#goodfish writes

[goodfish-bowl]

Check Your Sources

DP Side Hoes Week 2024 Master Post

Day 2: Jazz Fenton - university times

Summary: Jazz has a misunderstanding with a professor over her selected topic for her paper.

Word Count: 1271

AO3 Link

Jazz Fenton had remembered turning in her psychology paper on ecto-psychology, particularly the role of obsessions in the mental state of Ecto-entities, with utmost confidence. She had meant it as a draft for the final paper she intended to published after the completion of her degree. She had already sent in her paper on Ghost Envy for her application to the college, and it was currently in the process of being peer-reviewed, so she needed something new for her current psychology paper. She had compiled the information for it during her last trip to Amity Park, and organized it into this assignment, including multiple citations both within the ecto-science fields and otherwise, to make sure her paper was well-rounded. She had quadruple-checked everything, from her grammar, to her formatting, to the way she cited each of her sources. 

For these reasons, Jazz was absolutely confounded by the red ink and stark zero written at the top of her returned paper. There was a sticky note attached, telling her to talk to the professor after class.

Jazz glanced between her paper, and the professor in horror. During the course of the term, Jazz had developed a deep respect for Dr. Kaplan, and her work on the psychology of people with PTSD. She must have a good reason for giving her such a poor grade, but the fact she received it at all filled her with mortification. She had never gotten a grade so low in her entire education. Jazz needed to know why, but she couldn’t even figure out what she had done wrong in the first place. In the corner of her mind, she had a sinking suspicion, but hoped with everything she was wrong. 

Jazz spent the entire class in a tizzy. Constantly flipping back and forth between the day’s class-work and her paper. Outside of the first page, the rest of the paper was completely unmarked. Frustration began to simmer underneath Jazz’s skin. How was she supposed to fix this if the professor never even told her what she did wrong?! But it would be fine… she was meeting with the teacher after class anyways. 

From that point forward, class moved forward at a crawl. Jazz still couldn’t pay much attention, and found her notes were much less organized than she would prefer. But when the professor dismissed them, Jazz practically darted to Dr. Kaplan’s podium. 

The professor was a thin, wiry woman, dressed professionally, and looked down upon Jazz from behind equally wiry glasses. She gave Jazz a hard-look, almost one of disdain, and it was only the years of facing the nightmares of Amity Park that kept her from physically recoiling. She removed her eyes from Jazz and gazed around the still-emptying classroom. 

“It might be better to have this conversation in my office,” Dr. Kaplan stated, leaving the room, with Jazz practically at her heels. 

Dr. Kaplan’s office was a fair reflection of the woman herself. Neutral colors, her degree on display, and psychology books lining her singular bookshelf. Her desk was dark wood, and chairs cushions a beige leather. The plant sitting by the window was fake. It was all very professional, and at the same time very impersonal and lifeless. Despite the light colors and the sunlight streaming in through the window blinds, the atmosphere was near stifling. 

The professor took her seat behind the desk, and Jazz hesitated, waiting until Dr. Kaplan gestured for her to take a seat. The seats were more stylish than they were comfortable. She gingerly set her paper on the edge of the desk, sitting board-straight in the chair. 

“Ms. Fenton,” Dr. Kaplan practically sighed, “is there a reason you’re not taking my class seriously?”

The question came completely unexpected. “What are you talking about, Dr. Kaplan? I’ve been giving this class my best efforts,” Jazz pleaded. 

Dr. Kaplan frowned, tapping her carefully manicured, neutrally colored nails against her paper. “This assignment says otherwise.”

Jazz frowned, mentally skimming over the paper. “I… I don’t understand. I’ve followed the assignment criteria almost exactly, I’ve even collected first-hand observations.”

Dr. Kaplan looked like she had sucked a lemon. “Ah, yes,” she said flatly. “Ms. Fenton, while you’ve followed the semblance of the rubric for this assignment to a near exceptional degree, a paper on the theoretical psychology of fictional beings is hardly an acceptable paper topic.” 

 Ah, there it was. Jazz had suspected as much, but it still didn’t calm the simmering frustration, boiling into anger under her skin. 

“Honestly,” Dr. Kaplan continued, “for such a brilliant girl, I can only see the submission of a paper like this as a lack of care, and simply unprofessional to boot. To go as far as to make up sources, as properly cited as they are, is simply-”

It was taking everything within Jazz not to blow up in her professor’s face. Her nails were starting to bite into her palms, and her teeth felt sharp in her mouth as she grit them. Had Dr. Kaplan stopped at the whole ‘ghosts aren’t real’ bit, it wouldn’t have been anything she hadn’t heard before. But to accuse her of lying, and making up sources, that was getting a bit too close to unforgivable. She was losing any respect she had for this professor with every word out of her mouth. 

“Those are real sources and I have recordings of the data I collected myself,” Jazz had to keep herself from hissing. “You’re welcome to check my sources. Of course, due to the analog nature of the recordings, they will require a tape player to view. As for the other second and third hand sources, they are all from qualified journals.” 

