The Ultimate Spider-Man

The Avengers' common room is about as loud as it usually gets. Tony and Steve are bickering or joking—who knows with those two?—there's coffee being made a few feet away in the kitchen. It's a calm chatter, which is odd since Spider-Man is visiting. He's sat on the arm of the couch, staring between Tony and Steve like he's listening to their argument, but the lack of interruptions suggests he has barely heard a word of it. At first, he did seem to at least put in the effort to switch his focus to whoever was speaking, but right now, the spot between the two appears to be far more interesting to Spider-Man.

The usually restless hero hadn't even moved, not until Clint accidentally set down the coffee mugs he grabbed from the cabinet too hard, then, Spider-Man's head snapped towards the noise like it was about to attack him, lenses wide as he stares for a moment. However, a jaunty remark from Tony grabs his attention back to the argument/conversation, and he rests his chin in his hand, not matching that remark with any sort of joke of his own.

As Ceres explains, Spider-Man leans back, glancing back at Ock. "You can call him Capey," he mutters, gesturing to the cape.

"Do not. Spider-Man–" Strange begins to protest, giving Spider-Man a harsh look that is obviously ineffective since he immediately retorts.

"Why? Do you have a name for your swickityawetastic cape?"

That makes Strange pause, not to think about a name for his cape, no, but likely to question Spider-Man's sanity—even though this behaviour should not be a surprise. "Are you making up spells again?" he demands, almost hopeful that that is the answer.

"No. Does it look like it's Halloween to you?" And there were numerous other factors that allowed him to imagine a spell. "Come on, swickityawetastic? I said that so many episodes ago. You need to catch up, man," Spider-Man complains. "Capey gets it." To which the cape in question perks up at the collar proudly.

Ock glances at Spider-Man and mumbles, "You can call it Capey. I will not risk annoying a man with such power. I value my life."

Ceres gives Ock a thumbs down. "Lameee," they reply. "Strange is a good guy, which means he usually doesn't kill people for the crime of being annoying. Unlike some people I know. Besides, Capey likes the name." Ock grumbles but does not grace Ceres with a response.

Strange doesn't turn around to look at the group as he listens, staring up through the stained glass window hanging above the grand staircase taking up the back of the room. "Not alone. I am well-versed in time and its passages. However, to travel across dimensions, to one specific universe would be, as you say, 'like finding a needle in a haystack'," Strange explains, his words slightly stilted as he utters the metaphor. Spider-Man doesn't get why exactly; the man has been on Earth for most of his life. But then again he also wanted to study Halloween, so who knows what is up with that.

Ock makes a face at the question, as if she thinks Spidey is stupid for even asking. "We come from a spacefaring universe, spider. I have traveled the cosmos. Ceres lives in a spaceship." She looks mildly disgusted as she adds, "I have been on it. It is filthy."

Strange looks contemplative. "This 'roadtrip' is not to sightsee or play around. Snacks are unnecessary. We are merely there to create a means for you all to return home," he reminds.

Ceres nods, a little greatful Spider-Man bailed them out of getting a lecture. They'd had enough magic related lectures from Loki growing up. (Mostly some variation of "No, Ceres, I cannot fix that with magic. No, I am not saying that because I don't want to. If I attempted such a feat you would most likely die. No, I will not attempt it anyways.")

"Alright!" They say, clapping their hands together. "So, step one, tracking Loki. If it makes it any easier, she has at least a couple of wards on me. Mostly stuff to manage my chronic illness. Might help you get a frame of reference for what kind of magic youre looking for." They really didn't have any idea how magic worked, but they figure extra info is better than not enough. "Step two is contacting Madame Web and getting us a way home?"

"She's... uh, I don't exactly know. She's a pal of Nick's– er, Fury, for sure. Got some kind of see-the-future power, just without the crystal ball, and some sort of connection with the web of reality or something." Madame Web is a bit of a recluse—no pun intended—so that along with Fury's penchant for secrets makes the information Spider-Man has on her not-so substantial. "But I do know she and Strange can make a portal to other realities together. And that she's a friend."

Ceres stands on their tip toes, trying to see over the edge of the book and onto it's pages without getting close enough to go into a coughing fit from the dust. It's probably in some language they don't know, but they're naturally curious.

Strange looks up from the book, unamused with the chiding, but he flicks his wrist, a purple wisp of magic leaving his hand and carrying the dust along with it out of the room. "They are not dust bears," he mutters defensively, sticking his nose back in the book. Spider-Man crosses his arms, glancing over to Ceres with a theatrical disbelieving expression.

They look mildly confused as the wrong Loki shoes up -- hair too short, scar on the nose missing, too much armor -- but they light up again as their Loki forms from the liquid. "That's him!" They exclaim. "That's-- Where is that?" It's clearly not New York.

Ock, from a distance, also watches. Her head tilts as she takes in the moving liquid; there is not anything similar to such magic on her planet. A part of her wants to study it, to wield it. A part of her fears it. She remains where she is, several feet away.

"Muspelheim," Strange recognizes. "Certainly no vacation."

"And we can't just 'whappam'–" Spider-Man makes a gesture nothing akin to how magic is generally used. "–portal Loki here?" His tone is doubtful. It's never that easy.

"I would do just fine," Ock interrupts. "Though I would prefer not to. You two can suffer on your own." She will not willingly admit that she would absolutely die in such a place; her species comes from deep water, adapted for near freezing tempatures. No species from her planet has the thermoregulation earthlings seem to possess, as the little strip of Altera capable of hosting life rarely changed temperatures outside a certain range. Her suit could only do so much to maintain her body's ideal temperatures.

Ceres shrugs. Ock is clearly lying, but they can't say they'll miss her. "Fine by me." They glance at Spidey. "It's hot as hell in there. Literally, it's practically hell." They've only been once, for a brief moment, but it was rough. Hopefully the mission won't take too long. They can't imagine how a frost giant like Loki is doing there.

Ceres removes the upper part of their costume, leaving them in something akin to a jumpsuit. They then tie the upper part around their waist. Less layers are always good when its that hot.

And from the sounds of it, he'd rather not go to a fiery realm with a variant of Ock who is only peaceful thanks to a flimsy and strained agreement. He can learn more about the fish lady possibly staying in his universe when he's not going to get roasted alive.

"Perhaps once you're back," Strange offers. "I'd presume you'd like your hands free in the face of the creatures from Muspelheim."

"Ready as I'll ever be. Not like I can shed any layers," Spider-Man agrees, only sounding mildly jealous of Ceres' suit. Yes, he designed his own suit, so it's only himself he has to blame, but that was before he had to deal with the heats not native to New York. By now, he has a brand that almost all of his team has copied.

Strange nods before twisting his hands around in the air, focused and controlled. The Eye of Agamotto opens, emitting a purple glow, and a beat later a portal opens to Muspelheim. Strange drops his hands, a few beads of sweat collecting at his temple, seemingly not from the heat slowly creeping into the room from the portal.

"We'll just give you a shout when we need to leave?" Spider-Man checks, already walking towards the portal like he knows the schedule by now.

"Yes, I suppose that will suffice," Strange confirms, rubbing his forehead.

"Alright. See you soon, Doc...sss, both of you." Spider-Man gives a two-finger salute before stepping through the portal. "Man, I know too many doctors."

The world around them is made of pale orange rock with many jagged edges. Volcanos and rivers of lava can be seen in the distance, and there is, of course, various patches of fire around. Ceres's nose scrunches at the smell of smoke.

"I've only been to the Muspelheim in my dimension once," Ceres says, "and it was only for a little bit, so I'm not fully sure what we're getting into here. I know there's fire demons here, and Sutur might be around somewhere. Just be on the lookout." They never actually had to fight him, but they heard stories. They hope the two avoid the giant entirely.

Ceres keeps an eye out for any green among the reds and oranges of the realm. Loki can't be far; they consider asking to split up, but decide if they do get attacked it'll be better to stick together. They go silent as they scan the horizon for their lost friend.

"Not like that! I prefer my dudes looking smoking hot, dare I say smouldering, but burning? No way," he corrects, mostly talking at the fire monster whirling around to smash his sword in his general direction rather than actually discussing his preferences in people with it. He ducks to the side, circling back around to Ceres. "Sorry, I think my brain is melting. This line of jokes is like the opposite of cool," he says as an aside to them, only partially aware of the hot pun that the 'opposite of cool' is, before calling out at the creature. "Almost as uncool as your sword technique! I haven't ever used one and I know it doesn't work like a club!"

They step back to give him space to swing the rock at the fire creature, letting out a shout of celebration as the rock collides. Their excitement is quickly wiped away as the creature still stands. "I think fire also beats rock," they quip. "But, hear me out--" they follow Spidey's attempt and use their webs to send another rock flying. "--two rocks."

The creature does not fall for this a second time, and dodges easily. Ceres blinks. "Welp, I'm out of ideas."

The creature charges them, and Ceres yelps as they dodge to the side; they attack from the back, landing a hard punch that sends the creature to the ground. They hiss as they wave their hand frantically. "Ow ow ow, that burns, ow."

While they're distracted, the creature grabs them by the ankle, sending them to the ground as well. They cry out and use their other foot to try and kick the creature away, to no avail.

Before anything else can be done, a green blast of energy slams into the creature. There is a hissing, and then silence.

As Ceres is dragged by the ankle, Spider-Man's mask lenses widen. He steps forward, but stops in his tracks as the fiery creature is struck with some sort of bright green light.

He flinches harder than he'd like to admit. But in his defense, usually sudden bright flashes are being shot at him, not his adversaries. He cracks open his eyes, peeking at the worse for wear Loki, and drops his arms from where they were shielding his face.

The teen takes his hand, allowing themself to be pulled up. They cringe slightly as the burn on their leg protests the sudden weight put on it, but they take great care not to react otherwise.

Ceres looks to Loki. "You alive?" They mean it as a joke, but Loki really doesn't look all that great. They're pretty sure he's on the verge of a heatstroke, between the unfocused look in his eyes and lack of comments thud far. Normally he would have made at least one remark about their terrible midbattle jokes after the fact. His skin isn't blue yet, though, a good sign.

Stop! Focus! Feel guilty later. Spider-Man has to shake off that withering feeling. "That's fine. I'm not planning to make a vacation home here or anything," he says, also looking to where the fire creature had disappeared.

Ock glances the group over. "You lived. How sad." Her gaze lingers on Ceres. "Though not without injury. Not all bad, then."

Ceres waltzes over and flicks Ock on the equivalent of her nose. "You're literally the worst. Hush." They turn to face the others, ignoring the murderous glare they're receiving. "So, I don't think Strange is looking up to travel right now. Are you good? You don't look good." They frown at the doctor before continuing, "...but when he is we got a road trip to K'un-Lun, and then we're home bound! Yay!" They pause, seemingly remembering something. "Weren't the Avengers looking for Loki? Should someone tell them we have him, and he's not committing war crimes like they thought he would? I'd hate to waste their time."

Side eyeing Loki for the attitude, Strange sits up more, an attempt to look more composed that is convincing to those who don't know him well. "I am fine. Creating portals between realms like Muspelheim is not a task I regularly perform, and for good reason: it is rather strenuous." He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief to rid it of the worst of the sweat that built up.

When Ceres poses the question of telling the Avengers, Spider-Man tilts his head. He can't believe he's agreeing with Loki here, but the Avengers were told that this Loki wasn't a threat and ignored that, so... "They've wasted their time in worse ways. It's not like they listened the first time anyway," he adds. It isn't the team player move that would increase his rapport with Earth's mightiest heroes, but he was taught by Nicholas 'tell them only what is necessary' Fury first.

"So, how about that water, huh?" Spider-Man questions rather than linger. He marches off towards where he knows the kitchen to be, pausing just before the hall. He should probably delegate the role of making sure no one dies before he leaves, even if it's only for a few seconds. Murderous, about to be murdered, exhausted, exhausted but recovering faster. "You–" He points to Loki. "–Make sure no one dies. Please? And Capey, come help me with the water." Capey floats off of Strange's shoulders, slipping towards Spider-Man, but momentarily darting back to pat Strange on the head in some sort of apology.

Ceres can't argue with that. Not their fault the Avengers don't know how to listen.

Loki jumps a little at the sudden attention on him. He only sighs and solemnly nods when he realizes the task he's been assigned. "I will do my best." He looks around at the group; Crazed scientist, annoying sorcerer, teen with a knack for getting themself in trouble, and him. Not the worst he's worked with, somehow. He can keep them alive for a few moments while Spider-Man leaves.

Ock is not happy. She was forced into enemy territory. She knew Ceres was going to go on some heroic spiel about how she needed to return home with them and blah blah blah. She was not going to return. She was also not happy with being marched into an enemy's home, surrounded by unfamiliar sciences. She hates not knowing. She also hates this stupid truce, because the idea of pretending to be Ceres's equal is humiliating.

And now Ceres has humiliated her again by telling her to "hush." She knows attacking is a bad idea. She is outnumbered (another thing she hates.) Strange has magic and so does Loki and both spiders have considerable strength that she can take on individually but not together.

But Strange is exhausted and Loki is too and Ceres is injured. Spider-Man is gone and so is the cape and even if she cannot win she can at least prove she is better. That's what she tells herself, anyways. She really just wants a fight.

Ceres's shouts can be heard before Spider-Man even enters the room. When he does enter, Ock has Ceres pinned against the floor with a tentacle, Loki is shouting something while summoning what little magic he can muster, Ceres is shouting about their truce and telling Ock to let go, and Strange is watching in bewilderment.

It's not until Ock sees Spider-Man that she lets go. The odds are against her again; she cannot win if he is here. Loki and Strange can't fight well and Ceres won't kill her but she still isn't sure about the other Spider. "Should've stabbed you quicker," she hisses under her breath, glaring daggers at Ceres. She could have done it and ran and been done with this.

"Was my Ock this murder-y? With the whole dissecting thing, maybe" he mutters into his hand, looking up at the high ceiling. His Ock has backstabbed many times during their so-called truces, but he can't recall one while in such a disadvantageous position. He doesn't pay any mind to the expression Strange has; he must have overheard, but it's not like Spider-Man could be bothered to figure out if it's confusion or concern on his face.

He nods as Ceres asks for a water, taking one from Capey and handing it to them. "I've also got bandages," he says, not intending to leave much of a choice in whether or not they are taken. Burns aren't his strong suit when it comes to treating them—most of his solutions are to merely slap a bandage on it anyway—but hopefully Ceres or Loki know how. Strange probably would know, but his hands don't seem to be very steady at the moment. Capey lays out the rest of the water bottles and the roll of bandages out on an end table before returning to Strange, dropping one of the bottles into his lap.

"As for you." Spider-Man looks towards Ock, not bothering to put on a show of disappointment. He knows his opinion doesn't matter to her. Though he does appreciate that she at least stopped trying to kill Ceres once he walked in, even if it wasn't because of anything besides realizing the odds are against her. "We had a deal. You don't do that–" He waves his hand around to gesture to the scene that just occurred. "–And you'd get to stay in my universe while we figure out the whole Norma thing. I'm already going to have to fight thirty different people to keep you out of a cell during your stay, never mind how many I'll have to fight to keep you in this universe, so don't make it harder for me by trying to kill people, no matter how much they snub or mock you." He would stand up for Ock against all those people, but when it comes to her realizing that, he might just be talking to a wall, so he adds on one more thing. "You're smart. That much is obvious. Don't throw it all away with a stupid decision." He's still unfamiliar with how exactly this Ock works, but intellect matters a lot to his Ock, so he may as well try to feed into her ego that way.

"And we'll try to avoid antagonizing each other too much." He looks over his shoulder at Ceres. He's guilty of doing the same with his Ock, so he can't blame them, not when their Ock was also chiming in with similar comments and starting things, but rising to the challenge given by someone operating on a hairpin trigger doesn't help. As fun as it can be when there's no injury impeding one's ability to move.

If it comes down to it, she's not sure whether she'd pick her own freedom or Ceres's death. Freedom runs the risk of recapture. Ceres's death runs the risk of her own. For now, though, the possibility of both was still on the table. She just needed to play her cards right.

Ceres looks away as they're chastised. That was fair; they really weren't helping the already tense relations here. They're not going to promise it won't happen again, but they'll at least think about it before they do anything stupid, a step above their usual "act fast, think of consequences later" attitude. They sit up, cracking open the bottle they were handed and taking a long sip.

Loki takes the bandages and tosses them to Ceres before he takes a seat on the floor as well, slowly sipping at his own water. He hates to admit it, but the heat did get to him. He's far from full strength. At least he didn't have to push his already sparse seiðr reserves to keep Ock from murdering Ceres. He'd done a relatively alright job keeping the teen from dying so far; it'd be a shame to have all that hard work thrown away because he didn't have enough magic in him to stop their murder.

Ceres removes their boot and looks over the damage to their leg. It wasn't as bad as they first thought -- their boots took the brunt of the damage, partially burnt away from the heat. The ankle itself is red and blistered, on the worse side of a second degree burn, but their healing factor is already taking care of it. They wrap it loosely.

Opening his water bottle, he rolls his mask above his nose before taking a sip. He takes a peek as Ceres wraps their ankle, not completely satisfied with the dressing, but he understands why it was done so. He drums his fingers against his water bottle, looking away. As Ceres complains about their boot, he nods. Costume damage always sucks, but better the suit than them.

I could ask Danny for a ride to K'un-Lun. He rules the place, after all, has a jet, and it would be cheaper and quicker than a commercial flight. It would just be a matter of avoiding the Avengers' efforts to catch Loki under their assumptions that he's the same as their Loki. Smuggling a god out of New York in a private jet. No biggie. Maybe a S.H.I.E.L.D. jet would be better. Fury is used to me "borrowing" anyway. Facing Fury's wrath is more appealing than possibly dealing with angry and unreasonable Avengers, and risking Danny's identity. Of course Rand would have to go on the side of the jet, or at least it was from what Spider-Man remembers.

Airlines are immediately out of the option anyway. Loki is well-known enough that getting on a flight would be impossible, and that's without considering what reaction Ock would garner with her charming fishiness. So, S.H.I.E.L.D. jet it is.

