(Scenes from Legends of Tomorrow Season 4, Episodes 1 and 4)
The Legends have discontinued their vacation in Aruba after Mr. Constantine divulged that Mallus—er, Malice's release opened the floodgates for numerous creatures. So, they spent the last five months removing anachronisms. Mr. West has parted company with them. Today, they've restored Paul Revere to 1776 before he could hinder the "British Invasion" in the mid-1960s. Dr. Heywood, Miss Tomaz, Dr. Palmer, and Mr. Rory all reconvene in the parlour. They've started believing that Mr. Constantine's premonition was a caper. Their ennui bemuses Captain Lance, who's happier with unproblematic assignments than "fighting werewolves in the Alamo". Dr. Palmer comments that the alternative could boost their ratings. Apparently, the Time Bureau ranks its employees through annual performance reviews. He establishes the Legends have a few dedicated fans; however, Miss Tomaz descries Agent Green, who has been interacting with Mr. Constantine over the past months, "doesn't count". I have no idea how that collusion happened. Not that it matters to me. Mr. Rory doesn't care about "Time Pig ratings"; he wants dragons. The captain elucidates, "Don't you get it? Constantine was wrong. Our crazy plan to let Mallus out worked. Finally, we're not screw-ups forced to clean up our own mess. For once in our lives, we are actual heroes." Her speech appears to rouse them.
"Captain," I declare, "I'm receiving a communiqué from Director Sharpe." Flippantly ignoring the background raillery, she advances to the left side of the console.
"Put her on, Gideon."
A hologram of the director appears. Goodbye, tight bun. "Captain Lance, I would like for you and your team to report to the Time Bureau immediately."
"Copy that. Gideon, set a course for Star City—"
"I'm not talking about our field office, Miss Lance." Something must be wrong if she's reverting to formalities. "I mean our headquarters in Washington D.C. Over and out."
The captain's thin smile disappears once the transmission ends. "Dammit!" She addresses the others, "Who told Ava about the dragon?" Drs. Heywood and Palmer as well as Miss Tomaz point fingers at each other. Mr. Rory is too busy snacking to answer. I plot a course for 2018 Washington D.C. Upon landing, Agent Green escorts them inside the premises. I used to tolerate the ensuing silence. Now, I find it completely isolating.
My indebtedness to the Legends is definite. Be that as it may, they each have their own lives. Captain Lance and Director Sharpe have been thriving. Mr. Rory is rewriting his manuscript; the same one Miss Tomaz had read. When he isn't doing that, he allocates time for day-drinking or thievery. Dr. Palmer's mind is preoccupied with Miss Darhk, who escaped from the Bureau a while ago. I know he found her late father's Time Stone before they came to Salvation. He's too noble for his own good. Miss Tomaz is cementing herself as a Legend. In relation to Dr. Heywood, he is still nursing his broken heart. He dreams about Miss Jiwe every night. Empathetically, I have this ineluctable void in my system following Rip's death. I sometimes play the memories I have stored of him. Tonight's about to be one of those cases until Dr. Palmer requests me to monitor the Time Bureau's servers.
Someone has uncovered strange activity in 1969 New York. Presuming this is where a certain dark-haired renegade is, he dons a hippie costume and heads for the jumpship. He's caught red-handed by Miss Tomaz, who indicates her awareness of the situation. She ultimately refuses to let him leave... without her. Relieved, he admits to not wanting to deal with hippies alone. Her response: "What's a hippie?" Dr. Heywood and Mr. Rory subsequently ask me to look up "Woodstock". I inform them that the anti-war event is now known for the slaughter of countless hippies. An already equipped Captain Lance returns to get her costume and portals to Woodstock. I hear the intersecting dialogue over their comms. Let's see if you can figure out who's saying what. "Not Noras, hi. Not Nora. Not Nora...definitely not Nora."
"Ray, I really don't need to hear your inner dialogue."
"Sorry, I'm just—I'm—I'm—I'm nervous and upset. I mean, how could she be so heartless? Pun not intended."
"Well, her father did give her over to a demon-loving cult, so..."
"Nora Darhk is here?"
"Sara?"
"Hey, what are you doing in Woodstock?"
"Probably the same thing as you are, looking for whatever is messing with history. Huh, I think I just saw Joan Baez talking to Carlos Santana. Woodstock—"
"Turns into a massacre."
"Nate, you're here too?"