“I admire the lengths you’ve gone to make your work of fiction as realistic as possible however-”

“Have you heard of Amity Park before?” Jazz could not stop herself from growling out the question, shooting to her feet, unable to take this sitting down any longer. “Have you done any research to support your claim over mine?”

Dr. Kaplan had a deer-in-headlights expression as Jazz towered over her desk, while also simultaneously adding the only color to her entire office through the reddening of her face. “Are you delusional? Ghosts aren’t real.”

Jazz felt what little ectoplasm that lived under her skin hum in tune with her rage as she slammed a hand down onto the desk, crinkling her paper underneath her wrath. This wasn’t about the grade anymore.

 “Ecto-science is a pseudo-science at worst. It is young and mostly unexplored, but it is hardly fictional. Psychology used to occupy the very same space not too long ago. If you had done any research to check your biases, you would have found this out.” 

Something was burning. 

Jazz quickly snatched her paper back into her hands, gritting her teeth, and reigning in her anger as fast as she could. She cleared her throat hard enough for it to sound like a snarl. 

“It appears your classroom will no longer be a conductive learning environment for me,” Jazz spoke evenly, tone carefully measured. “It would do you well to actually look into the topics your students write about.”

Jazz collected her things, already mentally filing out the required paperwork and emails to the Registar’s Office to have her transferred to a different class. She moved to the doorway and gave her professor a polite nod, ignoring the gobsmacked look on Dr. Kalplan’s face. 

“Have a nice afternoon, Professor.”

Jazz fled the room, dead set in ignoring the hand-shaped burn she had left on her professor’s desk and the smoldering paper in her hands.

[tsubaki94]

Janitors Closet (Colored)

@green-with-envy-phandom-event is over and it's time to compile all the amazing art that has been colored (and do it myself) this one was in the gore chatagory.

Starting off we have @marzfartz making this version with hard shadows and glowing ectoplasm. Gives me the horror movie vibes .

Next up was @eldritch-m0th who with this version went traditional with pencils and subtle shading. Love how you changed the directions of the pencil on the different surfaces.

Here's another one by @half-deadmagicperson coloring this version. Giving it an unsettling feeling and adding some nice writing on the wall. Love it when artists do that.

And here's @nanaarchy with this version that I think started the hit that someone was opening the door. It really goes into that deep darkness with the glowing green popping and Danny's eyes being somehow completely dead.

Another traditional media (or mixed media) was done by @jamiethebeeart who did this version. Creating so many details that I want to know the story behind what happened!

Coming in at the end is @goodfish-bowl with this version. I at once noticed the red and blue them. All the work which went into the shading and highlights and then I notice that the ectoplasm only shows in the shadow which is also where Danny's eye is green, cheffs kiss.

[flutteringdreams-matw]

Reads for this week:

Mask by @another-shameless-fangirl

Eclipsing Binary by @snippyschnapps

Not a Weapon by @cleanlenins

Something to be Said by @quirkless-accident

Ectober Day 17: Found Footage by @goodfish-bowl

hell of a ride by @wastefulreverie

Dead not Mourned by @the-rotting-professor

The Red Veangeance Project by @darthfrodophantom (just made it on! Brand new)

Also still reading Anniversary by @deathcomes4u as a few chapters have popped up this week AND Trust your Instincts by @peachdoxie cause oof things are getting tense!

I did also spend a lot of time rereading my own stuff this week - but more on that in the writing section.

Writing for this week:

Another installment of The Road to Normal: Claw of the Wild II. In which Danny lets slip that he’s been arrested before. Maddie is not amused. Jack has questions. 

And of course - the end of an era. The last Chapter of Out of Time has been posted - meaning the main story of the Ecto-Storm Series is complete. I spent 15 years of my life planning and writing (on and off) for this world and series so I am very conflicted about it ending. I certainly hope I did it justice. More to come on that later I think.

[ladylynse]

There are many talented artists and writers out there. I’ve been fortunate enough to have been gifted a few things over the years and decided that I wanted a post to keep track of them because they’re all awesome.

Fanart by @naevre

Crossroads cover (GFxOtGW) (collab)

MLxDP crossover art (still tentatively called Le Fantôme)

Whirlwind art (Secret Quartet - ML/RC9GN/ADJL/DP)

Danny as the Ninja (Reflections - DPxRC9GN)

Numerous Reflections-related art (DPxRC9GN)

Fanart by WhiteWolfGirl91

Reflections cover (DPxRC9GN)

Fanart by @zend-pixie 

Reflections scene (DPxRC9GN)

Fanart by @dannyphandump

Inspired by Turning Point (DP) I mean not technically a gift because it’s for Ectober but if I can write fic that inspires fanart I’m counting it

Together art (DP)

Fanart by @goodfish-bowl

Danny Fenton with his ‘wand’ (DP/HP twin AU) I’m counting this as a gift because I can okay

Fanart by @acewithapaintbrush

Danny Fenton with his ‘wand’ (DP/HP twin AU)

Fanart by @fureliselost

National Believe in a Ghost Day (DP) not technically a gift but I’m counting it because a comic!!!!