Ceres takes another sip of their water, glancing between the two. They're pretty sure they already know the answer; S.H.I.E.L.D. would never willingly transport Loki to anywhere but a jail cell. That's not even mentioning the bad taste Ock would probably put in their mouths. "Don't they fly around in a giant airship thingy? Gonna be hard to sneak in."

Loki hums. "I think I could conjure up a few cloaking spells. It's a little harder to work them around technology than magic, but given enough time..." He taps his chin as he thinks. He could manage to mask the four for a brief period once he recovered a bit more strength. Once they're on, it's a matter of avoiding the agents on board.

Ceres grins. "Sounds like a plan." Half a plan, really, but better than what they usually work with. "Dibs on flying the jet out!" Flying a jet is probably just like flying a spaceship, right? They have plenty of experience in that, and they kind of miss flying around fast. "Think I could do a barrel roll?"

He holds a hand over his mouth as he thinks. "There's S.H.I.E.L.D. tunnels at my old high school from when me and my team used to go there. They would hook up to the Helicarrier when it was under water, would probably do the same with the Tricarrier. We're only five, right?" He looks over everyone here, counting heads. Himself, Ceres, Loki, Ock, Strange (and Capey). That's five, thankfully. One more and seating would get awkward.

"So, check with Coulson if the tunnels still work, get to Midtown, get onto the Tricarrier, grab a jet, and fly out before the Tricarrier has fully breached that water and it's safe for other jets to pursue," Spider-Man says simply, though it won't be that simple because when is it ever? "Uh, actually, how likely is everyone to kill me if I suggest we take the sewers to get to Midtown to avoid all of New York from seeing us march into a school?" He knows going through the sewers is far from a fan favorite—not like he enjoys the smell either—but after dealing with the Lizard, he's found them to be a decent way to avoid prying eyes, and it keeps potential dangers out of the streets (Ock, cough cough).

Strange's eyes narrow. Hoofing it in the sewers is the opposite of appealing to the normal person. Strange, who has managed to avoid the messier aspects of working with Spider-Man thus far, is likely much less pleased. "Spider-Man, that is–"

Ceres makes a face. They've been to planets that smell like nothing but sulfer and rotten eggs, and it sucks, but they can do it if they have to. "If it keeps us from getting swarmed by the guys with the guns, I'm down." They don't really wanna get in a fight with The Avengers, or SHIELD, or whoever else. For one, they would have to restrain themself more than normal, because they don't want to seriously hurt the good guys. For two, they don't trust Ock not to kill anyone. For three, they don't exactly trust Loki not to pull a violent stunt either. Not that he'd kill anyone (not while they're watching, at least, but that's a different conversation,) but he'd feel a lot less worse about injuring people who were just doing their job. Especially if the Thor of this dimension was involved in the fight. They can tell that if there weren't consequences for punching his Thor in the face, he would've already. Punching a Thor that he'll never have to see again? Loki wouldn't think twice. They can handle a smelly trip to avoid bloodshed.

Loki nods. "If we must." He mentally goes through a catalog of spells he knows -- can he restrict his sense of smell? He can definitely make a small shield of sort around his boots to avoid stepping in anything... unsavory. Strange doesn't seem all that thrilled to go into the sewer, which is all the more reason to go.

He prepares to call Coulson on his wrist communicator, but pauses. The thing is basically permanently on speaker, and he still isn't sure how exactly the camera works for his communicator, so catching either Loki or Ock in frame would be less than ideal. He would step out if it weren't for the previous experience of Ock trying to kill Ceres the second he did. She likely wouldn't try again, but call him cautious.

So, instead he jumps up to the ceiling. He hates the ceiling in the Sanctum Sanctorum because Strange's idea of decor is tiled ceilings, intricately engraved with eyes that protrude and actually open. He avoids stepping on the eyes, obviously, as he stands upside down on the ceiling.

There. He's still in the room but there's no way anyone else will be in frame. Everyone will likely still hear the conversation, but that isn't something he's too worried about. It just means he won't have to repeat himself. He calls Coulson.

"Spider-Man," greets just about the most boring voice one can imagine. Most would not imagine the owner of the voice to be one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest ranking agents, or maybe you would if S.H.I.E.L.D. comes off that boring.

"Coulson, do the tunnels at Midtown to the Tricarrier still work?" Spider-Man can tell immediately that his question has him surprised, but it's not like anyone knows of his little mission to harbor Loki and Ock away from the Avengers.

"They should. Why? Can you not get onto the Tricarrier your usual way?" Being firing a web while it's up in the sky and hauling himself up. "Can the alternate spider you're with not reach it with their webs?" Coulson continues, clearly aware of the story he gave the Avengers; he's showing Ceres around New York while the 'adults' look for Loki and Ock.

"What? Who told you?" It does save him from having to repeat his lie, but getting snitched on to Coulson of all people, that bugs him. No pun intended.

"Black Widow. It's important to know the whereabouts of beings from other universes... or if someone responsible is watching them."

Unlikely. He is stronger. He will kill you. Foolish thought.

Ceres shoots Spidey a thumbs up and a grin. They can't say they haven't pulled similar schemes to get out of calls or keep cover; it's crazy how much pretending to make people inflate your ego make them not want to talk to you.

"Can't believe Widow's a nark. Well-- I can, actually. But still." They awkwardly cough and clear their throat. "Alright, gang, let's get this show on the road!" They stand, testing the weight on their ankle. It barely hurts, so they'll probably be fine. They look to the two resident magic users.

"You two good?" They were the only others affected by the fight in Muspelheim, after all. Not everyone had a healing factor.

Loki nods and downs the rest of his water before standing. "I am ready. Let's get this over with, shall we?" He brushes past the others, knowing that he can make it outside the labyrinth of a house without help from Strange. He's starting to feel a little stuffy with all the people in the room. "Meet you all outside, assuming the good doctor needs another moment. I know magic takes more out of ameatur sorcerers." As he walks, his jacket shortens. He can do the walk, but he'd rather not have to clean stains out of his clothes. Gross.

Ceres watches him walk out with a mildly annoyed look. They were doing a okay-ish job olaying nice with Ock; why couldn't he at least try?

"I will be fine." Strange says, giving Ceres a grateful nod as he pushes himself up. He looks to Spider-Man with the patience of a saint—honestly, the man has put up with his nonsense more than most other adult heroes, so the fact he hasn't been smote by the icy tendrils of ikthalon is quite the feat—and a raised eyebrow. "Why would the Eye of Agamotto grant you 'grape-scented' webs?"

"Because they were purple, so I'm pretty sure they smelled like grapes," Spider-Man reasons as he begins to trail after Loki, slow enough that he can make sure Strange is genuinely fine and not acting tough. Whether the wizard will be going around with a spring in his step is to be debated, but he's walking well enough.

"I believe that is what you call a placebo effect."

Ock stares, deadpan. "I do not know what a grape is, Spider. My planet does not have the same food as yours."

Ceres blinks. "We gotta get you some grapes," they decide, exiting the Sanctum Sanctorum. Ock mumbles something under her breath, no doubt an insult.

Loki is already outside when they get there. He's leaned against a wall, watching the crowd move outside. He gives the group a short glance as they exit; he doesn't say much, but he doesn't look particularly excited.

If Ock is going to stay in his universe, she's definitely getting asked about that. Science, biology, stuff to bond over. They'll absolutely be besties in no time.

He looks over to Ceres as they talk about high school, or lack thereof. "That really depends on the movie—it definitely wasn't like Mean Girls—and who you ask. I mean, if you ask me, I'm pretty sure I got bullied by a guy who took notes from movies from the 80s," he stage whispers, even though Flash is not around to hear it. "I don't think I got the normal high school experience anyway between who I was friends with and the whole superhero thing." He pulls at the chest of his suit. "Most of the time it was chill, though, if you knew what you were learning."

He pauses at the edge of the property of the Sanctum Sanctorum, checking for witnesses outside of the illusion barrier before moving towards the nearest manhole cover and lifting it with his webs. "Just don't get in the water. It's not the stinkiest place in New York, but, y'know, stay on the side walkways." He wishes it were merely a sewer for storm runoff, but older parts of the city, so older sewage systems. At least he knows how to get just about anywhere through the sewers thanks to all of his time spent trying to track down the Lizard.

So long as no one murders each other, he can handle some sour moods. If it weren't for how often he's fallen into gross things, he would be bothered too. For the sake of everyone's safety, he'll try to lead them to Midtown High quickly. They could probably make it in 15 minutes if everyone kept up the pace.

Ceres is the first to go down after Strange, placing their hands and feet on either side of the ladder and sliding down. Their face wrinkles when they reach the bottom. Not the smelliest they've dealt with (they've been on a handful of sulfer-filled planets,) but still far from pleasant. They move to stand next to Strange as the next person descends.

Neither Loki nor Ock moves first. They both look at each other, Loki with annoyance and Ock with disdain. "I will be last, thank you. I do not trust any of you not to stab me the moment my back is turned," Ock hisses.

Loki opens his mouth to retort, but seems to think better of himself. The faster he gets this done, the faster he gets to go home and get off Midgard. He sighs heavily. "As long as you agree not to make any attempts on my life, doctor." He leaps down, stopping just an inch above the floor. He hates this, very much so, but he does take mild pleasure in watching Strange's face morph into one of disgust.

"What? Me too?" That is what last means, he knows, but being just a little difficult is in his nature. "What would I even stab you with?" He displays his empty hands. "This suit doesn't come with pockets."

With a sigh, he complies, beginning down the ladder. "Fine! But if you don't come down after me, you bet your helmet you'll be coming down here in a web cocoon. His hand raises out of the manhole to point threateningly at Ock, likely losing some of its power as his stern expression is lost due to the fact he's going down a ladder.

Once he reaches the bottom, Spider-Man turns and does a quick headcount, not that he has to worry since they're already in here with him. "You're good to come down, Ock!" His voice echoes off of the round walls, mixing with the quiet lap of water. He listens as best he can for footsteps running away from the manhole.

Ceres pulls their mask a little lower over their face, though it's unfortunately too short to pull over their nose. Stupid younger them wanting to show off their stupid fangs.

They glances at the light from Spidey's chest; they don't wanna be mean, but it's kinda dim. Probably not enough to lead 5 people (6, counting the cape) through the sewers without at least one tripping.

(That is a funny thought, though. They kinda hope it's Ock.)

He shakes his head. No time for that now. They're at the third base, or third plate, or whatever, near the finish line. Noticing the glow of the magic, he gives Loki a nod of thanks. "Let's get out of here."

He doesn't turn off his own poor 'flashlight', any light is good light, and he doesn't want to search for the button again. Taking the lead, Spider-Man sets off down the sewer tunnel, peering down each fork in the sewer and counting over the sets of footsteps behind him. With the echoes and the fact that a third, counting Capey, are floating, footsteps isn't the best method to make sure everyone is here, but he's mostly worried about Ock and Strange because one may run away and the other's footsteps are dragging.

Strange's face is stony, the usual for the sorcerer, his eyes set forward as if he can see despite the darkness looming outside of Loki's magic and strands of his own hair hanging in his face. He's keeping up fine enough, even if his boots are not clicking against the stone path, instead scraping quietly, definitely mucking up the bright yellow color. Strange has had better days, but he has definitely looked worse than the tired expression he has now.

They don't really know Strange well enough to know his baseline, but they're pretty sure it's usually better than this. They feel a little bad for making him hold the portal open so long; it clearly took more out of him than they thought it would.

Maybe they were just used to Loki's level of stamina. He was an Asgardian (kind of? Jotuun by birth, but he stayed shifted into an Asgardian form) and thus already had a bit of an advantage endurance-wise, and had Strange beat in the magic game by a few centuries. Maybe most people would get super tired after magic usage.

When they're not making sure Strange isnt going to pass out they watch Ock. She clearly does not like having Ceres follow behind her, and keeps shooting the spider glares sharp enough to cut. She does this again and Ceres sticks out their tongue, earning a low grumble from the scientist.

"Should?" Strange echoes, clearly eager to get out of the sewer tunnel.

"Yes, should, because the conclusive data–" He gestures to the manhole cover and presumably outside of it. "–hasn't been observed yet. It's a hypothesis."

"You said you knew where to go." At this point, Strange is just making it difficult for the sake of it, at least, that's what Spider-Man is assuming because it's a nicer thing to believe than the idea that Strange still thinks he's incompetent after all of their missions together. He's just being grouchy.

"Duh, but you don't say something is absolute until you can prove it. That's basic science. I thought you were a doctor." He sighs dramatically, "And here I was trying to bond." He climbs up the ladder the rest of the way, pushing open the manhole cover—only gritting his teeth a little at the scrape of metal on asphalt—and poking his head out. "Here we are. See? Told you!" He crawls fully out, checking his surroundings before sticking his head back in. "You're good to come up. One at a time, please." That probably didn't need stating, but he's had moments where his teammates all tried to go through a door at once.

Ock doesn't hesitate to take up Spider-Man's offer; she's out within seconds, cursing about the cramped space they entire way up. Ceres tilts their head as she leaves and follows quickly after; they still dont trust her not to bolt.

In the sewer, Strange gives Loki a dark glower, clicking his tongue, "Tch, then I suppose it is a good thing I do not concern myself with such things as vanity." He completely ignores the implications of looking terrible, focusing on the appearance aspect instead before he pushes himself up the ladder, mostly using Capey to float up rather than touch the rungs with his hands.

Once everyone is back in the light of day, Spider-Man toes the manhole cover back into place. He gestures for everyone to follow and leads them to the high school's iron gates. "Just to be very clear, I don't go here anymore, so if you're going to try and kill me, don't waste your time here," he announces, kind of useless considering roughly half of the group is going back to their own universe, and hopefully the rest don't try and kill him. But it's better to be safe than sorry. No way is anyone going to get hurt because of him. The front yard of the school is decorated with sparse trees and a bench that seems to be more graffiti than wood at this point.

Through the glass doors are beige walls and multi-colored tile floors in a pattern that is slightly off-center. There's a trophy case and a few student artworks high on the walls, and the echo of the whistled tune from the janitor.

"Killing you here would be a disservice to those actually trying to learn," Ock responds dryly. "I would wait until school was out."

The group trails behind Spider-Man, following as he leads them in. Ceres runs a hand along the wall as they walk, taking in the vibes of the place. It really isnt all that much different from the movies, appearance wise. If anything, it looks less exciting. They can't imagine they missed much by skipping out on the school thing entirely.

They perk a little at the sound of whistling. Their group is a little big, and they aren't sure how stealthy Ock can be (not that Ceres themself is awfully sneaky.) They think about bringing it up, but Spidey has the same super senses they do, and he's not commenting on it. It's... probably fine.

"Rodger," they hum as Spidey explains the plan. "Ock can run fast. Right, Ock?"

Spider-Man nods as Ceres confirms what he hopes is actually true. So long as everyone can keep up they will be fine. He turns into one of the classrooms, letting everyone in before shutting the door. "Take a seat in any chair, no feet on the tables."

Ock, of course, starts cursing out everyone involved, both in English and in her native tongue. "WE AGREED ON A TRUCE, YOU BACKSTABBING LYING--" Ceres still has that translator in their neck and decides it might be best the others (excluding loki) can't understand the names she's calling them all. They're not very flattering.

Loki, much like Strange, swears as he hits a bend and screams something about a warning being appreciated.

When they are finally dropped at their destination, Ceres is the only of the three to land on their feet. They watch as Loki stands, brushing his pants legs off and mumbling something about undignified travel methods.

Upon seeing Ceres stick the landing, Spider-Man cheers, "Hey! Look at that! I wasn't able to do tha– uh-oh." He leaps to the ceiling after spotting the murderous intent in Ock's eyes. "Can I just mention that killing me now would be a really bad idea?" he utters quickly. "I mean, between 50 feet of water and– nevermind."

Being antagonistic won't help. Unfortunately for his sharp tongue, he has to be the mature one. "We can deal with the issues you have with me after we all get out of the enclosed space with armed agents at every corner."

He cautiously lowers himself from the ceiling. "And that's not an invitation to attack me on the jet either," he adds, forcing his posture to relax. He has no reason to try and make himself look bigger. "Let's get going. I don't want to know how many people heard all of that." He peeks out of the doorway. Not to mention whoever monitors the entrances from the school counted three extra arrivals than the two Coulson probably allowed. Things are going to get busy fast.

Loki raises his hands, a green glow emanating from them for a moment. After a brief moment, the light snakes around the rest the group, and everyone becomes a translucent sort of mint shade.

"We can see each other," Loki hums, "but no one else should be able to see us. They can still hear, though. I cannot guarantee it blocks us from camera view; the spell only suggests passerby dont see us, but becomes less effective through the lens of technology. Keep your guard up and be quiet." He gives a nod to Spider-Man. "Lead the way, Spider."

(If he sends a smug look to Strange, Ceres doesnt notice.)

He turns and waves for everyone to follow him. Quiet was not something he practiced often, but he knows how to keep his mouth shut and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s floors muffle footsteps pretty well. Imagine the clang of the heavy boots on metal floors without some sort of sound dampening; that's why they muffle sound. He still takes care to fire a web at the cameras in their path and randomly opening the metal doors around them in a continued effort to make their trail difficult to follow.

The walk to the hangar was peaceful enough. Spider-Man only stopped them once with a raise of his hand as a pair of S.H.I.E.L.D. guards walked by, chatting to each other about someone stealing lunches in the break room. The doors to the hangar wooshed open and they all stepped inside.

Spider-Man heard the gun readying before the guard could demand, "Who's there?"

"A ghost. Now don't cause any trouble," Spider-Man instructs, webbing one of the guards hands to the wall. The gun still raises, unsteady since it is unsupported. He sighs dramatically, webbing the muzzle and pulling it from the guard's hand. They struggle to pull their hand free before coming to a stop, staring at a big red button that likely spells trouble for the group. "No. Don't even–" The heel of their boot slams onto the button. "Ooh, you're a pain." At least all of them are already here.

He walks up to the desk, not bothering with the button; the alarm has been set off. Instead, he grabs the pack of sticky notes and writes out "Sorry!" with a quick spider drawing, in case the webs weren't obvious enough, and a second note saying "Good guard!" with an arrow pointing down. He sticks both to the guard's helmet. "Just one sec, guys," he calls, opening up the desktop and typing something rapidly, giving himself access to the bay door controls.

