In 1975, a pair of Kree adventures named Ro-Nald and Rid-Lee crashed on Earth after barely surviving a brief skirmish with a minor Brood hive.

Four years later, they released a motion picture.

Messing around with third-stage antiprotonic helium is tricky enough as it is.
Having a guest backseat driving doesn’t make it any easier. 😐

"ᗯᕼEᑎ YOᑌ ᔕᗩᑕᖇIᖴIᑕE TOO ᗰᑌᑕᕼ Oᖴ YOᑌᖇᔕEᒪᖴ ᖴOᖇ TᕼE GᖇEᗩTEᖇ GOOᗪ, YOᑌ ᑕᗩᑎ ᒪOᔕE ᔕIGᕼT Oᖴ ᗯᕼᗩT’ᔕ GOOᗪ TO ᗷEGIᑎ ᗯITᕼ."

True. And that’s not the only time that his actions appear to have contradicted his oath of impartiality.
Of course, if he were to affirm his attachment to humanity, he might put his existence as Watcher into jeopardy…

I’d like to think so, but if you asked him, he’d probably deny it. As I understand, his role is to be an impartial observer, and to never interfere with events.

Trust me; the concept weirded me out too, at first. But then I came to realize, he’s a cog in the universal machine. Part of the universe’s ecosystem. In a way, It’s like being watched by a cat, or a giraffe.

Uatu? He’s actually alright, once you get to know him.

Good morning #bluesky

“🎶 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘴𝘴…”

"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦."
- 𝖣𝖬𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌.
- 𝖱𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗐.

Ororo’s friend Logan made his own birthday cake a few years ago.
She sent me a photo of it:

𝗔 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹, 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗲.

𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲, 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝘁𝘇𝗲𝘀;

𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲.

𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗽 𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗲. 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲, 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗸𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲.

▪ 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 / 𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 (𝘭𝘦𝘸𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯).

▪ 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘪-𝘧𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥.

▪ 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱: @thewarhero.bsky.social

▪ 𝘋𝘔𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 (𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘖𝘖𝘊 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵).

*nods*
“Hello, Ororo.”

…𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈
𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒
𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝒮𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈
𝐹𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝑜𝓃 🎵

Irving Berlin may have written it, but the song didn’t realize its full potential until Ella Fitzgerald put her spin on it!

Young folks today are more than a little confounding. Going on about flexing their skibbidy rizz toilets and what-not?

Sounds like a bunch of meaningless mush-mouthed gibberish to me.

“In one, your brother was injured by Doctor Doom, and in his absence, you assumed the role of Black Panther. In another, the two of you wage war against the gods Ra and Konshu. I even visited one in which you are both fictional characters, written to entertain and inspire the disenfranchised.”

A little known math fact:

“10+10” and “11+11” are actually the same thing.

“10+10” is twenty.

And “11+11” is twenty, two.

𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟸. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑.
𝙰𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚏.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝟼𝟶’𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚎𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏.

"It's not for you to tell me what I am. I know myself far better than anyone else could. Just like you know who you are, and it's wrong for me to question it and unquestionable for you to change it."

Vivian Vision, daughter of the Vision (and only Survivor of his new family), is ready to explore.

𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍… 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎; 𝚊 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕. 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚢: 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟸, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙰𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜. 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊, 𝙹𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚋 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛-𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚆𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙴.