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notveryglittery · 4 years

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birthday prince (3)

summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off. words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts) read on ao3

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“Best two out of three.”

“I thought this was a birthday gift!”

“Yes and?”

“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”

“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”

“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”

“On shoot.”

One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.

Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.

Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.

Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.

“You good with Hercules?”

“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”

“Phil is not a sidekick!”

“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”

“No! I mean. Maybe?”

Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”

“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”

“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.

As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.

Apparently, however, Virgil had.

Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.

With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.

“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”

“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”

“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”

Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.

“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”

“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”

“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”

Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”

Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”

“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”

“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”

“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”

It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.

“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.

“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.

“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”

Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”

“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”

Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”

“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”

“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.

“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”

“It’s fine—”

“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”

Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.

“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”

If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.

Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”

He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.

When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.

“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”

“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.

This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.

“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”

After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.

They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.

“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”

“Vee—”

“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”

For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.

“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”

Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”

“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.

Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.

#sanders sides fan fiction #prinxiety #prinxiety fan fiction #roman sanders #virgil sanders #gifts for roman's bday #dani writes

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thebibliomancer · 4 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #208: Eve of Destruction!

June, 1981

“From eons past comes the world’s most savage warrior... THE BERSERKER LIVES AGAIN!”

So this is the Berserker!

Hm. He looks somewhat less impressive as some Roman looking dude as opposed to a shambling vaguely human shape of rock and undying fury.

But I’ll give him a chance to impress in the actual book.

So last time: Wonder Man was working on a cowboy movie, badly, when he got the Avengers call that it was Avengers time. A new island had appeared in the middle of the Mediterranean and the only inhabitant, the Shadow Lord, made the US navy look like fool chumps. The Shadow Lord captured Wonder Man’s publicist Rachel Palmer and explained his whole backstory to her.

That his people the Earth Lords moved to an island, mastered the four elements, and became very concerned with an immortal Berserker so hit him in the face with a volcano. But since it was a dick move to wipe out several towns to get one guy, the Earth Lords disbanded except for Shadow Lord who had to stand watch for two thousand years in case the Berserker came back. And then the Berserker came back.

Instead of fighting the Berserker, Shadow Lord ends up fighting the Avengers a lot and then they beat up his city and then he dies. He wasted his entire life but he feels pretty okay with leaving his responsibilities to them.

This time: world’s oldest man causes problems on purpose.

He’s spry though.

And apparently between issues he chipped off all the rock, found a shield and spear, and also murdered an entire regiment. He’s been very productive between issues.

But he’s got more murder to do because he’s got to show off his sick skills before the Avengers show up so that its more impressive when they survive his sick skills, unlike all these poor dead Italian army people.

So he’s being attack by tanks and planes. And that just makes him scoff at the cowards attacking him with projectiles. Scoff in English.

I don’t know how he knows modern English. The Shadow Lord explicitly learned English out of Rachel Palmer’s brain to explain how he could speak it and then next issue, a guy that’s been buried under rock for two thousand years just pops out speaking English.

If both of them had spoken English with no explanation, I wouldn’t have even noticed. Comics be like that. Aliens speak English.

Anyway, his shield has an aura that turns metal to dust before it even strikes it. So he blocks a cannon shell without much fuss. And the plane on a strafing run gets his spear, which flies up and slices it in two. And then he pulls out what he calls a Cerellian power-sword and swings it, releasing a searing beam of energy which rips open the ground a hundred yards away to bury some tanks.

So he was buried in lava while carrying some sweet gear, apparently.

And it is very sweet gear. But the man himself was described as dangerous and dammit I don’t see it yet.

We pivot sharply over to the Avengers on Shadow Lord Island where the Shadow Lord again tells the Avengers to carry on his mission and gives Rachel his necklace before dying again.

And then, because Rachel got the exposition last time but no main characters did, she recaps his deal. Including the part that the Avengers already know, like how they beat him.

This is some clunky exposition but I’m the one who always complains when comics don’t establish enough context for me when I’m picking up random issues in the middle of a story.

Captain America asks Rachel, since she’s the new expositor, who the Berserker is but she decides that can wait. Its much more important to hold a funeral for the Shadow Lord.

And perhaps its the mistimed insistence on due to the dead when they can bury an ancient Avatar after stopping an ostensible threat to the world that explains why the Avengers give the funeral their full passive-aggressive 110%.

