#squad formation

[warningsine]

[fakebetchluke]

squad formation🤞🏼

[warningsine]

[warningsine]

They look like they're in one of those makeover reality shows and Lottie is their judge/fashion guru.

[www-webwarriors]

Beetles Take Flight

The rain over Brooklyn tasted like iron and ozone, the kind that made the streetlights flicker and the city feel briefly unreal. Janice Lincoln stood beneath the skeletal ribs of an abandoned ferry terminal, her heels planted, hands tucked into the pockets of a tailored coat that hid far more than a gun. She’d chosen the place carefully—neutral ground, forgotten, and humming faintly with old power conduits she’d already tapped.

Four shadows approached from different angles. Janice smiled.

Elizabeth Vaughn arrived first, confidence in every step, eyes sharp and calculating. She looked like someone who could talk her way into—or out of—anything, and usually did both before breakfast. Joaquim Robichaux followed, taller, broader, carrying himself like a man who’d already accepted that the world was cruel and decided to be cruel back. Gary Quinn came last, nervous energy radiating off him, fingers twitching as if itching to take something apart just to see how it worked.

“Nice turnout,” Elizabeth said, glancing around. “If this is a murder, you picked a dramatic venue.”

Janice chuckled softly. “Relax. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be inconvenient memories.”

That got Joaquim’s attention. “You don’t bring people like us together for small talk,” he said. “So say it.”

Janice turned, reached into her coat, and pressed a button on a compact remote. The air behind her split—metal unfolding like wings mid-thought. A sleek suit of Beetle armor hovered into place, blue-green plating alive with faint pulses of light, insectile and elegant all at once.

Gary’s breath caught. “That’s… that’s not just reverse-engineered. That’s evolved.”

“Exactly,” Janice said. “And it’s not the only one.”

Another click. Then another.

Three more armors rose from hidden alcoves, each distinct—sleeker, heavier, sharper—designed not just for combat, but for identity. Power tailored to the wearer.

Elizabeth circled one, eyes gleaming. “You’re offering us keys to the kingdom.”

“I’m offering you a swarm,” Janice replied. “The city’s full of kings and gods and spiders who think they own the skyline. They never look down. Never think about what’s crawling up their legs.”

Joaquim crossed his arms. “And you?”

Janice stepped forward, the rain beading harmlessly off her armor as it locked into place around her. Her helmet folded open just enough for them to see her smile—sharp, assured, inevitable.

“I lead,” she said. “We hit hard, fast, and together. No lone wolves. No disposable pawns. We’re precision. We’re unity.”

Gary swallowed, then nodded slowly. “A hive mind,” he murmured. “Shared tech. Shared purpose.”

Elizabeth smirked. “Catchy name?”

Janice’s visor slid shut with a quiet, predatory hum. “The Beetles.”

Thunder rolled overhead as the armors powered on, wings flexing, lights igniting one by one. In the forgotten terminal, something new took flight—not chaos, not conquest, but something far more dangerous.

Coordination.

And somewhere across the city, heroes shivered without knowing why.

[warningsine]

Every time I watch this scene I start giggling, because it's the epitome of this:

And especially this:

[stan-leigh-bowery]

I know what I’m doing the second I mainline the second dose of that sweet, sweet vaccine

[queenofnots]

Never will I ever be over these photos...