"How long do we have before we're overrun with agents?" They call out, halfway into the jet already. They're pretty sure breaching the surface without prior authorization is sure to raise a few eyebrows

Their answer is answered quickly as SHIELD personnel flood into the room. Ceres shoots a few webs out, webbing a few soldiers to the wall or knocking guns out of their hands before climbing into the jet fully, needing a second to figure out the controls. The jet is set up differently from their ship, but they imagine the skill needed to fly both is the same. They flick a few switches and press a few buttons and the engine rumbles to life. They peek their head out the hatch again. "Ready when y'all are!"

Loki tenses, working overtime to keep the spell up long enough for the others to load themselves onto the jet. As he said, the spell itself mostly suggests the viewer does not perceive them. There are currently a lot of eyes on them. He retreats to the edge of the jet entrance, waiting for the rest to enter.

Strange notices Loki's occupied state and decides he has rested for long enough. "Shield of the Seraphim!" Bubbles of magic form around groups of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, keeping them in place and shielding them from Ock's tentacles. It was enough to thin out the crowd enough that Ock could easily prevent the rest from reaching Spider-Man; whether or not that was even close to her actual goals, he doesn't know.

Distracted by the laughter, Spider-Man glances up from the screen, watching Ock nervously for a moment. Seeing she isn't killing anyone, he returns to typing frantically. He has what he needs, but given the agents pouring into the room, he'll take a second to make their lives easier. "Yes, override. No, no don't fight me on this. Yes, ignore that. C'mon," he mutters. Even though he is close with Nick, and Coulson mostly by proxy, the override code is a heavily guarded secret he isn't privy to. So, he is doing his best to close the door and get around all of the protocols the alarm triggered.

Oh believe me, I am staying far away if you get another one of those shrinking machines. If anything, “accidentally” shrink Fury, I wanna get his reaction on video.

Oh believe me, I am staying far away if you get another one of those shrinking machines. If anything, “accidentally” shrink Fury, I wanna get his reaction on video.

The Avengers' common room is about as loud as it usually gets. Tony and Steve are bickering or joking—who knows with those two?—there's coffee being made a few feet away in the kitchen. It's a calm chatter, which is odd since Spider-Man is visiting. He's sat on the arm of the couch, staring between Tony and Steve like he's listening to their argument, but the lack of interruptions suggests he has barely heard a word of it. At first, he did seem to at least put in the effort to switch his focus to whoever was speaking, but right now, the spot between the two appears to be far more interesting to Spider-Man.

The usually restless hero hadn't even moved, not until Clint accidentally set down the coffee mugs he grabbed from the cabinet too hard, then, Spider-Man's head snapped towards the noise like it was about to attack him, lenses wide as he stares for a moment. However, a jaunty remark from Tony grabs his attention back to the argument/conversation, and he rests his chin in his hand, not matching that remark with any sort of joke of his own.

As Ceres explains, Spider-Man leans back, glancing back at Ock. "You can call him Capey," he mutters, gesturing to the cape.

"Do not. Spider-Man–" Strange begins to protest, giving Spider-Man a harsh look that is obviously ineffective since he immediately retorts.

"Why? Do you have a name for your swickityawetastic cape?"

That makes Strange pause, not to think about a name for his cape, no, but likely to question Spider-Man's sanity—even though this behaviour should not be a surprise. "Are you making up spells again?" he demands, almost hopeful that that is the answer.

"No. Does it look like it's Halloween to you?" And there were numerous other factors that allowed him to imagine a spell. "Come on, swickityawetastic? I said that so many episodes ago. You need to catch up, man," Spider-Man complains. "Capey gets it." To which the cape in question perks up at the collar proudly.

Ock glances at Spider-Man and mumbles, "You can call it Capey. I will not risk annoying a man with such power. I value my life."

Ceres gives Ock a thumbs down. "Lameee," they reply. "Strange is a good guy, which means he usually doesn't kill people for the crime of being annoying. Unlike some people I know. Besides, Capey likes the name." Ock grumbles but does not grace Ceres with a response.

Strange doesn't turn around to look at the group as he listens, staring up through the stained glass window hanging above the grand staircase taking up the back of the room. "Not alone. I am well-versed in time and its passages. However, to travel across dimensions, to one specific universe would be, as you say, 'like finding a needle in a haystack'," Strange explains, his words slightly stilted as he utters the metaphor. Spider-Man doesn't get why exactly; the man has been on Earth for most of his life. But then again he also wanted to study Halloween, so who knows what is up with that.

Ock makes a face at the question, as if she thinks Spidey is stupid for even asking. "We come from a spacefaring universe, spider. I have traveled the cosmos. Ceres lives in a spaceship." She looks mildly disgusted as she adds, "I have been on it. It is filthy."

Strange looks contemplative. "This 'roadtrip' is not to sightsee or play around. Snacks are unnecessary. We are merely there to create a means for you all to return home," he reminds.

Ceres nods, a little greatful Spider-Man bailed them out of getting a lecture. They'd had enough magic related lectures from Loki growing up. (Mostly some variation of "No, Ceres, I cannot fix that with magic. No, I am not saying that because I don't want to. If I attempted such a feat you would most likely die. No, I will not attempt it anyways.")

"Alright!" They say, clapping their hands together. "So, step one, tracking Loki. If it makes it any easier, she has at least a couple of wards on me. Mostly stuff to manage my chronic illness. Might help you get a frame of reference for what kind of magic youre looking for." They really didn't have any idea how magic worked, but they figure extra info is better than not enough. "Step two is contacting Madame Web and getting us a way home?"

"She's... uh, I don't exactly know. She's a pal of Nick's– er, Fury, for sure. Got some kind of see-the-future power, just without the crystal ball, and some sort of connection with the web of reality or something." Madame Web is a bit of a recluse—no pun intended—so that along with Fury's penchant for secrets makes the information Spider-Man has on her not-so substantial. "But I do know she and Strange can make a portal to other realities together. And that she's a friend."

Ceres stands on their tip toes, trying to see over the edge of the book and onto it's pages without getting close enough to go into a coughing fit from the dust. It's probably in some language they don't know, but they're naturally curious.

Strange looks up from the book, unamused with the chiding, but he flicks his wrist, a purple wisp of magic leaving his hand and carrying the dust along with it out of the room. "They are not dust bears," he mutters defensively, sticking his nose back in the book. Spider-Man crosses his arms, glancing over to Ceres with a theatrical disbelieving expression.

They look mildly confused as the wrong Loki shoes up -- hair too short, scar on the nose missing, too much armor -- but they light up again as their Loki forms from the liquid. "That's him!" They exclaim. "That's-- Where is that?" It's clearly not New York.

Ock, from a distance, also watches. Her head tilts as she takes in the moving liquid; there is not anything similar to such magic on her planet. A part of her wants to study it, to wield it. A part of her fears it. She remains where she is, several feet away.

"Muspelheim," Strange recognizes. "Certainly no vacation."

"And we can't just 'whappam'–" Spider-Man makes a gesture nothing akin to how magic is generally used. "–portal Loki here?" His tone is doubtful. It's never that easy.

"I would do just fine," Ock interrupts. "Though I would prefer not to. You two can suffer on your own." She will not willingly admit that she would absolutely die in such a place; her species comes from deep water, adapted for near freezing tempatures. No species from her planet has the thermoregulation earthlings seem to possess, as the little strip of Altera capable of hosting life rarely changed temperatures outside a certain range. Her suit could only do so much to maintain her body's ideal temperatures.

Ceres shrugs. Ock is clearly lying, but they can't say they'll miss her. "Fine by me." They glance at Spidey. "It's hot as hell in there. Literally, it's practically hell." They've only been once, for a brief moment, but it was rough. Hopefully the mission won't take too long. They can't imagine how a frost giant like Loki is doing there.

Ceres removes the upper part of their costume, leaving them in something akin to a jumpsuit. They then tie the upper part around their waist. Less layers are always good when its that hot.

And from the sounds of it, he'd rather not go to a fiery realm with a variant of Ock who is only peaceful thanks to a flimsy and strained agreement. He can learn more about the fish lady possibly staying in his universe when he's not going to get roasted alive.

"Perhaps once you're back," Strange offers. "I'd presume you'd like your hands free in the face of the creatures from Muspelheim."

"Ready as I'll ever be. Not like I can shed any layers," Spider-Man agrees, only sounding mildly jealous of Ceres' suit. Yes, he designed his own suit, so it's only himself he has to blame, but that was before he had to deal with the heats not native to New York. By now, he has a brand that almost all of his team has copied.

Strange nods before twisting his hands around in the air, focused and controlled. The Eye of Agamotto opens, emitting a purple glow, and a beat later a portal opens to Muspelheim. Strange drops his hands, a few beads of sweat collecting at his temple, seemingly not from the heat slowly creeping into the room from the portal.

"We'll just give you a shout when we need to leave?" Spider-Man checks, already walking towards the portal like he knows the schedule by now.

"Yes, I suppose that will suffice," Strange confirms, rubbing his forehead.

"Alright. See you soon, Doc...sss, both of you." Spider-Man gives a two-finger salute before stepping through the portal. "Man, I know too many doctors."

The world around them is made of pale orange rock with many jagged edges. Volcanos and rivers of lava can be seen in the distance, and there is, of course, various patches of fire around. Ceres's nose scrunches at the smell of smoke.

"I've only been to the Muspelheim in my dimension once," Ceres says, "and it was only for a little bit, so I'm not fully sure what we're getting into here. I know there's fire demons here, and Sutur might be around somewhere. Just be on the lookout." They never actually had to fight him, but they heard stories. They hope the two avoid the giant entirely.

Ceres keeps an eye out for any green among the reds and oranges of the realm. Loki can't be far; they consider asking to split up, but decide if they do get attacked it'll be better to stick together. They go silent as they scan the horizon for their lost friend.

"Not like that! I prefer my dudes looking smoking hot, dare I say smouldering, but burning? No way," he corrects, mostly talking at the fire monster whirling around to smash his sword in his general direction rather than actually discussing his preferences in people with it. He ducks to the side, circling back around to Ceres. "Sorry, I think my brain is melting. This line of jokes is like the opposite of cool," he says as an aside to them, only partially aware of the hot pun that the 'opposite of cool' is, before calling out at the creature. "Almost as uncool as your sword technique! I haven't ever used one and I know it doesn't work like a club!"

They step back to give him space to swing the rock at the fire creature, letting out a shout of celebration as the rock collides. Their excitement is quickly wiped away as the creature still stands. "I think fire also beats rock," they quip. "But, hear me out--" they follow Spidey's attempt and use their webs to send another rock flying. "--two rocks."

The creature does not fall for this a second time, and dodges easily. Ceres blinks. "Welp, I'm out of ideas."

The creature charges them, and Ceres yelps as they dodge to the side; they attack from the back, landing a hard punch that sends the creature to the ground. They hiss as they wave their hand frantically. "Ow ow ow, that burns, ow."

While they're distracted, the creature grabs them by the ankle, sending them to the ground as well. They cry out and use their other foot to try and kick the creature away, to no avail.

Before anything else can be done, a green blast of energy slams into the creature. There is a hissing, and then silence.

As Ceres is dragged by the ankle, Spider-Man's mask lenses widen. He steps forward, but stops in his tracks as the fiery creature is struck with some sort of bright green light.

He flinches harder than he'd like to admit. But in his defense, usually sudden bright flashes are being shot at him, not his adversaries. He cracks open his eyes, peeking at the worse for wear Loki, and drops his arms from where they were shielding his face.

The teen takes his hand, allowing themself to be pulled up. They cringe slightly as the burn on their leg protests the sudden weight put on it, but they take great care not to react otherwise.

Ceres looks to Loki. "You alive?" They mean it as a joke, but Loki really doesn't look all that great. They're pretty sure he's on the verge of a heatstroke, between the unfocused look in his eyes and lack of comments thud far. Normally he would have made at least one remark about their terrible midbattle jokes after the fact. His skin isn't blue yet, though, a good sign.

Stop! Focus! Feel guilty later. Spider-Man has to shake off that withering feeling. "That's fine. I'm not planning to make a vacation home here or anything," he says, also looking to where the fire creature had disappeared.

Ock glances the group over. "You lived. How sad." Her gaze lingers on Ceres. "Though not without injury. Not all bad, then."

Ceres waltzes over and flicks Ock on the equivalent of her nose. "You're literally the worst. Hush." They turn to face the others, ignoring the murderous glare they're receiving. "So, I don't think Strange is looking up to travel right now. Are you good? You don't look good." They frown at the doctor before continuing, "...but when he is we got a road trip to K'un-Lun, and then we're home bound! Yay!" They pause, seemingly remembering something. "Weren't the Avengers looking for Loki? Should someone tell them we have him, and he's not committing war crimes like they thought he would? I'd hate to waste their time."

Side eyeing Loki for the attitude, Strange sits up more, an attempt to look more composed that is convincing to those who don't know him well. "I am fine. Creating portals between realms like Muspelheim is not a task I regularly perform, and for good reason: it is rather strenuous." He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief to rid it of the worst of the sweat that built up.

When Ceres poses the question of telling the Avengers, Spider-Man tilts his head. He can't believe he's agreeing with Loki here, but the Avengers were told that this Loki wasn't a threat and ignored that, so... "They've wasted their time in worse ways. It's not like they listened the first time anyway," he adds. It isn't the team player move that would increase his rapport with Earth's mightiest heroes, but he was taught by Nicholas 'tell them only what is necessary' Fury first.

"So, how about that water, huh?" Spider-Man questions rather than linger. He marches off towards where he knows the kitchen to be, pausing just before the hall. He should probably delegate the role of making sure no one dies before he leaves, even if it's only for a few seconds. Murderous, about to be murdered, exhausted, exhausted but recovering faster. "You–" He points to Loki. "–Make sure no one dies. Please? And Capey, come help me with the water." Capey floats off of Strange's shoulders, slipping towards Spider-Man, but momentarily darting back to pat Strange on the head in some sort of apology.

Ceres can't argue with that. Not their fault the Avengers don't know how to listen.

Loki jumps a little at the sudden attention on him. He only sighs and solemnly nods when he realizes the task he's been assigned. "I will do my best." He looks around at the group; Crazed scientist, annoying sorcerer, teen with a knack for getting themself in trouble, and him. Not the worst he's worked with, somehow. He can keep them alive for a few moments while Spider-Man leaves.

Ock is not happy. She was forced into enemy territory. She knew Ceres was going to go on some heroic spiel about how she needed to return home with them and blah blah blah. She was not going to return. She was also not happy with being marched into an enemy's home, surrounded by unfamiliar sciences. She hates not knowing. She also hates this stupid truce, because the idea of pretending to be Ceres's equal is humiliating.

And now Ceres has humiliated her again by telling her to "hush." She knows attacking is a bad idea. She is outnumbered (another thing she hates.) Strange has magic and so does Loki and both spiders have considerable strength that she can take on individually but not together.

But Strange is exhausted and Loki is too and Ceres is injured. Spider-Man is gone and so is the cape and even if she cannot win she can at least prove she is better. That's what she tells herself, anyways. She really just wants a fight.

Ceres's shouts can be heard before Spider-Man even enters the room. When he does enter, Ock has Ceres pinned against the floor with a tentacle, Loki is shouting something while summoning what little magic he can muster, Ceres is shouting about their truce and telling Ock to let go, and Strange is watching in bewilderment.

It's not until Ock sees Spider-Man that she lets go. The odds are against her again; she cannot win if he is here. Loki and Strange can't fight well and Ceres won't kill her but she still isn't sure about the other Spider. "Should've stabbed you quicker," she hisses under her breath, glaring daggers at Ceres. She could have done it and ran and been done with this.

"Was my Ock this murder-y? With the whole dissecting thing, maybe" he mutters into his hand, looking up at the high ceiling. His Ock has backstabbed many times during their so-called truces, but he can't recall one while in such a disadvantageous position. He doesn't pay any mind to the expression Strange has; he must have overheard, but it's not like Spider-Man could be bothered to figure out if it's confusion or concern on his face.

He nods as Ceres asks for a water, taking one from Capey and handing it to them. "I've also got bandages," he says, not intending to leave much of a choice in whether or not they are taken. Burns aren't his strong suit when it comes to treating them—most of his solutions are to merely slap a bandage on it anyway—but hopefully Ceres or Loki know how. Strange probably would know, but his hands don't seem to be very steady at the moment. Capey lays out the rest of the water bottles and the roll of bandages out on an end table before returning to Strange, dropping one of the bottles into his lap.

"As for you." Spider-Man looks towards Ock, not bothering to put on a show of disappointment. He knows his opinion doesn't matter to her. Though he does appreciate that she at least stopped trying to kill Ceres once he walked in, even if it wasn't because of anything besides realizing the odds are against her. "We had a deal. You don't do that–" He waves his hand around to gesture to the scene that just occurred. "–And you'd get to stay in my universe while we figure out the whole Norma thing. I'm already going to have to fight thirty different people to keep you out of a cell during your stay, never mind how many I'll have to fight to keep you in this universe, so don't make it harder for me by trying to kill people, no matter how much they snub or mock you." He would stand up for Ock against all those people, but when it comes to her realizing that, he might just be talking to a wall, so he adds on one more thing. "You're smart. That much is obvious. Don't throw it all away with a stupid decision." He's still unfamiliar with how exactly this Ock works, but intellect matters a lot to his Ock, so he may as well try to feed into her ego that way.

"And we'll try to avoid antagonizing each other too much." He looks over his shoulder at Ceres. He's guilty of doing the same with his Ock, so he can't blame them, not when their Ock was also chiming in with similar comments and starting things, but rising to the challenge given by someone operating on a hairpin trigger doesn't help. As fun as it can be when there's no injury impeding one's ability to move.

If it comes down to it, she's not sure whether she'd pick her own freedom or Ceres's death. Freedom runs the risk of recapture. Ceres's death runs the risk of her own. For now, though, the possibility of both was still on the table. She just needed to play her cards right.

Ceres looks away as they're chastised. That was fair; they really weren't helping the already tense relations here. They're not going to promise it won't happen again, but they'll at least think about it before they do anything stupid, a step above their usual "act fast, think of consequences later" attitude. They sit up, cracking open the bottle they were handed and taking a long sip.