So on an island that’s soon to collapse into the sea, Wonder Man finds a rock to use as a headstone, Iron Man digs a grave with his repulsors, Vision carves several slabs of rock, Jocasta fuses them into a coffin, Beast carries the coffin over to the dead Shadow Lord, Captain America puts him in the box, Wasp carves an inscription on the headstone, and Scarlet Witch uses her power to change the probability that the grave won’t fill itself in. Which I find the most passive-aggressive move of all, for some reason.

And then the Avengers all gather around and bid farewell to a man that they accidentally killed.

Only after they’ve done all this does Rachel decide to tell them-

Nope.

After all of that, she says “I could tell you but it will be much clearer if you see it for yourselves... in the pool of memories.”

Ffs, Rachel.

So she takes them to the pool of memories, which was apparently something Shadow Lord showed her how to use off-panel.

Geez, the best stuff keeps happening off-panel.

And luckily, when the Avengers leveled the city, they didn’t quite manage to break the pool of memories. Which isn’t a pool. Its a fancy bowl of water.

There’s no reason why it couldn’t have been a pool, artist Gene Colan.

Or: once it was drawn as a bowl why didn’t you change it to something accurate but still with a cool sounding name? Vessel of Memories. Or Font of Memories. Bam, its a bowl with water in it, intrigue!

Anyway, Rachel dips a finger into the memory water which is definitely not pensieve because it predates it by nearly twenty years. This causes a flashback to queue up in the water and for it to start monologuing directly into the Avengers’ heads.

“What follows was culled from the memories of the Berserker himself. Listen carefully. The fate of the world may depend on it.”

So. Wait.

I know its called the Pool of Memories and I know that the Earth Lords were magic enough to remotely erupt a mountain. But does the Pool of Memories contain all memories in the world? Because that’s fairly impressive and just a bit creepy! Or does it just contain the Berserker’s memories since the Earth Lords were stalking him a little bit? How did they get the memories? Its going to turn out that the memories in the Pool of Memories way predate the Earth Lords so how the heck does this all work??

Come back to life, Shadow Lord, and explain your Font of Exposition!

Anyway.

SO! The Berserker goes back to prehistoric cave man times.

He was the sole survivor of a war party against another tribe and he had to run from them and was cornered near the “Cave of Glowing Walls.” Which is a cave. Which had glowing walls.

None who entered had ever returned but between the being beaten to death by clubs that you know and the death you don’t, Pre-Berserker picked the unknown.

“His pursuers laughed at his folly as he went into the cave. Inside, he saw the walls themselves emitting a horrible, unearthly light -- and the reamins of all those who had preceded him.”

“Within moments he too was felled by the lethal glow. He felt the life draining from him. But he did not die there. He was different from the others. Slowly, tortuously, he crawled to safety.”

“His nearly lifeless body tumbled down the rocky slope outside the cave... only to arise hours later, now surging with incredible power -- power bestowed upon him inside the cave of glowing walls!"

Okay. So. At this point I have to ask.

Is this just Vandal Savage? Is this one of those serial number filed off things so the Avengers can fight Vandal Savage?

Anyway, Pre-Berserker brushed himself up, marched right back to that enemy tribe, and killed the entire thing. For the cave also filled him with an unquenchable fury.

An unquenchable, undying fury.

Because he stopped aging.

And because he was always being extremely pissed and killing, people started calling him the Berserker.

And one day, much, much later, he was doing his favorite activity of killing in the city of Sumer when he caught the eye of a nobleman who thought to offer him money for him to kill specific people.

This turned the Berserker’s life around. It had never occurred to him that killing people was a career.

From that point on, he had direction to his life. He wandered the world as a mercenary and apparently was there and shaped history.

He helped set up the dynasties of the pharaohs. Helped with Alexander the Great’s conquests. But it gets even more bonkers.

His reputation became so great that actual factual aliens from another world showed up to hire him.

“At first he cringed in superstitious fear before these alien creatures... But once in battle he discovered that he enjoyed killing foes there as much as back on Earth... a feeling that would be oft-repeated as his exploits took him to scores of other worlds. The destinies of empires -- of entire planetary systems were decided by who hired him first.”

Been there, shaped history. IN SPAAAAAAAAACE.

And his space jobs paid him in sweet gear. And now we know where he got his sweet gear.

What I don’t understand is why he went back to Earth at all?

Yes, he probably could have conquered the Earth with all his sweet space gear. Maybe probably. Marvel’s kitchen sink goes back a long way. Turns out there was a Ghost Rider who ghost rode a flaming mammoth.

