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skyward-floored · 7 months ago

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Swapped (Part 5)

I’ve been making a lot of progress on Incredibles au fics lately haha. Here we are at part five, checking in with the Wild, Hyrule, Twilight and Time group! Things are really picking up now...

Mild injury warning, along with a little violence and some guns being shot.

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Wild was dragging behind.

He knew he was, and it was driving him crazy, but moving faster took so much effort now. Was this how everybody else had to run? It was awful. His feet felt so heavy, and his arms too, and his head, and legs, and lungs... it was like his whole body had been stuck in a big vat of honey.

At least they could only go so fast anyway, considering that Twilight frequently lost control and careened into a wall. Wild felt bad for him, but also couldn’t help a few snickers at the frequency of his speed-related crashes. Especially with their dad in his arms. He made an awfully cute bunny.

Hyrule was the one he really felt bad for though. He still looked so shaken, and occasionally little panicked spurts of flurries escaped his fingertips. Wild would be the last to suggest his mom’s powers weren’t cool, but he was a teeny bit jealous that he hadn’t gotten ice to shoot out of his hands. Plus maybe Hyrule would be a little calmer without ice randomly spirting from his fingertips.

How come Mom can’t shoot horses out of her hands or something? That would be cool.

...I hope she and everyone else are okay.

“Wild, keep up,” his father called, and Wild bit back a growl when he realized just how far behind he was. Stupid scientist. Stupid mixed-up powers. Stupid—

Wild finally caught up with the others again, his dad giving him a sympathetic look. Wild ignored it, and kept plodding forward, trying to not think about his heavy feet. They were trying to make it to the elevator, Twilight sheepishly admitting he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle stairs, but it was taking forever to get down the hallway they were pretty sure led there.

As Wild dragged himself along, half-listening to Twilight talking to Hyrule, something hit his ear, a noise somewhere that he didn’t recognize. Wild stopped in his tracks, then tilted his head to try and listen to it.

It was something squeaky almost, a distant sound he couldn’t really make out too well. But something about what he could hear made him want to follow it, and... stop the sadness he could hear in the sound.

“Wild? Is something wrong?” Hyrule asked, looking back at him.

“No, I... maybe? I hear something,” Wild admitted, and they all drew to a stop.

“What kind of something?”

“Like... crying? Like someone’s upset? It’s not words, exactly, I... oh, maybe it’s an animal,” Wild realized. “Can Mom hear other animals too?”

“She can only really understand ones with hooves, but she can get the gist with other animals sometimes,” Twilight spoke up. “I mean, she understands me when I’m a wolf at least.”

“That’s merely because she’s had lots of practice with you,” their father spoke up, nose twitching. “And the blood relation likely affects that. But yes, she can somewhat understand other animals.”

Wild frowned and tilted his head again, listening.

“You said it sounded like crying?” Twilight asked worriedly, and Wild nodded.

“Yeah... sort of. It’s hard to explain.”

The noise he could hear was a squeaky sort of cry, faint, but just legible enough for Wild to make it out. And though there were no words, somehow he knew whatever was making the sound was afraid.

“I think I need to help it,” Wild said quietly, and Hyrule hesitated.

“But our powers...”

“I don’t think this’ll take long,” Wild reassured. Though it would take even less long if I had my proper powers. “And...” He turned towards a hallway, staring down it. “...I think it’s right over there.”

“I can hear it too,” Time said, and frowned, a floppy ear swiveling around. “It’ll be a quick detour, let’s go.”

“But our powers... ohh okay,” Hyrule sighed, and followed after them all.

Wild led the way, slow as he was, but he wasn’t thinking about it as much as he listened to the sound. It only got louder as he walked, and Wild focused all his attention on the whimpering squeaks ringing through the hallway. He came to a stop at one of the last doors in the hall, the noises obviously coming from behind it, and he turned the handle.

The door slowly moved open, Wild relieved it wasn’t locked. He cautiously poked his head inside, and along with his siblings and dad, looked around for any kind of threats.

The room that met him was dim, but there were enough lights for Wild to see. Small cages were set on various surfaces, all empty as far as Wild could tell, and nobody seemed to be in this room. Clipboards and beakers and random other pieces of equipment Wild didn’t recognize caught his eye, and he wandered among them in mild interest, still listening for the small cries as the others came in behind him.

He heard one, louder now that he was in the room, and followed the sound past some tables laden with big sciencey stuff he didn’t recognize.

