#but the minute i see a widow-like spider its game over

[marvel-m-lee]

Fire, Note books and a- kid? •Part 1 of M-Verse•

Warning! This series will include gruesome descriptions of blood, bodies etc. These may be rare but they will be graphic. (This one doesn't have much tickling but it has a⁸ little haha)

This Series is also a tickls series, so if you dont like it, sorry oof.

Fandom: Marvel

-

"CRAP" Sam yelled as he flew right under a collapsing tie beam. "Language!" The cap yelled through the intercom, they were on a mission. There had been an explosion in an old warehouse building, no one knows how it happened but once they got there the place was covered with fire and dead bodies.

They were now in the building, fighting what they believed to be ex hydra workers that went into hiding for more experiments.

Cap fought from the ground whilst Sam was trying to get some shots from above while reading looked for any potential prisoners.

"Ain't seeing nothing from RedWibg Cap, the place is about to blow, we've gotta get out" Steve had just taken out about 17- now 18 Hydra agents, throwing them in the burning flames or beating them in combat.

"Alright, have one more look around the perimeter. Nat get the Jet prepared for exit incase the place actually does blow" He yelled, fighting off the last two Hydra agents in his area, throwing one onto another knocking them into a large fire screaming.

"K, sam make sure there arent any survivors" Nat ran back to the jet and started it up, the lights turning on as it slowly began to hover over the ground.

"Will do Widow" Sam flew up above the collapsing building to get another view of the area.

"Black Widow or Natasha" A sassy voice explained down the intercom.

"Okay Spider Lady" A grunt was heard that made both Cap and Sam laugh. Sam was looking through Redwing and his own eyes and couldn't seem to spot anything. "It all seems clear" Just as he were about to fly back down though he noticed something.

A young girl, her hair stuck together with some blood, mixed with dirt and wood. Her skin covered with brown mud and small cuts, she wore a white ripped hospital gown, too no longer white- or had seemed to be in years?...

"Holy shit-"

"Language!"

"There's a kid- west bound, see if you can get her. Covered in dirt and seemingly blood, right near where the fire seemed to have started from the burnt wood scraps and dying fires around her"

"A kid? West bound? Nat how long we got left?" Steve asked, running through the flames, dodging their burns and running as fast as he could.

"Before the place explodes? From my view about 150 seconds, just over two minutes. But you're gonna need to be fast so we can all get out." Nat watched over the intercoms and the computers showing where Steve was.

"Take a left"

"What?"

"Take a left! I'm giving you the fastest route to the west bound. Keep running until you find large doors, go through them and the last one at the end should lead to the girl"

Steve stopped asking the questions and complied. It wasnt his first time saving a kid, but the closer he got, the more he saw about the place. Cages, torture chambers, training halls.

This place wasnt a good one, especially for a kid... He thought.

He found the large doors, chained shut. Before he reached them he threw his shield, breaking the locks almost instantly. He ran through, but stopped in his tracks. The room was full of blood, the sticky walls glossed over, there were bones, some shattered, some scattered. Not hundreds, probably enough for the bodies of a good couple of people though... it was gruesome. Some of the worst things he had seen in a while, probably since... well. The blip?..

How was a kid kept here? How did we not know sooner?...

The thoughts span round the super solider head, taking up more time than he would have cared for.

"Steve? What's happened why'd you stop? We've got a minute!" Nat asked, she was getting impatient, the adrenaline was rising and so were the flames, everyone felt on edge here, as soon as they stepped down something felt very wrong.

"Shit, yeah. Alright, I'm going!" Steve ran and soon found the young girl, she didn't seem too strictly harmed for being so close to the flames. And for surviving in this, this prison.

"Got her, how long have I got left?"

"45 seconds"

Steve now had the young girl over his shoulder, he was trying to run even faster than he had before. This place. Something else had been happening here.

As the 100 year old ran though, he seemed to notice the fire die down wherever he ran to, creating a simple path for him to run in. He spotted the jet, Sam was standing in the open doorway, waiting to see if cap would make it. Silently cheering him on.

"10 seconds Cap"

"Start taking off now, we'll make it."

"FUCK NO! HURRY UP MAN" Sam yelled, this time to Captain America ratger rgan through the intercoms.

Time felt like it was going in slow motion, Steve got close enough just to jump and as soon as he did the whole place behind blew up. It all went so quickly after that, Sam grabbed his hand, holding on with all his might as Steve held the young girl. Nat, quicker than ever, sped off into the sky, miles from the ground to make sure the explosion wouldn't hit them as harshly as it should have.

Steve lay on the floor, with the young girl cradled in his arms behind the shield so she wouldn't get burnt. He was staring at her, even though she was covered in- well not so flattering things, she was beautiful. Something within began stirring. Something warm, familiar...

"Holy shit my dude. We almost died!" Sam droned, going to sit down on the chairs they had.

"We usually almost die, its part of our job" Nat explained, walking in and rolling her eyes. "Nahhh, Nat even you know that place was off" Sam looked over to the spy who sighed and walked over to Steve to help him up.

"How's the kid?"

Steve stood up and pulled away the shield to show off a little girl with y/c/h hair, covered in mud and pieces of blood, tucked up into his chest, breathing gently. "Wow" Sam sighed from the back.

"She's not in as much bad of a state as I would have imagined?" Nat said, watching over the little girl. "She wasnt too close to the big fire, must have been thrown into the mud and spotty snow from the explosion." Sam suggested.

Steve just held onto the small angel in his arms. He felt as though it were only he and she in the world, that time was no longer relevant. He memorized every piece of her face, even the pieces with dirt, cuts and bruises.

Suddenly Nat snapped him out of it, "Alright, I'm going to go get Bruce over. See if she's alright. For now just but her on a bed." Steve nodded as the Spider left to go call Dr. Banner.

"We haven't got beds though?- oh fuck you man" Steve laughed at Sam, he had just pulled out a bed from the sides of the ship. "You didnt know?" He teased. He and Nat had let sam sleep on the chairs or ground for the past few years. It seemed to be a secret agreement not to tell him amongst the avengers.

"Nah man, that's cold" Steve placed the little girl down and pulled up the walls of the bed to make sure she wouldn't fall out. Watching her little breaths as Sam's words started to fade away.

"Oi you even listening to me?" Sam asked unamused sitting up and looking at the fallen solider. "She's gonna be alright Steve" Steve sighed, deep down he knew she'd be fine. But he felt something strange. Fear. Like he had just found an old journal or someone he hadn't seen for a very long time.

He sighed and stood up, walking over to the bird man who was now sitting up watching the soldiers actions. They both heard Natasha in the background talking with Bruce.

"She's gonna be alright Steve"

"I hope so..."

It was a while till they had all landed at the compound. Rogers and Wilson played some card games- dont question it, Roger's made Tony buy him loads for each mission. He enjoyed the games. He also won most of them.

Steve picked the young girl up and brought her to Bruce as the doors opened up, they lauded her down on a hospital bed and hurried off. Bruce stayed back checking in on everyone. "The mission?"

"A success as always"

Steve seemed quiet, Sam answering fir him rather than fir himself. He watched the girl be scurried along into the building.

"Did you clean all her wounds?"

"Mhm"

Steve looked down and nodded before they all began walking. He didnt mean to seem any less- well captain america-y, but he definitely had something on his mind. Bruce began to follow quickly to ask what's up.

"Hmm? Oh.. nothing. Just worried for the child" Steve tried to brush the feeling off but couldn't his gut had other plans. They wanted to see the girl, see if she was okay.

"She's gonna be alright, she only needs a few tests done- safe ones of course, blood pressure, cut cleansing etc" Bruce smiled at the much taller man. Oh god he was short. Steve smiled back to the Dr with 7 PHD's.

"Thanks Banner, I'm gonna go see Stark"

"Okay, stay safe, I'll tell you when she's improved"

Steve nodded and walked into the building, turning an opposite way to Banner and going to go see Stark. Steve was secretly very grateful Bruce would tell him about the child once she was improving. He felt a connection.

"Stark?" The 100 year old asked, knocking on the doors to the Lab.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, Open the Doors for Roger's Pleade and Thank you" The billionaire didnt move from his seat, he had been working on some new tech as usual.

"Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y" Steve walked in, still in his spandex from the mission covered in blood and dirt with little scuff marks all over from the fire flames.

"Its an 8 Code Pin Rogers"

"I know I know, I just can't seem to remember it"

Tony rolled his eyes and looked up leaning on his chair with one arm resting over the top.

"What's up?"

Steve furrowed his brows. "Hmm?"

"You, you seem... less Super, more Man"

Steve rolled his eyes, "I'm not Super Man Tony!" Tony just shrugged and chewed the side of his cheek.

"Dunno there Cap" The genius stood up and walked over to him, the man was much seemingly smaller without his heals on, just bare foot walking around. He got extremely close to the Cap and got on his tip toes leaning in. If he wanted he could have kissed the man he were so close, though they both knew it wouldn't happen, Tony just liked getting close to annoy people.

That's when the billionaire squealed and almost fell to the ground with a jump back, a light blush on his face. "Dick" Steve smirked at the man, he sure was one ticklish man, billionaire, genius who cares. He was still ticklish. Tony went to go sit back down.

"So what's up?" This time, happily keeping his distance.

"I saved a kid today"

Tony furrowed his brows and chuckled, slowly clapping his hands. "Well done soldier, you saved a kid"

"Tony im serious"

"Well I didn't really think you were lying-"

Steve stepped forward making the Billionaire loose his confidence. He never minded being tickled, but then again it didnt help his reputation being melted into a giggly mess. He was still really nervous. Steve smirked at the man but then continued.

"She was covered in dirt and bits of blood. But before I found her, I ran through a hall. It was Dark, but the raging fires lit it up. There were bones, scattered. Probably enough for a good few people, some big some small. And blood, all over the walls..."

Steve tensed up, remembering the place. "It reminded me of the war with Thanos."

Tony stayed quiet, no longer fearful of childish tickles. It seemed horrifying. Even for them. "Okay, send me the Locations, I'll get F.R.I.D.A.Y up and working on it alright?" Tony wasn't the best when it came to comforting, but he knew he could do something.

Steve looked up at him and smiled thankfully, but Tony coukd tell there was something else bothering. Yet he didn't want Steve to be too focused on it all.

"Hey, here" Tony grabbed something from within a draw, it had a captain America's shield on the front, he handed it to steve. Just a normal sketch book. And some pencils. "You're welcome to use these and sit down at the window or something while I work. Keep your mind off things.

"Thanks Tony" Steve smiled at the billionaire, he wasnt great at comforting, but he knew what Steve wanted. It was a strange friendship that's for sure.

"Look at the first page too! I did a little something" The billionaire smirked as Steve turned the book open, on the front was an IronMan helmet with a little speech bubble saying "I Am IronMan" and a little stick figure with a shield in a cage in the bottom corner saying "I stink!"

Tony burst out laughing at Steve's expression. Let's just say his laughing continued for longer than expected...

[statticscribbles]

Settle

Summary: Marvel; Daemon Au! The Black Widow doesn’t have a daemon

Natasha isn’t entirely sure why she’s letting the team play such an involved guessing game about her daemon. Clint and Angelica had already clued the team in that not even they know the gender; let alone a name; or rarer still what form the daemon takes. Everyone concludes that it is something small and hidden they joke about it being a spider as does everyone. It’s when Tony gets shot twice; when Natasha leads them down a hidden path to a barely standing house, when she fixes him on a table and the team rest waiting to be picked up; this is when she gives in slightly.

“Widow’s daemons don’t keep a form. A Widow must always change; they stretched our tethers until they almost snapped; kept us un able to settle. Or they force settlings to what they want.” Nobody says anything to ask her continue; it’s not until they make it back to the base; until they’re all safe, Toni resting on the massive couch everyone not admitting they’re not willing to leave him. She starts when the news dies down; no one comments about how scared she sounds, about how scared she must have been.

“It’ was a game at first; change into as many forms as you can; never settle longer than five minutes. Then it was training, you must be able to shift between seconds, between heartbeats; it is what will keep you safe. It was torture after that; do not settle into something obvious, keep your soul hidden keep your soul safe. Early settling was discouraged unless it was a hide able creature. Also hurt the daemon; never the person. You hurt the daemon, you hurt the soul you control them.” She hums and Tony grimaces Lila moving closer to curl over his chest. Natasha knows during his torture that even the threat of her being touched, being manipulated was enough to make him bow. “I can remember the other girls trying to get their daemons to settle smaller or to not settle in a form at all.” She shivers.

“We killed them for practice; we had to get used to touching other daemons.” “And yours?” Its Bruce who asks this Samantha curled around his neck as she always is. “I hope you never meet her.” Natasha grins the relief the team display at being given a hint of her daemon; same gendered daemons weren’t uncommon or as strange as many believed; the thought of never knowing Natasha’ of it being better to never see her soul was almost sicking.

Steve arranges the meeting; he calls Phil and Maria in, even Nick is there in hopes that Natasha will give in; will be more comfortable. Phil doesn’t comment and Judy sits looking pleadingly at Natasha. “I’m not; it is best if you never meet.” She speaks to both Judy and Phil. “We have to; it’s a security issue.” Phil starts looking strained as Natasha’s already shutting down.

Its two weeks after the failed meeting when Clint brings them to the farm; when they’re relaxing enjoying a full breakfast spread Steve devouring the seemingly never ending blueberry pancakes. “Clint.” Laura calls out and Clint sighs, bow in hand as the figure comes in holding Laura by the throat. “Let my sister go.” The man’s raven demon flutters over their heads. “You heard him.” The voice is soft and unknown; the mans daemon flutters towards the sound both the daemon and man screaming as a woman steps out, hand curled around the raven’s throat.

“Does not feel good does it? Pain is so easy to give.” The woman’s blonde hair falls in her face and she brushes it back squeezing her other hand tighter. “You will leave yes?” “Yes! Yes please don’t hurt Vanya anymore. Please.” “Will you stay away? Tell everyone to not come here.” “Yes! Yes I swear!” The woman smiles, before her fist tightens one last time the Raven crumbling into dust. “Good.” Nobody says anything and Laura moves to hug her in relief but Natasha pulls her into her arms before she can move to the blonde woman.

“Come we’re having breakfast.” The woman nods following Natasha and Laura, the rest of the team tense and ready to fight. Bruce offers the woman toast and she shakes her head. “I ate already.” “Take the toast Lena.” “You take it.” “I already ate.” “Maybe your daemon should have been a parrot.” Natasha smiles at the snark and the team watch as Lena leans over pulling pancakes towards the plate that had been given to her. “Since you won’t.” She laughs at Natasha who pulls the fruit bowl over. “This is Yelena; she’s another Widow. She came after me.” Natasha’s voice is soft and Yelena smiles at her like they’re sharing some sort of memory. “Your daemon? Do you know Natasha’s?” Tony asks eagerly. And Yelena grins at him watching Natasha as she speaks.

“I know of her daemon, she is very sweet. Just as deadly though.” “What is she?” “Has she not told you?” Yelena turns confused and Natasha scowls. “So you haven’t; you must care greatly for them Natkya to not burden them with the truth.” “It is to protect them Russkaya, nothing you need to involve them in.” “They care for you; otherwise they would not leave your soul alone. They would have found where she is hiding.” She hums and Natasha arches an eyebrow. “The pancakes are wonderful, try them.” She smiles and they watch as she moves half of it around on the plate before Natasha sighs pulling it onto hers. “You can eat you know. It’s awareness.” “I do not like to feel as you do.” “Lena.” Natasha’s voice is soft but Yelena accompanies them to the jet sitting at the edge of her seat barely touching Natasha and barely looking at the rest of the team.

“So do we have another black widow on the team now? Do we need to call Phil? What about nick? Or Maria? Does SHIELD need to know?” “No. SHIELD does not need to know.” Yelena snaps at him and Natasha freezes. “Lena.” “They do not need to know.” She repeats and Natasha tenses as Tony moves forward. “Tony; don’t, just;” Yelena grins at Natasha’s faint stutter.

“Wow you must care for your new family so much. Do they know of your nightmares Natkya?” Natasha shrinks slightly and everyone watches as Yelena’s grin darkens. “Oh you have not told them what became of your пыль?” Natasha shakes her head and everyone watches as she sighs.

“Sit. There’s more to the story. Our graduation ceremony; part of it involved cutting the tether; so it forced settling. I remember the girls screaming when they went into the room with the big knives, the blades they used to cut us apart from out souls.” Steve shifts uncomfortably as does Clint. “My Daemon, she had not settled; we were so good together; the best. The best the Red Room had seen. We would do great things they had said; at graduation they allowed me a treat; to choose how my daemon settled; anything I wished they would let me pick.” Everyone swallows at once. Natasha shakes her head.

“All I wanted was for them never to touch me again; never to hurt my soul.” She snarls and everyone stills. “I screamed when she settled, when she changed and warped her form over and over listening to what I had said, the only instruction I had given her; like all the other girls had screamed ‘change so they don’t hurt you.’ I was different; I was so much better than the other girls. I knew what I had to make my soul do; how I had to be better than the others. The Black Widow doesn’t have a soul. I had to make that true. “Change so they can’t hurt you.” I told her; I told her over and over even as they cut our bond as I felt it splitting and out connection growing weaker. Change so they can never hurt you.” Natasha breathes out her body shaking slightly Clint moves to touch her but Yelena beats him to it her fingers smoothing the shaking from Natasha’s shoulders.

“They never hurt the girls; only the souls. Change so they cannot hurt you.” Yelena echoes and the team can tell it is something she’s spoke to herself countless times.

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[whothehellisyn]

Cat and Mouse | Ch. 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Quentin Beck x Female Reader

Synopsis: You found out who Mysterio really is behind closed doors. You’re about to learn just how dangerous a man seeking revenge can be when you get in his way. He’s a predator on the hunt. And you’re the prey.

Warnings: Unreality and use of illusions, graphic depictions of (illusioned) death, one unsettling monster, dubcon, Dark!Mysterio, predator/prey sexual dynamics, general violence

The way Quentin Beck regards you now is a cat to a mouse. Like a cat, he keeps picking you up and slamming you back down, blow after blow after blow, to stun you over and over again. Unlike a cat, he’s sadistic. There is no pleasure behind a cat’s capture of a mouse. It is basic nature. Every part of this torture, all of it, is derived from a sick sense of entertainment at your expense.

He was once the sweet widower who kissed the top of your head and accidentally called you his wife’s name one night and never forgave himself. He used to whisk you away to restaurants when S.H.I.E.L.D. paperwork got boring and your administrative duties weighed heavily on your shoulders. But not now. You wonder if he ever actually had been. If the sweetness was ever real or if he hated pretending to be so every second. At this point, hours and hours into illusions, you’d wish he’d just use his hands and finally finish you off. An ending to the glorious story.

A giant, skinless beast has been chasing after you, feet pattering on the ground. You’re not sure what it’s supposed to be, but its build is vaguely humanlike. The limbs are long, spindly and slender likes spider. The way it moves, as if it’s not meant to be on all fours, it’s hindquarters raised. It snarls as it pursues you, a gaping maw with teeth like nails gaining proximity to your body. It makes horrific screeching sounds, a haunting call for blood.

It’s been chasing you since the beginning, but Quentin gave you a head start, or so he called it. But he also threw in a myriad of horrifying illusions to slow you down, to add to the terror. You, at one point, watched Peter Parker bleed out from multiple gunshot wounds, face pale and pink around his eyes, which were full of tears and terror. His young little voice trembling and raw. The stench of iron assaulted your senses, and you threw up at least once trying to convince yourself it wasn’t real.

It wasn’t until the monster caught up with you and tore him apart with its teeth that you were able to start running again. Away from his screams. Away from the ripping sound. That was an eternity ago, you think. You stink of bile and blood. Your feet, long ago rid of their shoes, are blistered from running. It’s getting harder to breathe from the dehydration and panting.

“Are you getting tired, Y/N?” Quentin echoes from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He chuckles softly, adding “Don’t let it catch you!” in a teasing tone. “We wouldn’t want the fun to end so soon.”

The tunnel you’re in is infinite, dark and wet and lit by white fluorescent bulbs maybe thirty feet apart and mounted along the wall. They aren’t buzzing, no comforting white noise to keep you sane. There are no exits or openings. It smells of mold and death. Part of you wants to just stop moving, maybe let the illusion completely and utterly destroy you. Another part wants you to keep running, the threat of a predator apparent.

It is gaining on you with every second. You can hear it’s weird, chittering respiration, you can smell the sickly-sweet breath it’s heaving onto your neck. When it moves a wet glistening sound emits from its joints.

You know you won’t be able to keep running at this pace, with your knees wobbling and muscles tired. You hope to whatever god is out there that you can keep going just a little longer.

“Why don’t we shake things up a little, huh?” He laughs, voice echoing through the tunnel.

The lights shut out. You trip over yourself in the darkness and collapse. Stupid. Clumsy. You flail desperately to get away from the monster that had been so close to killing you but the creature is gone. Maybe forever. It’s dead silent now. You can hear your pulse roaring in your ears.

A hand strokes the back of your hair, almost sweetly. Is it him? Is it real? Is anything real?

You’re too panicked to turn around, trying to catch your breath between swallowing spit to wet your throat. It’s too dry. It’s sticking. And it’s going to make you sick if you don’t drink something soon. You don’t want to throw up again.

“Poor, poor Y/N.” Quentin echoes, faux pity ever present in his tone. “So smart. So gullible.” The hand petting your hair grabs it by the fistful and yanks it, pulling you to the ground as you desperately scramble against the grip. It’s difficult with your legs being so weak from running so long. “Everything was almost perfect. And now I have to see that you make sure it still is.”

When you grab up against his hand to ease the pain in your scalp there’s nothing there. It’s gone just as sudden as it manifested. The loss of an upward force leaves you flailing on the ground, propped up on your elbow. You have to get him to see you. You finally break apart from the panic to hoarsely whisper into the darkness.

“Quentin...” You rasp, words catching in your throat multiple times. “Please, I’ll do anything.” It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. You gag once and try to keep from vomiting.

A circle of Mysterios surround you, each of them getting down on one knee. Every single one has a fishbowl clouding their face, and you don’t know which, if any, is the real Quentin.

“Oh,” They all say, with varying delay, “I know, honey.”

You let out a soft sob and one of them grabs your chin, but you don’t think it’s him.

“You’re going to be doing anything I want, when I want it soon enough.” Quentin says, voice behind you. “Or I’ll leave you here to rot. Let you get ripped apart by the monster in the tunnel, or maybe I’ll have sweet little Peter Parker miraculously rise from the dead and show you what your guts look like on the outside.”

Quentin speaks like he’s planning rather than threatening. You have no way to know what he’s capable of, but he may as well be.

“Do you want to die in here, Y/N?” He asks.

“No.” You whisper, in a little voice broken with tears.

Another Mysterio from your left grabs your face and forces you to look at him. This one is Quentin, you’re sure of it.

“How about you address me with a little more respect, huh?” The fishbowl dissolves and you’re forced to look him in the eyes. The same blue eyes that you wiped tears from just days ago. Were those fake too?

“No, Sir.” You respond, tears welling up. He still has you by your face, pinching your cheeks forward. He smiles victoriously and eases his grip on you.

His thumb slides over your bottom lip and you realize with a sudden anxiety that anything he wants entails a much, much more intimate demand. You brace yourself.

“Now, are you gonna be a good girl for me? Or are you going to die today?” He asks you, voice soft and dangerous. He’s looking at your mouth with a rather sinful glean.

“I’ll be a good girl, Quentin.” You manage to say. It feels dirty coming from your mouth. A white flag. He smiles at you, closed lips, and cups your cheek.

“That’s right.” He affirms. “But you’re not going to be a just any good girl. You’re going to be my good girl.”

“Yes... sir.” You whisper. You want to curl into a ball and die. You’re terrified by the thought of what he’s like sexually if he’s a fucking sadist on the daily like this. You wonder if maybe being gutted by a fake 17 year old is a better ending. You wonder how long he would have loved you as a widower or if he would have done this to you the first chance he got anyways. No use in pondering further now.

“Perfect.” He says, picking you up by the arm rather roughly. “It’s time for your first role. We’re going to play a game.” A little hologram lights up the darkness, a maze of some sort.

