Star Crossed Meetings

February 27, 2017:

Nancy O'Neil and Peter Quill get to talking after an attempting mugging.

NYC parking garage


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

How does one get to Carnegie Hall? Practice. Okay, so it's not Carnegie Hall, but the sentiment still applies. Nancy waves goodnight to other members of the Philharmonic as she makes her way to where she has her car parked. Her practice cello is in its case, the carbon fiber cello finally fixed after getting *another* bullet hole in it. And this is why she usually brings her carbon fiber cello with her. The idea of her Stradivarius getting a bullet would cause a tightness in the goth's chest.

As she walks along the street to the cheapest parking garage she could find in the neighborhood, Nancy hums her part of the symphony, her mind's eye going over the fingering of the piece. True, she just practiced for 5 hours straight, but that doesn't mean she can't try to get just that little bit better.


Cheap parking garages are great. However they are also…well…cheap. Which can on occasion be a problem. Since unwelcome kinds of people tend to hang around in them. People with nefarious and dishonorable intentions. People with criminal records hiding in the dark corners of the…wait? This isn't Gotham is it?

So its not that bad!

But regardless what Nancy runs into as she rounds the corner to her garage are three men. Dressed in battered and beaten leathers and denim hassling someone who…just stepped out of a con somewhere. Or a LARP. Or a costume party.

Peter Quill doesn't look like he's from around here at least.

Red leather long coat clad space pirate is currently chewing on a cake pop and looking curiously at the three street toughs.

He doesn't exactly look worried either.

"Come on guys," jovial and friendly. A grin on his face. "You don't want to do this. I'm just trying to find a pizza place a friend recommended so I can go home…."


Nancy is a native New Yorker and has seen her fair share of trouble, so she's not exactly the fragile flower that her slim frame might cause one to think. There was a time that Nancy actually liked when people tried to pick fights with her, when she would let the fight happen and then mock the poor sod when she came out on top. But after time being in some *real* fights, getting into a tussle with a common street thug just doesn't appeal. It's more of an annoyance then anything.

And so when Nancy turns the corner to see three toughs starting in on some tourist, the goth lets out a sigh. Really? With an unimpressed roll of her eyes, she switches her cello case to her off hand and pushes her Matrix style pleather coat off her hip as she unsnaps the pouch on her hip.

"You honestly think some Comic Con dweeb is going have anything worth taking? All his money is wasted on geek chic and the coat is a prop. By the way, I already dialed the nine eleven, so buzz."


"Hey now! I'm not a dweeb!" Peter seems more offended by that than by the toughs in front of him. "And I do /not/ buy props. This is hand-stitched by a four armed seamstress from somewhere near the Crab Nebula. I won it in a card game!" He shakes the jacket, settling it better on his shoulders as he tugs on it a moment.

"Its a very sentimental object."

One of the toughs looks fairly nervous as Nancy mentions the police. The biggest of the three though seems unaffected. "So what! We gonna put a bullet in you and your girlfriend here before the cops even get here! Go hand over yer money! And yer fancy ass case!"

Peter looks back towards the three men. "…dude. Be quiet. Can't you see the adults are talking?"

This does not seem to make the toughs very happy as the obvious leader does start reaching for a gun.


Did he just say Crab Nebula? So, he's either a science-y type, which would fit if he was one of those ComicCon sorts, or he's been in the black. Or maybe he's an alien. Earth does seem to be a favorite hangout for the off planet types. Either way, by mentioning some place she actually knows, this guy has become a bit more interesting to the goth.

Another unimpressed groan as the largest of the three asks for her money and her case. "Seriously? My girlfriend is *way* better looking? Don't insult me by trying to put me in this loser's bed, even in your imagination."

The sheer chutzpah of the dweeby guy though makes her smile. However the smile isn't long lived as she sees the big guy reaching for what is very likely a gun. Even if it's not loaded, it's best not to take a chance. "You want it? Take it," she tells him, throwing the case at him in an attempt to distract him as she pulls out the retractable baton from the pouch and gives it the needed flick of the arm to ready it for a good solid beating.


Thrown case does indeed distract him. He's used to people flinging money at him, not giant cases of musical things. One hand comes up in surprise as he stumbles just a little bit.

And that is when Peter moves.

Its a quick movement. Practiced, professional, and brutal as only someone who has been in /way/ too many barfights can be. He steps forwards and slams one foot down on the big thugs foot as he slams his own head forwards. There is a gruesome sounding crack as the headbutt hits home and the man tumbles over backwards. The case goes clattering on the ground as Peter just grins. Almost like this is a lark for him.

