#what a nice cameo of the book itself!! very nice indeed

[beaulesbian]

I was shelving the books by the first letter of the first sentence. - Good Omens, 2x02

"It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn't been invented yet. But clouds massing east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one." - Good Omens by Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

[confusedgoldenflower]

There is No Glorious Purpose Chap. 2

Hello, you beautiful Tesseract-loving bastards!

I've been meaning for a long time to update but I've been having a really bad time with the whole motivation thing, and what I had first thought of doing with this fic got thrown in a wood-chipper and sunk with the Titanic... so, I'm trying to pick up the pieces and decide where I want to go with this. I also wanted to do it episodically: Chapter One aligned with Episode One and so on. That has not worked partly due to the issues of the above so, well, I guess we'll find out together!

So sorry for any grammar issues, I did my best to look it over but got too sick of staring at it over and over again in my drafts.

Small Thor cameo!

Chapter Two: You Oafs

“Yeah, well, you’re a mischievous scamp--or at least, the other you is. Been killing our minutemen and stealing our reset charges. Been happening for quite a long time….” Mobius whistled lowly. Loki nodded slowly.

“If you know me or us as well as you say, what need have you of my help?”

“Like I said, mischievous scamp. And I know what makes a Loki tick, sure, but even Sherlock needed Watson sometimes--you do know about them, right? Really fun stories with a super smart detective and his below average side-kick--.”

Loki ignored the rambling, “I agree.” Perhaps then… after… peace? “Just tell me, please… is it true that I directly led to my mother’s death?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, definitely. Thor was pissed and then he dragged you along to Svart--Svartle… anyway, the planet of the Dark Elves with Jane because she absorbed the Aether. Then you faked your death, again . There’s that ‘doing a horrible thing then getting away,’ again. But Thor totally gets you back on Sakaar with those Obedience Disks. Yeah, yeah… oh, right, you don’t know--and won’t. He slaps one of ‘em on you when you betray him again, then dials it up all the way while he returns to Asguard. For a god, you get put down a lot .” Mobius chuckled.

Loki sucked in a shuddering breath, reverently laid the Tesseract down and stood, “let us catch this scoundrel then.” He faked a smile for the agent.

“Ok,” Mobius clapped and rubbed his hands together, “what a therapy session!”

Loki had a fleeting thought of, “he must be some Midguardian fool, possibly in some relation to Thor,” before he remembered that the all powerful Time Keepers had created the oaf in front of him.

“Ya know, for the record, maybe ‘undying fidelity,’ wasn’t the right thing to say to Thanos. Just saying. But this is good! We’re gonna be a great team.”

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

“Loki,” the orange clock whined on his ‘gifted’ desk. Though still somewhat transparent, Miss Minutes was a fairly good illusion.

“Yes?” He replied pleasantly, blue hand turning the page of a magazine. His slack-clad legs were propped on the desk, fine business shoes not too far from where she stood on a rather large book. The suit replacement of the prison wear wasn’t bad, he, of course, would have done better had he access to his seidr. But it was fine for the time being.

“Are you paying attention?” The angry little clock motioned to the old Midguardian computer screen which read in that same horrible orange color:

LET’S SEE WHAT YA KNOW!

Q2. Thanos has two apples. He eats both but realizes he wants more. He goes back in time 20 minutes and eats the apples again. Does this mean the apples will not have existed in the timeline he left?

No, because time is constantly happening

The question doesn’t matter because a branch cannot change another time branch

Thanos would’ve been hungry prior because the Grandfather paradox already accounted for the change in matter before it’s move.

TVA FILE EDIT VIEW MODE HELP

Of course he was paying attention, and of course he chose not to amuse them! One order after another; feeding off of each other even. He may have bowed to Thanos but he had never kneeled. Not truly. And he clung to that remaining dignity.

“Naturally,” he returned pleasantly. She sighed.

“What happens when a nexus event branches past red line?”

“Ragnarok.”

“Come on, Loki. What is it?... Loki!”

“It is when the TVA can no longer reset a nexus event. Are you satisfied?’

“Right. And that would lead to the destruction of the timeline and the collapse of reality as we know it.” He lowered the magazine lower into his lap and took his feet off the desk.

“Yes, indeed. Are you alive or a recording? Clearly, you can hear me.”

Her big cartoonish eyes moved around, “uh… sorta both?”

“So not an illusion or projection?” He swiped at her with the rolled up magazine.

“Ah!” A small smirk ghosted his face and he went after her again.

“Watch it! Where are your manners? Oh! Hey! Quit it! That is not nice, ya jerk!” She floated and then fazed back into the computer. He gave that ugly thing a few whacks as well. She pouted on the other side of the screen.

“Trainin’ going wel--is that my jet ski magazine? Put it down, Blue-Raz.” Mobius ripped the magazine from him, swivelled to his desk then swiveled again to flop a jacket in front of Loki.

“Gear up, there’s been an attack. Let’s go.” The agent commanded. Loki picked up the jacket. It unfolded from the collar, back facing him. “VARIANT” was emblazoned across it.

“Ah,” was all he commented as he moved to slip it on before his handler got any ideas while he was led down hallways. Norns knew the agent would have plenty of examples in his own life up to that point, much less his future or other variants.

“Good. Yeah. Smart.” Mobius commented with his fists in a move reminiscent of excited warriors as said human stopped to look back at his charge and the newly bestowed article of clothing. B-15 gave her usual droll stare. Her minutemen stood around her in a group.

“ C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant.”

The “actually dangerous” sort, Loki groused silently. Then Mobius opened his mouth.

“Here's the deal. When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant. And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include shape-shifting, illusion-projection, and my favorite... Duplication-casting. Illusion-Projection.”

Mobius gestured to him when applicable in his little speech, also projecting other variations of Loki with his TemPad--all assumedly pruned likewise. Variation 8: L6792 looked exactly like he would now had he’d been afforded the luxury of keeping his clothes, but also with slight differences that led Loki to think that that variant must have been favored royally in some way he was rejected.

Variation 8: L1247 looked like a Midguardian sportsman happily holding a trophy of some kind. Variation 8: L6792 was an atrocity of him and the Hulk combined. Variation 8: L8914 was more strongly built with more prominent hair curls in their longer hair. They stood like dignitary with their hands behind them. Variation 8: L7803 looked like an oaf. A full, half-face helmet emblazoned with the horns in the wrong direction and even a piece of turf over the shoulder like a cape. Oh, dear….

“No.”

“...Huh?”

“Those two powers are completely different, although, I am unsurprised you cannot comprehend it.”

“Loki, what are you talking about--look, I’ve dealt with more of you than you’ve dealt with yourself.”

“The truth remains that those powers are not the same.”

“Then, please, Loki, tell me.”

Loki smiled easily and supplicatingly at the contempt and patronization, just like talking to anyone in Asguard.

“ Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure.”

“Ok, take a breath. Noted. We’re gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki here”

B-15 still looked unamused and dubious.

“Whoever the Variant is, we haven’t been able to find them so I’m the Sherlock and he’s my Watson. Look, this’ll work.” Mobius said to her. She side-eyed Loki, Loki who had nothing but a branded jacket to protect himself with.

“And so my agency in this is to… tell you how brilliant you are.”

“Go outside, maybe touch some grass.” Mobius returned with a tilted smile under his twisted nose.

“Ah. I shall protect myself with your wit, then, should this superior being choose me as a next target.”

Mobius chuckled and mimed “talky-talky” again.

He passed through the portal B-15 had summoned, closed in on both ends by TVA agents. Immediately, he could feel his seidr swell within him again and redonned his Aesir glamor. The choker chafed as he glanced around, and he found himself much preferring the biting metal of the chains he was usually imprisoned in. The place they passed into was a celebration of old Midguardian times, further back than what the TVA modeled itself after, in direct juxtaposition of the modern technology with the humans held in their hands, and had used to both get to the location and create their sometimes elaborate costumes.

“Apex of nexus signature located, ma'am,” a minuteman said as they walked.

“Allow me to ask you this, why do we not travel to the moments prior to the Variant’s attack, to when they arrive.” Loki asked as the tent grew ever nearer.

“Nexus events destabilize the time flow. This branch is still changing and growing, so you gotta show up in real time. Did you watch any of the training videos you were supposed to?”

The minutemen twisted their batons, the ends glowing a shade that seemed to haunt the TVA as they neared.

Loki chuckled a laugh that was never and would never be heartfelt, “my dear Sherlock, you should know I am quite the scholar. But these ‘reset charges,’ they ‘prune’ a branched timeline which ‘allows time to heal all wounds.’”

Mobius made an odd gesture towards him, “he’s on it.”

Within the dark, torch-lit tent, limp minutemen laid about the displays which held real weapons and a large, stepped seating construct. Their bodies were splayed out in obvious struggle. Unactivated batons laid around as well, a few clenched in hands. A helmet bearing “C-20” laid, discarded within the scene. Loki hovered a hand over one display as he passed and they grouped around the scene.

“So he's taking hostages now?” B-15 spat.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before,” Mobus returned.

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her,” a minuteman remarked.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.” B-15 returned.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 ordered, her minutemen immediately moving to obey.

“Let's go. She's right.” A peon echoed.

Mobius concurred, “Come on.”

“Wait….” Loki said, brow knit as he studied the scene.

“What do you see?” Mobius asked as he stepped away from the entrance.

“I see wolf’s teeth.”

“Yeah, ok,” Mobius motioned for him to hurry and Loki got brief satisfaction that the human had no idea what he was talking about.

“‘Where there are wolf’s ears, there are wolf’s teeth,’” Loki echoed one of many sayings he heard during his childhood, especially before bed. He swallowed down the thought of a certain story about blue, darkly lined and vicious monsters.

“Ridiculous, really,” he laughed hallowly, “my people are gullible fools by nature. You remind me of them; the Time Variance Authority and the great gods of Asgard. One and the same. Drunk with power, blinded to the truth. Those you underestimate will devour you, and we’ve just walked into a wolf’s mouth.” He raked his eyes across his audience as he spoke, kneeling down in front of the helmet and stroking his hand in the grassy turf. The minutemen seemed to falter ever so slightly, B-15 rolled her eyes, and Mobius stared.

A TemPad beeped, “two units, he’s wasting our time.”

“No, step outside this tent and my other Variant will devour you,” Loki stated plainly. It was easy, nearly in a terrifying way, how he fell into the usual routine he had had with his oaf of a brother and his lackeys, who, similarly, never headed his words.

“We need to look for C-20.” B-15 repeated.

“Come on, Loki, we don’t have time for your lies.”

“Oh, I am not lying, and out of curiosity, when you find them, will you prune us both seeing as you will not have any need of me?”

Mobius sighed and gesticulated like a frustrated middle-aged Midguardian, “he’s lying.”

Loki’s head turned to the side minutely, in a ghost of a head shake. His stomach turned the way it usually did when he knew things were about to--.

“Aghr!” A minuteman had exited and had been consequently slaughtered. A brawl broke out just outside the small entrance. Innocent event-goers made exclamations outside as well. Batons revved, and B-15 and Mobius stalked to the opening. Loki walked behind them.

“The charge!” Someone yelled. The fight continued. A cloaked figure with amazing skill in combat fought them all while a crowd of civilians formed around them. There were a few smiles and jeers, no doubt thinking it was all a show.

“On behalf of t-... the Time Va-...Variance Authority, I hereby-... arrest you for-... for crimes against the… Sacred Timeline, V-… Variant!” B-15 huffed between blows.

“Ergh!” A minuteman got pruned. Loki’s cloaked variant said nothing, only continued fighting. He backed back into the tent, took aloft a jousting lance, broke it half and reemerged. For all their combined ability, the TVA was losing. The glow of pruning swung around arbitrarily. He dipped into the fight and caught his counterpart’s cutlass in the cross the two ends of the lance made.

“Pardon me, I mean no intrusion,” he said calmly to his other self, noticing a similar collar of metal that had adorned his own garments. He could feel the other’s tension as they reclaimed their sword and focused solely on him. It proved more of a poor decision than anticipated and he found himself holding his breath in pain more than he’d wanted. The wood was also useless and even though both it and he put up a valiant fight, his other self had taken hold of a baton along the line. His weapons were useless as they continued to share blows. He lowered the stubs of wood and opened his arms. The glowing end came close.

Then it wasn’t.

The grunting that followed was B-15 and Mobius disarming the variant of the baton and nearly restraining them.

“About to redline!” A remaining minuteman nearly yelled. B-15 and Mobius shared a look. A door was opened and Loki found the cloaked figure disappearing into a flurry of gold.

“What in the Rolling Stones was that, Blue-Raz?!” Mobius had him hard by the shoulder of both his jacket and dress shirt.

Loki blinked once then made eye contact with Mobius, “what ever do you mean?”

“He was about to kill you!”

“Prune,” Loki politely corrected. Mobius gawked.

“I kno--what were you thinking?!”

“Your only use of me is to capture me, I was assisting in that.”

“By letting you be killed by yourself?!”

“A mere distraction to the larger goal, Mobius.”

“And it almost worked,” B-15 piped from somewhere beside them. Her voice had dropped a tone or two.

“Yeah… almost had ‘im too.” Mobius admitted, letting Loki go. “But seriously, man, what was that?”

“Nearly fulfilling my role, as you yourself stated.” Loki replied pleasantly.

“We also barely pruned it in time and got outta there with our lives.” B-15 stated.

“Yeah…” Mobius rubbed the back of his head with his other hand on his hip as he stared at the floor. I was not lying, Loki wanted to say. To push. To scream. But he instead focused on the ache in his back. It should be fine in a matter of a few more hours given the time he had for recovery before the Tesseract opened the portal in New York and he was knocked from the Mind Stone’s, and thus Thanos’, direct influence.

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

Loki subconsciously touched his hideously blue palm as he waited outside of the judge’s office for his handler. The doors were decorated with sandglasses. How quaint .

Mobius finally emerged, stalking right past him. Loki fell in step behind him. He realized such only after he’d done it.

An angry finger wagged in front of him as they walked, “one thing, Loki, that’s all I asked.”

“The ‘talk’ from earlier.”

“No! Catching the superior version of yourself. We lost guys out there today-- good guys!” Good, yes, ‘good guys’ who also happened to have erased who knows how many people from existence.

“There would have been a lot more had I not been there and, likewise, a lot less had I been heeded.”

“And there you go again. That narcissism! Do you ever stop? Get tired of yourself?”

Loki didn’t respond as Mobius stopped and whirled on him, only gave him his schooled expression.

“I’m on thin ice ‘cause of you. I saved you, remember that? Didn’t that mean anything to your Asguardian standards or personal morals or anything?”

“If you recall, I was about to meet that fate regardless as I helped you bring in my Variant. I also have little doubt you will delete me if I survive assisting you in their arrest either way.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy? Ok. Well that other you is worse, remember that. He’s killed a lot of people--more than you. You’re just a little blue ice runt, crying in the cold.”

Loki chuckled and didn’t even need to bite back the urge to correct this “Loki expert.”

