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“When you look into my eyes
And you see the crazy gypsy in my soul
It always comes as a surprise
When I feel my withered roots begin to grow
Well I never had a place that I could call my very own
That's all right, my love, 'cause you're my home”
Billy Joel
Opening night at the Mainz Christmas market
To all who visit and view, and – especially – express support and satisfaction: you are much appreciated!
Weihnachtsmarkt Mainz: Nikolausmarkt am Martins-Dom: Von der Heunensäule in ihrem Festgewand gehen sternförmig Lichterketten über die Markthäuschen, das sieht weihnachtlich aus
"Someone call an ambulance!" I yell out, but it falls on deaf ears, as everyone runs away in a mass panic.
Uh oh, it looks like I've made the poor little spider mad! Goblin says in a mocking tone, as he throws pumpkins at me. Webbing them all up, I quickly throw them into the air, to which the pumpkins explode just seconds later. Grabbing a knife from its sheath, Goblin lunges, trying to stab me. I stumble in trying to dodge him, but it's enough that the knife goes over my head.
"You know Halloween was a month ago right? Which means you can put those pumpkins away!" I notice myself putting pressure on my left foot more often than my right. Webbing his feet, I bring him overhead, and slam him down in front of me.
So I guess it's too late to ask for some of your blood? Goblin wheezes upon getting up. I feel my spider sense tingling, as his glider comes from behind me, trying to skewer me. I leap onto the glider, while it's on auto pilot.
"Why? So you can make a clone army of me? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks." After a couple of seconds of silence, I speak up once more.
"Do you even have a license to fly this thing?" I lean forward, trying to maneuver the glider. When that doesn't work, I jump off, before the glider collides with an abandoned taxi. I swing over to Marla Jameson, and feel for any sign of life, but all I feel is cold skin, devoid of any life. I can feel my spider sense going off, so I'm able to avoid Goblin's knife, and go to roundhouse kick him. Goblin ducks, and injects a needle into my left arm, draining blood.
Awh man, my glider!! Ah well, at least I have what I came for. Thanks! The Goblin smirks, before he presses a button on his belt. Seconds later, a broom arrives, and he climbs on.
"You're not getting away that easily!" I yell, before attaching a webline to the back on the broom as it lifts off the ground. This is going to be a bumpy ride, I can already tell. All of the sudden my phone rings, and it's Harry.
"Hold up a second, I gotta take this." I say to Goblin, before picking up the phone with my open hand. Oww, hurts to hold on to the webline with just one hand.
Harry: "Peter, hey man. I heard you're doing better.. Congratz man! Sorry for not visiting, but I've been- busy."
"Thanks man. That's totally understandable. It's all good. Everything going okay with you?"
"As good as things could be now. I'll be okay, at least for now. Hey, you busy? It would be nice to hangout with someone other than Bart Hamilton." Makes sense, he has spent lots of time with Dr. Hamilton recently, working through the accident.
"I'd love to! Unfortunately I made some other plans, but rain check?"
"Yeah... Sure. Where are you anyway? Hearing some strange noises."
"Oh this? I'm just watching an action movie. Lots of explosions. Not Michael Bay level, but pretty close."
"Guess I'll leave you to it then.. See you later Pete." You can feel his disappointment, and sadness through the phone. I feel bad, I really do. But I kind of have bigger problems now. One with goblin like features. I hang up, and focus on the fight ahead of me.
Ignoring me already? How rude. Guess I'll just have to do more damage then. With his open hand, he starts throwing pumpkin bombs at the streets below, as we enter the city. Letting go, in free fall, I start swinging, following Goblin, while also taking care of the bombs, throwing them back at Goblin. The broom's surprisingly slow though, as I'm able to keep up with it, all things considered.
This thing hasn't worked quite the same since that kid Jack O Lantern took it out for a spin. Can't go any faster unfortunately! This is the first time I have seen Goblin angry
One of the pumpkin bombs explodes right underneath Goblin, which is enough to send the broom, along with Goblin, crashing through a window, into a building. I swing through the opening in the window, and notice Goblin get off the broom just in time, and rolls out-of-the-way. Getting up, he sprints to a painting, and places his palm on the right side of it. Part of the wall slides open, and he enters. I web zip myself inside the secret room, just as the opening's about to close. Inside is an arsenal of pumpkin bombs, along with gliders, and other gadgets. Looks like there's a few alternate suits, one of which looks oddly familiar from the many DND sessions I've played with Harry. Guess it makes sense for someone calling themselves Goblin though. Seems my groaning made too much noise, as the Goblin turns around to face me.
Got in at the last second I see! You know, we could've avoided this mess if you had been more cooperative. But alas, you weren't, and here we are. I had hoped that we could be friends eventually, maybe even leading to us taking over as the Kingpins of New York City, but you for some reason always have to end up playing the hero. He throws a pumpkin bomb at me, which is filled with smoke. Trying to find my way to him through the smoke, I feel my spider sense go off, but it's too late, as I get punched and kicked various amount of times before I'm able to webzip myself to the other side of the room.
The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water-spout. Down came the Goblin, and took the spider out!! The Goblin sings, as the smoke starts to clear.
"I'm pretty sure that's not how it goes!" It's still hard to see where it is, but with him singing, it's fairly easy to figure out where he is. I try to keep on the move, getting in hits when I can, using my webs to get distance from him. As I swing away, he grabs something from his pouch, and throws it. Within seconds, my weblines cut, and I go crashing into the wall. Goblin walks over to me, as I'm struggling to stand up.
Time to learn who you truly are. The man behind this mask. Within seconds, my mask is pulled off, my identity exposed to the Goblin. He takes a few steps back, as I can see the shock on his face.
P-a Parker??! The voice sounds different, even though it's still coming from Goblin.
Of course... How did I not see this before? I mean, it's so obvious. That day at Oscorp, when you were bitten by that spider. That's how it all began.
Peter Parker, you have to finish this. Before I- he hurts more people. I know it's not your fault for what happened to Harry, you did the best you could, given the situation. Please, don't tell Harry about this. He always saw the best in me, and I don't want him to spend the rest of his days hating me. I just needed a cure, for all this madness to end. Take care of him okay? Make sure he doesn't end up like me.
ENOUGH! It's time you go back into your cage Norman. You never did have what it takes. The Goblin fights with himself, moving closer to the opposite wall.
"How is this even possible? You put a bounty, on your-" I pause mid sentence, before the realization settles in. "Project Chameleon.."
Phew.. Here I was, worried you were an idiot. In a world full of gods and monsters with superhuman abilities, you really think changing ones appearance is that difficult? He was happy to cooperate, given the right motivation. Anyways, that's enough of that. My spider sense starts to tingle. I turn my head, to notice one of his gliders flying towards me. I'm able to flip over it, but doing so results in Norman getting impaled by his own glider. The green from his skin fades, and sure enough, it's Norman Osborn. The man I saw as a third father of sorts, at least when he wasn't doing secret experiments at Oscorp.
"You? Of all the people it could've been, it was you.. My best friend. You're Spider-Man. You lied to me!" A voice says. I turn around to notice the entrance to the room open wide, with Harry sitting there, in his wheelchair.
"Look, Harry, I can explain everything."
"GET OUT!" Harry yells, interrupting me before I can say anything more. Harry moves to his father's side, as I leave the room. The fights won, but at what cost? First Uncle Ben, then Marla Jameson, and finally Norman Osborn. People keep dying, because of me. Now Harry knows I'm Spider-Man, and will probably never talk to me ever again. Battered, and bruised, with tears throughout my costume, I make my way home. Felicia's going to be so pissed that the costume got ruined already. I don't know how much of this I can take. Honestly, it may be better to hang up the tights. Never be Spider-Man again. At least that way, I wouldn't lose the relationships that matter the most to me. New York's got enough heroes as it is.. It doesn't need a Spider-Man anymore.
I came to the city to lights holding dreams in my heart.
It has been a while since my last dream, I wonder why I stopped dreaming?
I found a caterpillar of a Variable Checkerspot (Euphydryas chalcedona) butterfly on native Woolly Blue Curls (Trichostema lanatum, Lamiaceae) in the the woods today. It seems to be making some webbing. These checkerspot caterpillars typically feed on "scrophs" -- plants that used to be in the Scrophulariaceae plant family. It's curious to find this one on a shrub in the mint family, but I've found them here before, see this photo and this photo. (San Marcos Pass, 21 March 2024)
Mens black finish watch with orange hands and hour marks and an orange nylon webbing strap resting on a rocky surface.
A blast of electricity soared through the sky, webbing out into multiple projectiles. The red and black figure known as Spider-Man noticed, choosing to dive towards the attack. Pulling in his arms and legs, conforming his body into that of a bullet, soared through the gaps of electricity, startling the attacker, Electro.
Spider-Man, the costumed hero known by many, but secretly the forgettable Peter Parker, senior in college. Today was Graduation day, Peter's ceremony starting in mere minutes, though an attack from the villainous Sinister Six caused a delay.
Doctor Otto Octavius, the brilliant scientist and bioengineer, now known as Doctor Octopus. Corrupted by his need for research and knowledge.
Quinten Beck, the former number one special effects artist in Hollywood and praised stuntman. Using the moniker of Mysterio for fame and glory.
Adrian Toomes, a once amazing engineer who fell victim to Norman Osborn's greed. Now adorning his winged-suit, Toomes became what Norman berated him as, the Vulture.
William Baker, a discharged marine exposed to highly radioactive sand, altering his body at the atomic level. Now broken by his own decisions, the Sandman lives.
Sergei Kravinoff, a renowned Big Game Hunter who has made it his life's goal to take down Spider-Man. With his equipment and enhanced strength, he became Kraven the Hunter.
Max Dillon, an ex-Oscorp electrical engineer who was given metahuman abilities when a capacitor malfunctioned and exploded. Motivated by his lust for power, Electro was born.
Peter's curled back arm shot forward as he reached Dillon, the connecting punch sending him flying towards the ground. Flipping mid-air and launching a line of webbing, the hero pulled himself to a nearby rooftop.
"Gotta work on your aim, Zappy," he shouted down to the man, who was recovering from the hit. "Those A.O.E shots aren't doing you any good."
"Then allow me," boomed a voice, an echo effect trailing the words.
Peter turned his head to a large figure rising from the ground, smoke encapsulating him only revealing a clear crystal dome.
Peter quickly leapt off the building, diving headfirst into the large body of mass. Once he breached the figure, his body hit an object inside. Tumbling out of the smoky object were Peter and Mysterio. The two rolled along the street before Peter leapt up onto his feet.