Fanart by @danon-in-c

Jazz has magic aka Jazz Fenton and the Arcane Awakening (DP/HP)

Fanart by @wsoupofpain/@this-is-z-art-blog

Illusory (DP/GF) - for Ectoberweek 2023, October 25

Fanart by @imadumdumjewel

Viceroy (RC9GN) Reflections scene of Randy vs the Sorcerer (RC9GN/DP, just RC9GN in the fanart)

Fanart by @schwoopsiedoodles

Phantasmagoria (DP)

Fanart by Anon

Huntsclan!Jake (Unbound, ADJL, Huntsclan!Jake AU)

Art by @oopsyourotphassunk

Rose (it’s a pretty flower, okay?)

Podfic by @the-only-wife

Illusory (DP/GF)

Podfic by WhaleKingdom/BadFeelin

Mirrored (DP/ADJL)

Fic by @azthedragon

Penpals (DP/RC9GN)

DP/BNHA crossover 

Fic by @sach216 

Matching Traits (RC9GN) I’m counting this because you finished for my birthday

Board by @anotherdpdump

Based off The Trouble with Ghosts (DP)

Fic by @sapphireswimming

Valerie-centric (DP) 

Fic by Anon

Danny’s wallet thievery (DP)

Vlad commissions the Ghost Writer (DP)

[wickedlolaart]

This is what a Residential School Survivor looks like in 2019, my Mother is still living, she's still breathing, she's still healing. But through it all she has found ways to smile and be happy again through her grandchildren. Still today she is a fluent Cree speaker, they couldn't steal her native tongue away, she takes pride in her language and Cree culture. This is my Mother Noreen Jackson, she was born March 2nd 1959, the mud house she is standing in front of is the home she grew up in as a child. She is a Residential School Survivor. She was sent to Pakan Residential Day School in Goodfish Lake First Nation in Alberta, Canada in 1965, when she was only 5 years old. This is her twin Doreen Mindus and her statement of the treatment that they suffered while attending. " In 1965 we went to Pakan Residential School in Goodfish Lake. Our first day our Mother walked us 2 miles on a gravel road. The nuns told us we had to cut our hair. We we're reapeately beaten with a strap and yardstick, and our hair was pulled. We we're hit on our backs for doing things like speaking Cree or if they felt like we weren't listening. We were verbally abused on a daily basis. The nuns and priest would not let us use the washrooms when we needed to. We did not deserve the awful treatment.we didn't receive formal education. The nuns would just hand out books for us to do alone. If we made any mistakes or errors they would beat us harder. We we're not taught how to read or write. When I read my mother's and her twins statement I was so heartbroken for them, no child should deserve the treatment they and thousands of others suffered. My mother is a survivor.... She is a warrior woman, after everything she's been through as a child she still found it in her heart to forgive those her done her wrong. Not because she loves her enemy but because she loves herself and children, her strong spirit was always forgiving. She still holds her head high with pride in her heart for her culture. I admire her Cree spirit, her love for the land and her culture, her passion for her language is inspiring and still speaks fluently today. Her Mother and the Creator imprinted her heart and that is what always kept her sprit alive. Yes they tried to steal her love away, Yes they tried tainting her spirit with hate, Yes they tried filling her mind with rage, but my mother learnt to love again. Today I am wearing my orange shirt to honour our Residential school survivors, my mother, my family members, community members, Indigenous people and those who didn't make it home. Thank you Lynda Olsen for the wonderful photos. Bonnie Steinhauer Kiya Bruno

[good-fishing]

📓🖊 GF STUDIO NOTEBOOK (back cover detail) -- a clean, straightforward design, perfect for all your writing and planning needs. 80 pages graph paper, Made in USA. 💲7️⃣. Attractively Simple. 👍🎣 ----- #goodfishing #good #fishing #gfstandards #studionotebook #notebook #notebooks #writing #office #studio #school #schoolsupplies #instagood #simple #unstoppablepositivity #goodstuff #lesgeaux #attractivelysimple

[goodfish-bowl]

Never Really Knew (DP x DC)

DP Side Hoes Week 2024 Master Post

Day 5: Dani - self-defense

Summary: There were plenty of things she knew, but it was all things that had been downloaded into her head. There was very few things that Dani had actually experienced in her extremely short life. Dani’s trip after being freed from Vlad goes well until it takes a turn into Gotham, New Jersey. Takes place after "Kindred Spirits", but before "D-Stabilized".  

Word Count: 2173

AO3 Link

Dani had known that traveling by herself would be dangerous. She knew it in the same way she knew advanced mathematics and classic literature. It was knowledge she had but had never experienced, programmed and downloaded into her head. She knew a lot of things this way, and very few things the other way. Dani had wanted to experience everything, to learn the way everyone else did. But she hadn’t known, not really, just how dangerous this task would be for her. She doubted Danny knew either, or he probably wouldn’t have let her go. 

