mysteriomanifesto

[mysteriomanifesto]

“don’t ever apologize for being the smartest one in the room.” - spider-man: far from home

#🔮: I control the Truth #🔮: Night Monkey #🔮: rel: you're a good person; such a weakness (Quentin & Peter)

[mysteriomanifesto]

[ EVENT: WAKANDAN SPACE PROGRAMME LAUNCH ] [ LOCATION: WAKANDAN EMBASSY ]

          Morbid curiosity and scepticism had drawn Quentin to the venue. While he likes a good show-and-tell  session as much as the next person, 'prototype'  be damned - spare him the need to overly gloat on an achievement that has yet to provide tangible results outside the realm of the conceptualisation and development stages of R&D. Armed with a plethora of probing questions Beck had prepared beforehand for Shuri, the engineer finds his focus waylaid with the abrupt interruption by the antagonistic kid - the brunet has very little interest ( read: none ) in the plights of mutantkind but a smirk twitches into place as the developer amusedly appreciates the youngster’s direct nature--- But the mood drastically shifts as the Dora Milaje's approach sees her solidified in her tracks, sheer blood-curdling panic descending over the crowd as the guard shatters into numerous fragments, steely eyes widening as the sudden gravity of the situation dawns on the man ( this city and its fucking super-freaks ).

@rescue-49 @harlems-hero

#fao: new brotherhood #rescue 49 #harlems hero #t: embassy fiasco

[mysteriomanifesto]

lastzenwhoberian‌:

“And I appreciate that you are not trying to make… small talk. I think that’s what it’s called.” Gamora shook her head, realising that she was the one talking a bit much. Peter Quill definitely changed her. 

“Are you…what is the plan? Stay on this earth? Or try to find your way home?”

          “𝕊𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜, 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥’𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕥.” He offers the woman an encouraging nod with her grasp of the Terran term, her inadequacy regarding it duly noted. “𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤. 𝕀𝕥 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖.” Blue eyes flit towards the ground in measured uneasiness with Gamora’s oncoming series of questions, the man forcibly pushing himself to imagine the horrors that had been a part of the 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠’𝕤 backstory.

                    “𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕪... 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕝𝕖𝕗𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖.” There’s the temptation to leave the standalone response but such is his penchant for attention, Beck can’t help but elaborate. “ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗--- 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕.”

#flash forward #lastzenwhoberian #🔮: the Tragic Hero #//me: tries hard not to spoil my FAO plans for Mysterio asdf

[mysteriomanifesto]

rescue-49‌:

Women needlessly apologizing was practically a cultural thing to shame women about, but still it happened from time and time again. The biggest piece of advice she ever got was from Tony: ‘Never apologize. You’re not sorry, so stop saying it.’ 

Gathering the minimal things into the smaller bag tucked under her desk, she stands up with the smaller purse and leads him to the elevator. Waving to Bambi who was tucked away at her desk. Most of the C-Suite was long gone for lunch. The elevator sped straight down without even a button being pushed straight down to the private garage where Tony and the tower resident kept their cars.  “I was thinking this new little bistro up town,” Pepper mentions,”They have lovely salads.” 

          Miss Potts’ pace is brisk ( despite her heels ), the junior developer pushing himself to keep up as they approach the contraption to zip down to the car park - Quentin wasn’t sure if it was purely his imagination or the ingenuity of the AI overseeing the building’s facilities, but the music would always be to his taste whenever he opted to use the elevator. It sounded a little different today ( perhaps due to his company..? ).

                    “That sounds nice. I’m always looking for new places to eat but I feel like somewhere new opens every week. It’s hard to keep track.” Beck offers a sheepish grin as they draw closer to the car, fingertips impatiently drumming against the protective encasing surrounding the slender formation of the tablet in-hand. A palm instinctively passes over the outline of his wallet within his pocket to ensure it was accounted for, injecting a small means of humour into the conversation as his tone grows lighter. “...although I’ve never really been one for salads, so I’ll take your word for it.”

#flashback #t: working lunch #rescue 49 #//re: salads - how times change asdf

[mysteriomanifesto]

harlems-hero‌:

“It comes with the bar order that I sign for each week, if that’s what you’re meaning.”  The taller gentleman responded with a late, if not hearty laugh.  An inordinate amount of teeth flashed as his shoulders shook.  That seemed to cue two of the other bartenders to chuckle along with him, even if they weren’t fully aware of the punchline.  