"C'mon," quipped Peter, rolling his shoulder, "don't you think I know all the tricks in that fishbowl by now?"
Peter moved his hand out, reaching for the magenta cape that the helmeted villain wore. As his hand made contact, volts of electricity ran up his arm, causing him to leap back. Peter looked down to the now fried web shooter on his right wrist, then looked back to Beck.
"Electrified cape," announced Beck, taking a bow as he stood. "Pair it with a simple carbon monoxide to dull your senses and it becomes a rather deadly combination."
"Yeeep," groaned Peter, still in pain from the defense. "Edna would be proud."
Beck chuckled, "I'll actually miss some of the banter we have. Too bad it's your end."
As Beck lifted his arm, a small canon raised from his gauntlet. Peter quickly moved his hand forward, using his broken web shooter. The moment the device was activated webs blasted out of the nozzle in a large triangle, Beck being launched backwards with webs covering him head to toe.
"Huh, didn't think that would work," mumbled Peter, discarding the broken shooter.
The sound of wind rushing behind him caused Peter to turn, barely dodging the dive-bomb attack from Vulture. Peter recovered from the roll, watched as the winged man soared around in the air.
"Hey, Adrian?" he called out, not hoping for a response. "Little bit of a warning next time? You could've taken my head off."
"That's the idea!" shouted Toomes, diving back in for another strike.
Peter once again rolled out of the way, this time recovering quicker and launching a webline onto the man. With a harsh pull, Toomes came crashing down into the concrete of the road.
"That's a clay pigeon if I've ever seen one," noted Peter before feeling something on his feet. Looking down, his eyes widened at the sight of sand swirling around him. "Oh shit."
A hand made of sand burst from the pile, grabbing onto Peter by the ankles. As it began to drag him, the voice of Sandman rang through the street, "Tough luck, Spider."
The hand eventually dragged Peter to a mound of sand, replacing Baker's legs. The hand pulled Peter to be face to face with Baker, the hero hung upside down.
"Alright, Marko…" before Peter could finish his sentence, the hand began to fling him around, crashing into buildings and objects on the street.
Peter felt pain shoot through his body with each moment of impact. He tried to look around, only having seconds before his body was slammed against something else, hoping to find something to use against the enemy. His eyes lit up upon seeing the red cylindrical object protruding from the sidewalk.
"Hey Marko!" he shouted, the man stopping for a moment to hear his words. "Drink up!"
Baker tilted his head in confusion, until Peter pulled his extended arm towards him. His eyes widened as his head turned to the right, only for a jetstream of water to blast him away.
Peter was dropped to the floor as the wet sand began to crawl back to its originator. He was able to stretch his back, but as he did footsteps were heard behind him.
Peter openly sighed, "Queue the jungle music."
As he turned, Kraven the Hunter stood, spear in hand and slight smirk on his face. "I'm glad you know of my presence," noted Kravinoff, readying his spear. "It makes you that much more of the ultimate prey."
"Your presence?" Peter asked, slowly matching Kravinoff's movements of circling each other. "It's just deductive reasoning, not like Otto is gonna be second to last to show himself."
"Doctor Octavius will not get the chance to show himself," announced the man, rushing forward in the blink of an eye. "You'll already be mounted on my wall!"
Peter sidestepped from the spear attack, narrowly ducking the follow-up swing. His arm shot forward, Kravinoff backpedaling from the swing. Twirling the spear, the hunter jutted his weapon forward, attempting to stab Peter directly in the stomach. Peter intercepted the spear, slamming his elbow down onto the wood and breaking it in half. Kraven quickly adapted, breaking the metal tip of the spear off, creating two batons. Peter raised his forearms, using them as shields from the various fast strikes coming his way.
"So… um…" stumbled Peter, trying to throw off his opponent. "How's the brother?"
"Dimitri," Kravinoff started, ducking under Peter's attack, "will be broken out of prison as soon as you are dealt with."
Kravinoff then swung both of the batons inwards, striking Peter on each side of his abdomen. With an upwards strike, the batons performed an uppercut-like attack, hitting Peter under his chin. As Peter stumbled back, Kravinoff removed a carving knife from his back. As he took a step forward, Peter stopped his dramatic recovery. Shooting a web to the dropped batons and pulling on them.
As Kraven was tripped and hit the ground, Peter shot a large web onto him. "Nice attempt," he noted, much to the dismay of the webbed villain. "Might've worked too if your boss wasn't incompetent."
As he spoke, he felt his Spider-Sense return to him at full force. Before he could react, a claw gripped around his back, lifting him into the air. As the claw rotated, Peter could see Doctor Octopus staring him down.
"Oh," Peter wheezed, the claw gripping him straining his breathing, "hai, Otto. How've you been?"
"An incompetent boss," spoke Octavius, his expression non-altering, "as you would say."
Peter nervously chuckled, "Well, you did send them at me one at a time."
"You may be agile," noted Octavius, shifting his arms to move him towards Kravinoff, "but your stamina will eventually run out."
"Should've discussed that one with your mom, Otto," spoke Peter, hoping to antagonize the man. "She could've told you… I last as long as I need to."
Octavius grit his teeth, "Well then, let us see how you do in round six."
Peter was dropped from the grasp, gasping for a few seconds. His eyes watched Octavius cut the webbing, freeing Kravinoff as well as Beck. Baker returned, a few still wet clumps of sand, but fully reformed, while Toomes and Dillon levitated in the sky.
"Oookaaay," laughed Peter, slightly rubbing the back of his head. "So… anyone up for ones?"
Found this leaf literally hanging by a thin spider webbing and spinning in the breeze while on a photo walk along a nature trail on a part of the Cross Florida Greenway I hadn't been to yet.
HSS and Happy New Year.
Added a preset in Lightroom called "Holga - Kodak T-Max" which I don't remember exactly where I downloaded it (I think it was available via Adobe, but I don't know who to give credit to), tweaked a few things in there, then in CS5 added a Levels layer (Multiply 81/65) and a Hue/Sat. layer (colorize, orange/yellowish color, soft light 80/24). I decided not to crop it as I like all that negative space here.
One of nature's miraculous miracles.
Posted for the "Looking Close... on Friday!" theme of 10/27/2023: SPIDER AND/OR SPIDER WEB.
VIEWERSHIP: 9% of 1,245 views on 10/26/2023 and 16% of 1,940 views on 10/27/2023.
FAVORABILITY: 49% of 41 faves on 10/26/2023 and 26% of 138 faves on 10/27/2023.
Something a little different....another night shot practice. Saw this spider weaving and moving about her web late one night. Thought it looked really cool even though I couldn't capture the orangy color of the spider and still do justice to the web. I have a few other shots of it and will probably load them at a later day....so, BEWARE LOLOL Happy Monday!
#439 7/14/08
All rights reserved
i made these a while ago but the handles were a little weak and didn't really do the job. I bought some webbing for other projects and decided to beef up these with the leftover. I'm so happy with them now.
Pictured are soldiers during a section attack, advancing towards the target.
Ex SOUTHERN WARRIOR is a Collective Training 2 awarding Rifle Company dismounted exercise facilitated by HQ British Forces South Atlantic Islands (BFSAI). The exercise incorporated a blank and live firing phase. During the deployment window there was a short period allocated to battlefield study and low level adventure training.
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© Crown Copyright 2014
Photographer: Cpl Si Longworth RLC (Phot)
Image 45156951.jpg from www.defenceimages.mod.uk
Use of this image is subject to the terms and conditions of the MoD News Licence at www.defenceimagery.mod.uk/fotoweb/20121001_Crown_copyrigh...
For latest news visit www.gov.uk/government/organisations/ministry-of-defence
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Handmade of deer, moose??? whatever and they are WONDERFUL!!! We have friends who own an old cottage up north and they have several pairs of VERY old GORGEOUS snowshoes with VERY finely made webbing. they are a thing of beauty! More later but I gotta run! i really want to redo with light BEHIND the webbing!
The Barred Leaf Frog (Cruziohyla calcarifer) is a nocturnal, arboreal frog that only descends from the canopy to breed in tree holes and in small fish-less pools. This species is able to glide, despite having an intermediate amount of webbing. (Dudley et al. 2007).
Pictured is a side view (right facing) of soldier wearing full Virtus body armour, Virtus helmet and the Dynamic Weight Distribution (DWD) system with a Bergen.
The new Virtus system uses the latest materials and offers the same protection as Osprey body armour but is significantly lighter, moves with the body more easily and produces a slimmer profile. The amount of protection employed can be scaled up or down to match the type of threat by adding or removing soft armour pads and hard ballistic plates. It is compatible with both Osprey and Enhanced Combat Body Armour.
A new, lighter helmet will provide increased blunt impact protection, face and mandible guards for certain roles and a shape that is designed to work with the armour and daysack so weapons can be comfortably used even in a prone position.
One of the most radical innovations is an integral 'spine' - the 'dynamic weight distribution' system. The device is linked to the user’s waist belt and helps spread the load of the body armour, a Bergen or daysack across the back, shoulders and hips.
The system also employs a new quick-release mechanism – a pin positioned on the chest that when pulled releases the entire body kit.
Virtus Scalable Tactical Vest (STV)
The Scalable Tactical Vest (STV) can be used for load carriage without any armour; as a fragmentation vest with soft armour padding consisting of a composite granular material but no hard plates; as a plate carrier with no soft armour; or as a full body armour system with soft and hard armour. It is compatible with both Osprey and Enhanced Combat Body Armour.
Any combination of front, rear or side plates can be employed.
The STV comes in seven different sizes for a tailored fit. Chest size and torso length instead of height are now used for measuring. Modified lower profile soft armour further reduces the bulk when compared with Osprey, allowing for more agility.
The quick-release pin allows the STV to be removed in a couple of seconds with one pull. This applies when it is used in any of its configurations.
A lightweight webbing system is designed to be worn under and integrated with the body armour.
Both the daysack and Bergen are fully integrated with the rest of the torso sub-system. This ensures that they are carried close to the body preventing excessive movement of the load but without pushing the rear ballistic plate into the body. Both can be used in conjunction with the dynamic weight distribution system.
Pouches are made from one piece of fabric and fold flat when empty, minimising profile and the possibility of snagging.
The dynamic weight distribution system contains a hard spine that takes the load and is linked to a hip belt. This allows the soldier to transfer the weight of his load from the shoulders to the hips or the other way via an adjuster positioned in the small of the back.