Dani wasn’t having any trouble with money, so to say, Vlad’s credit card covered that, but there were very few places that would both accept credit and let a 12-year-old rent a room for the night. So while she was good on food and any other thing, shelter was a lot harder to manage. It had been fun, at first, buying a tent and camping equipment, and staying at parks while she explored the area, but yet again, a 12-year-old couldn't rent out a campground, so it was a bit riskier every night she stayed. If she stayed in the wrong place or too long, she would get chased out. She lost a few tents this way. She lost a few more to thefts that happened while she was out and about. 

The campground was fine when she was just about, but they weren’t always an option, like in the bigger cities, where she was now. Normally, Dani was able to keep her head low, and hang out on a rooftop for the night, but that wasn’t really a good option with vigilantes of Gotham frequenting those spaces too. She had to find a different place to sleep for the night, which she supposes is what got her into this whole mess too. That and not knowing, to an instinctual degree, that she should not have come to Gotham all alone. 

Dani had bunked down for the night in one of the many abandoned buildings around, even setting up her cot and some of her other camping equipment. This was not where she had woken up. 

Dani woke up with a full body ache and a piercing migraine, and immediately curled up on herself with a soft hiss. Everything hurt. Slowly, as Dani came to, her senses faded back into focus. It smelt generally terrible, like BO and urine, along with the faint tinge of mold and cigarettes. There was the sound of someone else crying near her, whimpering, and the more distant sound of laughter. She could feel the bare concrete under her as it tried to drain away what little body heat she actually produced. Her tongue tasted vile in her mouth, still full of fuzz with a metallic aftertaste in the back of her throat.

Dani was locked in a dark, generally dingy cell, with the only light coming from a yellow street light that managed to crawl in through the basement window, and a white fluorescent light that climbed under the door. There were a few other kinds locked up in here with her, in various stages of crying or passed out. Some of them were hurt, bad. Dani had been kidnapped in the worst city to be kidnapped. 

Slowly, feeling her whole body protest, Dani pushed herself to a kneeling position, drawing the other kids' eyes to her. She gave them a shaky smile that probably looked closer to a grimace. Dani felt her clothes and found that all the belongings she kept in her packets were gone. Darn, no more credit card. No more anything, really. Well, that sucked, but it wasn’t like they could keep her here for long, ghost powers and all that. Dani should get out as soon as she can, and run for the hills. She was sure whoever had captured her wouldn’t even notice one less child.

Dani strained her ears to listen to the voices from under the door, but a sniffle from one of the other kids in the room stopped her in her tracks, shutting down her plan of running out alone. Stupid Danny and his stupid protective streak. She would have to figure out how to get them all out together, and probably fast if the pick up in activity from under the door was any indication. Dani went over to the window, straining to look out of it, trying to figure out where it let out. 

“Hey,” Dani whispered. “Do any of you know where we are?”

There was a soft murmuring among the other children, before a scruffy-looking boy answered her in a thick Gotham accent. “Somewhere in Crime Alley. That window has metal bars in it, no way to get out from there.”

Dani hissed under her breath, letting go of the window sill from where she was straining to lift herself onto it. 

“Do you know where it leads?” She followed up. 

“Just some scummy alley.”

Dani nodded, that was at least something good, no one would notice if she passed some of the others through intangibly. 

“Okay, I can get us out,” Dani declared, keeping her voice intentionally low. 

“How do you plan to do that? You a meta or something?” one of the slightly older girls demanded. 

“Something like that,” Dani answered sheepishly. “Come on, I can take us directly through the wall,” Dani gestured through the window. 

The others were too scared to protest, and slowly Dani began to file them one to two at a time through the wall, into the alley above. Every trip burned through her reserves, and she hadn’t noticed just how many of them were in the cell with her. After the fourth trip, Dani felt fragile, only able to pass the boy with the thick local accent through, but not able to go through herself, she would hurt herself if she tried.

“Butter biscuits… I can’t get out, I’m out of energy,” Dani called out. She was going to have to figure a way out, no powers unless absolutely necessary, she might risk destabilization otherwise. 

The boy peered down at her from the window, looking grim. “I’ll go get help,” he stated before leaving her all alone in the room. 

Dani let herself drop to the ground as soon as he was gone. She felt so tired, vaguely ill, and tried her best not to not fall back asleep, but still get a little bit more rest before the rest of her grand escape. She spent those minutes listening to the voices as best as she could, planning. She really shouldn’t use her powers for the next bit, but Dani also really needed her stuff back. It would have to be worth the risk, it was the only way she could really afford anything. All she needed was just her wallet with the card in it. Everything else could be replaced, emergency cellphone included. She might have a window to get it when whatever help that boy had mentioned showed up. 