“You’re going to hide and run away from me. The point of this game for you is to not get caught.” A little blue figure hides, and when a green Mysterio rounds the corner, it runs to a new hiding spot.

“But if I catch you,” He says, as the virtual mysterio catches the virtual you, “I take you where you stand.” The Mysterio has you pinned against a wall, and it’s clear to you that what happens if he catches you is going to be damning.

“You have 60 seconds before I start looking.” He says, and the hologram becomes a timer counting down from one minute. You take a deep breath, and start running.

————

That’s the end of chapter 1! I’ve had this sitting on my desktop for months and figured I can post it now that the x reader tag for Quentin is dead now. I may update, who knows? I got time on my hands.

Edit: I fixed a bunch of continuity and grammar errors! I was tired as hell last night so forgive me.

[minah-delacroix]

games, changes, fears

Minah Delacroix, Paris - France, Summer of 2019

There’s a two-pound Scottish lobster staring at Minah.

Surrounded by luscious fresh salad and an array of exotic sea fruits, with its gray blueish tail and saffron-colored pincers, the crustacean stares at Minah with its lifeless dark eyes full of judgment and disapproval.

Truthfully, the dead animal is not genuinely staring at Minah. And she knows it, but she’s been sitting at Alain Ducasse’s best table for over an hour now, and her mind is starting to run wild amid the voids within the conversation with her boyfriend and the spans of uncomfortable silence settling between them.

Julien Toubeau is all cheerful smiles and gentle eyes, hair perfectly tussled to the back and impeccable outfits that seem to cost more than Minah’s couture dresses. He’s the kind of devastatingly handsome that could easily fit the main role of any rom-com movie or a modern Jane-Austen-esque literary character. However, today Julien Toubeau is all frowns, curt answers, and intimidating glares. If Minah was a little bit lesser of character, she would probably be afraid of him.

But she isn’t.

There’s also a sharp sting of guilt preventing Minah from saying anything that can potentially hurt her boyfriend or simply leaving the premises of Paris’ most exclusive restaurant with some sort of dumb excuse. Not to mention her strong love and respect for Julien. Because yes, they’re probably going through some issues at the moment and she might doubt her romantic feelings for him, but she truly loves Julien. It might not be the kind of love he expects in return, but at the end of the day it’s love nevertheless and it’s what’s stopping her from breaking his heart.

For now.

The Delacroix residence always seems to radiate the same dainty and sublime glow that’s reminiscent of palatial historical constructions. Even for someone with Julien Toubeau’s ancient lineage and aristocratic heritage, it results impossible not to feel the tiniest bit intimidated by the majestic air of “La Maison de Breteuil”, in the chic 7th arrondissement of Paris. The young man is briefly pulled off from his concerns regarding Minah and their feeble relationship as the giant building materializes on the horizon and his car goes through the main gate. A message etched on the stone of one of the columns reads “Bienvenue à la Maison de Breteuil.”

Once the driver parks Julien’s grandfather’s Alfa Romeo Lugo Spider in front of the marble staircase, Julien pushes the door open and offers a hand to help Minah out. She smiles politely —almost forcefully, in Julien’s opinion— and grabs his hand.

“Thanks for the lovely evening,” Minah says. Unsure of what else she’s supposed to tell, she tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll... see you around?”

“Okay” Julien nods simply. There hasn’t been that many moments in his life he could consider ominous, but there’s something in the way Minah looks at him that makes Julien understand this is definitely one of them. He knows perfectly well what’s to come. He’s known for weeks now and while it is quite evident for someone who’s known Minah since she was a little girl, demanding and mischievous, that always managed to get whatever she wanted, the way she wanted; somehow, Minah seems not to be fully aware of it yet. Or maybe she is, but she’s still refusing to let go of what Julien represents…. The security of a relationship that has apparently always meant to be, that safe place where she’s always known she’d be able to return even if the entire world failed her.  

Minah and Julien have grown up together since the earliest of their years. They became partners in all their childhood exploits and they’re each other's first love.  It has never been a secret for any of them that their grandparents regard a potential relationship between them as a means to an end, which evidently is to consolidate the power of their families. There are not many households the Delacroix consider deserving and of the same social status as theirs, so such incipient romance is considered to be the perfect alliance to merge the wealth of two of the most renowned families of the Wizarding World.

Almost a bulletproof plan if it wasn’t for Minah’s unplanned change of heart.  

The details of how Minah Delacroix ended up head over heels for a childhood acquaintance, —turned best friend, turned the boy who broke her heart—, followed by a whirlwind of short-lived romances that came to a head when she started dating the guy of her —teenage— dreams are still up for debate.

But now there’s an invisible line separating the old Minah —the one who adored Julien with the intensity only young giddy love is capable of—, and the Minah who’s chased some type of thrill in the arms of several boys over the past few months. There’s a before and an after for Minah Delacroix and as terrible as it sounds it was the realization that not even her privileged status or the beauty everybody claims she possesses could guarantee her being loved back. It’s turned Minah’s world upside down.

Lee Sungjae has ruined her, or better said, his rejection and disregard for her feelings have.

But she doesn’t blame him. After all, everybody is bound to experience the struggle and trauma of unrequited, one-sided love at least once in their lifetime. And despite her It-Girl status and celebrated model-esque attractiveness Minah supposes she’s not any different.

It’s nearly been a year since Minah saw Sungjae the last time and in her quest to avoid the embarrassment and heartache, she’s basically cut everything —and everybody— remotely related to him of her life. She moved back to Paris, much to her aunts' joy and now she’s trapped in a relationship that initially looked like a magic formula to mend her heart, but now only makes her feel constricted and depressed.

The first days with Julien by her side were thrilling and beyond fulfilling. Minah felt elated, beside herself; nothing was important enough for her to get her head out of the clouds. Everything was almost perfect. The excitement of their respective families, the triumphant looks in their friends’ faces, even the relief with which they looked at her... It all satisfied Minah in a way she could hardly explain. But all those feelings were as short-lived as her romances with the son of the Hermé-Fontaine widow or that one Griffyndor guy from her Potions class, —whose name she never learned—, and now all bliss, delight —whatever it is Julien made her feel— has worn off and she’s just tired and guilty. Not to mention Julien himself looks off. He keeps trying but at moments like this, he barely seems interested in keeping her anymore.

Minah has started to believe all the time she has dedicated to whatever they have, would probably go to waste. She would be lying if she claimed she’s not disappointed, but most of the time it’s Sungjae and his gummy smile that occupy her thoughts, the way she still misses him although she hasn’t seen him in what seems to be forever, their long conversations about everything and nothing... and she simply doesn’t know how to deal with that.

Some nights, before going to bed and with the mental clarity she only seems to find when she’s about to drift off to Morpheus’ territory, Minah thinks that maybe this is all her fault, that she could’ve saved herself all the pain and moping with a simple visit to London or an even simpler phone call to Sungjae. Sometimes she dreams about going back to England and for very brief and fleeting moments everything makes horrible sense in the back of her mind. There’s only one way to solve things and it’s crystal clear that it starts by walking away from Julien. For good.

At times Minah is truly convinced she’s gathered the determination to let go of him…

But tonight is not one of those times so she slowly turns around, ready to walk into the enormous castle-like construction the Delacroix Manor is, thoughts racing through her mind and melting into the obscurity her brain has been harboring for weeks now.

“Goodnight” she mutters a barely audible farewell and begins to walk away, leaving a very appalled-looking Julien behind her.

“Minah” In one last impulse of remaining hope, Julien dares to call his girlfriend’s name. She turns on her heel before reaching the front door and eyes him expectantly —nervously, judging by the way she fidgets with the ends of the cashmere scarf wrapped over her shoulders. “I love you” he says simply.

Now it’s time for Minah to stand motionless and stare at Julien as he turns around and walks back to his car. It’s a sight that forces Minah to admit she has been dragging this too long simply because she refuses to face the reality of potentially losing Julien as a friend and the pain her own stupidity will cause them both. But it’s hard to see reason past the pain, and so Minah would rather avoid the very obvious solution than having to pronounce the words she dreads so much.

When she calls after him with the endearing “Jules” she’s used for as long as their memories allow them to remember, Julien is startled, but he still blinks in surprise when Minah strides toward him and wraps her arms around him pressing her cheek against the soft fabric of his turtleneck.

“Stay” she whispers like she might startle him if she speaks too loud.

Once Minah shuts the carved door of her room behind her, Julien wastes no time before pressing her against the wall, lips ghosting over her shoulders, hands sliding down the exposed skin of her back, where the Marchesa dress she’s wearing dips low enough to reveal her spine. Minah does her own part helping Julien off his blazer, her hands are soon pressed against the firm muscles of his chest as he moves to kiss her mouth, sealing their lips together in quite a harsh movement that misplaces Minah for a quick second.

She tries not to think too much about it, but it’s strange to realize that only minutes ago she thought about putting an end to this. As sad as it is to recognize, Minah becomes aware that in spite of her wishful yearning, the only solid and real thing in her life at the moment is Julien. But it’s still not enough.

Minah refused to accept it at first, but as Julien’s fingers grasp her thighs, her legs wrapped around him and their fronts pressed against each other, she finally understands that all the things that ever thrilled her have suddenly lost their appeal. Champagne tastes bitter in her mouth, trips to the French Riviera no longer interest her and even Julien with his tall stature, sharp features, and generally sweet smile has been deprived of his charm in her eyes.

The mindless fucks with no strings attached that she used to enjoy are not quite as thrilling and Minah’s body doesn’t respond eagerly to Julien’s touches anymore. When she clasps her hands around the back of his neck, Minah doesn’t feel the warmth of his body sending a frenzy through her nerves. For some reason, she hates it now and desperately wishes this would end soon. But Minah has been defining herself through her relationship with Julien for so long that it’s almost devastating to realize she might not love him as nearly as much as she thinks after all.

At this point, Minah should probably admit that she misses Sungjae desperately and that maybe she never really forgot the way her lips meshed against his although she’s been trying to replace the haywire in her chest he made her feel with a long list of boys that couldn’t even be compared to him.

By now, Minah should probably admit that It is Sungjae who owns the flutter of her heart.

Minah’s head spins with the reality of it all when Julien throws her on top of the jacquard silk covers of her bed. However, she doesn’t tell him to stop yet because she keeps trying to brainwash herself into believing she doesn’t want him to.

“Minah” Julien’s voice whispers right before his lips crash against her neck “I’ve missed you” he says peppering her jaw with kisses

The girl nods dismissively, short gasps escaping from her mouth as his hands move to cup her breast, something that would usually have Minah melting, but only makes her back press against the mattress as though she didn’t want him to touch her at all. She doesn’t want this anymore, she doesn’t enjoy the physical contact and Julien’s presence. Hell, she doesn’t even want to talk to him.  

Sungjae, she thinks in some insidious part of her brain, the one that only seems to be working when she’s trying her best not to think at all. ‘You want to talk to Sungjae’ a voice echoes in her mind, but Minah is determined to keep going, to stop her mind from straying to that goddamned night she wants to forget once for all.

Minah attempts to silence the voice inside her head by letting her hands travel from Julien’s back to the front of his chest and down towards his pants.

“I’ve missed you too” she simply says, pulling away from his lips to unbuckle his belt, fingers moving almost reluctantly. Julien doesn’t miss that last detail.

“Minah, just stop” he lets a frustrated sigh, pushing her hands away and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What?” She asks looking positively confused, the mattress dipping as she takes a deep and weary breath. She’s too mentally exhausted to even push herself to sit up, so she closes her eyes and covers them with her hands, suspecting what’s to come.

“You don’t want this” Julien is shaking his head, frowning at Minah as though he is expecting her to deny it so he can finally snap at her.

But Minah doesn’t. She bites her tongue in an effort to stop herself from further hurting Julien. Though honestly at this point there’s no use denying it. Minah doesn’t even think she wants to deny it anymore. She doesn’t want any of this. That she knows for sure.

It’s quiet in the room for almost a minute that seems to stretch for hours when Minah finally gathers herself and slowly sits up.

“It’s not that-“ her words trail off into silence, suddenly beaming aware that she’s spent so much time running away from the truth and she can’t keep escaping anymore. In some sort of devious way there’s a sense of relief invading her chest.

“It is what it is, Min” Julien attempts to keep his tone unwavering when he calls her shortened name —a sign of affection between them— but ultimately fails “You’re not thinking about me, are you?” The question takes Minah by surprise. She stutters puzzled, but Julien doesn’t wait for an actual answer —which Minah is thankful for—, before going on “And it’s painfully obvious this is not working anymore. You might be here physically, but your mind is somewhere else” A sense of hurt flashes in his eyes as quiet settles between them once again.

It’s the sort of quiet that makes every thought in your head amplify ten times in volume, so Minah’s brain becomes a jumbled mess of thoughts that range from guilt to self-awareness. And then mental clarity kicks in.

“I’m sorry, Jules” she simply says, placing a hand over his that’s resting on the bed.

“So am I” he says, his Adam’s apple visibly moving up and down.

Minah wants to tell him there’s nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes people just fall out of love. One moment someone is the center of your world and the next day all those things that used to make your heart flutter make you feel nothing. That’s nothing to be sorry for.

“It’s the British guy, no?” Once again it’s Julien who dares to speak the words Minah is not brave enough to say. She doesn’t reply but to be honest she doesn’t need to because the way her expression morphed, has already given her away. There’s a granting silence and then Julien chuckles softly  “I wish I could be mad at you, but apparently I have no self-respect when it comes to you” his words could’ve easily come out as bitter, but he says them as he sneaks an arm around Minah’s shoulder and his hand caresses hers soothingly.

“I’m sorry” She repeats, convinced that the words are not enough, but she might as well try.

“It’s fine” Julien goes quiet for a moment and Minah rests her head on his shoulder. “But maybe you should back to London”

This is where she is supposed to say something, maybe deny that she is breaking up with him to go back to London or attempt to fix what’s left of their relationship, that lifelong friendship they both treasure so much. But she doesn’t say anything, she only shallows heavily as she catches a glimpse of herself in the golden mirror of her vanity.

There’s a pale, lifeless face with sunken cheeks and lipstick smeared looking back at her. Minah supposes this is how endings look like, but somehow this one is not as nearly as painful as she imagined them to be.  

...

[stattic-writes]

Settle

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

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[petersmparker]

Welcome Home pt 5 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You finally understand why Peter blames himself for the death of Tony Stark. All you can do to help your best friend now is your best.

Word Count: 1540

A/N: wow madeline updates two different series in one night, who is she?? just kidding, ya bitch escaped the woods so I had to post both. my feet are sunburned. don’t forget that I have a tag list if any of y’all are interested in being added!!

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 EPILOGUE

Pepper and Happy had left shortly after inadvertently answering the question you'd been asking since the first night Peter had come to your room. Tony Stark had died reversing the Snap. That much had been revealed over the news. You had been considering the possibility that Peter had made a mistake out there, or that Tony had died protecting Peter in the battle.

But it hadn't been even close to that. Peter had been dusted along with half of existence. Later, he had returned. What had happened between those events was that Tony had committed to bringing Peter, specifically, back. To saving Peter. He had succeeded, but he'd also died in the process. Peter had learned about Tony's motivations and blamed himself for his death. For his wife, now widowed, and his daughter, now fatherless.

So very much like Peter, to blame himself for something like this. To not recognize that he is not a monster for having been loved so dearly. Unable to realize that no one else sees fault in him for the actions that Tony had taken.

Sleep is harder to come by that night. Peter leaves later than usual for his patrol, having decided that he wants to try to work off some of his feelings after a few hours of being emotional. It's with some measure of disappointment that you take notice of his choice of suit as you enter his room. The Iron Spider was assembling itself over his body as usual, and the suitcase containing the White Spider had been left, sealed, on the bottom bunk of his bed. The letter, which he'd finally relinquished from his grip, was sitting unopened on top of it.

You wave him off as he exits through the window and take to going through his dresser drawers for a set of sleepwear for him. It's with quite a bit of confidence that you guess Peter wouldn't be bothering to enter through the front door tonight.

After throwing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants over your shoulder, you turn to leave. Somehow, you can't bring yourself to do it. Standing in the doorway, looking out, you think hard about the letter. You mull over the scratchy black writing that adorns its front, probably in Tony Stark's handwriting. Why hadn't Peter opened it? You cross the room and gingerly pick it up, hyper aware of its value. There it was, the single word on the front: Pete.

While you consider the possibility that it'd be best left on top of the case, you ultimately decide to take it back to your apartment. At this point, it's clear that Peter will likely want you present while he reads it, even if he chooses not to share the contents of it. He hadn't expanded further on the information Happy had given earlier, either, but he had been open about his feelings toward them, and that in itself was an indicator of his progress over the past month.

Aunt May, still very much emotional over the events of that afternoon, is on the phone with Ned's mother. Despite being in the middle of a teary conversation, she pulls the phone from her ear and calls out her usual, See you later, sweetie, when you pass her to leave. You smile and wave, then return to your apartment across the hall to attempt to keep busy until Peter arrives.

After around forty-five minutes of absentmindedly staring at the same page of your book, two hours spent drifting off while attempting to watch a movie, and a long dinner with your parents in which the conversation can't seem to hold your attention, you get a call from MJ. You answer, though you're not entirely sure you'll be all that chatty at the current moment.

Luckily, you manage to hold a decent conversation, and it's nice to hear from her. She'd been a little bit MIA for a while, since her and her dad had decided to move out of their complex and into her grandparents' house in the suburbs in order to better take care of them. The Snap had dusted both her and her father, but her grandparents had been left to continue aging. After five years, they were beginning to struggle to live alone, and the adjustment period for her family had been a bit long during the move-in.

Your conversation lasts even longer than you'd expected, especially considering MJ's inclination toward pretty straightforward conversation, and by the time you're running out of ways to explain how Peter is doing without outright dishing out his business, the window in your bedroom slides open.

"Oh! Hey, MJ, I gotta go- Yeah, Peter's here now- No problem, I'll let him know. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

Peter acknowledges with a glance that you're on the phone as he climbs through the window. He immediately notices his sleepwear sitting on top of the dresser by the window and starts getting ready for bed. Despite his original concerns about being in his underwear while alone in your room, he doesn't seem to care anymore. The Iron Spider suit detracts itself from his body, leaving him in his boxers. Without that much awkwardness, he slips on his sweatpants and tugs the t-shirt over his head. You do your absolute best not to stare him down like a creep while he does this, even though the fairy lights strung up in that part of the room make it very easy to see.

"Thanks," he says, in regard to the pj's, and looks down as he ties the drawstring of his pants.

"No problem," you respond, setting your phone down on the end table next to the letter, which you haven't touched since you put it down hours ago, "MJ says that if you don't call her this week, she'll track your ass down."

Peter huffs. "Like she could catch me."

"That isn't fair. She doesn't know you can cross New York City in ten minutes flat. You'll call?"

"Yeah, of course I'll call. "

"Thank you," you sing-song back, satisfied with his answer.

He doesn't respond, too preoccupied as he climbs over the end of the bedframe and crawls up from the foot of the bed. You're still half sitting up against the backboard so it would be difficult to cling to you from the side, but he comes up between your legs and wraps his arms around your middle instead. He lays down on you about as comfortably as if you were part of the mattress. Blessedly, this occurs without any conversation about it, which is fine because not a single part of you wants to complain about it, and you don't know how you'd express that without sounding weird.

His face is turned toward the end table when he settles, and you know his gaze lands on the letter that's all but being spotlighted by the only lamp currently lit in the room. Despite this, it's a long time before he says anything. He doesn't reach for it either. You wait out his silence by brushing your hand through the short hair at the back of his head.

Eventually, he says, rather simply, "He wrote that."

"He did," you agree. After a moment, you ask, "Should I not have brought it over here?"

Peter heaves a great sigh and wraps his arms around you a bit tighter. "Honestly? If you hadn't, I would have. Eventually."

"Are you going to read it?" You question gently after a few more moments, not wanting to push the matter.

"I don't know. I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"You don't have to then," you assure, pushing some stray hairs away from his eyes, "How about we go to sleep instead?"

He sighs again. "Don't think I can. Not after everything that happened today. I think I could be feeling a hell of a lot worse right now, but I've got a lot on my mind. Can we put on a movie? Or some music? Just kinda. . . hang out?"

You're two hours deep into a playlist of soft music and in the middle of your upteenth game of rummy when Peter dozes off with his head propped up on his hand. It's a bit of a process to collect all the cards and move him into a more comfortable position without waking him up. It's just past three in the morning, hours past when you'd normally have been lights out. You're exhausted, but even then you know that you're better off than Peter is right now. That makes it hard to mind.

You flick off the lamp, taking the spotlight off Tony's letter, and pull the blankets up over the both of you. Since Peter typically is the one to initiate the contact, you're not entirely sure that you should try anything. You end up facing away from him on your side out of concern that you'll get clingy in your sleep if you face toward him. This ends up being unnecessary, since he throws his arm around you almost immediately and shifts closer in his sleep.

It has you holding your breath, but even so, it's all too easy to fall asleep after such a long day.

Tag list

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland @deathofthethrones @souvenirsvisuels

[trndsttr0961]

Rogue - Chapter Three

“Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?” I asked Cap, finally breaking the silence.

“Nazi Germany.” Cap answered. “And we’re borrowing, take your feet off the dash.”

A smug look on my face, I took my feet off, reveling in getting under Cap’s skin.

There was yet again an awkward silence between the three of us as we continued driving.

“Alright I have a question for you Steve,” Natasha asked leaning forward. “Have you kissed anyone since 1945? I mean, you looked pretty uncomfortable when O’ and I kissed.” She smirked.

“Yeah, you should’ve seen his face, he looked like a fuckin’ tomato.” I said, a laugh in my voice.

“Shut it Romanov. I’ll have you know that it’s a little difficult to find someone with shared life experience when you’re 95 years old. Also watch your damn mouth, St- I mean Rogue.” He scolded.

“Well that’s alright. Just make something up.” I shrugged, glancing towards Cap.

“What, like you?” Cap looked pointedly at me, as if he’d won our battle of wits.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged once again. “The truth is a matter of circumstance. It’s not all things to all people, all the time.” I tell him. Getting a wistful look in my eyes, I stare out of the window and mutter under my breath.

“And neither am I.”

“That’s a tough way to live.” Cap says, feeling sympathetic for someone so young to live such a way.

“It’s a good way not to die though.” I fire directly back at him.

It’s silent for a moment, and the only noise is the steady hum of the engine and the cars passing by.

“You know it’s kind of hard to trust someone, when you don’t know who that someone is.” He tells me softly.

Looking straight into his eyes, I can’t help but agree with him.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Who do you want me to be?” I ask him.

He pauses for a moment, thinking. “How about a friend.”

I laugh and look away. “Well there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers.” I say, not looking at him.

He just gives me a knowing look, and continues driving. But now I have a strange feeling in my heart. For the first time in years, I have a friend. For as long as I can remember, I never had any trustworthy friends besides Nat, all of them were friendly to me because of my name. Because of who my father was.

It’s silent for a few minutes and nobody utters a word. Not even Nat whose been silent for a while now.

“Well look at that, we’re there.” Nat states pointing straight ahead at a wire fence surrounded by a field of tall grass. I spoke thought too soon, I guess.

Steve stops the car and we all climb out. I pull out the flash drive and take a look at the tracing program I was running.

“Nat’s right. The file came from these coordinates.” I state, walking towards the fence.

“So did I.” a soft voice comes from behind me. I whip around and see Steve staring at the building behind the fence with a nostalgic look on his face.

We walked for a bit before Nat broke the silence.

“Steve, is this where you were trained?” She asked him, tentatively. Which was rare for the spy.

He gave a stiff nod as we continued on our trek through the base.

“Change much?” I asked him, holding up the flash drive and trying to pinpoint the exact origin point of the file.

“A little.” He says, staring into space, seeming to get lost in his memories.

I hand the flash drive to Natasha and walk back over to him, looking at the field of grass he’s staring at.

“Hello? Earth to Captain Rogers? You there?” I ask him, waving my hand in front of his face.

He blinks a few times before responding. “Just taking a little trip down memory lane.”

“This is a dead end.” Natasha’s voice echoes between the walls of the buildings. “Zero heat signatures, zero waves, not even radio.” She says, a hint of dejection in her voice.