But either way, the guy didn’t have the ambition to do that. He was perfectly happy as long as someone paid him to murder people. Preferably in sweet gear that helped him more efficiently murder people.

He comes back to Earth and joins the Roman legions but why? He got to travel planet to planet to different battlefields and shape empires that spanned star systems. Shouldn’t Earth feel kind of small after that?

But he has to be on Earth and joining the Roman legions otherwise how could the Earth Lords get wind of him and scheme to hit him in the face with a volcano.

That was established last time so now we need him to reach that point. Even though the newly established intermediate points make that endpoint suddenly weird.

But it be like that sometimes.

The Font of Exposition runs out of backstory just as the city runs out of ‘still existing.’

So the Avengers and Rachel rush into the Quinjet and fly away just as the city falls apart into the sea.

Gosh, I’m sure glad we spent time doing an elaborate funeral for Shadow Lord when his grave is now spilling into the ocean.

Rachel gets frustrated that all the evidence for this scoop that she rushed into danger for just sank and that she’s going to be a publicist for bad movies forever.

Simon “Wonder” Williams counters with ‘hey at least you’ll still have a job’ considering he bailed on filming to go do superhero stuff.

And indeed we see Merriwether T. Fenniwell, telegram man, delivering a telegram to Avengers Mansion.

“Mr. Williams.

Due to unexplained absence from set of Guns of the Gunman you have been replaced. Find yourself another job and another agent.

Sid Sterling

Star-Maker”

Your mistake there was not telling anyone you were going and why, Simon. You possibly would have been fired anyway. But you only have yourself to blame for not even making an attempt. Geez.

Anyway, don’t feel too bad for Simon. Back on the Quinjet he’s apologizing for being rude to Rachel on the set, saying he was just frustrated with his own lousy acting.

And Rachel slips her hotel key into his pocket and tells him to make it up to her by coming by for dinner.

The original plan was to drop Rachel off at the film set before going to look for the Berserker but whoops, they find him first.

“The Avengers gaze in awe at the scene of carnage and devastation below them -- a scene reminiscent of war or natural disaster. But this bloody tableau was crafted by no clash of armies nor by earthquake or flood. It was created by... the Beserker!”

When they find him he seems to be digging a hole in the ground with his super space spear.

Logically, Beast and Iron Man knock him into the hole.

That’s the smart move, right?

No.

The Berserker had been digging up a space chariot pulled by space robot horses. And I like to think that the Avengers knocked him right into it.

I do wonder about how the chariot ended up buried and how the Berserker found it so quick. I’m not worried about how it still functions perfectly after two thousand years. It be like that in comics.

Anyway, the space chariot has more to recommend it than just not having to feed or maintain it for two thousand years. Its also got a demon mouth carved in the back that leaves a trail of fire as the chariot flies. Yeah, also its a flying chariot.

And its not mundane hot fire. Its force field space cold fire. Uh, so basically think the tron light cycle walls.

Because the Berserker flies circles around the Avengers to enclose them in a cage of non-burning fire.

The fire does still consume oxygen and apparently the fire cage is air tight so its going to burn up all the oxygen inside and asphyxiate the Avengers.

Well, Vision and Jocasta will be fine. Oh, and Iron Man. He has his own built-in respiration system. But the rest will die and that’s a bummer.

THANKFULLY IRON MAN IS WONDERFULLY AND BIZARRELY PREPARED FOR THIS EXACT SCENARIO.

If this specific ability ever comes up again, I’m going to lose my shit because its so specifically tailored to this plot. I love Iron Man’s ridiculous swiss-army armor sometimes.

So you know his shoulders? Those things on top of his arms? Kind of a raised area on his armor?

Those are apparently epaulets and they’re ‘break shoulder in case of asphyxiation emergency.’ He rips them right off to pull out two emergency oxygen cylinders.

The idea is that the breathing Avengers will pass the two cylinders around judiciously and hopefully they’ll last long enough between everyone that the fire cage will burn itself out.

Which does happen. Good job, Iron Man.

Meanwhile, Berserker has scooped up Rachel because “this woman is but a reward that is a great warrior’s due.” Yeah, he’s that kind of immortal guy from prehistoric times. And also he’s been under rock for two thousand years.

