “We’re enroute now. I’m meeting Yondu.” He didn’t say anything else. He wouldn’t need to. He knew Rocket had read the paper requesting the file, he knew rocket knew Yondu abducted him in the first place, and he knew Rocket was capable of putting things together and filling in the gaps for himself.

[I am desperate to time skip to Quill getting a beating ]

@ peter quill.

[mmmmthis seems appropriate then, yes.]]

It was to the sound of an alert ping that Gamora finally moved from fetal position to an upright position in the pilot's seat when no one else bothered to check the issue. There were two alerts floating above the dash by the time she managed to sit: the distance to Morag that had shortened considerably and a low fuel status. Apparently they were initially closer to Morag than she had believed though in the end, with the contents of the fuel tank nearing the 1/4th mark, it might have been a better thing.

It was as she flipped off the autopiloting system, finally bored enough with her headache on the decline, that felt a voice start to nag her. There was no way that they could allow Peter to go down there alone, there was no good reason to trust Yondu, but there was more than likely no talking him into or out of anything he'd already decided on. Almost instantly she began to argue with herself over whether she should try to reason with Peter or how she would even bring the point up or if he even deserved to hear her through or where the hell he even was: wasn't two alerts on the dash of his own ship enough to get his attention?