A Pizza Night Out

January 04, 2017:

Peter Quill makes good on a promise to take Karen Starr to dinner.

NYC

Pizza place named 'Mario's Pie' that Peter Quill seems to have found.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Rocket Raccoon, Groot

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

It's a Wednesday evening, and Karen is having a relaxing evening for a change. The blonde is currently stretched out on her sofa, legs up, in comfy jeans and sweatshirt, idly noshing a little popcorn as she watches a movie. And that's when the phone rings. She picks it up. "Karen Starr." she offers.

"You know," The voice from the other end of the line. "I never asked if it was Miss Starr, or Doctor Starr, or just Karen." Comes the off the cuff thought that comes first. Its a cheerful, warm, amused voice that pauses for a moment.

"Its Peter Quill. I'm sure you remember me." He has no idea if she does or not, but his confidence is overwhelming. He just ooses that. "I did promise you a dinner, and I was wondering if you were up for collecting on said promise."

"Yes, from Stark Industries." Karen does, in fact, remember him. "I certainly would be. What'd you have in mind, Mr. Quill? Or is it Peter? Pete?" She asks, curiously. She stands, and starts to her room. Going to have to get ready no matter what.

"That would be me!" Comes the response. "Not Mr. Quill. That's way to formal for my taste. Peter will do fine, some people call me Star-lord. As for what I had in mind…" There is a touch of a chuckle from the other end of the line. "Well, I haven't been back on Terra all that long. But there is one think I missed here, that is damn hard to find out there." A beatpause. "Pizza. I know, I know it ain't likely up to your standards judging from where we met, but…I did fine a nice little fire-brick over kinda place I've been liking. So what do ya say?"

"Star-lord, huh? You doing the superhero thing?" With the connection to Stark, it's not that far-fetched. "And I love a good pizza. What's the address? I can meet you there."

There is a burst of laughter from the other end of the connection. Bright, surprised, its a good laugh. "Oh man, no. I'm no hero. I'm just…me." The man seems entirely happy being just that. "Sure though…" And he rattles off the address.

When she arrives? Its a little place in a crumbling old brick building on a busy side street in the city. The sign out front says reads 'Mario's Pie' in flickering neon, buzzing with age. Its not high class, but its not a dive either.

Somewhere in between, just about like the man that invited her out.

Speaking of said man, 'Star-lord' himself is out front. Without his much beloved and battered jacket she saw him in last.

He still has a jacket on of course, and its still red, its just not the usual one.

This one is longer cut, and the rest of his outfit seems at least slightly more polished than the battered clothes she saw at the Stark building. Its still denim and a t-shirt, but the denim looks at least newer and the dark colored shirt is clean. So he either made an effort, or ran out of comfortable old battered clothes.

…one of the two.

Karen gets herself into appropriate "pizza" attire. Still jeans, but nicer (and, well, tighter) ones, and she's in a t-shirt of her own, magenta in color. She cheats it enough to fly to the right general neighborhood, and then she walks over. She smiles when she sees him there. "Hey, I found it." She walks up. "How're you doing?"

There is a flicker of surprise on Peter's face as she arrives so fast. "Man, traffic must be light tonight, didn't even see a car come round." He adds with a quirked grin. "And I'm glad you found it! I can't complain really," A pause. "Well I could," Again a amused grin as he pushes open the door for her. "But I won't."

Inside the place is nicer than it looks. Clean, well lit, regular customers and a gregarious looking large fellow with curly black hair manning a battered old cash register.

The man, who must be Mario, waves as Peter pushes open the door. "Quill! Sit! Sit anywhere you like!"

Peter grins, obviously at ease here as he guides Karen towards a corner booth. The looks he tosses her making is fairly clear to her and anyone visible that he approves of how she has decided to dress down tonight.

Peter Quill always approves of tight jeans.

Well most of the time at least.

"So you have me curious, Karen. Why ask about the hero thing? That go on a lot on Tera?"

