Not in Kansas

Hopping up to climb onto a table-top, he dug the hand of his good arm into the mess of sauce, white strips and orange strips and shovelled it into his mouth before picking at the small thin stick things, the green bumpy thing that tasted sour and the lobster roll. Leaning over, he grabbed the portion of lobster mac & cheese on the same table and switched his attention between both dishes. Once they had gone, Rocket moved over to another table and eyed both of the abandoned slices of pie, apple and key lime before tucking in.

If this was Quill's home-planet, their food wasn't half bad for a back-water mud-ball. He was still getting used to what the humies ate but did they have to deep-fry nearly everything and why they had so many types of bubbly flavored sugar water was still beyond him. He also needed to find a long-range comm-device or the pieces needed to build one, then try to contact his friends and hopefully get off this backwater mud-ball. Especially as he had just been starting to let Quill and the other three in, accepting the team everyone seemed to be becoming. They had been the only ones who truly treated him as an equal instead of an animal, a freak.

Rocket frowned as a human male entered the place and his hand reached back, his fingers closed around the handle of his gun and he started to pull the weapon free, his finger tightening around the trigger. He was so not in the mood for this. He found himself pulling his gun completely free, activating it and. A low whirring hum implied that he was powering it up so not to be defenseless and shifted it into one hand. With the weapon supported on his shoulder, he kept his finger on the trigger and the barrel pointed straight ahead.

Not firing it yet, his eyes narrowed as his instincts were still screaming at him though he could give as good as he got. Right now, he wanted to see if whoever this was proved to be friend or foe before deciding on what his next move was "Who are you?"

It was true that he had to adapt while on this planet, back home he and Groot had targeted whoever had a price on their head whoever they were. That was before the Guardians though and he had found himself starting to walk a more honest path, well as honest as the group could. Those life-styles, the experiment to the bounty hunter to the reluctant hero were all starting to seem like a life-time ago.

Based on what Quill told him about Terra, which what happened to him and where he was from. Especially as he came from a range of planets where his appearance didn't matter and it had been kind of nice to be treated just like everyone else. But now, he couldn't run the risk of walking the streets of town without people shying away from him or staring at him like he was some kind of freak for once and not because of his appearance.

"So ya say and the name's Rocket" the raccoon replied but powered down his gun and slipped it into its normal resting place on his back, seeming to relax at the feel of the familiar weight "And yeah, don't frickin' want that, considerin' I could end up with going straight back to a fricking science complex for him. Would rather die than live through being turned into an experiment...again."

The raccoon narrowed his eyes at the sight of a pair of humans with 'Animal Control' on their suits entering the building. Focusing on the one who moved in front of him, he didn't notice the other one with the pole circle to come from behind.

The next thing he knew, the loop of wire was around his neck and the humies were trying to use the metal pole the snare was attached to for pulling him towards the door despite his angry stance, digging his heels into the ground and cursing at them. Instinct kicked in and he launched himself forward and whammed into one of the men's chests then dug his claws in to secure himself, snapping at them.

With the first guy now down and out as he had stumbled backwards, tripped and hit his head on a table when attacked by the raccoon, Rocket glanced at the human as he dealt with the second guy down and gave him a brief nod "Thanks for the assist."

It was at moments like this he was thankful for the translator implant his 'creators' had fitted him with and he had been teaching himself to speak Terran by watching their television shows even if some of them were weird as hell. Shoving the need to find the humie who had squealed on him and teach them the error of their ways, he hopped back up onto a stool to grab more food and drink.

Based on what little he knew of Terra or Earth as it was called, with where he was from and it was right back to a fricking science complex for him yet at the same time, he still needed to find a long-range comm-device or the pieces needed to build one, contact his friends and hopefully get off this backwater mud-ball.