“Whoever wrote the file must’ve used a router to throw people off.” I conclude, taking the flash drive from Nat. I look up at Steve, about to tell him we should get back in the car and continue trying to hack the file, when I notice a look of realization spread across his face. “What is it?” I ask him, confused for a moment.

He starts walking towards a dark metal building surrounded by green grass. Nat and I just look at each other before shrugging and jogging to catch up to the super soldier. I just walked.

“Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks.” He states, quickly walking towards the metal door of the building. I quickly catch on to what he is saying and look up at him.

“This building is in the wrong place.” I realize.

When we get to the door, Cap slams the lock with his shield, effectively breaking it. And with that, we all step inside.

As we walked down the creaking stairs, I can barely make out anything in front of me. I brush a couple of stray cobwebs off of my shoulders and only hope that there aren’t any spiders in them. I shudder at the thought. Finally, Nat finds a light switch and one by one, the lights in the storage bunker flicker on.

“This is S.H.I.E.L.D.” Natasha notes, seeing the agency’s logo on the far wall.

“Maybe where it started.” Cap tells her.

It’s silent as we walk down the dusty hallways, filled with ghosts of the past. Steve carefully opens a creaky door we see, leading to a dusty office.

We looked around the room for any source of where the file came from, when a painting caught my eye. I felt my breath catch and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. For I was staring straight at a man who resembled my father so closely, I could’ve mistaken him for, well, him.

I was frozen at the spot, and I could practically feel Natasha’s concern as she followed my gaze and came to the conclusion of why I was dumbstruck. I saw Cap turn his gaze to the painting of Howard Stark and his brow furrow.

“There’s Stark’s father.” Steve observes, not thinking about the person standing right next to him.

Natasha’s head whipped towards him and she gave him a taste of her emerald glare. If looks could kill, he’d be dead many times over. She looked as if she was about to give Steve a piece of her mind, but thought better of it, seeing as it might make things worse since I was still there.

Steve at least had the nerve to look apologetic for upsetting his newfound friend and was about to stammer out an apology when I cut him off.

“Howard.” I say stiffly.

“Who’s the girl?” Nat asked Steve, changing the subject.

Steve stares at the framed photo of the young brunette for a moment, before walking away with a dejected look on his face. I guess we both had ghosts haunting our pasts.

The golden trio The three of us continue walking around, not seeing anything except empty shelves, filled with cobwebs and dust. Something about this doesn’t seem quite right. I held up the flash drive, and the tracing program showed that we were getting close. I moved forward even more, and I could see that we were very hot figuratively and literally.

“This can’t be right.” Natasha mutters under her breath, scanning her surroundings.

But it seemed like the infamous Black Widow had lost her touch.

“If you’re already working in a secret office,” I vaguely say, unaware of Steve and Natasha’s curious glance to each other. “Why do you need to hide the elevator?” I finish with dramatic effect as I push the old shelf aside to reveal a hidden elevator behind.

I take out my password scanner, and type in the password it reveals. When I finish typing in the code, the elevator bell dings and the doors slowly open. The ride down is quiet, none of us daring to speak a word or make a noise. When the doors open, we’re met with, yet another, dark and dusty room.

As the three of us walk in, it’s dead silent. All of the sudden, the doors slam shut behind us, like something out of a horror movie. Instinctively, I grab Nat’s hand, and it seems like she had the same idea in mind. She gives me a knowing look, as if she can read my mind and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

As we walk further into the room, we can make out the glowing buttons and switches of computers and machines all around us in the dark. As we continue walking towards the end of the large room, the overhead lights flicker on with a loud clanking sound. The three of us spot what seems to be the files origin point.

There are multiple computers, all from the mid 1900s, covered in dust and god knows what along with a desk and a chair. I can feel Nat and Steve’s confusion as well as mine while we examine the file’s origin point.

“This can’t be the data point,” Nat says, confusion laced in her voice. “This technology is ancient.” She scoffs.

I’m about to agree with her, when I notice a USB port, glowing a dim blue. Curious, I walk closer towards it and notice several places to insert the flash drive. From the corner of my eye, I see Steve and Natasha following my gaze and examining the USB port.

“Is that- ” Steve starts.

“Here goes nothing.” I cut him off, not wanting to delay our findings anymore.

I carefully insert the flash drive into the USB port, and instantly, a whole bunch of switches, buttons, and circuits light up and turn on. The discs that were previously still, now spun around in certain patterns. We all looked up to see a security camera lift its camera up, almost as if scanning us. We could still hear the whir and buzz of the newfound machines, but our attention was primarily focused on the camera.

All of the sudden, a strange electronic voice spoke, coming from one of the computers. “Initiate system?” It asked in its really fucking sketchy voice.

Coming to my senses, I tentatively walked forward towards the computer that was just sketchily talking.

“Y-E-S spells yes.” I say, typing in my simple command that would ultimately change our lives.

I could hear the machines powering up even more, and making that soft electronic hum that I’d learned to love, growing up.

“Shall we play a game?” I say, referencing one of my dad’s favorite movies. I glanced over at Nat, smirking.

“I’d love to.” She smirks back (understanding my reference;)

The computer beeps, and a strange, electronic face appears. We instantly fall silent, all trace of humor gone from our faces. To our astonishment, the sketchy green man in the computer starts to speak.

“Rogers, Steven,” It states, scanning Steve. “Born 1918.” It finishes.

“Romanov, Natalia Alianovna,” It states once again, this time scanning Nat. Her head whips around to stare at the camera in shock. “Born 1987.” Natasha’s eyes narrowed at the camera. Her D.O.B. was classified information, and only a handful of people knew her full name.

In shock of how the voice in the computer knew Nat’s full name and D.O.B, I didn’t notice the camera turn towards me until it was too late.

“Stark, Octavia.” It said in its creepy robotic voice. I groaned, I hated my last name and my father. “Born 1989.” It finished scanning me.

“It’s some kind of recording.” Natasha stated, trying to find an explanation for how it knew such classified information about her.

“I am not a recording fräulein!” It angrily said, if computers could be angry?? nothing made sense anymore.

Confusion etched all over Nat’s face, and I reached over to give her hand a comforting squeeze. She gave me a fleeting look of appreciation before turning her attention back to the computer.

“I may not be the man I was when the captain took me prisoner in 1945,” It continued. “But I am.” It vaguely finished, earning a spooked look from Cap.

“You know this thing?” Natasha stiffly asked Steve, not making eye contact with him.

He looks around for a moment, thinking to himself. Then he remembers.

“Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull.” He said, anxiously pacing the floor. Steve looked up at Natasha. “He’s been dead for years.” He finishes.

“First correction,” Zola interupts, causing us all to look at him, startled. “I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive.” He mysteriously finishes.

“In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however was worth saving. On 200,000 feet of databanks. You are standing in my brain.” Zola informed us. Just lovely.

“How did you get here?” The Captain demanded.

“Invited.” Zola mysteriously answers.

I looked over at Nat to see what she thought, but I noticed that she had a look of realization etched in her features. I was about to ask her what she was thinking about, when she answered my unasked question.

“It was Operation Paperclip after World War II,” she informed us. Steve and I looked at each other, confused. “S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited German scientists with strategic value.” She told us, sensing our confusion.

“They thought I could help their cause,” Zola tells us. “I also helped my own.” He sketchily finishes.

“HYDRA died with the Red Skull.” Steve stubbornly says, refusing to believe the German, excuse me, Swiss scientist.

I scoff, I mean just how naive was the golden boy of America?

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” Zola scolds us, as the HYDRA symbol appears on the screen.

“Prove it.” Cap challenges him.

“Accessing archive,” Zola starts. “HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside S.H.I.E.L.D. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.

“That’s impossible, S.H.I.E.L.D. would’ve stopped you.” Natasha states, refusing to believe that she was living inside of a lie.

“Accidents will happen.” Zola tells her, as old news clippings and photos of my grandfather, Howard Stark dying appear. Fury’s death certificate also is shown on the screen, mocking us.

“HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your Life; a zero sum.”

In blind fury, Steve punches the computer screen, cracking the glass beyond repair. “What’s on this drive?” He demands.

“Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm.” He vaguely answers Steve.

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” I inquire, keeping my “mission face” on.

“The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.” He tells me.

In shock I turn to Natasha and is about to tell her to run, but the metal doors bang shut, locking us in. Cap tries to throw his shield to prop it open, but he’s too late. My thoughts are interrupted by the phone I used to hack my way in here alerting me.

“Guys, we got a bogey,” I say, dread filling my voice. I can feel my heart rate rise slightly and my pulse quicken. I look up at them. “Short range ballistic. 30 seconds tops.” I finish, internally cringing at their facial expressions.

“Who fired it?” Steve once again demands.

“S.H.E.I.L.D.” I slowly say, scared of Natasha’s reaction. She’s quiet, but I can tell that underneath she’s having an internal crisis about her life being a lie.

“I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain.” Zola says once again in his annoying Swiss accent that really sounds german.

At this, I quickly yank the flash drive out of the USB port and put it in my pocket as Cap rips an air vent out of its hinges so we can hide inside of it.

“Out of time.” Zola finishes with dramatic effect.

The three of us jump inside the DIY military trench, with Cap’s shield above our heads, protecting us.

The building begins to cave in, and rubble starts to fall from the ceiling and into our trench thing. Quickly I realize that Cap’s shield can’t protect all three of us effectively, and I’d never live with myself if I let one of them get hurt because I was taking up too much space.

“NAT!” I scream, over the sound of rubble and debris falling. “Nat, no matter what happens, I love you, I will always love you.” I finish, tears welling up in my eyes.

Her eyes widen as she realizes what I’m about to do. “NO!” She screams at me, pulling me closer to her. She looks me in the eye, and I frantically scan her face, etching every single detail into my memory. “Please, O’! I love you too, you can’t- ” I cut her off by pushing myself away from them and into the falling debris.

I can hear Steve’s yells and Nat’s frantic screams as the rubble begins to pile up around me. Well, here goes nothing. I thought as I close my eyes and prepare myself for the worst. I can sense the huge piece of concrete ceiling falling towards me, fast. I close my eyes and concentrate on the thing that calms me the most. Natasha’s voice. I focus on her silky and smooth voice saying my name over and over again. I remember her piercing green eyes staring into my soul, and her fiery locks falling through my fingers as I kiss her. I think about all the times she healed my cuts and bruises after training, and all the times I stitched her back up. I take a deep breath as I feel time seemingly slow around me and brace myself for the impact that never came. 

I open my eyes, and I’m not in Arnim Zola’s hidden bunker anymore. I’m in an empty yet full void with nothing but white seeming to stretch miles and miles around me. The only way I could tell the difference between up and down was, well, because I was standing. 

I look down at my hands, and I can see my hands glowing a dim silvery white, which was slowly fading away. I looked around my Void, and a sense of familiarity washed around me. I hadn’t been here for years, ever since then. I shake my head, clearing all thoughts of the incident, and instead I focus on getting back to Natasha. 

The funny thing is that time passes by the same in the Void. It may not seem like it, but since everything is just white, it’s hard to tell how long it’s been. 

Seconds? Minutes? Days? Years? 

It really just depends. 

Clocks also don’t work in the Void, so there’s no way in telling what time it is besides counting.

1. 2. 3.

I count to myself in my head, but I soon lose track of that. How long until it’s safe to go back? If I go back to early, I could get crushed by a bigass piece of debris. If I wait too long, well I could end up in the hands of HYDRA. 

Taking a deep breath, I give in to the temptation to go back. I don’t even know how I’m going to begin to explain this to Nat. She’s probably gonna kick my ass

In the blink of an eye, I appeared back where I was standing before the entire fucking ceiling collapsed. I looked around, trying to see if Nat or Steve was nearby. I slowly dug my way through the rubble to get to Natasha and Steve. 

“NAT! STEVE! I’m here!” I shouted, frantic to get to them. I grunted and groaned, trying to push rubble out of the way when I heard it. I turned and saw the headlights of a S.H.E.I.L.D, or should I say HYDRA plane with agents on it coming straight towards me. Instinctively, I ducked and ran, narrowly avoiding the bullets their snipers shot at me. 

Realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to get back to Steve and Nat, I wished them good luck and goodbye. I’d come to the conclusion that they’d upped and ran at the first sign of S.H.I.E.L.D. HYDRA so the car was gone. I sighed, this was going to be a very long day (it already was lol)

I decided I needed to surprise them and wait for them to come onto the ground, when they *cough* thought *cough* it was safe for them (it really wasn’t)

A few minutes later, I heard the sound of the plane’s back deck opening, and the sound of engines coming out. Great. Motorcycles. I thought. A Lambo or an Audi would’ve been much better for a getaway vehicle. I crouch behind a large piece of fallen rubble, waiting for my chance to strike. 

Bingo.

“Thermal vision and heat sensors are picking up a signature over here.” A voice calls out.

A S.H.I.E.L.D. HYDRA motorcycle speeds towards the piece of rubble that I’m hiding behind. As soon as he’s close enough, I leap out of my hiding place, whip out my gun, and shoot him point blank in the head, killing him instantly. 

I push his dead body off the motorcycle and swing my leg onto it. I can hear the steady hum of the engine and and softly stroke the shiny black metal. I rip the yank the license plate off the back so they can’t track me, and check for any other trackers.

“Adios.” I smirk, looking back at the approaching HYDRA agents.

And with that, I grip the throttle and speed away, leaving the HYDRA agents in my dust. 

Now I just gotta find the love of my life Natasha and Steve. Yay.

[thenerdparty]

Avengers: Endgame Film Review

Written by Shawn Eastridge Has it really been 11 years since the first Iron Man? The Dark Knight might have taken all the credit that year for revolutionizing the superhero genre, but Iron Man’s legacy has proved just as important. While other films in Phase One hobbled somewhere between decent and mediocre, Joss Whedon’s first Avengers exceeded any and all expectations. To this day, it stands as one of the greatest superhero films ever, and it paved the way for the remainder of Marvel’s Cinematic Universe.

Over the course of the past decade, the MCU has seen its fair share of highs (Anything directed by the Russos), lows (Thor movies not directed by Taika Waititi) and everything in between. But through it all, Marvel Studios has maintained a consistent level of quality, conjuring up box office numbers that made Warner Bros SO JEALOUS they ruined Superman in the attempt to catch up. (Hey, WB: I’m still available to help get you on the right track with the Man of Steel. Call me.)

But now, twenty-two movies later, it’s all come down to this. We’re in the Endgame now, the long-awaited BIG FINALE to Marvel’s Cinematic Universe.

Let’s be real, though - we all know this isn’t really the finale. The MCU will chug on and on forever. In fact, we’ve even got another Marvel movie right around the corner. (That would be July’s Spider-Man: Far From Home) And while that knowledge does dilute Endgame’s overall effectiveness - can anyone ever stay dead in the realm of comic books - it seems foolish to recognize Endgame as anything other than a monumental success.

Seriously, this ‘conclusion’ to the MCU’s recently dubbed ‘Infinity Saga’ satisfies on nearly every level, fulfilling arcs set up in prior films and providing proper send offs for characters we’ve come to know and love over the past decade. Instead of collapsing under the weight of its ongoing 22-film arc, the Russo Brothers, along with screenwriting duo Stephen McFeely and Christopher Markus, rise to the challenge and then some, wrapping things up with style, grace and a surprising amount of emotion. That is perhaps the most pleasant surprise: Endgame is genuinely touching in the way it thoughtfully concludes this ongoing story arc. You may find yourself dabbing the corners of your eyes more frequently than expected through the film’s brisk three-hour runtime.

This isn’t all to say that Endgame is without its fair share of flaws - and there are plenty that I’ll get into during the spoiler section of this review - but honestly, the nitpicks feel so minor when compared to all the things that work. Marvel Studios hasn’t just raised the bar for superhero filmmaking and ‘big finales’ in general. They’ve obliterated it.

There. That’s my non-spoiler reaction. MASSIVE SPOILERS await you ahead. So, do yourself a favor: if you haven’t seen Avengers: Endgame already, see it. Immediately. If you have any fondness for any of the films in this massive franchise, there’s no way you’ll be disappointed. Once you’re in the know, come back and check out the rest of this review.

Sound good? Okay. Let’s push forward.

. . . . .

Where Infinity War brought the comic book action early and often, Endgame’s opening moments are more meditative and somber. Our heroes have just faced a crushing loss. They’re still reeling from the devastation of Thanos’s infamous Finger-Snap Heard ‘round the Universe. Nothing will ever be the same.

After staging an effectively heart-wrenching opening scene, giving us a brief glimpse at Hawkeye’s family life before his wife and kids fade into ash, the Russos keep the mood low-key and mournful for the duration of the film’s first act. Then we get one of Endgame’s earliest and best twists: within the film’s first twenty minutes, the Avengers find Thanos and discover he’s destroyed the Infinity Stones to prevent anyone from undoing his monstrous deed. In an empty gesture, Thor chops off the purple dude’s head. It’s a brilliant way to kick things off, throwing the audience for a loop and suggesting an ‘anything goes’ vibe to keep us on the edge of our seats.

The story jumps ahead five years(!!) to find our heroes scattered and broken, attempting to mend together the pieces in a world still devastated by its new reality. I loved that the Russos let us wallow in our heroes’ misery for a bit. You really get a sense of the loss they’ve experienced, that the entire world has experienced. These scenes offer some wonderful character beats and conversations, something that has always elevated Marvel above the rest of the pack.

Scott Lang, a.k.a. Ant-Man, escapes the Quantum Realm (you saw Ant-Man and the Wasp, right?) to discover a significantly altered world. But he brings a message of hope with him: the duration of time he experienced in the Quantum Realm was only 5 hours, suggesting the potential for time travel. Maybe they can find a way to fix the devastation Thanos has wrought by traveling back in time?

P.S. Can I just take a moment to talk about how much I love Paul Rudd in this movie? Ant-Man has been on the periphery of the MCU’s big events and to see him take on such a big role in this movie was a huge thrill.

This glimmer of hope inspires the band to get back together and it’s genuinely surprising where some of them have ended up. Bruce Banner has finally made peace with his meaner, greener side, resulting in Professor Hulk, a version of the character that maintains Banner’s intelligence and personality. Thor never overcame his grief and has spent the past five years descending into drunken slobbery and gaining a significant amount of weight in the process. This provides one of the film’s best sight gags. Plus, it’s maintained throughout! Kudos to you, Russos!

And then we have Mr. Tony Stark himself, the key to figuring out how to make time travel work. But he’s moved on. He and Pepper have an adorable daughter. He has absolutely zero desire to lose what he has. Ultimately the realization that he can save the lives of countless billions - including one surrogate son Peter Parker - drives him to support the cause.

Endgame’s 2nd act centers around the newly reassembled Avengers time-traveling into the past to gather the Infinity Stones, bring them to their future and use them to ‘un-snap’ their fallen comrades. These sequences are fun and light on their feet. They’re especially effective in lieu of the grim opening scenes.

Here’s the thing, though: As much as I love this portion of the film and the way the time travel stuff is handled, I couldn’t help feeling there was a general lack of consequence to everything that happened during this sequence. Even when things skew from the team’s set plan, it doesn’t feel like a significant snag or an insurmountable obstacle. These moments are treated as minor annoyances before our heroes carry on with a new solution, nary breaking their strides or a sweat in the process.

It’s all fun in a Back to the Future Part II kind of way, but it’s treated more as an extended comedy bit than anything else, and to a certain extent, this robs Endgame of some level of suspense. Plus, it’s time travel. Once you throw time travel into the mix, all bets are off, and I couldn’t help shaking that feeling. After all, what’s to stop them from using this plot device again and again in the future, consequences be damned?

At the very least, the wackiness of the time travel sequence is balanced with some great character beats. I loved Thor’s tender moment with his mom. I loved Captain America vs. Captain America. I loved that Tony gets a sincere heart to heart with his dad, offering some much-needed closure. Robert Downey Jr. has never been anything less than wonderful in this role, but his performance in Endgame might take the cake. Honestly, everyone brings their A-game to the table and these moments ground the sequence, keeping it from getting too bonkers.

This sequence is also balanced with a genuinely tragic moment: Black Widow sacrifices herself to get the Soul Stone. I don’t know why this scene has been stirring up some people, because here’s the thing: this moment works perfectly. Natasha (Black Widow) and Clint (Hawkeye) travel to Vormir to obtain the Soul Stone. As established in Infinity War, the only way to obtain said stone is to sacrifice the thing you love most. Clint’s willing to take the plunge. He’s become a monster in the five years since his family’s disappearance (but an awesome, katana-wielding monster) and he doesn’t feel he deserves to see them again. Natasha knows this isn’t true and she’s willing to sacrifice herself to ensure Clint gets his happy ending. After all, he saved her all those years ago. It’s time to return the favor. It’s heartbreaking, but it feels right and Scarlett Johansson and Jeremy Renner sell every minute.

The plan is a success, but it's not without its snags. Past Thanos ends up getting involved when past Nebula tunes into future Nebula’s wifi and begins broadcasting everything future Nebula has seen, including the Avengers’ time travel plan. Thanos gets worked up into a tizzy and he and past Nebula devise a plan to get him into the Avengers’ future so he can ensure everyone snapped out of existence stays snapped out of existence. Also, why not wipe out everyone else in the process just for good measure? Because that’s what big, angry, purple maniacs do. Don’t question it.

Is it a bit weird that the Thanos the Avengers face isn’t the same Thanos so carefully fleshed out in Infinity War? Yeah, a little bit. To be honest, it makes things feel kind of impersonal. This Thanos feels more like the mysterious being teased in dozens of MCU post-credits sequence than the layered, thoughtful villain of the previous film. It’s a bit of a bummer, but it is what it is.

Ultimately, my biggest gripe with Endgame is the same gripe caused by Infinity War’s conclusion. We already knew the disintegrated heroes were going to come back for their obligatory sequels. Their arrival during Endgame’s epic battle to end all epic battles feels inevitable more than surprising.

And, look, let me be clear: Endgame’s climax is the ultimate superhero big battle you’ve been dreaming of since Nick Fury first name-dropped the ‘Avengers Initiative.’ I went nuts with the best of them when all our heroes returned from the abyss for this ultimate showdown, so understand my next criticism comes from a place of love. Once all the heroes show up, the stakes disappear. I didn’t have any doubt the Avengers would win. As a result, the climax is robbed of its suspense. It’s basically fan service to the nth degree, which again, I’d like to emphasize I was totally cool with. It just prevents the battle from conjuring up any emotional depth.

This isn’t The Return of the King. It's not the Battle of Hogwarts or the Death Star trench run or even the first Avengers' Battle for New York. It’s a big, flashy special effects extravaganza overflowing with crowd-pleasing beats, but lacking in genuine (here’s this word again) consequence. Again, I want to emphasize that I loved every second of it, but there’s a significant lack of loss during these scenes. Ultimately, Tony Stark sacrifices himself to save the universe and it’s absolutely BRILLIANT and heart-wrenching, but no one else seems in danger. Iron Man dies so that dozens of franchises can live on.

The remaining twenty minutes or so of Endgame are low key. We witness Tony’s emotional funeral, torches are passed (go, Sam Wilson, go!) and some unexpected-slash-exciting team-ups are teased (Fat Thor with the Guardians of the Galaxy? I am SO in.) But it’s during these quiet scenes that the Russos skillfully remind us what has always mattered the most: the characters. And I’m not going to lie, it’s difficult not to get choked up when Steve Rogers, a man who has sacrificed so much for the greater good, finally gets his happy ending, dancing the day away with the love of his life.

Big finales don’t get much more enjoyable or fulfilling than this. Marvel’s Cinematic Universe will go on and on and on. Inevitably, its quality will wane and fade, but we can rest easy knowing that the heroes that kicked everything off got the send-off they deserved. It might not be perfect, but it’s pretty damn great. Most importantly, it’s satisfying.

With the Infinity Saga, Marvel Studios has accomplished something extraordinary. They’ve touched countless millions across the globe without compromising the artistic quality of this multi-billion dollar franchise. We can rage on and on about Disney’s domination and how everything is just a corporate product and blah, blah, blah, but we’d be ignoring the fact that they got to where they are because they honored their source material and went out of their way to give the fans something special.

So to Kevin Feige and the entire team at Marvel Studios, cast, crew, writers, bean pushers, etc., I’d like to say thank you. You’ve earned every record-breaking penny. We love you 3000.