Then he saw the last cage.

It was really small, maybe about as tall as two shoeboxes stacked together. Something pale was curled up inside of it, and as Wild stepped forward, a blue head rose up, golden eyes settling on him.

Wild froze as they locked gazes, and Twilight gasped.

“Oh my gosh. A blupee,” Twilight whispered as Wild approached the cage, his voice awed.

“A what?” Hyrule asked, and Twilight swallowed.

“A blupee, they’re legendary creatures, I’ve read about them in stuff. They were thought to either be extinct or just... not exist,” he whispered.

Time stood up in his arms to get a better look, and Wild hesitantly extended a hand, setting it against the bars of the cage. The little creature watched him in silence, and Wild murmured in a soothing way almost instinctively, which made its feathery antennae perk up.

It moved towards where Wild’s hand was pressed against the cage, and rubbed against it, silky fur brushing against his fingers.

“How did the scientist guy get one of these?” Wild asked in amazement, and Time hopped out of Twilight’s arms, sniffing around at some of the materials on the tables.

“I don’t know, I... this is crazy,” Twilight spluttered, his eyes huge as he watched Wild pet the blupee. “This is like— this is like finding a unicorn, Wild! Most people don’t think they ever even existed!”

“Cool,” Wild grinned, still petting. They had a handful of kid books still around the house that had blupees in them, and Wild would recognize the heart-shaped face and golden eyes anywhere. He looked around for the latch of the cage, and frowned at the signs of wear on the bars, tiny useless scratches made on them. “...It looks like he’s been here a while.”

“I think you’re right,” Time said grimly, and Wild looked over, quickly biting his lip to stop himself from laughing at his father. His head had turned invisible, and he obviously hadn’t realized it.

“Did you find something, Dad?” Hyrule asked with a smile he tried to hide, and Time hummed, and probably nodded as well.

“Yes. These are all notes on genes and cloning... I think this scientist made our friend here.”

Wild looked at the blupee again, and it stared back, cocking its head to the side as it looked at him. It’s face was almost owlish, heart-shaped and paler blue than the rest of its fur. It’s body was more rabbit-like, and between the color of its fur and the odd antennae-ear things on its head, it really did look like something out of a storybook rather than a real animal.

Yet I’m standing here petting it, he thought in wonder, running a finger along silky fur again.

“Well gene stuff would explain some things I guess,” Twilight murmured, hesitantly offering his finger for the blupee to sniff. “I wonder how he did it.”

“Beats me. Maybe— hey wait a second, why is he trying to mess with us?” Wild asked, frowning at the thought he’d just had. “He can make extinct animals! He could be using this technology for all kinds of good sciencey stuff, why do illegal things with it?”

“I don’t know. But perhaps he wasn’t just interested in cloning back practically mythical species,” Time frowned, his fuzzy head shimmering back into view. “He did seem rather obsessed with our powers. I think it’s even more important that we go stop him.”

“Agreed,” Twilight said as he turned around, then accidentally ran headlong into a table and went sprawling onto the ground with a bang. “...Ugh. The sooner the better.”

Twilight stumbled to his feet with Hyrule’s assistance, and Wild found the lock on the cage, jiggling it to try and open the latch. But it was shut tight, and Wild didn’t have anything he could pick the lock with. Not that he knew how to pick locks anyway.

“Oh come on,” he groaned, and Time peered at the latch, furry brow furrowed.

“Hyrule, do you think you could freeze the lock off?” he asked. Hyrule hesitated, looking at his hands, and then the cage.

“Maybe?” he said uncertainly, and Twilight smiled at him as he clutched at a table.

“I bet you can do it Rulie, it’s just some metal. No finesse required or anything.”

“Yeah, all you have to do it get it so cold that it falls off!” Wild encouraged, and Hyrule moved forward with a shrug.

“I’ll try.”

Hyrule put a hand on the latch, then screwed his face up, a handful of flurries sprinkling from his fingers. Feathers of ice began to spread across the metal, and Wild watched in interest as they grew thicker, and colder too. He had to pull back a little at the intense temperature, and snow began drifting from Hyrule’s hands, piling by his feet.

The blupee stepped back as well, and the minutes ticked by, ice spreading across the cage and to the table and floor below them. Wild was about to ask if they should try something else when Hyrule reached out and grasped the latch, obviously unbothered by the cold. He yanked on it, and the entire door snapped loose, leaving a hole in the cage where it had been.

