[ Peter almost wished this was the first time he had ended up snatched onto a strange spaceship and woken up in a pod. Hell, he wished this was the first time it had happened in the last six months, but that wasn't the way his life worked. At least this time it wasn't members of his father's army that had been sent to snatch him up.

Today, Peter's face was going to grace the Tranquility with a touch of amusement. Sure, this wasn't the best of situations, but it wasn't the worst, either. ]

First thing's first, everyone- I'm gonna get the basics out of the way and introduce myself: the name's Peter Quill and in some parts I'm known as Star-Lord. No, I didn't pick the name for myself. [ A beat. ]

I would have gone with "James," to be honest. [ Were people laughing? ]

Anyway, what do you all remember before waking up here? Anything like cracks in the fabric of reality? Seriously, if you saw tentacles, we might have a problem that we shouldn't be having. [ As opposed to problems they should be having, but hey- he went to a lot of trouble to make sure the tentacled horrors of creation didn't come creeping through. ]

And on a final note, if you're with the Spartoi, the Shi'ar, the Kree, or the Badoon: make sure to keep your flarking keesters out of trouble, okay? I don't wanna have to keep on playing cleanup after you guys while we're all stuck here.

I'm not sure who thought putting me on a spaceship was a good idea. A remarkably large and by all means physically impossible spaceship, but that's beside the point.

[ The man in front of the camera doesn't seem like much at first glance. He has dark, curly hair that's making its way to gray, wears a well-worn tweet jacket over a button-down, and has a pair of glasses with scratches and bumps on its side. Most people would take him for an average, possibly even homeless, man. Most people would be wrong.

He takes off his glasses and cleans them, taking a moment to look at his surroundings. ] Every inch of this ship must be completely air-locked. [ He muses aloud more than he speaks directly to the camera, and although his brows are furrowed, but for a brief moment, there's also something akin to interest in his eyes as he looks.

He puts back on his glasses and crosses his arms, looking back into the camera. The curiosity is gone, his expression closed off again. ] Here are the important questions: who brought me here? Why?

[ He looks down, and when he looks up again, there's a glimmer of excitement shining through his walls. ] ...and is there a laboratory on this ship?