Karen smiles. "Who drives in New York? Too much traffic. Mass transit is the way to go." She goes inside with him, taking a look around…and a smell, which is more important in a pizza place. She slides into the booth, and looks back. "Not so much. But then, "Star-lord"…there's GOT to be a story behind that name. I mean, you don't get cabbies and pizza cooks named Star-lord. Plus, there was the whole rocket-boots thing. And the Terra thing. It's not every day you get to talk to a man from space."

"Technically I'm from the midwest," Comes the easy reply as he relaxes back in the booth. For the record? The smell coming off the brick-oven is very close to mouth wateringly good. Its curls around the senses, delivering pleasant dreams on how they should taste when ordered.

"Course there is a story, there is always a story." A flashed grin. "But really, I just like the name. I mean when your a member of the Reavers, you can't just give your /name/ to people. That's just boring."

Should she be curious enough to give him a once over. He's not wearing the boots, but he /is/ packing a pair of pistols of odd design under his coat, and some kind of device situated behind his left ear. The latter almost impossible for anyone with normal senses to see.

"But whats your story? I mean I'm gonna take it your a pretty big deal?" He asks as he raises a hand. "Oh, anything to drink? They got a couple good beers on tap I know. I mean its not Asgardian mead, but man. What is?"

Karen enjoys the scent. And while she's giving him a once-over, it's a much more mundane ilk of once-over.

She likes tight jeans too.

The blonde smiles. "Sort of. I'm CEO of Starrware. We're a high end R&D firm. I was there that day working out a business deal with Stark industries. Also, Asgardian mead? You must live a REALLY interesting life, Peter. And by all means, order for us. You know this place; I'll follow your lead."

"High end R&D firm, my engineer would love that place. If he didn't figure out a way to blow it up first." The pilot replies with the shake of his head. Amusement writ plain on his features. "And judging from the size of Stark's building, and what I've heard about his ego, I'd say that's a pretty big deal. What do you do your research on?" He asks wryly as he waves a hand to flag down a waiter.

"Two of the Green Man Ales from the microbrew, and…" A glance at Karen across the table. "…large pie, deep dish special." The man nods, not even bothering to write anything down and soon noise and very pleasant smells of bubbling cheese and roasting sausage are coming from the kitchen.

Looking back towards Karen there is a grin, a twinkle in his eyes. "Well, in the galaxy at large it doesn't pay to be boring."

That gets Karen's interest perking up. "I'd love to talk with your engineer. I'm always looking for some interesting concepts and ideas. Just got done hiring an engineer the other day." She smiles over. "We're mainly a think-tank. I'll fund anything I think has a good idea that can improve the world. And, of course…if it pulls a profit, so much the better." The blonde looks back towards the kitchen, then back. "You certainly haven't been that. Think introducing me to your engineer might be a thing?"

"That depends," Quill's reply is amused. "How are you at dealing with people who /really/ aren't that human?" A pause. "Not just someone who isn't one and but looks like one, but really…isn't one?" A smirk curls up his lips. "And point two, he's more likely to blow up the world than to make it a better place." The grin only grows again, he's amused by this turn of events more than anything. "And third I think I invited you to dinner then got you more interested in Rocket than in me."

"…Your engineer's name is Rocket? How 60's. Are go-go boots involved?" She can't help but look amused. "And trust me, I'm interested. Karen Starr, CEO, is sensing a business opportunity. Karen, on the other hand, is out to dinner with a pretty good-looking guy." She'll take a more obvious look, just…letting him know she appreciates it. "I wasn't sure if this was "prospective business dinner" or "prospective dating dinner"."

"Rocket Raccoon," A smirk at that. "So no, no go-go boots. Missile launchers, and very large caliber guns, but no go-go boots." His eyes brighten as he shifts slightly in his chair, leaning forwards just slightly across the table to grasp for the mug of foaming drink.

It actually /is/ green.

"Well I'd say a bit of both, since I'm one to always mix business with as much pleasure as I can get out of it. Even if my business is usually tomb delving or treasure hunting. And occasionally saving a planet." Or running from the police. He does a lot of that too. "So dinner with a beautiful woman? That's always on top of my list of things to do."