Troops and equipment need to be sized correctly for the DWD to be effective. It is estimated that personnel will need a day’s worth of training and familiarisation with the kit.
The Virtus helmet has a fixed shroud for the mounting of night vision goggles and a counterweight for neck comfort.
Its fit can be easily adjusted in the same way as modern cycling and climbing helmets.
The sculpted rear prevents interference with body armour or daysack when adopting a prone fire position.
It provides more protection to the side of the head and is 350g lighter than the Mk7 it succeeds.
The helmet can be fitted with both mandible guard and visor, or either, which provide face protection for crews in open vehicles such as Jackal or WMIK.
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© Crown Copyright 2014
Photographer: Steve Dock
Image 45159175.jpg from www.defenceimages.mod.uk
Use of this image is subject to the terms and conditions of the MoD News Licence at www.defenceimagery.mod.uk/fotoweb/20121001_Crown_copyrigh...
For latest news visit www.gov.uk/government/organisations/ministry-of-defence
Follow us:
==Gotham City==
Hellhound was not having a good Christmas. As he ran down narrow alleyways and hopped over fences, his blood pumping, scattered thoughts raced through his head: Was it The King, back for seconds? Or just another unsatisfied client? Behind him, as loyal as ever, Cheadle bounced after him, barking excitedly as he crawled under the gaps in the chain fences to remain at his master's side.
Cutting the chase short, a strand of red webbing caught the conman's ankle and he tripped face first onto the snow-covered pavement, which did very little to cushion his fall. He rolled onto his back, sighing as his attackers came into view: an eclectic collection of misfits, who were approaching from all sides.
He may have been surrounded on all fronts, but he wasn't done yet. He let out a whistle and his rottweiler launched itself at his opponents, with limited effectiveness:
“Good boy... Good boy,” Joey Rigger giggled as he dodged Cheadle's slobbery tongue and rubbed the dog's belly with an un-gloved hand.
“Cheadle! You treacherous mongrel!” Hellhound snarled as he reluctantly raised his arms in the air in defeat.
Otis Flannegan stepped forward and lowered the end of his staff, shining the light from his lantern into the Hellhound's eyes as though conducting an outdoors police interrogation. “They say dogs look like their owners. Didn't hold much stock in it m'self, but I see the resemblance now. You both lack balls,” he teased.
Hellhound frowned, looking to the leader of the pack; the Kite-Man, dressed in his full green and yellow livery.
“So, King of Cats is back in town,” Chuck began. “I guess you already knew that. We're not going to ask for our money back, though we probably ought to, but we would like some intel.”
Hellhound said nothing, but crossed his legs in indignant defiance.
Gar glared, a hand on his holstered flamethrower. “Start talking.”
The Hellhound gulped, examining the Misfits' uncharacteristically stoic expressions for confirmation of Lynns' intent.
“Alright, I'll bite,” he sighed, raising his palms again. “There's a blade, a sword... Rumours were some Japanese girl had it, lost it to the Death Man. But in theory... it can trap the souls of its' victims.”
“Woah, with a sword like that, we could put an end to King of Cats for good. No body swaps, no resurrection,” Joey theorised.
“If it exists,” Ten frowned, more apprehensive.
“I swear, if this is another scam to get you tickets to Fiji-” Chuck warned, not forgetting the last time he took Hellhound at his word.
“It's not,” Needham determined. “Least, I don't think it is. Azrael had a blade like that, did some weird spiritual crap to me. I believe the sword exists; we just need to find it.”
==The Death Gardens. Japan==
Despite their ominous name, The Death Gardens, located in the Hinohara forest, west of Tokyo, couldn't be more alive; a large open area filled by lush green grass, cascading waterfalls and tall cherry trees that dropped pink petals into the clear blue waters below. It was a shame that the Misfits were there on business.
In the centre of the clearing, sat a physically imposing, but oddly dressed figure, fitted like a Halloween Skeleton, complete with a flowing black cloak and white thigh-high boots. In his lap, sat the Soul-Taker, the blade Hellhound promised could quell the King of Cats' threat once and for all.
The Misifts, this time joined by Blake and Axel, approached the man with trepidation; After all, none of them had seen the Death Man since his short-lived stint among their ranks, and rumours of his increasingly unpredictable nature and a tendency to hold grudges meant they were unsure if he'd even be willing to hand over the key to The King's defeat.
Of course, there was also a pretty large language barrier.
“Um, hi! Hello! Konnichi wa?” Joey greeted the skeletal man.
“That's good, keep going,” Chuck nodded affirmatively.
Joey's cheeks reddened. “You want me to keep going-? I watch Animé, my vocabulary doesn't really extend beyond 'mecha.'”
The Death Man watched the group; his skull-like mask made it impossible to discern his mood, but Chuck suspected he enjoyed watching the Misfits embarrass themselves. Unprompted, Axel walked over to The Death Man and whispered a Japanese message into one of the hollow openings where his ears ought to be.
The Death Man processed the words, then nodded.
“What'd you ask him?” Joey pondered.
“If he spoke English,” Axel explained, hopping down from the ornate throne. “Duh?”
Joey's cheeks turned redder still.
“Right...” Chuck sighed. “Mr Death Man-”
“LORD Death Man!” the man replied in an surprisingly nasally voice (surprising, due to the lack of a nose).
“Lord Death Man,” Chuck began anew, “We have travelled from Gotham City on a desperate mission to rescue one of our own. Though faced with impossible odds, we think your blade might just be the thing to turn the tide.”
“Promise we'll return it!” Joey vouched for him.
“Nyee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!” The Death Man giggled, leaning back in his throne. “Be still, your prattling tongue! The Death Man has no stake in your plight, mortal fools!”
“Screw this,” Blake scoffed, strutting forward defiantly. “You listen, buddy, we're taking that sword whether you give it to us or not,” he declared, marking his point by poking the Death Man's chest.
The instant Blake made contact; Lord Death Man dropped to the ground like a stone in water.
The Misfits froze for a moment, then cautiously, Ten bent down and placed his ear against the man's ribcage and his hand across his throat. “I don't... There's no pulse,” he gasped.
And then, panic:
“I- I barely touched him!” Blake shrieked.
“I mean, he looked pretty frail.”
“He looked like a skeleton!”
“That's what I meant.”
“Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-”
“This is bad, I came to Japan for the hotties, not the rotties!”
“Calm down!” Flannegan ordered, clapping his hands together.
“That's better. Alright, grab a shovel.”
Less willing to accept the Death Man's demise, Gar kicked the body, and with a shriek of pain, the Death Man was sitting upright.
“Holy shit,” Blake remarked. “Dude's a possum.”
Flannegan grumpily lowered his spade. “As far as superpowers go, heart failure is on the same level as the cock cannon.”
===Homosassa Springs. Florida===
The group of four Misfits moved the garden gate aside and sighed at the tasteless sight of excessive decadence; though the house was comparatively ramshackle in appearance, the garden was full of large golden statues and finished with a marble fountain that towered above the visitors. Overtaken by curiosity, Sharpe knelt by the chicken coop, and was surprised to find half a dozen squawking pheasants in the place of common hens.
This was the place, alright.
Chuck rang the doorbell (the sound, was a particularly loud rendition of Beethoven's Für Elise) and waited outside as a long-haired silhouette appeared behind the frosted glass. The door swung open, and a delighted grin appeared on the occupant's face.
“Dear me! If it isn't my Merry Misfits looking decidedly unmerry! Charles! Garfield! Thomas! Come in, you ridiculous beard-splitter, how are you?” Mortimer Drake inquired.
“Been better,” Blake confessed.
“I thought as much! Might I tempt you with a nipperkin, you swill-bellied swine?” he asked, prodding Blake's belly playfully.
“'Fraid not.”
“Sorry, Morty, we're here on business,” Chuck frowned.
“Ah, I see. The jester. I feared it would come to this... That rapscallion was always balmy on the crumpet. Off his chump,” Drake drawled, as he tipped the remaining contents of his bottle of Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac into the bottom of his crystal champagne flute.
“There's a novel assessment,” Sharpe exhaled, sitting on the armrest of Drake's French settee.
“Montgomery. Yours always was a good voice to beg bacon,” Drake wagged his finger at him dismissively.
“Hiya, Drake. How's that 'life of luxury' working out?” Sharpe waved back, quoting the Cavalier's favoured mantra.
“'Heard you knocked over a convenience store for some booze,” Gar mentioned, frowning as a hyacinth macaw made itself at home on his shoulder.
“You can jolly well go fuck yourself, Garfield,” Drake scowled. “Why do you all have the hump?”
“Because Drury's been kidnapped? Because the clown wants him dead?” Gar snapped.
Drake dabbed his upper lip with a silk handkerchief. “Bah. Although it's rather too late in your case, Garfield, I would still advise you all to keep your hair on. We will rescue our antiquated rogue compatriot in due course. But firstly, if I were to join your caravan, what would I receive in return?”
“Well, we're not doing your fuckin' taxes.”
==Coast City==
Waves crashed against the boardwalk, rain pelted down onto the pier, but the Misfits moved forwards.
“You could have asked McCulloch to drop us a little closer, you know!” Blake lagged behind, as rain drizzled down his brown cowl.
“Nah, we're not teleporting into his living room unannounced: this isn't the kinda guy you sneak up on. Isn't much further anyway... see that lighthouse? He's got a cabin nearby,” Gar pointed to a lone light a few hundred yards away.
“You're starting to scare me, Gar,” Joey stated cautiously.
“Only now? He looks like the kinda guy that stalks kids in their dreams,” Sharpe teased.
“That was as hilarious as the first hundred times you made that joke, Chancer!” Gar snapped back.
“Gar...”
“He's... look, he's a contact of mine. From The Society days. But he's got a few screws loose, ok? So don't upset him.”
“I'll be as gentlemanly as ever!” Sharpe blew a kiss at him mockingly.
“Yeah, that's what I'm scared of.”
“Uh, how loopy we talking about here, Gar?” Joey tapped his shoulder.
“'s complicated. He has good days and bad days.”
“Ok, ok. So, on a scale of Freeze to Pyg, how bad is he? On average,” Joey pried.
“... He's a Two-Face.”
“Oh, he's a schizo!” Sharpe concluded.
As they reached the cabin, Gar took his phone out of his pocket. “One last thing: Anything metal stays outside. Helmets, belt buckles, guns... Watch our stuff, kid,” he instructed Axel, noting his prosthetic arm, as he unbuckled his grey utility belt and wing harness and pressed the doorbell.