“Glad you appreciate the drink though.  So, I’m guessing you’re one of Captain Audrey’s brand newly minted white boys here for tribute?  Word of advice.  These ain’t office hours.  Its closing time, and you need to pay your respects during the daytime.  And make yourself known too, undercover or not.  I’ll make sure you’re not made by anybody that’s too mad and bad to know.”

          Quentin takes another sip from the glass, the tip of his tongue trailing over his lips in a bid to chase remnants of the beverage with a low hum of contentment. His grin broadens with the other’s laughter but it’s the curious manner in which the two employees join in which amuses the developer more - power was often firmly held onto by those who weren’t deserving of it, handed down to them through the legacy of predecessors forging a long term reputation. There’s an element of that here but the manner in which Stokes carries himself contradicts any thought of hypocrisy that may linger at the back of Beck’s mind, an abundant air of respect  effortlessly commanded that comes across in waves as the two bartenders know their place ( it intrigues Quentin ).

                    “Captain Audrey---” There’s a distinct lack of recognition over the brunet’s features, a questioning brow faintly raised - the name sounds vaguely familiar, potentially from a soundbite from featured reports as part of his ongoing research of varied waves of crime in New York. As much as Beck didn’t particularly enjoy blindly walking into a place of ill-repute, he finds the idea of being pegged as a member of the NYPD hilarious ( was he giving off a particular vibe? ). “You must be mistaking me for someone else... but it’s nice to see that you take care of those even when they conflict with your personal interests.” The tumbler is swapped over, his right hand extended towards Cornell in a bid to clarify his supposed stance within this mess of mistaken identities, readying himself to roll into the fabricated spiel in which the engineer had adopted over the past nine months. “Quentin Beck. R&D in New Media.”

3:40 AM:  Harlem’s Paradise

#t: 3:40AM #harlems hero

[mysteriomanifesto]

You can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly.

(via sincerelynargis)

#🔮: Nexus

[mysteriomanifesto]

“You are so gullible. I mean you’re as smart as a whip, just a... sucker. So now all your friends have to die. It’s easy to fool people if they are already fooling themselves. But for what it’s worth, Peter, I really am sorry.”

#🔮: Narcissism #🔮: Night Monkey

[mysteriomanifesto]

mark-xlvl‌:

Did Tony step over the line? Maybe but he truly felt the way he did regarding Quentin. The words weren’t simply plucked from thin air. He saw how the young man interacted with the people around him, how he handled himself in tight situations. That was enough for Tony to make the observation, but honestly - maybe he was taken with how shy Quentin seemed in extreme social situations - not shy, awkward. Yes. Awkward. And seeing him now, from where he was. It was heartwarming. 

Tony laughed at the supposed consolation. “Thank you, I’ll make sure to add it as one of my special skills on my resume.” He was about to argue but he noticed the people and thought that maybe Quentin was right. He nodded. “Alright.” The silence in the car was truly deafening. Hands moving around the interior to try and occupy himself with something, only to find that turning all the knobs made time pass by quicker. 

Quentin’s sudden appearance drew his attention and he got out of the car. Following behind him he raised an eyebrow at the sign. “Why do I feel like I suddenly stepped into an episode of the Big Bang Theory? Now I’m going to expect some cheap laughing soundtrack to play whenever I say something barely funny.” he smiled, eyes trekking over each step as he continued up them. “If you’re really looking for a place just to get out while looking for another, I can put you up in the tower? Closer to your job, less hassle and I can assure you the supervisor is a kind and generous man.” Tony chuckled.

          As confident as Beck could be, there was always an element of hesitance with those around him, the junior developer hyperaware  of his actions and the potential outcomes in which they could elicit ( favourable or otherwise ). He wasn’t particularly a fan of surprises, presently opting for safer choices despite lofty aspirations - it would be some time before the young man would be comfortable within his own skin to push boundaries and make a stand. Carefully grappling with the box of pizza as the colleagues trundle up the stairway, Quentin raises a quizzical brow with the mention of the show that was currently so popular, silently blinking while trying to scrape the recesses of his mind for any information that could further the conversation - regardless of the voracity in which he consumed particular shows, the younger engineer draws a blank ( he didn’t waste his time on certain media ). “I take it you’re not a fan...?”