The voices on the other side of the door grew frantic along with an even more distant sound of gunshots and shattering glass. The door slammed open, causing Dani to fall onto her back in fright. The man’s eyes were blown wide in fear, teeth bared. His eyes narrowed as he probably noticed the lack of children in the room, and spat out a nasty curse before his eyes locked onto her. 

“Fuck it, we only need one hostage, a half-dead brat will have to do,” the man spat, practically snatching her up by the arms, causing Dani to cry out in pain. 

Dani had to scrunch up her eyes under the artificial white lights, leading into an open warehouse. She struggled for just a second before there was something cold and metal pressing against her temple. 

“Try it, brat, and your brains will be blown out all over the floor,” the man growled, and Dani froze. 

It was a gun. Dani knew it was a gun, and finally, it sunk in just how much danger she was really in, and tears began to run down her face. She didn’t want to die! She had only just begun to learn how to live in the first place. She needed more than a few months to figure herself out!  

The man didn't do anything as Dani began to cry, but one of the other roughly dressed goons in the room, holding an even bigger gun, sent the one holding her a dirty look, before a confused realization passed over him. 

“Where the other kids?” The other guy asked. 

“Hell if I know. Only one left was this shrimp who looks well and ready to keel over. She’ll fucking have to do.” 

There was another loud bang as a door somewhere in the warehouse was thrown open. 

“Red Hood! Don’t fucking try it or I off the kid!” 

Dani strained to see through her tears and hysterics. Was this guy supposed to be her help? But Dani was already held hostage, how much help could this ‘Red Hood’ be?

“You know I don’t like people fucking around with kids on my turf,” a modulated, artificial voice spat. 

“Which is why you’re going to let us go, so that this little girl’s brains don’t end up splattered all over the ground,” The guy holding the bigger gun argued back. 

There was a creak from the rafters and the other guy opened fired, sending rounds into the ceiling. A large figure dropped down, returning fire as they fell. Dani’s eyes widened at the heavily armed figure in a red helmet and leather jacket. He was both the coolest and most terrifying person Dani had ever seen. The guy with the bigger gun went down with only a few well-aimed shots. 

Red Hood towered over Dani’s current kidnapper, who pressed the gun harder into her temple, causing another wave of panic to go through her as her eyes strained to dart back and forth between the man holding her and her ‘savior’ who had just definitely killed someone. 

“There you are, you shitty bastard,” her kidnapper growled. “Now!”

Gunshots came from a completely different direction, catching Red Hood by surprise, but not before he managed to take out one of the two new assailants, and a stray bullet slammed into the arm holding the gun to Dani’s head. The man recoiled, practically tossing both her and the gun aside, forgotten. Dani ducked down, scrambling the best she could away from the center of the fight, but exhaustion and a horrible pinch in her ankle weighed down on her entire being. 

Dani looked back after hearing a few more gunshots. The guy who had been holding her was dead, but Red Hood had taken a couple of hits himself, stuck kneeling as the final kidnapper pointed his gun directly at Red Hood. He was going to be killed, and then Dani knew she would quickly follow him. Panic seized her body and core, dredging up what little energy it could. She couldn’t let Red Hood be killed, Dani didn’t want to die. 

 Dani dove for the gun that had been tossed away in her. The knowledge of how to use a gun quickly clicked into place, just like all of those other things she knew and had never experienced. Dani was keen on never feeling the chill of a live firearm in her hands again, nor the image of the man dropping dead from a clean shot as she fired. 

The gun clattered to the ground and Dani was well aware that Red Hood was full-on staring at her beneath his helmet. 

“Kid-” the modulated voice called out, but Dani yanked on her invisibility, pulling as hard as she could, running off. 

Dani had killed someone, sending full-on shivers and nausea through her, compounded by the protests of her fragile anatomy as she tried to maintain invisibility. She quickly found her things, which had been haphazardly tossed into a corner, snatching the wallet and nothing else. It felt like she was falling apart. 

Dani made it to the exit before Red Hood spotted her again. 

“Wait!” He called out, sounding panicked. 

Dani couldn’t help the reflexive glance back, likely showcasing the bright glow of her eyes, and the thick trickle of ectoplasm as it seeped out of her nose before she fled into the night. There was cursing and heavy steps behind her, so Dani did the only thing she could and transformed as soon as she was out of direct eyesight, doing her best to ignore the familiar sensation of destabilization as it began to set in. She even ignored the swear-storm of the vigilante she left behind in the alley. Dani was going back to Amity Park as soon as she could, but she now knew, deep in her gut and in the sour taste of ectoplasm in the back of her throat, just how dangerous it could be on her own.

[goodfish-bowl]

The Thermos

Kwan stared at Danny in confused horror from across the classroom. He watched as Danny cracked open a can Mountain Dew and poured it into what was definitely a Fenton Thermos. The entire can went inside, and Kwan watched as a strange vapor that couldn’t be explained as carbonation seeped out from the rim of the container before Danny snatched it up and chugged what had to be at least half of its contents before slamming the lid down on it. He placed it gently on the corner of his desk as if he hadn’t just attacked it like a dying man. A shiver forced itself down Kwan’s spine.