Now can someone please un-cancel Daredevil?? Come on!!

[dragonnan]

The Tiger and the Shark by dragonnan

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con

Category: Gen

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationships: (past) Irene Adler/ Sherlock Holmes, (pre-ish) Sherlock Holmes/ Molly Hooper (this is not a romance however)

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Molly Hooper, OMC, OFC, Mummy (Sherlock), Sherlock Holmes' Father, Greg Lestrade, Sally Donovan

Additional Tags: Charles Augustus Magnussen Mentioned, Allusions to HLV Deleted Scene, Rape/Non-con Elements, not graphic, However Could Be Quite Triggery, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Past Mary Watson, Staying Close to Canon, Until it isn't, Everything Hurts, Devastated Sherlock, Sherlock Needs A Hug, John Watson Needs A Hug, everyone needs a fucking hug, BAMF Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Murder, Autism Spectrum Sherlock, Apologies to Mycroft as he gets a bit of Non-Sympathetic Treatment here at first, Although he IS an Absolute Prat, Flashbacks, PTSD Sherlock

Summary: “Do you find it less frightening; knowing what will happen? I'd rather imagine the opposite were true. You see, my husband was a master at psychological games – planting seeds of intent and letting them grow whichever way his assets chose. The torments they imagined were horrors of their own design. Charles loved that – knowing they only needed a little... pressure. What horrors were you imagining, I wonder, when you blew his brains out?”

Author Notes: This is currently 18 chapters long and continuing to grow! I hadn’t, at all, planned on writing such a long fic for my first introduction to the Sherlock universe but the story demanded otherwise.  I know how hard a subject this is to read.  By and large, fics like this do not tend to get a wide readership.  I won’t pretend there aren’t difficult scenes to navigate.  However there are a LOT LOT more scenes that aren’t specific to the trauma endured.  I have a lot of happy times in here and MOST of this is comfort.  And there’s quite a bit that (in my opinion) is even funny at times.  So, I really hope you’ll give me a chance!  Below is the first chapter.  Thank you so much!

Flashing lights – purple haze... Not his ideal venue for client interactions, no matter how promising the game presented. John having made himself ill on whatever take away he'd wolfed down on the way to the flat that morning – leaving Rosie in the dubious care of Mrs. Hudson while he retired to his room to sleep it off; the end result being Sherlock was left to his own devices with regards to the current investigation. Hard to resist an 8, however.

Twenty minutes. Longer than he liked to wait for anyone, it was only the mild entertainment on the dance floor that had stayed him from an exit upon hitting the ten minute mark.

“Well you're a right pretty one.”

Comment filed and ignored – focus, instead, on the weaving steps of the fellow fifteen feet forward and knocking about the pub with seemingly no true purpose in mind.

A thick-skulled man; oafish, howling, to anyone offering a passing and uninterested glance. Sherlock, however, had rather a more curious focus. Not drunk – though slurring in a way to imply it while dragging his leg enough to leave a thin burn of rubber on the tile. Minimizing threat in one manner while presenting the inebriated brute to obfuscate intent. A character whom the average clientele would avoid and, should they remember him in any fashion, it wouldn't be for his face but for his slovenly discourse. Despite his uneven steps, he'd maintained a true course belying the affected intoxication.

A long digit, nail smooth and trimmed, ghosted along the curve of Sherlock's cheekbone. Head jerking away from the intrusion, he never took his eyes from his target while addressing his unwelcome paramour.

“I assure you, you will find no entertainment with me. However, if you wish to retain the use of your right index I would suggest you refrain from further physical contact.”

The oaf had, by now, made a steady journey past the dance floor on his way to the loo. However, rather than the gents – he brashly shoved into the ladies – expected caterwauling and the uptick of attention from the three bouncers who, rather than split duties and send an individual, converged en masse on the building chaos. Now, then, would be the start of the real action; when the accomplice would make his move. Easy money from the till or risky, yet greater, reward from the underground card game in the back offices?

“Ah, now, that wasn't what I was told. In fact... my employer had assured me you would be most... accommodating... Mr. Holmes.” Solid pressure – high and just under his left armpit while the other arm wrapped around his chest – for all appearances, to any distracted onlooker, guttered and needing a solid shoulder to ease him into the nearest cab. “Sorry I'm late, love. But I had to be certain dear John -boy wasn't going to scupper our date. Though I apologize about the Ipecac. Hope your boyfriend isn't too ropey.”

“Spiked his curry just to set up this little abduction; how dull. Should I be flattered?”

Breath heated against his ear – moist and tainted of expensive cigars and cheap kippers. “Oh, we'll 'ave plenty of time for chattering later, beautiful. For now, how about help a soused gent to the curb, yeah?”

Their journey to the door went unremarked. In minutes, the inside distraction would be hoisted out behind them – thus completing the little play-act that had been carried out with vexing success.

No shortage of villains who'd have wished him harm – creating this game to snare him for whatever vengeful purpose that struck their fancy. Moriarty was dead and, truth tell, this was nowhere the elaborate scheme he'd have imagined. For all of its effectiveness this had the earmarks of something recently contrived. A new enemy, then; angry enough to act swiftly rather than indulge in the long game. Case in point, the angular creature shoving him towards a waiting black sedan, while steady with his weapon, was loose with his tongue – having muttered several oaths about “that pig ugly old bint”. The rich blend of Liga Privada against the sharp stench of oily fish suggested a wealthy benefactor willing to entice and impress the less than affluent. Why? A skill-set, then, not in keeping with a higher class of criminal. Not difficult to ascertain said skills based on the overt displays of chilly affection. It also suggested a criminal whose services were not likely to end with a fat wallet but, rather, a slab at Barts. Hiring among the upper echelons invited questions when one of their number disappeared. Not so with the average street thug.

Though his body was being forced into the rumbling vehicle – aided along by the reappearance of the suddenly sober third member of their tiny gang, Sherlock's mind was already sorting and dismissing face after face from those he'd captured and those he'd aided – numerous enough foes among his clientele to include them as suspects.

By the time thick mounting tape had been wrapped around his wrists and a rough hood had been cinched beneath his jaw, he'd discarded twenty-five women from his list either due to age, inclination, or incarceration.

With the field condensed to only three remaining candidates, Sherlock tightened his focus on motive.

“Take it slow. Last thing we need is some rozzer berk nick us for speeding.” A shift – seat springs giving off a worn squeal. “Now then, how about a nice little nappy?”

Sherlock ducked but couldn't stop the hand closing around the back of his neck any more than he could wrest away from the heavy body pinning him into the corner next to the door. A moment later, he felt the pinching burn of a needle push into his arm. Drowsiness hit fast as a comfortable warmth blossomed through his belly – dipping his head down towards his knees. Though he fought the effects – speech an inarticulate slur – the drug could not be staved forever. Now gentle hands tipped him towards a lap – trousers rough against his cheek – whilst thick fingers pushed beneath the back of the hood and curled through his hair. Continuous motion carding from forehead to nape, he hadn't the will to shake free from the liberties taken. Roughly fifteen minutes on, one hand left his scalp to rest warm on his shoulder. Unconsciousness was deepening - bringing a thickening dark that surged up through his toes – a flooding swell that closed over his head like ink...

◦

Minimal conversation passed around him – heard but unimportant beyond cataloging. His eyes felt tacked shut and his body heavy – crumpled across the seat; head pillowed on hard thighs.

“...onna need to take one more left – up ahead, past that house, there.” A hand slapped, suddenly, on his arm and, though Sherlock didn't flinch, he tensed under the fingers that squeezed his bicep.

“Have a good rest, sweetheart?”

Fine layers of glaze peeled away to a molten haze. Blinking, no real aid, nor squinting – though at least the stickiness lessened.

No further stimulation from his abductors; no loss, that; he tuned back towards more fascinating contemplation – rudely delayed by the interruption of unconsciousness. So who was the spider at the center of this web?

“Pig ugly bint” - the oath one of several complaints with a misogynistic flair. His first list of candidates, then; female. Homely? Or merely deemed so due to assertiveness or rejection of sexual advances? Whom, among past and present association, held so strongly a grudge?

His suspects... just before the needle had slid into his bicep, he'd narrowed the field of possibilities to a trifecta.

He opened his eyes to white.

Three figures stood before him – similar only in gender.

Nettie Royston. Forty-three, widowed, with no children. A regular at NSY after a series of smash and grabs, she'd turned up on Sherlock's doorstep, two years previous, begging he investigate Scotland Yard, itself. In particular, its resident D.I. for harassment both of a psychological as well as a sexual nature. Determining that her primary goal was purely vindictive in an attempt to distract from her actual crimes, Sherlock had refused – leading to a sudden and startling rage at being rebuffed. Launching herself at the detective, she'd managed to smash one of Mrs. Hudson's prized tea cups against his temple before John had been able to subdue her. She'd threatened any number of imaginative retaliations while being led off by the constable. As it was, she had been on license for the last four weeks and would have had more than enough time to carry through with her scheme.

A warm chuckle as his back and he tipped his head to acknowledge the man behind him. Lestrade had his shoulders against the far wall of his mind palace – hands relaxed in the pockets of his trousers. “Nettie Royston? You really think she's responsible? You know, very well, she moved in with her sister in Inverness. I'm sure she hasn't had a spare thought for anything other than disappointing the little bit of family she has left. Besides, with her temperament, if she wanted revenge, she wouldn't hire hitmen – she'd take care of things herself. No doubt with a tire iron.”

“No doubt”, Sherlock muttered in return – the inspector fading away to smoke.

His remaining two possibles were equally as dodgy – a puzzle that brought a different take along with a companion to air the unasked question.

“What was it your highwayman said he gave me? Ipecac? You realize you can only get that by prescription. That isn't something some random yob is going to pick up at the local chemist.” John; sitting beside him in place of his captor while eyeing him in a blend of exasperation and humor. And it honed the thread of disquiet that had troubled him since the pub. The timing of it all – two levels of distraction carefully structured to imply sloppiness. Oh, he was slipping. It was a game with a far more clever master at the helm than he'd first attributed.

“And you have to admit – that bit about their employer – the “pig ugly bint”? Why go through all of this trouble to be quiet, now, yet carry on so much on the way to the car?” Molly – on his other side with her arms crossed and reclined against the window. Leading him by the nose... No need to hide a smile with the hood over his face. Still, his posture was a tell for the observant and he was swiftly becoming aware that the man he was swooning upon was watching with a keen eye.

“Ah... you got it now, do ya?”

Sherlock grunted; pushing somewhat more upright – the motion allowed and suggesting there was no longer a danger of being seen beyond the car windows.

“Not difficult with the pieces laid out so clearly – truly, was this subterfuge of your own crafting or is there a hand up your backside to play you like a puppet? I rather imagine the latter.”

Unperturbed by the insinuation of his words, the other man only chuckled – a far less painful response than a cuff to the head – but blind rage was the undoing of many a foe. A controlled enemy was a creature requiring a different sort of tact. No bargaining – no pleading for one's life nor appealing to one's better nature – this one was bought and sold and loyal to his master's coin purse if not loyal out of the moral code adhered to by those hired out and wishing to maintain a reputation amongst their fellow lowlifes.

“So whom is the puppet master...” He'd have steepled his fingers were they free – though he could make due by closing his eyes – backing through the past fifteen minutes plus lost time until he paused on the feel of dank breath against the back of his neck – the rouge revealing himself to his slow-witted prey.

“Past tense.” Snapped out observation and enough to pique interest from his unwelcome companion.

“What was that?”

Sherlock smirked. “When you spoke of your employer. A subtle, yet detectible implication in your words. You maintained an element of the past tense. The only time you altered tense was in reference to your alleged 'bint' – a valiant yet ultimately clumsy red herring and certainly not a misdirect a man of your intellect would be capable of, at any rate.” Now he sensed the anger – just there, under the laugh – a hesitation – a tightening of muscles. “I noticed the smell whilst you were affixing this hood over my eyes. Not the layered aromas of your breath, no, but the stench rising from your tread. The odor of manure – faint – beneath the cologne and shoe polish. And then there were your hands. Nails trimmed, clean but calloused – specifically between the ring and pinkie fingers as well as along the distal transverse. Spent a lot of time working with horses, did you? Not to mention the slight limp and distinct tang of liniment that no amount of body spray can quite disguise. But you're no stable master – you've spent almost no time astride as you lack the coordination and balance of a seasoned rider; though your age would suggest you should have attained such a station were your education up to the task. But you haven't been employed for some time though that does beg the question as to why you'd forego job seeking to heed the demands of a master who, as it appears by your blundering hint dropping, is dead?”

“Blundering...?”

“Had – not has. Was, not is. Past tense. And, yet, you are currently employed – a requirement when the game is chess but clearly you're playing checkers. These moves are not your own – no – this would require more sophistication than you're capable – your MO more in keeping with a back alley buggering than an extended stay with the veneer of interrogation. Ordered to keep hand's off, were you? You seemed to enjoy our little cuddle – given the uneven lap and speed of respiration so not just the clichéd' scare tactic but the clichéd villain. No doubt hoping the threat of sexual violence would break me down prior to arrival – make me malleable. Not to shatter your fantasy but this is boring. The on again off again cockney, however – ah – but that's interesting. Never measured up to the masters who employed you – always wanting to appear more than you were – smarter than you are – better than the Joe Bloggs you can barely stand to see in the mirror. 'ow does e' know I'm repulsed by my reflection?” Affected accent; mocking before he dropped back to his regular baritone, “The uneven shave could be deliberate – likely deliberate lest you stand out too posh at the club but uneven sideburns? That suggests maintenance without the benefit of visual oversight. Features average, aside from the rosacea across the nose and cheeks and a facial tic near your left eyelid. Adjacent to an old scar; did one of your victims fight back? Could have been an injury at the stable but victim seems more likely – three narrow lacerations – someone tried to gouge out your eyes. Your inadequacies are, very literally, written all over your face. Is that why your conquests are forced? Nobody else would have you?”

The flare of outrage, deeply inhaled breath and a shifting of the leather seat, was settling again as the other man leaned back with a breathy laugh. “Now that is impressive – no doubt. I mean, I heard about your talents but it's nothin like seeing it first hand.”

The car thumped hard, jostling them both and throwing Sherlock against his captor – another rough rocking the other way had him knocking his forehead against the rear passenger's side window.

“Oi! Slow it down on these roads, you josser! We ain't in a rush and we sure don't need a blow out!”

The absent sounds of traffic had already informed that they'd left London behind even before they'd come across such pitted roads. The scents of tar, oil, and exhaust gave over to the sweeter bloom of fresh dirt and white clover. But, more so than that... distant cries of seabirds and the ripening smell of saltwater.

And Sherlock knew where they were heading. More than that, he knew who had set all of this into motion – for all the good that would do him. A final, twisted game from beyond the grave. He really was slow to catch on...

“Come, now; don't beat yourself up, little brother. After all, it isn't often that one has two mortal enemies, is it. And both with their brains blown out, too, no less! A bountiful bit of irony, that.” Mycroft – sounding smug, as usual, brushed invisible dust from his lapel. Sherlock found that, whether flesh and blood or mental construct, Mycroft was equally insufferable. At least with this one he could banish him with a flick of his chin.

“So...” he intoned – hitching himself upright against the seat back, “how long have you known Charles Magnussen?”

◦

Hours, since the last encounter with the the cool ring of porcelain in the loo. Stomach cramped from heaving, stumbling through the kitchen for a cuppa and cursing the dodgy grip of his trembling hands that nearly cascaded scalding camomile across his lap. A wander back through the sitting room found it unexpectedly empty. While his flatmate was not above the occasional vanishing he'd been better, in recent months, about announcing his absences. At the very least a text after a few hours out. Well, nothing for it but to initiate contact. Maybe convince his friend to fetch home a few cans of broth – the flat, once again, devoid of comfort food beyond a stale package of digestives. Mobile in hand, as he sank into his chair, John tapped of a quick message before taking a cautious swallow of tea. Still too hot – lips wincing back at the burn.

It was the shatter of his cup, on the hearth, that startled him back awake. Christ, Mrs. Hudson would not thank him for demolishing one of her rose cups. Hours? Minutes? Watch check – half an hour. Bleary – belly still cramping but improving a bit.

He dug his mobile from the cushion where it had slipped and tapped to wake his screen. No reply. Sighing, John sent a second text – a bit more persistent, perhaps, but dammit he was shattered and not in the mood for moods.

Drifting, then, and half of a mind to switch on the telly were the clicker not on the other table and far from his fingertips. Not being in possession of a mind palace, John contended himself, instead, with drowsy blinks and an internal debate about whether he should risk the cricked neck to sleep in the chair or drag himself to the bedroom for a proper sleep. He checked his messages again.

That little thrill of concern was edging into actual worry, now. Sherlock may ignore him when hunched over a microscope or sulking in his chair – long fingers propped up beneath his chin. But in the wind – sick friend abed and foregoing any normal alleviation such as leaving behind a note to his whereabouts – that was no longer Sherlock's method. Not since Mary...

Switching tactics, John sat up a bit and rang his landlady – texting not really her forte, after all. Her thin voice picked up almost immediately. Probably had her portable sat at her side.

“Oh, John? How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? Rosie's fine – just got her down for a nap.”

“I'm fine. Look, have you heard from Sherlock?”

“Sherlock?” Distracted sounds, then – distinct clank of the kettle. “No – not for several hours, at any rate when he ran out of here, slap dash, and caught a cab at the curb.”

John rubbed eyes that felt as though they'd grown three times in size. “No word where he was headed?”

“Oh, goodness no, when have you lot ever told me anything of where you were going?” Rustle of slippers against the floor and another, softer, clink of porcelain. “Now, don't you fret. I'm certain Sherlock is just fine.”

He knew her reassurance should have set him at ease but the actual result was to sent his heart racing. Since when was Sherlock ever fine?

◦

“Never met the man.” Was the only reply he'd been given – just before another needle point pierced Sherlock's arm with an unskilled hand – the sedative more painful than the last injection and likely to bruise. Though not rendering him instantly unconscious, it had the benefit, to his captors, of leaving him uncoordinated and weak as the vehicle slowed – clearly nearing its destination to the large estate last viewed from the rising cockpit of his brother's helicopter. Driving round the back, the rushing thunder of the ocean dulled to ringing silence as they pulled into what must have been an underground car park.

The seat shifted – tipping Sherlock towards the failed stableman and the bloom of foulness gusting between his teeth. “Wakey-wakey, darlin' – we're home!” No room to battle nor gilded with the energy for thrashing, Sherlock was left with the ignobility of being carried over the larger man's shoulders and into a lift. The acoustics laid pressure against his eardrums as the doors clamped shut and the tiny room vibrated with a deep rumble. And then they started down.

Not given to visible displays of shock, Sherlock had a moment to ponder if Mycroft's people had uncovered the lower level before dismissing the likelihood of its existence almost immediately. Had they done, the property would be an odd choice for an abduction – not to mention the upcoming activities that would require both privacy and security.

Twice Sherlock felt himself being shifted on broad shoulders – his height making him an unwieldy burden regardless of the strength of the carrier. Not exactly comfortable for himself, either, his ribs digging rather painfully into the blunt angle of the other man's shoulder. The lift came to a halt after 6 seconds of travel. Assuming the average height of a standard floor multiplied by the speed of the lift itself – slower than average accounting for the smoother ride – he estimated they had descended 50 feet below ground.

While the doors slid open with the same gentle rumble as they'd shut – there was now the added electronic signature of a card reader followed by the mild squeal of hinges in need of service. Not a place frequented by its former owner – the fungal smell of damp earth and seeping moisture a vast contrast to the crisp perfection of the manor above.

The space was smaller, as well, forcing the two men to walk one behind the other. A hallway – the walls close on either side and the ceiling low enough that Sherlock could hear the echo of his captor's steps just above his head. No doubt he'd cave his skull were he to attempt raising it. At the very least he'd earn a frustrating injury that would do nothing to procure his escape.

They went this way for another 30 steps – stopping whilst the other man fumbled at a door and its unfamiliar lock. By the time Sherlock had been dropped back to his feet, unsteady and a bit nauseous, he had fully tired of the subterfuge.

His arms were fastened with shackles – breath speeding through his nostrils, only for a moment, as Serbia revisited with blistering presence – buried back beneath the flagstone of his mind as the hood was ripped dramatically from his face. Sherlock rolled his eyes and shifted his shoulders at the uncomfortable spread of his arms. At least they hadn't relieved him of his shirt. They'd even left him his belstaff and scarf.

The horse man belly laughed at the glare revealed with the removal of the offending hood. “Ah, dove, you do look a right sexy devil with that pout on!” He mocked a blown kiss while the other man, ignoring the exchange, tapped at his phone.

Too deep for a signal to penetrate and he didn't imagine their employer would enjoy them texting mid-abduction. A code, possibly... Thought barely formed when hard soles with a slow stride approached from beyond the only visible door in or out of the dank space.

Sherlock tipped his head. “So your employer is a woman.”

“She is, indeed.” Voice speaking beyond the closed door – so not sound proofed. But, then, why would it need to be? A moment's pause – dramatics? No, her shoulder led – hands occupied with a large tablet. She had yet to look up as she crossed the room. Sherlock indulged in evaluation.

Auburn hair – long, could fall to mid-back though kept coiled in a loose bun at the nape. Elegant and professional yet easy to loosen at a moment's notice. Eyes and lips made up but not ostentatious. Nail glaze clear, garment fitted; fabric a silk blend – no give to the fibers and designed to show off her curves with every movement. Heels... low, base broad – meant to be worn throughout the day. Her indulgence was jewelry – rings in particular as there were two on her right hand and a third on the left. The stones were smooth – though not all of equal value. Two of the rings were gold and inset with aquamarine and larimar, respectively. The third – older – ill-fitted on the right anular – narrow along the lower circlet, worn thin from years of spinning the piece – nervous gesture. Gold alloy showing a pale distortion near the stone – peridot from its distinctive golden green. Were the corrosion from a regularly handled chemical, she'd remove the jewelry and wear gloves. A mild erosion – built up over time. Years. Cleaning solution? No – again, necessitating the removal of jewelry. The stone was affordable – the setting implying a sentiment. The other two rings were gifts of extravagance when money was of no consequence. Moved to the right hand yet still in a place of honor. Widowed. Regular exposure to something with a moderate PH. Not enough to harm the epidermis but enough to erode the alloy over time...

“...you'll get used to it...”

Sherlock dug a molar into his cheek to stop the tremble.

The woman stopped in front of him, cherry lips angling into a smile as she tucked her tablet against her breasts. “Carlotta Alexis Magnussen, Mr. Holmes. You murdered my husband.”

[framedepth]

A Defense of Iron Man 2

With the world currently preparing to probably be somewhat “whelmed” by the upcoming mega-crossover Avengers: Infinity War, I, like most of the film-viewing planet, have been re-watching the Marvel oeuvre in order to enter the correct headspace to really take in what that movie is going to be. The product of a ten-year long waiting game that most audiences have been more than happy to play, built on the foundation of a 2008 film that set the film industry on a path that we’re still going to be following another ten years from now. I’m still early into this project of sitting on my couch and reliving so many memories of speculating with high school friends about what superhero the next end-credits scene will tease, and it has already given me some shocking realizations: the first Iron Man is still the best Marvel movie, Captain America: The First Avenger isn’t the rollicking, Indiana Jones-esque adventure classic I remembered it being, and, maybe most shocking to even the biggest Marvel fans, Iron Man 2 is still just as good as I thought it was when I was 16.

I so often see it ranked in the bottom five of the Marvel listings, and because it has been a few years since I watched it incessantly following the Blu-Ray release, I figured it was a movie that just hadn’t aged well when compared to the more recent Marvel works. Despite my loving it upon release, I never argued for its merits when people declared it the “worst Marvel film”, or “boring”, or “meandering”. I’ve been a life-long Iron Man fan, first of him as a character in video games before getting into the many, many trade paperback collections of his solo comics. My obsession with Tony Stark made me completely eat up anything Marvel Studios put out featuring him until recent years, when I had the realization during my first screening of Captain America: Civil War that I didn’t care that I was seeing Iron Man in a movie anymore. And I realized I hadn’t cared when I saw the Hulkbuster in Avengers: Age of Ultron either. I enjoy both movies fine, but Robert Downey, Jr.’s Tony Stark doesn’t give me that same jolt of excitement he did just a few years previous. It could be a writing or performance issue, but I think the real reason is that Tony Stark has stopped growing as a person in any kind of believable way. When taking a look back at the first two Iron Man films, and from my memories of the third, Tony used to feel like a real person that had real issues to overcome.

