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Gacha God: Cheating to Victory (ch. 4)
🕑 Added 2022-10-22 14:54:48 +0000 UTCGiven that I was going to be seen on the news, and I had some extra time between the murders of past me, I had gotten a change of clothes. Not particularly because I wanted to look nice for the cameras -- I honestly don't think I could have cared less even if I actively tried -- but to avoid being traced. New York City had cameras everywhere. Just not where crimes happened for some weird reason. But, going out in the same clothes that I would have been recorded wearing by dozens of cameras would make it way too easy for interested parties to find me.
It wouldn’t stop the really determined ones of course, but it was a matter of principle. I didn’t like making it easy to find me.
What I decided on was some clothes picked out from a couple of timelines -- White tank top with a DnD meme on the front. A very lame pun. Over it was a threadbare red cardigan jacket thing with a hood that I left unbuttoned. A pair of charcoal black pants. All of which would still be on the racks in this timeline. The mask had been altered to have some eye shielding, the strap was also replaced to be better secured, while a fanny-pack was slung over my shoulder to keep the Golden Scarab in. The Divine Water was already in the Cave of Wonders, which might have finally started earning its name…
As I threw myself over the edge of Midtown High, the wind fluttered my jacket, and when I landed on the ground without shattering my legs, I felt great about this timeline. And almost as if to agree with me, I saw a very familiar window appear before me.
You have earned an Item Roll
Items Available:
Neuromods
Ope Ope no Mi
Split Parts
Hestia Knife
Psi-Scimitar
Black Book
Lightsaber
Bag of Holding
Luck Potion (Felix Felicis)
The Eye of Cthulhu
Samehada
Magic Hammer
Crystal Skull
Arca Plasmor
Pursuit Special
Changing Hat
Omni-Tool
Corvo's Mask
Memory Eraser
Oathbreaker
Without missing a beat, I reached my hand into the screen that remained in front of me, taking a holographic D20 before flinging it far off into the distance. It bounced off of cars, people, and buildings, spinning wildly all the while until its momentum died out. A 10 was pointed up at the sky before the D20 vanished, revealing a… yoyo?
Scooping it up, another window appeared before me.
The Eye of Cthulhu
A yoyo crafted from one of the eyes of Cthulhu. A powerful melee weapon capable of firing projectiles.
Okay. Not going to lie. That was kind of fucking metal -- Imagine beating the shit out of Cthulhu, carving an eye right out of his skull, then turning that eye into a yoyo of all things. Pretty wild. Fully on board with it. The yoyo itself was a little creepy looking. At the center of the two wheels was a black pupil that felt like it was looking at me framed by white. The entire thing felt like it was made out of either glass or obsidian. A silver ring that was marked with a language that seemed to shift the more I looked at it, like trying to see a spec in your eye.
The yoyo itself was solid evidence that the item gacha played by no rules but its own -- I had generally no idea how many timelines I had gone through, but technically speaking, I’ve only been repeating the same three hours or so. So, whatever decided that I earned a roll was beyond the realm of time. Not that I was complaining -- I wasn’t sure how a yoyo could be considered a melee weapon, but I was more than willing to try to find out.
Right then, a volunteer made himself known. The map I had, along with the journal, gave me a very rough idea of the unaltered movements of the Chitauri when I wasn’t involved. Naturally speaking, the map was far more detailed at the start before trailing off in detail the closer I got to the Stark Tower by virtue of me being the variable that changed things. A Chitauri speeder had three aliens on it that flew above the streets as they opened fire on the citizens below.
My body was stronger than it ever had been before. I could feel it. Before, I was worried about big jumps because while I could stick the landing, I’d probably break something. Now the worry was that my Air Treks would break rather than my bones. Gunning the throttle, I ramped up the side of a delivery truck, shooting into the air like a speeding bullet.
Sliding the ring onto my finger, I flicked the yoyo out and the Eye of Cthulhu flew forward on a silver string, which I quickly realized was completely arbitrary in length. A few dozen feet were crossed and shrank as we raced to collide. My yoyo slammed into the speeder with the explosive force of a hand grenade, knocking the tip of the ship down. However, more than that, upon impact a half dozen other yoyos emerged from the Eye of Cthulhu, pummeling the Chitauri speeder under a barrage that tore the vehicle apart.
