Re: Firelord
Quill might have argued that he wasn't useless without a weapon. He had moves, alright - his boots had flight capabilities (at least for short periods of time, more like sweet jumps, but not the point) and he always had a few tricks up his sleeve.
Except, maybe, not for something that moved faster than he'd seen in a long time, and was an unpredictable patten while doing so. Yeah, running was the best option they had right now. And if St. John wanted to keep himself in the back -- well. It didn't really matter because then the thing was in front of them and Quill was skidding to a stop even as John knocked him over in the other direction to flow flames everywhere. Branches and sticks scratched at his face, and Peter paid that no mind as he put a hand over the top of his head, the fire not touching but the licking warmth of it a grim reminder not to get up and move before it was all finished.
And when it was -- well. Everything was still sort of smoldering, but it was dark again and everything smelled burnt. Quill laughed, something nervous bubbling up from his throat. "You ever heard of overkill?" He asked lightly, peering out into the darkness. But -- there was no way, he figured. Everything nearby was just a mess of ash and dead.