2008′s Iron Man showed us a man being forced to experience all of the damage he has been causing the world first-hand, and being broken by this. When he emerges from that cave in that armor, he is beginning the journey down a path to becoming a better person. Tony spends a lot of that movie being angry, of course at Obadiah Stane and the Ten Rings, but mostly at himself, for creating the monster that took the lives of Yinsen, his family, and nearly Tony himself. He failed to see that he inadvertently had been arming both sides of the war on terror, taking money from both the military industrial complex and the terrorists that kill young American soldiers, and spending that money on alcohol and sex. That rage is what fuels Tony in that film, and allows him to purge Stark Industries of Obadiah Stane, the first steps into making up for the terrible things he has been doing for his whole life.

Thinking this is enough to be a better person, Tony reverts back to some of his old ways, but now equipped with the Iron Man armor and a whole new level of fame he didn’t even know was possible. This is where we begin Iron Man 2, where he is once again bragging about how he has achieved peace through his designs, and reveling in the fact that he has the press and the public groveling at his feet. It is no question then that he and Pepper Potts have gone back to their familiar dynamic as well, as he is not yet ready for that level of commitment to anything. He is also drinking more than he ever has before, a characteristic that his comic book counterpart had been known for best before any sort of film adaptation came around. Alongside all of this toxic behavior is a handy plot-device of the palladium core in his arc reactor poisoning his blood, which gets worse as his attitude and decision-making does. Of course, the higher the percentage gets, the crazier his decisions and personality become, as he tries to comes to grips with his imminent death, creating a sort of feedback loop that causes things to spiral for him. This is where Tony starts to become aware of the other parts of himself he must purge if he is to complete the journey he began when he stomped out of that cave in that hulking grey armor.

If this weren’t already too much for Tony to deal with, the movie also introduces one of the roots for the various character flaws Tony has under his belt, his father Howard Stark. A mixture of Walt Disney and Howard Hughes, Howard Stark is first introduced as a genial, smiling older man standing next to a model of “the city of the future”, putting on his best face for the American public. But he is later referred to as a “lion” by the Justin Hammer, and as a “thief” and a “butcher” by Ivan Vanko. Like Tony, Howard had a duel life, one as a cheery hero to the common man and another as a death dealing weapons manufacturer. He never got around to being a father to Tony Stark, who was following in his exact footsteps right up until the shrapnel entered his chest. But in a video revealed to him by Nick Fury, Tony sees that Howard went through the same struggle of identity, and also had to come to grips with all of the terror and pain that he has unleashed upon the world. Howard’s method for redeeming his incredibly spotty legacy is Tony himself, and leaves him a secret within the Stark Expo floorplans in an attempt to rebuild the world he once helped destroy. Similarly, Tony realizes that his gift to the world is Iron Man, but has been wasting that gift on himself. This is of course all mixed in with Hammer and Vanko making plays against Stark, as well as Black Widow being set-up for her inclusion in the rest of the franchise.

All of that would be well and good, except for the frustrating fact that not a lot of these very disparate and seemingly unrelated plot threads are not fully resolved till later movies or just not picked up at all. Tony’s drinking comes to a head in this film in a scene in which Tony pilots the suit drunk in order to appease a house full of partygoers and nearly decapitates a few with a repulsor beam, but this is seemingly glossed over by a fight he has with Rhodey minutes later. He experiences no real consequences for being an out of control alcoholic, and it still has not been addressed as of Civil War, and I highly doubt it will come to pass in either of the Infinity War movies. It really seemed to be the big emotional climax that the first two films were building to, the final “demon” that Tony would have to conquer on his road to betterment. Instead, he receives a much needed humbling moment when he enters the wormhole at the end of The Avengers, and sees that the universe is much grander than he anticipated. That continues the arc of his personality issues and carries into Iron Man 3, and we see a much more cooperative Tony from thereon out. Iron Man 3 completes his identity crisis by proving to him that he is not overshadowed by his work, either good or bad, like he fears he will be in that cave in the first film, and showing that he still has things to offer the world despite just being “a man in a can”. The less said about what Age of Ultron and Civil War do for Tony’s character, the better. At this point, his character is completely dependent on what the plot needs it to be. I have already forgotten much of what he does in Spider-Man: Homecoming, but I do remember thinking the mentor role serves him well.

So why defend Iron Man 2 if it fails to deliver on the plots it sets up? Mainly because it dares to address these things in the first place. The only other movies in the Marvel canon to come close to the level of introspection Iron Man 2 attempts to do are Iron Man 3 and Black Panther. The moments we see of John Slattery’s Howard Stark are eye-opening in terms of Tony’s character, and show that he does have something to relate to his father over. The many attempts to recreate the Iron Man armor show Tony that what he thinks is the ultimate arbiter of peace by way of obsolescence is just the opening of a can of worms that may lead to the next arms race. It asks if Tony Stark can truly overcome his immoral past, or if he is doomed to be the leader on the world’s ultimate path to the apocalypse, despite what his intentions may be. That’s not a question that gets asked in your more typical Marvel fare, which many people still claim this movie is.

Secondly, while there are of course things to tear apart story, character, and performance wise in some areas, the action and effects are top notch. Black Panther this year showed how bad VFX can be in blockbusters, but that is not something Iron Man 2 suffers from, even eight years out. While it is infuriatingly short, watching Iron Man and War Machine fight the Hammer drones works as pure spectacle, to say nothing of the entire chase sequence that precedes it. There have been of course better action sequences out of Marvel since then, but it has been a very close race with the climax of this film always in the discussion for me.

Lastly, Sam Rockwell’s performance as Justin Hammer makes it a true tragedy that he no longer seems to be a part of the MCU in spite of the fact that he is one of the few Marvel villains to survive the entire run-time of a film. He does make a brief cameo in the short film All Hail the King, but it is not nearly enough for what he deserves. Rockwell was in the running to play Tony in the first film, and it’s not too hard to imagine an alternate universe where we see a pre-shrapnel Tony acting very similarly to Hammer in this film. In different moments he can be smooth, buffoonish, intimidating, and weaselly. He deserves to return in Iron Man 4 (if we are ever blessed enough to receive one) for the dance he does onto the expo stage alone.

I’m not calling for a complete critical re-evaluation of Iron Man 2 in order to establish it as one of the best films of the decade or anything, I just wanted to call attention to the fact that there seems to be more going on in the movie than people give it credit for. It of course doesn’t hold a candle to its predecessor, but it does shine some lights on Tony’s character that would have been extremely fascinating threads to follow had things gone differently with the franchise. My only hope is that Infinity War cares enough to make it seem as though Tony Stark is a real person again.

[tomupside]

The Review You Deserve: The Avengers: Infinity War

Infinity War? More like Infinity Bore!

 [searches for high-fives]

 [finds none]

 Okay, that’s harder than Infinity War deserves. It wasn’t boring. That’s a positive that I can give it. But let’s face it, I saw it once, and that’s all I needed. In short: Infinity War was . . . better at doing particular aspects, but, overall, was on the same level as the lowest-common-denominator Marvel film out there.

 Spoilers ahead . . .

 Infinity War isn’t a single film, but three or four separate films stitched together by a single theme: how all these heroes tried to stop Thanos, and failed. Or, really. it’s a film antholgy trimmed down to a single Abridged movie.

The plot for Infinity War is simple: Thanos wants the infinity gems (or “stones,” as they’re called in the movie-verse) because there are too many people in the universe, and there needs to be a culling. This is the motivations of an insane person driven as such by past tragedies, but because this is Disney, we get all of this in exposition and are informed that he is a “tragic villain” through monologues over sad violins.

(Tangent: Loki was a great villain because the writers and director of Thor understood Shakespeare! You, Disney, do not! Fucking stop it!)

The heroes need to stop Thanos because they’re told that he wants the Infinity Stones for “Bad Things.” Well, that’s the surface-level reason. For the most part though, the heroes all find a reason to want to stop Thanos for personal reasons: Tony, because Thanos caused his PSD; Gamora, because he adopted her after slaughtering half her planet.

We start the story with Generic Uber-Bad’s Generals and Thanos, having just killed all of the surviving Asgardians, trying to get Infinity Stones from Thor and Loki . . . and in the most clumsy of sequences, they do. But they didn’t get them all, and with his final breath, Heimdall sends Hulk back to Earth (leaving Thor, Loki, and the Tesseract – the one thing Thanos was killing your people for – behind, because that totally makes sense as a dying gesture.)

Thanos then kills Loki after getting the Tesseract, and blows up the Asgardian ship and, supposedly, Thor with them. (Though don’t worry, he manages to survive the vacuum of space for just long enough – that being at least a few hours, if not days – to be saved by the Guardians of the Galaxy.)

 Hulk lands, conveniently, in the Sanctum Sanctorum, where he warns Doctor Strange of what’s going on. That’s when Thanos’ minions show up to get the Time Gem –

– which happens to be when Tony Stark is giving his heart-felt Two Weeks to Retirement speech. Spidey happened to be friendly in the neighborhood too, and the three of them wind up on the Minion Ship when Strange is kidnapped.

Later, the remaining minions try to get to Vision when and his mind gem while he’s with Scarlet Witch (because Bulma Briefs invented frikin’ Infinity Stone Scouters for them, apparently?) but get thwarted by Captain America, Falcon, and Black Widow (the *most powerful* Avengers out there.) They convene at Avenger Compound, where Bruce Banner is waiting with Rhodes (because that makes sense?)

Meanwhile, Thor tells the Guardians “Thanks, but fuck off” and, with Groot and Rocket Raccoon to forge a new hammer, while the rest go off elsewhere.

Then we start following the segments: Section 1: Peter Quill and the remaining Guardians try to stop Thanos themselves before he can get the stone from The Collector.

Section 2: Thor, Rocket, and Groot try to forge Mjolnir 2.0.

Section 3: Earth tries to protect the Infinity Stones that they have.

Section 4: Iron Man, Spider-Man, and Doctor Strange try to take the fight to Thanos.

Spoilers: They all fail. In some cases, for the most spectacularly dumb reasons imaginable.

Double-Spoilers: This is the first part in a two-parter, so guess who doesn’t beat the bad-guy in his goal to destroy half the life in the universe.

The film had potential. That Disney still refuses to get any real red blood on its hands is a small reason why it failed. The real reason it failed is because so many decisions were made not because they were logical to the characters or to the moment, but because they had to happen so the story could reach the next plot point. SO much of the story could’ve been solved if someone had just pulled the trigger when they had the chance! And you can’t use the whole “Well, they’re super heroes, so they have rules against killing . . . “ NO! Every one of these cretins has killed, whether blatantly or indirectly. But they had to be frikin’ idiots, because otherwise Thanos would’ve been stopped not even forty-five minutes into the movie!

And I don’t get it! I don’t get why, in a two-and-a-half hour film, you can’t dedicate at least ten minutes to show what could have been so bad in Thanos’ past that he would think wiping out half the life in the universe is a good thing, rather than have him tell us in almost five separate fucking monologues? Fucking five?! It creates a greater emotional connection for the audience when we get to feel that moment once and at the same time as the character. They obviously knew this, because they fucking showed that tender  moment when Thanos  kidnapped Gamora as a kid so she wouldn’t be slaughtered by his own kill-squad! Otherwise, we might not have cared as much when he threw her off a  cliff so he could get the Soul Stone! See! THAT made us feel for Thanos! That worked! We got why Thanos was crying, and why he kept being choked up through the film about her death, because we were there when he found her as a kid! Wouldn’t it have been nice to have that same goddamn moment instead of him  saying why he thought killing half the universe would be something good for everyone?

And of course – of course – Disney can’t let a somber moment be somber! “Oh, hi Thor! You just saw your brother be strangled in front of your eyes and your entire people slaughtered? Well, let’s have a goof-off with Peter Quill and you constantly call Rocket Raccoon a rabbit! Isn’t that great!” Or how about half the Earth population being dusted like in Buffy in the worst tragedy ever, but have Samuel L. Jackson almost get off a trademark Muthafukka? Wakka wakka fart joke!

It’s called “timing!” you repugnant rodent! Learn it!

We, the fan boys, got a bit of what we wanted. We got to see Thor with the Guardians of the Galaxy. We got to see man-child Peter Quill geek a bit with child-man Peter Parker. We had a snark-off between Stark and Strange. We got to see Robert Downey Junior phone-in impotence jokes at the expense of Bruce Banner-nee’-Hulk in a moment that shouldn’t have had jokes because Jesus Christ movie just let us have a serious moment here! But so much of the film’s progression necessitated everyone either taking a free-action to explain everything to us or to act completely out of character! Spoiler Alert: Nice job fucking things up, Andy Dwyer! Your plan to save the Universe was perfect except the part that involved you!

The directing was passable, but barely. The action scenes were cluttered at times, but for the most part, not as messy as they could’ve been. But overall, that’s all the directing was: passable. No scene passed along any sort of emotional weight, nor hinted at anything deeper than they were expressing. Even the harder moments, up until the end, didn’t hit. For example: When Gamora died . . . I felt nothing. There was no emotional impact. Thanos threw her off, we saw how sad it made Thanos . . . and then the corpse. Mufasa had a better fall-death! Hell, Inspector Javert had a better fall-death!

Also, the ending . . . which was just that: an ending. Which, I get it, it's how the comic book The Infinity Gauntlet ended. Good job, writers, you read a trade paperback! It gave no indication that there was going to be anything coming, like with Empire Strikes Back. It was just . . . and end. A "Fuck You." (And no, post-credits don't count! They never count! Stingers are post-sex cuddling!)

Now, there were a LOT of clever misdirects that kept things interesting: the reveal of Gamora’s Swiss Army Knife, which everyone in the audience was made to believe was going to be used to kill Thanos, but wound up ultimately being used as a set-up to failure, being one of the better ones. There were nice touches! And some of the parts that set up Person A being on the Infinity Kill List, but only to show that it was Person B or Person C instead, were nicely done.

But I don’t care. Because I know that these deaths are all going to be undone in the second part. In a universe where everyone can and has come back to life (coughcoughGrootcoughcoughColsoncoughcough) all of these dustings have as much impact as any comic book death or pro wrestler retirement. Plus, they didn’t kill any of the A-listers. All of the original Avengers made it to the end. Only the Second Wavers bit it.

People will say that Disney took a risk with this one. This won’t be true. Every person who died will be brought back. All the consequences will be reverted. Timey-wimey will save the day. And thanks to the Magic Space Beeper which Nick Fury apparently had the whole fucking time, we will now have our new Captain Mary Sue to come and save our day soon. (Which honestly pissed me off most: if you had a magic space beeper that could summon a space Captain Marvel to come save anyone at any time, why didn’t you use that in the first Avengers film, Fury?! And even if she did show up, what the Hell could she do now? Spin the Earth in reverse faster than the speed of light, and turn back time twenty-four hours?! Thanos won! You’re dusted! Game over, man!) I’d say the only parts of this film worth watching are the fights, but even then, that’s only on occasion. Again, so much of the action depended on contrivance (“Oh no, his space weapon somehow prevents me from phasing, especially in this scene where I’m not being attacked! Thank god Black Widow is strong enough to block it with her not-super strength, which I have, and with her weapons made of regular material, and not from Vibranium, which is the unbreakable material that I’m made from!”) that I kept expecting Thanos to reveal that he had fabricated the events from Reality Stone out of bored curiosity the whole time.

And what the Hell, Disney? You own Industrial Lights and Magic, one of only two special effects studios in Hollywood! So why do you keep phoning in the CG? Seriously, the fight between Thanos and Hulk looked like something out of a first-generation World of Warcraft cinematic! And I can’t be the only one who noticed how obviously rotoscoped Bruce Banner was in the Hulkbuster armor at the end! Vaporwave videos had less shifting! And don’t tell me “Look at how awesome they made Thanos in all the close-ups!” because that’s just proof of what they can do when they decide to do it, the lazy assholes!

Infinity War is typical Disney, which is now synonymous with glitter-rolled bullshit! There are parts which are worth paying attention to, but is, on whole, worth ignoring. The motivations were superficial; the drama was lip-service; the characters had almost no consistency; and nobody in the audience seemed to care, because that’s what we’ve come to expect from the studio that brought us Dog with a Blog.

Final Score

Rating: 5.5/10

Xowie: 2

Half-Life: 15 months

Nelson Ranking: Laundry Film

Tom Upside

- Up until the end, Thanos, himself, only kills two people. And one of those people he kills is technically a villain. Now somebody go back and confirm this, because this film is too bullshit for me to care.

[solarbird]

The Armourer and the Living Weapon, Chapter 10: she even got me, once

This chapter is worksafe.

[AO3 link]

"Are you ready?" asked Oilliphéist, over audio-only comms.

"I am," replied Widowmaker.

"Château," said Emily.

"Châteauneuf-du-Pape," responded the sniper.

"Vaucluse."

"Signal de Saint-Pierre."

"Lavande."

"What're they doing?" asked Winston, quietly, leaning to Lena, as the two assassins continued to exchange words.

"They did this before, Widow explained it to me," the teleporter replied, leaning to Winston, equally quiet. "It's a kind of integrity check? It's a series of trigger words that key other words. It changes on its own, over time, so if one or two words change, it's no big deal, right? But if it changes a lot, quickly - somebody's mucked with her."

The scientist nodded. "Handy, given where they came from. Emily's English, though - why's it all in French?"

Lena just shrugged, focusing on the word series. The sequence sounded the same as before, to her, but she wasn't entirely sure - she'd tried to remember the list, but there were so many words. She heard Emily say, "Livraison," and immediately thought, Metro.

"Metro," said Widowmaker, and Lena smiled.

"Centre météorologique canadien," replied Oilliphéist.

"Armoiries."

"Exactly the same as last time."

"Your side, as well," said the spider, "to my distinct relief."

"So," said Lena, "you both basically... check out?"

Widowmaker nodded. "Yes. I wish you had this facility, as well. It is... reassuring."

"Talon didn't build that into you, did they." It wasn't a question. "I wouldn't think they'd want you t'know."

"Spot on," said Emily, over comms. "I think it's a side-effect. We found it ourselves, in her, first - and now I have it, too!"

"Nothin' personal, but if the ability to checksum my brain comes only as part of gettin' my brain rebuilt, I'll opt out."

Widowmaker allowed her lover a small smile. "Understandable."

"Em, you still hiding out at the safehouse?"

"Yes, and it's incredibly dull. Have you talked to Overwatch's council yet?"

"About to - we wanted to check in with you, first. Let you know we were alive."

"I do appreciate that - but Aunt Moira's getting pretty impatient."

"Yeah, well, she can wait - this is our first day out of quarantine. We'll be meeting up after lunch."

"I'll tell her you're out of Overwatch jail, at least... oh! How is, um, the cowboy?"

"Embarrassed," said the defector. "Deservedly."

"Don't be mad at him," Emily replied over comms, "Auntie's good with those darts. They're self-guided. She even got me, once!"

"Before, or after?" asked Widowmaker.

A laugh, over comms. "Before, obviously. But still."

"She wouldn't get me now," said Tracer, as Widowmaker nodded in agreement. "Nor me, I think," her lover added.

A giggle. "I'm pretty sure she'd love another chance to practice those upgrades, if he wanted to come by..."

"No," interrupted Tracer, firmly. "Now that we've checked in - we've got some prep work to do on this end, and I need to get some workout time with those pistols you made."

Widowmaker agreed, humming quietly. "Cherie, do you mind? We will contact you again after the meeting."

"I'll be waiting. And tell me how it goes, on the range! I'm so glad to hear your voices again - both of you."

"I know," replied the sniper, eyes half-closed, "it is the same, for me."

"Oilliphéist out."

"Widowmaker out."

"I don't remember giving you clearance for your pistols," Dr. Ziegler said, sternly, as the comms went quiet.

Tracer shook her hands. "C'mon, doc, we've both been locked up for days. I know I need a workout."

"As do I," noted the spider.

"You must have something we can use..."

"This is a research facility, not an Overwatch station. We have a weights room, which you are both welcome to use, but we have nothing like you're requesting." The doctor considered. "Fareeha uses a Helix Security facility when here, perhaps," she thumbed her comm. "Perhaps we can work something out. I'll be right back." She walked to her private office, and the two women talked, quietly, over comms, for a few minutes, before returning.

"Good news; we have a site. She'll meet us there," said the scientist. "No sniper rounds, I'm sorry. But we do have clearance for pistols, supervised, as long as they're kept unloaded outside the range."

The assassin shrugged. "I could, I suppose, limber up with my chain, and re-establish targeting. It is better than nothing."

"Yeah, love," smiled her partner. "Maybe you can even keep up with me now!"

A derisive snort. "I always could."

An hour later, Tracer jinked from target to target, faster than ever, four to five teleports at a time. This is... this is wizard, she thought, as she unloaded entire clips into targets in patterns - smiley faces, outlines of airplanes, her initials, whatever came to mind.

Widowmaker watched from a level above, tracking her lover with her empty Kiss, and finding it difficult at first - until her own quickness started to settle in, overriding old habits, old limits, and as it did, she purred. Ooh la la, she thought. This is better. This is... this is wonderful.

Pharah, in turn, watched from above, astonished at their raw speed, occasionally exchanging words with Winston over comms, Winston, who worried - deeply - for them both.

-----

"So that's basically the situation," Lena explained. "We can intervene on one side of this civil war Talon's got going. If we pull it off, we tip the balance back to where it was before Akande got sprung. Moira continues to be terrifying and awful, Talon continues to be a pack of wankers - no offence, love..."

"None taken," replied Widowmaker. "I defected for reasons, after all."

"...but we stop Talon's attempt to start a Second Omnic Crisis. Millions of people - both omnic and human - don't die in the next couple of years just 'cause Doomfist and Reaper have some kind of fascist hard-on for 'struggle.' Both sides of Talon lose a lot, and come out weaker."

"And all Overwatch does is... stay out of the way?" Winston asked.

"Pretty much. I'd be the intermediary, and ... I'd be involved, up close, and unexpected. Mostly to protect Em and Wids - but not just."

"There are reasons I kept you out of Blackwatch, Lena," Morrison said.

"Think I'm not suited for it, then?" she glared just a little, copper eyes glinting.

"Too well suited for it. It's corrosive. You saw what it did to Rayes."

"Someone from Overwatch has to see what happens, dad. Unless you just wanna take their word on it."

"Preventing another war has to come first," said Mei-Ling. "The data I have is all very bad. I do not think the ecosystem could handle another conflict like the last one! There is already so much damage, and everything is so unstable now... another war like the last one would push us over several different edges, the results would be catastrophic. Millions dead is far too low an estimate."

Angela nodded. "I have served as a wartime medic and surgeon in enough wars. If we could preempt one - particularly one so large as that..." She shook her head.

"Not to mention, with Talon busy, we could really go to work on Vishkar," added Lúcio, no longer in Brazil, but at the table, stopping by while on tour. "With an Architech on our side, pointing out where we should investigate - we could do a lot of real good while Talon's busy having their little showdown."

"It's almost too good." Hana frowned, skepticism in her voice. "If I saw this in a game, I'd be all 'ha ha no not fallin' for that, n00b.'"

Lena nodded. "Too right. We'd have to be on the lookout for some kinda betrayal at every point."

"Sure," the Korean replied. "But - we're missing something. And here you are, talking about working with" - she gestured at the smirking French Talon agent, who had the sense not to talk about her finest kills - "Mondatta's assassin..."

"I'm already sleeping with her, luv, this isn't a big step," Lena snipped, shifting the rifle on her back, just a little. She missed her new pistols already - but the Kiss being there helped.

"...and maybe she got better, okay, but you're siding up with the mad scientist who made her, and her crazy niece, all to pick a side in their civil war? I'm not the only one seeing bait here, am I?"

"No," said Morrison. "You're not."

"Not trying isn't an option, though," said Mei-Ling.

Oxton nodded, and sighed. "I'm not sayin' I don't see the possible traps. I do. At best, it's messy and it's awful, but I ... I know that Mondatta would want this war stopped. He'd care about how, it would matter, but most of all, he wouldn't want this war to happen."