“Ever get tired of playing this same old part?” Mobius continued bitterly, “I’m getting sick of your constant need for sympathy, Loki!”

“Mobius?” He asked after allowing a few minutes to pass.

“What?” Mobius mumbled.

“This other Variant is after reset charges, why not supervise another ‘pruning’ in case we find the correct branch they target. How many happen in a day, usually?”

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

Loki almost choked when they entered into an Aguardian hall. The was beautiful and towering and held stones and architecture he could rewrite the books about. For one blissful second, he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of his homeland--or the place he was raised. His glamor fell over him unconsciously.

Then he had to play follow-the-leader with the TVA peons. He rounded a large corner and immediately knew how many steps it would take to get to his room, his mother’s and Thor’s.

“Loki?” A familiar voice boomed. Loki tensed. Mobius cast him a “good luck” glance and mumbled, “I’ll be back for ya, Blue-Raz”

Loki had the urge to run him through followed by his brother who should not—it didn’t matter, the timeline would be reset. The Thor bounding up behind him would be pruned with everything else… why did that hurt? He turned to face his adopted sibling.

“Loki, it is you? Isn’t it? I mean you look horrendous in that getup, but it’s you!” Thor held his hands out in what could only be described as reverence. But the esteemed Asguardian Prince was wearing dirty Midguardian clothes and had a beer gut to match. How? Barely any time had elapsed between that moment and when they were facing down in New York.

“It is me but what happened to you, brother?”

A shadow came over Thor’s face. His hands lowered and he reached out to Loki.

“Tell me the truth,” he whispered, “did you just escape the dungeons?”

Loki held his gaze for a few long moments. The timeline will be reset. There is no harm in it.

“No, Thor, I never—this me never went to the dungeons. Never came back to Asguard.”

Thor hissed an inhalation of breath as his eyes widened.

“Thor what happened to you? Why do you have mismatched eyes? Where is your armor? Or Mjolnir?”

“Oh, Loki! Loki. Loki. Loki.” Thor’s voice trembled with false laughter and an emotion Loki didn’t know, “what--you look horrendous. What in the Nine Realms are you wearing?”

“Thor, it is good to see you, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time for a chat.” Loki returned, clipped. Redline grew ever nearer.

Thor’s face fell again, “Loki… just tell me you’re alive. That I didn’t fail you on the Statesmen--Thanos is dead now, I-I killed him! I-... I killed him… I avenged you.”

“Oh, Thor,” Loki found himself saying as Thor’s eyes shined and tears spilled onto his cheeks. He allowed himself to be squeezed in the other’s arms… and found it to be the best hug he’d ever received… or the only hug….

“Thor… Thor, are you listening?” Thor only sobbed into his shoulder, holding Loki up against his beer gut and off of the actual floor.

“Y-yes?”

“Very soon, this timeline will be reset which means you will have never seen me here. So tell me, what happened to you?”

Thor whined in the back of his throat and plopped Loki back down, it was just hard enough to make pain spike up his nearly healed spine.

“I--You--Thanos--.”

Loki laid his arms on Thor’s biceps, squeezing gently, Thor shuttered then took a breath and smiled fondly at him. Fondly. Thor never did that. What sort of--how is he not the Variation?

“So after Ragnarok, Thanos… had all the Stones and killed half of what was left of Asguard including you. I wasn’t able to--I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me, Thor, I am right here.”

“Then I was found by the space morons and went to Nidevelir to forge Storm Breaker because Hela broke Mjolnir before Sakaar--Ragnarok happened because of her. Then we battled with the Avengers in Wakanda and… I didn’t go for the head! How could I have not gone for the head?! Thanos snapped and…. It was horrible, brother. Absolutely horrible. The whole universe. And so many extinctions followed and more tragedies. I-....” He hung his head. “I tried to drown my worries like the ‘oaf’ I am….”

“I thought your annoying little group was the ‘Avengers’ not the ‘Alcoholics.’”

“... Ha!” Thor slapped him on the back. The statement seemed to have brought about the intended reaction.

“Yes! Of course! So five years later, we found him and I slayed him! But Tony and Scott found a way to move through time to get the stones to undo it all, and so we did, and we succeeded! But still, Thanos haunted us and we had a final battle--which we won!” Thor seemed to have noticed himself that he was about to go into one of his long winded stories of victory, and cut it short.

Then his smile abated and his beard fell, “Loki, Steve and Tony lost the Tesseract in 2012 to you…?”

“Yes, yes, that would be me, brother.”

A gasp of breath as Thor readied himself for the most bone crushing hug in the universe was all that was afforded to Loki.

“Thor,” he wheezed slightly, “I know I was not kindest to you but must you kill me prematurely?”

“Oh, Loki! I never threw you off the Bifrost, and I-!”

“Charge is set, we gotta boogie!” Mobius interrupted, jogging over.

Thor allowed the interruption if only to interrogate him, “and who are you? How and why do you command my brother? If you are with Tha-!”

To Loki’s astonishment, a few electrical charges emanate off of his brother.

“No, time to talk. Put Loki down We gotta get outta Dodge.”

Thor’s grip tightened, “Thor, just do it!” Loki groused. Thor did. Mobius opened the portal.

“Sorry, big guy, big fan but I need your Buddy. You ever think of trying Old Spice?”

“Ah--I just--Loki just returned to me as he always does and you expect me to just give up?!”

“Thor, do not follow us, I would rather not see you get deleted.”

Heavy feet crossed through the yellow threshold and left 2023 Thor in 2014 with a gaping mouth and tear stained cheeks.

“So no Loki!” Mobius announced as he clapped his hands together, “that means we gotta get to work!” He went on to walk at a brisk pace. Loki trailed after, blinking back the stinging in his now red eyes.

“I was of the understanding that is what we were doing,” he put a hand over his throat while he cleared it.

“I need you to go over each and every one of this Variant's case files, and then, give me your... How do I put it?... Your unique Loki perspective. And who knows? Maybe there's something that we missed.”

Seeing as how you are so hypocritical, I would be surprised if you had not missed anything. Honestly, “all you Lokis are the same” yet in the same breath, “no Loki variant is exactly alike.” I think as I do.

“You are the expert, I trust your judgement” Loki said instead.

“That's why I'm lucky I got ya for a little bit longer. Let me park ya at this desk. And don't be afraid to really lean into this work. Here's a good trick for you: pretend your life depends on it. I'm gonna get a snack.”

For all his countless hours spent in not only the Grand Library, but others around Asguard and the other Realms, he found himself having little interest in sifting through all the instances in which that other version of him overcame the great TVA and triggered more animosity against themselves--and all other Lokis.

“Any motive, Sherlock?” He asked dryly.

“That’s what you’re for!” The agent chuckled, poked at his chest and walked away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the agent walk away then turned his attention to the paperwork. The pattern was known to begin with but became… inane the more pages he flipped through: nexus event, dispensed TVA agents, the team goes silent, they’re found dead and without the reset charge, Mobius, the expert, is called in for investigation and then the branch is reset before redline.

One Loki… only one to best their happy little teams. I was bested, but I also have extenuating circumstances of the past year. Without Thanos’ interruption, could I have?... Yes, I fought alongside Thor and his foolish troup of warriors, I would have been able to exact my own damage. For a ‘timeline protection force,’ how are they schooled in combat?

“Pardon me,” he tapped the librarian’s bell. She turned to him with a nonplussed expression.

“Could you show me to the combat regimens of our dear agents?”

“No.”

“Infographics?”

“No.”

“Battle end-games?”

“No.”

“Well, you have been very helpful, thank you.” It was still a library after all and he more than knew his way around one seidr or not; his mind was still intact--somewhat intact and that had always been his greatest weapon.

So he sat back down at the table to form a plan of action, so to speak, of how he could find the files he wanted in the fastest and most assured way. But, he still had all the paperwork of this other Loki, dripping in red. Oozing. Gushing. Like Thor’s cape as yet more enemies were put to ruin under his brother’s sheer might. He never envied that red; never thought he could own it or have it become him… yet this other version had jumped--leapt into that pool of blood and ended all who stood in their way. Incapacitation would have sufficed. Has sufficed in innumerable cases. He’d both saved lives of his comrades and stupid brother, and saw the end goal in such a way.

He gasped and leapt up, running along the railing of the library.

“Mobius--.”

“No, I said, ‘don’t bother me until you’ve read all the files,’ and I know you don’t read that fast.” Mobius set his Js\osta down with a hard thonk .

“I have, but unimportant--.” Loki slid into the seat across from the agent in the cafeteria.

“No, read every file pertaining to the Variant.”

“The answer does not lie in the files, it lies on the timeline!” Mobius gave him a dangerous look at the slight raising of his voice. Loki took a breath.

“Look,” Loki began again with his arms fanning over the table, “they’re hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which one? There’s, like, a million?”

“Take Ragnarok, I assume you are familiar?”

“Yeah, total destruction of your weird coin planet and most of its people because of your sister Hela. I’m sorry.”

Sister? Hela? Thor mentioned her--unimportant now.

“Yes, well, that recent visit with Thor got me thinking…?”

Mobius regarded him but eventually sighed and sat back, making a small gesture, “yeah, sure, ok.”

“Nexus events happen when someone does something that is not meant to happen--.”

“A bit more complicated but yeah.”

“These can culminate into entire other timelines--.”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.” Loki did his best to ignore the interruptions. He forced animation into his movements as if trying to explain it to Thor. That was best, pretend he was explaining something that now seemed so basic to the warrior.

“Alright! So this is Asgard,” he plundered the agent’s salad bowl. Said agent gave sad push back. Loki continued.

“I could travel back to Asgard preceding Ragnarok and do whatever I wished; switch crowns, resoil linens, topple some columns. I could destroy the Rainbow Bridge.” He grabbed the small salt shaker and started pouring some in. Mobius mourned his food. Loki was not fed.

“None of this would matter. Not if I set fire to the courtyard. Or even killed the Allfather!”

“Why--Lo--God, Loki!”

“Excuse me,” Loki greeted Casey kindly at an adjacent table, “are you finished with this?”

Casey, who had his bunched napkin thrown on his plate in clear sign of being finished looked from his crumpled juice box to Loki, “you!”

“Yes, very nice to see you again,” Loki took the drink container and poured it into the salad, secretly relishing how the agent utterly deflated.

“Due to Surtur!” Loki finished.

Mobius rubbed his hand down his face, “what am I lookin’ at?”

“Apocalypses, Holmes.”

“Loki, you just apocalypse my lunch, I wanted to eat that!”

“You want my other Variant.”

Mobius leaned onto the table, “cut to the chase.”

“That is how they have escaped you for so long; no matter what happens, an apocalypse negates anything that would otherwise summon the TVA.”

“Oh, not bad. Not Bad. Hey, so, how do you weigh over five hundred pounds?”

That was a “jackknife”--as Midgaurdians may say--that he did not expect.

Mobius raised his hands, “hey, I’m not judging, just curious.”

“Focus, Mobius, please.”

“Ok, ok. My salad. Destroyed.” Another despondent hand waved at the bowl.

“I can show you my theory is true.”

Mobius laughed, “I’m not letting you go.”

“You come with me, naturally,” Loki pushed.

“Well, I’ve had enough of your troublemaking for one day.”

“No one has to know unless I am correct--which I am.”

“TVA agents can’t just go running around anyway. Waltzing into the White House would be a Nexus event.”

You are not listening!

“Pompeii, for instance, you Midguardians like talking about that catastrophe, we could go there!”

“Pompeii?”

“Pompeii. Everyone died and that town was not even the worst hit of the eruption of Vesuvius.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Talk, talk, talk. Oh, you’re so smart!” Mobius sneered and wiped his mouth with his napkin despite not having spilled anything much less eaten enough to make a mess of his face. No food for either of them it seemed.

“If I go along with this and you stab me in the back, you’re getting erased. Capische?”

“Understood,” I am fully expecting that regardless.

[aion-rsa]

The Mandalorian Season 2 Trailer Breakdown and Analysis

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The Mandalorian season 2 will send Mando and Baby Yoda to new places across the galaxy and to new dangers, as the bounty hunter with a heart of gold searches for the Child’s home. As teased in the season’s first trailer ahead of the Oct. 30 premiere, the journey won’t be easy. Mando (Pedro Pascal) won’t only have to contend with other bounty hunters trying to get the jump on him but also the brutal Empire, which is still on the hunt for the Child. And unbeknownst to our hero, the cruel Moff Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) survived his encounter with the Mandalorian and is out for blood, the power Darksaber in hand.

There’s plenty going on in this trailer, between firefights, duels, and even a few X-wing scenes (!), so I’m breaking the video below to see what secrets are hiding in plain sight. Hopefully, we’ll learn a few new things about season 2 along the way. Hit me in the comments or on Twitter if you’ve caught something I’ve missed!

Before I get started, here’s the trailer again:

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Okay, here’s what I’ve found so far:

The trailer opens with Mando and Baby Yoda flying the Razor Crest towards a terrestrial moon I can’t quite recognize, although the way it’s introduced into the shot reminds me how the Millenium Falcon flew around the gas giant of Yavin to reveal the much smaller Yavin IV hiding just behind it. It’s a nice little callback.

Of course, the biggest detail here is that the Razor Crest has clearly taken some damage before this scene, as you can see from the sparking engine and the way the ship can’t seem to fly in a straight line towards its destination. The cargo door is also hanging open, unable to close. The ship clearly ran into some trouble.

As you’ll see throughout the rest of the trailer, the Razor Crest will at the very least pick up some New Republic pursuers this season, and the Empire isn’t too far behind either. Expect a few dog fights.

We then see Mando and the Child walking across the surface of what looks like a settlement in the desert. Are the heroes back on Tatooine? Or are they on one of the other dry planets introduced in the first season, like Arvala-7 and Nevarro? Tatootine seems most likely since Star Wars can’t help itself. Either way, the trailer delivers the Western vibes right away, as the gunslinger and his ward arrive in this desert town. Trouble will definitely follow.

“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction,” says the Armorer (Emily Swallow) during this shot. “You must reunite it with its own kind.”

These lines are of course a callback to the end of the first season when the Armorer sent Mando on his way to find the Child’s home.

Clear skies. The desert. A Tusken Raider riding a bantha. This is definitely Tatooine. Is Mando on his way back to see mechanic Peli Motto (Amy Sedaris) after another run-in with some enemy ships?

It’s on Tatooine where Mando will likely meet Timothy Olyphant’s Cobb Vanth, a former slave who found Boba Fett’s old armor and made himself sheriff of a settlement called Freetown in the Aftermath books by Chuck Wendig. This character’s arrival may have actually been teased in the first season’s fifth episode. In finale scene of the episode, we see and hear as a mysterious stranger with spurs on his boots finds the body of Fennec Shand, the assassin played by Ming-Na Wen. At first, most fans speculated that this was Boba Fett but since Olyphant’s Vanth casting came to light, the sheriff seems more likely.

All that said, Temuera Morrison has been cast to play Boba Fett in the series as well, although reports suggest the character only plays a small role on the show. Maybe even just a brief cameo. A showdown between Mando, Cobb, and Boba Fett sure would be an interesting half-hour of television, though. Either way, this series is poised to confirm that Boba Fett survived the sarlacc pit from Return of the Jedi.