Loki takes the bandages and tosses them to Ceres before he takes a seat on the floor as well, slowly sipping at his own water. He hates to admit it, but the heat did get to him. He's far from full strength. At least he didn't have to push his already sparse seiðr reserves to keep Ock from murdering Ceres. He'd done a relatively alright job keeping the teen from dying so far; it'd be a shame to have all that hard work thrown away because he didn't have enough magic in him to stop their murder.

Ceres removes their boot and looks over the damage to their leg. It wasn't as bad as they first thought -- their boots took the brunt of the damage, partially burnt away from the heat. The ankle itself is red and blistered, on the worse side of a second degree burn, but their healing factor is already taking care of it. They wrap it loosely.

Opening his water bottle, he rolls his mask above his nose before taking a sip. He takes a peek as Ceres wraps their ankle, not completely satisfied with the dressing, but he understands why it was done so. He drums his fingers against his water bottle, looking away. As Ceres complains about their boot, he nods. Costume damage always sucks, but better the suit than them.

I could ask Danny for a ride to K'un-Lun. He rules the place, after all, has a jet, and it would be cheaper and quicker than a commercial flight. It would just be a matter of avoiding the Avengers' efforts to catch Loki under their assumptions that he's the same as their Loki. Smuggling a god out of New York in a private jet. No biggie. Maybe a S.H.I.E.L.D. jet would be better. Fury is used to me "borrowing" anyway. Facing Fury's wrath is more appealing than possibly dealing with angry and unreasonable Avengers, and risking Danny's identity. Of course Rand would have to go on the side of the jet, or at least it was from what Spider-Man remembers.

Airlines are immediately out of the option anyway. Loki is well-known enough that getting on a flight would be impossible, and that's without considering what reaction Ock would garner with her charming fishiness. So, S.H.I.E.L.D. jet it is.

Ceres takes another sip of their water, glancing between the two. They're pretty sure they already know the answer; S.H.I.E.L.D. would never willingly transport Loki to anywhere but a jail cell. That's not even mentioning the bad taste Ock would probably put in their mouths. "Don't they fly around in a giant airship thingy? Gonna be hard to sneak in."

Loki hums. "I think I could conjure up a few cloaking spells. It's a little harder to work them around technology than magic, but given enough time..." He taps his chin as he thinks. He could manage to mask the four for a brief period once he recovered a bit more strength. Once they're on, it's a matter of avoiding the agents on board.

Ceres grins. "Sounds like a plan." Half a plan, really, but better than what they usually work with. "Dibs on flying the jet out!" Flying a jet is probably just like flying a spaceship, right? They have plenty of experience in that, and they kind of miss flying around fast. "Think I could do a barrel roll?"

He holds a hand over his mouth as he thinks. "There's S.H.I.E.L.D. tunnels at my old high school from when me and my team used to go there. They would hook up to the Helicarrier when it was under water, would probably do the same with the Tricarrier. We're only five, right?" He looks over everyone here, counting heads. Himself, Ceres, Loki, Ock, Strange (and Capey). That's five, thankfully. One more and seating would get awkward.

"So, check with Coulson if the tunnels still work, get to Midtown, get onto the Tricarrier, grab a jet, and fly out before the Tricarrier has fully breached that water and it's safe for other jets to pursue," Spider-Man says simply, though it won't be that simple because when is it ever? "Uh, actually, how likely is everyone to kill me if I suggest we take the sewers to get to Midtown to avoid all of New York from seeing us march into a school?" He knows going through the sewers is far from a fan favorite—not like he enjoys the smell either—but after dealing with the Lizard, he's found them to be a decent way to avoid prying eyes, and it keeps potential dangers out of the streets (Ock, cough cough).

Strange's eyes narrow. Hoofing it in the sewers is the opposite of appealing to the normal person. Strange, who has managed to avoid the messier aspects of working with Spider-Man thus far, is likely much less pleased. "Spider-Man, that is–"

Ceres makes a face. They've been to planets that smell like nothing but sulfer and rotten eggs, and it sucks, but they can do it if they have to. "If it keeps us from getting swarmed by the guys with the guns, I'm down." They don't really wanna get in a fight with The Avengers, or SHIELD, or whoever else. For one, they would have to restrain themself more than normal, because they don't want to seriously hurt the good guys. For two, they don't trust Ock not to kill anyone. For three, they don't exactly trust Loki not to pull a violent stunt either. Not that he'd kill anyone (not while they're watching, at least, but that's a different conversation,) but he'd feel a lot less worse about injuring people who were just doing their job. Especially if the Thor of this dimension was involved in the fight. They can tell that if there weren't consequences for punching his Thor in the face, he would've already. Punching a Thor that he'll never have to see again? Loki wouldn't think twice. They can handle a smelly trip to avoid bloodshed.

Loki nods. "If we must." He mentally goes through a catalog of spells he knows -- can he restrict his sense of smell? He can definitely make a small shield of sort around his boots to avoid stepping in anything... unsavory. Strange doesn't seem all that thrilled to go into the sewer, which is all the more reason to go.

He prepares to call Coulson on his wrist communicator, but pauses. The thing is basically permanently on speaker, and he still isn't sure how exactly the camera works for his communicator, so catching either Loki or Ock in frame would be less than ideal. He would step out if it weren't for the previous experience of Ock trying to kill Ceres the second he did. She likely wouldn't try again, but call him cautious.

So, instead he jumps up to the ceiling. He hates the ceiling in the Sanctum Sanctorum because Strange's idea of decor is tiled ceilings, intricately engraved with eyes that protrude and actually open. He avoids stepping on the eyes, obviously, as he stands upside down on the ceiling.

There. He's still in the room but there's no way anyone else will be in frame. Everyone will likely still hear the conversation, but that isn't something he's too worried about. It just means he won't have to repeat himself. He calls Coulson.

"Spider-Man," greets just about the most boring voice one can imagine. Most would not imagine the owner of the voice to be one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest ranking agents, or maybe you would if S.H.I.E.L.D. comes off that boring.

"Coulson, do the tunnels at Midtown to the Tricarrier still work?" Spider-Man can tell immediately that his question has him surprised, but it's not like anyone knows of his little mission to harbor Loki and Ock away from the Avengers.

"They should. Why? Can you not get onto the Tricarrier your usual way?" Being firing a web while it's up in the sky and hauling himself up. "Can the alternate spider you're with not reach it with their webs?" Coulson continues, clearly aware of the story he gave the Avengers; he's showing Ceres around New York while the 'adults' look for Loki and Ock.

"What? Who told you?" It does save him from having to repeat his lie, but getting snitched on to Coulson of all people, that bugs him. No pun intended.

"Black Widow. It's important to know the whereabouts of beings from other universes... or if someone responsible is watching them."

Unlikely. He is stronger. He will kill you. Foolish thought.

Ceres shoots Spidey a thumbs up and a grin. They can't say they haven't pulled similar schemes to get out of calls or keep cover; it's crazy how much pretending to make people inflate your ego make them not want to talk to you.

"Can't believe Widow's a nark. Well-- I can, actually. But still." They awkwardly cough and clear their throat. "Alright, gang, let's get this show on the road!" They stand, testing the weight on their ankle. It barely hurts, so they'll probably be fine. They look to the two resident magic users.

"You two good?" They were the only others affected by the fight in Muspelheim, after all. Not everyone had a healing factor.

Loki nods and downs the rest of his water before standing. "I am ready. Let's get this over with, shall we?" He brushes past the others, knowing that he can make it outside the labyrinth of a house without help from Strange. He's starting to feel a little stuffy with all the people in the room. "Meet you all outside, assuming the good doctor needs another moment. I know magic takes more out of ameatur sorcerers." As he walks, his jacket shortens. He can do the walk, but he'd rather not have to clean stains out of his clothes. Gross.

Ceres watches him walk out with a mildly annoyed look. They were doing a okay-ish job olaying nice with Ock; why couldn't he at least try?

"I will be fine." Strange says, giving Ceres a grateful nod as he pushes himself up. He looks to Spider-Man with the patience of a saint—honestly, the man has put up with his nonsense more than most other adult heroes, so the fact he hasn't been smote by the icy tendrils of ikthalon is quite the feat—and a raised eyebrow. "Why would the Eye of Agamotto grant you 'grape-scented' webs?"

"Because they were purple, so I'm pretty sure they smelled like grapes," Spider-Man reasons as he begins to trail after Loki, slow enough that he can make sure Strange is genuinely fine and not acting tough. Whether the wizard will be going around with a spring in his step is to be debated, but he's walking well enough.

"I believe that is what you call a placebo effect."

Ock stares, deadpan. "I do not know what a grape is, Spider. My planet does not have the same food as yours."

Ceres blinks. "We gotta get you some grapes," they decide, exiting the Sanctum Sanctorum. Ock mumbles something under her breath, no doubt an insult.

Loki is already outside when they get there. He's leaned against a wall, watching the crowd move outside. He gives the group a short glance as they exit; he doesn't say much, but he doesn't look particularly excited.

If Ock is going to stay in his universe, she's definitely getting asked about that. Science, biology, stuff to bond over. They'll absolutely be besties in no time.

He looks over to Ceres as they talk about high school, or lack thereof. "That really depends on the movie—it definitely wasn't like Mean Girls—and who you ask. I mean, if you ask me, I'm pretty sure I got bullied by a guy who took notes from movies from the 80s," he stage whispers, even though Flash is not around to hear it. "I don't think I got the normal high school experience anyway between who I was friends with and the whole superhero thing." He pulls at the chest of his suit. "Most of the time it was chill, though, if you knew what you were learning."

He pauses at the edge of the property of the Sanctum Sanctorum, checking for witnesses outside of the illusion barrier before moving towards the nearest manhole cover and lifting it with his webs. "Just don't get in the water. It's not the stinkiest place in New York, but, y'know, stay on the side walkways." He wishes it were merely a sewer for storm runoff, but older parts of the city, so older sewage systems. At least he knows how to get just about anywhere through the sewers thanks to all of his time spent trying to track down the Lizard.

So long as no one murders each other, he can handle some sour moods. If it weren't for how often he's fallen into gross things, he would be bothered too. For the sake of everyone's safety, he'll try to lead them to Midtown High quickly. They could probably make it in 15 minutes if everyone kept up the pace.

Ceres is the first to go down after Strange, placing their hands and feet on either side of the ladder and sliding down. Their face wrinkles when they reach the bottom. Not the smelliest they've dealt with (they've been on a handful of sulfer-filled planets,) but still far from pleasant. They move to stand next to Strange as the next person descends.

Neither Loki nor Ock moves first. They both look at each other, Loki with annoyance and Ock with disdain. "I will be last, thank you. I do not trust any of you not to stab me the moment my back is turned," Ock hisses.

Loki opens his mouth to retort, but seems to think better of himself. The faster he gets this done, the faster he gets to go home and get off Midgard. He sighs heavily. "As long as you agree not to make any attempts on my life, doctor." He leaps down, stopping just an inch above the floor. He hates this, very much so, but he does take mild pleasure in watching Strange's face morph into one of disgust.

"What? Me too?" That is what last means, he knows, but being just a little difficult is in his nature. "What would I even stab you with?" He displays his empty hands. "This suit doesn't come with pockets."

With a sigh, he complies, beginning down the ladder. "Fine! But if you don't come down after me, you bet your helmet you'll be coming down here in a web cocoon. His hand raises out of the manhole to point threateningly at Ock, likely losing some of its power as his stern expression is lost due to the fact he's going down a ladder.

Once he reaches the bottom, Spider-Man turns and does a quick headcount, not that he has to worry since they're already in here with him. "You're good to come down, Ock!" His voice echoes off of the round walls, mixing with the quiet lap of water. He listens as best he can for footsteps running away from the manhole.

Ceres pulls their mask a little lower over their face, though it's unfortunately too short to pull over their nose. Stupid younger them wanting to show off their stupid fangs.

They glances at the light from Spidey's chest; they don't wanna be mean, but it's kinda dim. Probably not enough to lead 5 people (6, counting the cape) through the sewers without at least one tripping.

(That is a funny thought, though. They kinda hope it's Ock.)

He shakes his head. No time for that now. They're at the third base, or third plate, or whatever, near the finish line. Noticing the glow of the magic, he gives Loki a nod of thanks. "Let's get out of here."

He doesn't turn off his own poor 'flashlight', any light is good light, and he doesn't want to search for the button again. Taking the lead, Spider-Man sets off down the sewer tunnel, peering down each fork in the sewer and counting over the sets of footsteps behind him. With the echoes and the fact that a third, counting Capey, are floating, footsteps isn't the best method to make sure everyone is here, but he's mostly worried about Ock and Strange because one may run away and the other's footsteps are dragging.

Strange's face is stony, the usual for the sorcerer, his eyes set forward as if he can see despite the darkness looming outside of Loki's magic and strands of his own hair hanging in his face. He's keeping up fine enough, even if his boots are not clicking against the stone path, instead scraping quietly, definitely mucking up the bright yellow color. Strange has had better days, but he has definitely looked worse than the tired expression he has now.

They don't really know Strange well enough to know his baseline, but they're pretty sure it's usually better than this. They feel a little bad for making him hold the portal open so long; it clearly took more out of him than they thought it would.

Maybe they were just used to Loki's level of stamina. He was an Asgardian (kind of? Jotuun by birth, but he stayed shifted into an Asgardian form) and thus already had a bit of an advantage endurance-wise, and had Strange beat in the magic game by a few centuries. Maybe most people would get super tired after magic usage.

When they're not making sure Strange isnt going to pass out they watch Ock. She clearly does not like having Ceres follow behind her, and keeps shooting the spider glares sharp enough to cut. She does this again and Ceres sticks out their tongue, earning a low grumble from the scientist.

"Should?" Strange echoes, clearly eager to get out of the sewer tunnel.

"Yes, should, because the conclusive data–" He gestures to the manhole cover and presumably outside of it. "–hasn't been observed yet. It's a hypothesis."

"You said you knew where to go." At this point, Strange is just making it difficult for the sake of it, at least, that's what Spider-Man is assuming because it's a nicer thing to believe than the idea that Strange still thinks he's incompetent after all of their missions together. He's just being grouchy.

"Duh, but you don't say something is absolute until you can prove it. That's basic science. I thought you were a doctor." He sighs dramatically, "And here I was trying to bond." He climbs up the ladder the rest of the way, pushing open the manhole cover—only gritting his teeth a little at the scrape of metal on asphalt—and poking his head out. "Here we are. See? Told you!" He crawls fully out, checking his surroundings before sticking his head back in. "You're good to come up. One at a time, please." That probably didn't need stating, but he's had moments where his teammates all tried to go through a door at once.

Ock doesn't hesitate to take up Spider-Man's offer; she's out within seconds, cursing about the cramped space they entire way up. Ceres tilts their head as she leaves and follows quickly after; they still dont trust her not to bolt.

In the sewer, Strange gives Loki a dark glower, clicking his tongue, "Tch, then I suppose it is a good thing I do not concern myself with such things as vanity." He completely ignores the implications of looking terrible, focusing on the appearance aspect instead before he pushes himself up the ladder, mostly using Capey to float up rather than touch the rungs with his hands.

Once everyone is back in the light of day, Spider-Man toes the manhole cover back into place. He gestures for everyone to follow and leads them to the high school's iron gates. "Just to be very clear, I don't go here anymore, so if you're going to try and kill me, don't waste your time here," he announces, kind of useless considering roughly half of the group is going back to their own universe, and hopefully the rest don't try and kill him. But it's better to be safe than sorry. No way is anyone going to get hurt because of him. The front yard of the school is decorated with sparse trees and a bench that seems to be more graffiti than wood at this point.

Through the glass doors are beige walls and multi-colored tile floors in a pattern that is slightly off-center. There's a trophy case and a few student artworks high on the walls, and the echo of the whistled tune from the janitor.

"Killing you here would be a disservice to those actually trying to learn," Ock responds dryly. "I would wait until school was out."

The group trails behind Spider-Man, following as he leads them in. Ceres runs a hand along the wall as they walk, taking in the vibes of the place. It really isnt all that much different from the movies, appearance wise. If anything, it looks less exciting. They can't imagine they missed much by skipping out on the school thing entirely.

They perk a little at the sound of whistling. Their group is a little big, and they aren't sure how stealthy Ock can be (not that Ceres themself is awfully sneaky.) They think about bringing it up, but Spidey has the same super senses they do, and he's not commenting on it. It's... probably fine.

"Rodger," they hum as Spidey explains the plan. "Ock can run fast. Right, Ock?"

Spider-Man nods as Ceres confirms what he hopes is actually true. So long as everyone can keep up they will be fine. He turns into one of the classrooms, letting everyone in before shutting the door. "Take a seat in any chair, no feet on the tables."

Ock, of course, starts cursing out everyone involved, both in English and in her native tongue. "WE AGREED ON A TRUCE, YOU BACKSTABBING LYING--" Ceres still has that translator in their neck and decides it might be best the others (excluding loki) can't understand the names she's calling them all. They're not very flattering.

Loki, much like Strange, swears as he hits a bend and screams something about a warning being appreciated.

When they are finally dropped at their destination, Ceres is the only of the three to land on their feet. They watch as Loki stands, brushing his pants legs off and mumbling something about undignified travel methods.

Upon seeing Ceres stick the landing, Spider-Man cheers, "Hey! Look at that! I wasn't able to do tha– uh-oh." He leaps to the ceiling after spotting the murderous intent in Ock's eyes. "Can I just mention that killing me now would be a really bad idea?" he utters quickly. "I mean, between 50 feet of water and– nevermind."

Being antagonistic won't help. Unfortunately for his sharp tongue, he has to be the mature one. "We can deal with the issues you have with me after we all get out of the enclosed space with armed agents at every corner."

He cautiously lowers himself from the ceiling. "And that's not an invitation to attack me on the jet either," he adds, forcing his posture to relax. He has no reason to try and make himself look bigger. "Let's get going. I don't want to know how many people heard all of that." He peeks out of the doorway. Not to mention whoever monitors the entrances from the school counted three extra arrivals than the two Coulson probably allowed. Things are going to get busy fast.

Loki raises his hands, a green glow emanating from them for a moment. After a brief moment, the light snakes around the rest the group, and everyone becomes a translucent sort of mint shade.