“Nice job!” Twilight said with a grin, and Hyrule blushed, setting the destroyed handle down.

Wild didn’t stick around to listen to Hyrule insist it was no big deal when their father also congratulated him, moving forward towards the blupee. It let out what sound like a relieved chirp, slowly padding over to him and nuzzling against his hand.

Wild carefully picked it up, relieved when it didn’t resist him. It was weird that it was so comfortable with him, since it didn’t even have hooves... though Mom did tend to be a calming presence on all animals. Or maybe it was calmed by a fellow rabbity-thing being here? It did keep looking over at Time.

Time noticed as well, and he padded closer, his nose wiggling. The blupee looked at him, then softly chirped, Time pricking his ears.

“Yes? I— yes, I can hear you,” he replied, and the blupee repeated its chirp in a slightly different tone. “No, I’m not one of your kind, I’m sorry. You— really?”

The blupee chittered some more, and Time hummed along as it chirped, looking thoughtful.

“You can understand him? What’s he saying?” Wild asked, and his father twitched an ear.

“Mostly just questions about us. They’re not exactly words, I’m only getting the gist of most of it. He’s relieved we’re here, though. He says you’re calming Wild.”

“Wild, calming?” Twilight said, and Wild gave him a light kick. Twilight grinned, and the blupee nibbled at Wild’s hand a bit, then settled itself with a little sigh in his arms, eyes narrowing to small slits.

“He looks tired,” Hyrule said as he studied the blupee, peering over Wild’s shoulder. “You think he’s sick?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think he’s just... weak from being in a cage,” Wild said. Somehow he had a feeling the blupee needed to get outside, and be around plants and trees instead of cold metal and sanitizer. “Don’t worry, you can come with us, little guy.”

“Is that a good idea?” Hyrule asked, and Time shook himself, all of him finally visible again.

“We could leave him here and retrieve him later,” he suggested, but Twilight frowned.

“What if somebody comes in and sees the cage broken? And decides to move him? He’ll be safer with us,” he argued. Time sighed again.

“All right. We’ll bring him, and hopefully find a safe spot to put him if there’s a fight.”

“Oh there’s gonna be a fight,” Wild said darkly.

His father gave him a look, and Wild cleared his throat, but didn’t take it back. He thought he deserved at least one solid punch to the scientist guy’s face. If nothing else for the look on Hyrule’s face when he’d first woken up and realized his powers were gone.

“I don’t think there’s anything else for us to do here, let’s head out,” Time decided, and they did one last quick sweep of the room, then headed back out to the hallway. Time directed them towards the elevator, and Wild kept the blupee securely in his arms, its eyes staying mostly closed.

Its fur was soft and silky, almost like velvet, and while it was warm, it wasn’t as warm as Wild would’ve expected. The golden antennae brushed against his face once, and they were as feathery as they looked. It really was a fantastical-looking creature, and Wild still couldn’t quite believe it was real.

And neither could Twilight, based on the fact that he spent most of his time staring at it.

“Say Dad, do you think we could have a pet?” Wild asked innocently, and Time shot him a look as they all piled in the elevator.

“No.”

Hyrule pushed the button for the top floor, and Time began talking strategy for when they found the scientist. Hyrule had to take him from Twilight since his legs were jittering weirdly again and their father’s voice kept shaking due to it, and between that and his squeakier than normal voice, his words were impossible to make out. Wild for once listened intently, idly petting the blupee as Time went on about strategy. Normally he’d only half-listen to the plan and go along with his pieces of it, but this was a big deal. Powers were on the line.

Wild didn’t even want to consider what would happen if they couldn’t get them back.

“We’ll try and touch base with the others, but if nobody is there, we’ll go alone,” Time finished, and shook out his fur. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, are uh... you going to fight as a bunny?” Twilight asked, and their father’s face grew extremely annoyed.

“Seeing as I can’t figure out how to turn back... yes.”

The elevator chimed as Twilight began asking if he wanted any help, the top floor reached, and Wild cracked his knuckles as the doors opened.

Then froze, an entire group of guards waiting for them on the other side.

Someone gasped, and Time shouted for them to get down, Wild tripping when he instinctively went to run forward and do something before the guards could react. Argh! Stupid powers!

The guards aimed their guns, and everybody dove for the floor, Wild mashing the elevator button to try and get the doors to close.

