Entry tags:
Dial-an-Avenger
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"Carol, you have a time bomb in your brain. Until we figure out how to diffuse it... you cannot fly."
This was not in the plan for today. It flies in the face of all the principles of the lucky hat!
Ugh. Flying. Did it have to be that?
Why not, hey Carol, no more Jazzercise?
(She and Jess tried that once. Apparently, snarking at the back of the class is not encouraged at Jazzercise.)
What if she ate more kale? Tony drinks those terrible kale smoothies and he doesn't have a brain lesion.
(He can still fly!)
The problem is this isn't at all like finding dinosaurs in Midtown. You can't punch a brain lesion.
(You can punch the dinosaurs. It's oh so satisfying.)
And that's the root of the problem, isn't it? Carol's used to fighting her way out of her problems, with her fists and her feet, with carefully chosen or viciously shouted words, with old-fashioned pigheaded stubbornness.
Dr. Nayar insists that Carol needs patience more than stubbornness. That sounds fake... but sure. Okay. Patience.
Carol will be patient with these
She just needs to not overdo it. And maybe eat some kale. Buy some kale? She'll at least look at some kale, and not even glare at it!
Is there anything around here that needs punching? It's too hard to sleep when your head's pounding like this.
Quote from Captain Marvel (2012) #9 by Kelly Sue DeConnick. Read it, love it, admire the amazing Andrade/Bellaire art.
Entry tags:
Carol Danvers Is Not a Fashion Designer
Time's like this, Carol could really use some input from Janet van Dyne. Jan, is, after all, the fashion guru of the Avengers. But Jan's gone, has been gone for far too long now, and apparently this is just going to be one of those days when Carol can't help but stew a little bit about the friends she's lost.
The thing is, her costume hasn't really felt like her for awhile now. It's an old standby, one that she's returned to time and time again, but she's finally ready to admit that her fondness for it comes mostly from nostalgia. It was Jan's design, from back in a day when they were younger and sillier and superheroing was mostly just fun, but it definitely doesn't fit who Carol is now. The loss of Mar-Vell has brought her Kree legacy to the forefront of her mind, and that's got her thinking that maybe it's time to return to her roots a little. Showcase both where she came from and the woman she is today.
She doodles a few Kree stars absently on a blank page of her notebook, then tries drawing a figure like she recalls Jan doing. Jan's were elegant. This is... a hardly human looking mess. This is probably why her last attempt at designing her own costume ended up looking less "aerial combat" and more "dirt bike racing." Those were dark times.
Carol turns to Chewie, sitting placidly on another kitchen chair. "There's a reason I'm a writer, not an artist," she says.
Chewie meows her response.
"Make it work? Thanks, Tim Gunn."
Maybe she'll do better with a list. She needs gloves and boots—although maybe something a little more combat ready?—for sure. She's always kind of envied Jessica and Natasha their full-body suits, and now Bobbi's rocking the look as well. So yes, add that to the list. Mar-Vell used to wear red with blue, but she doesn't want to just be a copy of him... maybe blue with red accents as a tribute? And the Kree star, of course. Let's see... she doesn't need weapons holsters, the mask is redundant now that everyone knows who she is, and there will definitely be no knee pads, so that should do it.
"Well, let's go try this out then."
Standing in front of the mirror in her new outfit she realizes that although it looks pretty good, there's something missing.
"The stupid sash!"
There's a distinct advantage to these energy manipulation powers. Adding new elements to a costume this way takes way less time than sewing them. Sash settled at her hips she checks out her new look again, and this time it passes muster.
"Now I just have to figure out what to do with my hair..."
The thing is, her costume hasn't really felt like her for awhile now. It's an old standby, one that she's returned to time and time again, but she's finally ready to admit that her fondness for it comes mostly from nostalgia. It was Jan's design, from back in a day when they were younger and sillier and superheroing was mostly just fun, but it definitely doesn't fit who Carol is now. The loss of Mar-Vell has brought her Kree legacy to the forefront of her mind, and that's got her thinking that maybe it's time to return to her roots a little. Showcase both where she came from and the woman she is today.