Rachel protests being damseled, which honestly two times in as many issues isn’t great, but Berserker is like ‘hush i’m working’ and then he blows up St. Giovanna’s Cathedral, just because he can. And then he blows up a town, off-panel, to reveal a secret city that Caesar built to honor him.

Geez. How much stuff does he have buried around here?

The Berserker lands his space chariot and decides that two thousand year is a long enough vacation so he needs to get back to his work because if you love what you do, truly you’ll never work a day in your immortality.

Berserker: “The instruments of war may change over the centuries, but the nature of man never does! I shall easily sell my services -- as always -- the the highest bidders. Then will the land be once again awash with the blood of millions that will fall under my sword... and once again the planet -- nay the entire universe -- will know and fear the greatest warrior that ever lived!”

Like I said, he loves what he does. And is probably the best at what he does and it ain’t pretty?

He also tells Rachel to go inside this building that's been buried underground for two thousand years and put on some proper raiment.

I gave the space chariot a pass. It’s from space. But Rachel finds and puts on a dress that should have decayed a very long time ago. Is it a space dress? Its probably a space dress.

But the space dress decolletage prompts the Berserker to notice and recognize the necklace Shadow Lord gave Rachel.

When Rachel tells him how she came about them, Berserker is like ‘lol eat shit the Earth Lords, mine now’ and steals the necklace from Rachel to wear for himself.

And then the Avengers show up for some more action sequences.

Or, lets be honest, more chances for the Berserker to show off his sweet space gear.

He blows up the ground beneath the Avengers’ feet with his power sword, sending several tumbling into the Earth.

When Iron Man rays him with a repulsor, the Berserker smirkingly no-sells it, informing Iron Man that his fancy armor is actually fancy space armor.

Berserker: “Ha! The tyrants of Aturak IV built this armor to withstand a proton cannon. ... Surely it can handle the bite of a mosquito!”

Geez, not just repulsors, he’s also proofed against Iron Man’s mightiest weapon?

And then he follows it up by throwing a dagger at Vision. Vision scoffs that he’ll just go intangible and let the blade pass through. But, of course, its a space dagger, from the Arkossian system.

It sticks in intangible Vision and starts draining his energy.

For not knowing anything about the Avengers, he’s doing a good job at making them all look like chumps, with sweet space gear that seems selected to thwart them.

And that’s part of writing a credible threat, I suppose. Having said threat able to pose a decent challenge. But playground style ‘I do this’ ‘Nuh uh, my guy is immune’ doesn’t always make enthralling fight scene.

Anyway, speaking of selectively thwarted, Iron Man finds himself magnetized to Berserker’s shield. And whatever metal approaches Berserker’s shield must yield.

It has that metal disintegrating aura and apparently magnets.

Iron Man manages to pull away somehow, but the shield short-circuits one of his power pods (those roundy things on his hips) which knocks the armored Avenger unconscious.

And then! To add insult to injury! Berserker’s shield magnetically steals from his pocket the hotel key Rachel gave Wonder Man and disintegrates it. Guess Wonder Man isn’t getting lucky tonight.

But he is having an idea. One of those epiphany ideas where an unrelated but thematically similar or adjacent happenstance or utterance makes you figure out the whole thing.

A key happening reminds him of how the Shadow Lord could unlock a Shadow World and would not that imply a key?

So while Wasp does Berserker the first injury this whole fight by zapping him in the face (and then getting swatted, alas) Wonder Man grabs for the necklace Berserker took from Rachel.

Wonder Man tries to figure out how the pyramidal amulets on the necklace fit together but gets sword smacked by Berserker who doesn’t appreciate someone tugging on his new bling.

But the Avengers pull off some good teamwork combo attack.

Wanda uses her powers to make the probability that some columns will fall over be 100%. Captain America throws his mighty shield and the Berserker yields right into the path of the falling column. And Jocasta melts the falling column to try to cover him in molten rock, which is the one thing they know works.

But I suppose that a mere falling melting column doesn’t compare to an entire volcano or maybe he spent those 2,000 years thinking of exactly what to do in this situation. Because Berserker swings his sword above his head, diverting the molten rock away from him.

And then Berserker drags Jocasta into his metal disintegrating shield for trying to give him a hot shower.

He’s apparently familiar with or at least not too surprised at the concept of robots. He’s been to space, after all.

He also decides that rather than hold her against the shield until she completely disintegrates, that he’ll dunk her in the molten rock she had tried to use on him.