So cool. So fucking cool. I love this yoyo. I needed to look up how to do tricks on Youtube. But, for now, I spun sharply in midair, twisting while I flicked the yoyo back a bit. Building momentum, I brought the yoyo down on the chariot part of the speeder, missing all three of the aliens, but with the AOE damage, it didn’t matter. The aliens were pummeled by yoyos that struck them with thunderous force.
Even better? The phantom yoyos that missed homed in on one of the three aliens, striking them from the sides and back.
“I love it,” I breathed, hitting the ground and continuing on as the speedster crashed behind me. I love it so much. I got to beat the shit out of aliens with a yoyo! My life was so fucking awesome. Every day was a great day to be me, but today was a better day than usual! With a great big smile on my face, I pressed on, blasting through the streets at speeds I normally wouldn’t dare, weaving between traffic and debris, and searching for aliens.
With one hand, I wielded the Eye of Cthulhu and in the other, I onehanded an alien rifle. My aim was truly something to weep at, but for the aliens clinging to the walls, even a wide miss was enough to dislodge them. I skated up, wall-riding across a deli shop, firing and lashing out with my yoyo to devastating effect. Aliens fell, collapsing, just as I took down speeders. My blood hummed in my veins, filled with adrenaline, and I found myself closing in so I could use my yoyo more.
It would be a stretch to say that I had the area memorized, but as I turned a corner, I knew what I would see -- Captain America, Natasha, and Clint. The three of them took up a position on the street, helping people get out of a bus while Chitauri began to swarm overhead. I lazily twisted in the air, lashing out with my yoyo, it slammed into the body of an alien that was leaping down towards half of the Avengers, dropping him, before I ramped off the top of the bus itself. This time, the yoyo string was about fifty feet long when I flicked it at the bottom of a speedster, knocking it off course and directly into a building that it crashed through.
Landing on the ground, I saw the three glancing at me, “The metro tunnels are safe. Get them there,” I instructed, taking aim with my alien gun. And I didn’t make a fool out of myself by missing a shot at a speeder that banked down, going over a building to use it for cover until it was too late. It helped when you had a general idea of what was going to be coming where. Time travel was convenient like that.
“And who are you, Roller Derby?” Natasha questioned and I took a moment to reflect on the nickname. Yoyo? Check. Roller skates? Check. Fanny pack? May not be on my fanny, but it was there. It all checked out. Shit. I should never be allowed to dress myself.
“If I was going to answer questions like that, I wouldn’t be wearing a mask. I’m going to nip this whole problem in the bud, so you lot focus on evacuating civilians. Later, losers,” I said, throwing a wave over my shoulder as I continued on, heading straight to Stark Tower. It wasn’t like I wanted widescale death or anything, but what was the bigger fuck you? The door never opening in the first place or getting it slammed in your face?
“Did he just call us losers?” I heard Clint question before I sped off, ignoring the people in favor of thrashing the aliens. I skated up the side of a building, lunging out with a hand that caught the edge of a fire escape, my fingerless gloves -- because why not -- prevented me from losing the skin on my hand and allowed me to change my trajectory. Flying up, I caught the side of another building and wall-riding it, I fought all along the way.
I was getting used to the yoyo. My Air Treks gave me a bit of experience with predicting trajectories, but even when I missed, the homing phantom yoyos made sure that I at least got a few hits in. My alien gun clicked empty, and I tossed it to the side before scooping up another when I saw the payday symbol that I had placed on a rooftop.
Leaping from building to building, I sailed above the battleground below, clearing things out where I could. I caught sight of Iron Man more than once, almost as if he were shadowing me. He fired off missiles while shooting lasers from his gauntlets -- he seemed to have a lot of toys in that suit of his. Perks of being a genius and a billionaire, I suppose. For every one that I killed, he must have killed three, so between the two of us, we were putting a solid dent in the numbers.
The Stark Tower loomed closer and closer as I bounced between buildings. With my rifle, I took a few shots at the tower, busting the glass planes inward to make an opening. Gunning my Air Treks, I made the final leap, jumping across a street into the tower. The wind nearly blew back my hood and, for a split second, I thought I might have misjudged the jump, only to land straight into the opening and my momentum carried me forward. Slamming on the brakes, I skidded to a halt just before the private elevator.
Rolling my shoulder, I punched in the password that I found in the journal -- a real mess of numbers and letters -- and the private elevator opened right up for me.
“Okay,” I heard coming over the speakers in the elevator instead of the rock music I was told to expect. “That’s creepy. Why do you know the password to my elevator? My private elevator?” Tony Stark’s voice filtered through the speakers, sounding rather annoyed.
