Oh my god, Quill. [Rocket's exasperation can be heard back on the station and his eyerolling is probably in danger of straining something, but he does stop just shy of where the unsteady deck supports are threatening to cave inwards.] Y'know that hand signals thing? It's never gonna take off. Stop trying to take it happen.
[He steps down beside Quill's foot without consideration, figuring that Quill may have said stop, but he didn't say where to stop, and the groan and lurch of metal gets that much louder and that much more foreboding, tipped further towards its breaking point by a scant twenty-five pounds of extra weight.
And then he realizes why maybe he should have listened closer, because sometimes Quill has a point and sometimes not listening to him is a bad idea. That acknowledgment is not what he says. Instead, he sums up the situation a little more succinctly.]
no subject
[He steps down beside Quill's foot without consideration, figuring that Quill may have said stop, but he didn't say where to stop, and the groan and lurch of metal gets that much louder and that much more foreboding, tipped further towards its breaking point by a scant twenty-five pounds of extra weight.
And then he realizes why maybe he should have listened closer, because sometimes Quill has a point and sometimes not listening to him is a bad idea. That acknowledgment is not what he says. Instead, he sums up the situation a little more succinctly.]
...Oh crap.