Nothing happened, and Hyrule scrambled forward and put out his hands, obviously trying to make a shield. All that came out was a huge blast of ice right as the first guards fired, but it actually did a good job of keeping their shots from hitting them, and Hyrule hurriedly worked on making the barrier more solid, trying to thicken the ice.

Twilight suddenly bolted forward, his legs flailing, but he managed to aim a punch at the first guard he went by, the man going sprawling from the hit to his chin. Wild scrambled over to where their dad was standing behind Hyrule, obviously trying to change back into a hylian if the look on his face was any indication.

“Ideas?!” Wild asked in a panic, Hyrule scrambling to keep his ice up and protecting them. “The elevator won’t close!”

“They must have disabled it, they were expecting us,” Time said in dismay, flinching as Twilight narrowly dodged a strike. “We’ll have to break past them somehow.”

“Oh, easy,” Wild muttered, ducking down as something whizzed past his head. The blupee squeaked in distress, and he held it a little tighter, making sure his suit was shielding it. “Maybe Twi can—”

Hyrule suddenly cried out beside them, making both their heads shoot up.

Hyrule stumbled backwards, hand held to the small part of his neck that wasn’t covered by his suit, and Wild saw a dart stuck there, brightly colored on the end.

Tranquilizer.

Well at least they don’t want us dead! Wild thought hysterically as Hyrule swayed on his feet.

His legs abruptly gave out on him, and Time rushed to his side, Twilight still running around wildly on the other side of the ice and doing his best to fight. Wild dove for Hyrule as well, hiding behind the thickest piece of ice there was, and the blupee chittered fearfully, huddling down in his arms.

“You’re okay, it’s just a tranquilizer,” Time reassured in a voice Wild could tell he was forcing to be calm, Hyrule’s eyes looking bleary and terrified. “You’ll wake up soon. It’ll be okay.”

Hyrule shook a little as Time stayed huddled beside him, keeping a paw resting on his head, and then his eyes rolled back and slipped close, body going limp.

“Dad?” Wild asked in a small voice, and Time slowly breathed out.

“See if you can get to Twilight, that’s your best bet,” he said, giving him a steady look, then raised his head, glaring at the guards.

Then he leapt out from their icy shield, throwing himself at the nearest guard with a shout. The man yelped and tried to shake him off, but Time clung on to his clothing, scratching and biting wherever he could reach.

Wild watched him with wide eyes, then shifted the blupee around so he was holding it with one arm. He tugged Hyrule’s limp form up with his other, grunting from the effort, but he wasn’t going to leave him here. Dad had said to get to Twilight, so that’s what Wild would do.

With the vague plan they’d had currently in shambles, Wild was pretty sure their best bet now was to make a break for it in the other direction, and hopefully Twilight could carry Hyrule better than he could until he woke up.

“Hold on Rulie,” Wild grunted.

He got as good of a grip as he could on his brother, and then bolted out from behind the ice, cursing his maddeningly slow legs. It felt like he was barely making any progress, and he growled in frustration as he half-dragged Hyrule across the floor.

If I had my powers I’d be on the other side of the room by now no problem, Hyrule would be safe, Twilight wouldn’t have to be tripping around all crazily, Dad wouldn’t—

A guard noticed him and shouted, Time and Twilight no longer capturing all of their attentions. Wild yelped and ducked under a shot that grazed the tip of his ear, and hurried even faster, dodging and swerving all while trying not to drop Hyrule or the blupee.

He’d never missed his speed more.

A sharp pain suddenly hit Wild in the neck, and he gasped, stumbling as he felt at it. Something was stuck there, and Wild abruptly caught his father’s eye from across the room, a cold feeling running up his neck.

“No!” Time shouted, his tiny body flickering rapidly in and out of sight, but Wild could barely focus on him, his legs wobbling out from under him.

He stumbled, going to his knees but still holding tight to Hyrule. The blupee jumped out of his arms, squeaking in distress, but the noise faded in and out in Wild’s ears, his vision starting to give out.

“Duskfall! Get out of here and go find the others!” Time’s voice shouted, Wild blearily noting Twilight’s hero name. Wonder why he used that...

“I’m not going to—whooaa—leave you guys!” Twilight shouted back, barely avoiding losing his balance as he dodged a shot. “Not like this!”

“That’s an order! We need backup, and you’re the only one of us who can run!”

“But Wild and—”

Most of the guards were focused on Twilight now, but not all of them, and as Wild sank more fully to the floor, he thought he heard their father cry out in pain.