“Don’t worry about it,” I responded, idly flicking my yoyo down to walk the dog on the floor. From what I could tell, it reacted to my desire to hit something instead of being a weapon all the time. So, I also got to play with it.
“People only say that about things I should be worried about,” Tony remarked. “You think you can handle what’s up there? Do you even know what you’re dealing with?” He asked me, sounding stressed for a moment as he continued to fight outside of the building.
“Loki, god of mischief,” I answered. “Shield’s files aren’t as secure as they think they are,” I lied. Better they think that I had somehow hacked into Shield than realizing that I learned everything through time travel. They would scour their files for malware and, by virtue of being a secret agency, they were bound to find a few. One would be attributed to me, and they would find moles and stuff in their super secret agency that dealt in weird shit, so, technically, I was doing them a favor.
“You’re right about that one,” Tony remarked, and I took it that he actually had access to Shield files. Probably without asking. “You think you can take him?” He asked as the elevator came to a stop and slid open, revealing Loki who stood in the penthouse, a snarl of a smile on his lips with the scepter in hand.
“Oh, I’m going to slap the stuffing right out of him,” I said, rolling forward, flicking my yoyo back to my palm. Another neat thing I learned about it was that it was very generous in terms of momentum. The elevator doors closed behind me as I flicked my yoyo back down, entering the penthouse with a confident swagger.
Loki spread his hands out wide, “Another wayward hero trying to stop me? When will you people learn that I’m doing this for your sake! Humanity desires a ruler! It desires a god,” Loki snarled at me, my yoyo smacking into the palm of my hand as his scepter glowed blue.
“Meh,” I shrugged, rolling forward. “Couldn’t care less about that,” I told him, making Loki narrow his eyes ever so slightly. “Maybe you’re right. People are sheep that are perfectly happy rolling around in shit so long as they don’t know that someone out there is rolling in a better pile of it. But that’s not the reason I’m about to smack the motherfuck out of you.”
“And what reason would that be?” Loki questioned, cocking his head in vague interest.
“You don’t know your place,” I told him and instantly, his expression became stormy. “You want to rule over humanity? Then say that. Don’t hide behind bullshit excuses like you’re doing this for us. You want to rule over humanity because you want to feel powerful, and you opened up a portal above a major population center because you don’t give a shit about the millions of people here. Say it. Own it. I might respect you a little for it.”
“You speak as if you don’t,” Loki remarked, a deadly edge in his tone, telling me that every word I just said went in one ear and out the other.
“Respect you? No, not at all. I’m going to be scraping you off my boots like a turd I stepped in,” I confirmed. “But it’s not because you’re an egotistical mass murderer. So long as you really believe in what you’re doing? By all means, have right at it,” I told him and that seemed to make him pause. I think he was catching the hint that no, I was not, in fact, a hero. I liked heroes. Respected them, even. But I couldn’t ever be one, even if at some points, there was overlap.
For me, people needed to believe in what they were doing. Enough that they could say the truth -- the real truth -- proudly and they could admit it to themselves. If they did? Then I could respect them. I could acknowledge them as an equal because that’s exactly what I did.
Attacking the city? Dick move, but it was hardly like I was going to weep over every life lost. I didn’t know them, they didn’t know me and at the end of the day, everyone died at some point. Why cry about that? Why rebel at the thought of it? Getting killed in an alien invasion, or by a car accident, or from too many cheeseburgers and a clogged artery… What was the difference? Everyone was always taken too soon since no one was ever fully prepared for someone they loved to die. Every death had an impact on the lives of the people that person had been close to.
You couldn’t do anything about that. Short of curing death itself, and I couldn’t, so why bother? Why not just accept death was what it was? Painful, traumatic, and inevitable.
No. I was here purely for my own reasons -- Because I wanted to kick the shit out of the guy that led an attack on a population center and the aliens that carried out that attack. It was fucked up. It reeked of a guy lashing out with power because he had it, rather than anything that told me he actually believed in what he was doing. Seeing him and having a short conversation confirmed as much.
“I’m here because I want to kick the shit out of you. That’s it. No grand crusade to right the wrongs of the world or because I care about a bunch of people I’ve never met. I do whatever I want to do and I don’t do whatever I don’t want to do,” I told Loki just as much as I was telling whoever watched this recording. To make where I stood clear.