“You know, Dash, sometimes I wonder how Fenton is still alive,” He commented, more to himself than Dash.

Dash huffed, “If he was going to kick to bucket, he would’ve done it by now. Between his wack job parents, the ghosts, and the toxic sludge punch he keeps in that thermos, Fenton is just something else.”

Kwan hummed in agreement. “What did he put in there earlier?”

“Two different Red Bulls.”

Kwan shivered, “Pretty sure that whatever is in that thermos is the only thing keeping him alive.”

“Sounds about right. Still doesn’t stop the looser from passing out in the middle of class.”

Kwan sighed. He could practically see Danny drooping onto his desk already. Class hadn’t even started yet. Sam smacked him with her notebook right upside the head and Danny startled back awake, flailing and falling from his desk, crashing into the ground with a loud bang. Mr. Lancer walked in.

“Mr. Fenton, while you’re inspection of the ground is greatly appreciated and on topic, I do believe it’s time for class.”

There was a round of laughter as Danny pulled himself off the ground. Kwan noticed him favor his right leg, far too much for it to have just been from his fall from his desk.

“Sorry, Mr. Lancer,” Danny apologized timidly as he fixed his desk and slid back into it, shooting and irritated glare at Sam who just stuck out her tongue in response.

“And with that, we’re going to be reviewing ‘The Fall of Icarus’ before we jump into our analysis of the Iliad,” Mr. Lancer continued.

Kwan pulled out his book and flipped to the page. “Yeah, it’s definitely what’s in the thermos,” he muttered.

Focused on their books and covered by the sound of pages, no one caught Danny pulling out two vials of viscous green liquid, open them up with a soft ‘pop’, and add them to the Thermos, taking another large gulp, before giving the thermos a small swirl to mix the contents. He pulled out his own tattered mess of a book and focused the best he could for the duration of the class, passing out by the half-way mark.

Kwan watched as Danny rushed out of the class as soon as the bell rang, Dash close on his tail over a failed Bio test. No limp whatsoever. Kwan huffed to himself, he must’ve imagined it.

[goodfish-bowl]

Full-Time Hero

DP Side Hoes Week 2024 Master Post

Day 3: Super Danny - domestic/ off-duty

Summary: There's only so much that can be done before there's nothing immediately left to do. Super Danny does his job but is then left with some time to think.

Word Count: 517

AO3 Link

Super Danny considered this particular arrangement, being split between his human and ghost halves,  an absolute advantage. While his other half attended classes and occupied his friends, Super was freely able to protect Amity Park from the villains that plagued it. He was even able to keep the fallout from his normal fights even lower since he wasn’t in as much of a rush as he normally was. Living a double life impacted his ability to be a hero, and by dividing it into two, both halves got to enjoy their portions to the fullest. He could be a full-time hero split as he was, just as he was supposed to be. But… Super had just caught his morning quota of ghosts for a school day, and even returned them to the Zone in record time. His human half was still in class and would be for a couple more hours, meaning there wasn’t anything productive for him to do. 

Super had flown a long, thorough patrol around every corner of Amity Park, but there were no more ghosts to fight. That was a good thing! But it left him feeling unfulfilled. How was he supposed to be a hero without any villains? But heroes helped people in general too, didn’t they?

Super gave himself a new mission until the next ghost attack. With people emerging for lunch, he began helping the people who would let him. Carrying groceries, retrieving a lost balloon, and even searching for a lost cat he saw on a poster, returning it to the owner in record time. He couldn’t find anything to do after that, which left him off-balance. 

A hero’s work never ended, even with the exhaustion already filling his head and the vague feeling of nausea from being separated. He had to keep going. 

Super decided keeping watch would have to do for now. Every hero needed a proper perch from which to swoop down heroically from. He found the highest point and claimed it as his perch, letting his white cap be tugged around by the wind around him. He was Phantom, protector of Amity Park, and he could see his entire town from here. Nothing would catch him by surprise from up here.

However, constant vigilance was hard to maintain as one half of a 14-year old. Super soon found himself becoming distracted in the minutia happening underneath him. He never really got to just… hang around while a ghost. Especially during a school day. The sun was warm, and it was relatively quiet right now, large clouds drifting overhead. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the exhaustion weigh on him for just a moment. This was what he was trying to protect, right? The quiet, peacefulness of Amity Park, even if he was the one who caused the most ruckus. It was his duty to make sure there were still days like this for the foreseeable future. If that meant never rejoining with his human half, then Super was fully content with this. 

He would do whatever it took to continue protecting Amity Park.