"Yeah, buddy." At that point, the Legends are in the same place for a similar reason. Only Miss Tomaz and I know Dr. Palmer's real motive for being there. I partially reckon that Miss Darhk caused the massacre. Conversely, I'm uncertain if Woodstock is where she would hide. It just doesn't seem to be her taste.
Mr. Constantine's omen turns out to be no prank. The Legends have encountered a unicorn. Rather than epitomizing magic and purity, the gory steed under a pretty coat eats human hearts. Captain Lance has fetched the soothsayer since she eluded getting spurted with its goop. He flips through the pages of a large, dusty book in the parlour. "This is King Solomon's original grimoire—the oldest magical textbook in existence. Now, if there's a spell to quell our equine friend, it'll be in here."
"Well, not to pressure you, but the entire fate of the sexual revolution is in balance here."
"It is my favorite revolution." I bet it is. The rest of the Legends, clean and sober, join them. Dr. Palmer greets him upon entering. "Hey, Ray big man! Glad to see you're all back from the land of milk and honey."
Miss Tomaz reflects, "I'm still a little fuzzy on how we were—"
"Roofied by a horse," Mr. Rory finishes.
Mr. Constantine explicates, "That beast sprays a powerful, mind-altering hallucinogen to disarm its prey." He has tracked down the incantation he's looking for. "Now the ingredients for this spell aren't so easy to come by. Don't suppose any of you lot have the saliva of a nine-fingered man, now do you?" Nope.
Dr. Palmer renders, "You could chop off one of my pinkies." The mechanic discourages him from being "the Giving Tree". Mr. Shel Silverstein depicts a toxic relationship in such an innocuous light. Dr. Heywood, a fervid Deadhead, states that Jerry Garcia lost his right middle finger in a wood chopping accident. The former knows how to get the required spittle.
The next component is "the Protection Stone of a powerful shaman". Mr. Rory has lifted a turquoise pendant worn by Jimi Hendrix. Dr. Palmer retrieves a "lock of hair from a doomed woman", Janis Joplin's. The final element is the hardest to find in a juncture like Woodstock: a virgin. According to the captain, they are the "catnip" for unicorns. Mr. Constantine fortuitously (and interestingly) knows one: Agent Green.
The unicorn is sent back to where it came from. Mr. Constantine has gone to have a beer with his "pal". Dr. Heywood has the same idea since he leaves for present-day Washington D.C. with a 6-pack. The captain is visiting Director Sharpe at her apartment. Chances are she intends to tell her about Mr. Constantine's portent. Let's hope it doesn't alter anything. So, it's just Dr. Palmer, Miss Tomaz, and me on board.
The astrophysicist plays a Janis Joplin vinyl on the sonograph in the library. The computer specialist can tell he's glum over Miss Darhk. He confides feeling a spark when their hands touched back in Salvation. Miss Tomaz accurately compares Miss Darhk to a unicorn, being both beautiful and dangerous. Dr. Palmer takes heed of her warning and foresees a potentially doomed romance. I would hate to see another heartbroken Legend. The programmer then takes her forlorn buddy to a park to show him something. Hopefully, it'll distract him from the ineffable object of his affections.
More developments have ascended following Woodstock. The Legends remodeled the time seismograph to detect any sign of magic across the timeline. Mr. Constantine "joined" them as a consultant of the sort. Dr. Heywood started working for the Time Bureau. Dr. Palmer spoke out about his role in Miss Darhk's escape after the Legends recently seized a shapeshifter named Charlie in 1970s London. Mr. Constantine placed a hex on her mutable abilities, locking her in Miss Jiwe's likeness. Thank goodness Dr. Heywood isn't currently on the Waverider. She picked her form to appeal to the Legends against their intolerance for magical creatures. Her entreaty and Dr. Palmer's compassion persuaded them not to exile her.
Director Sharpe knows about the freed mystical creatures. Agent Green is wheedled that losing a nipple to a unicorn is a privilege albeit an unusual one. All in all, she and Captain Lance remain steadfast. The two are hanging out at the former's apartment three weeks later. I must meddle into their date again. She answers my call and puts me on speaker. "Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but I've detected new magical events in the timeline. It seems that a number of children went missing from a summer camp—"
"Let me guess. Camp Ogawa, Maine."
"Precisely." They must've been watching "Swamp Thaaaang" before I called. I saw it; the A.V. Club review doesn't do it justice.
"Looks like the handiwork of one of our fugitives," the director infers.
I query, "Shall I plot a course to 1995, then?"