                    Scrambling through his pockets as they draw to his floor, the futurist’s concern about Beck’s living arrangement doesn’t go unnoticed, a faint hint of a smile drifting across the brunet’s lips - life in New York was very much one of independence, so it’s bizarrely jarring to find someone showing an interest ( perhaps he had been away from home for too long... ). “I don’t doubt that he is. One of the best,  I’d say.” The smile broadens and Quentin finds himself forcibly dragging his gaze away to focus on his door, sliding a key into the locking mechanism. “That’s real generous of you, Mr Stark. You’ve been so unbelievably helpful, I feel like I’d be imposing if I took you up on the offer. But thanks, I do appreciate it. Really.  I’ll be on my feet in no time.” There’s a brief pause as the developer’s forehead presses against the entrance with a grimace, voice muffled slightly as embarrassment takes hold. “I forgot to mention, my place is---”

           The door creaks open to reveal a cramped studio apartment with furniture predominantly occupying the space, additional boxes neatly stacked on the side with Beck’s personal belongings hindering the ability to freely move around. Squeezing past, he drops his keys into a bowl residing on a sideboard, an elongated brass tinged lava lamp settled besides it with dormant green and red liquid within. “---on the small  side. You couldn’t swing a cat in here. Please make yourself at home.” Placing the pizza on a coffee table near the couch, Quentin nudges it in the CEO’s direction, setting his laptop bag down to withdraw a lanyard with his SI ID. “Y’know, I always thought that was a weird expression. Who’d wanna do that to a cat...?” Approaching his PC setup nearby, the ID’s swept aside to reveal a slender formation deceptively resembling a commonplace flash drive - promptly inserted into one of the machine’s ports, a mechanism that hinders the workstation from booting up without the prerequisite of direct contact from the device is disabled ( paranoid much? ), the engineer logging onto the Stark Network.

#flashback #t: make way for tomorrow today #mark xlvl

[mysteriomanifesto]

#🔮: quasi perceptual

[mysteriomanifesto]

I’m still standing better than I ever did Looking like a true survivor Feeling like a little kid I’m still standing after all this time Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind I’m still standing Yeah yeah yeah

#🔮: Music Theory

[mysteriomanifesto]

MAKE ME CHOOSE: @elnathh asked: spider-man homecoming or far from home?

#🔮: Narcissism #🔮: I control the Truth #🔮: Night Monkey

[mysteriomanifesto]

morlockcal‌:

Cal straightened, her uncovered eye taking a moment to adjust to the light being shone into them. If her mutation hadn’t already made her senses more attuned to life in the dark, years of living in these tunnels certainly would have. It was sometimes hard to even remember what life under bright lights was like. “There is, yeah. She replied, arms crossed  in front of her. “It’s cause for concern when you are trespassing.”

          “Trespassing... Cuius est solum, eius est usque ad coelum et ad inferos.” Beck mutters the Latin phrase, the vaguest hint of laughter threatening to emerge from the depths of his throat, held back purely due to the dank stench  of their immediate surroundings. There’s a minor shift of water underfoot as the developer takes a small step forwards, head canted to one side as steely eyes peer down at the woman. “I didn’t realise you held a deed  of sorts to all  the tunnels under Manhattan. You must have incredible  reach.”

#🔮: Mysterious Things #morlockcal

[mysteriomanifesto]

atrxvido‌:

“Insecurity is creating a whole new image because you can’t handle the fact that I BEAT YOU!” He knows that to be true. Because if he could get a read on 3the wannabe-mastermind’s location, his days would be numbered. “And I’m gonna enjoy doing it again.”

          “𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕤𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕝𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦? 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕓𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦 - 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕝, 𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕠𝕔𝕜. 𝕐𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕦𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕪 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝’𝕤 𝕂𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖.” Consistent waves of infrasound are emitted into the space, the semblance of the outline of the armoured man ascending.

                    “𝕀’𝕞 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤. 𝔸 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕪’𝕤 𝕦𝕟𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕕𝕦𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖.”

#//hoo boy #flash forward #🔮: the Descent #atrxvido

[mysteriomanifesto]

atrxvido‌:

“Well that’s…depressing. Although if Hell’s Kitchen always suffers that way, it must always have its defenders as well. I confess, myself, I’m struggling to get my head around the existence of ‘other dimensions’ - but I had hoped there’d be one where we could all put our feet up and have a cup of coffee in the absence of organised crime.” Except, what would he do in that world? Just be a lawyer? No wonder it doesn’t exist, because it’s so very unlikely.

          “𝕆𝕗 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖. ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕥 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣-𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕫𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕒 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕝𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕤. 𝕀𝕥 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕒 𝕝𝕠𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖. 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥---” A pause ensues as 𝕄𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕠 turns to fully face the other, the curve of the orb tipping downwards a fraction, Beck’s scorn for the man kept at bay as they converse.