[goodfish-bowl]

Lone Wulf

DP Side Hoes Week 2024 Master Post

Day 1: Wulf - missed memories

Summary: Wulf goes into hiding in the time between “Public Enemies” and “Claw of the Wild”

Word Count: 677

A03 Link

Wulf had been to a lot of places, it was nature as a wanderer that lead him to do as such, making small discoveries as he explored the lesser known parts of the Infinte Realms. Of course, there were places he visited regularly, his wandering wasn’t random after all, and there were people he wanted to visit, both for their sake and his own. He wanted to make sure his newest friend, Phantom, was alright, bound to that human city as he was. He couldn’t fathom what that was like, he could never willingly stay in a place for too long, let alone settle into one. Wulf thinks that Phantom, too would enjoy going on a good, long trip, but he couldn’t go, just as Wulf couldn’t stay.

Wuf had spent far too long in Walker’s prison, Phantom had done him a great service by freeing him. Who knows what he had missed since he had last visited his regular stops. After thanking, and departing from Phantom, Wulf went into hiding, Walker was still pursuing him, after all, but he knew places even the Warden couldn’t follow. Places where only a lone, wandering wolf ever traveled.

These places were dark and deep within the Realms. They held new and forgotten things to the rest, but he didn’t have any particular interests in these things. Odd creatures left him alone, and he knew better than to investigate any ruins too closely. The lands themselves gazed upon him as he tread past and through them, but rarely did they act. Wulf knew better than to earn their ire in particular. But upon occasion, he collected small things. Things he could easily carry, gifts for others, but rarely anything for himself, all from these forgotten and hidden places. He could only take what he could carry, but small gifts for others were only a temporary burden, and a welcome one. Wulf had no idea how long he spent within the hidden corners of the Realms, but it had been too long since he had completed his full loop, visiting old friends as he moved through his normal route. Thus Wulf emerged from hiding, and went to his first destination.

The Yeti’s welcomed him as an old friend, and they traded stories. Wulf told the story of his time in Walker’s prison and Phantom’s heroics, along with his newest discoveries from the depths, trading new things for supplies. He was surprised to learn that Phantom had also been through the Far Frozen, and was told the tale of how Phantom had defeated the Ghost King, Pariah Dark, and his visit to the Far Frozen on multiple occasions, concerning both a treasure the yetis guarded, and his own developing powers.

The yeti were excellent story tellers, but a different kind of tension filled Wulf as the tales were regaled. His friend, one he undoubtedly owed a debt to, had been though much while Wulf had been in hiding, missing even the rise of the old King, lurking in an untouched place. He felt guilty for leaving his friend to fend for himself. He hadn’t meant to miss so much, especially something so important. Wulf had grabbed a small gift for Danny from within the depths, he would bring it to him. With how fast the small, young ghost was growing, Wulf would have to make sure to visit him multiple times along his trips.

Wulf left the Far Frozen with a hearty farewell, and sped off in the direction of the artificial portal to Phantom’s home. He should’ve known better in retrospect, than to get so close to Walker’s territory, and end up captured for a second time, escaping though a portal to the Living Realm and encountering just the person he wanted to see in a place he hadn’t expected him to be. Of course, all’s well that ends well, Wulf just regretted he had lost those gifts he had meant to give, losing them somewhere in his pursuit by Walker during the battle in the forest of the living world.

[goodfish-bowl]

Wired-In

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 2: Technomancy

AO3 Link

Summary: Valerie hadn’t noticed any differences at first, just life being a bit easier when it came to certain things. but with the hum now constantly under her skin, it’s difficult to focus on anything else.

Warnings: angst, slight body horror

Words: 805

It had been small and subtle things at first, differences that Valerie could only notice in retrospect. Devices no longer asked for passwords, and the broken cash register at work would suddenly start functioning again after a swift hit to the side. It would only take a good, percussive kick to get the bugged-out ice cream machine working again. All of them were small things that she wouldn’t look at suspiciously, but would make her day just the slightest bit easier. 

Then, some other things became a lot easier. Valerie’s fingers would fly across a keyboard, autocorrecting to exactly what she meant, even if the word was widely misspelled. Using her suit became so close to second nature it barely took the hint of a thought to get it to do anything, from her hoverboard to the manifestation of weapons she had never called upon before. Valerie actually noticed this one, but wrote it off as a progression of skill. That sniper rifle-style blaster had managed to land a solid hit on Phantom before he could even react. 

The first time Valerie really noticed something was up, it had been during a three way fight between Skulker, Phantom, and herself. A vivid image of Skulker’s wings deploying and sending him directly into the closest building flashed in her mind. With a show of teeth, and an audible snarl, Valerie gave into the impulse and harshly shoved the mechanical ghost out of the way. Red flashed beneath Skulker's suit, racing up his arm in a pulse of light, his eyes flickered to her signature crimson. With the sound of skulker yelling inside of his suit as he lost control, the wings deployed and he crashed directly into the office building to their left. Valerie only spared enough time to glance between her hand and the Skulker-shaped hole in the office windows, before forcing her hoverboard to go faster after Phantom.