"First off I'm a Ravanger not a looser. Big difference. Or technically I was. Second I'm pretty damn hot so your girlfriend better totally be a looker. Third would a dweeb be able to do that?!"

It seems very important. At least to him.

His attention goes back to the stunned thugs. "Well? You three finished or do I have to break more peoples noses?"

There is a clatter of feet as the other two lurch forwards to start to drag the big man away. There are several very colorful threats hurled in the direction of the pair of them as they do so.

"Huh. Terrans." Peter shakes his head. "I have never seen so many ways to use one word. Always amazes me." A glance towards Nancy then and a flash of a grin.

"Thanks for the assist."

Nancy doesn't even get a chance to use her baton, the tourist proving he is not some convention goer by pulling a well placed Glasgow Kiss. If this guy really was a faker, then he'd be reeling backwards having hurt himself more then the other guy. Nancy has her arm cocked to hit the guy, but he's already down so instead she just stops and rests it on her shoulder with an amused grin.

"And here I thought you were gonna be all damsel in distress-y," she tells him with a wink. "And don't be knocking my girlfriend. She doesn't exist, but she's got feelings." Backing away so the trio can leave the carpark, Nancy just smirks while she retracts the baton and puts it away and then goes to fetch her cello case.

The disparaging of Terrans and the mention of Ravagers is enough to give the null the clues she needs. She never had to deal with the pirates herself, but they were notorious enough that she heard of them even in the quadrant of space she had spent her time in. Nodding her head slowly as she processes the information, Nancy looks over her not so damsel in distress to reassess him. "You guys aren't planning on making trouble here, are you? Gotta warn you, this planet ain't as easy pickings as it may look. And no problem. Glad I didn't have to get my hands dirty."


"They all do, especially the made up ones." Peter replies with a laugh as he watches the group retreat into the depths of the parking garage. He pauses though at something she says.

A quirked eyebrow is cast in her direction. "Huh? You know who the Ravagers are?" A longer pause. "Well I'll be damned. A Terran who actually is a bit in the know. Most of them freak out when they find out space is full of weird aliens." A flash of a grin. "Peter Quill," He introduces himself as he straightens his jacket. "People call me Star-lord."

They do. Really they do.

He waves off the concern though. "First off Yondu wouldn't be that dumb, second off I'm…not really here on official business. Me and the Ravagers aren't quite seeing eye to eye right now…"


"Yep, them made up ones are all full of the feels. And always hotter then anyone in real life, so don't take it too personally that she is *way* hotter then you," Nancy says with a wink, lifting up the case that holds her instrument. She notes that the trio is going in the opposite direction of her car and is grateful she won't have to deal with them again.

Asked about her knowledge of the Ravagers, Nancy lifts a shoulder. "Hey, the weird aliens were half the fun out there." The goth gets a lecherous grin on her face then as she remembers her trip. "Actually, maybe a little more then half." Realizing that the look on her face might offend the stranger, she clears her throat and laughs. "Just kidding."

Star-Lord? Seems everyone has a code name these days. Well, if he prefers those over handing out real names. "Deadzone," she replies.

"Not seeing eye to eye? What did you do? Pirate from the pirates? Cause that would be all manners of stupid."


"Pirating from pirates is a long standing and very honored tradition in some circles." Peter replies with a smirk. "The amount of effort and thought it takes not to get killed doing it has to be worth some points." Says the man with the multiple bounties on his head. "Besides, it was for a good cause." He adds with a smirk.

He doesn't look offended either. In fact he looks more curious than offended, the grin on her face gets an amused smirk of his own. "Huh. I see /you/ have some stories too." A pause. "Wait wait wait, I know Kitty went on trips into the black but how did you manage to do it? Most people I know don't know an Orion from and Iskifarian."


Laughing, Nancy nods her head as she slowly starts walking towards her car, assuming the stranger will either walk with her to continue the conversation or will head off on his merry little way. "Ah, so stupid it is then. Brave and apparently gallant, but still kinda stupid, so you get some points, yah."

The cello-ladened lass shrugs with an impish grin. "I could tell you a thing or two. Heck, if you've been out there, you might even believe me." At the mention of A'askavarians, Nancy winces. "Oh man, don't get me started on those guys. I mean, the tentacles may look like fun, but the *TEETH*!" She shudders in distaste. "And I sorta hitched a ride. I have a friend who is a Tamaranian. I used her ship to call out to others in the neighborhood and went on a trip for a couple of years. Used Babe here to help me pay for my meals."