She doodles a few Kree stars absently on a blank page of her notebook, then tries drawing a figure like she recalls Jan doing. Jan's were elegant. This is... a hardly human looking mess. This is probably why her last attempt at designing her own costume ended up looking less "aerial combat" and more "dirt bike racing." Those were dark times.
Carol turns to Chewie, sitting placidly on another kitchen chair. "There's a reason I'm a writer, not an artist," she says.
Chewie meows her response.
"Make it work? Thanks, Tim Gunn."
Maybe she'll do better with a list. She needs gloves and boots—although maybe something a little more combat ready?—for sure. She's always kind of envied Jessica and Natasha their full-body suits, and now Bobbi's rocking the look as well. So yes, add that to the list. Mar-Vell used to wear red with blue, but she doesn't want to just be a copy of him... maybe blue with red accents as a tribute? And the Kree star, of course. Let's see... she doesn't need weapons holsters, the mask is redundant now that everyone knows who she is, and there will definitely be no knee pads, so that should do it.
"Well, let's go try this out then."
Standing in front of the mirror in her new outfit she realizes that although it looks pretty good, there's something missing.
"The stupid sash!"
There's a distinct advantage to these energy manipulation powers. Adding new elements to a costume this way takes way less time than sewing them. Sash settled at her hips she checks out her new look again, and this time it passes muster.
"Now I just have to figure out what to do with my hair..."
Entry tags:
(no subject)
When Cap demanded that Carol finally take a break to go home and sleep, she hadn't expected to end up staying at Milliways for a few weeks, but if there's one truth in Carol's life it's that she should always expect the unexpected.
It's been... restful. Which again, might not be what one would expect from a bar at the end of the universe, but what matters is that she's been away from the fighting for a few weeks and had time to process her anger and grief. She's made a few new friends in the process, which certainly doesn't hurt.
That thing with the music was pretty weird, but nobody actually got hurt, and it seems to have gone away again. No harm, no foul. And really, who wouldn't want to listen to Carol sing along to her favorite pop hits shut up, Jessica.
Unpleasant as current events in her world are, she can't avoid them forever, and today seems like as a good a day to pack up and go. Not that she has anything to pack, really, since she hadn't arrived with anything. She dons her Ms. Marvel uniform and locks up, then leaves her key—now hanging from a Millennium Falcon key chain—with Bar for safekeeping.
Back at home, it's straight to work, and that means meeting with Rogue. It goes about as well as could be expected, which is to say there's just as much punching as there is talking, and Rogue, predictably, just has to go there and absorb some of Carol's powers. Still, she felt like she maybe could have made Rogue see reason if Magik hadn't shown up and thrown Carol in prison.
In Limbo.
Shit.
It's been... restful. Which again, might not be what one would expect from a bar at the end of the universe, but what matters is that she's been away from the fighting for a few weeks and had time to process her anger and grief. She's made a few new friends in the process, which certainly doesn't hurt.
That thing with the music was pretty weird, but nobody actually got hurt, and it seems to have gone away again. No harm, no foul. And really, who wouldn't want to listen to Carol sing along to her favorite pop hits shut up, Jessica.
Unpleasant as current events in her world are, she can't avoid them forever, and today seems like as a good a day to pack up and go. Not that she has anything to pack, really, since she hadn't arrived with anything. She dons her Ms. Marvel uniform and locks up, then leaves her key—now hanging from a Millennium Falcon key chain—with Bar for safekeeping.
Back at home, it's straight to work, and that means meeting with Rogue. It goes about as well as could be expected, which is to say there's just as much punching as there is talking, and Rogue, predictably, just has to go there and absorb some of Carol's powers. Still, she felt like she maybe could have made Rogue see reason if Magik hadn't shown up and thrown Carol in prison.
In Limbo.
Shit.