Karen peers over at the beer. "This is green." If this has Kryptonite in it, she's going to be REALLY unhappy. But she grins a little at his description. "Tomb delving, treasure hunting, saving planets. That sounds like a really impressive resume." She smiles. "Girl in every port, space-sailor?"

"Their brewer is experimental, and irish. Or so I'm told." Quill responds with an easy grin. "Don't knock it until you try it. Gotta get out of that comfort zone sometimes." He shrugs slightly though. "Like I said, boring doesn't play bills."

He curls his fingers around the mug before sliding it to his side and taking a long pull. Those fingers of his? Definitely not ones unused to work, no matter how idle he seems. He's strong and confident, but he might just be that way for a reason.

A wink at the last question though. "Of course!" He replies, not even bothering to deny it. Since he's fairly sure if he did she could see right though him. "Sometimes two or three." A pause. "I'm fairly sure a good number of them have tried to kill me, but that's life I suppose."

Karen takes a nice long pull off the beer. "I don't know…I don't think your significant others trying to kill you is exactly par for the course." Not that it hasn't happened to her. "So, you, your engineer…you fly around in space, raid tombs, and save planets. Anyone else?"

"Well its all I've ever known," A flash of a smile at that. "Not much time to get to know people in the mercenary trade. Lot of traveling around from one place to the next."

The pizza arrives, and it looks as good as it smells. The cheese crisped /just/ right on top of deep dish pizza full of Italian sausage and a half-dozen other meats.

"Well to be honest, until recently it was just me. Occasional passengers, but mostly just me. Now I have a crew. Small one, but the ship ain't that big so that works. Right now, its just me and Rocket and his bestie, Groot."

A smirk.

"Used to travel with the Ravangers, merc group. Buuuut that didn't work out too well come recently."

"Oh, that smells awesome." Karen reaches out to take a slice, and a bite. She chews (hey, at least the hot pizza doesn't bother her) and then, perhaps not with the most grace, will ask through the bite. "So Rocket's your engineer, who's Groot?"

"Tastes even better," Though Quill does quirk an eyebrow at the speed she can bite that. "Don't burn anything, you might need it later." Comes the quip from the sort-of-pirate.

He does collect his pizza though, eating at a slightly more sedate pace than his companion. "Well technically he's his own engineer, and my friend. Don't tell him I said that though. Groot is…Groot. Like Rocket, there isn't another one like him in the galaxy. And to be honest I've never seen a sorta-talking tree before either, so might be right."

"Oh, I might, might I? You assuming you're going to get lucky tonight, space cowboy?" Karen lifts an eyebrow, amused. And then there's a pause. "You're a weird dude, Peter Quill. Or at least you have weird friends. I'll have to meet 'em sometime."

There are so many ways to answer that, and most of them would involve stuttering and backpedeling. Possibly explaining that he didn't mean it like that. Apologies or explanations.

None of that would be very Peter Quill.

"Assuming? I try not to do that, mostly because it'll get you killed if you do it too much. Hoping?" Now there is a wicked grin that plays across his face. "Hell yeah I am. Wouldn't be that bad, for either of us."

He watches her, that smile remaining, over the edge of his mug as he takes a long pull. "As for being weird? I'll take that as a compliment. Rather be that than normal, thats for sure."

The tall blonde laughs. "I might break you." She says, amused. "But, you recommended a good place, you come with good stories. And the notion of an engineer raccoon and a talking tree make me laugh. You're either the weirdest guy I've ever met, or the best bullshitter, and either one is saying something." She takes another drink of her beer, and another bite of the pizza. "I suppose we can box this and head back to my place. Or your place."

"I survived demi-gods, outer space without a space suit, crashing a battleship into a planet, and touching an infinity stone. I'm tougher than I look." Peter drawls with a smirk. Though at the last statement from her there really is only one response to that.

He leans slightly out of the booth to get a waiters attention. "Check please! And we'll need a box! And a six pack of the ale!"

Because really. What else can you say to that.

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