Beast finally climbs out of the hole that I assume he’s been in this whole time and tries to tackle Berserker but the guy just slams Beast into Scarlet Witch.

And now its just Captain America vs Berserker. Which of course means that Captain America is going to make a Thing of it.

Captain America: “Alright mister -- it’s just you and me now. And so long as one Avenger stands -- we’re not defeated.”

He kicks the energy space power sword out of Berserker’s grasp to Berserker’s surprise but Cap notes to himself that doing so sent a shock from the sword through his boot. Guess his soles aren’t rubber.

And since Cap got to say a cool thing, so does Berserker. Although substitute ‘cool’ for ‘kinda hurtful.’

Berserker: “Bah! A weapon is only need to battle a true warrior -- you are certainly less than that!”

And then Berserker slams his shield into Cap’s head, knocking him out. How ironic. He who lived by the shield was knocked out by the shield. Really makes you think.

Now all the Avengers lie sprawled unconscious at Berserker’s feet. And now that they’re unconscious, he can actually walk back some of the smack talk.

Berserker: “In truth, they were fine warriors but even they were nothing next to my power!”

I had been wondering. I wouldn’t think that he’d have fought many people like the Avengers in the past times. Maybe IN SPACE. You got the Kree and the Shi’ar up there.

Anyway, when I said that all the Avengers lie sprawled unconscious, I spoke in error.

Wasp was only stunned and now she’s been overlooked what with all the full-sized people lying about.

Her strategy now that she’s alone on the battlefield with the guy is... she flies up to him and zaps him in the face.

You did that last time, Wasp! And like last time, he just whaps you out of the air! With his hand this time, not a space energy power sword. But then he decides to step on you, deciding that she’ll be the first of the Avengers to die.

Yeah, he doesn’t seem much for the ‘they were honorable foes, I’ll let them go so I can fight them again.’

However, now Wonder Man is up and he rushes Berserker to grab at the necklace again.

Berserker unveils one more sweet space gear. He grabs Wonder Man’s wrists and uses his gauntlets to sap his strength. So even though Wonder Man has super strength (that whole thing about how he punches as hard as Thor’s hammer hits), he’s getting weaker and Berserker is getting stronger.

But in a very comic booky way, he summons up all his remaining strength for one last effort.

Wonder Man breaks Berserker’s grip and grabs the necklace. This time he manages to make the pyramid go into the other pyramid, pulling the wearer -- Berserker -- into the Shadow World.

Wasp recovers one more time and since she half knows whats going on, decides to make it so that the trip is one way.

She blasts the necklace, shattering the pyramids so that it can’t be used again.

Berserker: “I’m disappearing... this cannot be... the Berserker cannot be beaten...”

And then he’s gone. Never to darken Earth’s doorstep again. Trapped forever alone in an empty the shadow realm.

Yeah, this was his only appearance. Kind of a shame. I don’t think he’s a unique villain but he was fun. Being a long-ago sealed evil that doesn’t even really want to take over the world, just get paid, gets bonus points from me. Its less generic, anyway. Plus, he had an absurd arsenal and his limited ambition means he’d have been great muscle for another villain.

Not sure I buy him as a threat to the whole world but he’ll do a lot of damage on the way.

Both him and the Shadow Lord were almost too interesting to be one and dones.

Anyway. I can’t get over what Wasp says when Wonder Man congratulates her for figuring out his plan to trap the Berserker.

Wasp: “I’m glad I helped... but I’ll never forgive myself for destroying such a beautiful piece of jewelry.”

Sure, Jan.

Anyway, when the rest of the Avengers wake up, Wonder Man explains it all. How he figured out that the necklace was a key from what the Shadow Lord said when he gave it to Rachel and that the Shadow Lord entered the dimension at sunrise so logically the gate could only be reopened at sunset (???? how did he figure this out? And also what? And why?).

Since he apparently had to run out the clock, he used his unholy ... ACTING TALENT to take a dive when Berserker clocked him and then pretended to be knocked out while the rest of the team got the shit beaten out of them and almost died. “Luckily for us all, it worked.”

Wonder Man: “Too bad Mr. Bertolini wasn’t here to see it. It was the best acting I ever did!”

Rachel: “You sure had me fooled, Simon. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

Oh. So. I guess the scene at the movie set was to set up this... character arc? For Wonder Man. That he’d learn to do an acting and use it to resolve the conflict.

The dramatic irony though is that his ass is fired off that movie for leaving to go on this journey of self-discovery slash fighting some ancient dudes.