There was a chime; then a sound of scrabbling from within; and finally, an unassuming man with tousled brown hair answered the door, dressed in a short-sleeved t-shirt that was far too big for him. “Firefly?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Neal,” Gar nodded cautiously. “Do you mind if we have a chat?”
“No, of course not,” Emerson obliged, “Come in,” he offered, although as Gar passed, a single curse of “Deserter,” escaped his lips, with a voice that wasn't his own.
“Sorry, you had your pick of The Society, and you picked fucking 'Neal' before Zod?” an oblivious Sharpe questioned Lynns, as the group invited themselves inside. Given the circumstances, Neal was surprisingly welcoming, even offering to put the kettle on for his guests. As he disappeared into the kitchen, Gar called out to him:
“So, do you keep in touch with the old guard at all?”
“No,” Neal replied. “But I received an email a few months back from a man claiming to be Phillip Cobb. I assumed it was one of those 'Biaylan prince' scams. You?”
“Not really. Most of the guys want me dead,” Gar conceded.
“You did ignite the Martian,” Neal reminded him, pouring hot water into a collection of mismatched mugs.
“He had it coming,” Gar reprimanded him.
“They always do...” Neal muttered softly.
Sharpe was bored now, and as he rose from his seat, he pushed the wrong buttons; “Listen, plug boy-”
Before he could say anything worse, a metal chain wrapped itself around his throat. The other Neal re-entered the living room, frowning. “You know, I really do detest that name,” he murmured calmly.
“Neal! Neal, stop! Emerson, christ, let him go!” Gar protested.
“My name, Lynns. Use my name,” the man scowled, his eyes glowing with violet energy. The chain dug into Sharpe's throat, his face turning blue under the strain. Just a little more pressure and his neck would snap.
“Polaris... He's not worth it,” Gar begged.
“I agree.”
With the flick of his wrist, the chain released and Sharpe dropped to the floor, gasping for air. “Now, I understand you have an offer for me?” Polaris cocked his head to one side.
“I thought you dudes had hypocritical oaths!” Blake wrapped his arm around Sharpe's back.
“Hippocratic,” Kuttler hissed in the corner.
“Bro, you're never fucking happy!”
==The Cluster. Orbit==
Joey and McCulloch landed on the metal floor with a thud. Since the incident with Polaris, Gar had determined that it would be safer and more productive if the Misfits split up; that left Joey on his own to handle perhaps the most important business deal of his life.
“Awfy soory about that, pa'. I dinnae tend to use ma mirror gun fer interstellar travel. Fook, ah mean, ah dinnae ken ahve even come out this far before,” McCulloch apologised, rubbing his bruised joints, but Joey wasn’t listening. They had arrived in some sort of observation deck; in front of them was a curved glass window that seemed like it stretched for miles, which was easily over twenty feet tall, and on the other side was Planet Earth.
Joey took in the majesty of the blue planet below, his mouth agape. “Woah.”
The moment was unfortunately short-lived, as soon a pair of heavily-armed robots hovered towards them, enormous laser guns aimed at the intruders’ heads.
“PREPARE TO BE OBLITERATED TRESSPASSERS,” one robot demanded.
“Wait!” Joey raised his hands above his head, motioning for McCulloch to keep his mirror gun holstered. “I seek an audience with the Great Manga Khan, Lord of Thanagar, Grand Regent of Krypton, Scourge of Bezos and Vice President of the Gemworld Amusement Parks.”
“Are those real titles?” the robot paused, lowering its’ weapons.
“They sound real,” the other responded.
“How tha fook-”
“I'm riffing, play along.”
~-~
A long walk through a dozen clean hallways later and Joey found himself sat opposite from the golden-clad business mogul. L-Ron, his robotic assistant, held a welder's torch to Lord Manga's neck, repairing the crack Krill had formed at the Royal.
“AHH, IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK IN MY FEET AGAIN,” Lord Manga celebrated,
“M'lord, you're shouting again.”
“BECAUSE I'M EXCITED L-RON!”
==Washington DC==
“No.”
Taken aback, Blake let out an abrasive chuckle. “You're serious?” he frowned. “Pussy.”
“You're the one with whiskers,” the other man responded, taking in another puff from his cigarette, his eye still trained on his gun’s targeting scope.
“I don't get it, Floyd. All his victims, all their families... Not one of them reached out to you? Not once were you offered a chance to kill him, to do what we've all thought of doing for years, and get paid for it, no less?” Blake asked pacing back and forth around the rooftop, something that was clearly getting on Lawton’s nerves.
“They did. Just happened to turn 'em down,” he responded as he readjusted his silver wrist guns.
“Why?”
Lawton dabbed the butt of his cigarette, taking a step back from the gun tripod. “Cause he's not my kill. Think of it as a professional courtesy.”
“A professional what-?”
Without looking and without warning, Lawton fired his wrist gun; it ricocheted off the shutters, struck the lamp above them, and found its' mark in the skull of the North Rheelasian Diplomat in the office 500 yards away.
“Jesus Fuck!”
“Professional courtesy,” Lawton repeated, dropping the cigarette to the ground and lowering his mask over his stubbled chin. “Rather like me not dropping you.”
“Don’t pester me when I’m out on a job. You’ll find my courtesy is pretty short-lived.”
==The Iceberg Lounge==
“I’m sorry?” Gaige’s bottom lip twitched.
Cobblepot exhaled, swirling his glass of red wine. “Perhaps you misunderstand, Doctor. If Walker was The Clown's true target, then he poses us no present danger. Why would we risk antagonising him?”
“Why would- He blew up your cops!” Gaige roared indignantly.
“And our thoughts and prayers go out to the victims' families,” Cobblepot shook his head mournfully. “Truly, a tragic, unnecessary loss of life.”
To his left, Warren White chuckled, mouthing the words ‘Thoughts and Prayers,’ disingenuously. On his right, Sionis’ red eyes revealed a malicious satisfaction from this latest roadblock.
“I understand your conviction, Doctor, I do,” Cobblepot admitted. “But we cannot afford to risk our men and resources to chase ghouls and monsters. The clown has taken enough from us already.”
A disbelieving smile crept across Gaige's face as he finally understood. “That's it, isn't it? You're terrified. All of you. Pissing your britches over a fucking clown!”
“That's enough, Gaige, be sensible,” Cobblepot squawked, to no avail.
“The Gotham Mob. I had it all wrong; they all did! The Big Bad Gangsters, scared of a Looney Toon! Franco and Ferris, fuck, Mr Moth, they fought and died for a seat at the table, they just didn’t realise it was the kid’s table! Drink your milk, kiddies, draw some pictures, call mommy to change your diapers, ‘cause that’s what this is! What it’s always been!
“ENOUGH!” Penguin screeched, thumping the table with his flipper-like fists.
“Nicely done,” Sionis applauded his long-time rival. “You’re finished.”
Gaige held the door open, a grim smile on his weather-beaten features. “No. You’re finished.”
He signalled to Flannegan, waiting outside, and the pair departed, leaving the mob alone to ponder the pirate’s closing words.
==Castle Street. Edinburgh==
Gar and Jenna emerged from a shop window on Edinburgh’s high street; McCulloch said he couldn’t stay, must’ve been the Glaswegian in him, but promised he’d be back in an hour to pick them up. The streets, were practically empty; the hotels and restaurants were open for the Holidays of course, but the stores were shut until the 26th. Gar looked at the directions on his phone, and guided Jenna to an apartment block sandwiched between a hairdresser’s and one of five Costa Coffee shops in the City Centre.
“You’re sure this is it, Gar?” Jenna asked, as she began unlocking the doorway with a selection of tools concealed in her purse.
“I am,” Gar confirmed. “The Playhouse is doing a showing of MacBeth, he doesn’t miss Shakespeare. Not in Edinburgh, he got his start in a Hamlet production here forty years ago, moved into film not long after.”
“Then to be or not to be! That is the question!” Jenna squeezed his arm playfully as she pushed the door open with an effortless shove.
“That’s- That is a line, yeah,” Gar blushed.
“The big one,” she smiled.
“The biggest even,” Gar conceded.
“I never paid much attention to the words, to be honest,” Jenna confessed, as they ascended up the narrow flight of stairs. “It was the sets that caught my eye.”
“It was the sets that caught fire,” Gar smirked back at her.
As they approached the door of apartment 40, Jenna held her nose. “Bloody hell, it stinks of-”
“Mud,” Gar corrected her. “Smells of mud.”
“You gonna be alright in there?” Jenna asked, a concerned eyebrow raised.
“Sure, I will,” Gar smiled back softly. He raised his knuckle against the door and knocked. There was a faint squelching from within, then the door opened, seemingly of its’ own accord, then slammed shut once he’d entered. ‘So, this is what a thousand bucks a month gets you here,’ he muttered. The curtains slid shut, then a brown silhouette slid into view behind Gar, yellow eyes fixed on him.
“That woman in the hall-” it began, objecting to Jenna’s presence.
“-Is with me, she’s ok.”
“She’s aiming a fire extinguisher at the peephole.”
“In case things get ugly,” Gar said cautiously.
“Might things get ugly?” the mud man asked.
“That depends, you gonna apologise for faking your death?” Gar warned.
The mud man shifted into a purple suit and adjusted the brim of his large hat. “Lynns…”
“Bas. You couldn't resist, could you?” Gar asked, his features softening. “Castle Street?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Karlo growled petulantly.
“Come on, this apartment's leased by an ‘Anna Lorde.’ Do I need to recount First Blood to you? Or do you get where I'm going with this?”
Karlo sank into his chair, placing a damp fist against his clay-like chin. “Lorna Dane... I... I hadn't realised.”
“’Guess you couldn't abstain from another performance,” Gar remarked.
Karlo ran his hand across the pile of film magazines on the coffee table. “You forget my first lesson. All life is acting, Lynns. Different masks, serving different functions. Agendas disguised by false smiles and cordial nods. I see that you have removed your own, let loose your true, blackened soul. A baptism of fire, perchance?”
Gar brushed his dry, cracked skin. “A couple, actually.”
“They have Sims, Bas. Sprung him from GCPD, right alongside Dru and Krill.”
Karlo’s face hardened at the mere mention of his former protégé. “Do they?” he asked. “And I suppose you have already begun rallying your allies... Hm. It was not so long ago that I sent out a casting call. Do you remember?”
“Of course, I do,” Gar snapped back a little too quickly.