Mando and Baby Yoda’s search take them to an ice planet at some point. There are plenty of ice planets in the Star Wars galaxy, so I’m not sure which this is. The very first episode of the series followed the Mandalorian as he visited the ice planet of Maldo Kreis to collect a bounty. It’s possible he’s back on Maldo Kreis for season 2.

The next shot shows Mando kneeling next to the Child, some kind of ship or vehicle wreckage in the background. I’m not sure what kind of vessel this is, but it almost looks Clone Wars era to me. What do you think?

As Mando walks through what looks like an outpost full of aliens from all over the galaxy, we hear the Armorer telling the bounty hunter about “an order of sorcerers called Jedi” who she believes might know more about the origins of the Child. It’s possible that Baby Yoda is even one of these “sorcerers.” (We know of course that the Child is indeed strong in the Force and would make an excellent Jedi.)

Just as the Armorer mentions these sorcerers, we see a cloaked figure watching Mando and the Child from the shadows. While some thought this might be Rosario Dawson’s Ahsoka Tano, who is also making her live-action debut on the show, this is actually a mystery character played by none other than WWE superstar Sasha Banks. The trailer strongly teases that Banks’ character is either a Jedi or a dark sider. This seems like a bit of misdirection to me, but it’s clear that Banks is at the very least some sort of spy watching Mando’s moves.

We then see Mando and Baby Yoda riding on a boat across foggy waters to parts unknown, which its very cool in itself since we don’t really see much sea travel in Star Wars unless it’s on Naboo. Why can’t Mando get to wherever he’s going on the Razor Crest, though?

Remember those New Republic pursuers I mentioned earlier? A little more than midway through the trailer, the Razor Crest is met by two X-wings who lock S-foils in attack position after Mando undoubtedly fails to comply with their orders. A very cool chase sequence through a cloudy sky ensues that I can’t wait to watch more of.

Mando’s allies, Greef Karga (Carl Weathers) and Cara Dune (Gina Carano), are back for season 2. Judging from the destruction in the background and the terrain, it looks like Mando will reunite with his friends on Nevarro some time after their fight with the Empire last season.

The Empire is back too, of course. We see troopers and pilots rushing into battle on speeder bikes and the Outland TIE fighters first introduced in season 1. Judging from the volcanic terrain in these scenes, it looks like this scuffle with the Empire also takes place on Nevarro.

This looks like it’s going to be an awesome fight sequence, with Mando jetpacking off a cliff to meet the Imperial scum. Is Moff Gideon waiting for him?

I can’t tell what’s happening here except that Mando has trapped someone, hanging them from a street post. The graffiti all over the walls makes me think this is back on Mos Eisley, which was heavily vandalized after Imperial forces were slaughtered there. You all remember the stormtrooper helmets on pikes, right?

A couple of quick cuts of Mando and Baby Yoda walking through an ice cave and what looks like the Razor Crest falling through a planet’s atmosphere follow. Then we get the most interesting scene of the entire trailer, as Mando and the Child walk into a room where two Gamorreans are duking it out inside a ring! The Star Wars Wrestling Federation is a thing and it includes weapons and is probably to the death. I now want to watch a whole show about a Gamorrean heavyweight making his way through the seedy world of whatever sport this is.

Unsurprisingly, Mando and the Child run into some trouble during the fight, as a group of criminals turn their blasters on them. The one-eyed alien doing the talking is an Abyssin, a species first introduced in the cantina scene in A New Hope.

Baby Yoda hilariously takes cover as Mando activates his whistling birds, the tiny guided projectiles that make quick work of these bozos. By the time Mando takes down that Zabrack guard (!), it looks like the bounty hunter is the last man standing.

“This is the way.”

More on The Mandalorian season 2 as we learn it!

The post The Mandalorian Season 2 Trailer Breakdown and Analysis appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[crampdown]

Cramp’s Comic Recommendations For Fans Of Classic Rock And Co.

Allright here we go. This is my current list of comics/manga/graphic novels you might enjoy if you’re into classic rock. Before we get started I’d just like to let you all know:

- This list is far from being complete. I’m sure there are many more groovy comics out there that I’m simply not aware of yet so if you have any suggestions feel free to add them :)

- I know I said “Classic Rock” but some of my choices may drift into other musical directions

- Needless to say I do not own any of the following images. They all belong to their rightfull owners and I’ll use them as visual reference material only.

- Sorry for eventual misspelling

Let’s go ^^

1. Bob Dylan Revisited 

Let’s start with an obvious choice. This is a collection of 13 well-known Dylan Songs, each of them graphically interpreted by a different artist. The most striking feature therefore is the high variety of different art styles. Some of them are cartoony, some are very abstract while others are almost photo realistic.

Dylan’s mesmerizing lyrics have always been inspirational and these beautiful depictions truly are a sight to see. 

Including works of Thierry Murat, Lorenzo Mattotti, Nicolas Nemiri, François Avril, Jean-Claude Götting, Christopher,  Bézian, Dave McKean, Alfred, Raphaëlle Le Rio, Maël Le Mae, and Henri Meunier, Gradimir Smudju, Benjamin Flao, Jean-Phillippe Bramanti and Zep.

Zep’s take on “Not Dark Yet”

Jean-Phillippe Bramanti’s interpretation of “Knocking On Heaven’s Door”

Definitely worth checking out not only for Bob Dylan Fans.

2. Baby’s In Black” by Arne Bellstorf

I’ve seen several people in the Beatles fandom complain about the lack of Stuart Sutcliffe material when it comes to early Beatles history. 

Well, here it is: a graphic novel that focuses on the relationship between Stuart Sutcliffe and fotographer Astrid Kirchherr who took the very first professional photos of the Beatles during their time in Hamburg (1960-61).

Told mostly from Astrid’s point of view this comic presents itself in a grey and melancholic tone that fits the rather sad story. Bellstorf’s drawings are simplified and charming (they remind me of early sixties children book illustrations which suits the setting’s time period)

If you’re interested in early Beatles history (especially their Hamburg days) you should give this one a try.

3. Blue Monday by Chynna Clugston Flores

I really wish I had known about this amazing comic series a few years earlier, not only because this is a slice of life/coming of age story with teenage characters who are actually likeable and relateable but also because “Blue Monday” is an overall highly entertaining depiction of early nineties teen culture/rebellion in an American suburb that comes with a lot of references to Britpop, mod culture, Buster Keaton movies and Adam Ant (to name only a few).

To quote the author herself: “It’s like Archie on crack, with cursing and smokes”.

The art style of Chynna Clugston Flores is very vivid and expressive and has a certain stylistic touch of anime/manga (like a lot of comics from the early 2000s). I also really enjoy all of the graphic fashion details in this one. Plus, this is the first comic with it’s own soundtrack and that’s always a nice bonus.

I’d recommend “Blue Monday” for fans of Britpop, Punk, New Wave and early 1990′s culture.

4. Punk Rock And Trailer Parks by Derf Backderf

Another story about growing up in American small town madness, this time set in 1980s gritty Punk subculture of the former rubber city of Akron, Ohio. Protagonist Otto who likes to refer to himself as “The Baron” becomes fascinated with Punk after attending a Ramones concert. He meets several Pubk icons (thus as The Clash, The Plasmatics, rock journalist Lester Bangs and many more) and becomes someting of a local punk star himself.

Derf Backderf (who is best known for his highly acclaimed graphic novel “My Friend Dahmer” and his Eisner award winning comic “Trashed”) created a comic that is as “raw and dirty as punk itself”. His art style is an unique combination of expressionism, underground cartoons and punk magazines.

“Punk Rock And Trailer Parks” is a must-have for punk fans (especially if you’re into The Ramones and The Clash. It made me a huge fan of both of them).

5. “CASH - I See A Darkness” and “Nick Cave - Mercy On Me” by Reinhard Kleist

Two biographical graphic novels by Reinhard Kleist, both of them tell the story of a fascinating personality in rock history and both of them are incredibly well drawn. Kleist’s art is full of life and movement and very atmospheric due to his impressive use of stark contrasts. 

I personally love his semirealistic way of drawing people and I’d highly suggest you to check out his other works too. He made a lot of biographical comics that really amazed me.

CASH

Cave

Definetly worth reading. Not only for Johnny Cash and Nick Cave fans.

6. Nowhere Men by Eric Stephenson, Nate Bellegarde, Jordie Bellaire and Fonografiks

I talked about this one a while ago but I’ll gladly do it again since it’s just too cool. “Nowhere Men” is set in an alternative past/present and future where scientists became as popular as pop stars (catchphrase “Science is the new Rock n` Roll”) but somewhere along the way something definetly went wrong. 

The hype of science shares obvious similarities with the beatlemania of the 60s and the founding of Apple back then. Furthermore, the characters are partly inspired by well-known personalities of Rock history. There are many more or less hidden nods and references to musical popculture wich is why I put it on this list.

Nowhere Men is a thrilling sci-fi dystopian that requires an observant reader because there is a lot of jumping back and forth i time and inbetween information. The art style is realistic and full of very vibrant colours.

I found myself reading this multiple times to get all of the details in the world building. A thoughtful and brilliant writing indeed. 

7. P.I.L. by Mari Yamazaki

Japan 1983: 17-year-old Nanami couldn’t be more frustrated. Her grandfather loves to spend all of their household money on useless luxury junk and her strict school criticizes her messy hairstyle. Caught between teenage rebellion and responsibility as she tries different side jobs to earn at least a little bit of money, Nanami also has a thing for punk music and overall everything originated from England.

P.I.L. tells the story of conflict between two generations who aren’t as different as they might seem. Sometimes funny and heartwarming, sometimes with a bit of drama this is a charming slice of life/ coming of age josei with a more simplistic but aesthetical pleasing art style.

as the title might suggest, Nanami is a big fan of P.I.L. and other bands of the punk, neo punk and new wave movement such as The Stranglers and The Killing Joke

8. Yellow Submarine by Bill Morrison

A comic adaptation of an animated film such as Yellow Submarine? Yeah, I was skeptical at first too but hear me out: This is really great. Morrison did an amazing job at capturing the trippy and psychedelic feeling of the legendary Beatles film. As the 1968 film used the medium of animation as an actual form of art to accomplish things only animation can do, Morrison did the same thing and used the advantages of the comic medium to accomplish things only comics can do. And it works. It really works.

Every single page of this colourful book has a different panel layout. Some of them are so beautiful and creative that I’d love to have a full-size poster version of them :’D

If you liked the film, if you love the psychedelic age, you’ll probably like the comic too. 

9. In The Pines by Erik Kriek

“In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines...”

5 Murder Ballads, some might call them dark Country Music, each of them beautifully illustrated by Erik Kriek. Atmospheric, dark and gritty and always on point to match the spine-chilling western-like storytelling of these ballads, great for fans of horror literature a la E.A.Poe.

10. Andy - A Factual Fairy Tale by Typex

Allright folks this is it:

Typex’s “Andy” is by far one of the best comics/graphic novels I’ve ever red. It defenitely is my personal favourite reading of 2019 (and tbh I kinda doubt anything will top this anytime soon)

This is more than just a biographical take on of the most enigmatic pop-art artists of 20th centuary’s America, this is a portrait of the 20th centuary itself. There are so many references to art, history, literature, music and more that I could fill a book counting them all. And of course this is a monument for the medium of comic itself. Typex really managed to show what comic’s are capable of (At this point I’m really sorry I can’t explain it better I’m not good in writing stuff like this yet...)

Visually one of the most appealing things are the different art styles Typex manages to pull off so well for every chapter in Warhol’s life because each of them are a mirror of their zeitgeist. The introduction of Warhol’s childhood during the 30s is drawn in a cartoony style of old news paper comic strips. The chapter of 1967 has a psychedelic edge. The chapter of the early 60s shows similarities with the works of Roy Liechtenstein

So many icons from the 1930s-1980s have a cameo in this graphic novel it’s just amazing. If you’re even remotely interested in anything of this time period you’d definitely should read this. (seriously, READ THIS). But at this point I’d also like to mention that this comic does not shy away from showing very explicit content and sensetive topics (please keep in mind this has a mature rating for a reason)

Yeah so I couldn’t give this piece of art enough praise. It is absolutely brilliant, a masterpiece in every sense and word.I wasn’t too aware of Typex before but appearentely he also did a graphic novel on Rembrandt. I’m gonna read this too.

Some honorable mentions:

California Dreamin` by Penelope Bagieu

I haven’t red this one yet so I can’t say anything more about it. But I wanted to let you know that a graphic novel about the life of Cass Elliot exists.

Before Watchmen: Silk Spectre by Darwyn Cooke and Amanda Conner

One of the prequels of the legendary “Watchmen” by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. It’ “only” an honorable mention because you’ll have to be familiar with the Watchmen universe to fully get all of the story. This prequel focuses on Laurie Jupeczyk, the second Silk Spectre and her own adventures during 1967, the summer of love in San Francisco.

Hip Hop Family Tree by Ed Piskor

Another one I haven’t fully red yet, but so far I’m loving it. It basically tells the history of Rap and Hip Hop from the early 70s to the mid 80s. The art style is intentionally old-school wich really fits it’s tone and setting.

Fritz The Cat by Robert Crumb

I suppose I can’t make a list like this without at least mentioning an absolut icon of the underground comix movement. Crumb created the adventures of this nasty junky cat during the 60s. Fritz can be seen as a satirical mirror of counter-culture’s zeitgeist.

and speaking of Crumb, his “Heroes of Blues, Jazz and Country” trading cards are neat too...

allright that’s it for now. like I said, if you have anymore suggestions, feel free to add ^^

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Spider-Gwen: Ghost Spider #4 Thoughts

 The very, very, very end of Spider-Geddon and...a surprisingly great issue!

Covering this comic is very strange for me because I’m coming at it from two places mentally speaking.

Firstly I’m jumping into the fourth and final tie in issue to an event comic having not read the prior three issues.

Secondly I’m jumping into Spider-Gwen, a series I abandoned long ago, back in volume 2 issue #10 to be precise, which was published over 2 years before this issue was. It also had an entirely different writer/artist team back then.

Frankly I picked this up purely because I knew Mayday and some RYV characters were going to be in it. In that regard the issue was rather pointless, they cameo and do little else.

However I’m actually glad I bothered with the comic all the same. I was expecting this to be fluff and filler at best. An insufferable worshipping of Gwen Stacy, as so many comics (including Spider-Gwen itself) was when Spider-Gwen got big back in 2014-2016.

To my delight that wasn’t the case.

I admit to being rather lost with some plot points such as Gwen having a symbiote (this was brought up in Spider-Geddon #2 but it was unexplained there too) and how exactly Gwen can transverse dimensions.