“No!”

More shouting rang past his ears, but Wild was beyond the point of understanding. His vision was growing darker by the second, his senses deserting him, and all he could see was a blob of movement where his father had been moments before.

I’m sorry, Dad.

With the last of his strength, Wild made sure Hyrule’s head was protected, and then he fell back into darkness.

#Incredibles au #Incredibles au fic #linkeduniverse #linked universe #IAU wild #IAU Hyrule #IAU Twilight #IAU Time #writing from the floor #I’m thinking there’ll be maybe two or three more chapters #definitely two #oh wait I forgot the extra Sky one there will definitely be three maybe four more #well anyway #sorry for the cliffhanger mwahahahahehehdndbdhdhdg

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corkinavoid · 2 months ago

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DPxDC Ignorantia Neminem Excusat

(Ignorance excuses no one, lat.)

"Commissioner."

Jim Gordon doesn't jump. They are years and years into this rodeo, he's stopped actually jumping at Batman's silent approach a long time ago. Yet, Bruce still notices the way his shoulders twitch just the tiniest bit, and his hand makes an aborted motion to his gun holster. Still got it.

The man turns around. Bruce can see the 'must you always do that?' in his slightly narrowed eyes. He presses his lips tightly together in order to not smirk: Batman doesn't do that, even if it's admittedly funny to see the seasoned Commissioner get spooked every time.

"There's a kid that wants to speak with you."

Bruce frowns. A kid that warranted a BatSignal? Not that he minds, but this is highly unusual for several reasons; however, Jim is not the kind of man that would fall for puppy eyes of any level, so it must be something more important than an autograph session or a victim of any of the recent cases.

Besides, the way Commissioner worded it implies that the kid, whoever they are, requested Batman specifically.

"He is a hacker," Jim puts both his hands in the pockets of his coat — he is either cold or uncomfortable, and Bruce highly suspects it's both. What's more, he starts to understand why. "I'm sure you're aware we were trying to track the person responsible for the few recent cyber attacks on GCPD servers," Jim glances at him, and Bruce nods. He is aware, yes, but the case was low-priority — it wasn't even an attack, really, someone just accessed the system foregoing the passwords and clearance levels, went through a few files, seemingly at random, and did a fairly decent job of hiding their traces. Bruce would have even thought it was Tim, if this happened a few years ago, when the boy was just learning the ropes.

Commissioner sighs and looks away, "But when we brought him in, the boy said he will only speak to you, and none of us have been able to make him say a word since." He pauses, a grim kind of expression on his face, "This was six hours ago."

Bruce is grateful for the way his cowl hides how his eyebrows raise. There are hundreds of scripts officers, detectives, and social workers can use to establish contact. Quite a lot of them could be attempted in the span of six hours.

Whatever the kid wants to tell him, Bruce decides it's worth a try. If not anything else, he can at least admire the sheer stubbornness.

—×—×—×—

The kid sitting in the interrogation room looks... younger than Bruce expected. Fifteen, maybe sixteen. He is dressed like any other homeless kid in Gotham — a hoodie and a jacket over it, jeans that look a size too big on him, sneakers with mismatched shoelaces — but he clearly hasn't been out in the streets for that long. His hair is braided into cornrows, and it looks professional, even if the roots have grown out so now it's just messy. What's more, he is missing that telltale wariness in his posture that Bruce has seen in every other street kid that has been brought into a police station. They always slouch and curl into themselves.

This boy is sitting with his back straight. Yet, there's a tension in his body that Bruce can only associate with a battle stance — give him the slightest reason, and the kid will lunge.

He steps into the room.

The boy — he hadn't given a name, and there wasn't a single ID on him — zeroes on him instantly. His eyes are a very pale, almost translucent green: a rather strange feature for a black-skinned person, genetically speaking, but Bruce doesn't dwell on it. Yet.

But then, the face recognition program comes up empty.

As in, 'there's not a trace of this person's prior existence' empty. Not a single camera footage, no records or reports of missing, no pictures, no social media, nothing. Bruce frowns.

"Hi," the kid says, his voice raspy, "My name is Tucker Foley. According to the government, I don't exist, so if your recognition program doesn't find anything on me, that's why."

Bruce doesn't say anything. Tucker wanted to speak with him, and previously, he was only merely intrigued by that request. However, as of right now, he wants to hear everything the kid has to say before asking any follow-up questions.