"We can see each other," Loki hums, "but no one else should be able to see us. They can still hear, though. I cannot guarantee it blocks us from camera view; the spell only suggests passerby dont see us, but becomes less effective through the lens of technology. Keep your guard up and be quiet." He gives a nod to Spider-Man. "Lead the way, Spider."

(If he sends a smug look to Strange, Ceres doesnt notice.)

He turns and waves for everyone to follow him. Quiet was not something he practiced often, but he knows how to keep his mouth shut and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s floors muffle footsteps pretty well. Imagine the clang of the heavy boots on metal floors without some sort of sound dampening; that's why they muffle sound. He still takes care to fire a web at the cameras in their path and randomly opening the metal doors around them in a continued effort to make their trail difficult to follow.

The walk to the hangar was peaceful enough. Spider-Man only stopped them once with a raise of his hand as a pair of S.H.I.E.L.D. guards walked by, chatting to each other about someone stealing lunches in the break room. The doors to the hangar wooshed open and they all stepped inside.

Spider-Man heard the gun readying before the guard could demand, "Who's there?"

"A ghost. Now don't cause any trouble," Spider-Man instructs, webbing one of the guards hands to the wall. The gun still raises, unsteady since it is unsupported. He sighs dramatically, webbing the muzzle and pulling it from the guard's hand. They struggle to pull their hand free before coming to a stop, staring at a big red button that likely spells trouble for the group. "No. Don't even–" The heel of their boot slams onto the button. "Ooh, you're a pain." At least all of them are already here.

He walks up to the desk, not bothering with the button; the alarm has been set off. Instead, he grabs the pack of sticky notes and writes out "Sorry!" with a quick spider drawing, in case the webs weren't obvious enough, and a second note saying "Good guard!" with an arrow pointing down. He sticks both to the guard's helmet. "Just one sec, guys," he calls, opening up the desktop and typing something rapidly, giving himself access to the bay door controls.

Tony was in his lab, music on full blast. Usually he blasted old rock hits, but a song he hadn't heard since his college days, one that Rhodey had put him onto, came on. Work was abandoned and Tony had started to dance like no one was watching. No one could resist this song.

' The last time we had a party

It ended when the sun came out

That's why your mama told you that you couldn't go out

Stay in the house

Bad boy '

Tony glided against the floor as if he was Fred Astaire. He never told anyone that before he was shipped off, he actually wanted to go to Juilliard, but his father didn't permit it, despite his mother letting him take dance classes in his early teens to 'get him away from science for a bit'

Tony continued to dance and spin to the song, as if he was rehearsing a choreographed performance, unaware that eyes were watching him from the doorway.

Honestly, he was not sure what to do now. Back up and never speak of this again? Tease the man? Compliment him? After all, Tony definitely had a better rhythm than him, and knew how to dance.

Which was Tony's version of saying 'You can stay'. He didn't mind the company and he needed someone to talk to that wasn't himself or FRIDAY. Sure, he preferred his solitude but he had been told over and over that he needed to let people him and stop shutting people out and he considered Spider-Man one of the least annoying people in his circle. He wasn't too preachy like Steve, too paranoid like Bruce, too doting like Rhodey could be, and his quips could be amusing sometimes.

He wandered over to a wall, not thinking much of it. Don't touch anything didn't include the walls, right? It was somewhat better than standing around awkwardly. At least until Tony spoke up again. "Against every instinct in the book," he sighed dramatically. Was it truly his instinct that compelled him to climb up walls, and therefore out of reach, when he was unsure? He couldn't easily say. It could just be a habit. "Second best," he decided, even though he currently didn't have someone who currently beat Tony.

Tony was in his lab, music on full blast. Usually he blasted old rock hits, but a song he hadn't heard since his college days, one that Rhodey had put him onto, came on. Work was abandoned and Tony had started to dance like no one was watching. No one could resist this song.

' The last time we had a party

It ended when the sun came out

That's why your mama told you that you couldn't go out

Stay in the house

Bad boy '

Tony glided against the floor as if he was Fred Astaire. He never told anyone that before he was shipped off, he actually wanted to go to Juilliard, but his father didn't permit it, despite his mother letting him take dance classes in his early teens to 'get him away from science for a bit'

Tony continued to dance and spin to the song, as if he was rehearsing a choreographed performance, unaware that eyes were watching him from the doorway.

Honestly, he was not sure what to do now. Back up and never speak of this again? Tease the man? Compliment him? After all, Tony definitely had a better rhythm than him, and knew how to dance.

The Avengers' common room is about as loud as it usually gets. Tony and Steve are bickering or joking—who knows with those two?—there's coffee being made a few feet away in the kitchen. It's a calm chatter, which is odd since Spider-Man is visiting. He's sat on the arm of the couch, staring between Tony and Steve like he's listening to their argument, but the lack of interruptions suggests he has barely heard a word of it. At first, he did seem to at least put in the effort to switch his focus to whoever was speaking, but right now, the spot between the two appears to be far more interesting to Spider-Man.

The usually restless hero hadn't even moved, not until Clint accidentally set down the coffee mugs he grabbed from the cabinet too hard, then, Spider-Man's head snapped towards the noise like it was about to attack him, lenses wide as he stares for a moment. However, a jaunty remark from Tony grabs his attention back to the argument/conversation, and he rests his chin in his hand, not matching that remark with any sort of joke of his own.

As Ceres explains, Spider-Man leans back, glancing back at Ock. "You can call him Capey," he mutters, gesturing to the cape.

"Do not. Spider-Man–" Strange begins to protest, giving Spider-Man a harsh look that is obviously ineffective since he immediately retorts.

"Why? Do you have a name for your swickityawetastic cape?"

That makes Strange pause, not to think about a name for his cape, no, but likely to question Spider-Man's sanity—even though this behaviour should not be a surprise. "Are you making up spells again?" he demands, almost hopeful that that is the answer.

"No. Does it look like it's Halloween to you?" And there were numerous other factors that allowed him to imagine a spell. "Come on, swickityawetastic? I said that so many episodes ago. You need to catch up, man," Spider-Man complains. "Capey gets it." To which the cape in question perks up at the collar proudly.

Ock glances at Spider-Man and mumbles, "You can call it Capey. I will not risk annoying a man with such power. I value my life."

Ceres gives Ock a thumbs down. "Lameee," they reply. "Strange is a good guy, which means he usually doesn't kill people for the crime of being annoying. Unlike some people I know. Besides, Capey likes the name." Ock grumbles but does not grace Ceres with a response.

Strange doesn't turn around to look at the group as he listens, staring up through the stained glass window hanging above the grand staircase taking up the back of the room. "Not alone. I am well-versed in time and its passages. However, to travel across dimensions, to one specific universe would be, as you say, 'like finding a needle in a haystack'," Strange explains, his words slightly stilted as he utters the metaphor. Spider-Man doesn't get why exactly; the man has been on Earth for most of his life. But then again he also wanted to study Halloween, so who knows what is up with that.

Ock makes a face at the question, as if she thinks Spidey is stupid for even asking. "We come from a spacefaring universe, spider. I have traveled the cosmos. Ceres lives in a spaceship." She looks mildly disgusted as she adds, "I have been on it. It is filthy."

Strange looks contemplative. "This 'roadtrip' is not to sightsee or play around. Snacks are unnecessary. We are merely there to create a means for you all to return home," he reminds.

Ceres nods, a little greatful Spider-Man bailed them out of getting a lecture. They'd had enough magic related lectures from Loki growing up. (Mostly some variation of "No, Ceres, I cannot fix that with magic. No, I am not saying that because I don't want to. If I attempted such a feat you would most likely die. No, I will not attempt it anyways.")

"Alright!" They say, clapping their hands together. "So, step one, tracking Loki. If it makes it any easier, she has at least a couple of wards on me. Mostly stuff to manage my chronic illness. Might help you get a frame of reference for what kind of magic youre looking for." They really didn't have any idea how magic worked, but they figure extra info is better than not enough. "Step two is contacting Madame Web and getting us a way home?"

"She's... uh, I don't exactly know. She's a pal of Nick's– er, Fury, for sure. Got some kind of see-the-future power, just without the crystal ball, and some sort of connection with the web of reality or something." Madame Web is a bit of a recluse—no pun intended—so that along with Fury's penchant for secrets makes the information Spider-Man has on her not-so substantial. "But I do know she and Strange can make a portal to other realities together. And that she's a friend."

Ceres stands on their tip toes, trying to see over the edge of the book and onto it's pages without getting close enough to go into a coughing fit from the dust. It's probably in some language they don't know, but they're naturally curious.

Strange looks up from the book, unamused with the chiding, but he flicks his wrist, a purple wisp of magic leaving his hand and carrying the dust along with it out of the room. "They are not dust bears," he mutters defensively, sticking his nose back in the book. Spider-Man crosses his arms, glancing over to Ceres with a theatrical disbelieving expression.

They look mildly confused as the wrong Loki shoes up -- hair too short, scar on the nose missing, too much armor -- but they light up again as their Loki forms from the liquid. "That's him!" They exclaim. "That's-- Where is that?" It's clearly not New York.

Ock, from a distance, also watches. Her head tilts as she takes in the moving liquid; there is not anything similar to such magic on her planet. A part of her wants to study it, to wield it. A part of her fears it. She remains where she is, several feet away.

"Muspelheim," Strange recognizes. "Certainly no vacation."

"And we can't just 'whappam'–" Spider-Man makes a gesture nothing akin to how magic is generally used. "–portal Loki here?" His tone is doubtful. It's never that easy.

"I would do just fine," Ock interrupts. "Though I would prefer not to. You two can suffer on your own." She will not willingly admit that she would absolutely die in such a place; her species comes from deep water, adapted for near freezing tempatures. No species from her planet has the thermoregulation earthlings seem to possess, as the little strip of Altera capable of hosting life rarely changed temperatures outside a certain range. Her suit could only do so much to maintain her body's ideal temperatures.

Ceres shrugs. Ock is clearly lying, but they can't say they'll miss her. "Fine by me." They glance at Spidey. "It's hot as hell in there. Literally, it's practically hell." They've only been once, for a brief moment, but it was rough. Hopefully the mission won't take too long. They can't imagine how a frost giant like Loki is doing there.

Ceres removes the upper part of their costume, leaving them in something akin to a jumpsuit. They then tie the upper part around their waist. Less layers are always good when its that hot.

And from the sounds of it, he'd rather not go to a fiery realm with a variant of Ock who is only peaceful thanks to a flimsy and strained agreement. He can learn more about the fish lady possibly staying in his universe when he's not going to get roasted alive.

"Perhaps once you're back," Strange offers. "I'd presume you'd like your hands free in the face of the creatures from Muspelheim."

"Ready as I'll ever be. Not like I can shed any layers," Spider-Man agrees, only sounding mildly jealous of Ceres' suit. Yes, he designed his own suit, so it's only himself he has to blame, but that was before he had to deal with the heats not native to New York. By now, he has a brand that almost all of his team has copied.

Strange nods before twisting his hands around in the air, focused and controlled. The Eye of Agamotto opens, emitting a purple glow, and a beat later a portal opens to Muspelheim. Strange drops his hands, a few beads of sweat collecting at his temple, seemingly not from the heat slowly creeping into the room from the portal.

"We'll just give you a shout when we need to leave?" Spider-Man checks, already walking towards the portal like he knows the schedule by now.

"Yes, I suppose that will suffice," Strange confirms, rubbing his forehead.

"Alright. See you soon, Doc...sss, both of you." Spider-Man gives a two-finger salute before stepping through the portal. "Man, I know too many doctors."

The world around them is made of pale orange rock with many jagged edges. Volcanos and rivers of lava can be seen in the distance, and there is, of course, various patches of fire around. Ceres's nose scrunches at the smell of smoke.

"I've only been to the Muspelheim in my dimension once," Ceres says, "and it was only for a little bit, so I'm not fully sure what we're getting into here. I know there's fire demons here, and Sutur might be around somewhere. Just be on the lookout." They never actually had to fight him, but they heard stories. They hope the two avoid the giant entirely.

Ceres keeps an eye out for any green among the reds and oranges of the realm. Loki can't be far; they consider asking to split up, but decide if they do get attacked it'll be better to stick together. They go silent as they scan the horizon for their lost friend.

"Not like that! I prefer my dudes looking smoking hot, dare I say smouldering, but burning? No way," he corrects, mostly talking at the fire monster whirling around to smash his sword in his general direction rather than actually discussing his preferences in people with it. He ducks to the side, circling back around to Ceres. "Sorry, I think my brain is melting. This line of jokes is like the opposite of cool," he says as an aside to them, only partially aware of the hot pun that the 'opposite of cool' is, before calling out at the creature. "Almost as uncool as your sword technique! I haven't ever used one and I know it doesn't work like a club!"

They step back to give him space to swing the rock at the fire creature, letting out a shout of celebration as the rock collides. Their excitement is quickly wiped away as the creature still stands. "I think fire also beats rock," they quip. "But, hear me out--" they follow Spidey's attempt and use their webs to send another rock flying. "--two rocks."

The creature does not fall for this a second time, and dodges easily. Ceres blinks. "Welp, I'm out of ideas."

The creature charges them, and Ceres yelps as they dodge to the side; they attack from the back, landing a hard punch that sends the creature to the ground. They hiss as they wave their hand frantically. "Ow ow ow, that burns, ow."

While they're distracted, the creature grabs them by the ankle, sending them to the ground as well. They cry out and use their other foot to try and kick the creature away, to no avail.

Before anything else can be done, a green blast of energy slams into the creature. There is a hissing, and then silence.

As Ceres is dragged by the ankle, Spider-Man's mask lenses widen. He steps forward, but stops in his tracks as the fiery creature is struck with some sort of bright green light.

He flinches harder than he'd like to admit. But in his defense, usually sudden bright flashes are being shot at him, not his adversaries. He cracks open his eyes, peeking at the worse for wear Loki, and drops his arms from where they were shielding his face.

The teen takes his hand, allowing themself to be pulled up. They cringe slightly as the burn on their leg protests the sudden weight put on it, but they take great care not to react otherwise.

Ceres looks to Loki. "You alive?" They mean it as a joke, but Loki really doesn't look all that great. They're pretty sure he's on the verge of a heatstroke, between the unfocused look in his eyes and lack of comments thud far. Normally he would have made at least one remark about their terrible midbattle jokes after the fact. His skin isn't blue yet, though, a good sign.

Stop! Focus! Feel guilty later. Spider-Man has to shake off that withering feeling. "That's fine. I'm not planning to make a vacation home here or anything," he says, also looking to where the fire creature had disappeared.

Ock glances the group over. "You lived. How sad." Her gaze lingers on Ceres. "Though not without injury. Not all bad, then."

Ceres waltzes over and flicks Ock on the equivalent of her nose. "You're literally the worst. Hush." They turn to face the others, ignoring the murderous glare they're receiving. "So, I don't think Strange is looking up to travel right now. Are you good? You don't look good." They frown at the doctor before continuing, "...but when he is we got a road trip to K'un-Lun, and then we're home bound! Yay!" They pause, seemingly remembering something. "Weren't the Avengers looking for Loki? Should someone tell them we have him, and he's not committing war crimes like they thought he would? I'd hate to waste their time."

Side eyeing Loki for the attitude, Strange sits up more, an attempt to look more composed that is convincing to those who don't know him well. "I am fine. Creating portals between realms like Muspelheim is not a task I regularly perform, and for good reason: it is rather strenuous." He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief to rid it of the worst of the sweat that built up.

When Ceres poses the question of telling the Avengers, Spider-Man tilts his head. He can't believe he's agreeing with Loki here, but the Avengers were told that this Loki wasn't a threat and ignored that, so... "They've wasted their time in worse ways. It's not like they listened the first time anyway," he adds. It isn't the team player move that would increase his rapport with Earth's mightiest heroes, but he was taught by Nicholas 'tell them only what is necessary' Fury first.

"So, how about that water, huh?" Spider-Man questions rather than linger. He marches off towards where he knows the kitchen to be, pausing just before the hall. He should probably delegate the role of making sure no one dies before he leaves, even if it's only for a few seconds. Murderous, about to be murdered, exhausted, exhausted but recovering faster. "You–" He points to Loki. "–Make sure no one dies. Please? And Capey, come help me with the water." Capey floats off of Strange's shoulders, slipping towards Spider-Man, but momentarily darting back to pat Strange on the head in some sort of apology.

Ceres can't argue with that. Not their fault the Avengers don't know how to listen.

Loki jumps a little at the sudden attention on him. He only sighs and solemnly nods when he realizes the task he's been assigned. "I will do my best." He looks around at the group; Crazed scientist, annoying sorcerer, teen with a knack for getting themself in trouble, and him. Not the worst he's worked with, somehow. He can keep them alive for a few moments while Spider-Man leaves.

Ock is not happy. She was forced into enemy territory. She knew Ceres was going to go on some heroic spiel about how she needed to return home with them and blah blah blah. She was not going to return. She was also not happy with being marched into an enemy's home, surrounded by unfamiliar sciences. She hates not knowing. She also hates this stupid truce, because the idea of pretending to be Ceres's equal is humiliating.

And now Ceres has humiliated her again by telling her to "hush." She knows attacking is a bad idea. She is outnumbered (another thing she hates.) Strange has magic and so does Loki and both spiders have considerable strength that she can take on individually but not together.

But Strange is exhausted and Loki is too and Ceres is injured. Spider-Man is gone and so is the cape and even if she cannot win she can at least prove she is better. That's what she tells herself, anyways. She really just wants a fight.

Ceres's shouts can be heard before Spider-Man even enters the room. When he does enter, Ock has Ceres pinned against the floor with a tentacle, Loki is shouting something while summoning what little magic he can muster, Ceres is shouting about their truce and telling Ock to let go, and Strange is watching in bewilderment.

It's not until Ock sees Spider-Man that she lets go. The odds are against her again; she cannot win if he is here. Loki and Strange can't fight well and Ceres won't kill her but she still isn't sure about the other Spider. "Should've stabbed you quicker," she hisses under her breath, glaring daggers at Ceres. She could have done it and ran and been done with this.