Oof.

Follow @essential-avengers if you think acting is just as important as lasers in being a superhero. Or for other reasons. I’m not picky. Like, reblog, comment. These are also actions. That are important to being a superhero. Maybe.

#Avengers #essential avengers #Wonder Man #Wasp #the Berserker #Jocasta #Iron Man #essential marvel liveblogging #Captain America #Scarlet Witch #the Vision #Beast #what a servicable two parter this was

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katef-m · 7 years

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California, month six | that great strong land of love

Apartment twenty, early January 2017. C arrives in a rainstorm, late the first evening, and we brew tea immediately. The new place is a mess: floorboards awash with scattered q-tips and dustballs and broken clothes hangers, strange objects huddled in corners (a china monkey money box, an elephant-shaped watering can, a half eaten bag of cough drops, a dented can of chopped green beans), the rooms heavy with the cloying odour of a four-week full bin. All day I'd cleaned and unpacked. I wiped, dusted, sprayed, filled bag after bag with rubbish, and swept the floors with a plastic orange brush I bought at the Japanese dollar store. When I'd arrived that morning, shoulders burning after carrying my bags up to the second floor, it took all my willpower not to sink into the bottom bunk's bare rubber mattress and sob. Everything was so dirty, and I was adrift in unfamiliarity again. But instead I put on some music, rolled up my sleeves, and got to it. By the time C's at the door, the rooms are a little more habitable, and when I hear her moving about in the living room, putting the kettle on, it already feels like home. Peace and sun, those first few days. Golden hour is ridiculous from the window of our new room. Last semester I could see the Sather Tower and used its hourly peals to structure my day; now I can watch the hills behind campus, the way they reflect the sun at dawn and dusk, the way the small houses at the top wink in the dark. Day trips to the city. Waiting for the bus with 7-Eleven coffee and donuts. Loafing at the top of Bancroft with thermos flasks as the sun dips. It's warm enough to sit outside, though you'll need a scarf. It doesn't feel like any January I know. Getting tangled in freeways on the first few half-marathon training runs. Saturday afternoon at the farmers' market. Everybody outside in warm blue. Herb bundles in bicycle baskets, a girl in dungarees with fruit under her arm, that sort of thing. Fresh bread and sunshine. So far, January in California feels like April in England, and I am very much ok with that.

When Trump's sworn in nobody wants to look. I'm at work, anyway, and I have to make smoothies for a bunch of Trump supporters. The peanut butter scoop shakes in my hand. Later we race down Telegraph towards Oakland to catch the tail end of the inauguration day protest. Police in riot gear wait along Oakland's peripheries as the protestors head towards the city centre, yet all is peaceful: downtown we're met with free pumpkin pie, not tear gas or stun guns. The air isn't charged the way it was on election night, not raw with pain, yet the voices are louder, more defiant. The following morning we make signs from cardboard boxes raided from the recycling bins. NASTY WOMEN UNITE. VIVA LA VULVA. GRAB 'EM BY THE PATRIARCHY. The San Francisco bus is full of students: it almost feels like a school trip: there's not much traffic on the bridge: a parade of children forced on a pro-life march drift past the bus windows and we all get angry: and then we're in a one-hundred-thousand strong crowd at Civic Center, a damp fierce knot of umbrellas and battered signs and fists. It's International Women's Day. In the dusky rain we march and sing, and are filled with hope. 'I refuse to call him president,' says the elderly lady sitting next to me at Caffe Strada a few days later. Solace, as ever, is sought in the words of my favourite poets. Thousands of miles away in Australia, Bruce Springsteen speaks out against Trump's Muslim Ban. 'America is a nation of immigrants,' he says, 'and we find this anti-democratic and fundamentally un-American'. And then there's Langston Hughes:

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed -- Let it be that great strong land of love

Alternative coping mechanisms are also available: homemade cocktails (White Russians and hibiscus gin), playing every song that ever existed, dancing on chairs into the wee hours. Federer winning the Australian Open, his eighteenth slam at the age of thirty-five. Saturday evening at the marina with friends, sitting on the rocks by the water to witness a sunset too beautiful to hold on to. Faces and hair lucent with golden light.