“Yes. You were there. That weasel Flannegan also, oh, and that abrasive pirate, Gaige. And in case you have forgotten, and I know you have not, they sided with Sims. And when the dust settled, when my child was dust, dirt, mud to be carried upstream and washed away, where was Walker then? Hiding, to curry the Tiger Shark's favour.”
Gar ran a hand across his bald scalp, fishing for something, anything, to procure his first friend’s understanding. “He has a daughter, Bas. Three boys.”
Karlo’s yellow eyes softened, his face drooped and he sank even further into his seat. “Three boys...”
==Robinson Park==
Joined by Sharpe, Mayo and Blake (Who had returned earlier and more shaken than expected from his trip to DC), Chuck followed the cobblestone path towards the towering glasshouse in the centre of Gotham’s Robinson Park. His hand on the golden handle, he turned to his compatriots, his heart heavier than ever.
“I need to do this next bit alone.”
The Misfits nodded in understanding and offered Chuck their support. As he entered the glasshouse, Blake made a remark about a “Venus Guy Trap,” to Sharpe. In response, a branch thwacked him in the back of his head. As Sharpe chuckled at his friend's misfortune, a low hanging twig swung back and struck him in the groin.
~-~
As Chuck descended deeper into the glasshouse, the greenery was in turn lusher, more vibrant.
More alive.
Roots and vines shifted out of his way, giving him access to areas of the glasshouse that a seldom few had. Finally, he reached the centre of the room; a woman with flowing red hair sat on a enormous flower head like a throne, surrounded by multi-coloured flower petals of all shapes and sizes. Her skin had a greenish tinge to it, but it was nothing compared to her eyes.
Oh, Chuck could get lost in those eyes.
“Why are you here?” the woman spoke.
Chuck didn’t really know how to answer that. He hadn't seen her since… Since she left him at the altar.
“Drury loved the flowers, you know. At the funeral, I mean. I guess that was you,” he fumbled over his words.
“It was,” she nodded. “And I’m glad. Miranda Gaige and I had our differences, but she deserved better, so much better, than to die in some… hole beneath the city.”
Chuck looked at the ground, glumly. He couldn’t let himself look in her eyes, not again.
“Why are you here, Chuck?” she asked again.
Again, Chuck wondered. They had Doctor Polaris, the Rogues, Major Disaster and his Injustice League. They had more than enough to make a stand against the Outcasts, surely, and yet-
“Why… Why did you leave, Pamela? No note, no text. You were there by my side one minute. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together, I bought a tux, an actual tux, with cufflinks. And then, you were gone. Like you were never even there. Like… Like leaves, carried off by the wind. Yeah, I’ll always have those memories, I cherish them. But they’re like dreams, and when I wake up from that fantasy, I am faced with the cold hard reality of an empty bed.”
The woman was silent for a moment, then answered with a detached response. “Nature is always changing, Chuck. Deep down you knew that; it could never really be tamed. I could never just be a succulent on a windowsill. “
“But… I mean, we were happy, weren’t we?” Chuck asked, his eyes starting to brim with tears. “I know- God, I know I was. I know I wasn’t just a mark to you, there was more to it than that. Hell, what could I have ever possessed that you’d want to steal? What existed that I wouldn’t have given you if you had only asked?”
Pam looked away. “No. You were never a score, Chuck. The feelings we had for each other, those were real, not the pheromones or the lipstick. I never- I could never. Not on you. But Harley… Harley needed me. That monster… What he did, what he is- She needed someone nurturing. Someone to tell her she matters, to promise her that she didn’t have to be something she’s not. And you taught me how to be that person. I mean it, you cared. Since Woodrue, since the toxins… For the first time since I became ‘Poison Ivy…’ It was nice. Nice to have someone that cared for Pamela Isley.”
“What about me, huh? I needed you,” Chuck pounded his chest with a fist, a tear escaped from his eyes and ran down his cheek, and then, a vine caught it.
“No… No, Chuck, you never did. But now you’re at a precipice, like I was the day I left you in that corn factory. Now, I have the Green. I have Harley. And you? You have them. Your Misfits.”
~-~
Blake, Sharpe, and Mayo stood outside. It had been a few minutes since Chuck entered, and they had begun to feel agitated.
“The things I'd do to that mouth,” Mayo drooled, an unprompted remark which caught both Blake and Sharpe’s attention.
“Yeah?” Blake smirked. “Like what?”
“I would... Kiss it!” Mayo giggled, like it was the most scandalous thing in the world.
“Ooh, how audacious! Gonna hold hands next?” Sharpe teased.
==Butchinsky's==
The bar floor was practically empty, its only inhabitants a baby, a kindergartener and two more lost children. Bridget, sat by the bar staring into a glass of beer that she no longer had the appetite for. Simon stepped towards her, his fist clenched and his skin clammy, remnants from his encounter in the toilets.
“You've changed your costume,” Bridget observed.
“So have you,” Simon noted; Bridget's latest suit resembled her father's even more than it had in the other timeline.
“Yeah...” Bridget nodded, acknowledging his allusion to her contradictory loyalties.
The pleasantries finished, Simon dropped any pretence, adopting a stern face to mask his resurfaced trauma. He was much like his father in that regard, a brave face belying heaps of anxiety and insecurities. “I need to tell you something. Something I can't tell anyone else,” he started.
“What?” Bridget asked. She was much like her father too; she didn’t have much patience for preamble.
Simon hesitated, not sure if his decision was the right one. “You might be the only other person who can understand. Because you know what he's capable of,” Simon continued to speak evasively until he caught an impatient glint in Bridget's eyes. “I... I thought your dad'd be the worst of it... But he's back.”
Bridget eyed him with confusion, which quickly turned to dread and then horror as Simon uttered three horrifying words.
“Thawne is alive.”
Before Bridget had time to process, the front door swung open, and the Misfits came pouring back in.
“You said you might have something, Kuttler?” Chuck was asking.
“Yes, potentially our silver bullet. Emerson had got me thinking about the Society again, and I was reminded of an unfinished project of ours; Much like Batman’s Agamemnon Contingencies, one of our associates developed a series of algorithm, safeguards, really, to take down each and every one of our tech based ‘employees.’”
“Including Billings-?” Chuck inquired.
“Yes.”
“If that’s the case, why not bring this up before?” Ten asked.
“Because he defected before we could put his ideas into practise,” Kuttler explained. “There was a copy of it in his journal, until the clown destroyed it; he must have had his eyes on Billings for far longer than any of us realised… Which is why it’s incredibly fortunate for us that this man has a photographic memory.”
“But who?” Chuck asked, before it dawned on him. “Oh, no. No way.”
“Yes,” Gar said firmly.
“He's a prick, and a murderer,” Flannegan agreed with Chuck.
“So? Which of us isn't?” Gar questioned the room, each of them looking down sheepishly.
“Sure, but none of us have ever been smug about it,” Blake retorted.
“I do try to avoid killing people, thank you,” Ten stepped in.
“Look, that's not the point,” Chuck dismissed him.
“Chuck... he's the only guy who hates Joker as much as any of us,” Gar claimed.
Chuck shook his head. “Even if I did agree, which I don't- There's no way to find him.”
“Yes, there is. There's me,” Kuttler stepped in.
“Well?” Gar asked, his point made.
“God!” Chuck cursed, kicking the nearby trashcan.
“Chuck,” Rigger pleaded, a hand on his shoulder. “We have to try.”
==Slabside Penitentiary==
A man dressed in green sat beside Arthur Brown's hospital bed, watching the heart monitor. Brown had been comatose since Bane split his skull open. Some of the pieces, were still lodged in his brain. The man tapped his golden cane against the ground, each tap in perfect synchrony with the beeps from the device. A single pair of footsteps behind him caught his attention, and he lowered his green bowling hat. “Held in place, losing each race, ‘til someone cuts my strings, then I soar off into space. What am I?”
Chuck didn’t answer. “Can you stop him?”
“Hm.” The man slid off a pair of purple gloves and flexed his bare fingers. “Riddle me this: I can decimate the clown. Turn his smile to a frown. And I also killed the linage of the man called Charlie Brown. Who am I?”
Chuck’s fist clenched.
The Riddler’s white eyes narrowed, his pupils obscured by his purple domino mask. “The wound still hasn’t healed, I see,” he observed. “Interesting. So, why would a Kite-Man ask for my help?” he inquired,
“Your algorithm, I know you developed one to use against Spellbinder. Is it real?”
“You mean Noah couldn't figure it out?” Riddler started laughing, a childish, irritatingly smug giggle. “Oh, how delightful!”
Nothing common about the Common Buckeye Butterfly - I love those eye spots! I also like the spider webbing in the pic, must be my "creepy" side coming out.
©R.C. Clark: Dancing Snake Nature Photography
All rights reserved
i made these a while ago but the handles were a little weak and didn't really do the job. I bought some webbing for other projects and decided to beef up these with the leftover. I'm so happy with them now.
This photo shows webbing at the end of a dead stem of native Black Sage (Salvia mellifera, Lamiaceae). Hah, it looks like rigging on a dusty model ship! I believe this is "cribellate" webbing which is fuzzy and lacks any kind of sticky stuff, see this photo and this photo for more examples. Maybe this is the work of a cribellate species of Mesh Web Weaver in the family Dictynidae. Happy Web Webnesday! (San Marcos Pass, 13 November 2018)
Some people want to be Starman, I'd rather be Spider-man. That ability to go thwipping through the....yes I said thwipping. It's a perfectly good made up word. It comes from the sound of webbing shooting out Spider-man's web shooters. It really is an onomatopoetic word. Though I'm using it as a verb. I don't even know if I am doing that right. I'm just throwing grammar sounding stuff out and hoping it sticks.
Sticks like Spider-man to a wall. Oh to be able to climb up walls. To never have a to use a ladder. I mean it would be high walls. Not too keen on the heights. A bedroom wall. Possibly a living room. Very handy for changing light bulbs. Though I may never be able to have a bath again for fear of not being able to climb out the tub afterwards.
Does make me wonder what's underneath that mask if I keep on picking. It's hard to resist. Just a little bit. Oooh there, think I have it. Just at the edge. It's coming. Looks like a hefty chunk too. I see it now. And it's bone. Bugger. That's not going to heal any time soon. I'll just stick that back and it's fell out again.
Does anyone have any toilet tissue?
Just a corner.
Maybe a roll.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was inspired by a piece of art by Butcher Billy I saw today though I was inspired to do it because I suggested someone else go full Bowie and they did, quite fantastically too.