However the rest of the issue was mostly good. Now I read Secret Wars: Spider-Verse, Web Warriors and Spider-Geddon #0-5 but I didn’t read any other Spider-Gwen or Ghost Spider issues so to me Gwen’s sense of loss over Noir and Spidey-UK felt rather unearned and cheap. It wasn’t that I didn’t think she’s be upset over losing a comrade but the deep sense of loss and words towards little habits within their respective relationships didn’t ring true to me. However that may have come up in issues I didn’t read so I’m willing to be corrected on that.

But based upon my reading Gwen feeling as sad as she did was a bit of a stretch. I also felt the milking of Spidey-UK’s death from a reader point of view was questionable because...did anyone honestly love that character? Spider-Man Noir I can understand, he has a fanbase (and this issue hammered home how asinine a decision it was to kill him back at the start of this event) but Billy Braddock? Who cares really? He was used for some cheap pathos in Web Warriors and that was about it. Now that being said I did love the idea behind him being buried in Lady Spider’s dimension as she was English (although if memory serves that was never confirmed outright, she may have simply lived in 1800s New York). I did wonder where the Hell Lady Spider was throughout this event though.

The addressing of Noir’s death though was much more necessary and as stupid as it was to kill him I do give Marvel credit for having an issue which addresses that. His fans deserved at least that much, particularly I think the Noir/Felicia shippers who are undoubtedly out there. I also very much appreciated how May, MJ and Felicia had different reactions to his death respectively.

Another great thing was that the general addressing of grief, sadness and death in the issue felt respectful. It felt real even though as I said the specifics of Gwen’s relationship with Noir and Spidey-UK didn’t quite ring true. It’s like it would’ve been perfect dialogue and execution if used for another character’s death.  A small detail I especially  liked in this regard was Gwen’s drumming as a coping mechanism. One of my major complaints in Latour’s issues was how Gwen’s hobbies and passions were underused and underdeveloped. She was a drummer but that didn’t factor that much into the stories I read. So to see McGuire embrace that is as welcome as Miles’ artistic talents in ITSV.

Now I admit, those of you who recall my thoughts on Latour’s Spider-Gwen book might be calling me a hypocrite here. Because another of my frequent complaints was how doom and gloom and glum Gwen typically was in that series from the outset, yet here I’m praising that.

I think the distinction is this. Latour came out the gate defining Gwen as grieving and guilt ridden, reeling from a tragedy that happened an undisclosed amount of time ago (but still making with the yuks and gags). Not only was this tonal whiplash but it also was a shitty way to set up a new ongoing series. It began world building for Gwen in media-res of extenuating circumstances and circumstances which were incredibly derivative of Peter Parker.

Where McGuire succeeds in this issue is by having not only a distinctly different tragedy but also the benefit of this occurring both after Gwen’s world has been built up and in the aftermath of a huge event. It’s totally realistic and earned that there would be a mourning for fallen warriors after a war. It’d be disrespectful for that not to be the case; in fact it’s kind of disrespectful that that mourning happens in a tie-in issue not the main book!

By having this issue actually deal with the aftermath it re-contextualizes the prior issues of the event. Spider-Geddon as a whole was definitely a bloated poorly written inconsistent mess. But this issue as a coda treats it with the weight the main book never had. There is an emotional realism to the story even though we are dealing with something as wacky as inter-dimensional travel and totem vampires.

This emotional realism is pulled off so well you even feel a little something for Karn’s death, you even feel bad he died alone and so violently even though again, no one is a fan of that character. No one gives a shit about him.

Part of this realism comes from McGuire from this one issue apparently being an inherently better writer than Latour ever was, at least for Spider-Gwen. Latour in all this works I’ve read emphasises style, and wants you to ‘watch’ the story unfold rather than feel like you are right there with the characters. You can ‘see’ Spider-gwen is upset but McGuire takes you inside her head and writes her grief from the inside out. Latour might’ve used internal narration but he rarely pulled this off, probably because he was too busy making a clown show on the side with stupid ass Spider-Ham cameos, wacky humour about the Bodega Bandit or building up Evil Daredevil instead of you know, the ACTUAL main character.

His Spider-Gwen work felt a lot like watching things sort of just happened rather than experiencing things unfolding like in this issue.

What further enhances this story is the deliberate or accidental metatext behind the story. No I am not talking about how Stan Lee had recently died when the issue came out, though that did make me tear up thinking about it.

Gwen has been rebranded Ghost Spider (though her recap page doesn’t quite admit that weirdly) and this is an issue about Gwen dealing with ghosts, dealing with death, spreading the grim news as a reluctant messenger of death. That angle just works in this issue and if embraced would work brilliantly as a new element to the character to latch onto. In no small part because, as the issue itself acknowledges, Gwen Stacy’s legacy is inherently linked to death.

That might be admittedly a radical departure from the punk rock youth vibe the series began with, but not only was that rather squandered by Latour (with bullshit like Hipster Electro and Hipster Kraven the Hunter, go fuck yourself seriously!) but at the end of the day that vibe is perhaps rather...shallow...for an ongoing character...??????

Other elements of the issue I liked was the artwork. It’s not much like what Rodriguez was going, which was I admit very distinct and gave Spider-Gwen’s series a unique identity. But this art is still lovely and works very well for the subject matter. What is particularly nice was the different period outfits Gwen adopted as she made her travels through the multiverse. Also, though this isn’t strictly ‘art’ per se, the word balloons at Karn’s funeral have a cool moment where everyone speaks a salute to Karn and the combined word balloons look like a spider. That was just a cool touch.

My final note is that McGuire has one of the best Peter Parker moments I’ve seen in a long time, and considering the quality of Spencer’s run that is not damning with faint praise (as it would’ve been just over a year ago). In the scene Spider-Gwen and 616 Peter discuss Gwen needing some time off and Gwen asks if that is selfish. On the one hand this is a little bit derivative of Peter Parker, King of Guilt and Responsibility. On the other hand I guess most heroes would ask this of themselves. Peter Parker surprisingly gives a very mature answer.

Now this answer is very much in character and logical for Peter, but it’s also something too often writers neglect in favour of writing Peter in a repetitive manner that renders him a caricature. Peter acknowledges it is selfish but that that is not wrong, He says the world will always need saving but the heroes get to pick their battles and have to sometimes rest, that indeed they deserve it.

Though a mere moment in a story not about him McGuire writes a Peter Parker who truly feels like a mature adult, that feels like the Peter who is truly the sum of his experiences.

Were this teenage or college aged Peter he wouldn’t have been likely to say that. If it was friggin Slott’s Peter Parker definitely not (even though he’d have still gone to play with Miles in the park rather than do his actual job). But a Peter Parker who’s insanely experienced and knows his limits? Yes absolutely he’d know he’s entitled to down time and more importantly needs it. It’s demonstrative of how guilt is present in his character and yet is not the defining trait. Responsibility is, and there is a responsibility to himself. Spidey-UK even echoes such a sentiment earlier in the story.

So with all that said I must admit this issue was a tremendous triumph from where I’m standing, I’d recommend you read it and would go so far as to call it the best issue of Spider-Gwen I’ve ever read sans her debut.

Does it change my feelings for Spider-Geddon as a whole?

No, it still sucked and was still pointless beyond resurrecting MC2 Peter (which in my book makes it worth it, sorry Spidey Noir fans, I’m sure he’ll be back eventually) but this last issue took it out on an unquestionable high note.

[ryanmeft]

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse Movie Review

Spider-Man 2 set the standard for the wall-crawler’s celluloid escapes, and the movies have been trying to catch up to that ever since. Thanks in large part to poor decisions by Sony, it never came close until Marvel got a hand on the property again. The last thing I ever expected from Sony’s own spin-off movies was that they’d be any good, especially after surviving Venom. As it turns out, the soul of the character just needed animation to set it free. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is not only a great entry in the webslinger’s mostly forgettable filmography, it’s in the top tier of superhero films, period.

Miles Morales (Shamiek Moore) is a black teen being sent to a private school after winning a scholarship; his father (Brian Tyree Henry) is a by-the-books cop who struggles to understand his growing son but loves him anyway, which sounds cliche but works because the character is so well-written. His mother (Luna Lauren Velez) is unfortunately sidelined, and spending more time on her in the sequel would be welcome. He looks up to his uncle Aaron (Mahershala Ali), who shares Miles’s love of graffiti art but who is also some sort of a criminal. I mention Miles’s race because it’s important: the movie elects for a happily stable family and a smart kid with a bright future, a rare focus for African American characters in cinema. The movie is not political in the slightest, and treats this as if it’s not uncommon, because it isn’t. It’s a deliberate contrast to Peter Parker, whose life is a constant mess. Miles gets his powers with a similar spider bite and without much fanfare.

Speaking of Peter Parker, he shows up, voiced by Chris Pine, and gets in a big fight involving the Green Goblin (Jorma Taccone) and the Kingpin (Liev Schreiber), classic Spider-Man villains somewhat re-imagined for the setting. When things go wrong trying to stop a dimension-combining device, Miles lands the gig of stopping the machine from firing again, but can barely use his own powers. Another Parker (Jake Johnson), an older and out-of-shape one who has given up on life, shows up and doesn’t make a very adequate mentor. He’s eventually joined by numerous other versions. Spider-Gwen (Hailee Steinfeld), who is clearly here to launch her own spin-off, is cynical and calculating. Peni Parker (Kimiko Glenn) is an anime take on the character whose powers are actually invested in a machine that I think is piloted by a spider itself. I’ll be honest, I lost the details in the rush, but she works because she’s more homage to the form than parody. Spider-Ham/Peter Porker (John Mulaney) is sadly underutilized and didn’t really add as much as he could; there’s too many other Spider-guys for him to stand out. By far my favorite was Spider-Man Noir, a version who is almost all shadow, wears a fedora and trench-coat, and is voiced brilliantly by Nicolas Cage, who channels Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney. Indeed, the voice cast is so stuffed that Lily Tomlin and Zoe Kravitz end up in tertiary roles. Each of these alternate heroes got sucked into Miles’s universe and will see their molecules fracture like a bad radio signal if they don’t get back. For this, they seek the help of a batty-but-brilliant scientist (Kathryn Hahn), who provokes one of Parker’s best lines. Each is accompanied by a quick and humorous rundown of their respective origins, which both serves as a nice send-up of the now-tedious origin story and fills in whatever small amount of info the audience might need.

A disclaimer for those who are understandably confused about Spidey’s cinematic history: none of these Spider-People are the same one from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, that interconnected place of Guardians and Avengers. The Parker here appears to be some version of the one from Sam Raimi’s first trilogy, and considering the divided reception of that line, it’s an interesting choice (it still contains the best Spider-Man movie, and a couple lackluster ones). It matters far less than it does in the MCU, because this movie feeds more on energy, humor and heart than on continuity. To my recollection (it’s been a while), all of these characters exist in some way in the comics, but you don’t have to care. On screen, they play off each other wonderfully. The jaded Parker is like those wizened mentors from every movie ever made about a plucky kid finding his way, except this guy, while having the skills, doesn’t care. That’s a decidedly different look for Spider-Man, one that only an animated film, specifically only an animated film this unique, could pull off; an apathetic hero is just not something audiences would accept if he were the main character. The Noir version has the most potential for his own movie, as his universe is the most different from what we’ve seen before. Like Rey in Star Wars, Spider-Gwen is unfortunately given the least interesting character, but there’s room for development later. For some reason, the same people that decided we need more female heroes (which we do) also decided they always have to be---pardon the expression---the straight man. Will we maybe have a female take on Tony Stark at some point? I won’t hold my breath; the culture just isn’t there yet.

The heroes are of course opposed by the afore-mentioned villains, joined by many others: Prowler, a Batman-esque fighter, Scorpion (Joaquin Cosio), Tombstone (Marvin “Krondon” Jones III) and a surprise bonus pick who I will not mention because you should discover it for yourself, except to say this person really works while, in a way, bringing back a long-absent, long in demand foe. When machines are activated and villains are fighting, the movie does occasionally veer somewhat close to confusion, but it always recovers, with the exception of some of the villains being rather generic. Animation has unshackled the agility, speed and wit Spider-Man has always evoked in the minds of people flipping through comic panels. There’s a litheness to the movements of the characters that no amount of CG could ever replicate, and a boundless energy that the unique animation style---designed to look like comic panels in motion and, to my eternal shock, actually successful in this---works perfectly with.

Still, the most surprising thing is how the emotions carry through. Each Spider-Dude-or-Dudette has their own tragedy and loss, and the sense that no matter what universe he exists in, he’ll always have to deal with that is sadly poignant, especially for anyone who grew up on the Spider-Man mythos. There are actual stakes here; even the motivations of the Kingpin have real heft. The movie has been handled by Lego Movie producers Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, with a small army of co-writers joining along the way, and the surprise is that for once, so many cooks have managed to concoct something that feels so sincere.

If you aren’t a comic person, don’t worry. There’s enough heart here to sweep you up even if you don’t know your spiders from your bats. Stan Lee’s posthumous cameo feels fitting, in a movie that does right by his (and Steve Ditko’s) best creation. Nerds tend to declare amazing absolutely every comic movie that comes out. And every once in a while, they’re right.

Verdict: Highly Recommended (3 1/2 out of 4 stars)

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

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 All images are property of the people what own the movie.

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black Part 13/? - Mr. Neustadt Part 14/? - The Other Side of the Story Part 15/? - A Favour Part 16/? - A Knock on the Window Part 17/? - Sir Stephen and Buckeye Part 18/? - Books of Alchemy Part 19/? - The Answers Part 20/? - A Gift Left Behind Part 21/? - Santorini Part 22/? - What the Doves Found Part 23/? - A Thief in the Night Part 24/? - Healing Part 25/? - Newton’s Code Part 26/? - Montenegro Part 27/? - The Lost Relic Part 28/? - The Homunculinus Part 29/? - The End is Near Part 30/? - The Face of Evil Part 31/? - The Morning After Part 32/? - Next Stop Part 33/? - A Sighting in Messina Part 34/? - Taormina Part 35/? - Burning Part 36/? - Recovery Part 37/? - Pilgrimage to Vesuvius Part 38/? - The Scent of Hell Part 39/? - She’ll be Coming Down the Mountain Part 40/? - Stowaways Part 41/? - Bon Voyage Part 42/? - Turnabout Part 43/? - The Apple Part 44/? - Vesuvius Wakes Part 45/? - Fire At Sea Part 46/? - The Real Jim Part 47/? - Return to Naples Part 48/? - La Mela

Okay, back to the plot.  At last, the Philosopher’s Stone!

The pigeons flew off in a chorus of squeaky fluttering feathers that was almost loud enough, with so many of them, to count as a thunder.  They swirled over the city like a slow-motion tornado of birds, and then, slowly at first but soon by the hundreds, they all flew to land on and around a particular building on the outskirts of the city.

“I feel like I should be doing some evil laughter,” said Sam.  “Declaring myself the Pigeon Master or something.”

“Or you could be the Pigeon Man from Hey Arnold,” Nat told him.

“Who’s that?” asked Sam.

“It’s not a compliment,” she promised.