To punctuate the proclamation, I flicked my yoyo out at Loki, which he batted to the side, only to be caught in the legs and side by phantom yoyos. Jerking my arm to the side, I had the yoyo wrap around the shaft of his scepter while he grunted in pain. The yoyo was having a less devastating effect on Loki, but I anticipated that. I was up against one of the norse gods, and if he was easy to put down, then history wouldn't have remembered him as a god in the first place. In that same moment, I gunned the throttle, going from zero to sixty in two seconds and threw a high knee at Loki’s face.
My knee slammed into the bridge of his nose, snapping his head back while I yanked my hand back, trying to rip the scepter from his hands. However, even as his nose bled from the blow, Loki responded by trying to slash at me with his scepter. Using the silver thread, I made it go taut and shrink in a fraction of a second, diverting me out of the way of the slash with a flip. Landing on my feet, the yoyo became unfurled and I flicked it at his chest and Loki was knocked back like he was kicked by a horse.
With the yoyo, the momentum seemed limitless. Even as the yoyo slammed into him, knocking him through the open bar that Tony had in his apartment for some reason, the yoyo continuously struck both with its physical form and the phantom yoyos. Six times a second, by my count, and all I had to do was stand there with the yoyo out while Loki was bombarded continuously.
“Enough, damn you-!” Loki snarled. He was pretty durable, but from his reaction to the onslaught it sure didn’t sound like he was enjoying the experience. I pressed down on the brakes and the gas at the same time, making my wheels grind into the ground at high speeds, smoke drifting up as I burnt out. Right as Loki was going to lash out at the yoyo that drove him into a wall that was slowly crumbling, I shot forward and drop-kicked him in the chest.
He grunted but he still wasn’t out of the fight. He lashed out with his scepter, the blade catching me in the side, and just barely nicking me even as it effortlessly cut through my clothing. Blood dripped down his nose and over his chin, his face and body sporting what looked like bruises. I dodged out of the way of the worst of the staff and countered the other by grabbing my yoyo and using the wire to catch the blade. With flick, I tossed the yoyo directly into Loki’s face, knocking his head back like he took a strong punch, and I followed it up by spitting in his eye.
“You vile creature,” Loki howled, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket and ripping off my middle finger when he pulled his scepter back to plunge it into my chest. I backed off, dodging out of the way of the stab while a hand went to my fanny pack to pull out my pack of cigarettes. More importantly, my lighter. Flipping open the zippo, I ignited it just as Loki was pulling himself out of the wall, soaked thoroughly with alcohol, and I threw the lighter right at him.
Loki went up like a Christmas tree, completely enveloped in flames. I had hoped that might do something, but instead, I heard what could be the most annoyed sigh I had ever heard. “I do hope you’ve enjoyed yourself,” Loki stated, stepping forward despite the flames, sounding casual as could be. “Because you shall suffer a thousandfold for every indignity that you have inflicted upon me.”
“Doubt it,” I responded, flicking my yoyo out, catching him in the gut, and as soon as it struck, I drew it back in. The game had changed. Lingering attacks wouldn’t work, and I imagine his vision was at least a little fucked up on account of the fire and smoke. To that end, I changed how I used the yoyo, instead treating it like a morning star of sorts and beating the holy hell out of Loki at a distance.
Loki understood the game too because he went right for me, slashing at me with his scepter that glowed blue in the flames. He wasn’t a gifted fighter, I thought, flipping over a couch while I continued to assault Loki with the yoyo, pummeling him. He kicked the couch, sending it flying at me, but I was able to slide underneath it with no difficulty. He was strong, fast, and durable. I could deal with his speed, and his durability wasn’t so much that I couldn’t overcome it, but I didn’t have an answer for his strength. If he got me once with a good hit, then shattered bones would be the least of my problems.
The blade flashed out, closing in on me and I narrowed my eyes at it. I felt like I was winning the fight, but dragging it out also seemed like a bad idea. I walked the dog with my yoyo, drawing Loki in, before flicking my hand up and sending the yoyo directly between his legs. When it came to fighting, no one fought dirtier than me. I heard Loki gasp, the flames around him dying off as the alcohol was burnt off. He fell to a knee, clutching his groin. Flicking the yoyo back into my palm, I spun sharply, building up momentum with my Air Treks, and slammed the yoyo into the side of his head.
This time, Loki hit the ground face first. Using my yoyo as a whip, I tore the scepter from his hand and tossed it into mine. The scepter seemed to hum with power under my palm. Flipping the grip, I stepped forward just as Loki was starting to rise. “I-” he started, cutting himself off when I drove the blade down into his back, letting out a strangled gasp. Ripping the blade out, a content sigh escaped me.
“That was entertaining,” I decided, leaving Loki to collapse in a puddle of his own blood before I rolled out of the penthouse. I decided I really should deal with the portal before I double tapped him. There was an alien invasion going on, after all. Rolling up, I saw Erik looking at his creation with an expression of regret and awe. Then hope when he took notice of me when I landed next to him.
“You have the scepter! It’s not too late, you can close the portal! It’s surrounded by an energy field, but with the scepter you can breach it!” Erik informed me as I rolled over to the doodad with the spinning blue cube.
That sure was convenient, “Sure,” I decided, thrusting the scepter forward before and the bloodied tip of the blade touched the energy field a second later. The machine was surrounded by swirling shades of blue, the energy shield if I had to guess, but it was being stressed where the scepter touched. It was trying to reject me, but not hard enough because the blade inched closer to the blue spinning cube. Gritting my teeth, I gave it a final good push and the top of the blade just barely touched the cube before all of a sudden, it stopped spinning.
“Y-you did it!” Erik shouted, elated while I looked up at the sky to see that the line of energy that kept the portal open faded into nothing and the portal itself was shrinking. A handful of Chitauri managed to slip through the closing hole, but they were the last ones. Sadly, though, the moment the portal closed, the aliens seemed to shut off. Like someone had hit the off switch, or, rather, they couldn’t get a signal.
“I hope aliens never watch any Earth movies about their invasions. They might figure out that giving their army an off switch is a bad idea,” I muttered with a shake of my head, disappointed in the aliens.
“You’d think so,” Erik returned, sounding elated that the nightmare was over. The battle for New York was won about thirty minutes in and before the second wave could arrive in the city. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect scenario by most people’s standards, but for mine, this was as good as it was going to get.
“Ah, well. I got two trophies,” I decided, the yoyo in my palm faded into nothing and flowed into the silver ring that I wore. I opened up a hand to grab the blue glowing rock that burnt the absolute shit out of my fingers when I touched it as it floated within the machine. Letting out an annoyed sigh, my hands went to the fanny pack at the center of my chest to take out the Golden Scarab to unite the two pieces. It came to life while I grabbed the oven mitt that was also in the fanny pack -- I had no idea what it was for until now.
Grabbing the blue cube, which was far easier with the oven mitt, I leapt off the building to follow the Golden Scarab that took off into the city. Over my shoulder, and with the sound of rushing wind in my ears, I heard Erik shout, “Wait! Don’t take that! It’s dangerous!”
I knew that. It’s exactly why I wanted it. It was a pretty color and it opened a portal into outer space. Totally awesome.
A laugh escaped me as I skated down the side of the Stark Tower, stabbing the concrete support with the scepter to slow my descent and carving a long line down the side. Once I reached the right height, I leapt forward with all of my strength, sailing through the air to land on a building across from the Stark Tower. My knees ached from the landing, but I didn’t break anything. The Golden Scarab fluttered forward, turning a busted-out glass pane into the entrance of the Cave of Wonders.
With a lazy flip, I landed at the lip of the entrance. Rounding a corner revealed a much fuller Cave of Wonders than there had been at the start of this little adventure -- Past me's had reclaimed the unneeded payday drops and put them in the cave where time wouldn’t matter. Because of it, I had some serious hardware -- alien weapons, human weapons, and now a neat glowing cube and a scepter that I used to probably kill a god. Dumping them on the ground, I took the time to take off my Air Treks and my clothes to another set that had been prepared.
People were going to come looking for me. I wasn’t under any delusions that wasn’t the case, but I had won these trophies fair and square and if anyone wanted to take them from me, they could pry them from my cold dead hands. Flipping up a hood to the black hoodie I now wore, I picked up the two halves of the Golden Scarab. All that was left was getting rid of the prep work I had left behind at Midtown highschool in case this hadn’t been the run.
Tucking my hands into my pockets, I made my way through the city at a far more sedate pace. I did see the Avengers helping people out, aiding the relief efforts the moment that the battle had ended. I didn’t see Thor, the Hulk, nor Iron Man, but they were probably looking for me or helping in other parts of the city. I didn’t give them any reason to suspect me as I made my way past the destruction to the perimeter that they had established, then beyond it.