All three Spider-Man figures are complete! I've been working on them almost sporadically throughout 2022. I made sure to approach each figure when I was ready since painting webbing is such a time-consuming process.
Absolutely loved seeing each Peter Parker interact with one another in the film! Such a joy!
L to R
The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man (Tobey Maguire)
The Integrated Suit (Tom Holland)
The Amazing Spider-Man (Andrew Garfield)
I. The Integrated Suit:
Everything is painted, no 3D elements on this guy. In hindsight, I wish I had used either a dark red, or a grey color for the webbing. In my opinion, I think the black lining is a bit too pronounced. That’s something I was careful of when making Andrew and Tobey. Painting the spider plate on the torso was a challenge, and it’s lacking some more detail, but I think it serves its purpose. I also modified a Ron Weasley head that I think has a decent likeness to Tom Holland, especially during the final act of the film. I Repainted the eyebrows and added some blood stains.
II. The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man:
Everything is painted on him. I didn’t add any texture detailing, I kept it simple. In a lot of ways, he looks exactly like the original 2004 LEGO minifigure, which I should say wasn’t intentional.
My favorite part is the mask, which was also the hardest part of making him. I was watching the Raimi trilogy while making him, and I remember being really pleased that by the time I got to Spider-Man 3, I had essentially painted the entire mask. To me, it looks like it came right off the screen. The torso is nicely done, the webbing is of course silver and the emblem is painted with a metallic black. I used a Frodo Baggins head and painted a stubble to hopefully capture his age as he appears in No Way Home.
III. The Amazing Spider-Man:
While Tobey Maguire is my preferred Peter Parker, Andrew Garfield is my preferred Spider-Man. I absolutely loved his “street punk, cool kid” demeanor in the Amazing Spider-Man films. The way in which he delivers lines while In the suit, just screams Spider-Man for me.
I painted everything on this figure, of course. The base paint is flag red, which has a slight pink hue to it, but is overall much easier to paint with than using AB’s Bright Red. The webbing is painted with a pavement color, and the spider emblem on the front of the torso is a lightish grey. He has a slight suggestion of the webshooters inside his arms, but I forgot to photograph an angle where they’re visible, thought I’d mention it anyway. I took inspiration for the head from mgfcustoms. As soon as I saw this print in one of his photos, I thought it was perfect for Andrew Garfield! The hairpiece is also sanded down and I sculpted a bit on the front to maintain it’s smooth texture.
That's all for this project! Thanks for all the support, as always!
-Zach
"So what's the plan, oh fearless leader?" Harry asks me, as we all swing towards the Inheritors.
"Well, I'm guessing wooden stakes don't work on them, and there's not much in the way of direct sunlight in this place, so I'm not really sure."
Ghost-Spider: "So we're facing them without a plan.. That's just great." Her voice, reeked with sarcasm.
"Hey, I'm open to suggestions! Haven't had time to think of one, before getting portaled right to them!" I say, webbing one of vampires up, before he quickly breaks out of it. Ghost-Spider, and Spider-Cop are teaming up on one of the Inheritors, while the rest are taking on the others. Ghost Spider and Spider-Cop are working surprisingly well together, being almost in sync. Superior Spider-Girls uses her mechanical arms to throw herself at one of them, trying to stab her with said arms. No one else dies.. That's what I kept telling myself. Too many deaths for one lifetime. There's not much I can do however, as I'm pretty tied up right now fighting one of the others.
"So what's your name?" I ask the one that I'm leaping around, trying to find the right opportunity to strike. It's then that my spider sense goes off, as a different Inheritor goes to grab my leg. Webbing their hand to the ground, I keep on the move, using a combination of web swinging, and flipping over others. The fight goes on, with each side taking major hits. Spider-Cop looks like he's about to pass out, but that's mostly due to him throwing himself in the way of any hit Ghost Spider would've taken.
"Karn." He says, looking at me, expression less, as he tries stabbing me with his Bident. Unlike the rest of his brothers and sisters, he is quite calm about the situation, but is somewhat hesitant in hitting me.
"Well, Karn, I'll be taking this.." I say, yanking the Bident from his hand, smacking him square in the face with it, before leaping off him. Two of the Inheritors, that look to be twins, seem to be making this a game, trying to one up the other.
Bora: "Are we having fun yet, dear brother?" The female twin asks, as she leaps after Spinneret, with knives drawn.
Brix: "Why wouldn't I be, Bora? After all, I am currently winning!" The male twin replies, as he throws Harry into me with his whip.
"Owh." I groan, as I try to get up. Harry's back up rather quickly, going back to fight the male twin. The Inheritor facing Spider-Girl rips her bandana off while his other hand punches her repeatedly. Without the bandana, it's easy to tell, that Spider-Girl is my sister, Teresa.
"T-SPIDER-GIRL!" I yell, swing kicking into the Inheritor that's punching her. He stumbles back a few steps, as I dodge the incoming attacks from other nearby Inheritors.
"I-I'm fine.." Spider-Girl manages to say, as she struggles to stand upright.
Daemos: "You're a fool if you truly believe you can beat us. As the eldest of the family, I'll show you the error of your ways." He brings his hammer overhead to try and hit me. Still having the Bident, I use it to grab the hilt of the hammer, throwing it away from him. As he dives towards it, Superior Spider-Girl tosses it to Harry, who uses it to hit the male twin, sending him flying into his sister. My spider-sense starts tingling, as Karn's back for more, prying the Bident from my hands.
"You're better than this Karn. You don't have to do this." I say, trying to reason with him.
"I have to.. It's the only way to make up for what I've done. Our parents, dead, because of me." Karn hesitates once more, not putting the full force into his punch.
"Look, I don't know what happened, and I'm not going to pretend that I do. But I get what you're feeling. I've lived with that guilt for a long time.. Of losing a family member, thinking that it's all your fault. That if you were smarter, it could've been avoided. But it's not too late, to make the right choice now. Your family, is trying to kill millions of people, and you don't want that. Otherwise, you would've already killed me."
"I-only wanted to create things, not destroy them.. But when I failed my family, there was no way out. I had to be like them, to atone for my past mistakes."
"You don't have to do that anymore. There's always another way. So please.. Help us."
"... O-kay. But what you're doing won't work. There's only one thing that can stop us." He whispers something else into my ear, something about radiation being the key, and that he's heard of Earth 3145, a radioactive Earth. As I'm talking to Karn, there's a scream. Turning around, to a truly horrifying sight. Superior Spider-Girl, getting impaled with her own mechanical arms. Spider-Cop collapses, after taking one too many slashes to the chest, protecting Ghost Spider, even though it costed him his life. I fall down to my knees, my head lowering. I don't know why I thought this would be any different. Got Karn on our side, but it's too late.
"Get up. There's still time to save everyone else." Teresa says, weakly. Picking myself back up, as yet another portal opens up. One after the other, more Spiders come.
"Sorry we're late. Just got the Master Weaver's SOS a few minutes ago." One of the new additions says, before joining in the fight. This gives me, and Karn, opportunity to search for a gateway to this radiation infested world, as he still has the transversal device. The tide is changing in our favour, as thousands of Spider men, women, and animals come to our aid. You can see the Inheritors getting worn down. Finally, after a few minutes of calibrations, me and Karn open the gateway.
"Now's the time! Everyone, get them inside!" Karn yells, raising his Bident into the air.
Daemos: "Filthy traitor! To think there was a time I was actually jealous of you." One of the other Inheritors says, as he swings his hammer at Karn. With a web line, I'm able to yank the hammer away from him once more. Harry's getting some punches in on the male twin, making him stumble closer to the open portal. Hundreds sacrifice themselves to give us the opportunity to stop the Inheritors permanently.
"LET'S GO!!" Harry shouts triumphantly, as we make one last push, web kicking, and throwing the Inheritors with every last bit of strength we have left. After what feels like half an hour of fighting, they finally stumble backwards into the portal, sending them away to Earth 3145.
"It's over.. It's finally over.." Spider-Ham says, with a sigh of relief.
"Yeah, but at what cost?" Ghost Spider cries.
Harry: "The Inheritors won't ever be able to hurt another soul ever again. Take the win where you can get it. Yes, far too many of us died for it to happen, but everyone knew that there was heavy risk involved. They didn't have to come, but they did. We will never forget the sacrifice they made, so that thousands, no, millions more could live."
"Why was I leader again? That speech is one of a leader." I say, trying to lighten the mood a bit, but it's a tall order.
Harry: "You, Spider-Man, brought us together. No one else could have done it. Without you, there wouldn't even be the Web Warriors."
"Web Warriors?" I ask, somewhat puzzled.
Harry: "Eh, it's a work in progress. Was the first name I thought of."
Spinneret: "Better than Spider-Army, so it works for me!"
--------------------------------
Later
After a memorial for all of the spiders who sacrificed themselves to save the day, we all went our separate ways. Karn, looking for redemption, is the new Master Weaver, forever watching the Web of Life and Destiny. After an emotional goodbye, Harry went home, to Earth 56. Ghost Spider, the only one of us with a transversal device, travelled to Earth 121, to tell the family of Spider-Cop, George Stacy, of his passing. I told her I could do it, but she wanted to be the one to do it, as he died saving her. Spider-Ham, Spinneret, and Spider-Girl, along with the others who came to help, went back to their Earths, with the help of Karn. To help sustain his life-force, some of us allowed him to drain our energy, but in non lethal amounts. But now, it's time I returned home.
-----------------------------------
Earth 616
I walk up to the front door of the house, and I notice a sign on the door. It's an eviction noticed, dated almost a month from now. Turning the door knob, it's surprisingly unlocked. No lights on, so maybe everyone's just sleeping? Looking inside, there's nothing here. No furniture, nothing laying around on the floor, nothing. There's the bare bones, but that's it.
"Peter, is that you?" Teresa's voice fills the house, as I turn around to see her standing there, in the door frame, as I forgot to shut it behind me.
"Teresa, hey.. What's going on? Where is everything?" I ask, giving my sister the worlds biggest hug.
"Where have you been?" Teresa asks, noticing the battle damaged costume, along with the visible cuts and bruises on my face.
"That's uh kind of a long story. Could you please answer the question? I'm kind of about to pass out here, haven't slept for a while ya know."
"Peter.. You've been gone for two months."
------------------------------------
Earth 1337
Felicia's gone, the symbiote's gone. Left with nothing, but time in a jail cell, to think long and hard about what I've lost. It's all his fault. Those other Spider-Men.