The pigeons had taken the direct route but the humans, of course, didn’t have that option.  They had to pile into two abandoned vehicles and find their way through the winding streets, now all but empty as the Neapolitans had fled the volcano.  They found the flock of pigeons perched all over a little palazzo that had once been the home of a wealthy family, but was now home to the Coral Palace, a museum and workshop of coral jewelry and shell cameos.

The Palazzo would have been quite a pretty building if it hadn’t been entirely covered with pigeons.  Instead, it made for a very strange sight indeed.  From a distance it looked almost as if the entire building and the empty car park outside were covered in a fluffy gray snow, with the close presence of the volcano suggesting ash, but as they got closer they began to see the birds moving.  There must have been thousands of them.  Iridescent heads popped up out of the mass, looked around, and then vanished again.

“That is probably about the creepiest thing I ever saw,” Sharon decided.

They pulled into the car park.  As they did, the birds moved out of the way ahead of them as if they were the Red Sea parting for Moses.  Sam brought the lead vehicle to a halt, then rolled down the window and leaned out.

“We made it!” he announced.  “You guys can go!”

The pigeons all took off at once, and for a moment nothing was visible except for thousand upon thousand of smoky gray feathers passing by.  Then they were gone, leaving behind a three-storey building with a pink and white columned façade.  Above the colonnade were the words Manifattura Corallo.  Everything, from the roof to the decorative architecture to the pavement in the car park, was coated with evidence of the pigeons.

“Nice,” said Nat, not bothering to hide a snicker.  She was imagining the faces of the Palazzo employees when they returned and found this.

“I’ll tell them to hold it next time,” Sam said.

They got out of the vehicles, and tried not to think about why it was slippery underfoot as they climbed the steps to the porch, where there was a row of windows.  Nat rubbed a place clean and peeked in – all the merchandise in the cameo factory showroom appeared to have been taken away, leaving empty glass-topped tables in a grand columned room with gray stone floors and peach-coloured walls.  There was nobody there.

This was a public building, Natasha thought.  How could anybody work here unseen?  Unless there was something else… something hidden.

They made their way around the back, and there they found a door with a Solo Dipendenti sign on it.  It was propped open, and beyond it was a hallway that joined the loading dock that took deliveries.  In the other direction was an employee washroom and a blank wall.

The latter showed a deep, flaking crack in the whitewash.  Nat got her fingers into it and pried it open.  Sure enough, there was a secret door there… one that had been forgotten long enough to be plastered over, but which had been recently opened.  She turned on a flashlight and found the door opened on a flight of steps.  When she turned the light off again, she could just barely see a blue light shining around the corner at the bottom.

They started down.

The wall on their left, as they descended cautiously into the dark, was smooth.  The one on the right was rougher, and when Nat shone the light on it, she saw markings where decorative architectural features, half-columns and rosettes, had once been attached.  This had once been the front of a building, before the new palazzo was built on top of it facing the other way.  In one spot, there were even some letters.

She traced them with her fingers – La Mela, they said.  The Apple.  That must be the original name of the villa.  Nat was betting she knew who had built it.

At the bottom of the steps they turned right, and found themselves in a tiny little room, almost a dungeon.  The walls were stone blocks – not modern cinder blocks but actual cut lumps of limestone – and the floor was big stone slabs.  In the middle of this was a huge bubbling cauldron, overflowing with what Natasha would have taken for dry ice smoke if it hadn’t been softly purple-blue.  Inside the cauldron itself was the source of the purple-blue light, which was not exactly bright, but it was difficult to look at, as if it would give a person a migraine if they let their eyes linger on it too long.

The cauldron itself was made of gold, glinting by the glow of Nat’s flashlight.  It stood on three legs, and between each a pipe, also made of gold, emerged from its belly.  Nat followed these across the floor into a corner, and then stopped.  There was a big crack in the floor there, as if an earthquake had broken it open, easily big enough for a person to climb into.  The golden pipes fed into that.

A ladder was also propped within the crack.  There didn’t seem to be any question where Newton had gone.

Natasha gripped the flashlight in her teeth and started climbing down.  When she put her weight on the rungs of the ladder, she felt them sag under her weight.  The ladder, too, was made of gold.

At the bottom of the ladder, twenty or thirty feet down, Nat found herself in a rough tunnel about six feet in diameter, with an arched roof and a flat bottom.  A lava tube.  Behind the ladder, it came to an end where a big boulder was blocking it.  In the other direction, it continued on at a slight upward slope.  The golden pipes continued off in that direction.  They should have been opaque, but they were glowing softly, in the same uncomfortable shade of purple.

“Do you still have your sunscreen, Sam?” asked Sharon.

“No,” he replied.  “I didn’t think I’d need it after sunset in the middle of the night.”

“If we’re all burned tomorrow we’ll blame your lack of foresight,” Nat told him.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I know this isn’t the time,” Jim observed, “but I gotta say, I enjoy the part where you guys are all giving each other shit as you’re saving the world.  It makes me feel like I’m in action movie.”

“Keep feeling it,” Nat advised him.  “In the movies the good guys always win.”

“You don’t think we’re gonna win?” Jim asked, honestly surprised.

“I’m definitely planning on winning, but it’s not a given,” Nat said.

They started following the pipes uphill.  The floor of the tunnel was crushed rock and sharp sand that would have been unpleasant to walk on had Nat still been in high heels, but much worse in just pantyhose.  At first, it just looked like stone, but as they continued up the slope, she began to catch glimpses of things glittering in it.  Eventually she stopped and reached down to pick up one of the stones.  It was no different in shape or texture from the others around it, but it was very, very heavy.

“It’s gold,” Desrosiers said.

Nat tossed the nugget away again.  “He said he didn’t want to make gold,” she said.

“The cauldron and the pipes must be gold, because it is chemically inert,” Desrosiers explained.  “Because the Philosopher’s Stone is in contact with this equipment, as long as it has no other template…”

“… the reactor will make gold,” Nat finished for her.  That must be how alchemy had come o be so closely associated with precious metals.

They kept going.  The tunnel snaked back and forth a little, it got narrower and wider, but it was definitely going east and uphill.  The further they went the more gold they found, until the stones under their feet were clinking instead of crunching, and people’s shoes began getting heavy.  Nat wondered if it were dangerous for them to be exposed to this.  Would their very bodies begin to transmute if they stayed in here too long?

They couldn’t turn back though, not now – they were here to save the world, after all.  After narrowing until they almost had to crawl, taking great care not to touch the glowing pipes, it widened out again and joined a larger channel.  The air was starting to get warm, and Natasha reached to wipe sweat from her brow.  It glinted golden as it dripped into the dirt at her feet, and she wondered if that were just a trick of the light.  In here, maybe she was literally sweating gold.

Finally, after what felt like hours walking in the increasing heat, the dust and the painful glow of the pipes, the tube opened out into a huge chamber.  Steam was rising from the ground all around them, mixing with the purplish fog and rising up to where the rocks arched above them, forming a space the size of a cathedral nave.  There might have been a couple of holes in the top to let it all escape, but Natasha couldn’t tell, because there was a huge thing hanging in the middle of the cavern.  A network of the golden pipes, arranged in hexagons and pentagons like a geodesic dome, surrounded it and fed the purple smoke into it, and in the middle was…

It was difficult to describe.  It looked like a huge round crystal, twenty-five feet in diameter, glittering with millions of tiny facets.  Inside that was a thing she could only have compared to photographs she’d seen in National Geographic, of the surface of the sun as seen through a special filter.  It was glowing dull purple, and seemed to be made of millions of tiny, squirming grains that appeared and disappeared and occasionally erupted, spewing little geysers of purple steam.  Where these touched the walls, the rocks turned from dark basalt to glossy yellow.  Gold.

“Well, hello!” said a voice.

They all turned.  Walking towards them from underneath the hovering monstrosity was Newton.

He was still wearing a t-shirt and frayed denim shorts, crocs and that beat-up green hat.  It didn’t look much like an outfit to make the philosopher’s stone in, and when Natasha compared it in her head to the image of the man in the wig and frock coat in the famous portrait by Kneller, she almost wanted to laugh.  She thought better of it when she remembered that she and her companions were all still dressed in their evening clothes, which was if anything even more ridiculous.

“You people are remarkably persistent,” Newton observed.

“We know,” said Natasha.

“We make a habit of it,” Sir Stephen agreed.

“Well, as you can see, you’re too late,” he told them.  “I have the Stone now, and I intend to use it.  ‘Nelle,” he added with a smile at her, “your advice was invaluable.  I need to use it before I can let it blow, obviously.”

Desrosiers nodded, her face calm but her fists clenched.  She caught Nat’s eye, then looked at Newton again.  “Since we’re all about to die anyway, perhaps we could give the Committee a demonstration of its powers,” she said.

[acheaptrickandacheesyoneline]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Arrow (TV 2012) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak Characters: Oliver Queen, Slade Wilson, Patience and Fortitude the New York Library Lions, Felicity Smoak Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Remember the fic I've been talking about only as IndyFic, This is Indyfic, Indiana Jones inspired, If you think you recognize a plot device or nod from somewhere you're probably right, I have stol...Borrowed so much, From Uncharted to Indiana Jones to The Mummy to Clive Cussler books to Aladdin Summary:

She didn’t plan on ever having an adventure unless it said ‘turn to page 34 to open the door’, but somewhere between being kissed in the library and running from a one-eyed man with a gun, Felicity was pretty sure adventure had found her whether she wanted it or not.

It's like The Mummy, only not really.

AN: As always, thank you to ohemgeeitscoley for comma wrangling in this chapter, and to adiwriting for first round edits. I couldn't do it without you ladies! 

Chapter art is, again, by the talented nightkeepyr   

There is a cameo appearance by one of my favorite Uncharted characters. You'll know it when it happens.

When she had asked John to rush her to the airport, she had hoped that Oliver hadn't left yet. That she would have a chance to tell him she knew were El Dorado was based on the quipu . The sight of Oliver getting into an old dual prop airplane had her racing out of the car and onto the private airstrip, trying to yell his name out over the engines.

An older man was reaching out to close the airplane door. He looked at her a moment before yelling over his shoulder, “Friend of yours, Queen?”

“Who are you talking--” Oliver’s head poked around the frame of the aircraft and his eyes widened. “Felicity, what are you doing here?”

The other guy, maybe the pilot of the plane, held a hand out to her and helped her hop into the plane. “You two wanna talk, do it. But make sure you strap in first. Only got a small window from Control for takeoff since someone couldn't wait for an actual clearing in flight space.”

He gave a shake of his head and let himself fall into the pilot’s seat.

Felicity took a seat at the window across from the door as she looked up at Oliver. “I figured out what all the knot work on the quipu means,” she yelled over the engines.

She was louder than she would have liked to be when the loud whine was cut down as Oliver closed the door. “I know what they all mean,” she repeated, voice quieter now. “The red knots are the larger mountain peaks--”

“Put on your seat belt,” Oliver said, cutting her off.

She worked very hard to hold back the huff of annoyance at his insisting on a seat belt. It wasn't like they were going to be flying while she was still on the plane. Stupid FAA regulations about keeping a belt on until they were off the tarmac. Who was going to notice if she wasn't wearing one except for her or Oliver or the pilot guy.

Given that their pilot was currently lighting up a cigar in the cockpit, Felicity didn't think that she really had much to worry about in terms of flight restrictions.

Absently, she reached for the seat belt dangling down and clicked it together. “The red knots are mountain peaks, important ones, at least,” she began again. Opening up the atlas still clutched in her hands, she pulled out the photo of the quipu she had shoved in. “Those match up with these peaks here, here and here.”

A brush of Oliver's hands over her shoulders made her shiver. Thankfully, he either didn't notice, or was too nice to comment on it and he settled back into his seat, pulling the two shoulder straps over before connecting the seat belt itself.

“I assumed the blue always meant rivers, but I wasn't sure what the knots meant,” he said.

“Maybe wide spots?”

He shook his head. “Fishing spots, maybe river mouths?” He heaved out a sigh and settled back into his chair. “It isn't like we don't have plenty of time to toss around ideas on the way.”

“Oh, no, I'm not…” Felicity trailed off, noticing the intensity of the engine sounds growing. It matched the growing dread in the pit of her stomach. As much as she didn't want to look, she peered out the window next to her.

It was indeed the ground moving past at a high speed. Which then went from horizontal, which all ground should be, to a vertical sort of feeling, pressing her back into her chair.

“Oliver why is the plane taking off?”

“It beats the alternative to not taking off, don’t you think?”  He looked her straight in the eye. His voice was so dry she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“That...that’s not what I…” He had a point that taking off was better than crashing off the end of the runway. It hadn’t been the actual question she had been asking though. She was positive that Oliver was aware of that too, and had decided to be all dry wit with her. That answered the question of was he joking or not, at least.

“Why do you have to be so infuriating,” she demanded to know.

He turned in his seat as best as he could given the harness to give her his full attention. Like the other times she had been on the receiving end of his complete awareness, it was both an amazing feeling, and uncomfortable one. There was no way she could escape him. Even if she wanted to, a small part of her mind added.

“Why do you,” he asked slowly, “keep helping me when it’s clear you don’t think I’m a good person?”

In that moment, somehow even the engines on the plane went silent.

Of course he wasn’t done though. “You have made it clear since day one that you have disapproved of me, and my attempt to find El Dorado. So why did you help me translate? Why index my notes, or come to Star City?”

“It’s where the quipu was,” she said quietly. “I didn’t come here to see you.”

He nodded, and Felicity felt a strange sort of pride as he at least conceded that point to her.  

“You have made it known from the start that you’re a librarian, that you don’t like my family, or me. That you don’t approve of what we do. What Ido.” She watched Oliver ran a hand through his hair as he tried to find words. “You made it pretty clear yesterday about your thoughts on the matter,” he said.

She didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. The edges of the atlas were cutting into her hands, she was gripping it so tight. He was right. She had been rather clear about what he should do with her shoe and his butt.

Felicity shifted in her chair and looked out the window. They weren't so high off the ground that she couldn't see the cars and houses. This was the part of flying she usually enjoyed, when everything looked like small toys. It didn't distract her like it normally did, her thoughts too wrapped up in themselves regarding Oliver's words.

She had been rather hot and then cold with him. The first time they met, it had been because of a kiss and a need for a distraction. Every time since, it had been because of her though. Felicity had made the choice to help him translate in the library, to run when Slade Wilson had attacked, not just hide.

There was no one who had forced her to bring him home to her small apartment as a place to hide, or share in take out with him while they worked to decode the journal.

One of the first things she remembered her mom teaching her was to never judge a book by its cover. It was advice that had served her well through her life, and the irony of being a librarian and working with books and covers every day was not lost on her.

Admitting to herself that she had been guilty of judging on that first impression with Oliver cut deep. It made her stomach want to twist around itself , and she wished she could somehow curl up smaller in her seat. It was even worse when Felicity realized that she hadn’t been mentally trying to distance herself from him due to their first meeting. No, Oliver had apologized right before he had kissed her, and she was the one who had chosen to talk further.

She had judged him on name alone. Based on what she knew of the Queen moniker.

