Viewing Rooms
Quill was dragged towards one of the viewing rooms, a grin etched into his features even as they approached; eyes scanned up towards each guard that had hold of him, and he frowned suddenly, "Guys, guys, listen. I have a huge deal for you, a big score; the biggest score of your lives. Well especially for you since neither of you do my sort of work. Still, there's a lot of money in it for you should you let me go. I'll even split it, 60-40, in my favor. I mean I'll be doing all the work after al--"
The door came open and Quill found himself thrust inside, his feet missed a step and soon the man tumbled forward into the cell, rolling a bit before he pushed up to his feet immediately, and pointed back, "Okay okay! 50-50, but that's really bad tactics. I mean I'm just being stupid with that deal, but I get it. You're in it for the long haul--oh."
The door slammed shut in his face and he rolled his eyes, "Oh just, fantastic. No, seriously, you're being dumb! I could make you rich! I could make me rich, we could all be rich together laughing about this over drinks in the Bahamas, but no; no, you've chosen the easy way out. Violence. That's what this world has come to you know, violence! Now you don't get to come to my birthday party."
Peter moved back to the back wall and just collapsed, slumped over with arms crossed and looking up at the door, clicking as he waited to be gawked over.