"Was my Ock this murder-y? With the whole dissecting thing, maybe" he mutters into his hand, looking up at the high ceiling. His Ock has backstabbed many times during their so-called truces, but he can't recall one while in such a disadvantageous position. He doesn't pay any mind to the expression Strange has; he must have overheard, but it's not like Spider-Man could be bothered to figure out if it's confusion or concern on his face.

He nods as Ceres asks for a water, taking one from Capey and handing it to them. "I've also got bandages," he says, not intending to leave much of a choice in whether or not they are taken. Burns aren't his strong suit when it comes to treating them—most of his solutions are to merely slap a bandage on it anyway—but hopefully Ceres or Loki know how. Strange probably would know, but his hands don't seem to be very steady at the moment. Capey lays out the rest of the water bottles and the roll of bandages out on an end table before returning to Strange, dropping one of the bottles into his lap.

"As for you." Spider-Man looks towards Ock, not bothering to put on a show of disappointment. He knows his opinion doesn't matter to her. Though he does appreciate that she at least stopped trying to kill Ceres once he walked in, even if it wasn't because of anything besides realizing the odds are against her. "We had a deal. You don't do that–" He waves his hand around to gesture to the scene that just occurred. "–And you'd get to stay in my universe while we figure out the whole Norma thing. I'm already going to have to fight thirty different people to keep you out of a cell during your stay, never mind how many I'll have to fight to keep you in this universe, so don't make it harder for me by trying to kill people, no matter how much they snub or mock you." He would stand up for Ock against all those people, but when it comes to her realizing that, he might just be talking to a wall, so he adds on one more thing. "You're smart. That much is obvious. Don't throw it all away with a stupid decision." He's still unfamiliar with how exactly this Ock works, but intellect matters a lot to his Ock, so he may as well try to feed into her ego that way.

"And we'll try to avoid antagonizing each other too much." He looks over his shoulder at Ceres. He's guilty of doing the same with his Ock, so he can't blame them, not when their Ock was also chiming in with similar comments and starting things, but rising to the challenge given by someone operating on a hairpin trigger doesn't help. As fun as it can be when there's no injury impeding one's ability to move.

If it comes down to it, she's not sure whether she'd pick her own freedom or Ceres's death. Freedom runs the risk of recapture. Ceres's death runs the risk of her own. For now, though, the possibility of both was still on the table. She just needed to play her cards right.

Ceres looks away as they're chastised. That was fair; they really weren't helping the already tense relations here. They're not going to promise it won't happen again, but they'll at least think about it before they do anything stupid, a step above their usual "act fast, think of consequences later" attitude. They sit up, cracking open the bottle they were handed and taking a long sip.

Loki takes the bandages and tosses them to Ceres before he takes a seat on the floor as well, slowly sipping at his own water. He hates to admit it, but the heat did get to him. He's far from full strength. At least he didn't have to push his already sparse seiðr reserves to keep Ock from murdering Ceres. He'd done a relatively alright job keeping the teen from dying so far; it'd be a shame to have all that hard work thrown away because he didn't have enough magic in him to stop their murder.

Ceres removes their boot and looks over the damage to their leg. It wasn't as bad as they first thought -- their boots took the brunt of the damage, partially burnt away from the heat. The ankle itself is red and blistered, on the worse side of a second degree burn, but their healing factor is already taking care of it. They wrap it loosely.

Opening his water bottle, he rolls his mask above his nose before taking a sip. He takes a peek as Ceres wraps their ankle, not completely satisfied with the dressing, but he understands why it was done so. He drums his fingers against his water bottle, looking away. As Ceres complains about their boot, he nods. Costume damage always sucks, but better the suit than them.

I could ask Danny for a ride to K'un-Lun. He rules the place, after all, has a jet, and it would be cheaper and quicker than a commercial flight. It would just be a matter of avoiding the Avengers' efforts to catch Loki under their assumptions that he's the same as their Loki. Smuggling a god out of New York in a private jet. No biggie. Maybe a S.H.I.E.L.D. jet would be better. Fury is used to me "borrowing" anyway. Facing Fury's wrath is more appealing than possibly dealing with angry and unreasonable Avengers, and risking Danny's identity. Of course Rand would have to go on the side of the jet, or at least it was from what Spider-Man remembers.

Airlines are immediately out of the option anyway. Loki is well-known enough that getting on a flight would be impossible, and that's without considering what reaction Ock would garner with her charming fishiness. So, S.H.I.E.L.D. jet it is.

Ceres takes another sip of their water, glancing between the two. They're pretty sure they already know the answer; S.H.I.E.L.D. would never willingly transport Loki to anywhere but a jail cell. That's not even mentioning the bad taste Ock would probably put in their mouths. "Don't they fly around in a giant airship thingy? Gonna be hard to sneak in."

Loki hums. "I think I could conjure up a few cloaking spells. It's a little harder to work them around technology than magic, but given enough time..." He taps his chin as he thinks. He could manage to mask the four for a brief period once he recovered a bit more strength. Once they're on, it's a matter of avoiding the agents on board.

Ceres grins. "Sounds like a plan." Half a plan, really, but better than what they usually work with. "Dibs on flying the jet out!" Flying a jet is probably just like flying a spaceship, right? They have plenty of experience in that, and they kind of miss flying around fast. "Think I could do a barrel roll?"

He holds a hand over his mouth as he thinks. "There's S.H.I.E.L.D. tunnels at my old high school from when me and my team used to go there. They would hook up to the Helicarrier when it was under water, would probably do the same with the Tricarrier. We're only five, right?" He looks over everyone here, counting heads. Himself, Ceres, Loki, Ock, Strange (and Capey). That's five, thankfully. One more and seating would get awkward.

"So, check with Coulson if the tunnels still work, get to Midtown, get onto the Tricarrier, grab a jet, and fly out before the Tricarrier has fully breached that water and it's safe for other jets to pursue," Spider-Man says simply, though it won't be that simple because when is it ever? "Uh, actually, how likely is everyone to kill me if I suggest we take the sewers to get to Midtown to avoid all of New York from seeing us march into a school?" He knows going through the sewers is far from a fan favorite—not like he enjoys the smell either—but after dealing with the Lizard, he's found them to be a decent way to avoid prying eyes, and it keeps potential dangers out of the streets (Ock, cough cough).

Strange's eyes narrow. Hoofing it in the sewers is the opposite of appealing to the normal person. Strange, who has managed to avoid the messier aspects of working with Spider-Man thus far, is likely much less pleased. "Spider-Man, that is–"

Ceres makes a face. They've been to planets that smell like nothing but sulfer and rotten eggs, and it sucks, but they can do it if they have to. "If it keeps us from getting swarmed by the guys with the guns, I'm down." They don't really wanna get in a fight with The Avengers, or SHIELD, or whoever else. For one, they would have to restrain themself more than normal, because they don't want to seriously hurt the good guys. For two, they don't trust Ock not to kill anyone. For three, they don't exactly trust Loki not to pull a violent stunt either. Not that he'd kill anyone (not while they're watching, at least, but that's a different conversation,) but he'd feel a lot less worse about injuring people who were just doing their job. Especially if the Thor of this dimension was involved in the fight. They can tell that if there weren't consequences for punching his Thor in the face, he would've already. Punching a Thor that he'll never have to see again? Loki wouldn't think twice. They can handle a smelly trip to avoid bloodshed.

Loki nods. "If we must." He mentally goes through a catalog of spells he knows -- can he restrict his sense of smell? He can definitely make a small shield of sort around his boots to avoid stepping in anything... unsavory. Strange doesn't seem all that thrilled to go into the sewer, which is all the more reason to go.

He prepares to call Coulson on his wrist communicator, but pauses. The thing is basically permanently on speaker, and he still isn't sure how exactly the camera works for his communicator, so catching either Loki or Ock in frame would be less than ideal. He would step out if it weren't for the previous experience of Ock trying to kill Ceres the second he did. She likely wouldn't try again, but call him cautious.

So, instead he jumps up to the ceiling. He hates the ceiling in the Sanctum Sanctorum because Strange's idea of decor is tiled ceilings, intricately engraved with eyes that protrude and actually open. He avoids stepping on the eyes, obviously, as he stands upside down on the ceiling.

There. He's still in the room but there's no way anyone else will be in frame. Everyone will likely still hear the conversation, but that isn't something he's too worried about. It just means he won't have to repeat himself. He calls Coulson.

"Spider-Man," greets just about the most boring voice one can imagine. Most would not imagine the owner of the voice to be one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest ranking agents, or maybe you would if S.H.I.E.L.D. comes off that boring.

"Coulson, do the tunnels at Midtown to the Tricarrier still work?" Spider-Man can tell immediately that his question has him surprised, but it's not like anyone knows of his little mission to harbor Loki and Ock away from the Avengers.

"They should. Why? Can you not get onto the Tricarrier your usual way?" Being firing a web while it's up in the sky and hauling himself up. "Can the alternate spider you're with not reach it with their webs?" Coulson continues, clearly aware of the story he gave the Avengers; he's showing Ceres around New York while the 'adults' look for Loki and Ock.

"What? Who told you?" It does save him from having to repeat his lie, but getting snitched on to Coulson of all people, that bugs him. No pun intended.

"Black Widow. It's important to know the whereabouts of beings from other universes... or if someone responsible is watching them."

Unlikely. He is stronger. He will kill you. Foolish thought.

Ceres shoots Spidey a thumbs up and a grin. They can't say they haven't pulled similar schemes to get out of calls or keep cover; it's crazy how much pretending to make people inflate your ego make them not want to talk to you.

"Can't believe Widow's a nark. Well-- I can, actually. But still." They awkwardly cough and clear their throat. "Alright, gang, let's get this show on the road!" They stand, testing the weight on their ankle. It barely hurts, so they'll probably be fine. They look to the two resident magic users.

"You two good?" They were the only others affected by the fight in Muspelheim, after all. Not everyone had a healing factor.

Loki nods and downs the rest of his water before standing. "I am ready. Let's get this over with, shall we?" He brushes past the others, knowing that he can make it outside the labyrinth of a house without help from Strange. He's starting to feel a little stuffy with all the people in the room. "Meet you all outside, assuming the good doctor needs another moment. I know magic takes more out of ameatur sorcerers." As he walks, his jacket shortens. He can do the walk, but he'd rather not have to clean stains out of his clothes. Gross.

Ceres watches him walk out with a mildly annoyed look. They were doing a okay-ish job olaying nice with Ock; why couldn't he at least try?

"I will be fine." Strange says, giving Ceres a grateful nod as he pushes himself up. He looks to Spider-Man with the patience of a saint—honestly, the man has put up with his nonsense more than most other adult heroes, so the fact he hasn't been smote by the icy tendrils of ikthalon is quite the feat—and a raised eyebrow. "Why would the Eye of Agamotto grant you 'grape-scented' webs?"

"Because they were purple, so I'm pretty sure they smelled like grapes," Spider-Man reasons as he begins to trail after Loki, slow enough that he can make sure Strange is genuinely fine and not acting tough. Whether the wizard will be going around with a spring in his step is to be debated, but he's walking well enough.

"I believe that is what you call a placebo effect."

Ock stares, deadpan. "I do not know what a grape is, Spider. My planet does not have the same food as yours."

Ceres blinks. "We gotta get you some grapes," they decide, exiting the Sanctum Sanctorum. Ock mumbles something under her breath, no doubt an insult.

Loki is already outside when they get there. He's leaned against a wall, watching the crowd move outside. He gives the group a short glance as they exit; he doesn't say much, but he doesn't look particularly excited.

If Ock is going to stay in his universe, she's definitely getting asked about that. Science, biology, stuff to bond over. They'll absolutely be besties in no time.

He looks over to Ceres as they talk about high school, or lack thereof. "That really depends on the movie—it definitely wasn't like Mean Girls—and who you ask. I mean, if you ask me, I'm pretty sure I got bullied by a guy who took notes from movies from the 80s," he stage whispers, even though Flash is not around to hear it. "I don't think I got the normal high school experience anyway between who I was friends with and the whole superhero thing." He pulls at the chest of his suit. "Most of the time it was chill, though, if you knew what you were learning."

He pauses at the edge of the property of the Sanctum Sanctorum, checking for witnesses outside of the illusion barrier before moving towards the nearest manhole cover and lifting it with his webs. "Just don't get in the water. It's not the stinkiest place in New York, but, y'know, stay on the side walkways." He wishes it were merely a sewer for storm runoff, but older parts of the city, so older sewage systems. At least he knows how to get just about anywhere through the sewers thanks to all of his time spent trying to track down the Lizard.

So long as no one murders each other, he can handle some sour moods. If it weren't for how often he's fallen into gross things, he would be bothered too. For the sake of everyone's safety, he'll try to lead them to Midtown High quickly. They could probably make it in 15 minutes if everyone kept up the pace.

Ceres is the first to go down after Strange, placing their hands and feet on either side of the ladder and sliding down. Their face wrinkles when they reach the bottom. Not the smelliest they've dealt with (they've been on a handful of sulfer-filled planets,) but still far from pleasant. They move to stand next to Strange as the next person descends.

Neither Loki nor Ock moves first. They both look at each other, Loki with annoyance and Ock with disdain. "I will be last, thank you. I do not trust any of you not to stab me the moment my back is turned," Ock hisses.

Loki opens his mouth to retort, but seems to think better of himself. The faster he gets this done, the faster he gets to go home and get off Midgard. He sighs heavily. "As long as you agree not to make any attempts on my life, doctor." He leaps down, stopping just an inch above the floor. He hates this, very much so, but he does take mild pleasure in watching Strange's face morph into one of disgust.

"What? Me too?" That is what last means, he knows, but being just a little difficult is in his nature. "What would I even stab you with?" He displays his empty hands. "This suit doesn't come with pockets."

With a sigh, he complies, beginning down the ladder. "Fine! But if you don't come down after me, you bet your helmet you'll be coming down here in a web cocoon. His hand raises out of the manhole to point threateningly at Ock, likely losing some of its power as his stern expression is lost due to the fact he's going down a ladder.

Once he reaches the bottom, Spider-Man turns and does a quick headcount, not that he has to worry since they're already in here with him. "You're good to come down, Ock!" His voice echoes off of the round walls, mixing with the quiet lap of water. He listens as best he can for footsteps running away from the manhole.

Ceres pulls their mask a little lower over their face, though it's unfortunately too short to pull over their nose. Stupid younger them wanting to show off their stupid fangs.

They glances at the light from Spidey's chest; they don't wanna be mean, but it's kinda dim. Probably not enough to lead 5 people (6, counting the cape) through the sewers without at least one tripping.

(That is a funny thought, though. They kinda hope it's Ock.)

He shakes his head. No time for that now. They're at the third base, or third plate, or whatever, near the finish line. Noticing the glow of the magic, he gives Loki a nod of thanks. "Let's get out of here."

He doesn't turn off his own poor 'flashlight', any light is good light, and he doesn't want to search for the button again. Taking the lead, Spider-Man sets off down the sewer tunnel, peering down each fork in the sewer and counting over the sets of footsteps behind him. With the echoes and the fact that a third, counting Capey, are floating, footsteps isn't the best method to make sure everyone is here, but he's mostly worried about Ock and Strange because one may run away and the other's footsteps are dragging.

Strange's face is stony, the usual for the sorcerer, his eyes set forward as if he can see despite the darkness looming outside of Loki's magic and strands of his own hair hanging in his face. He's keeping up fine enough, even if his boots are not clicking against the stone path, instead scraping quietly, definitely mucking up the bright yellow color. Strange has had better days, but he has definitely looked worse than the tired expression he has now.

They don't really know Strange well enough to know his baseline, but they're pretty sure it's usually better than this. They feel a little bad for making him hold the portal open so long; it clearly took more out of him than they thought it would.

Maybe they were just used to Loki's level of stamina. He was an Asgardian (kind of? Jotuun by birth, but he stayed shifted into an Asgardian form) and thus already had a bit of an advantage endurance-wise, and had Strange beat in the magic game by a few centuries. Maybe most people would get super tired after magic usage.

When they're not making sure Strange isnt going to pass out they watch Ock. She clearly does not like having Ceres follow behind her, and keeps shooting the spider glares sharp enough to cut. She does this again and Ceres sticks out their tongue, earning a low grumble from the scientist.

"Should?" Strange echoes, clearly eager to get out of the sewer tunnel.

"Yes, should, because the conclusive data–" He gestures to the manhole cover and presumably outside of it. "–hasn't been observed yet. It's a hypothesis."

"You said you knew where to go." At this point, Strange is just making it difficult for the sake of it, at least, that's what Spider-Man is assuming because it's a nicer thing to believe than the idea that Strange still thinks he's incompetent after all of their missions together. He's just being grouchy.

"Duh, but you don't say something is absolute until you can prove it. That's basic science. I thought you were a doctor." He sighs dramatically, "And here I was trying to bond." He climbs up the ladder the rest of the way, pushing open the manhole cover—only gritting his teeth a little at the scrape of metal on asphalt—and poking his head out. "Here we are. See? Told you!" He crawls fully out, checking his surroundings before sticking his head back in. "You're good to come up. One at a time, please." That probably didn't need stating, but he's had moments where his teammates all tried to go through a door at once.

Ock doesn't hesitate to take up Spider-Man's offer; she's out within seconds, cursing about the cramped space they entire way up. Ceres tilts their head as she leaves and follows quickly after; they still dont trust her not to bolt.

In the sewer, Strange gives Loki a dark glower, clicking his tongue, "Tch, then I suppose it is a good thing I do not concern myself with such things as vanity." He completely ignores the implications of looking terrible, focusing on the appearance aspect instead before he pushes himself up the ladder, mostly using Capey to float up rather than touch the rungs with his hands.

Once everyone is back in the light of day, Spider-Man toes the manhole cover back into place. He gestures for everyone to follow and leads them to the high school's iron gates. "Just to be very clear, I don't go here anymore, so if you're going to try and kill me, don't waste your time here," he announces, kind of useless considering roughly half of the group is going back to their own universe, and hopefully the rest don't try and kill him. But it's better to be safe than sorry. No way is anyone going to get hurt because of him. The front yard of the school is decorated with sparse trees and a bench that seems to be more graffiti than wood at this point.

Through the glass doors are beige walls and multi-colored tile floors in a pattern that is slightly off-center. There's a trophy case and a few student artworks high on the walls, and the echo of the whistled tune from the janitor.