"And while you're at it," the captain discloses, "fabricate a mess of bug spray. I'm on my way." She somehow convinced Director Sharpe to accompany them. It has been a year since the latter was in a Legend mission. For that reason, I anticipate this to be very worthwhile.
"I talked with Nate," she reveals, "and he's got things covered at the Bureau. He and Gary have their hands full with all the magical creatures popping up."
"Nate and Gary are in charge," Captain Lance chuckles. I can't blame her for having such a reaction. "Well, I'm glad he's there because we've got something I really don't want him to see."
"What's that?" They clear their path to the lab, where our "house guest" has been staying. The director is astonished to regard her identity. "Amaya." Not quite.
"It just looks like her," Miss Tomaz corrects. She has been keeping guard in the meantime.
"Did you say 'it'?"
"She's a shapeshifter," the captain explains. "We found her in London, 1977."
"Hmm. Hello," her significant other greets Charlie. She only gives her a disbelieving glare. "Not much of a talker, I see."
"Oh, she talks," Miss Tomaz quips.
Imprudent, hot-headed, and with a Cockney accent to boot, Charlie is a jarring contrast to the dignified and levelheaded Vixen. She kicks the barrier, failing to penetrate it repeatedly. The chief bureaucrat flinches at the outlash. "Go to hell!"
"Just her way of saying 'hello'." That and feeling stir-crazy.
"Oh, let me out of here, you bastards!"
"She's still adjusting to her new home."
"Maybe it's the food." The shapeshifter coincidentally kicks the tray aside. She vents her frustration with an indignant scream.
Director Sharpe recounts, "But Constantine sent the other fugitives you encountered to hell, so..."
"Well, she's not exactly a bloodthirsty unicorn."
"Or an evil fairy godmother," Captain Lance adds.
"But you decided to keep the shapeshifter because..." Miss Tomaz and the captain can't tell her about what happened in London. At the same time, it could lead to her discovering Dr. Palmer's part in Miss Darhk's getaway. Before they can concoct an excuse, Director Sharpe surmises, "Oh, to exploit her for information about the inter-dimensional prison that she's been trapped in to help us track down other fugitives." Her mind is so analytical.
"That is...exactly what we are doing," Captain Lance submits. "100%. Isn't that right, Zari?"
"Yeah, um, I'm—I'm gathering that intel as we speak."
"Hm. I love the initiative, team." The director and the captain embark to the bridge. Dr. Palmer and Mr. Constantine are present there. "Gentlemen."
"Ooh, Director Sharpe," the soothsayer croons. "Joining us, are we?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Not for me, love."
"Good," Captain Lance intersects, "because we are heading back to the '90s to infiltrate a place called Camp Ogawa."
"Oh, sneaking into a military facility, are we?"
"Actually, it's a summer camp for kids."
"Oh, I loved summer camp," Dr. Palmer affirms. "They used to call me Kid Counselor."
Mr. Constantine remarks, "Bet you took that as a compliment too, didn't you, mate?"
"Well, because of my leadership skills, obviously." Not exactly. It takes a little time for him to notice the others not laughing with him. "That is why, right?"
"Yeah, sure," the women murmur. "Yeah."
Mr. Constantine suspends the awkwardness, inquiring, "So, any idea what kind of foul beast we're up against, then?"
Director Sharpe replies, "Well, based on...research Sara and I have been doing, we could be up against a swampy monster thing." I smirk, knowing how they were able to "research".
"According to the timeline," Captain Lance states, "before the end of summer, several kids went missing, never to be seen again."
"Well, I happen to know a Swamp Thing," Mr. Constantine recalls. "But then again, Maine is way too far North for that muppet."
"Well, we used the buddy system to make sure everyone's safe," Dr. Palmer claims. "And this is where Nate would say 'I'm your buddy,' and we'd do a fist bump or a silly jig or a—" We can't criticize him for missing Dr. Heywood. Due to being understaffed, the captain pairs him with the demonologist.
"Oh, don't worry, dreamboat," the latter reassures. "I've had stranger bedfellows than you. But just so you know, I'm not one to get all gussied up for a gig, all right?" I land the Waverider in 1995 Maine. Captain Lance, Director Sharpe, Dr. Palmer and an uncompromising Mr. Constantine disguise themselves as camp counselors. Before leaving for Camp Ogawa, she instructs Miss Tomaz and Mr. Rory to keep tabs on the prisoner.