Because that always present, cautious and bordering on paranoid voice in the back of his mind tells him he is about to get into something way more serious than he expected.

Tucker moves — he kept both his hands on the table, palms open and visible, but now he closes one into a fist. Although, before Bruce can react to it, he opens it again. A small, the size of a flash-drive, dimly glowing green object rests inside.

"Do you know what this is?" The boy asks. He hasn't looked away from Batman's face once; Bruce is not even sure he blinked at all since he entered the room. Come to think of it, even with his tense, rigid posture, Tucker is too still, almost unnervingly so.

Bruce glances down to the boy's hand.

"Yes," he answers curtly, and there it is, the smallest shift in Tucker's face: he clenches his jaw like he's trying to hold the words inside his mouth. Bruce doesn't like it.

"What is it?" Comes the next question, but it's not curiosity that prompts it. It's a test of some sort. Bruce likes that even less.

"A power source," he decides on a neutral answer, not entirely certain what the boy is expecting to hear.

It seems to be a wrong answer because for the first time, Tucker's emotions slip from under his mask, and he takes a sharp breath in, looking like Bruce had just slapped him across the face. It lasts only a moment — Tucker closes his eyes for a moment, slowly exhales, and speaks again, calm and focused once more.

"And what exactly powers it?"

It's an important question, judging by the desperate, searching look in Tucker's eyes. His hands are not shaking, and there are no visible signs of distress, but for some reason, Bruce just knows that the boy's whole life seems to depend on the answer.

But.

"It's classified." Bruce doesn't take his eyes off the boy, but he still fails to see when he gets to his feet; the movement is quicker than the blink of an eye. All he knows is the aftermath of it, the screech of the chair legs on the floor and the loud slam of Tucker's palms on the table.

"Fuck the classified!" The boy yells, his face twisting in an awful mix of anger, hurt and a broken, terrified sort of hopelessness that almost breaks Bruce from the inside. "I need to know what they've told you, I have to- Tell me you think it's just a battery! Tell me you've never broke one to see what's inside, tell me you believe in science! They've showed you the research, didn't they?" Tucker's voice, so agonizingly different from the composed way he was talking before, breaks into a sobbing, almost hysterical laugh. His pale eyes are wide open and almost panicked, searching Batman's face for something he is not sure he can find.

"Tell me you've never seen one being made," this time, the boy doesn't yell, he whispers, his breath hitching and his knuckles white. "Please," he adds a moment later, and Bruce knows this kind of plea.

It's the plea of someone who is begging for the world to have mercy on them. A plea of a boy standing on their parents' grave, a plea of a man kneeled in front of his son's corpse.

Bruce swallows the bitter taste on the back of his tongue and takes a step closer. He sees the boy in front of him lean back and bend his knees, like bracing for impact, but he answers before any more misunderstandings can occur.

"I have seen the research. It provided enough information that I've never investigated further," he offers, and Tucker's shoulders slump like months and months of living in a constant state of fight-or-flight leaving his body all at once. Then, the boy's hands start trembling just slightly.

"Really?" He quietly asks, his eyes still glued to Batman, and there it is, the hesitant, uncertain hint of hope in his voice.

Bruce suddenly feels like not only this talk will be much, much worse than he ever feared, but also like in the end this will be another one of the things he will be blaming himself for. Things he could have prevented if he just tried a little harder.

"Really," he nods, taking a seat opposite from Tucker. "So explain what I've missed."

The boy keeps looking at him for a few more seconds, like trying to x-ray his thoughts for any sign of a lie. But then he blinks — for the first time, maybe — and rubs his face with his palm before all but dropping back in his own seat.

"Okay," he breathes out, evidently trying to collect himself and go back to the strong, focused self, "Okay."

[ part 2 -> ]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #batman #bruce wayne #tucker foley #commisioner gordon #the idea was that giw uses ghosts as batteries #promoting them as a source of clean energy #but they are essentislly just trapping ghosts inside specifically designed containers and sell them #i may or may not write a part two of this #where danny is the power source for the watchtower #however if this sparks an inspiration for a completely different kind of angst for you #feel free to add on #angst #giw #tucker had a very rough couple of months #he escaped amity and made it all the way to gotham in hopes that batman would help him #because hes definitely liminal so he should care because anti-ecto acts apply to him and his family #also this was off-screen but tucker leaving traces for gcpd to find him was intentional #he needed to get the attention #cork prompts

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