"Killing you here would be a disservice to those actually trying to learn," Ock responds dryly. "I would wait until school was out."

The group trails behind Spider-Man, following as he leads them in. Ceres runs a hand along the wall as they walk, taking in the vibes of the place. It really isnt all that much different from the movies, appearance wise. If anything, it looks less exciting. They can't imagine they missed much by skipping out on the school thing entirely.

They perk a little at the sound of whistling. Their group is a little big, and they aren't sure how stealthy Ock can be (not that Ceres themself is awfully sneaky.) They think about bringing it up, but Spidey has the same super senses they do, and he's not commenting on it. It's... probably fine.

"Rodger," they hum as Spidey explains the plan. "Ock can run fast. Right, Ock?"

Spider-Man nods as Ceres confirms what he hopes is actually true. So long as everyone can keep up they will be fine. He turns into one of the classrooms, letting everyone in before shutting the door. "Take a seat in any chair, no feet on the tables."

Ock, of course, starts cursing out everyone involved, both in English and in her native tongue. "WE AGREED ON A TRUCE, YOU BACKSTABBING LYING--" Ceres still has that translator in their neck and decides it might be best the others (excluding loki) can't understand the names she's calling them all. They're not very flattering.

Loki, much like Strange, swears as he hits a bend and screams something about a warning being appreciated.

When they are finally dropped at their destination, Ceres is the only of the three to land on their feet. They watch as Loki stands, brushing his pants legs off and mumbling something about undignified travel methods.

Upon seeing Ceres stick the landing, Spider-Man cheers, "Hey! Look at that! I wasn't able to do tha– uh-oh." He leaps to the ceiling after spotting the murderous intent in Ock's eyes. "Can I just mention that killing me now would be a really bad idea?" he utters quickly. "I mean, between 50 feet of water and– nevermind."

Being antagonistic won't help. Unfortunately for his sharp tongue, he has to be the mature one. "We can deal with the issues you have with me after we all get out of the enclosed space with armed agents at every corner."

He cautiously lowers himself from the ceiling. "And that's not an invitation to attack me on the jet either," he adds, forcing his posture to relax. He has no reason to try and make himself look bigger. "Let's get going. I don't want to know how many people heard all of that." He peeks out of the doorway. Not to mention whoever monitors the entrances from the school counted three extra arrivals than the two Coulson probably allowed. Things are going to get busy fast.

Tony was in his lab, music on full blast. Usually he blasted old rock hits, but a song he hadn't heard since his college days, one that Rhodey had put him onto, came on. Work was abandoned and Tony had started to dance like no one was watching. No one could resist this song.

' The last time we had a party

It ended when the sun came out

That's why your mama told you that you couldn't go out

Stay in the house

Bad boy '

Tony glided against the floor as if he was Fred Astaire. He never told anyone that before he was shipped off, he actually wanted to go to Juilliard, but his father didn't permit it, despite his mother letting him take dance classes in his early teens to 'get him away from science for a bit'

Tony continued to dance and spin to the song, as if he was rehearsing a choreographed performance, unaware that eyes were watching him from the doorway.

Honestly, he was not sure what to do now. Back up and never speak of this again? Tease the man? Compliment him? After all, Tony definitely had a better rhythm than him, and knew how to dance.

Which went... fine. Minimal getting shot at by Zodiac guys, but SOMEONE (Nova) totaled our ride and went back to space, so now I'm stuck with the paperwork.

How many forms do I have to fill out for one S.H.I.E.L.D. jet? More than you think

And me, love paperwork? Maybe in Coulson's dreams!

The Avengers' common room is about as loud as it usually gets. Tony and Steve are bickering or joking—who knows with those two?—there's coffee being made a few feet away in the kitchen. It's a calm chatter, which is odd since Spider-Man is visiting. He's sat on the arm of the couch, staring between Tony and Steve like he's listening to their argument, but the lack of interruptions suggests he has barely heard a word of it. At first, he did seem to at least put in the effort to switch his focus to whoever was speaking, but right now, the spot between the two appears to be far more interesting to Spider-Man.

The usually restless hero hadn't even moved, not until Clint accidentally set down the coffee mugs he grabbed from the cabinet too hard, then, Spider-Man's head snapped towards the noise like it was about to attack him, lenses wide as he stares for a moment. However, a jaunty remark from Tony grabs his attention back to the argument/conversation, and he rests his chin in his hand, not matching that remark with any sort of joke of his own.

As Ceres explains, Spider-Man leans back, glancing back at Ock. "You can call him Capey," he mutters, gesturing to the cape.

"Do not. Spider-Man–" Strange begins to protest, giving Spider-Man a harsh look that is obviously ineffective since he immediately retorts.

"Why? Do you have a name for your swickityawetastic cape?"

That makes Strange pause, not to think about a name for his cape, no, but likely to question Spider-Man's sanity—even though this behaviour should not be a surprise. "Are you making up spells again?" he demands, almost hopeful that that is the answer.

"No. Does it look like it's Halloween to you?" And there were numerous other factors that allowed him to imagine a spell. "Come on, swickityawetastic? I said that so many episodes ago. You need to catch up, man," Spider-Man complains. "Capey gets it." To which the cape in question perks up at the collar proudly.

Ock glances at Spider-Man and mumbles, "You can call it Capey. I will not risk annoying a man with such power. I value my life."

Ceres gives Ock a thumbs down. "Lameee," they reply. "Strange is a good guy, which means he usually doesn't kill people for the crime of being annoying. Unlike some people I know. Besides, Capey likes the name." Ock grumbles but does not grace Ceres with a response.

Strange doesn't turn around to look at the group as he listens, staring up through the stained glass window hanging above the grand staircase taking up the back of the room. "Not alone. I am well-versed in time and its passages. However, to travel across dimensions, to one specific universe would be, as you say, 'like finding a needle in a haystack'," Strange explains, his words slightly stilted as he utters the metaphor. Spider-Man doesn't get why exactly; the man has been on Earth for most of his life. But then again he also wanted to study Halloween, so who knows what is up with that.

Ock makes a face at the question, as if she thinks Spidey is stupid for even asking. "We come from a spacefaring universe, spider. I have traveled the cosmos. Ceres lives in a spaceship." She looks mildly disgusted as she adds, "I have been on it. It is filthy."

Strange looks contemplative. "This 'roadtrip' is not to sightsee or play around. Snacks are unnecessary. We are merely there to create a means for you all to return home," he reminds.

Ceres nods, a little greatful Spider-Man bailed them out of getting a lecture. They'd had enough magic related lectures from Loki growing up. (Mostly some variation of "No, Ceres, I cannot fix that with magic. No, I am not saying that because I don't want to. If I attempted such a feat you would most likely die. No, I will not attempt it anyways.")

"Alright!" They say, clapping their hands together. "So, step one, tracking Loki. If it makes it any easier, she has at least a couple of wards on me. Mostly stuff to manage my chronic illness. Might help you get a frame of reference for what kind of magic youre looking for." They really didn't have any idea how magic worked, but they figure extra info is better than not enough. "Step two is contacting Madame Web and getting us a way home?"

"She's... uh, I don't exactly know. She's a pal of Nick's– er, Fury, for sure. Got some kind of see-the-future power, just without the crystal ball, and some sort of connection with the web of reality or something." Madame Web is a bit of a recluse—no pun intended—so that along with Fury's penchant for secrets makes the information Spider-Man has on her not-so substantial. "But I do know she and Strange can make a portal to other realities together. And that she's a friend."

Ceres stands on their tip toes, trying to see over the edge of the book and onto it's pages without getting close enough to go into a coughing fit from the dust. It's probably in some language they don't know, but they're naturally curious.

Strange looks up from the book, unamused with the chiding, but he flicks his wrist, a purple wisp of magic leaving his hand and carrying the dust along with it out of the room. "They are not dust bears," he mutters defensively, sticking his nose back in the book. Spider-Man crosses his arms, glancing over to Ceres with a theatrical disbelieving expression.

They look mildly confused as the wrong Loki shoes up -- hair too short, scar on the nose missing, too much armor -- but they light up again as their Loki forms from the liquid. "That's him!" They exclaim. "That's-- Where is that?" It's clearly not New York.

Ock, from a distance, also watches. Her head tilts as she takes in the moving liquid; there is not anything similar to such magic on her planet. A part of her wants to study it, to wield it. A part of her fears it. She remains where she is, several feet away.

"Muspelheim," Strange recognizes. "Certainly no vacation."

"And we can't just 'whappam'–" Spider-Man makes a gesture nothing akin to how magic is generally used. "–portal Loki here?" His tone is doubtful. It's never that easy.

"I would do just fine," Ock interrupts. "Though I would prefer not to. You two can suffer on your own." She will not willingly admit that she would absolutely die in such a place; her species comes from deep water, adapted for near freezing tempatures. No species from her planet has the thermoregulation earthlings seem to possess, as the little strip of Altera capable of hosting life rarely changed temperatures outside a certain range. Her suit could only do so much to maintain her body's ideal temperatures.

Ceres shrugs. Ock is clearly lying, but they can't say they'll miss her. "Fine by me." They glance at Spidey. "It's hot as hell in there. Literally, it's practically hell." They've only been once, for a brief moment, but it was rough. Hopefully the mission won't take too long. They can't imagine how a frost giant like Loki is doing there.

Ceres removes the upper part of their costume, leaving them in something akin to a jumpsuit. They then tie the upper part around their waist. Less layers are always good when its that hot.

And from the sounds of it, he'd rather not go to a fiery realm with a variant of Ock who is only peaceful thanks to a flimsy and strained agreement. He can learn more about the fish lady possibly staying in his universe when he's not going to get roasted alive.

"Perhaps once you're back," Strange offers. "I'd presume you'd like your hands free in the face of the creatures from Muspelheim."

"Ready as I'll ever be. Not like I can shed any layers," Spider-Man agrees, only sounding mildly jealous of Ceres' suit. Yes, he designed his own suit, so it's only himself he has to blame, but that was before he had to deal with the heats not native to New York. By now, he has a brand that almost all of his team has copied.

Strange nods before twisting his hands around in the air, focused and controlled. The Eye of Agamotto opens, emitting a purple glow, and a beat later a portal opens to Muspelheim. Strange drops his hands, a few beads of sweat collecting at his temple, seemingly not from the heat slowly creeping into the room from the portal.

"We'll just give you a shout when we need to leave?" Spider-Man checks, already walking towards the portal like he knows the schedule by now.

"Yes, I suppose that will suffice," Strange confirms, rubbing his forehead.

"Alright. See you soon, Doc...sss, both of you." Spider-Man gives a two-finger salute before stepping through the portal. "Man, I know too many doctors."

The world around them is made of pale orange rock with many jagged edges. Volcanos and rivers of lava can be seen in the distance, and there is, of course, various patches of fire around. Ceres's nose scrunches at the smell of smoke.

"I've only been to the Muspelheim in my dimension once," Ceres says, "and it was only for a little bit, so I'm not fully sure what we're getting into here. I know there's fire demons here, and Sutur might be around somewhere. Just be on the lookout." They never actually had to fight him, but they heard stories. They hope the two avoid the giant entirely.

Ceres keeps an eye out for any green among the reds and oranges of the realm. Loki can't be far; they consider asking to split up, but decide if they do get attacked it'll be better to stick together. They go silent as they scan the horizon for their lost friend.

"Not like that! I prefer my dudes looking smoking hot, dare I say smouldering, but burning? No way," he corrects, mostly talking at the fire monster whirling around to smash his sword in his general direction rather than actually discussing his preferences in people with it. He ducks to the side, circling back around to Ceres. "Sorry, I think my brain is melting. This line of jokes is like the opposite of cool," he says as an aside to them, only partially aware of the hot pun that the 'opposite of cool' is, before calling out at the creature. "Almost as uncool as your sword technique! I haven't ever used one and I know it doesn't work like a club!"

They step back to give him space to swing the rock at the fire creature, letting out a shout of celebration as the rock collides. Their excitement is quickly wiped away as the creature still stands. "I think fire also beats rock," they quip. "But, hear me out--" they follow Spidey's attempt and use their webs to send another rock flying. "--two rocks."

The creature does not fall for this a second time, and dodges easily. Ceres blinks. "Welp, I'm out of ideas."

The creature charges them, and Ceres yelps as they dodge to the side; they attack from the back, landing a hard punch that sends the creature to the ground. They hiss as they wave their hand frantically. "Ow ow ow, that burns, ow."

While they're distracted, the creature grabs them by the ankle, sending them to the ground as well. They cry out and use their other foot to try and kick the creature away, to no avail.

Before anything else can be done, a green blast of energy slams into the creature. There is a hissing, and then silence.

As Ceres is dragged by the ankle, Spider-Man's mask lenses widen. He steps forward, but stops in his tracks as the fiery creature is struck with some sort of bright green light.

He flinches harder than he'd like to admit. But in his defense, usually sudden bright flashes are being shot at him, not his adversaries. He cracks open his eyes, peeking at the worse for wear Loki, and drops his arms from where they were shielding his face.

The teen takes his hand, allowing themself to be pulled up. They cringe slightly as the burn on their leg protests the sudden weight put on it, but they take great care not to react otherwise.

Ceres looks to Loki. "You alive?" They mean it as a joke, but Loki really doesn't look all that great. They're pretty sure he's on the verge of a heatstroke, between the unfocused look in his eyes and lack of comments thud far. Normally he would have made at least one remark about their terrible midbattle jokes after the fact. His skin isn't blue yet, though, a good sign.

Stop! Focus! Feel guilty later. Spider-Man has to shake off that withering feeling. "That's fine. I'm not planning to make a vacation home here or anything," he says, also looking to where the fire creature had disappeared.

Ock glances the group over. "You lived. How sad." Her gaze lingers on Ceres. "Though not without injury. Not all bad, then."

Ceres waltzes over and flicks Ock on the equivalent of her nose. "You're literally the worst. Hush." They turn to face the others, ignoring the murderous glare they're receiving. "So, I don't think Strange is looking up to travel right now. Are you good? You don't look good." They frown at the doctor before continuing, "...but when he is we got a road trip to K'un-Lun, and then we're home bound! Yay!" They pause, seemingly remembering something. "Weren't the Avengers looking for Loki? Should someone tell them we have him, and he's not committing war crimes like they thought he would? I'd hate to waste their time."

Side eyeing Loki for the attitude, Strange sits up more, an attempt to look more composed that is convincing to those who don't know him well. "I am fine. Creating portals between realms like Muspelheim is not a task I regularly perform, and for good reason: it is rather strenuous." He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief to rid it of the worst of the sweat that built up.

When Ceres poses the question of telling the Avengers, Spider-Man tilts his head. He can't believe he's agreeing with Loki here, but the Avengers were told that this Loki wasn't a threat and ignored that, so... "They've wasted their time in worse ways. It's not like they listened the first time anyway," he adds. It isn't the team player move that would increase his rapport with Earth's mightiest heroes, but he was taught by Nicholas 'tell them only what is necessary' Fury first.

"So, how about that water, huh?" Spider-Man questions rather than linger. He marches off towards where he knows the kitchen to be, pausing just before the hall. He should probably delegate the role of making sure no one dies before he leaves, even if it's only for a few seconds. Murderous, about to be murdered, exhausted, exhausted but recovering faster. "You–" He points to Loki. "–Make sure no one dies. Please? And Capey, come help me with the water." Capey floats off of Strange's shoulders, slipping towards Spider-Man, but momentarily darting back to pat Strange on the head in some sort of apology.

Ceres can't argue with that. Not their fault the Avengers don't know how to listen.

Loki jumps a little at the sudden attention on him. He only sighs and solemnly nods when he realizes the task he's been assigned. "I will do my best." He looks around at the group; Crazed scientist, annoying sorcerer, teen with a knack for getting themself in trouble, and him. Not the worst he's worked with, somehow. He can keep them alive for a few moments while Spider-Man leaves.

Ock is not happy. She was forced into enemy territory. She knew Ceres was going to go on some heroic spiel about how she needed to return home with them and blah blah blah. She was not going to return. She was also not happy with being marched into an enemy's home, surrounded by unfamiliar sciences. She hates not knowing. She also hates this stupid truce, because the idea of pretending to be Ceres's equal is humiliating.

And now Ceres has humiliated her again by telling her to "hush." She knows attacking is a bad idea. She is outnumbered (another thing she hates.) Strange has magic and so does Loki and both spiders have considerable strength that she can take on individually but not together.

But Strange is exhausted and Loki is too and Ceres is injured. Spider-Man is gone and so is the cape and even if she cannot win she can at least prove she is better. That's what she tells herself, anyways. She really just wants a fight.

Ceres's shouts can be heard before Spider-Man even enters the room. When he does enter, Ock has Ceres pinned against the floor with a tentacle, Loki is shouting something while summoning what little magic he can muster, Ceres is shouting about their truce and telling Ock to let go, and Strange is watching in bewilderment.

It's not until Ock sees Spider-Man that she lets go. The odds are against her again; she cannot win if he is here. Loki and Strange can't fight well and Ceres won't kill her but she still isn't sure about the other Spider. "Should've stabbed you quicker," she hisses under her breath, glaring daggers at Ceres. She could have done it and ran and been done with this.

"Was my Ock this murder-y? With the whole dissecting thing, maybe" he mutters into his hand, looking up at the high ceiling. His Ock has backstabbed many times during their so-called truces, but he can't recall one while in such a disadvantageous position. He doesn't pay any mind to the expression Strange has; he must have overheard, but it's not like Spider-Man could be bothered to figure out if it's confusion or concern on his face.

He nods as Ceres asks for a water, taking one from Capey and handing it to them. "I've also got bandages," he says, not intending to leave much of a choice in whether or not they are taken. Burns aren't his strong suit when it comes to treating them—most of his solutions are to merely slap a bandage on it anyway—but hopefully Ceres or Loki know how. Strange probably would know, but his hands don't seem to be very steady at the moment. Capey lays out the rest of the water bottles and the roll of bandages out on an end table before returning to Strange, dropping one of the bottles into his lap.