"Inmate, looks like you've got a visitor today. Surprised there's someone that's still friend with a scumbag like you." He escorts me out of my cell, into the visitors center. I sit down, and across from me, is someone I don't recognize.
"Do I know you?"
"No, no you do not. My names Miles.. Miles Warren. But I have a proposition that I think you'd be interested in. One that would help you get revenge on the ones who let Felicia die, and reunite yourself with an old friend of yours, the symbiote. Well, not the exact same one, as that one's as good as gone. But one that is more improved."
"You had me at revenge." We shake hands, a new partnership formed.
This is spider webbing strung between old seed whorls of native Black Sage (Salvia mellifera, Lamiaceae). I believe this is the work of a Mesh Web Weaver spider in the family Dictynidae, see this photo from last week that actually shows the kind of tiny spider responsible. The webbing joins the seed whorls like rigging on a dusty ship model. I have no doubt that the spider is in one of those empty seed pockets maybe looking right at me. Happy Web Wednesday! (San Marcos Pass, 18 January 2021)
LC Verse Spider-Man #19 "The Beetle"
I swing through city from my webbing thinking of that lunatic calling himself Jack'O Lantern, the image of him plagues my mind. "Where are you Norman?" I mutter recalling yesterday when Jack'O Lantern abducted Norman Osborn from his office. To make the day worse my best friend Harry hasn't called me since yesterday, probably upset about his Dad. I'm quickly snapped out of my mindless city swinging by a man resembling a beetle soaring towards me, my eyes widen in shock as I recognise the mercenary known as 'The Beeetle'.
________________________________________________________________________________________
"You'll pay for not letting me kill him!" Beetle bellows as he raises his handgun up in mid flight firing it at me, I quickly dodge the shot and land a fist on his helmet knocking him downwards. "Killing is wrong, it's never the answer." I say to him diving through the air after him, I spray my webbing below him in a net like form and he lands in it. "He killed them, my wife, my child. I try and do the same but yet you stop me?!" He yells tearing through my webbing, I land next to him leaning back avoiding a hook from his fist. "He was a villain and I don't kill villains no matter what they've done. It makes us different to them." I say swinging my fist at him, he sidesteps quickly and I feel a sharp pain in my arm. "You are weak Spider-Man. You not killing Hydrowhirlwind killed my family, in technical terms you're a killer." He says pulling back his arm, that's when I notice the syringe of blood he has stolen from my arm. "Ow! What was that, you working for blood donors now?!" I quip holding my arm. "No. A client wants it." He glares at me through his glasses and takes off with his mechanised wings. I'm about to fire my webbing at his wings to take him down but I decide to follow him back to this "client".
LC Verse Spider-Man #35 "Make the call"
I spotted Jack'O Lantern soaring around OSCORP on his glider, the notorious Norman Osborn. I spray my webbing and begin to pursue him near OSCORP. My eyes widen in terror realising he's broken out of jail, "This is a bad idea." The voice in my head hisses into my ear. It's a small price to pay having something keep you alive by keeping my cancer at bay and giving you the abilities of Spider-Man. Even if it never shuts up. "Somethings off." It whispers as I swing towards Jack'O Lantern my blood boiling with rage remembering that he fused me with a parasite. A living material which traps you in your own body using you like a puppet. "Will you shut up?!" I yell in my head as I soar through the air readying my fist. Jack'O Lantern cackles flying purposely towards me " Like a moth to a flame you come!". I glare at him firing my webbing at his glider, "How did you get our!?" I demand. He cackles raising up his arm. "My father!"
__________________________________________________________________________________________
I swing my fist towards him but he blocks it casually and I land on his glider, he lifts me up by the throat squeezing it tight. I spray my webbing info his eyes but his mask burns through my webbing liquifying it. "I told you this was a trap!" My parasite sasy quietly into my ear. "Shut up!" I yell kicking free from the vice like grip of Jack'O Lantern, I fall back off his glider and crawl under it as we fly through the air. I feel it cascade rapidly downwards the wind whistling in my ears. "Going down!" I hear Jack'O Lantern yell, I look down only to see the pavement inches away from me. I smack into the gravely sidewalk sending pain shooting across my body, I groan in pain rolling off into the sidewalk. My head spins and just as I begin to get my wits about what is up and down I see a blurred foot of Jack'O Lantern deliver a powerful kick to the side of my jaw. I hear a sickening crack and I fall to the ground once more. "Healing." Whispers my parasite as it begins to use the healing factor on my loose jaw, Jack'O Lantern cackles throwing me down some sort of manhole leading into the sewer as if I weighed nothing. "You should of called Spider-Man!" Hisses the parasite into my ear making me jump.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
My maw heals and I straighten up getting to my feet, JL leaps down in front of me. His pumpkin mask lights up the sewer menacingly and I ready my fists. "Ah Eddie always the caveman." he cackles holding up a small device and it glows red. Suddenly a shrill pitch is emitted rippling its way towards me, I scream in agony as does my parasite, "Make it stop!" It screams. My suit begins to melt and peel from my flesh, I feel my cancerous cells ache once more because my suit is becoming detached. I fall backwards and the sound comes to a sudden halt I notice my suit has fallen weak and is pulsating gently on my chest. My phone has fallen out of my organic suit near JL. He smirks reaching down grabbing it then let's out an ominous chuckle. "Phone Spider-Man." I gasp and shake my head whimpering in pain as my cancer worsens causing a tremor of pain throughout my body. " Make the call."
I previously mentioned the spider webbing on the backs of the Wild Horses in the Namib Naukluft National Park of Namibia. It is clearly seen on the Stallion on the left as he fights with another herd Stallion.
The only waterhole in this area generates these Stallion to Stallion fights as each comes with his herd to water. This causes dominance fights between the herd Stallions as they come in contact with one another.
You can see that the one on the right very much appears to have thoroughbred bloodlines.
Light.
Blinding, unwavering light bursted into the sky. Like a beacon in the night, a lighthouse guiding those through the fog. It was warm, calm, welcoming.
Kyle's eyes felt almost forced open, the sight in front of him causing his jaw to slack. The webs surrounding him were gone, puddles of the goo splattered on the floor. Around him was that same light that shot through the sky, almost aura like.
Across from him stood the creature, it's head tilting to the side. Kyle eyed the monster, then his own hands. His eyes widened once more as he took in the shape of his body. All the lacerations he'd received from the webbing were gone, no scarring or marks as if they never happened at all.
"What is going on?" he asked, looking up at the creature. "Why am I asking you?!"
His body turned, his eyes locking onto the black webs. Ideas barreled through his mind, all leading to one thing.
Charge through.
-^- Lantern Lair, Coast City: 20 minutes ago -^-
All three stared in awe at the boy as he reached for the bag of chips on the left of his desk.
"Uh… that's… um," said Simon at a loss for words. "He looks like he could be my kid."
"He's in Coast City?" asked Jessica. "Isn't it kinda odd all of us are from Coast City?"
"Not the time," Hal commanded with haste in his voice. "We need to get to him, now."
Hal brought himself to a stand, turning his head to Simon. "Secure the projector then meet up with John and Guy," he said, turning to the exit. "I need to get to the kid as soon as possible."
Simon nodded, watching as Hal exited the building. Once alone, he turned to Jessica with a smile on his face. "So, how long do you think it'll take before the new guy gets a ring?"
"Simon…" she grumbled.
Simon held back a small chuckle before he gazed down at the projector. "Alright so… how do we turn this off?"
"Uh…"
Both lanterns looked at each other, then at the projector, then back to each other. "Hal is the only person in the world who'd give instructions but not give us the instructions," Simon sighed, looking back down to the projector.
"We could just contact him…" she said, tapping her ring.
"It's fine," Simon replied, waving his hand at her. "There's a big button with a green power symbol here."
"Wait Simon, maybe we should-"
The projector's lights flashed off as Simon's finger pressed the button, the whir of the machine silencing. Simon smirked, ready to speak before the machine once again lit up, a mix of green and white light.
"Uh oh."
The projector's shell began to protrude, components from inside following suit. Simon and Jessica took a step back as it began to transform from the machine to a humanoid. The rusted shell of the projector had flipped, revealing a sleek ice white metal. Black rubbery fabric went down the machine's thighs and biceps, the effect of white plated armor now being achieved. It's head was shielded by a white helmet with an exposed face made purely of green energy.
"Okay, that's not what I meant to do," Simon said, looking at Jessica with his hands raised.
"What is it's face saying?" she spoke, ignoring the man. "I can't make out the letters."
"What, do you need glasses?" he asked, smiling at her. "It says Aya."
Jessica took a step closer, squinting at the small text. "That says A.I, Simon…"
"O-oh… maybe I need the glasses," he said, rubbing the back of his head embarrassed.
"So… what is it?"
"I am a super intelligent A.I program created by Arin Sur, former wife of Thaal Sinestro and sister of Abin Sur, two former high level Green Lantern Corps members who each discovered emotional entities."
Simon and Jessica stared at the robot as it spoke, eyes wide in disbelief.
"My function is to track the emotional spectrum a lifeform is connected to," it said, tilting its head to the side. "Why have I been awakened?"
"Uh… Blackest Night is here." Simon said, his statement sounding more like a question he was asking himself.
"Understood. I see my database has already recorded the one connected to life, will we be going to assist him?"
Simon nodded his head, turning to Jessica. "Uh, so do we tell Hal Aya woke up?"
"Aya?"
-^-
Kyle felt his heart racing, his breathing speeding up as he eyed down the webs blocking his exit. He had two options. Either fight the monster, which was immediate death, or to try and use the light again and break the webs.
"I don't know how you broke them," the monster said, it's footsteps drawing ever closer, "but it's time you die."
Kyle's breath accelerated even faster, sweat rolling down his face. His shaky hand lifted into the air, hovering slightly in front of the webbing. With a push of his hand, he felt excruciating pain, worse than when he'd fallen in the webbing earlier. His hand recoiled back, now bearing deep wounds smeared in scarlet.
"You attempted to get through them?" the creature asked once more, close enough now for Kyle to feel it's breathing on his shoulder. "Resilience is strong in you."
Kyle's eyes fell closed, his shoulders dropping from the tensed height they were at. The nervousness that filled his entire being disappeared once more, the serenity he'd felt before his near-death experience returning.
Like he wasn't in control at all.
His eyelids opened, bright white lights shining out of them. His whole body turned, the white radiating around him in a heavenly aura.
"The One's Blessing: Weaved Sanctuary."
Webbing launched from his body, it's color a blinding white rather than the pitch black of his adversary. The threads attached to the walls and ground, much like the ones the creature used, yet these radiated something different. They felt strong, serene, and full of life.