                    “𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪, 𝕀’𝕞 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥... 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 - 𝕀’𝕞 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕒 𝕘𝕦𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥, 𝕀’𝕞 𝕟𝕠 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣-𝕕𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕥.”

#flash forward #atrxvido #🔮: the Tragic Hero

[mysteriomanifesto]

harlems-hero‌:

A knock on the door stirred Cornell from his musings, as well as the tones that traveled from mind to fingertip to keyboard.  His bar manager was bringing up the final numbers, as well as the secondary drop that needed to be routed off to Crispus Attucks by Amos and a few of his knockers.  All in all, a good night.

  A successful night. One that reminded Cornell that even if this gangster shit was priority, he still could run one hell of a legitimate nightspot.  He could entertain.  And apparently, from his manager’s other mention, that’s something he’d have to do with a straggler at the bar.  One who stood out for obvious reasons in Harlem’s Paradise even beyond nursing an Old Fashioned this late in the evening. 

Stokes looked down at the bar area, noting the guest of concern before deciding to attend this himself.  Leaving the jacket behind but the tie on, to show a still working image, he made his way next to Beck, signaling for a bottled seltzer to join the gentleman.  “Here’s hoping they put Buffalo Trace in that Oldie.  It’s life changing.”  

Originally posted by zinephile

          Quentin’s attention had been lingering on a few individuals across the room who were engrossed in heated conversation ( a disagreement perhaps? ) - despite their dialogue being inaudible to him, if he wasn’t mistaken at least one of them had been performing earlier that night. Such is his concentration, the engineer’s expression scarcely alters as he notes the movement around him, a look of disinterest initially maintained despite his stance growing a little straighter. It hadn’t been lost on the man that he stood out within his surroundings, unwanted  attention drawn towards him despite having kept to himself and the person he had been meeting with - it hadn’t been Beck’s choice to convene here so far from Midtown, but sometimes one had to make allowances to keep others happy.

                    The lights within the establishment play across the brunet’s form, the shift gradually illuminating the club’s patron. “That a fact?” His tone’s playful, the edges of his lips curling upwards to adopt a friendly albeit quizzical grin with a faint crease of his brow. Obliging as the barkeep freshens up the drink, Beck takes a moment to admire the rich hues before taking a tentative sip. “Well,  you weren’t kidding---” His brow promptly shoots upwards, breathy laughter expelled. “I should’ve asked you for drink suggestions much earlier in the night. Knowing the best you have to offer probably comes with the territory, right?”

3:40 AM:  Harlem’s Paradise

#t: 3:40AM #harlems hero

[mysteriomanifesto]

[ @madameofmasquerade - continued from x and x ]

          There was something about the manner in which Whitney comported herself - the way  she was lounging and nestled against the couch gave an air of inherent comfort, as if she belonged with Beck’s personal taste in decors ( a deadly accessory ). The thought amuses the villain, a smirk twitching into place as she further explains her musing - the song’s a classic, its grandiose ensemble in keeping with Beck’s penchant for flamboyant flair. He was starting to grow accustomed to the permanent use of the mask, subtle inclinations speaking volumes despite the lack of a shifting expression. Quentin sniggers amidst a sing-song lilt emerges in his voice, the man sinking into the couch in turn, a grey-clad arm extended to rest against the headrest as he allows himself to stop for a moment to relax - a sporadic luxury that was a byproduct of the bustling nature of his scheming.

                    “Easy come, easy go...” The developer scoffs as he considers the Avengers, his place within the ‘team’ bringing with it a certain degree of insight into the lives of ‘the other side.’  With a shake of his head, the brunet’s line of vision lingers up towards the lofty ceiling with a grimace, scarcely holding back his irritation. “You wouldn’t believe the level of incompetence  I have to tolerate with this good guy routine - a discussion can be in full swing, someone will walk into a room and---” A hand demonstratively slices through the air. “Absolute silence and awkward gazes abound due to ancient history that no one can work through. It’s like being in a Telenovela. I half expect music to play in the background as the lighting shifts...”

#//hehehe the song is also on Beck's playlist :B #//ofc he's talking about the Avengers still being awk after CW #//some things will never change no matter how far into the future this thread is tbh #flash forward #madameofmasquerade #🔮: the Descent

[mysteriomanifesto]

*ten minute rant* i aint even mad

#🔮: Nexus