Midtown High was on lockdown when I arrived, but like every door there, the locks had been thoroughly picked. I’m not sure if they even could lock properly at this point. Re-entering the building proved that the teachers had gotten everything mostly under control. There was still some shouting, but now that the battle was over, people were mostly just calling their parents and loved ones.
It was a straight shot up to the roof, but as soon as the door opened, I saw a complication. Peter, Ned, Mary Jane, and a girl that I didn’t recognize were all on the rooftop poking around my stuff.
“Sebastian!” Peter exclaimed, making the girl that I didn’t recognize snap my journal shut and try very hard to pretend like she absolutely hadn’t been caught. She was pretty in a natural way -- no make up, her hair was a mess of curls, and she had on a loose shirt with a few holes in it under a similar red hoodie. “You’re okay-”
“You’re totally a superhero!” Ned blurted, practically vibrating from excitement. “This is so cool! This is the best day of my entire life,” he decided, and I could physically feel how sincere the words were. Kind of wild. “There are already clips about you on youtube!”
Mary Jane stepped forward, “You stopped the invasion?” She questioned, cutting to the heart of the matter and I wasn’t exactly shocked about the questions. From their point of view, it only made sense and it wasn’t like I was hiding that it was me. Well, I was, but that was mostly to inconvenience the super secret spy agencies for the sake of inconveniencing them.
“Yup,” I answered, holding out a hand for the newcomer, who eyed me suspiciously for a moment. Her skin was light mocha, but her eyes were more of a chocolate brown. She obediently handed over the journal, “and you are?”
“Michelle. Jones,” Michelle answered, her tone curt and unfriendly. As she handed over the journal, Peter and Ned were sharing a high ten. “You’re a superhuman? Is that what Peter made?”
I shook my head, “That was to help me survive what I took. And I would keep what happened here to yourselves,” I added, instantly making Ned’s face fall.
“Seriously?” He asked, and I felt like I had kicked a puppy.
“Well, you can tell people if you want, but you’ll end with a few secret agencies breathing down your neck. Your call,” I answered with an uncaring shrug. Ned muttered ‘Sweet’ under his breath, excited about the prospect but Peter was shaking his head so hard that his glasses nearly fell off.
Mary Jane punched me in the shoulder, a smile on her face, “Well, good going saving the day.” She said, leaning in and giving me a kiss on the cheek. When she pulled back, there was a downright dangerous smirk tugging at the edge of her lips. I smirked right back -- if there was one thing that I enjoyed in this world, it was danger.
Peter blushed and scratched at his cheek, “So… what do we do now?” He asked everyone else, but the question did seem more directed at me than not. “Are we, like, your sidekicks now?” Ned lit up like a Christmas tree at the idea, practically glowing.
“To clarify something, I’m not a superhero. I generally just do my own thing, and in this case, that thing was stopping an alien invasion and stabbing Loki,” I told them, not giving them any preconceived notions about what I did. Michelle looked like she had a lot of questions about me stabbing the God of Mischief, but she swallowed those down. “Secondly, don’t go calling yourselves sidekicks. Have a little pride.”
Peter bit his lip before he glanced over at Stark Tower, which was still lit up, and at the damaged city. “I think… we did something really good today. I mean, we weren’t physically there, but we helped. I… want to do that again,” Peter decided, speaking up and he seemed to surprise everyone with the bout of confidence. I smirked when Peter turned his gaze to me. “You can do your own thing and we’ll do our own thing… but whenever you need help, you can come to us?”
Huh. You really couldn’t judge a book by its cover.
“Sure. Sounds good to me.”
Comments
Lanceilion
I am pretty sure they just couldn't get a signal from their mothership with the portal closed.
Lucas Thompson
It'd be pretty crazy if one the consequences from this is that Iron Man dies. It was stated the the Chitauri went offline which means someone threw the nuke in. And he didn't see Iron Man helping out afterwards.
DorbenRS
Idk, man. Zendaya is hot right, but she's really being overhyped by everyone. She's hot, but not mind blowingly hot. Maybe I'm wrong though. What do I, a Filipino man, know about beauty standards in Hollywood?
Leif Pipersky
Does Michelle Jones look like Zendaya? Because calling her "pretty in a natural way" seems a bit light. I mean, people in comic book universes and Hollywood movies have a higher standard of beauty, but even in those universes, she is a solid 10.