Most of all though, a visit from my mum. Spring semester is relentless. The workload is final-level-Tetris heavy. 'I don't know what I'm writing,' I complain to C one night. 'I'm two letters into a word and I don't know what it's going to be yet.' Classes almost doubled, I take the early morning shifts at work. The alarm's set for that pre-7am no man's land, but as a night owl, sleep is unavoidably sacrificed. I learn to survive on five or six hours, but this hallmark of adulthood won't stay with me long: as soon as school ends and life slows down in June, my nine hour nightly dosage resumes. For now, though, daily life has changed hugely. Yet the change itself occurred unnoticed, giant and silent in the corner of some room I might've walked through once. I no longer have time to burrow deep into the frivolous recesses of my brain; every scene passes by too fast, like trying to take a picture from the window of a speeding train. I think I like it this way, though. It's true: the busier you are, the more you do, and the more you do, the more you want to do. Mum arrives the night of the Milo Y riots. As I open belated Christmas presents in her Airbnb apartment we hear the rumble of helicopters over Telegraph. My social media feeds erupt with footage of fires and bangs. 'Berkeley's not always like this,' I feel compelled to point out more than once. The streets are scattered with debris and people smoke against makeshift wire fences, eyes bright, bodies still charged. Walking to work the next morning, the physical effects of the riots are clear in the cold eye of dawn. Anti-Trump graffiti embellishes the walls of the bank, a building made 'riot-proof' in the sixties. On campus, trees are singed black at the tips, the Amazon locker room windows smashed in, and the hulking jumble of burned tech equipment sits sooty in the middle of Sproul Plaza like some kind of contemporary art sculpture. Mum's staying in the 'Purple House', a wood-walled ground-floor apartment in Elmwood. I love staying there with her, love the non-student perspective on Berkeley life it provides. We shop in Whole Foods and cook together, finish morning runs with coffee. I show her the campus, the streets, the city across the bay. I introduce her to my friends and my favourite bus routes. She keeps me company on coffee shop study dates and buys me the enormous slice of apple pie I've been eyeing all year. It is a special twelve days.

After days of rain, the sun returns and Mum finally sees the California I've been raving about, the clear blue skies, the dazzle at the ends of streets and hilltops. We spend her final weekend in San Francisco. Resistance posters have appeared in windows both sides of the bay, and in the Mission District, Four Barrel's coffee cups come stamped with the words 'Resist Fear, Assist Love' in rainbow ink. Catch the bus to Haight-Ashbury. Get coffee at Stanza, or Flywheel, which sits at edge of the neighbourhood where Golden Gate Park looms dark. The Goodwill store is messy, and 80% junk, but if you hunt hard you'll find things at a tenth of the price of other Haight thrift stores. There's a real good bookstore somewhere along the street: you'll find it. Buena Vista is all steps, but catch another bus a little south, as the roads start to climb. It'll only take you halfway up; when you alight, follow Twin Peaks Boulevard as it snakes uphill, and eventually you'll reach the carpark and viewpoint at the top. Most people drive up to Twin Peaks but it's better to watch the view unfold gradually, angles and gradients shifting, until the rusted tips of the Golden Gate Bridge poke out above buildings and cloud to your left, and the entire city arranges itself around you, better than any virtual map could. You'll finally understand the confusing geography of San Francisco, how the multiple grid systems shuffle against each other, the dance of streets and hills. You'll note the physical relief of the landscape, from the smooth natural contours of the earth to the tall stubbed cluster of the financial district. The white buildings shine pristine in afternoon light, so that the entire city looks celestial. And all of it held by the water beyond. From the peaks of the city, move to its edges: ride the Muni all the way through Sunset out to Ocean Beach, and watch the sun sink softly into the water. Everybody will stand motionless on the sand to watch, as if it's a drive-in movie. Colours will drift about and alter the look of the water, sand, and air. Deep sky blue, viridian, turquoise, champagne pink, peach, apricot, tiffany, pale indigo. To heighten the liminal magic, you have the beach's routine haze and majestic scale: the height of the waves, the sand's expanse, how the scene looks both stretched out and zoomed in, like so much of the American landscape.

* * * Songs: month six Fluorescent Adolescent / Arctic Monkeys Get Lucky / Daft Punk Wild World / Cat Stevens Christmas in February / Lou Reed Pacific Theme / Broken Social Scene Stolen Dance / Milky Chance Mother & Child Reunion / Paul Simon * * *

California so far:

California, month one | in and out of the game

California, month two | the dust settles

California, month three | your lows will have their complement of highs California, month four | throw comfort out

#USA #Travels #California #berkeley

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