"As for you." Spider-Man looks towards Ock, not bothering to put on a show of disappointment. He knows his opinion doesn't matter to her. Though he does appreciate that she at least stopped trying to kill Ceres once he walked in, even if it wasn't because of anything besides realizing the odds are against her. "We had a deal. You don't do that–" He waves his hand around to gesture to the scene that just occurred. "–And you'd get to stay in my universe while we figure out the whole Norma thing. I'm already going to have to fight thirty different people to keep you out of a cell during your stay, never mind how many I'll have to fight to keep you in this universe, so don't make it harder for me by trying to kill people, no matter how much they snub or mock you." He would stand up for Ock against all those people, but when it comes to her realizing that, he might just be talking to a wall, so he adds on one more thing. "You're smart. That much is obvious. Don't throw it all away with a stupid decision." He's still unfamiliar with how exactly this Ock works, but intellect matters a lot to his Ock, so he may as well try to feed into her ego that way.

"And we'll try to avoid antagonizing each other too much." He looks over his shoulder at Ceres. He's guilty of doing the same with his Ock, so he can't blame them, not when their Ock was also chiming in with similar comments and starting things, but rising to the challenge given by someone operating on a hairpin trigger doesn't help. As fun as it can be when there's no injury impeding one's ability to move.

If it comes down to it, she's not sure whether she'd pick her own freedom or Ceres's death. Freedom runs the risk of recapture. Ceres's death runs the risk of her own. For now, though, the possibility of both was still on the table. She just needed to play her cards right.

Ceres looks away as they're chastised. That was fair; they really weren't helping the already tense relations here. They're not going to promise it won't happen again, but they'll at least think about it before they do anything stupid, a step above their usual "act fast, think of consequences later" attitude. They sit up, cracking open the bottle they were handed and taking a long sip.

Loki takes the bandages and tosses them to Ceres before he takes a seat on the floor as well, slowly sipping at his own water. He hates to admit it, but the heat did get to him. He's far from full strength. At least he didn't have to push his already sparse seiðr reserves to keep Ock from murdering Ceres. He'd done a relatively alright job keeping the teen from dying so far; it'd be a shame to have all that hard work thrown away because he didn't have enough magic in him to stop their murder.

Ceres removes their boot and looks over the damage to their leg. It wasn't as bad as they first thought -- their boots took the brunt of the damage, partially burnt away from the heat. The ankle itself is red and blistered, on the worse side of a second degree burn, but their healing factor is already taking care of it. They wrap it loosely.

Opening his water bottle, he rolls his mask above his nose before taking a sip. He takes a peek as Ceres wraps their ankle, not completely satisfied with the dressing, but he understands why it was done so. He drums his fingers against his water bottle, looking away. As Ceres complains about their boot, he nods. Costume damage always sucks, but better the suit than them.

I could ask Danny for a ride to K'un-Lun. He rules the place, after all, has a jet, and it would be cheaper and quicker than a commercial flight. It would just be a matter of avoiding the Avengers' efforts to catch Loki under their assumptions that he's the same as their Loki. Smuggling a god out of New York in a private jet. No biggie. Maybe a S.H.I.E.L.D. jet would be better. Fury is used to me "borrowing" anyway. Facing Fury's wrath is more appealing than possibly dealing with angry and unreasonable Avengers, and risking Danny's identity. Of course Rand would have to go on the side of the jet, or at least it was from what Spider-Man remembers.

Airlines are immediately out of the option anyway. Loki is well-known enough that getting on a flight would be impossible, and that's without considering what reaction Ock would garner with her charming fishiness. So, S.H.I.E.L.D. jet it is.

Ceres takes another sip of their water, glancing between the two. They're pretty sure they already know the answer; S.H.I.E.L.D. would never willingly transport Loki to anywhere but a jail cell. That's not even mentioning the bad taste Ock would probably put in their mouths. "Don't they fly around in a giant airship thingy? Gonna be hard to sneak in."

Loki hums. "I think I could conjure up a few cloaking spells. It's a little harder to work them around technology than magic, but given enough time..." He taps his chin as he thinks. He could manage to mask the four for a brief period once he recovered a bit more strength. Once they're on, it's a matter of avoiding the agents on board.

Ceres grins. "Sounds like a plan." Half a plan, really, but better than what they usually work with. "Dibs on flying the jet out!" Flying a jet is probably just like flying a spaceship, right? They have plenty of experience in that, and they kind of miss flying around fast. "Think I could do a barrel roll?"

He holds a hand over his mouth as he thinks. "There's S.H.I.E.L.D. tunnels at my old high school from when me and my team used to go there. They would hook up to the Helicarrier when it was under water, would probably do the same with the Tricarrier. We're only five, right?" He looks over everyone here, counting heads. Himself, Ceres, Loki, Ock, Strange (and Capey). That's five, thankfully. One more and seating would get awkward.

"So, check with Coulson if the tunnels still work, get to Midtown, get onto the Tricarrier, grab a jet, and fly out before the Tricarrier has fully breached that water and it's safe for other jets to pursue," Spider-Man says simply, though it won't be that simple because when is it ever? "Uh, actually, how likely is everyone to kill me if I suggest we take the sewers to get to Midtown to avoid all of New York from seeing us march into a school?" He knows going through the sewers is far from a fan favorite—not like he enjoys the smell either—but after dealing with the Lizard, he's found them to be a decent way to avoid prying eyes, and it keeps potential dangers out of the streets (Ock, cough cough).

Strange's eyes narrow. Hoofing it in the sewers is the opposite of appealing to the normal person. Strange, who has managed to avoid the messier aspects of working with Spider-Man thus far, is likely much less pleased. "Spider-Man, that is–"

Ceres makes a face. They've been to planets that smell like nothing but sulfer and rotten eggs, and it sucks, but they can do it if they have to. "If it keeps us from getting swarmed by the guys with the guns, I'm down." They don't really wanna get in a fight with The Avengers, or SHIELD, or whoever else. For one, they would have to restrain themself more than normal, because they don't want to seriously hurt the good guys. For two, they don't trust Ock not to kill anyone. For three, they don't exactly trust Loki not to pull a violent stunt either. Not that he'd kill anyone (not while they're watching, at least, but that's a different conversation,) but he'd feel a lot less worse about injuring people who were just doing their job. Especially if the Thor of this dimension was involved in the fight. They can tell that if there weren't consequences for punching his Thor in the face, he would've already. Punching a Thor that he'll never have to see again? Loki wouldn't think twice. They can handle a smelly trip to avoid bloodshed.

Loki nods. "If we must." He mentally goes through a catalog of spells he knows -- can he restrict his sense of smell? He can definitely make a small shield of sort around his boots to avoid stepping in anything... unsavory. Strange doesn't seem all that thrilled to go into the sewer, which is all the more reason to go.

He prepares to call Coulson on his wrist communicator, but pauses. The thing is basically permanently on speaker, and he still isn't sure how exactly the camera works for his communicator, so catching either Loki or Ock in frame would be less than ideal. He would step out if it weren't for the previous experience of Ock trying to kill Ceres the second he did. She likely wouldn't try again, but call him cautious.

So, instead he jumps up to the ceiling. He hates the ceiling in the Sanctum Sanctorum because Strange's idea of decor is tiled ceilings, intricately engraved with eyes that protrude and actually open. He avoids stepping on the eyes, obviously, as he stands upside down on the ceiling.

There. He's still in the room but there's no way anyone else will be in frame. Everyone will likely still hear the conversation, but that isn't something he's too worried about. It just means he won't have to repeat himself. He calls Coulson.

"Spider-Man," greets just about the most boring voice one can imagine. Most would not imagine the owner of the voice to be one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest ranking agents, or maybe you would if S.H.I.E.L.D. comes off that boring.

"Coulson, do the tunnels at Midtown to the Tricarrier still work?" Spider-Man can tell immediately that his question has him surprised, but it's not like anyone knows of his little mission to harbor Loki and Ock away from the Avengers.

"They should. Why? Can you not get onto the Tricarrier your usual way?" Being firing a web while it's up in the sky and hauling himself up. "Can the alternate spider you're with not reach it with their webs?" Coulson continues, clearly aware of the story he gave the Avengers; he's showing Ceres around New York while the 'adults' look for Loki and Ock.

"What? Who told you?" It does save him from having to repeat his lie, but getting snitched on to Coulson of all people, that bugs him. No pun intended.

"Black Widow. It's important to know the whereabouts of beings from other universes... or if someone responsible is watching them."

Unlikely. He is stronger. He will kill you. Foolish thought.

Ceres shoots Spidey a thumbs up and a grin. They can't say they haven't pulled similar schemes to get out of calls or keep cover; it's crazy how much pretending to make people inflate your ego make them not want to talk to you.

"Can't believe Widow's a nark. Well-- I can, actually. But still." They awkwardly cough and clear their throat. "Alright, gang, let's get this show on the road!" They stand, testing the weight on their ankle. It barely hurts, so they'll probably be fine. They look to the two resident magic users.

"You two good?" They were the only others affected by the fight in Muspelheim, after all. Not everyone had a healing factor.

Loki nods and downs the rest of his water before standing. "I am ready. Let's get this over with, shall we?" He brushes past the others, knowing that he can make it outside the labyrinth of a house without help from Strange. He's starting to feel a little stuffy with all the people in the room. "Meet you all outside, assuming the good doctor needs another moment. I know magic takes more out of ameatur sorcerers." As he walks, his jacket shortens. He can do the walk, but he'd rather not have to clean stains out of his clothes. Gross.

Ceres watches him walk out with a mildly annoyed look. They were doing a okay-ish job olaying nice with Ock; why couldn't he at least try?

"I will be fine." Strange says, giving Ceres a grateful nod as he pushes himself up. He looks to Spider-Man with the patience of a saint—honestly, the man has put up with his nonsense more than most other adult heroes, so the fact he hasn't been smote by the icy tendrils of ikthalon is quite the feat—and a raised eyebrow. "Why would the Eye of Agamotto grant you 'grape-scented' webs?"

"Because they were purple, so I'm pretty sure they smelled like grapes," Spider-Man reasons as he begins to trail after Loki, slow enough that he can make sure Strange is genuinely fine and not acting tough. Whether the wizard will be going around with a spring in his step is to be debated, but he's walking well enough.

"I believe that is what you call a placebo effect."

Ock stares, deadpan. "I do not know what a grape is, Spider. My planet does not have the same food as yours."

Ceres blinks. "We gotta get you some grapes," they decide, exiting the Sanctum Sanctorum. Ock mumbles something under her breath, no doubt an insult.

Loki is already outside when they get there. He's leaned against a wall, watching the crowd move outside. He gives the group a short glance as they exit; he doesn't say much, but he doesn't look particularly excited.

If Ock is going to stay in his universe, she's definitely getting asked about that. Science, biology, stuff to bond over. They'll absolutely be besties in no time.

He looks over to Ceres as they talk about high school, or lack thereof. "That really depends on the movie—it definitely wasn't like Mean Girls—and who you ask. I mean, if you ask me, I'm pretty sure I got bullied by a guy who took notes from movies from the 80s," he stage whispers, even though Flash is not around to hear it. "I don't think I got the normal high school experience anyway between who I was friends with and the whole superhero thing." He pulls at the chest of his suit. "Most of the time it was chill, though, if you knew what you were learning."

He pauses at the edge of the property of the Sanctum Sanctorum, checking for witnesses outside of the illusion barrier before moving towards the nearest manhole cover and lifting it with his webs. "Just don't get in the water. It's not the stinkiest place in New York, but, y'know, stay on the side walkways." He wishes it were merely a sewer for storm runoff, but older parts of the city, so older sewage systems. At least he knows how to get just about anywhere through the sewers thanks to all of his time spent trying to track down the Lizard.

So long as no one murders each other, he can handle some sour moods. If it weren't for how often he's fallen into gross things, he would be bothered too. For the sake of everyone's safety, he'll try to lead them to Midtown High quickly. They could probably make it in 15 minutes if everyone kept up the pace.

Ceres is the first to go down after Strange, placing their hands and feet on either side of the ladder and sliding down. Their face wrinkles when they reach the bottom. Not the smelliest they've dealt with (they've been on a handful of sulfer-filled planets,) but still far from pleasant. They move to stand next to Strange as the next person descends.

Neither Loki nor Ock moves first. They both look at each other, Loki with annoyance and Ock with disdain. "I will be last, thank you. I do not trust any of you not to stab me the moment my back is turned," Ock hisses.

Loki opens his mouth to retort, but seems to think better of himself. The faster he gets this done, the faster he gets to go home and get off Midgard. He sighs heavily. "As long as you agree not to make any attempts on my life, doctor." He leaps down, stopping just an inch above the floor. He hates this, very much so, but he does take mild pleasure in watching Strange's face morph into one of disgust.

"What? Me too?" That is what last means, he knows, but being just a little difficult is in his nature. "What would I even stab you with?" He displays his empty hands. "This suit doesn't come with pockets."

With a sigh, he complies, beginning down the ladder. "Fine! But if you don't come down after me, you bet your helmet you'll be coming down here in a web cocoon. His hand raises out of the manhole to point threateningly at Ock, likely losing some of its power as his stern expression is lost due to the fact he's going down a ladder.

Once he reaches the bottom, Spider-Man turns and does a quick headcount, not that he has to worry since they're already in here with him. "You're good to come down, Ock!" His voice echoes off of the round walls, mixing with the quiet lap of water. He listens as best he can for footsteps running away from the manhole.

Ceres pulls their mask a little lower over their face, though it's unfortunately too short to pull over their nose. Stupid younger them wanting to show off their stupid fangs.

They glances at the light from Spidey's chest; they don't wanna be mean, but it's kinda dim. Probably not enough to lead 5 people (6, counting the cape) through the sewers without at least one tripping.

(That is a funny thought, though. They kinda hope it's Ock.)

He shakes his head. No time for that now. They're at the third base, or third plate, or whatever, near the finish line. Noticing the glow of the magic, he gives Loki a nod of thanks. "Let's get out of here."

He doesn't turn off his own poor 'flashlight', any light is good light, and he doesn't want to search for the button again. Taking the lead, Spider-Man sets off down the sewer tunnel, peering down each fork in the sewer and counting over the sets of footsteps behind him. With the echoes and the fact that a third, counting Capey, are floating, footsteps isn't the best method to make sure everyone is here, but he's mostly worried about Ock and Strange because one may run away and the other's footsteps are dragging.

Strange's face is stony, the usual for the sorcerer, his eyes set forward as if he can see despite the darkness looming outside of Loki's magic and strands of his own hair hanging in his face. He's keeping up fine enough, even if his boots are not clicking against the stone path, instead scraping quietly, definitely mucking up the bright yellow color. Strange has had better days, but he has definitely looked worse than the tired expression he has now.

They don't really know Strange well enough to know his baseline, but they're pretty sure it's usually better than this. They feel a little bad for making him hold the portal open so long; it clearly took more out of him than they thought it would.

Maybe they were just used to Loki's level of stamina. He was an Asgardian (kind of? Jotuun by birth, but he stayed shifted into an Asgardian form) and thus already had a bit of an advantage endurance-wise, and had Strange beat in the magic game by a few centuries. Maybe most people would get super tired after magic usage.

When they're not making sure Strange isnt going to pass out they watch Ock. She clearly does not like having Ceres follow behind her, and keeps shooting the spider glares sharp enough to cut. She does this again and Ceres sticks out their tongue, earning a low grumble from the scientist.

"Should?" Strange echoes, clearly eager to get out of the sewer tunnel.

"Yes, should, because the conclusive data–" He gestures to the manhole cover and presumably outside of it. "–hasn't been observed yet. It's a hypothesis."

"You said you knew where to go." At this point, Strange is just making it difficult for the sake of it, at least, that's what Spider-Man is assuming because it's a nicer thing to believe than the idea that Strange still thinks he's incompetent after all of their missions together. He's just being grouchy.

"Duh, but you don't say something is absolute until you can prove it. That's basic science. I thought you were a doctor." He sighs dramatically, "And here I was trying to bond." He climbs up the ladder the rest of the way, pushing open the manhole cover—only gritting his teeth a little at the scrape of metal on asphalt—and poking his head out. "Here we are. See? Told you!" He crawls fully out, checking his surroundings before sticking his head back in. "You're good to come up. One at a time, please." That probably didn't need stating, but he's had moments where his teammates all tried to go through a door at once.

Ock doesn't hesitate to take up Spider-Man's offer; she's out within seconds, cursing about the cramped space they entire way up. Ceres tilts their head as she leaves and follows quickly after; they still dont trust her not to bolt.

In the sewer, Strange gives Loki a dark glower, clicking his tongue, "Tch, then I suppose it is a good thing I do not concern myself with such things as vanity." He completely ignores the implications of looking terrible, focusing on the appearance aspect instead before he pushes himself up the ladder, mostly using Capey to float up rather than touch the rungs with his hands.

Once everyone is back in the light of day, Spider-Man toes the manhole cover back into place. He gestures for everyone to follow and leads them to the high school's iron gates. "Just to be very clear, I don't go here anymore, so if you're going to try and kill me, don't waste your time here," he announces, kind of useless considering roughly half of the group is going back to their own universe, and hopefully the rest don't try and kill him. But it's better to be safe than sorry. No way is anyone going to get hurt because of him. The front yard of the school is decorated with sparse trees and a bench that seems to be more graffiti than wood at this point.

Through the glass doors are beige walls and multi-colored tile floors in a pattern that is slightly off-center. There's a trophy case and a few student artworks high on the walls, and the echo of the whistled tune from the janitor.

"Killing you here would be a disservice to those actually trying to learn," Ock responds dryly. "I would wait until school was out."

The group trails behind Spider-Man, following as he leads them in. Ceres runs a hand along the wall as they walk, taking in the vibes of the place. It really isnt all that much different from the movies, appearance wise. If anything, it looks less exciting. They can't imagine they missed much by skipping out on the school thing entirely.

They perk a little at the sound of whistling. Their group is a little big, and they aren't sure how stealthy Ock can be (not that Ceres themself is awfully sneaky.) They think about bringing it up, but Spidey has the same super senses they do, and he's not commenting on it. It's... probably fine.

"Rodger," they hum as Spidey explains the plan. "Ock can run fast. Right, Ock?"

Spider-Man nods as Ceres confirms what he hopes is actually true. So long as everyone can keep up they will be fine. He turns into one of the classrooms, letting everyone in before shutting the door. "Take a seat in any chair, no feet on the tables."

I'm almost done with my mission reports, finally