"And we're not just going after both sides, because...?"

"Because that is probably the one thing that would force them to mend their fences," interjected the blue assassin. "They would go back to working together, rather than fighting each other."

"Nothin' creates alliances like a common enemy," added Lena.

"I still don't like it," said the Meka pilot. She turned to Dr. Ziegler. "I don't care what you think about her personally, doc, but as far as I can tell, Moira's a psychopath." She heard Lena snicker, to her right.

"I never said she wasn't," replied the Swiss woman. "Many psychopaths are personable, when they want to be."

"If she decides she wins by turning on us, she will," Song insisted.

"Absolutely," Lena agreed. "That'll have to be in every decision we make."

"It will be," insisted the soldier. "Assuming we're foolish enough to try this."

"We have to," insisted Dr. Zhou, again, before being interrupted by Lúcio, objecting, "I don't see how you can even think about working with her, after the way she grabbed you like that. No way I would."

"T'be honest, I'm scared of her. But... not even for a prize this big?"

Lúcio had to think about it, and didn't immediately answer.

"What if it would take down Vishkar?"

The DJ took a long, deep breath, and nodded, slowly once. "...yeah. Maybe."

"There y'go. That's why."

"We have to try," interjected Mei-Ling, again, with surprising vehemence. "Are none of you listening? If they are trying to start this war, if that is Doomfist and Reaper's plan, we have to try. We also have to tell every agency who will listen to us, so they can work against it as well."

Winston nodded, but Morrison and Song started to protest, but Dr. Zhou raised her voice over them, "Did you not hear me? The biosphere cannot take another Omnic war! Look, I have made projections." She threw a set of charts and graphs up over the centre of the conference table. "Carbon stability is only the start of it. Do you think the megastorms of 30 years ago were bad? I have been preparing a paper with the data collected while I was in cryogenic suspension. Imagine one covering half a hemisphere!"

She flipped another set of graphics up. "Now imagine 62-plus degree weather across North Africa, and 65-plus degrees in South Asia."

Another set. "Now imagine the oceans - barely recovering now - essentially devoid of life. There would be no recovery path."

Another set. "Here are agricultural projections. Ignoring war dead, we can project global crop collapses and multiple pandemics resulting from malnutrition and other knock-on effects. This projection - I would expect two to three billion dead. With extremely aggressive use of genetic modifications on a yearly basis, in a best-case scenario, we might cut it to one billion. The first year."

The room had grown silent as the reams of data had shuffled past. "The paper on which these projections are based is going to Nature next month for peer review, but I am confident of my numbers. Do you understand, now? Another Omnic war kills civilisation. Maybe the entire planet. For anyone biological, this war would be a death sentence."

She turned back to the copper-eyed Overwatch agent. "I'm sorry, Lena - if this is what he is trying to do, then Akande must be stopped. If there is any chance, any chance at all, you must take it."

"I... had no idea it was so bad," Oxton managed, after a few seconds.

"It isn't, now, but... it would be."

Morrison flipped through smaller versions of the images on his padd. Hana Song did the same. "Wow," she said, after a few minutes. "Okay, I guess... we have to."

"I think we do," Winston agreed. "The rest of us can dedicate ourselves to analysis - and to other actions against the more militant anti-Omnic groups. This is too important for a single approach. Governmental intervention is critical, but it will take them weeks or months to respond."

Lena frowned. She'd won, but it didn't feel like winning, not at all, as the weight of the situation fell on to her shoulders. "Then, I guess... we're in. We're doin' this."

"I'm sorry," said her best friend, as Morrison and Song both nodded their reluctant but clear assent. "I'm very much afraid we are."

[blufeniix]

some questions about your dnd cleric, if you don't mind. she is a half elf, correct? has her issue cleared up yet? and if its not rude, could i ask what has happened during your campaign so far?

Diantha Alcyone ,or Dia, is indeed a half-elf! Trouble is, she doesn’t know which parent was what (her surname is not her parent’s surname, but given to her by the Head Mother of the orphanage she was raised in). She’s an orphan who was left in the City of Light, Illumina, and was brought up with basically the options of being a Cleric or a Paladin, and ended up becoming a Cleric. 

And sadly, no, her issue of “You have one month of not letting anyone know anything is wrong or else your head explodes” has not been cleared up, mostly because some things came up and we didn’t get a chance to pick up again until tonight (been a month, give or take). EDIT: This issue just got cleared up at last nights meet so!!! Yaaay!!

Oh man, what has happened during our campaign so far? Good golly ok, sit back kiddos, cause this is gonna be a DOOZY.

First, let’s get the setting behind everything, and with that the original cast. This is gonna be a bit of a summary of what our DM @herr-doctor gave us; one of our current players were not here for the beginning, and three dropped out earlier in. Which characters join and which leave will be mentioned.

Our campaign takes place on the continent of Erimead. It’s a solid chuck of land surrounded on all sides by a “mysterious” ocean (called such because not many cities or towns are built along the coasts, tales of ancient sea atrocities and what have you). 

In the center, give or take, is the capital of Whiteshadow, a bustling melting pot of culture and magic, ruled by kind and benelovent King Guillame Alanus and his family. Whiteshadow is named due to the enormous snow peaked mountain at it’s back, acting as a natural shield from attack from the North. 

South of Whiteshadow is the mining town of Kiellen, close to the Dawn Mountains and home of our two past characters Damron and Ranvir. It’s been a WHILE and I don’t recall what Damron and Ranvir were. Human Warlock and Ranger respectively I think? They were also cousins.

Just West of Kiellen is Vox, the last oasis before or after the Singed Sands, an unrelenting desert where if you aren’t killed by the heat or sands, there are plenty of critters to take care of that for you.

Now, to the East of Whiteshadow is the Winterlands, a vast forest of perpetual evergreen and frost, supposedly housing the entrance to the Elemental Plane of Frost.

Towards the Northern peak of Erimead lies the Widowed Plains, a vast expanse of grasslands and plains, home to nomadic tribes of orcs and barbarians who, as one would imagine, do a great deal of roaming and pillaging. In the North-eastern portion of the plains lays what used to be the prosperous town of Illumina, home of the College of Life and Light, culmination of hundreds of years of research into arcane healing. Illumina is Diantha’s home, and Jelani, our half-orc barbarian, once belonged to one of the wandering tribes of the Widowed Plains.

 It was Jelani’s tribe that destroyed Illumina and killed a great many, but when faced with a few of his fellows trying to make sport of a elderly woman who would be no challenge Jelani found he was annoyed and killed them. In return, his War Chief Gnoth decided to off Jelani and leave him for dead.

Jelani was lucky Diantha had stumbled upon him, returning from a trip to a near settlement. She witnessed him save the elderly woman (who was the ‘Mother’ of the orphanage she’d been raised in), and decided to save his life. After some talking and travelling, the two decided to join forces in the hunt for Gnoth to get revenge. They ended up becoming best friends along the way.

Our heros, for one reason or another, find themselves in the small settlement of Shale, a pseudo-ghost town with very few inhabitants left, and fewer amenities. 

The town used to be a lively settlement, one that exported various earthen materials like cobble, sandstone, and various amounts of metallic elements. Starting about a four months ago, various citizens would seemingly go missing in the night, leaving everything behind. Searches were held, but more and more citizens went missing. Now, after all the affairs, only a fraction of the townspeople remain, comprised of the sick and the elderly, by the time our heroes arrive.

And that’s basically where the campaign starts. The characters are Damron, Ranvir, Diantha, Jelani, a Dragonborn whose name I cannot recall and the read more is broken oops, and Ciaran (a Tiefling Rogue, whose story has not been revealed to us yet).

From here on is going to be a VERY ROUGH summary of our adventures, so bear with me as I type this out. One day I’ll get around to properly writing our little adventure in story form and sharing it.

Shale Arc

The group meets at a bar. Diantha is searching for her companion Jelani, Damron and Ranvir are traveling together taking odd jobs I believe, and honestly I’m not sure what Ciaran was doing at the time. Upon being approached by a man named Gary, the group agrees to go into the graveyard and to the crypt to place his mother’s ashes in the family tomb, because the place is currently overrun by zombies and other ghoulies. 

Everyone agrees for various reasons, and heads out. Upon getting underground Dragonborn is found and joins the party, unsure as to why he is there or how he got there. Finally reaching the end, the group finds three Necromancers performing a ritural and using a woman assumed taken from the town as a sacrifice (we were not able to save the woman oops). The mancers are killed and we place the urn with the ashes, then return to town for reward. We can’t find Gary so we go to his home and meet his cousin, who says he was out (meeting someone or something?).

Anyway, we get to the path outside town trying to find this guy, and a Man in a Cloak™ kills Gary and sends a undead Giant after us. Jelani shows up to help (and happily fights the giant as I recall) and Man in Cloak™ leaves after a mysterious warning.

Returning to Shale we inform Gary’s Cousin of Gary’s death and give him some money and some words of comfort before setting out. At this point I believe Ranvir and Dragonborn took their leave from the game due to personal reasons, and so the two were said to have gone off their separate ways from the party.

The party (now consisting of Dia, Jel, Ciaran, and Damron) decides to continue forward (for some reason we were headed to Whiteshadow??? I can’t recall why it’s been so long I think we were all pissed and curious about Man in Cloak ™ ?) and on the way we came to a tower. I don’t believe there was a door, and only one window way way up high. We had to fight some giant spider thing, and were teleported inside. Upon getting inside, we are greeted by an elderly man by the name of Grayden Longbeard (voiced by our DM in a very Sean Connery like voice).

Once everyone is convinced that Grayden is an ok guy, we have a chat, and Grayden tells us about how he has been in the tower for a few hundred or so years, just guarding it for some reason. He tells us that something is indeed wrong, and that we should meet with the King at Whiteshadow. He gives us each an item (Dia recieved a Silver Raven Statuette I recall), and a gold coin to help us through the forest, and we go about our way.

I think this is also when Damron’s player takes his leave, and Damron goes on his own way.

Halloween Special; The Haunted Manor!

SO Halloween came around, and our DM set up a special Halloween episode. On their journey to Whiteshadow it storms, and the party reluctantly decides to take shelter in a old manor. After a bit of exploring they find a couple doors with holes in them where some circle thing should be placed, and a book on a table. A bit of debate over their choices, and realization that Jelani’s muscles and axe couldn’t take down the door to get them out, and Dia opens the book, reading off the first chapter.

The party goes through a cycle of read a chapter, fight a beastie in a dream realm where they CAN die, wake up to have memories erased except for Dia’s, Dia cures them so they can remember, and repeat. Three chapters they go through like this and finally are at a party with many guests. But oddly, no human guests.

The butler warns them to be careful before leaving, and the party gets to watch everyone die from poison in the food and drinks. Going upstairs to finish this, they are met with the lord of the manor, a racist old bastard ghost, who was killed by his butler after killing all of his non-human guests, among other horrible things.

The party finishes the fight, Jelani dealing the finishing blow, and after collecting a few items (I don’t think anyone got anything important except Ciaran, who got Ghost Carver, a odd dagger that, upon dealing the finishing blow to an enemy, takes their soul) they make their leave, watching as the manor begins to burn.

Monty’s Quest Arc (Dia, Jel, and Ciaran)

Upon exiting the forest, the party can see Whiteshadow in the distance. We end up upon a little Imp named Scree who has been chained to a tree in the sunlight, and the poor little guy was left to burn and be tortured basically. With some talking from Ciaran and Dia, Jel pulls the chain from it’s secured place in the ground, effectively freeing Scree. Scree thanks us and takes his leave, gifting Jelani with a stone that is engraved with some letter in Abyssal I think?

After freeing the critter we chase off the asses who put him there, a couple of dudes from Whiteshadow. They decide getting to work on time is more important than fighting us and head off. The party enters the city of Whiteshadow.

The party makes it’s way to the castle to meet with the King, but lo-and-behold, the guards outside the gate are none other than the dicks who chained up poor lil Scree.

It takes a minute of talking, but both parties walk away, deciding a fight in the city isn’t worth it. A man in a cloak approaches us (note it’s not Man in Cloak™), and gives us a card to a place called Monty’s Magnificent Marvels or something along those lines, saying that he can help. (spoilers it’s Monty who gave us the card)

The party head’s to Monty’s and is greeted by a rather… what’s the word, unique individual. Monty is a hoot, full of energy and sass. He says that he can get us in to meet the King, as he is one of the Kings aids and best friend, but for a price. We have to retrieve a Scrying Stone. The stone was sealed deep in some cave system by his Father or Grandfather or something, and he really needs us to get it for him, so we agree and he gives us a orb to use when we’ve found it for him to poof us back to him.

We’re sent into the cave system and wander for a bit before fighting some monster crustation thing (Chuul I think?). After that we wander a bit more, and end up being put to sleep by some Drow (Dia had to be put to sleep some other way than Jel or Ciaran b/c of her elven ancestery but I can’t remember h o w).

Que next meet party wakes up and WHOOPSIE we’re chained up in a dark room and seperated. Jel is at one end, and Ciaran and Dia are at another. Jel is set loose by Scree who shows up thanks to the stone he gave Jel, and after freeing us Scree brings us a few of our items. We fight with the Drow and discover that a burn on Jelani’s arm indicates that he’s been marked to be sold into slavery. Jel demands to know and is rightfully pissed, and thankfully Dia is able to heal the scar completely.

Lots of fighting Drow and Spider-Drow later, and we get to the end of the cave system and meet a friendly little Beholder who was made by Monty’s ancestor to guard the stone. Only, he’s never been inside the building housing the stone behind him, so after a quick talk he lets us in and we discover UH-OH no stone. And some stone creature just kinda. Chillin in the corner? Weird.

Oh and there is a hole in the back of the building leading further down.

After Ciaran and Dia (let’s be honest mostly Ciaran, after the scare with Jelani Dia is Not Herself) talk the poor little beholder down since he thinks he’ll just cease to be, we give him a new mission to keep him alive and! Off he goes!! Explore the world little dude, stay safe!!

After giving the stone creature a bit of gold it gives us one of it’s teeth, and then we go down the tunnel and find some icky fish people who are worshipping some shrine to an evil god. (this SCENE. The ROGUE ROLLS LOW ON STEALTH. THE 4 FOOT 11 HALF ELF FAILS STEALTH. No, no, Jelani, the 8 foot tall half-orc barbarian rolls a Nat 20 on a Stealth Check.).

Dia exhausts herself using a Hold Person on Fish Priest for the full fucking fight, as well as buffing Ciaran and Jel (I ended up using two concentration spells at the same time because none of us…actually realized I was doing it?? oop. DM let it slide tho, and I’ve decided that should it ever come up again Dia will be ‘punished’ with a sort of sickness? She is almost motion-sick and just rough off until she gets a chance to rest), and after getting back the orb we are ported to safety.

Dia almost punches Monty, but the two civilly sort things out (and are p good friends now tbh), and Monty gives the party a card to get us into the castle free and clear! As well as a discount at the shop and payment for our trouble.

Saving the King’s Family Arc

FINALLY getting into the castle to meet the King, the party is faced with a new threat. Enter CSI:VoC, as the party NOW has to look over the rooms of the King, his wife, and their children, to look for clues as to who could have kidnapped the Queen and the children, and where they could have gone.

Jelani mostly stands off to the side observing at this point, while Ciaran and Diantha pass ideas and clues back and forth and manage to figure some stuff out. A monk and a thief/rogue of some type broke in, assumed in the dead of night, and took the Queen and Children some how. With a little asking about we figure out about a location of thieves just outside Whiteshadow, and the party sets out to investigate.

Upon arriving at the location (a single building with a short stone wall surrounding it) late in the night, they notice off the bat that something is a bit odd. The yard has a handful of men patrolling around it. Party decides to stealth around, and Jelani is spotted. He hangs back and plays it off that he’s just some guy wandering around, and manages to get away from the men after talking them down (rather threateningly if I recall).

Diantha and Ciaran make it inside the building, and Dia takes this chance to put her new Raven to the test. She gives it a name (we all decided on Poe since I wasn’t informed I would need a name and command for it before hand), and gives it a message to give Jelani, and a command to lead him back to them.

The party finds two men in cloaks in the top floor, and after knocking them out, Ciaran momentarily gets her hand caught in a Mimic Chest. Sorting that out, the party wakes one of the men and questions him (Dia and Jel fall back on their merc habits), and don’t get a great deal out of him before realizing that (some how *jazz hands*) the other man has crawled away after being right behind them.

Party follows the blood trail he left down into the basement, and has a fight with a Elven Monk, a large Barbarian (goliath I think?), and a couple little dudes. The party cleans up house, and then begins the search for the Queen and the children. Discovering a staircase that leads them further down, they find the children safe and sound, though obviously very frightened. They talk a bit, and after finding out that the Queen has been brainwashed and sent back to Whiteshadow, end up having to rush out with the kids and the one thief from upstairs because WOOPS somehow the building is now burning from the inside.

Everyone makes it out safe, and (Look I’m still pissed over this, I am NEVER FORGIVING DM FOR THIS) Dia sends Poe with a message to beware the Queen ahead of them to Whiteshadow; Poe can mimic her voice and essentially ‘replay’ any message she gives him in her voice. The party travels and OH GOSH WELL POE IS JUST SITTING OUTSIDE (look I’m fuckin BITTER OVER THIS).

The party gets in just in time to get all the civvies outside as the Queen stabs her husband, and then comes to long enough to cut her own throat over the guilt. Diantha uses a healing spell on the King, and with his crown as payment uses a high level revival spell on the Queen (or maybe it was another healing spell??? I can’t recall I like to forget this day tbh) and saves them both.

And that’s how the party of outcasts became the heros of Whiteshadow!

Cthulu Fish Village Arc

Now, you’d think after saving the King and Queen of the Captial City would get you a break from your hero duties, but nah. Following this, the King asks the party to travel to a village and locate the Royal Scholar, who has not contacted them since she headed out to investigate a fishing village.

The party agrees and heads out to the village, which is a good week or so trip even by horse. They make a pit stop in a small town inn, and when they wake up WHOOP Sarenrae (Diantha’s Deity) decided to pick them all up and drop them off in a random building in the fishing village SO thanks for that miss Goddess ma’am RUDE.

The group goes through the town, avoiding most of the fishmen and fighting the ones they couldn’t and making it to the town jail where the Royal Scholar was kept, and a Great White Shark Man Sheriff slept. Ciaran tried to stealth up and steal the keys, but the Shark Sheriff noticed her (he had super high natrual perception I think?) and the fight started. Ciaran nearly got bit in half, but the party beat Shark Sheriff and freed the Scholar who introduced herself (telepathically) as Jadine.

Ciaran gets a crush, and Jadine informs them that there are Bad Things™ goin down, and request’s their help to take care of it. They agree, and the party follows Jadine down below the village to the source of everything; an ancient evil god, very large and very mean, with a couple evil fish men with it.

The party fight it, and Diantha deals the finishing blow, for it’s obvious intent to not repent for it’s crimes, banishing it back to it’s realm.

With that taken care of, the party returns to Whiteshadow with Jadine.

Hunting the War Chief Arc

One thing after another with the party, Jadine tells them of three incidents that need to be investigated. Firstly, a group of barbarians roaming the plains destroying towns and settlements, a forest mysteriously burning and tales of a monster, and an ancient relic.

The mention of the barbarian group, led by a Orc who appears engulfed in flames, catches the attention of Jelani and Diantha, and there is little discussion had before they decide they want to check it out first. Ciaran agrees, having little care where they go either way. Before they leave, Jadine gives Jelani a small red stone, and Ciaran a glossary of monsters (can I google that?). I can’t… recall if or what Diantha received.

And so, once again, the party heads out to the plains. They stop by a settlement first, but it is barricaded and they claim that if the party wants to come in then they’ll have to take the long way around. They agree, and the party passes through the ruins of another town on the way there. Ciaran, who is able to see the ghosts of everyone there thanks to Ghost Carver, swipes a magic lute from one of the homes. In the forest outside the town, late in the night, the party is approached by a priest from the town that was destroyed.

He asks for aid, and Diantha heals his injuries as best she can, and after giving him some food, he goes on his way to the town, to try and put the spirits of those still lost to rest.

The party continues on and come upon another settlement, clearly recently attacked by the barbarians. After a bit of talking they get the people to understand that they are there to help, and begin with the repairs and healing, while trying to plan what they will do when Gnoth and his barbarians return.

During the night, Jelani is dragged away by some kind of wolf-man creature, and ends up ‘killing’ it; but not before it bites him. Ciaran and Diantha wake, and when Dia notices Jel missing she takes off trying to track him, sending Poe to the air to find him. The three met back up and Jel tells them about the monster he killed, but when they get to the spot the body is gone.

Returning to the settlement, the party go back to resting, and the next day they have a choice to make. Do they go on ahead and meet with Gnoth, or do they wait for him to come to them?

With some argument from Ciaran, and Jelani and Diantha explaining their thoughts as best they can, the party decides to continue on ahead to the near city where seemingly nothing has happened. Diantha and Jelani are sure Gnoth has set up some sort of base there, while Ciaran thinks they should have waited to defend the settlement.

The party makes it to the city, and upon entering are met with a bustling crowd; something no one expected considering the whole ‘Barbarians pillaging everything’ going on.

The three got separated by the crowd momentarily, and someone approached Jelani and slipped something in his hand, telling him that he ‘dropped his pouch’ and carried on. Jelani put the pouch in his pocket and Diantha and Ciaran got back to him. Diantha noted the pouch as she approached, knowing full well that it wasn’t Jelani’s, but the half-orc insisted that it WAS his. Ciaran picked it from his pocket while he argued with Diantha, who got Jelani to see reason, and opened it, revealing three stones (ruby, emerald, and sapphire). Sure that they were stolen and that someone was trying to pin it on them, Ciaran insisted that they get rid of them.

Before they could, however, they were met with challengers; men bearing war paint, in markings Jelani and Diantha noted were the same as the ones worn by the lower ranking members of Gnoth’s tribe. They fought, and took one of the men back to a inn to question him (the barkeep was very understanding).

While questioning him, Ciaran used an alchemy jug (I think she got from Grayden?) to make acid to torture him. Before he could give much of anything, something thudded against the door. A note, handwriting Jelani recognized as Gnoths. The message told the party where to go if they wanted to face Gnoth.

Jelani runs out the door, looking for whoever left the note, Ciaran helping him, but to no avail. Diantha draws her magic necrotic blade Wounding, and offers the man one chance to repent. He cuts his throat on the blade.

Before leaving, Ciaran decides they should just toss the stones that Jelani was slipped into the jug of acid. Diantha tries to protest, but Ciaran just. Tosses them in.

Nothing happens.

The party ditches the corpse and leaves, following the route that Gnoth specified. On the way they find a cave, and do battle with Dwarves and a Giant who are holding a few women from the various settlements around the plains hostage.

During the battle, Ciaran’s knife Ghost Carver does something odd. The gem on the hilt cracks, and a strange black mass emerges from the cracks and stabs her arms. And then nothing. Jel and Dia do not see this. The party defeats the hostage takers and free the women, then continue on their way to Gnoth..

Gnoth was in the plains where he said he would be, at his side his Second, a Orc Druid by the name of Dura.

Jelani wasted no time in charging Gnoth, knowing he would need to get in the first blow if he stood a chance. Diantha and Ciaran kept their distance and the battle that followed was intense, and eventually became very one sided. Jelani couldn’t stay up and Diantha couldn’t heal him enough. Oh, and Ciaran got polymorphed into a cat by Dura.

Jelani died. At Diantha’s side, Jelani died, and for a moment Diantha died with him.

And then a red light shone from Diantha’s pocket, and there was the sound of something cracking. Diantha pulled the red stone Jel received from Jadine from her pocket, unsure as to how or when it got there.

And then Jelani lived again.

The fight started back again, and finally both Gnoth and Dura died, and Ciaran was released from Dura’s spell. Behind the large stones that Dura and Gnoth had once stood on was a Winter Wolf that was chained to a tree, assumed the companion of one of the Orcs.

Ciaran approached it quickly, Diantha and Jelani taking a moment to themselves. The wolf bit at Ciaran, and she got the other two to help her get the wolf loose. After checking the bodies of Gnoth and Dura, the wolf decided it would stay with Jelani. Ciaran was a touch jealous.

With that complete, the party returned to Whiteshadow.