"You're a visitor, darlin. I loved most of my life there. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be too surprised by the stories." Peter replies, the challenge in his eyes and voice as he strolls along with her towards her car. "…though I'll give you points that you know the correct way to pronounce A'askavarian. Musicians ear for tone I guess."

He doesn't pronounce it quite right but hey. He's got a midwest accent. Leave him alone.

"Huh, Tamaranian? Not from the sectors I'm usually in. But its fun to talk to someone who actually /knows/ what I'm talking about. And doesn't just scream bloody murder and run away when they find out space is real."


Nancy stops by a black Charger with absinthe green detailing and a burlesque style green fairy painted on the hood. Opening the trunk after turning off the alarm, the cello is put away and the trunk slammed closed. She turns and leans on her car, enjoying talking with someone that actually might know about some of the places she's been to. "So… what are you then? If you don't mind my asking? Kryptonian, like the Caped Crusader? Or are you using some sort of imaging device to pass? You aren't an A'askavarian are you? Cause I didn't mean it about the teeth if you are." She smiles sheepishly, hoping not to offend.

"And I kind of cheat with the whole proper pronunciation thing. My Tamaranean friend gave me something that translates any language she knows into english for me. And I know what you mean. I try telling my friends and they think it's cool and all, but they don't really get it, yanno?" Thinking that Star-lord is an alien, Nancy doesn't bother holding her power in and just relaxes, letting her sphere of influence rest at it's natural size. It's like taking her corset off at the end of a day, heavenly.


"I have no idea what I am," Peter replies with complete truthfulness and a wide grin. "I'm a mystery of the cosmos. Though I grew up in Missouri, at least till I was ten. Then everything kinda got a bit crazy." He smirks at that.

Kidnapped by space pirates and raised as a Ravager. Yeah. That counts as crazy.


"Definitely not an A'askavarian though. So you're safe." He adds with a smirk and a wink. "Well safe as any pretty woman is around me. A notorious space pirate and outlaw." He adds with a grin. "Reformed now of course." He adds after a beatpause. "Naw, no one really gets it. Beyond my crew, and I think Kitty might come around. Or at least she'll get over her fear of space. I mean really. Who is scared of space! Its awesome."


"Yeah, well no one is too sure what people from Missouri are, so you're in good company at least. So… you're … human? Ish? Kinda?" Nancy starts thinking about her time up in space and closes her eyes with a smile. "It was pretty cool. Lonely too though. I didn't see a lot of other humans out there, so it got a little lonely. I'm pretty sure that's why I came home. Just to be annoyed again by the hustle and bustle and the yelling and crap." When she opens her eyes, the smile remains.

The mild flirting is greeted with an arch of a brow. "Oh? A notorious pirate and outlaw. Is my virtue safe?" She laughs then and waves a hand in dismissal. "Never mind. I lost that years ago."


"Halfish." He confirms as he smirks slightly. "And see, its safe as can be since its lost somewhere far away from here. So I'm perfectly safe." A beatpause. "Well no, not perfectly safe. Perfectly safe is totally boring and if there is one thing I try not to be, its boring." He man seems to at least live up to that.

"Alright Deadzone." A pause. "I really hope that's not your real name, cause that sounds totally awkward." He seems entirely bothered by her powers. So not a mutant at least. "Anyway, I guess it can get lonely. You just have to make up your own family to fight back against it." He adds with a wink towards her. He's been living there for over a decade, so it seems he managed to take his own advice.

…or he's just insane.

Possibly both.


With a sage nod, Nancy agrees. "Yep, lost somewhere in Brooklyn, years ago. I'd try to get it back, but where's the fun in that, right?" Pulling out the keys from an inner pocket of her longcoat, the goth pushes herself off the trunk of the car and heads to the door. "So, which half?" she asks with a wink, giving him a playful once over. "Left or right?" she then teases as she opens the door.

"Oh, like Star Lord is your real name? It's the name I go by when I'm doing the mutie thing. Being all stupid and saving lives and crap. If you want to know my real name, you'll have to come to the Philharmonic on the 4th. I'll leave two tickets for you at the front under the name Star-lord." She gives a waves and then gets into her car, soon roaring off in the American muscle.

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