They felt good.
The threads soon made contact with the zombie, one catching it by the leg. The limb was instantaneously severed, causing the creature to tumble over. Another thread came whipping down to the fallen zombie, the thread removing it's left arm.
'What's going on?' Kyle echoed in his mind, no words turkey coming out of his mouth.
Another web came crashing down, slicing it's torso in half.
One final web went down at an angle, removing it's right hand and head simultaneously.
At an instant a loud screech echoes through the alleyway. The ring on it's right hand slowly melted into a black ooze, it's body slowly beginning to decay into dust.
Kyle felt the serene white energy dissipate from his body, the exhaustion causing him to slide down the building wall. A sharp pain shot up his arm as he felt his full consciousness return. Pulling up his sleeve, his eyes widened. A large scar rode his forearm, a faint white glow radiating from the skin.
"What the hell is even going on anymore?" he asked, leaning his head against the wall. His eyes trailed. Down to the decaying corpse, catching a glimpse of it's eyes returning to a brown before it fully dusted.
"Kyle Rayner?"
His gaze moved from the bow decayed body to the sky, eyes widening at the sight.
"Green L-Lantern?"
-^-
John opened his eyes, the throbbing of his head causing him to wince. He held himself still for a moment before shooting up to a stand. "Jade? Obsidian? Guy?" he frantically asked before his eyes set on the sight in front of him. In the midst of being hugged by his children was Alan.
Alan was there. Not the zombiafied puppet of Black Hand, but Alan. He wore his original uniform, bar the mask. His hair flowed and skin, though more wrinkled than before, was full of color.
He was alive.
"A… Alan?" he asked hesitantly, the two hugging the man breaking away. "I… is that you?"
Alan stepped forward, his cloak flowing with the wind. "Hey John," he greeted, a smile on his face.
John took cautious steps forward before wrapping his arms around him. "Y-you're okay. You're alive…" he whispered, a few tears leaking from his eyes.
Alan patted the man on the back. "Yeah, seems I am," he said, chuckling slightly at the younger man. "But now isn't the time for reunions. I've been filled in on everything."
"You have? John asked, breaking away from the hug. "How?"
"He is the Paragon of Willpower."
Everyone on the rooftop turned to the new voice that had appeared. Stood on edge of the roof was a man dressed in dark blue, a large black collared cloak blowing in the wind. On his head sat a black fedora that covered his eyes.
"Who are you?!" Guy asked, raising his ring into the air aimed at the man.
"Guy, stand down," Alan said, waving his gauntlet welding hand at the ginger. "This is an ally."
The man continued to stay on the edge of the rooftop, though raising his head to view the group, revealing his piercing white eyes.
"My name is the Phantom Stranger," he said, introducing himself with a tip of his hat, "and like Ion has said, I am not your enemy."
"Ion?" Jade asked, looking to her father.
"I take it that the two Lanterns here know of emotional entities, yes?" he asked, earning a nod from Guy and John each. "Good. As you know, each emotion in the spectrum has an entity. In the hidden prophecy, it is stated that all entities must form together to create The One, the entity of Life.
"I was asked by… an old friend to contact the entities and inform them of what is occurring. Ion was the first to respond, linking itself with Alan Scott of earth, breaking death's hold on him. The other entities are not so pleased with being forced to bond and have yet to leave their power batteries."
"Oh god, don't tell me…" Guy groaned.
"You must travel to each planet and unleash the other entities," the man explained, earning a loud groan from Guy. "Only then will you be able to summon The One. Only then will you be able to end Nekron."
"How do we unleash them?" John asked, stepping forward. "You said it yourself, they're unwilling to leave their batteries."
"That is not my place, John Stewart," he said, a blue mist rising from beneath him. "But know this, I bear you with good fortune. You shall need it." The smoke encompassed his body before disappearing, his body along with it.
"Well that's just great, we get to go on a road trip," Guy grumbled, crossing his arms. "Why can't it for once just be the giant space shit coming to us?"
"I doubt you want a repeat of April," John said with a small smirk before his ring gave a small beep. "John, Guy, get downtown, now."
-^-
Hal was knelt down next to the boy, examining his right arm. The glowing scar. He'd seen the prophecy and knew what this meant.
The One's power was used without a conduit.
Like each light of the emotional spectrum, the power ring serves as a conduit for the power. It can only handle so much before it needs a recharge, and too much power exerted at once can cause it to break. Organisms, even those with the strongest of a given emotion, can't manifest enough of the emotion to create constructs without a power ring. When something can however, the body simply can't handle it.
"I… I don't understand it at all… " Kyle said, his voice low and confused.
Hal expected as much. To explain a prophecy like Blackest Night to a boy his age? To tell him he was the Paragon of Life itself and the chosen one to save the universe?
He'd be scared too.
"Ha- I mean, Green Lantern…" a voice called out. Simon's voice. He turned to see both Simon and Jessica flying down to the ground, though they weren't alone.
Behind them was an android, it's color a sleek ice white. It had some type of rubber-like material under the armor as well as a green led faceplate.
"What…?"
"This is… Aya…" Simon stated, rubbing the back of his head. "The um… the projector…"
"Arin's creation…" Hal mumbled, staring at android before he shook his head. "That's not important right now. He is."
"He's The One?" another voice asked. Hal turned to see John and Guy. Accompanying them were Jade, Todd, and…
"Alan?"
"I think it's time we compare notes," Guy said, his right hand pointing behind him at Alan.
-^- Space Sector 666, Keshtar Belt -^-
"What happened to my puppet!?" Hand asked, his blood boiling and fists clenched. His head twisted, eyes locking onto Corrigan. "This… was your doing…"
"I have not left since you enacted your plan, poser," Corrigan responded, his eyes shifting from Hand back to the stars. "I simply asked a favor of an old friend."
Hand lifted his arm into the air, ring aimed at the spirit.
"You can not hurt the Spectre."
Hand's arm lowered back down to his side, eyes closing. "That means the emotional entities…"
"They have been notified of Blackest Night. The Lanterns of Earth shall be attempting to tame them as we speak."
"Well then," Hand responded, raising his arm into the air, "we can fix that…"
"By my black hand… the dead… shall…
"Rise!!!"
In front of him, black goo began amassing, Hand's lips curving up into a wicked smile.
The goo slowly formed bodies, vascular systems and skeletons, muscles and pale grey skin. Black armored clothing followed by black rings.
"Hand…" Spectre grimaced, his eyes staring at the creations in front of Hand.
"Carter Hall, Kendra Saunders, Dan Garrett, Albert Pratt, Terry Sloane, Abigail Hunkel, Dinah Drake, and Ted Knight… the Spectre's former friends..."
Corrigan's head lowered. Hand was not finished, his smile growing ever wider.
"Prince Nabu of Egypt. J'ozeff M'eech, The Composite Superman. Atlan, the first king of Atlantis. Edward Claris, the Rival. Jesse Hyde, The Manta. Punch and his WMD, Tensil Chem."
Starr had now locked up from his sand filled hourglass, marvelling at the mass of undead in front of them.
"Finally… Katma Tui Stewart… and Abin Sur…"
"You've… y-you can't possibly co-control them all at o-o-once…" Starr said, his voice shaky and low.
"You underestimate the power of Black Hand."
-^- Earth, Coast City -^-
"So we're up against death itself and our only way to win is gathering the entities for him?" Guy asked, pointing to Kyle. "That's a lot of work, how much time do we have?"
"Ion estimates a day, at the maximum," Alan confirmed. "That doesn't mean Nekron can't emerge earlier though."
Hal nodded his head, overlooking the group. "We're going to need to split into pairs," he said, creating a construct of each lantern emblem, crossing out Willpower. "We already have Ion, which leaves The Butcher, The Predator, Ophidian, Adara, Proselyte, and Parallax.
"Each team will go for one of the emotions," he explained, his construct forming stick figures heading to each emblem. "When a team secures the entity, they head to the next one."
"The Death Power Battery is located in the dead zone, or Sector 666," John added, looking to the group. "We reconvine there once we collect the entities."
"Jade and myself…" Todd said, gaining the attention of everyone. "We both are… low on energy after the fight."
Alan winced, clenching his fist. "Damn…"
"No, it's okay, dad," Jade reassured, smiling at her father. "Someone is gonna need to stay here incase any more of them show up anyways, right?"
The man was silent for a moment before nodding his head. "Yes… yes you're right."
"Alright, if that's settled… who is going for what?" Jessica asked, causing the group to fall silent once more.
"I'll take rage," Guy finally said, breaking the silence. "I've been meaning to punch Atrocitus in his dumb red jaw."
"Allow me to accompany you, Guy Gardner," the white android spoke. "I believe I will be of most assistance with the Red Lantern Corps."
"Guy?" Hal asked, looking at him.
"Yeah," Guy agreed with a not. "Guess an android won't be able to piss 'em off nearly as much as one of you idiots."
"Simon, you and Jess should go for Hope," Hal suggested, turning towards them. "Saint Walker should be helpful, which means you can cover a second quickly."
"Right." "You got it."
"I'll get Greed," John said, causing Hal's eyes to fixate on him.
"John… I don't think th-"
"No," he said, interrupting Hal. "I'm going for it, we need to get it locked down as quickly as possible, before Nekron strikes some kind of deal with it."
"I'll go with him, Hal," Alan offered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be in and out."
"Guess that leaves me with the kid," Hal said, looking to Kyle. "I'll… I'll handle…
"Love."
The group was once again silent, Kyle looking between everyone with confusion. "What's wrong with Love?" he asked, scratching his head. "It sounds more tame than a lot of these."
"I'll.. I'll explain on the way," Hal said, earning a nod from Kyle. "Alright… this… this is the most important mission we've ever had…
"So let's show that son of a bitch what a Green Lantern is."
Here are two shots of a little Jumping Spider (Salticidae) staying dry under an open-mesh web in the Oregon woods. The spider is hard to see in the shot on the left which I got while it was raining, but look in the center towards the top. I got the shot on the right on the next day when the rain had stopped. The spider looks quite dry under its webbing, a testament to the power of surface tension. I don't think of these spiders spinning webs, but here it is. This spider is among the needles on a branch of a Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii, Pinaceae) sapling in the Oregon woods. After I noticed this one, I found several more doing the same thing. The spider in my [Previous] photo has more deluxe accommodations. Happy Web Webnesday! (Near Susan Creek, North Umpqua River, Oregon, 8 September 2019)