Oliver had told her that night in her kitchen why he was searching for El Dorado. He wanted to be his own person, not just “Robert and Moira Queen’s son.” Here she was, doing just that. Felicity had only thought of him as Oliver Queen , rather than the Oliver she had gotten to know.

Oliver who liked greasy pizza and could eat with chopsticks. Who liked to cook because it helped him think and who left books open with the spine facing up in a way that sort of hurt her soul. She glanced down at the atlas in her lap and worked to force her fingers to lose a bit of their grip. The nail markings she was putting in the cover probably wouldn’t help anything.

He wasn’t a bad person.

At all.

She let her head fall back against the headrest and winced at the dull pulse of pain. Like the rest of the plane, it wasn’t as comfortable as it looked. Closing her eyes, she tried to work out the other part of his question: why was she here?

Working at a library was something she had really fallen into, not something she had ached to achieve. Not like her childhood dreams of becoming an astronaut and going to Mars. Which, okay, good news there, she hadn’t lost out on that yet. Not that the space program seemed to be headed that way, but it was still something that could happen one day.

Right after she got up the courage to do laser eye surgery and pigs flew, but hope springs eternal.

There was a small bit of excitement in everyday life working in the NYPL System. Figuring out what books a person was looking for based on half remembered names or plots, or running a summer course on Coding 101 for kids. It was solving a mystery.

Computers and hacking, 1s and 0s, they were always something different. It was rare that it was the same problem twice when she was fixing things.

Somehow, her work had become routine. Oh, there were fun things here and there, that was true. But Felicity couldn't remember the last time she had felt the same thrill she felt when she was helping Oliver solve the various mysteries about the journal, the quipu , the City of Gold itself.

That was why she had gone after Oliver. To get that high from adventure she hadn't even realized she had been missing. Which made her even worse than Oliver, really. He had been honest with her since the beginning about why he was doing this. She was the one who was lying about it all, and those lies had been to herself.

Given that she was on a plane ride to Venezuela with only Oliver and the pilot for company, Felicity knew that she would have plenty of time to think about why she was doing this. In the end, it hadn’t taken much longer than five minutes of actually sitting down and not avoiding the question for once. She was doing this, helping to find El Dorado, for herself. She had become just as entranced with the mystery to the point that she wanted to see it through.

When she opened her eyes again, there were only clouds beneath the wings. She didn’t know how much time she had spent in her head, but it was apparently enough for them to have gone high enough that the captain probably would have turned off the seatbelt sign and snacks would have gone around if they weren’t in a plane older than she was.

She shifted in her seat again, and carefully reached a hand out towards Oliver’s arm to get his attention. The leather jacket was soft under her fingers and clearly some sort of heavy duty armor. Oliver didn't even register she was touching him until she squeezed his forearm.

It was a very firm forearm. Not much to squeeze. Enough to get a good grip on.

Oliver’s right hand covered hers and Felicity lifted her head, startled. His blue eyes were right in front of her, impossible to ignore even if she wanted to. The bit of beard he was sporting looked softer than it had a right to, and his eyelashes were far too long for any guy to have without serious mascara help.

“Felicity,” he asked. Goodness, being on the receiving end of his full attention was not something she thought she would ever get used to.

She could feel herself starting to blush the longer they stared at one another. For the love of everything, how was it that when she needed to say something, her brain didn't want to work? It had to be him, or some sort of strange superpower he used on her.

Pulling her hand out from under his, she brushed a piece of hair from her face and looked down at her hands. “I'm sorry,” she told him.

Silence.

“Did...did you not hear me?” She had been rather quiet with her apology. “I said that I was sorry,” she said a bit louder, raising voice and her head. Felicity noted that he hadn't moved from his prior position, though he was looking confused.  

“I heard you,” he said slowly, “but I'm not sure I'm understanding you. What, exactly, are you apologizing for?”

“You were right,” Felicity said. “Before, I mean. I haven't been treating you nice at all, and you have every right to be angry at me and I'm sorry.”  

She watched as Oliver rubbed at his neck, shaking his head. “I never said that I was angry at you, Felicity.” He reached over and gently took the atlas from her hands. She made to grab after it, wanting the book shield back, but then he grabbed her hands and was completely focused on her again. “I’m just not sure why you are here when the entire time you’ve been vocal about your dislike about my hunt.” He gave her a wry smile. “I believe your exact words might have been tomb raiding?”

“I...I realized that I was going off of what I thought about your family,” Felicity said quietly. “Not about you. You’ve been clear from the start about why you’re doing this. I’m the one who kept wanting to make it about something other than finding the city and getting credit for it.”  

Her hands were getting really warm in his. And when she pulled away to grab the atlas again, she immediately tried not to notice how cold she felt. It was her fault for wearing a cute sleeveless shirt instead of her comfy airplane sweatshirt.

“I’m the one who kept inviting myself along, getting involved when I didn’t have to,” she continued. “I wanted the adventure you were having, but I didn’t want to admit that to myself. I wouldn’t be the person I thought I was supposed to be if I was off having adventures.”

“Supposed to be?”

She gave a small shrug in her seat. “A librarian. I read about the adventures, but I don’t have them.”

“What do you know about the Brothers Grimm,” he asked her.

The sudden shift in topic threw her. Apparently they were done talking about feelings while trapped in a flying death trap, which was okay with her. Really. It had been awkward for everyone involved. “Grimm’s Fairy tales,” she said. “Really, Oliver, you should know better than to ask someone who works with books who an author is.”

“Do you know how they got them? The folk tales for their collections?”

Maybe going after the goose that laid the golden eggs was the next trip Oliver was going to go on? If there was truth in the legends here, who’s to say there wasn’t a magical goose out there somewhere, popping out 14K eggs every other day?

“They went out into Germany, before it was Germany, and walked. They walked through the Black Forest, the alps. They talked to people. They traveled to Paris, through Prussia,” he continued on. “They collected these stories and then published them, and then did it again. People started to bring stories to them, but they still visited other cities and villages. Felicity, they went on adventures.”

After a moment of admiring how good Oliver looked when he was passionate about something, Felicity finally found her voice enough to respond. “You’re going to tell me they were librarians, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “They were librarians.”

“Know who else was a librarian? And ended up saving the world? Evelyn Carnahan.”

“I don’t think I know her.”

Felicity settled back into her chair, trying to hide her smile. She wasn’t sure how he had missed watching The Mummy, but she wasn’t about to let her pop culture knowledge go to waste! And it would kill time on the way to South America in a far better way than sitting in silence ever would.

Being strapped into a seat on an airplane with a five point harness was not how Felicity had expected her day to go. Into a seat on an airplane? She had planned for that, even for the lack of leg room. But it turned out that there were worse ways to spend a long flight than talking with Oliver.

Even if the bathroom was a bucket in the corner and a shout of “don’t you dare turn around” for privacy.

There were a few times that she sat with Oliver in the copilot’s chair while his pilot friend, a man named Sullivan, used the bucket. Oliver was clearly comfortable in the cockpit of the plane, and when she asked him where he had learned to fly, it led to a discussion about what their parents had taught them when they were kids.

She even got the full story about how he and Slade had started working together. Before he had lost an eye, he had been a friend of Moira Queen’s, often helping to finance some of their other endeavors. He had helped Oliver to regain his footing after the news about his parents had hit, taking him on some of his own explorations. It was during one of them that he had lost his eye, forcing him to take time to recover. He had, according to Oliver, dived deep into the myth of El Dorado, and became near obsessed with finding it; Slade became a man possessed and started to take risks he never would have before.

Those risks included the lives of people both on his payroll and not, and it had all come to a head in New York City. Slade hadn’t thought twice about killing the previous owner of the arrow head, and Oliver had hoped that by running with it, he could keep Slade from figuring out any of the next steps, and maybe the obsession would fade.

It hadn’t worked out according to plan.

They had plenty of time for Felicity to explain her discovery about the quipu being a map too, given the eight hours they were going to be flying for.  Using the atlas she had carried along, and Oliver’s notes, they managed to work out what knot represented what location. Some of the once tall mountain areas weren’t as prominent now, so it did make for a harder time decoding, but there was enough information that Oliver was able to freehand a rather impressive map of Venezuela over the quipu to narrow down their search area to where the golden knot was.

She wasn’t positive how Oliver was going to get into the middle of the rainforest without a week long hike and being eaten alive by bugs, or maybe even a panther. That part would probably come after they landed though. The packing of supplies, finding a guide. Oh, maybe Oliver would rent a jeep. Driving a jeep through the jungle always sounded like a fun thing to do.

Speaking of Oliver, he was making enough noise behind them that Felicity found herself roused out of the nap she had been taking. “Are we almost there,” she asked, turning in her seat to better see him.

“About as close as we can get,” he responded. “I’m making sure everything is packed up here before we drop out.”

“Drop out?” She had to have heard him wrong. There was no way he was talking about dropping out of the plane. Maybe pop out? Wheels dropping? Wheels dropping out made more sense. And was safer. A lot safer. Even with the plane that had stuffing coming out of the headrest, it was safer on the plane than to leave it and just sort of hope you landed without dying.  

“Aren’t we supposed to stay in your seat with your seatbelt fastened until the plane had reached the gate?” she continued. “I’m pretty sure I remember being told that when I landed in Star City. And all of the other times I have flown.”

“There isn’t a gate, Felicity,” he said, tugging the strap on the large backpack tight. He stood up to look at her. “Besides, how are you planning on getting through customs without your passport or ID?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and glared over the top of her glasses. “So your plan is to have us jump out of a perfectly fine airplane instead of waiting for it to land?”

Oliver slipped his brown jacket on before holding up what looked like a web of straps and buckles. “You’ll be jumping with me, actually. Unless you know how to skydive? I assumed you didn’t, but I might be wrong.”

Damn her for wanting an adventure.

At least she had on shoes that were good for walking.

There were probably things Felicity had done in the past that had, in the moment, scared her so much that she thought she was going to die. The only thing that even came close to falling from the sky and hoping Oliver remembered to pull a string and that a bunch of fabric would hold them was when Slade had been shooting at them back in the library.

At least during that she had  some measure of control over that situation. And wasn't staring death in the face while wind was taking her breath away and her eyes were watering, but also really dry at the same time. It had been warmer too, because it turned out that the sky was a cold place to just sort of hang out in no matter how close to the equator she was.

Oliver, of course, being the asshole that he was, hadn't even given her the count of three to prepare like he had promised. No, instead he had jumped at two, an excited whoop loud in her ear even as she tried to catch enough breath to scream while attached to his front in the tandem harness.

She had to give him credit at the fact that he landed them in a clearing in the middle of the amazon rain forest without snagging any trees on the way down. As soon as they had both touched ground, Felicity began to work the straps on her front. She wanted to get out of the harness as soon as she could, no matter how solid and warm Oliver’s body had felt against her on the way down.

Dropping the pack that held all of his gear to the ground, she was able to finally reach the buckles and wasted no time at all in stripping the harness off of her quicker than it took to fling her bra off at the end of a long day.

“I am never, ever, doing that again,” Felicity said, still trying to catch her breath.

Oliver stepped out of the harness and began to repack the parachute into the backpack. “Hopefully we won’t have to.”

Hopefully? Oh no. There was no hopefully about it. She wasn’t going to do it again. Jumping out of a plane once was one time too many for her life. Even though it resulted with her standing in the middle of the rain forest.

That part was pretty amazing. Especially given as how she had never been out of the country before, and now here she was, Felicity Smoak, standing in the rain forest to try to finish a hunt for a legend.

Standing in the rainforest in a sleeveless shirt and cute skinny jeans. Which she was going to have to hike in for who knew how long until they reached the ruins of El Dorado, or found a town or village or something where she could get better clothes. If she didn't die from the tsetse fly or malaria on the way.

The Amazon Trail game had not prepared her well enough for this!

“I don't think this is the best idea,” she told Oliver in a panic.  “You can't have packed enough food for two people and I am not dressed for any of this!” She motioned at her clothes, hoping he would understand. He had to have a way to get back out of the jungle when he was ready to, right? He wasn't just going to live in it and become Oliver of the Jungle.

Although, it wouldn't be bad for him to go around shirtless and swinging from vines.

Felicity forced her attention back to the present, grabbing onto the bag that Oliver was handing her. “I was planning on fishing for food, honestly,” he told her. “And seeing what else we might find on the way.”  Her eyes widened as he pulled out a huge looking knife--was that honestly a machete-- from his bag and waved it in her direction. “I can make your jeans into shorts if you want?”

“I think I will keep my jeans as they are, thank you,” she responded. Honestly, didn’t he know how expensive a good pair of jeans were? What was she thinking, really, of course he didn’t know. Nor did he know how hard it was to find a good pair of jeans that fit. It was like finding a needle in a haystack.

He looked at her for a moment, before giving a slow nod. “If you change your mind, let me know.” He was clearly in his element as he struck out at a brisk pace, large camping bag hefted onto his back and using his freaking machete to chop through any sort of foliage in his way.

Setting off after him, she grumbled about tall people and their long legs until he finally slowed down enough for her actually keep pace with him.

Without a watch, she didn’t have really have a lot to tell her how much time had passed since they had landed in the jungle. It felt like it might have been hours, but that could have been her completely winded and out of shape self talking. She was already close to having completely and totally sweat through her clothes, which was uncomfortable by itself, but the last straw for Felicity came when a crack of thunder startled her before the downpour began.

It was official. She hated the rainforest.

Or the rainforest hated her.

It was mutually assured hate.

The backpack of gear that Oliver had asked her to carry wasn’t helping matters either, and it was getting to a point that she was going to have to stop soon or she was just going to fall over and pass out. Walking through the concrete jungle was one thing, but it clearly had not prepared her for traipsing through an actual jungle.

Rain drops splattering against her glasses and face didn’t make anything better. As hot as the temperature was, the rain was making her feel cold and miserable.

“Why did I think this was a good idea,” she complained quietly. “I’m going to be the person that dies in the beginning of all of the adventure movies as the example of what not to do and so the hero knows that he needs to be prepared and that the audience knows it’s all serious.”

Felicity barely avoided a large puddle by skirting the edge of it, kicking at and stumbling over a few roots and rocks as she did. Only Oliver quickly grabbing her arm and holding her up stopped her from slipping off of the rain slicked bark and to the ground.

“Are you okay,” he asked after she regained her balance.

“Aside from damaging my ego, I’m fine. Just really hating that I did not prepare at all for this.” She peered up at him from behind her glasses and mentally cursed that she could barely see through them. “I am clearly not cut out for field work. Or jungle work. I could maybe do beach work, if it involved sitting on a towel and reading a book.”

With, quite frankly, a disgusting amount of ease, Oliver swung his large pack around and unzipped one of the side pouches. She watched him rummage around in it, trying very hard to not appreciate how good he was looking with his shirt wet and sticking to him.

“Here,” he said. He brushed his hands over hers, pulling her out of her thoughts of how he might look without the shirt on in the rain. “I should’ve grabbed this out earlier for you.”

Felicity took the bright yellow rain poncho from Oliver and slipped it on before snapping up the sides. The rain was still hitting her, but just the one layer between her and it was enough to make it not as awful. She pulled up the hood as far as it would go, trying to keep any more from getting into her eyes.

