✯ a wonder ; miracle ✯

❝...Can I punch a planet out of orbit?❞

❝Hafta' admit Sue, I've... never tried.❞ If a clumsy breeze could roll through the baxter building's cafeteria right now, it would do so with a dancing enthusiasm. It almost syncs up with the logic backflipping in her cereal cortex; should she feel insulted? Paranoid? Concerned? All at once?

❝I mean--❞ She barely squints at her friend as she begins, like the sun was beating down on her. ❝--do you think I just do weird shit like going around punching planets for the hell of it?❞

Several known laws of the universe exist in reality. Twelve of them, in fact. The thirteenth was one very few and very infamous only knew;

Carol Danvers most certainly just did weird shit for the hell of it.

i used to write this tall glass of starlight eons ago and im v happy to be back, but i've 0 sense of how this site works anymore, or what graphics are in, or if there's any like. trends or anything in regards to formatting, etc. im just here to write and make cool new pals ✨.

pls don't hesitate to hit me up in IMs, i only bite on occasion and there's a 64.34% chance i will not space out and reply to you in my head, only to realize that it was, in fact, in my head.

❝--this FEELS like you're saying I'm a 7'3 blonde cosmic wrecking ball. ...Well, one, I'm not 7'3. I'm 5'11 on a good day.❞ The painted flames scorching the back of her converse say it's a bad day. ❝Two, I'm trained in the careful art of regulating my cosmic dragonball strength by--❞ A shatter of glass spells doom for any elaborate narrative she might have constructed.

And the truffle exhibit they were attending.

❝Aw geez. ...You think my Avengers' Insurance will cover this?❞ Sweat beats against her forehead, amplified by the future call she was going to get from one Tony Stark about having to pay for, "another mishap in the fucking sitcom of your life!", as he would put it.

     ❝Repairs?! It hardly took a scratch! What the hell are you on about!?❞ Indignant was her tone, face depicting an incredulous fit as blue eyes seemed to blaze with impertinence, knowing full well that the battle back up in the stars was won--all by herself, no thanks to the ever brave Captain Zel’Ek, his ship, or the crew of their flying garbage truck they called a starship. The harsh fall from orbit was rocky, she’ll give them that, but to call for a week’s delay?

     Nevermind where they landed.

     ❝Zel, we’re on Runeterra. Currently a planet engulfed in enough war and skirmishes to last a lifetime. And now, outside of... Bilgewater.❞ Her tone dropped into an eased calmness, suddenly finding the answer to the “week’s repairs” smacking her in the face. She shot the captain an exasperated look, another offered to the crew down by the docking bay as they huddled into hover-boats. ❝Yeah. Okay. Now I know why our engines suddenly seized on us, right when we were flying above this region. Unbelievable.❞ 

     Despite her chagrin, Carol leaped up into her own state of flight, boots leaving the ship’s floor as she began rising in earnest. ❝Know what? I could use a week from you and the crew’s nonsense. Don’t blame me if they get themselves dead-ed though. Peace.❞ A two fingered salute was offered to the ship captain in question, followed by her spiraling into the air and off towards the infamous port-city known as Bilgewater.

     Think the Cantina from Mos Eisely, except far bigger and exceedingly more dangerous. 

     Her kind of place. 

     It didn’t take her but a good five minutes before reaching the center hub of the city, the stench of unwashed men and years of brine wafting into her nose as she touched down on the main overlying bridge. Her uniform’s colors stood out among all the soaked and moldy brown leather, but nobody seemed to notice too much. Even if they did, who was she to be bothered? 

     She was all smiles as she walked into one of the more lively looking establishments, some kind of awful marred mix between a pub and a dining hall. Her eyes scanned the room, inquisitive and sparkling with life--until they fell on a long tail of silken looking ruby-red hair. There at the head of one of the bar’s in this place, a figure sat in decent light that seemed to steal all the attention in the room, half of her face concealed in a down-tipped decedent pirate hat. Only, hardly anyone in the room was looking in her direction. Or even sitting close to where she remained, with drink in hand and occupying her space quietly.

     That meant only one thing. Carol just HAD to say hello!

                    “ 𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 , 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 . when your city gets leveled and humanity has been threatened over and over again , a little gag and a bit of slapstick comedy here and there wouldn’t hurt . ” bruce says , though he doesn’t look up . his eyes remained at the screen , laughing in unison with the laugh track as the mighty thor throws his hammer against the alien enemies in bad makeup , but hitting captain america instead . if anyone here knows the extent of people’s attempt at ridicule , it would be him . an angry green man who only wants to smash things ? he could think of a thousand jokes in his seat right then and there . “ you know when sometimes we have to cling on a bit of hope and luck to win the day ? imagine these people . there is so little that they can do in times of grave danger . let them have their fun . ”

     ❝I guess. I’m mostly bothered by just how... lame this show is.❞ Her face remained bemused at best, mildly annoyed at the worst when her eyes glossed over Bruce’s laptop screen. She surmised that her point was rather redundant, seeing as how the entire theme to this program was that it was meant to look bad. Duly named, “Too Many Avengers!”. The joke being both literal and anecdotal, neither of which were lost on her.