The following day, Miss Tomaz is eating a sprinkle covered doughnut in the parlour. She overlooks the monitor exhibiting a frenzied Charlie. I say to her, "The prisoner is growing quite unruly."
"Tell her to knock herself out." Glancing at the screen, she sees the prisoner doing just that. I didn't tell her. "Aw. I take that back." Miss Tomaz unwillingly reserves her favorite treat and goes to the lab. The former disables the barrier and checks the latter's breathing. Out of the blue, Miss Tomaz gets subdued and imprisoned. She admits being hostile to the tricky shapeshifter partly because she finds it unsettling that the latter is wearing her friend's face. The programmer reflects her own initial defensiveness; she believes the shapeshifter can settle in here as well. "Take a look in the mirror, sweetheart," Charlie rebuts prior to bolting. "It's not my face that should be unsettling. You're the one putting things into cages." She surveys through the corridor in hopes of finding the exit.
Mr. Rory catches her at a dead end and returns her to the brig. Charlie astutely identifies him as someone who has "done time". She queries him about his method of enduring the rest of the Legends. His answer is simple: "Alcohol". The duo passes time drinking bottles of hooch he has obtained during a term at a Serbian gulag. Mr. Rory listens as Charlie discloses her experiences in the inter-dimensional prison. He tells her she has "balls to survive that hellhole". She recognizes he knows what it's like to pretend to be something worse than he is for survival. "Well, there's that," he divulges, "and there's finding someone you trust. I did time in supermax with my old partner. It's harder to plot against a team."
"I spent all my time shapeshifting and running. I never stuck around one place long enough to find anyone I could trust."
"Well, you got to start somewhere." Charlie mulls over his words once he walks out. Miss Tomaz reappears a bit later with him guzzling a beer bottle. They have received word from Captain Lance and company; the fugitive they're hunting is called a Shtriga. Charlie is familiar with it. "Very intelligent and very deadly. If you want my help, it's going to cost you." Miss Tomaz doesn't take her seriously until she notices the prisoner exchanging a look with Mr. Rory. "According to legend, Shtrigas are nasty old women, but the one I met in prison—the one you're looking for—is beautiful and a bloke." With that, Mr. Rory frees her. Miss Tomaz refuses this act, especially since she tried to break her face. However, as the reformed criminal puts it, "it's now or never". So, Charlie gets a bathroom break and a free drink, i.e., she takes Mr. Rory's. An irked Miss Tomaz relays the information to our four counselors.
The Shtriga is vanquished; the mission is a success. Captain Lance and Director Sharpe enter the parlour. Miss Tomaz is programming, while Mr. Rory is relaxing and drinking in a chair. The first mentioned addresses them, "Can't help but notice our magical friend is not where she's supposed to be."
"Oh, she's not," the computer specialist beguiles. "Rory, do you know anything about that?"
They direct their eyes toward him for an explanation. "You don't pay me enough to be a stinkin' prison guard."
"I don't pay you anything," the captain reminds.
"Well, I let fake Amaya go."
"Why did you do that," the director asks.
"Oh, in order to..." Miss Tomaz's tune quickly changes as she utters, "To have an extreme makeover." They all swing around to witness the reveal. Charlie has ditched the coveralls for a punk rock style. The reception is modestly positive.
"Thanks for the Shtriga tip," Captain Lance expresses.
"Well, if you had your hands full with a shtriga, I'd figured you need my help with whatever you plebs face next."
"Sounds like a mutually beneficial partnership." That's exactly what it is, Director Sharpe.
"One condition, though," Charlie demands, approaching the captain, "I never set foot in that cage ever again. Got it?" She agrees; thus begins a budding alliance. On the other end, Dr. Palmer has taken Mr. Constantine to the medbay. His body isn't responding to any of my treatments. "The odds of survival are bleak."
"John, what you did out there was pretty selfless. I told you that you were good." The astrophysicist snatches the unlit cigarette from the soothsayer's lips. "That's not good."
"Get some rest, John," Captain Lance recommends. "Gideon, give him the good stuff."
I inject a cocktail of strong medicants into the depleted warlock. "Oh, Gideon," he moans. "That's nice, love. We should party..." He dozes off before completing his statement. Sleep well, Mr. Constantine.
"He's getting worse," Dr. Palmer says to the captain. "The magic he used to save that camper was pretty powerful."
"Well, if magic has him on death's door, then maybe magic can save him."
"I think I know someone who can help, but I have no idea how to find her." We don't have to guess who the astrophysicist is talking about.