“Thank you.”

He gave her a smile that made her heart melt into a puddle and all sorts of other emotions curl up into a warm ball in her stomach. “Aren’t you going to wear one,” she asked, following behind him at his now far less intense pace

“I’ve got my jacket,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her. “And you’re wearing the only one I brought.”

When they made camp a while later, it turned out that he had extra clothes packed too, and offered one of his shirts for her to change into for the night while her clothes dripped dried in the tent. The parachute Oliver had carefully packed away was flung over the small tent to ensure nothing leaked through the roof.

The two had a quiet dinner made of supplies Oliver had brought along, during which he finally copped to knowing that she had been retelling him The Mummy's plot earlier on the plane.

Felicity threw one of the raisins from her trail mix at him for that.

He caught it in his mouth. As if there was any other outcome possible.

The forest around them got dark quick, and not even the full moon that she knew was overhead was able to provide much light. There was a small, hand crank light that Oliver brought out, using it to go over the map they two of them had traced over the photograph of the quipu ’s knots back on the plane.

“If we keep this pace, and I can keep us going the right direction, we should get there tomorrow no problem,” he said from outside the tent.

“It's kind of unthinkable,” Felicity called back to him, unzipping the giant sleeping bag Oliver had thrown in when she had been changing before.

“What is?”

“You and I. Finding a lost city that's supposed to be made of gold and treasure.”  She spread out the fabric to cover the floor, then rolled up into one side of it, leaving the other open for him. “You can come in now,” she said.

“I've been chasing after this myth for almost five years. It's not as unthinkable as you might think.”  He crawled into the tent, leaving his shoes outside. “I'm just dropping this in here,” he held up a small compass, “and then I'll be out of your hair.”

“Where are you going,” she asked, sitting up from her her sleeping bag burrito. Felicity tried to brush her hair out of her eyes, but the humidity had made it so wispy that it was sort of frizzing all around her face. “Are you doing a keeping watch sort of thing? You take first shift, and you’ll wake me in a few hours so you can get sleep?”

Oliver rubbed a hand at the back of his next and didn’t meet her eyes. Which she narrowed at him over her glasses even if he wasn’t looking up to see it. “I was planning to sleep outside, actually. Let you have the tent.”

“And be carried away by monkeys or a flash flood? Or what if some unknown spider comes and bites you, and then you die, and I’m stuck here because of it?”  She hated that she could hear the sound of panic in her voice, especially when she knew, logically, that she was being a bit over dramatic about it. They weren’t near the river, so it would be unlikely there would be a flood.

She was stuck on the feeling that the idea of sleeping alone in a tent in the jungle, in the pitch dark night, was causing her to have though. Mainly, total fear. How would she know if it was an animal or Oliver making noises outside, if they were both on the other side of the tent from her?

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. By staying in here,” he said, slowly moving to lay down on the furthest edge of the sleeping bag, as far as he could get from her.

“I don’t mind sleeping with you,” Felicity said, and immediately winced. “And I mean sleeping as in actual sleeping next to you in the same bed. Or tent. Not anything sexual. Not that you aren’t attractive, and I’m sure that, you know, sleeping with you would be just as nice as the actual sleeping part and I’m going to stop talking, right now.”  She let herself fall backwards and tried to burrow her way under the fabric in an attempt to hide before she had to see the look she was positive Oliver was giving her.

Why did she have to let nerves get the better of her out here and let forth a babble unlike anything that had been seen before?

“Good night, Felicity,” Oliver said, apparently taking pity on her. She didn’t answer, instead rolled up her now dry shirt to make a pseudo pillow and hunkered down further into her part of the blanket.

The tent went dark around her when Oliver turned off their light. Instantly, she was aware of every little noise and movement around her, trying not to jump out of her skin every time it turned out to be a tree branch or a fern frond that was brushing against the outside canvas.

“I hate the rainforest,” she mumbled, knowing she wasn’t going to get any sleep that night.

Somehow, within the course of the night, Felicity must have managed to not only unroll herself from her cocoon, but also bunched it up for a pillow. While still leaving enough for her to say she was sleeping under a blanket. Nighttime Yoga was a wonderful new skill and it was the only way she could think of for why she was both comfortably resting her head not on the ground, and still be covered.

She turned onto her side and tried to bury her head further into her pillow, wanting to sleep more. Or not move ever, given how sore her legs were from all of their walking yesterday. Instead of pillowy softness though, she was met with muscley hardness in the form of a body.

Her eyes popped open upon realization that she had been using Oliver as a pillow, and that was why she felt so comfy.

When she had been busy babbling last night, he must have stripped down to just his jeans, as she had a perfectly clear view of his chest and arms and abs. She felt his hand twitch against her back where he was holding her to him, and she couldn’t help but settle more fully into her Oliver Shoulder Pillow.

“I should move,” she tried to convince herself quietly. “I should move before he wakes up and I make it awkward because I totally glommed onto him while he was asleep and that was not the plan at all.”

“I don’t mind.” His voice was still raspy with sleep. Felicity moved her head so she could look at his face. He looked so pretty in the muted morning light that it was really unfair. She was positive she probably had a rat’s nest for hair and morning breath that would kill since she hadn’t brushed her teeth or hair last night.

“Waking up like this is a nice surprise.” He spread the hand on her back out, and she could feel the heat from his fingers through the thin cotton of the shirt she had borrowed from him. His pinky touched bare skin where the shirt had ridden up during the night and he began to rub the spot gently. She wasn’t sure he was even aware he was doing it, the way he was looking at her.

She made a humming noise of agreement, enjoying the moment. Oliver lifted his head and leaned towards her at the same time she began to move towards him. She felt him cup her cheek with the hand that had been holding her. “Oliver,” she said softly, opening her lips slightly when he ran his thumb over them.

“Felicity,” he breathed out.

A loud squawking noise outside the tent made her jump. “What was that?” she asked, frozen. It sounded again a moment later, from a different spot and Oliver dropped his hand from her face and rubbed it over his face.

“Sounds like a macaw,” he said after a moment. He grabbed the shirt he had tossed into the corner last night and tugged it on when he sat up, not looking at her. “They’re obnoxious out here, especially once a group of them get going.”

Felicity heard the tent’s zipper behind her when Oliver pulled it down, and it sounded just as loud the second time when he tugged it back up. “I’ll um...I’ll let you get ready. Then we can break camp and start hiking again. It’s not too far away now, based on the maps and my notes.”

“Sounds good,” she responded, trying to sound normal. Like she hadn’t almost kissed him. Like he hadn’t pulled away the moment he realized what was actually happening.  

She shook her head and reached for her jeans before starting to search for her balled up top. Of course he had pulled away. He was Oliver Queen. He had probably thought that he was still dreaming or something and that she was some leggy damsel in distress he had just rescued ala Temple of Doom. The squawking birds had broken that spell faster than any fairy godmother would have, leaving him with just her: the woefully unprepared for the jungle librarian.

Packing up the sleeping bag, she sighed. “Just because you think he’s pretty doesn’t mean he’s into you, Felicity,” she told herself. “He’s here for El Dorado. You just happened to be along for the ride.”

For now, she would focus on getting to the city, seeing the mystery through to the end, and enjoying the rush of adventure that came along with it all. With her plan in place, she left the tent, ready to start a hike she was positive would leave her half dead by the end of it.

Oliver’s original estimation of reaching where the city was supposed to be no later than mid day were sadly inaccurate. Felicity was sure that it was because he was basing his hiking time on how fast he could go, which was at a stupidly fast pace considering the terrain. He was bobbing up and down, avoiding trees and slicing through ground cover like he was personally offended by its existence. The view from behind might have been a good one, but the trail he was making was not making it any easier for her.

Her stomach was beginning to clearly make its displeasure at not being fed known, and she wondered if Oliver would kill her if she asked for another rest stop to eat so soon after the last one she had asked for so that she could breathe. About to call ahead to him, she watched as he lowered his machete and took a few slow steps forward.

Drawing reserves of energy from somewhere deep inside, she jogged towards him. She emerged out of the jungle to the rocky top of a cliff, trying to catch her breath. “What did you find?” she asked. Oh, she was so going to work on cardio when she got back to civilization.

Oliver motioned with his head, drawing her attention forward to the edge of the cliff and what was beyond.

It was overgrown, taken back by the jungle around them. But the fact that she was looking at orderly rows of buildings and half crumbled walls, partial roofs and remains of statues glinting in sunlight made it clear.

“It’s El Dorado,” she whispered. “It’s real.”

[furederiko]

He's your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man...

I initially thought I would not get a chance to see this at the theatres. So I felt somewhat lucky that I've been fortunate enough to see it yesterday, on the first viewing, of its premiere day(although I had to skip the 3D due to the ticket price)! Unfortunately, it wasn't that good of an experience, unpleasant even. I mean, that's what I got when I pre-ordered a ticket late in the game: I had to sit really close to the giant screen. I'm feeling the result now... exhausted watery eyes and stiff neck. Also, it's currently still school holiday, so I was seated between teenagers and kids who... either couldn't stop chomping food loudly, kept asking questions throughout the movie, or... just didn't have proper ethiquette towards older people. Gosh, that awkward moment made me feel really 'old' and 'out of place'. Thankfully, the movie itself was the complete opposite to that annoying real life situation. So in a way, well worth the patience I had to endure during the screening. Okay, enough chit-chat, let's get to the review now!

NOTE: This is a spoiler-free review. At the very least, it was written with that thought and intention in mind. So there's still a possibility that it contains some implicit spoilers. With that said, feel free to proceed cautiously, okay! *wink*

They should've called this SPECTACULAR Spider-Man. Seriously. Because it's indeed one! A movie that felt small and stand-alone, but firmly incorporated the titular character VERY nicely in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Afterall, that's what 'Homecoming' is all about, right? The movie began following the aftermath of 2012's "The Avengers", it then picked up right in the middle of last year's "Captain America: Civil War" for a brief minutes (featuring some fantastic larger-than-life cameos), before it became its own thing following the conclusion of that amazing Berlin Airport scene. And then several months later...

There's an honest good reason why Marvel Studios appointed Tom Holland as the new Peter Parker. And that's because it's going to be extremely hard to picture anyone else but him to embody both Peter and Spider-Man after seeing this movie. As proven over and over again with their movies, the studio certainly isn't messing around when it comes to casting. Holland IS Peter (not to mention a striking resemblance to young Stan Lee), and that's just one of the key ingredients that made this movie so captivating. There's an earnest youth-innocence exuberating from this version. An excitement that we haven't seen in both Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield's version. Not saying both were bad (theirs got pushed to adulthood too soon, I say, thanks to the actors being much older), but this one got the personality of comic book Peter in the most perfect way. Also, have I mentioned that Holland is HOT? He's so easy on the eyes, that I wouldn't doubt his Peter would make anyone (men or women, young or old) swoon. Assuming I got my memory right, I think he and his six-pack were the lenghties shirtless fan-service scene of all MCU movies so far. Thank goodness the actor's 21 years old now, otherwise that sentiment would sound really inappropriate. Pheew!

He's Peter in the most charming and geekiest way. Smart, sweet, sometimes overwhelmingly curious, but also an underdog who is ridiculed at school. Who once again reminded you, that hey, nerds CAN be true heroes too! Yes, that's the best of all! Just like the deepest inner desire that some of us shared, he's just THAT eager to become a hero. He's a dreamer, who looked up to the Avengers, and wanted to do good to be among their ranks. But being 15 years old, a student in a high school, things weren't as easy as one might think. When he has classes and after school programmes, would he even have time to be a crime fighting hero? One that placed his life on the line numerous time, while deep inside, still struggling with the sensibilities and struggles of growing up? That's what this movie succeeded to explore, making it feel... 'different' to the previous MCU movies.

The supporting characters, were also fantastic. Marisa Tomei's May Parker, was more of a sexy older sister than an elderly aunty. It's a modern change that felt just right for her, especially in this era of feminism. But as always, she was also Peter's emotional anchor. Particularly in one scene that... well, I'm not spoiling anything, but let's just say, had Holland showcased his specialty in moving dramatic performance. Those who had seen "The Impossible" would know, that Holland could really made it possible. On the other side of the table, Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark played out as the kind of mentor, big brother, or surrogate father that Peter aspired to. Peter tried so hard to please his good side, and in a way, that's one of his focus in this movie. That's why his presence could be felt looming around the background. Contrary to what people assumed though, Tony wasn't in the movie that much. It was Jon Favreau's Happy Hogan who actually spent more screentime and connection with Peter. So nope, before you accuse Stark of stealing another character's movie, that's not the case. He had just about right amount of screen time, and the movie was wholly Peter's from start to end.

Jacob Batalon's Ned was a charming chubby sidekick. He's as excited as Peter, and shared a sweet chemistry with him that would make you wish you're their best friend too. Not trying to sound racist, but it's nice that we're getting another support character that's not black. I mean, that's certainly a pattern in the first two Phase of the MCU, right? Laura Harrier's Liz was the love interest, who as always, ended up becoming a damsel in distress at some point in the movie. Zendaya's Michelle on the other hand, was the weird girl who's out and about, and seemed to be tailing Peter for... unknown personal reason. She didn't have much to do, but likely because she's being set up for expanded involvement in the sequel(s). Tony Revolori's Flash was Pete's bully, but not in the way you think. He's a modern-type 'hater' who harrassed people with words and attitude, and not through muscle. And then there were other minor characters, filling up the school as either students (Abraham Attah, Tiffany Espensen, Michael Barbieri, etc) or teachers (Martin Starr, Selenis Leyva, Hannibal Buress, Kenneth Choi, etc), building up a truly diverse looking environment. It might feel like a crowded cast, but really, most of them only had small participation in this movie. But you know what I really love about the portrayal of this high school? That in a technology-based MCU, science IS the cool thing. For crying out loud, even the cool kids were the smart achiever ones, and the Academic Decathlon's its MVP! Unlike the typical high schools we saw in various TV shows (filled with actors sometimes too old to be students), this one personally felt more at home. Looking familiarly similar to the place I've went to all those years ago, it sure didn't take a while before nostalgia slowly kicked in.

One might argue that the villains weren't really 'that threatening' here. Particularly the Shockers: Logan Marshall-Green's Jackson Brice and/or Bokeem Woodbine's Herman Schultz. They felt like lower-tier 'bad guys', especially when compared to say... Ultron, or Loki, with their global-level annihilation ambitions. Nevertheless, Michael Keaton's Adrian Toomes was a truly intimidating antagonist, who would conquer the scene with his chilling presence. He firmly sit as one of the best MCU antagonist we got so far, just NOT the way you might think. In a strangely relatable way, situation somehow forced him to be one, placing him on the other side of the law. Not just him, but his crew as well, because most of them couldn't even be considered 'evil'. There's a moral ambiguity of why Toomes did what he did, an amazing angle that made him different to previous bad guys. You'll particularly see about this during the third arc. I sure would love to see more of him in the future, but Keaton's only contracted for one movie so far. Beside, without being too oblivious, there's a high possiblity that Michael Mando's character will be taking that spotlight in the sequel. Likely alongside Michael Chernus' Phineas Mason, who was the technical-brain of the Vulture.