The Burning Forest Arc

The party returns to Whiteshadow and speaks to Jadine and the King, and are rewarded with a key to a Keep in the city that is for their use when they aren’t travelling, and after Diantha goes to see Monty (with the rest of the party in tow). Monty is drunk, claiming to have been ‘celebrating the trios safe return’. Dia light heartedly scolds him, and thanks him before they have to head out to their next mission.

Once again the party is given no time to properly rest up, having to head back out again to a remote town with a forest that has, apparently without reason, burned.

The party arrives and questions the villagers, learning about a rumor of a monster- possibly a dragon- living deep in the forest. They also learn about another group of adventurers that have asked about the forest, and ventured out. The party is suspicious, and follows their path to the edge of the forest, keeping an eye out as they venture through the burned, ashen woods. They see no sign of the other party.

And then they come to the center, and find a girl. Suspicious, Diantha approches first, and begins talking to her, learning her name is Mara. Once Diantha is comfortable that all is well, she let’s Mara know about her friends, and then motions them to come forward.

And then the other party appears, and reveals that they are looking for Mara, though they don’t answer as to why. Ciaran and Jelani essentially take care of them, Diantha needing to only stay by Mara and keep her safe. She does cast Hold Person on one and they capture him. They learn very little, and decide to take Mara back to Whiteshadow with them.

On the way out of the forest, the party is attacked by two basiliks, and Diantha is paralyzed and then turned to stone. Ciaran and Jelani defeat the creatures, but are left unsure of how to help Diantha.

And then a woman appears; tall, elven, with ashen skin and long white hair. She cures Diantha (”You poor dear..”), and then gives the party a item, a warning of the town ahead, and takes Mara with her through a portal.

The party returns to the town, the man in tow, and get him put in a jail cell, and then take their leave. They camp out during the night, and when they wake the town is oddly quiet. They return to check, and find everyone dead, brutally killed.

In the jail cell, the man is blown, seemingly from the inside out, and a bloody sigil is drawn on the wall. A hand with an eye in the center.

They return to Whiteshadow quickly, Diantha wanting to speak with Jadine about the event.

The Ivory City Arc

At this point in time our newest member joined us, playing the Halfling Scholar and Arcane user Elowen.

The party returns to Whiteshadow, and fills Jadine in on what happened. It is then they are introduced to Jadine’s friend, a halfling scholar named Elowen. In order to complete the next task, the party has to travel to another city, part to learn about Vecna, part to find a Holy Item, and part to help Elowen learn about something herself. The party heads out with their newest member after getting a few drinks.

It takes around a week for the party to arrive at the city, and when they do they find that the city is quarantined, due to an illness that has been affecting the arcane users of the city. They manage to talk their way in (a bit of Dia making sense, a bit of Elowen sarcasm, and a bit of Ciaran and Jelani Sass/Threats combo), and head to the library.

They are locked out, and told that unless they can figure out what is causing the illness that is affecting a great many of the arcane users there, they will not open the doors for anyone.

Angry and tired, the group heads to the light house after learning that the source of a smog that is probably linked with the illness is coming from underground, and the light house probably has a link to an old sewer system under the city.

They venture down, leaving Jel’s wolf Hak at the surface (he’s plenty capable of caring for himself for a few days), and find a odd shimmering pool with a couple chests in them off the bat. Before anyone can question it, Ciaran hops in and begins wading through to the chests. She gets halfway before she slows, realizing the pool is actually a slime monster and she is it’s next meal.

Elowen banishes the slime to another dimension for a minute, freeing Ciaran (who checks the chests) and then gets out. She has aged a bit, but Diantha is able to reverse the damage done with a Greater Resto, and they carry on.

The group comes to a city. An underground city, that looks like it is made entirely of bone. Upon entering they have a few short chats with some locals and learn it is a ‘Dead City’ called “The Ivory City”. Dia is quick to cover her head with her cloak. Told to speak with the King, the party ventures through the city and finds a old temple of Sarenrae, and upon entering find a white and gold tome. Diantha takes it, and the party finds a few pages torn out around the  main room, before leaving to the palace.

The King of the Ivory City, Selat, greets the party ‘warmly’, and suggests that if they want him to help with their problem, they should help him with his. A Red Scourge is taking his gold, and he wants them stopped. He introduces his Jester, a bard named Symund (Ivory Symund he calls him) and says that Symund will be their guide through the underground to the Red Scourges domain.

Diantha agrees, shaking the finger (literally this guy is HUGE) of Selat, and gets a spell cast on her. A black ring around her right middle finger. Selat tells her it is so she will keep up her end of the deal.

The party travels a few days, fighting a few various creatures and learning about Symund. That he was an adventerer with a party 15 years prior, but that they were stopped by Selat; Symund kept as a play thing, his Paladin friend left to wander half crazy in a maze, and his other party members killed.

The party finds the Red Sourge, a group of goblins painted red, and a Red Dragon. The party fights and kills them all with the help of Symund, and finds Selat’s gold. Cursed Gold. Anything that touches it is swallowed up, consumed by Greed. Symund finds a scroll, but keeps it to himself, and upon being asked promises the group that it is a key to defeating Selat and getting them out. Promises that it isn’t a self sacrificing plan.

The night before they arrive, Symund pulls Dia away from the group and reveals that he can free her from Selats hold, and uses an experimental spell to remove her ring, and place it on his finger with his own ring. He says that it is part of his plan, and to trust him. To make sure the she gets the rest of the party out when the time comes.

Diantha agrees.

The party makes their way back, and confronts Selat, who reveals (Shockingly) that he never planned on letting them go. He agrees to let Elowen, Ciaran, and Jelani leave, and stops the smog from forming, thanks to Symunds smooth talking, and says he wants to keep Diantha as another of his toys with Symund.

Symund strikes, using the scroll he found and trapping Selat. The party does not know what exactly happened to Symund, as he forces them to leave the palace with Mage Hand, and then Diantha gets the party to flee with her.

Elowen is broken-hearted and furious, but they get out.

The party gets to the library, finally able to check it out. Diantha and Elowen stay at the library and research, learning about Vecna and a Maester, Jelani walks the city with Hak, and Ciaran finds the nearest bar and gets smashed.

When everyone is settled they find Ciaran at the bar, and the barkeep gives them a room and some drinks.

The next day, Elowen and Ciaran manage to find enough to know that Symund is ok, but no more than that. They all decide to return to Whiteshadow, emotionally and physically drained.

The Winter Festival Arc (current arc; Name may change??)

The party returns to Whiteshadow after a week of traveling, just as tired as they were a week before. But the city has changed, and during the time they were away the seasons are shifting; winter has arrived, and thus Whiteshadow is preparing for their Winter Festival!

The party meets Monty as they make their way to see the King and Jadine, and have a quick talk with him, learning about the Festival, and an upcoming ball that the party is of course invited to. They say they’ll think about it (spoilers they’re going anyway), and Diantha, Jelani, and Ciaran go to meet with the King and Jadine, while Elowen decides she wants to look about the Festival.

Elowen is approached by an old man (Grayden!!) and he asks if she has seen (the trio) about.

Before Dia, Jel and Ciaran can get to the King or Jadine, the entire city is frozen over in an instant. Elowen and Grayden included.

The trio return outside, and encounter a pale blue woman wandering the crowd looking rather distressed. She is surprised to see them free from the ice, claiming they are ‘touched by fire’ and asks for their aid. She introduces herself as Boreal, and explains that her queen is fighting with another Fey, and is losing. Her people are dying, their lives and power connected to their queen, and so the ice realm is freaking out and freezing over things it shouldn’t.

The party asks Boreal if she can release Elowen and Grayden from the ice. She only succeeds in freeing Elowen, claiming she is too weak to get them both. Saying it’s ok, Diantha agrees to help Boreal.

Boreal takes the party through a portal, and they are separated; Diantha in a room with Boreal, and Ciaran, Jelani, and Elowen each in a different place.

From their, Boreal has Diantha watch over everyone through three portals, while Ciaran, Jelani, and Elowen each perform a task for Boreal to help lower the power of the enemy army.

The tasks essentially go off without a hitch, and Ciaran, Jel, and Elowen each go through a portal to take them back to Whiteshadow. Diantha is releaved, but Boreals attitude suddenly shifts, and a rush of images Diantha isn’t familiar with rushes through her mind.

She realizes that it’s the party, performing the before tasks, but the scenery is VERY different.

Ciaran destroyed a shrine to the God of the Hunt. Elowen killed a city of Fire Elementals. Jelani killed the Father of Giants.

Diantha is in shock, and before she can properly react Boreal casts a Guias charm on her, preventing Diantha from saying or letting on about anything that has happened for a month. If Diantha ever does try to force her way through it, then she will die. Boreal says that it is because she hates Diantha; that she has her fathers eyes. Diantha is confused by this, but before she can ask Boreal sends her back to Whiteshadow.

The party meets up, and Diantha acts as if all is fine.

From there, they head back into Whiteshadow and decide that since everything is done for now, they’ll wander the festival and go to the ball. To prepare they all do a bit of shopping, and while Elowen waits on everything to be touched up, Diantha, Jel, and Ciaran finally go to talk with the King and Jadine.

They speak with the King, and he offers them a more permanent position; The Kings Shadows, a title that has not been used in many years. The party agrees (Jelani the least enthusiasically), and are given medallions that have an old magic on them, and allow them to communicate with each other even at great distances.

From there the party goes to Jadine and shares what intel they learned, and in turn learn that things are far more dire than what they originally seemed.

Agreeing to continue doing what needed to be done, Jadine sends the party away to prepare for the evening ball. Everyone needs a break sometime right?

The party attends the ball, pretty much doing their own thing; Ciaran at the food table keeping away from people, Elowen helping Jadine keep from having to talk to everyone, and Jel and Dia off at the side observing the party.

Diantha takes the quiet moment to ask Jelani what he plans to do. Five years prior to the start of the campaign they made their agreement to find Gnoth and get their revenge, and they’ve done that now. Jelani replies that sometimes things change, and when asked if he’ll stay, he replies that ‘Until every star in the universe dies’. It’s one of Jelani’s rare softer moments, one that is quickly ended by a drunken Monty approaching them.

After a bit of drunken babble, and more lighthearted scolding from Diantha, Monty asks Dia to dance and leads her to the center of the dance floor, deep into the crowd.

A few minutes after, Monty seems perfectly sober, and Diantha is confused by this sudden change. Monty looks… odd, not his usual cheery self, and he mentions that Diantha’s eyes have changed, that she looks burdened. Claims that she needs a vacation, to Riven, get some fresh air and a break. Diantha jokes that the lack of a vacation is a bit of what she signed up for, and he says that vacations are a bit different for everyone. 

He pulls her close, and leans down so he can whisper for her to ‘take this’ to Riven, and meet a friend of his.

He slips her an item, and then leaves her on the dance floor.

Diantha finds a golden dragon scale in her hand.

The party goes on late into the night, and after Ciaran follows Monty to his home to question him, getting little to no info, and then getting caught by Diantha sneaking back into the party (and NOT talking to her shame shame), the party returns to the Keep for a night’s rest. Before sleeping Diantha confronts Ciaran, and reveals the Gold scale Monty gave her. They talk about Monty’s odd behavior, and agree to see him in the morning and decide on whether they’ll go to Riven or not.

They all have dreams that night, some remembering more than others, and wake up the next day concerned; Jelani has a black hand-print on his torso, Elowen has a red chain ‘tattoo’ on her wrist, and Ciaran finds a 2-foot feather at the foot of her bed. Diantha has repeated nightmares of what they helped Boreal do, refreshing the situation in her mind.

The party discusses their findings, and goes to meet Monty, who they find has left already, claiming to be on a trip, and that he’ll return when he returns.

The party goes to ask the King, who doesn’t know where he is, and from there they begin their trip to Riven, which is only 2 days away. A quick trip by horse compared to most of their other trips.

The party arrives at Riven, and heads to the Riven Geological Institute, meeting Ash, a Gnome who works there. They speak with him, learning a bit about the place, but before they can get to the heart of the matter there is a loud commotion from the streets. 

A group of men are handling a dwarf woman roughly, holding her in the air. Ciaran, who can read lips, sees one, asking about ‘A Dragon’, but before they can find out any more the party winds up in a battle with them. The men talk about ‘Keeping the blue one alive” but the others can die. They tell Diantha that she can leave, they have no bounty for her, to which Diantha replies ‘Like hell!”.

The Bounty Hunters it’s revealed essentially… kill themselves. Using odd weapons (spoilers; it’s guns. experimental guns), they try shooting the party, but the guns end up misfiring 98% of the time and blow up on their users. Part of the street catches fire because of one of the guns blowing up and in turn causing some barrels with oil to blow and burn, but Diantha and Elowen take care of the fire.

The part catches one of the men, but he knows minimal. The group of hunters got their posters, happened upon them. Ciaran was the only one wanted alive, to be put on trial for ‘crimes’. Diantha knows, but cannot let on she knows.

The man is taken by the guards, and Ash approaches the party and thanks them for their help. They talk a bit more, and return to their previous conversation; why their here, and about the gold dragon scale that is decroating a great many things in Riven.

Diantha shows him the scale that Monty gave her, and Ash takes them to a secret place.

There, in a deep cave connected by some sort of magic door, they meet Lav, who… reminds them a great deal of Monty? And behind him, in a large cavern unseen by the party save for it’s breath, his master, a Gold Dragon.

When asked, Diantha tells Lav that Monty sent her, and this rings a bell with Lav. He offers his hand to Diantha, who takes his hand. He kisses her knuckles, and after a moment she notices an odd sensation.

She can actively think about what happened with Boreal. Lav smiles knowingly, and before anyone can ask Dianthas legs give out from under her and she falls.

Jelani rushes to her, Elowen close behind, and Ciaran is ready to fight Lav. Diantha finally explains that it’s fine, and after hugging Jelani and apologizing profusely, she explains to the party what really happened when they helped Boreal, and why the men from before had bounties for them.

Lav explains that (since Diantha shared a good bit of information) that the woman they described is named Auril, a Arch Fey and ruler of an Ice realm. He gives them a scroll that will help them open the door, but they have to find a way into the Fey realm themselves.

Elowen asks about Diantha’s father, and tho Lav can’t tell them who he is, he tells them that they should check the Fey; after all, he can tell (somehow?) that Diantha was born there. Jelani inquires about the Storm Ruler he’s dreamed of, and Ciaran inquires about Monty’s odd behaviour.

And that’s where tonight’s session ended! Remember, this is a basic skeleton of everything and there’s lots of details left out b/c I can’t… really recall everything, and I’ll do my best to keep up from here on out so you guys can follow our adventure too!

Holy wow we’ve been through a lot, and it’s been a really fun thing over all! If any of you ever get the chance to try out playing a DnD campaign, I highly recommend it; you don’t have to make it strict by the rules, just have fun and create a story with each other!

[themeatlife]

Avengers: Endgame, the Legacy of the Avengers, and the Future of Disney and the Marvel Cinematic Universe

#DontSpoilTheEndgame is over on Monday, so I’ll discuss Avengers: Endgame - the movie itself and the larger impact it has on the legacy of the Avengers and the MCU.

Avengers: Endgame - A Review

To begin, it’s kind of hard to judge the film on its own. Even more so than its predecessor Avengers: Infinity War, Endgame is largely dependent on the previous films. So the impact of it is less so on someone that’s only seen a handful of the Marvel movies than for someone who has invested time seeing the now 22-film catalog.  With that being said, for those who have seen most or all of the other movies, wow. It is both extremely entertaining and extremely gratifying.  If you are an MCU fan, Endgame was made especially for you.

Now, SPOILERS AHEAD!

I’m not going to explore all the plot points (because there is a LOT of plot), I want to hit on some of the major ones though.

Much of the first two hours of the film (this thing has a three hour run time) is spent in the melancholy post-Snapture.  The opening scene is Jeremy Renner’s Hawkeye with his family as they disappear from Thanos’ snap.  Just in case you forgot the stakes that were established in Infinity War, well this will certainly remind you.  We see our heroes trying to deal with loss and trying to move on in the aftermath.  I like this touch.  Throughout the MCU, the writers and directors have always tried to a least have a sort of psychological realism, always visiting not only the epic battles but the emotional aftermath.  To reenforce this, next we see Robert Downey Jr’s Iron Man and Karen Gillan’s Nebula stranded in space running out of resources to get to Earth (much of this featured heavily in the trailer). It looks hopeless until Brie Larson’s Captain Marvel rescues them and reunites them with the surviving Avengers at Avengers HQ in upstate New York. She doesn’t really have much of a role in the film outside of this and the some of the final sequences.

After hunting down and killing Thanos in the first 20 minutes of the film (Thor goes for the head this time), time jumps to five years later.  Earth’s mightiest heroes go on what Paul Rudd’s Ant-Man calls a “time heist,” a quest to use the quantum realm go to the past to collect the Infinity Stones.  Ant-Man’s return from the quantum realm having only aged 5 hours rather than 5 years spurs this. Not to change the past and prevent Josh Brolin’s Thanos from the Snapture, but to bring everyone back that was lost by the Snap, mainly because Stark now has a family with Gwyneth Paltrow’s Pepper Potts and a little daughter he doesn’t want to lose.

The time heist features three teams: Iron Man, Ant-Man, Chris Evans’ Captain America, and Mark Ruffalo’s now hybrid Bruce Banner/Hulk going back to 2012 during the Battle of New York in the first Avengers movie to retrieve the Space, Mind, and Time Stones.  Chris Hemsworth’s now broken and depressed and overweight Thor and Bradley Cooper’s Rocket Raccoon going back to Asgard in 2013 during the events of Thor: The Dark World to retrieve the Reality Stone.  And Don Cheadle’s War Machine, Nebula, Jeremy Renner’s Hawkeye/Ronin, and Scarlett Johansson’s Black Widow going back to Morag/Vormir in 2014 during the time of the first Guardians of the Galaxy with War Machine and Nebula tracking down the Power Stone and Hawkeye and Black Widow tracking down the Soul Stone.  Highlights from these ventures include Captain America fighting his 2012 self, Thor interacting with his mother on the day of her death, and Hawkeye and Black Widow’s dramatic fight for who will sacrifice their life so the other can get the Soul Stone.  We also get a bonus time jump back to 1970 with Iron Man and Captain America. (My gosh, so much plot here, and that’s not even all of it. No wonder this thing is three hours long.)

While I won’t dive too deeply on what happens, what this part of the movie effectively does is show just how far back the arc of the original six (Stark, Rogers, Thor, Banner, Barton, and Romanoff) goes and how far they have come.  We also get to see how focused 2014 Thanos was at achieving his Snapture goal even back then.  And it’s a good excuse for Marvel to revisit some of the places they have been, kind of like a Greatest Hits album (although I wouldn’t consider The Dark World one of those hits, I would consider it a flex by Disney/Marvel to make one of their lesser movies that important in the long term story).

And then the last hour of the film is all kinds of crazy action, and the results are satisfying and enjoyable. 2014 Thanos gets onto the Avengers plan and sends 2014 Nebula to replace 2023 Nebula to go back to the future (OH I forgot to mention there were a lot of Back to the Future and other time travel movie jokes). So 2014 Nebula opens up the quantum realm portal to 2014 Thanos. That Thanos takes out the Avengers HQ right after the Hulk snaps his finger with the new Stark-made Infinity Gauntlet. There is then a showdown between Captain America, Thor, and Iron Man against Thanos, after which sets up an epic splash-page like final battle between Thanos’ Chitari army and the recently resurrected rest of the Avengers crew. Highlights in this part include a psyched Thor when Captain America not only lifts up Thor’s hammer Mjolnir but summons it and wields it’s power and a touching brief reunion between Tom Holland’s Spider-Man and Iron Man. The battle ends with Tony Stark swiping the Infinity Gauntlet back from Thanos and snapping Thanos and his army out of existence.

This concludes the Tony Stark character arc, for the snap was too much to bare and ultimately kills him. But not before Peter Parker and an Iron-suited Pepper Potts say their goodbyes (Potts with the emotional “now you can rest” line). There is a somber funeral sequence with all the major Marvel characters that are still alive making an appearance, along with a big surprise.

After the funeral, we also see the conclusion of the Steve Rogers story arc. Hulk sends Rogers back in time to return the Infinity Stones back from where they grabbed them. He doesn’t return when Hulk tries to summon him back but Anthony Mackie’s Falcon and Sebastian Stan’s Winter Soldier notice someone sitting on a bench in the distance. It’s old Steve Rogers, who ended up settling down in the past after returning the stones. He hands off the Captain America shield to Sam.

The movie ends with Steve Rogers sometime in the 1940’s in a new house finally having that dance with Hayley Atwell’s Peggy Carter.

Rather than a credits scene, the opening of the credits showcases each Marvel hero over the years with the actor who played them and ends the sequence with the original six Avengers with the actors’ signatures displayed on screen. Cool way to salute the actors in some of the major roles over the years.

Other than a couple of time travel issues (time travel is ALWAYS tricky to pull off in movies and television and maybe some other time I’ll go over those), the storyline works very well. I dug the balance it struck between the emotional weight, action, and humor. It was smart to have a lot of small moments early in the film where it focuses the interaction between characters. And it was a lot funnier than I expected it to be. The film as a whole is emotionally gratifying and clearly wraps up this chapter in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But as I said earlier, it is at max effectiveness if you’ve already invested the time in the characters’ previous stories, in particular the original six. If you know the original six’s stories in particular, you will thoroughly enjoy this movie.

I’ll save my ranking the Infinity Saga movies for after Spider-Man: Far From Home (Marvel President Kevin Feige calls the latest Spider-Man the final installment in the Infinity Saga). You can expect that Endgame would rank very highly in my ranking.

The Legacy of the Avengers

What is the biggest impact the Avengers and Marvel’s Infinity Saga have had on pop culture?

It is crazy to think that when Iron Man came out back in May of 2008 when Marvel Studios was using Paramount to distribute, it was considered a risk. Robert Downey Jr had yet to make his comeback complete (Iron Man and Sherlock Holmes a year later marked his return full return to stardom). Iron Man was a few months before The Dark Knight came out and garnered critical acclaim and helped legitimize the comic book-based genre. And the MCU was in its infancy, no one thought it would become the bohemeth it is now.

Marvel Studios, whether intentional or accidental, helped mold and was molded by the changing methods of which people were consuming their visual entertainment. The early 2000’s saw the advent of binge-watching television, where serial series like Alias, 24, and Lost saw people prefer to consume episodes in bulk. Once Netflix got their streaming service going, the idea of binge-watching caught on everywhere. Television ratings waned as people watched things more on their time on devices other than an actual TV. People only tuned in to things when they are originally broadcast if they were billed as an event, like a series finale (or in Game of Thrones’ case a final season) or a live event like the Super Bowl. Similarly, film started becoming more event-based. Blockbusters had to be built up as an event to go to in order for films to be successful, more so now than any other film era. And in making an event out of their films, Marvel serialized their MCU movies like a season of Lost - individual episodes focused on a character or set of characters with the overarching story in the background until culminating in the season finale, or in Marvel’s case an Avengers movie.

So the biggest impact the MCU has had is shaping other movie studios approach to movie releases. After 2012’s The Avengers, many tried the serialized team-up event concept to varying degrees of failure. Universal flopped trying to launch a shared monsters universe with Tom Cruise’s The Mummy reboot in 2017. Warner Brothers has a semi-successful MonsterVerse going with Godzilla and King Kong. We’ll see how that progresses with the new Godzilla movie this summer. Warner Brothers also has the mostly failed DC Extended Universe. Starting strong with 2013’s Man of Steel but limping thereafter with lackluster installments in 2016’s Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice and Suicide Squad and 2017’s Justice League, DC/Warner Bros has seen more success with the mostly standalone attempts Wonder Woman in 2017, Aquaman in 2018, and Shazam in 2019. DC’s current strategy is kind of confusing though, with some plans to continue the DCEU, and other plans to do more standalone work.

So the fact that Marvel’s shared universe set of movies has worked and has been the only one to work so successfully is an anamoly and an achievement. Marvel was allowed to build its world over time, a luxury that was afforded to them by Paramount from 2008-2011 and by Disney when they were acquired in 2012. The first two phases of the MCU spanned ten films from 2008-2015, building a foundation for what the franchise is today. That type of patience has not been lended to DC in particular, something that ended up looking and feeling rushed and resulted in a less successful and less satisfying result in the DCEU.

The Marvel approach has changed not just the method of outside studios release strategies but also in releases within their Disney family. For studios to make money on these films, they have to culminate in an event to get people to the theater. Fewer and fewer indie films turn into financial successes, at least at the theater. So event movies galore are on the horizon at Disney. Disney proper has “live-action” remakes of classics animated classics Aladdin and Lion King coming out this summer. Pixar has Toy Story 4 set for a summer release as well, even though the third installment was originally thought to be the conclusion of the story. Lucasfilm has what has been announced to be the finale of the Skywalker saga in Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker coming out this winter. Each of those marketed as an event, whether it be a nostalgic event, an unexpected continuation, or a conclusion of a story.

Up Next for the Disney and the Marvel Cinematic Universe

While Marvel Studios has changed the movie industry and pop culture, it is hard to say what the next step for the MCU is. We know of a few things coming though.

With the announcement of Disney’s streaming service, Disney+, coming in November, there were MCU projects also announced to debut on the service. Loki, Falcon/Winter Soldier, and Wanda/Vision will all get series on Disney+. There will also be an interesting What If series where they were explore what if scenarios of some of your favorite Marvel characters.

The MCU’s film future is less set. We know that Spider-Man: Far From Home (co-release with Sony Pictures) comes out in July and is set in the immediate events after Endgame. After that, we know a few projects are in production but no definitive release dates have been set. Projects include a Black Widow flashback, origin stories for The Eternals and Shang-Chi, and sequels for Guardians of the Galaxy, Doctor Strange, and Black Panther as well as talks of sequels for Ant-Man and Wasp, Captain Marvel, and Thor (although I think the route for the Thor character should be to join the Guardians).

And then there is 21st Century Fox. Disney acquired the entertainment wing of Fox proper earlier this year (I was scared of Apple taking over the world, but Disney is closer to doing so). Fox owned the movie rights to all the Marvel properties included in the X-Men and the Fantastic Four. Fox’s run of X-Men movies presumably concludes this summer with Dark Phoenix. Since Marvel Studios now owns the movie rights to what has been traditionally two of the more popular Marvel brands, one would think some sort of reboot and integration into the MCU would be coming in this next chapter.

I’ll end on this. The Avengers Infinity Saga, the Star Wars Skywalker Saga, and Game of Thrones are all pop culture epics that will be ending their current chapters this year. It is hard to imagine the changing entertainment world will ever have subjects as impactful as these given the number of formats available and the vast number of entertainment options now available. Those three epics, especially the oldest being Star Wars, caught pop culture at a time when people would watch and experience the same thing. Soon, the event-centered entertainment world will grow smaller with less people gathering to experience and watch the same thing. Or maybe I’m wrong and every generation finds a way to galvanize to have that shared experience (Gone With The Wind, the original Star Wars, Titanic in the film world all being previous examples). I hope for the latter, but I can’t help but feel that the record-breaking Avengers: Endgame will be one of the last of its kind: an event that everyone wants to share and experience together.

[sssshhhthefilmsabouttostart]

The best and worst films of 2018

If after watching 112 films teaches you anything, it's that Hollywood will continue to pump out the franchise blockbusters - and audiences will still hand over their cash to see them, no matter how below average or unoriginal they may be.

Cinematically, 2018 was a year that marked the final screen appearances for both Robert Redford (’The Old Man and the Gun’) and Daniel Day-Lewis (’Phantom Thread’), heralded Bradley Cooper’s impressive directorial debut (’A Star Is Born), served up an innovative high-tech thriller (’Searching’) and bestowed the most gob-smacking showdown involving MCU’s greatest heroes and villains (’Avengers: Infinity War’).

It was also a very good year for Netflix loyalists who saw the company release a succession of well received films including ’Annihilation,’ ‘Roma,’ and ‘The Ballad of Buster Scruggs.’

Despite Dirty Harry’s memorable comment that “opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got one,” the films that have made this year’s ‘best list’ have been selected on the basis of the lasting impression they have left on this viewer after the lights have come up and the curtain’s been drawn.

So, what succeeded and what failed?

Ladies and gentlemen, may we please offer for your consideration…

50. THE OLD MAN AND THE GUN

49. INCREDIBLES 2

48. FILM STARS DON’T DIE IN LIVERPOOL

47. THE POST

46. CHAPPAQUIDDICK

45. RED SPARROW

44. GAME NIGHT

43. DEADPOOL 2

42. BOY ERASED

41. WIDOWS

40. STRONGER     

39. MOLLY’S GAME

38. FAHRENHEIT 11/9  

37. THE DARKEST HOUR

36. FIRST REFORMED

35. A STAR IS BORN

34. ISLE OF DOGS

33. BREATH

32. THE WIFE

31. READY PLAYER ONE

30. BLACK PANTHER

29. WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOUR

28. BRIGSBY BEAR

27. LADY BIRD

26. SICARIO: DAY OF THE SOLDADO

25. BEAUTIFUL BOY

24. PHANTOM THREAD

23. GHOST STORIES

22. FIRST MAN

21. TULLY

20. I, TONYA

19. SUSPIRIA

18. RBG 

17. THE FAVOURITE

16. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY 

15. MANDY

14. BRAWL IN CELL BLOCK 99 

13. SEARCHING 

12. A QUIET PLACE

11. BLACKKKLANSMAN

10. SWEET COUNTRY

The Australian ‘western’ is a genre all its own, and ‘Sweet Country’ was the finest example of its type. Both Warwick Thornton's direction and Dylan Rivers’ cinematography was outstanding, as were all of the lead acting performances. Shot in both Central and South Australia, ‘Sweet Country’ transcended the genre’s tropes to tell us a quintessentially Australian story, albeit a bloody, brutal and tragic one. 

9. VICE

As with his previous film ‘The Big Short,’ writer/director Adam McKay set aside the clean, colourful look of his comedies (’Anchorman,’ ‘Step Brothers’) in favour of a washed-out, edgy look, with the frequent use of hand-held cameras. The entire ensemble - including Steve Carell, Sam Rockwell and Amy Adams - were all impressive but it was Christian Bale’s skilful and highly effective portrayal of former VP Dick Cheney that deservedly received the kudos from critics everywhere. 

8. THE ENDLESS

Indie filmmakers Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, wrote, directed and starred in this terrific slow burner about two brothers who decide to revisit their childhood UFO death cult for some closure. Initially, the film’s daunting atmosphere gave the impression that this horror/sci-fi would follow the usual story ‘beats’ that accompany the genre. But after some mind-bending twists, ‘The Endless’ soon switched from being about a crazed cult into something else!

7. SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE

It’s no secret that Sony’s last few attempts with the character of Spider-Man have been underwhelming to say the least. However, this rousingly entertaining superhero adventure was easily 2018′s most unexpected surprise. The film’s impressive animation was beautiful, fluid and unique, whilst the storyline was both compelling and genuinely funny. What can we say - we finally got the ‘Spider-Man’ movie everybody wanted. It’s OK Sony, we now forgive you for ‘The Emoji Movie.’

6. THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

Sadly robbed of the Best Picture gong at last year’s Academy Awards, this third movie from award-winning playwright Martin McDonagh (‘In Bruges,’ ‘Seven Psychopaths’) was a dramedy that started with cleverness and wit before opening up into something truthfully human. McDonagh’s screenplay was so good that every single cast member, no matter how little their screen time, gave a great performance.

5. AMERICAN ANIMALS

In this true-crime movie, four bright and well-off college students in Kentucky plot to steal some rare books from their university's Special Collections Library in a misguided quest for personal glory. Written and directed by Bart Layton, ‘American Animals’ cleverly woven script was narrated by the heist's actual participants, bringing a fascinating layer to the proceedings as well as a connection between the characters and audience.

4. AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR

It may have been the most intense, complex and stirring MCU film yet, but it was as lean as epics get, with none of its nearly two-and-a-half-hour running time feeling wasted. While the many characters and intersecting plots may have confused casual viewers (it’s assumed audiences are now familiar with all that's come before), for fans, it was one mind-blowing moment after another.

3. MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT

Who would have thought that a 20+ year franchise would have been able to deliver one of the most exciting and visceral action films in recent memory? ‘Fallout’ saw the stepping up of both the action and the stakes, with the personal screws tightened on Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and the horrible consequences for failure. Love him or hate him, Cruise's performance was lean and focused, whilst Christopher MacQuarrie’s direction was effective and thrilling, always hitting every action beat - dead centre.

2. YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE

Director Lynne Ramsay’s bleak yet effective thriller about a broken and tormented ex-military vigilante (Joaquin Phoenix), who makes a living rescuing kidnapped girls and making the perpetrators violently pay with a hammer, was a dark and twisting journey into one man’s soul. Ramsay's filmmaking powers and script, combined with Phoenix's committed, unadorned performance and Johnny Greenwood's absolutely superb soundtrack, easily delivered one of this year’s most standout movies.

1. HEREDITARY

Although it polarised audiences everywhere, ‘Hereditary’ was a refreshing example of a studio (A24) subverting expectations and the perfect showcase of what horror is capable of when taken seriously.

Even as the film ventured into territory familiar to its genre, writer/director Ari Aster skillfully orchestrated the tension into something that felt like a nightmare straight from hell. What begins as a drama about a family tearing apart with grief, slowly descends into madness and the supernatural. 

Rather than rely on a ‘conveyor belt’ of jump scares strung together with a derivative story which exists purely as a vehicle to deliver those jump scares, ‘Hereditary’ put family drama at the forefront and milked every ounce of dread from the hideous realities of familial cohabitation for what they’re worth. 

Whilst the film’s cinematography, production design and score were all some of the best the horror genre has seen, it was the performances that finally sold ‘Hereditary,’ notably Toni Collette’s tormented turn as a manic mother who is mourning the loss of a parent. 

‘Hereditary’ didn’t just redefine horror - it successfully put its own wicked stamp on the tropes of the genre, and provided audiences everywhere with a truly unsettling experience.

Hail Paimon!

…AND NOW, THE WORST!

20. VENOM

19. THE MEG

18. MILE 22

17. WINCHESTER

16. LIFE OF THE PARTY

15. BLOCKERS

14. SKYSCRAPER

13. THE WEDDING GUEST

12. DEATH WISH

11. BOAR

10. THE NUN

Sadly, this fifth chapter in the ‘Conjuring’ universe was nowhere near as scary, inspired or coherent as its predecessors. The quick onslaught of jump scares, punctuated by sudden noises on the soundtrack, quickly dashed the hopes of viewers who saw the entire exercise as a colossal waste of time (not to mention that the titular character was almost ‘missing’ in her own movie). 

9. THE PREDATOR

This was a prime example as to how you kill a franchise. ‘The Predator’ was so bad, it made both ‘AVP’ movies look like modern day masterpieces. Whilst the acting and storyline were awful, the film suffered from plot holes, the lack of any kind of script, the constant desperate dramatic music featured relentlessly throughout and the forced jokes. Why director Shane Black thought injecting a comedy script into this franchise was a good idea is anyone's guess. 

8. THE HAPPYTIME MURDERS

Brian Henson, son of the legendary Jim Henson and the director of ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol’ and ‘Muppet Treasure Island,’ somehow thought this juvenile attempt at humour was a good idea. Instead, it did the most offensive thing that a comedy could ever do - it failed to make you laugh. 

7. THE SPY WHO DUMPED ME

This forgettable and redundant comedy, from its tired title to its forced acting and humour, tried desperately to be everything at once and ended up being nothing at all. Given the talent involved, one would have expected some semblance of subtly and finesse to let these strong performers elevate the material as they've been known to in the past. However, when the material was as blunt as a sledgehammer, there wasn’t much anyone could have done. 

6. GRINGO

Despite its polished production values and stellar cast, ‘Gringo’ amounted to an absolute bust. Director Nash Egerton’s unsavoury and amoral comedy of errors qualified as something contrived, convoluted and ultimately incoherent. Crammed with a myriad of ‘madcap’ situations that weren’t even remotely funny or original, this crappy caper failed to keep up with its talented cast who struggled in their portrayal of such unpleasant stereotypes.

5. PACIFIC RIM: UPRISING

CGI vomit. 

4. THE 15:17 TO PARIS

Anybody desperately wanting to watch this train wreck should fast forward the first hour and six minutes. Clint Eastwood’s effort to pay tribute to the three brave men who foiled the 2015 Thalys train attack was a cinematic misfire of epic proportions. The bold step of having the real-life heroes play themselves was a bad call (awkward delivery, mumbled lines), whilst the film also had an underlying Christian/pro-gun/pro-military vibe about it.  

3. ROBIN HOOD

From the over-the-top bow and arrow fights to the bizarre mix of costumes, ‘Robin Hood’ was comparable to Guy Ritchie’s disastrous reimagining of ‘King Arthur,’ only worse. Far worse. This umpteenth version of the legendary heroic outlaw was severely lacking in the entertainment and thrills department, and continued the Hollywood tradition of blockbuster remakes absolutely falling on their arses.

2. ACTION POINT

The ‘Jackass’ films were great, but this dismal wannabe ‘Caddyshack’ or ‘Porky’s’ left audiences longing for the relative artistry and sophistication of the crazy lads’ glory days. ‘Action Point’ was a predictable, exceptionally cheap and humourless affair, a watershed moment in terms of anyone ever bank rolling a feature film for these guys again. RIP gentlemen, it was a fun ride.

1. HOLMES AND WATSON

It’s all elementary as to which film was by far the very worst of 2018.

Everything about ‘Holmes and Watson’ was lazy, incompetent and decidedly unfunny. This shockingly misguided assault of repetitive bad slapstick and terrible writing squandered the remarkable talents of John C. Reilly, Rebecca Hall, Steve Coogan, Kelly Macdonald, Ralph Fiennes and Hugh Lawrie, and saw Will Ferrell give what was easily the worst performance of his entire career.

This was no ‘Step Brothers’ - this was pure, unadulterated garbage. 

[asynca]

Respect Your Leader - Mercy (POV) x the whole team - SFW

Mercy is sick of her team bickering, and decides to assume control of them. Crack humour, with implied F/F/F/F/F.

Speed prompt, written in 120 minutes.

[AO3] | [Fanfiction.net]

I’d hardly collected all my medical supplies and disembarked from the ship, and already I could hear that my ‘team’ were at it. Not this again, I thought, sighing at length. I’d just about had it with all their senseless bickering.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Tracer didn’t sound at all happy about discovering who else had been assigned to our mission. “I thought spiders preferred dark and damp environments. You know, like toilets.”

Widowmaker—who was actually keeping mostly to herself today, I thought—looked equally as unimpressed to be grouped up with Tracer. “I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about ‘damp’,” she fired right back, “You haven’t been near anything wet in your entire life.”

A third voice—Pharah, thankfully, she was mostly far less petty than those two—interrupted their little tiff. “Can we please focus?” she asked. “Save the childish bickering for after we’ve completed the objective.”

Widowmaker did not take well to that wording. “Sorry, ‘childish’?” Her voice was dry as a bone. “Me, or the person who spent the entire last objective throwing a tantrum and refusing to use comms because her mother politely suggested she should wait for the rest of the team before drawing fire?”

Pharah stiffened. “She wasn’t there, she didn’t know what I was planning. Her advice was just distracting me, that’s all.”

Widow was unmoved. “The highlight was when your voice cracked as you said, ‘You never trust me with anything, Mother,’ before switching off your headset.”

The vein in Pharah’s forehead popped out. “It was a strictly business decision. I was trying to concentrate.”

Widowmaker scoffed. “Will you make a business decision to throw a tantrum and switch off comms if someone tells you to stop running a one man team on this mission, too?” she asked. “Perhaps it’s too much of an adjustment to go back to taking orders when you were giving them for so long, Amari? Is that it?”

Pharah looked dangerously close to just flat out decking Widowmaker. “Well, it’s a moot point, Lacroix, because I’m leading this mission, so everyone will be following my orders. Including you.”

“Well, you’re not going to get very far if you don’t listen to the advice of your sniper this time,” Widowmaker told her, taking a casual, inflammatory step towards Pharah. “Just saying.”

“Actually,” that was Tracer’s primmest voice, and she took the opportunity to blink in between Widowmaker and Pharah and jab Widowmaker’s chest with the point of a finger, “I’m the scout, and we’ve run loads of successful missions before without a sniper. We don’t need one, and if you’re going to be such a twat about everything, you can just stay on the damn ship.”

Widowmaker acted as if Tracer hadn’t even spoken, her eyes still on Pharah. “Are you going to switch of comms in this mission, too, Amari?” She paused theatrically and feigned concern. “Wait a minute, should I not call you that? ‘Amari’? I don’t want people confused that I’m talking about the actual Captain Amari. You know, the Amari who won all the medals and saved so many lives…” Another pause. “Not the Amari who is essentially just an over-militarised mall security guard who actually thinks she can run a one-man strike team and bursts into tears when mummy says she can’t.”

Beside me on the bridge, Zarya made a gruff noise. “Some team,” she commented in her charming accent, and then looked down at me, jerking her thumb behind us with her eyes twinkling. “You know, it’s not too late to just get back on the ship and go home.”

I laughed. I’d forgotten how much I liked her. “I don’t really think that’s an option,” I admitted, “although it’s tempting, given this lot.” I looked down by the hanger door; the three of them were about a moment away from tearing each other to pieces.

Oh, dear. Well, I couldn’t just let them murder each other before the mission had even started, could I? My Caduceus staff was nearly at 0%. Someone needed to take charge of this lot. I sighed; I supposed that would have to be me. Why was it always me?

“I’m going to need your help,” I told Zarya over my shoulder as I left the bridge to approach my ‘team’.

She chuckled, hoisting her absolutely enormous gun over one shoulder like it weighed nothing at all. “Understood.”

I don’t know what the rest of them were bickering about, but whatever it was, I called cheerfully over it, “Alright, that’s quite enough of that!”

They all paused for a second, looked at each other, and then all at once began to try and tell me what was wrong with each other. I wasn’t going to have it, so I held up a hand. “No, I don’t care,” I told them as pleasantly as I could. “I don’t care who did what. We’re a team, we’re going to act like one. And, if none of the actual soldiers is able to get along for five seconds and actually lead the mission, I’m going to.” I looked back over my shoulder. “That’s alright with you, Zarya, isn’t it?”

Leaning casually on her upright gun, Zarya chuckled and saluted me.

That’s what I liked to see! “Excellent,” I told her with a smile, and then turned back to the others.

Widowmaker looked even more unimpressed than she had when she and Tracer were at it. “What make you think you have the skill or the knowledge to—”

I talked over her. “That’s quite enough.”

Looking disgusted, tried again anyway. “What does a doctor think she’s doing by—”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. I put one gloved finger firmly over those bee-stung lips of hers. “I said that’s enough, Amélie,” I told her, and left my hand there for just a moment. “We’re a team. I’m leading the team. You won’t talk over me.”

Pharah, proving that despite the best training she sometimes could be baited to be a little immature, said dryly beside me, “What’s the matter, Widowmaker? Having trouble taking orders from someone?”

Privately, I actually found Pharah turning Widowmaker’s words back on her to be rather well-placed and I’d probably laugh about it with her later; now, though, I couldn’t. Everyone on the team needed to get the same treatment from me; favouritism wouldn’t do at all. “You too, Pharah,” I said pleasantly. “Keep your mouth shut unless it’s to do with the mission.”

I don’t think she’d expected that—we were friends, after all. She looked at me with genuine surprise for a moment but then, understanding my methods, stood to attention, saluted, and looked straight past me with military-level discipline.

Huh. I always did like it when she was like this. Especially when she was wearing uniform; very appealing.

Tracer, looking between Widowmaker and Pharah, made a decision to copy Pharah and stood to attention too, her chest all puffed out. It was perhaps the most adorable thing I’d ever seen, and it was nice to be able to give orders to someone who’d immediately take them. “Good girl,” I told her. She beamed.

Widowmaker practically gagged at it. “’Good girl’?” she repeated, sounding ill. “’Good girl?’ What are you running her, Doctor, is it a strike team, or is a pre-school for wayward—?”

Beside me, there was a heavy thump. We all jumped. Zarya had let her weapon fall to the ground and was approaching Widowmaker with long, heavy strides and a glum expression. “That’s enough from you,” she told Widowmaker. “I don’t know about France, but in Russia, we don’t play games. We respect our leader.” She only stopped when she was toe-to-toe with Widowmaker, looming over her and peering down at her. “So, show her some respect.”

Well, this was certainly an interesting turn of events. I decided not to interfere.

Widowmaker looked straight back up at her. “Or what? You’ll ‘crush me like big Siberian bear’?” she asked, rather rudely imitating Zarya’s accent.

Zarya wasn’t baited at all. “Or I’ll do whatever Mercy tells me to do to you,” she said calmly. “Because she’s the leader. Now,” she said, putting two huge hands on either one of Widowmaker’s shoulders. “Kneel. Show some respect to your leader.”

Widowmaker’s arrogant veneer faded somewhat. “W-What?”

Beside them, Pharah and Tracer glanced at each other, wide-eyed and tittering, and then smothered their amusement and hopped back to attention when I gave them a chastising look.

Zarya’s booming voice made us all jump. “I said kneel!” she said, and then forced Widowmaker to her knees.

Honestly, I think Widowmaker was too surprised to retaliate, because I can’t imagine she’d ordinarily allow herself to be treated like that. It was so ridiculously over the top—were they really like that in Russia?

“That’s better,” Zarya said far more moderately once Widowmaker was actually on her knees, “and if you get up, I will be the one to tell Talon that you are why we failed our mission, because you were unable to swallow your pride and engage in proper, efficient teamwork.”

With that, she gave Widowmaker one more look of warning, and then turned to walk past me to where she’d left her gun.

“Are this really how you do it in Russia?” I whispered to her on the way past.

She chuckled; a low and rich sound. “No,” she said simply, and then flashed me a white-teethed grin. “At least, not on the battlefield.”

My eyebrows shot up; oh, my. I wasn’t able to stop myself from laughing at little.  

It didn’t take long for Widowmaker’s transparent surprise to morph into deep displeasure. “This is ridiculous,” she hissed. “Is humiliating your teammates on the Overwatch charter? No wonder it was decommissioned. Talon never forces its agents to submit to tactics like this.”

Tracer was busy scoffing behind her. “They wouldn’t need to force you, I bet you happily kneel in front of loads of random people all the time,” she said, and then began to giggle at her own joke.

She stopped immediately when we all looked at her, though, panicking. “Oh, um, ��silence’. Got it, Doc! Sorry!” she said, and then immediately knelt, too.

Since they were both kneeling, and since this was all far more interesting that I’d thought it would be, I looked up at the last soldier standing, so to speak: Pharah.

She looked down at me, confused. There were beads of sweat on her forehead.

I cleared my throat, and then smiled pointedly at her.

She finally realised what I meant. “Oh! Oh.” She knelt, too.

And, just like that, I had three previously very troublesome teammates silent, compliant, and kneeling in front of me.

Well, this had all turned out rather nicely! I almost wanted to take a seat here, sip tea, and admire my handiwork. Perhaps I should try my hand at leading more often?

There weren’t any seats, however, so I just walked a slow, leisurely circle around the three of them, appreciating the peaceful (alright, extremely tense) silence. It was nice to be able to hear myself think for once, and—if I’ll admit it—it was rather nice having such attractive teammates all doing exactly as I told them, even if it would be very unprofessional of me to say it aloud.

Unfortunately for me and my private enjoyment, Athena started a count-down, which meant my fun was over.

“Well, let’s get ready then, shall we?” I asked, motioning for them to stand.

“Oh, I’m allowed to stand up now?” Widowmaker asked me, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but she dropped the snark immediately when Zarya casually slammed the base of her weapon on the ground next to her and made her jump.

I smiled at Zarya. “After you,” I offered her as the door opened.

“No, no,” she said easily, insisting I exit before her, “after you, Leader.”

I laughed. Wasn’t she obliging! “Very well!” I told her, accepting her invitation. “I suppose if I draw fire, that just helps things for you, doesn’t it?”

With that, I led possibly the most subdued and compliant team I’d ever been in out on the battlefield and to a rather easy victory, and—not that I’d say so aloud!—I took some rather pleasant mental images back to my quarters that night.