Thanks to these antagonists, the action-pieces, while making such grandiose spectacles as usual, felt different this time around. It was intense, nervewracking, and many other emotions I couldn't describe. Surprisingly, it put me on the edge of my seat most of the time, due to how personal and sometimes intimate they were. There's a desperation in these scenes that made my heart racing, a sensation that strangely reminded me of that last battle on "Civil War". Perhaps because this Spider-Man is young, and that he made honest mistakes that led him into trouble instead? Or because his life and those around him was truly put in jeopardy every single time, as if jumping straight into a tank full of sharks? A real sense of danger? I couldn't tell. One thing for sure, you might think you've seen it all from the trailers (which are still best avoided, IMHO), but there's way more to that. I can assure you, the complete sequences were still unexpected and shocking to watch.

In the end, just like James Gunn's "Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2" that arrived three months ago, the sensation of "Spider-Man: Homecoming" was a little difficult to properly describe. Both movies had some jokes and humors that didn't land with the audience I was with, but mostly because they were lost in translation. "Vol. 2" felt personal to me, but "Homecoming" also felt relatable in many ways. It's all kinds of emotions, a roller-coaster as one would expect from an MCU movie. And this movie was a down-to-earth adventure for the web slinger, that's still loaded with plenty of surprises one after another, big or small. It even saved one really GOOD one at the closing minutes of the movie!

Devoted Marvel fans will be thrilled with how Spider-Man is perfectly captured, while gleefully scavenging those many easter eggs sprinkled throughout the movie. Ones that connected to the larger MCU, or those teasing what might be coming ahead (Angourie Rice's Betty Brant and Donald Glover's Aaron Davis, to name a few). Meanwhile, general audience will be delighted to see this, as a genuine high school movie disguised as a superhero one. A coming-of-age movie, where its lead character learns to deal with the challenges of being young, his lack of experience, responsibilities of being a hero, and the cost of trying to do good. As shown by Peter's powerful decisions in several key scenes of the third arc, it's also a movie that reminded its young (both by age or at heart) viewers to never lose sight of what's important: kindness and compassion. All I can tell is, that director Jon Watts truly nailed this movie, and now I can't wait to see him progressing with the same 'everyday hero' magic in the upcoming sequel (set for 2019).

The collaboration between Marvel Studios and SONY to include Peter Parker in the MCU was like a dream come true to Marvel fans. More than that, it truly has been proven to be THE right decision. Here's hoping they will further extend this wonderful deal to the future, because I honestly feel, Spider-Man is where he's supposed to be. HOME...

Overall Score: 8,5 out of 10 PS: It's common sense for an MCU movie, that there will be post-credit scenes. And as publicly reported, this movie had two, with one of them teasing for the sequel. That second one, though?! Dang it... it's a sweet 'cap off' that will leave you smiling as you walk out of the theatres. Seriously, don't miss out on that! LOL.

This review had gone through minor adjustments and corrections to make some points clearer on July 6th, 2017, 09:10AM (local time).

[movietvtechgeeks]

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An Emotional Home Run for 'Supernatural' 1211 Regarding Dean

This week’s Supernatural made me emotional before we even knew what was happening, simply because I knew that this was it – the Dean loses his memory episode. The tiny preview clip shook me weeks ago, and then I asked Jensen about it at a recent con. Would it break my heart? He said that it at first would make me laugh, but then… His silence spoke volumes. He knows how much I adore the fictional character he plays, and I’m quite certain he knew the scene with Dean in the mirror was indeed going to destroy me. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s just say I was looking for signs of the impending amnesia even before they came, which made the opening ten minutes full of trepidation. That doesn’t mean I didn’t also laugh. A LOT. One of the reasons I’m certain that Supernatural is the best show ever is its brilliance in combining humor and angst in a single episode – sometimes in a single minute! This episode accomplished that repeatedly. Dean chases the witch, gets hexed by the witch, kills the witch, wakes up with a bunny. (Why did he wake up with a bunny? Who knows. Does writer Meredith Glynn love bunnies? Was somebody’s pet bunny on the soundstage that day and wanted to get in on the action? Does Jensen Ackles have a secret fondness for rabbits? No clue. I assume it refers to Dean’s rabbit comment in the previews. At any rate, it was adorable.) Ackles got ample room to exercise his comedy elbows…. I mean skills….in this episode. The face he made when the woman walking with her baby in the stroller looks aghast at him and gives him a dollar made me giggle even as I was dreading what was going to happen. Was that Kevin Park’s beautiful dog Kuma making a cameo appearance with the dog walking guy? Padalecki also got to show off his considerable comedy skills as Sam initially believes that Dean was on a bender and thus can be both bemused and annoyed at his lapses. Dean eats waffles, gets slapped by a woman he doesn’t remember, almost pukes over a murder victim with bags of bloody money pulled from his stomach…just another day for the Winchesters. And then things get not at all funny. Dean can’t remember which key to use to start the Impala. Oh god. This is the writing of someone who understands exactly what makes Dean DEAN and also knows how to rip my heart out. I half expected Robbie Thompson to peek out from behind an office door. (And yes, this is my highest compliment). To destroy me further, he then puts the car into reverse and crashes her into a newspaper stand. The icing on the cake? Sam: Dean! Dean: Who’s Dean? OMG. Let me pay Meredith Glynn another compliment. Many of the best stories I’ve ever heard about the Winchesters haven’t been on the show – they’ve been in fanfiction. I told Jensen the day I asked him about this episode that the amnesia Dean or amnesia Sam trope is one of my favorite flavors, but that it also kills me every time. That’s what I was hoping for from this episode – that it would live up to the amazing stories I’ve read that tackled this trope. And guess what? That’s what I got. Dean is in denial at first, insisting he’s fine – because who wouldn’t do that? Who wants to believe something as truly horrifying as the thought of losing your mind? Losing yourself. I’ve worked with people struggling with memory loss, and it’s profoundly terrifying. Lose your memory completely, and you’ve literally lost yourself, your identity, your ability to love or be loved. I can think of few things more terrifying. This episode, and Ackles and Padalecki’s brilliant acting played on that terror perfectly. Dean forgets the word for lamp, which in itself could be funny….almost. Sam puts a post-it note on it to remind him. Soon the room is covered in them. Sam alternates between being frustrated with his brother and starting to feel desperate and helpless, which Padalecki evoked perfectly. Finally, Sam calls Rowena. Rowena: Is he all smooth from the neck down, like a candle… Sam: I don’t know! And I’m not checking. Me: Darn. It’s getting less and less funny, as Sam turns around to find that Dean has disappeared. He just went out for ice, but even that simple thing is no longer simple – Sam is frantic, searching and calling out ‘Dean!’ until he finally finds him, trying to get into the wrong room. I think that was the point that the parallels to real life memory loss started to hit me. If you’ve ever witnessed someone going through something like that, it’s heartbreaking – and terrifying. And this episode got it so very right. They retrace Dean’s steps from the night before hoping to kill the witch and break the spell. With dizzying speed, the show veers back and forth from humorous (Dean, looking heartbreakingly innocent and about five years old, exclaiming “That’s awesome” when Sam tells him that witches and vampires and monsters are real and that they kill them), to heartbreaking, as Dean loses memories again and again. They eventually find the woman who slapped Dean in the bar and get a description of what he was up to and can’t remember the night before, which involves four shots of tequila and Dean riding Larry the mechanical bull. Dean: (hopefully) Was I good? Waitress: You were amazing. Sam: (eyeroll) The waitress apologizes for possibly taking advantage of a roofied Dean, which was a nice inclusion. Then the brothers review the video camera tapes from the night before and see Dean chase the bad guy out the back door. Dean: (attempting to read his own lips): No salsa real mittens… Sam: (exasperated) You can’t read lips. It’s funny, but it’s so not! Sam and Dean continue to retrace Dean’s steps into the woods, while Sam tells Dean who they are and what they do. That in itself was heartbreaking, Sam sounding like the big brother for a change. Dean, in his place of innocence, listens and then exclaims “Best job ever!” Sam doesn’t agree, citing all the grim realities. Dean: I don’t know, we kinda sound like heroes. Me: Damn right. Meanwhile, the dead witch’s siblings find his body and Rowena appears at the motel to help. Or to get her hands on the powerful spell book that the witch family have in their possession. Or maybe a little of both, if you love Rowena like I do. Dean: Your hair’s so bouncy! Rowena to Sam: Do we have to fix him? Sam entices Dean to sit down on the bed (actually he just grabs him by the shoulders and puts him there) with a promise of Cinemax. Dean’s selective memory interprets that as Skinemax, which he’s apparently quite comfortable with while Sam and Rowena are there too. It turns out to be a cartoon, but Dean has already forgotten what he was promised, so he smiles with pure joy and OMG I don’t know whether to laugh or start crying. Supernatural is often an emotional roller coaster, which I both love and hate, but this episode really delivered on that wild ride. Rowena makes it clear – to Sam and to us  – that Dean won’t just lose his memory of his past. He’ll lose everything. He’ll forget who he is, how to do everything – even how to swallow. Dean Winchester will die. From the bed, Dean: Sucks for that guy. Oh god. My heart. Sam’s heart is clearly breaking too. Sam: I’ve watched my brother die. But watching him become…not him. This might actually be worse. Seeing the person you love most in the world slipping away, unable to do anything to stop it? I’ll say. This episode hit hard for anyone who has had to lose a loved one little by little, as many of us have. Almost too hard at some points. Sam takes Dean into the bathroom for some privacy and tells him their life story. Their shared history. Who Dean is, what he’s done. Dean: I can feel it, slipping out of my head. Sam: We’ll figure it out, okay? We will. How many times has Dean said that to Sam? *clutches chest* Then Sam leaves to go out and try to save his brother’s life. And that? Is what I live for. Dean faces himself in the mirror after Sam leaves, in the scene teased in that preview that made me so full of fear. “My name is Dean Winchester. My brother is Sam. My mother is Mary Winchester. My best friend is Cas.” He repeats it, each time more haltingly, each time struggling more to hang onto the awareness. And as we watch, we can see in heartbreaking detail that Dean is losing the battle. I’ve been blown away by Jensen’s acting many times during the course of twelve years of Supernatural, but this was one of those scenes that blew me away all over again. No wonder he wouldn’t reassure me that it wouldn’t kill me. It did. According to Ruth Connell, in one take we even got the One.Perfect.Tear ™ Rowena is left to babysit Dean, which she doesn’t seem to mind at all. Rowena never has a confidante who she can tell the truth to; she’s always too careful, too busy manipulating other people and trying to protect herself to just be real with anyone. That takes a toll after hundreds of years, I’m sure, so having someone who won’t remember it to confide in is a rare opportunity for Rowena. She tells him a story of the witch family who rejected her, back when she was lonely and desperate and – as she would put it – pathetic. Another glimpse of who Rowena is and how she got to be that way, which only makes me appreciate the character more. There’s a vulnerability to her that Connell has shown us glimpses of from the start, and that makes her so much more interesting. Oh and apparently Rowena has her own history with the British Men of Letters. Hmm. Sam, meanwhile, is being a big damn hero. When Rowena warns him that the witches would sooner use his skin as an outfit, he cocks his gun and replies, “They can try.” Damn. Is it hot in here? He breaks into the witches’ house but unfortunately gets taken down. And tied up. It’s like old school Supernatural! When the witches incapacitate him and Sam starts screaming, Dean and Rowena are on the other end of the phone. And Dean, who at that point does not even remember his own name, hears his brother scream in pain and yells into the phone: SAMMMM! That was it. If I’d been standing, I would have collapsed. Dean has forgotten everything, even who he is, even his own name. Everything but that one word, that one person. Sam.  He yells it as Dean Winchester has done a billion times since Supernatural premiered, and it carries so much meaning that it nearly destroyed me. All the kudos, Meredith. All the kudos. Dean wakes up in the Impala, a post it note telling him his brother has been captured by a witch, and to STAY, while Rowena goes inside to try to save Sam. Dean still, on some level, being Dean, does not stay. He opens the trunk and is treated to Sam’s post it notes all over it, and at this point, I could not NOT laugh. On the trunk? OPEN ME. On the gun? THIS GUN. Next to it? WITCH KILLING BULLETS. On the grenade launcher? A big NO! Oh god, Show. I love you so. Dean bursts into the house just in time to save Rowena from the wicked witch, and then Sam and the other witch come downstairs. Dean, unfortunately, has no clue who to shoot. But Sam knows what to do. Sam: (pointing to himself) No no no, brother! (pointing to other guy) Witch! Boom! Dean shoots him (instinctively knowing to trust Sam’s voice, I wager) Rowena works her magic from the spell book, and Dean and Rowena descend the stairs a little while later. Sam: (still looking heartbreakingly anxious and so very hopeful): Is it done? Dean: (deadpan) Who’s this hippie? You can literally see Sam beginning to despair, in an amazing piece of acting by Jared. I started to tear up as I watched, just from the emotion on Sam’s face. And then Dean bursts into laughter, along with Rowena, proving to Sam that he does remember by recounting a silly childhood memory to break the tension. If I were Sam, I would have clocked him one (and then hugged the shit out of him), but I’m not Sam and Show has been really good to me tonight but not quite THAT good. So no brother hug, but we do get a classic Sam and Dean talk over the hood of the Impala moment, so I’m still pretty damn happy. Sam: Not funny. As they chat over the Impala, Sam says it was nice to see Dean looking happy, with all the burdens lifted from his shoulders that knowing what they’ve been through puts there. Dean disagrees. Dean: Was it nice to drop our baggage? Yeah, maybe. Hell, probably. But it wasn’t just the crap that got lost. I mean, it was everything. It was us, what we do, all of it. So if that’s what being happy looks like, I think I’ll pass. That conversation reminded me of the end of one of my all time favorite episodes, The French Mistake. Sure, they could have stayed there, where there were no monsters. But they wouldn’t have been Sam and Dean. Sam: We’re not even brothers here, man. And that pretty much says it all. So the Winchesters drive away. All this time, I’m wondering where the scene is of Dean riding Larry. Cue the music of ‘Broomstick Cowboy’ and there it is, a video montage of Dean looking happy and innocent and riding a mechanical bull. I didn’t know the song, so at first it struck me as purely happy, but then again, it’s a country song, and that means heartache can’t be far behind…. Sure enough, the ending is a twist. “Soon you’ll be a dreadful thing – my son, you’ll be a man.” Woah. Chew on that one for a while, fandom. A paean to Dean’s childhood, lost too soon to hunting and his father’s quest for revenge? Or just a reminder that Dean does still hang onto the ability to find some joy in life, and he refuses to regret the life he’s chosen? I was left an emotional mess after that roller coaster of an episode, but you know what? I didn’t mind one bit. That’s the sort of episode that made me fall in love with this Show and these characters. I felt profoundly grateful to be gifted with an episode and actors’ performances that can still make me feel so much. Thank you, Show.

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