It had been later that night, that Valerie truly acknowledged that something wasn’t quite right. The screen in her visor no longer projected the tracking formation before her face, but flashed with complete understanding behind her eyes. She accepted it easily in the moment, caught up in the chase, but laid in her bed for hours afterwards. After flicking through the mental computer in her mind for a while, Valerie ended up mentally going over recordings of her own memories, like they were recorded from her own eyes with perfect clarity. Even with her suit tucked away, she could still feel it humming under her skin, and buzzing behind her eyes. It didn’t go away, and she couldn’t find the power button either.  

Valerie couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or not, still lost in her own mind, but still hearing every minute of Mr. Lancer’s lecture as it was recorded and transcribed into a small corner of her mind. It made her feel less human, with every second of her memory being perfectly recalled like a computer log. Now that she was aware of it, Valerie could even feel the high-frequency buzz of electronics in the school building, the call of various devices tucked away behind the textbooks and in bags. It made her hyper aware of everything humming with electricity in this corner of the building. She absently wondered what she could do with it, but these powers reminded her far too much of Technus, usefulness aside it twisted her gut in a way she didn’t like as she was changed without her permission.

Valerie wondered if she should go to the Fentons about her newfound powers, but that brought the drawback of them finding out. Valerie herself didn’t want to know if they cut her open, and took samples, if they would find electricity and ectoplasm mixed into her blood. Chips and wires replacing her veins. Danny was terrified of ghosts, she didn’t want him to look at her in fear, if she turned out to be more ghost-like than human.

Valerie rammed the thoughts about her powers to the side with such mental force she thought Skulker would go through another building (in the room over, a light burst). She was human, some neat and very useful abilities didn’t change that, it was a good thing, it made her a better ghost hunter. If she could link into the local security and traffic cameras, she might finally be able to find out where that awful ghost went when he wasn’t terrorizing Amity Park. She could take him down for good. Valerie hummed in contentment at the thought of finally getting her revenge, matching the humm of the lights above her perfectly.

Valerie didn’t catch the brief glance from Danny across the classroom as his breath released in a cold wisp and caught a flicker of crimson in her eyes.

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Master Post

[goodfish-bowl]

It Came to Me in a Dream

Part 2

DP Side Hoes Week Master Post

Day 4: Jack Fenton - nostalgia

Summary:  Dreams are said to be the organization of the mind while one sleeps, and often reveal something the individual already knew in a new light.  Jack Fenton revels in the nostalgia of the proto-portal as he and Maddie put the finishing touches on the full-size version.

Word Count: 602

AO3 Link

Jack Fenton stared at the gaping hole in front of him in absolute awe. After 22 years, lots of lost funding, tested and failed theories, and altering and re-altering of design plans, Maddie and he had finally finished it. The Ghost Portal was finally reaching its final stages of development. He was so excited to have finally reached this point that Maddie had to practically hold his hand to keep him from throwing the power switch before the last touches were put in place. But it was done. Or at least so, so, so very close to being done that Jack could hardly contain himself over it. His, Maddie’s, and his dearest friend Vlad’s dream to reach into the realm where ghosts resided was just hours away from being complete, and absolutely, completely within their grasp after all of these years of hard work. This portal would be their magnum opus, their life’s work! It would be revolutionary, even!

A sense of nostalgia overwhelmed Jack in the moment, bringing tears to his eyes while his loving wife just smiled and shook her head at his reaction. Oh, how he wished his best friend was here to witness this moment with him. Jack would bet Vladdie would be just as moved as he was to finally see this dream become a reality. 

At the thought, Jack let out a snort, careful not to mess up any of the sensitive parts he was currently working on. The portal, oh so long ago, back in college, when their club was looking for a purpose other than going ghost hunting in the local areas, looking to make it a science, Jack had an odd dream. 

It had been a vivid, wild thing shifting between perspectives and places so quickly but it remained vivid to Jack, even 23 years later. It took him though their lab, both modern day and their college-sponsored one and showed him different versions of the portal, both what became of the proto-portal and the beauty in front of him. He even dreamed of what the other side could possibly look like, with strange green swirls and floating doors. It was a little uncanny, but Jack couldn’t help but embrace it with a renewed inspiration. He had based quite a few of his designs off of ones he remembered from that one dream. 

When Jack had woken up from that fateful dream, he had quickly woken Vladdie up in their shared dorm room to share his newest idea. The idea to build a portal to the realm where ghosts resided had been both ‘brilliant and the craziest thing I have ever’ Vlad had told him at four in the morning. But he had agreed to the idea, eyes lighting up with that passion that led Jack and Vlad to fuel each other's ideas back in the good old days. 

It had sounded so hard at first, almost impossible, but Jack was certain they could do it. They had needed a project outside of EMF readers and messing with other radio equipment. Their concentration for their studies, and their club’s funding was about to be dropped if they didn’t come up with something soon, so it was just what the doctor had ordered! If anyone could do it, Jack believed the three of them could. Jack could build the device, Vlad was a wiz with moving energy and power around, while Mads was great with the chemistry of it all. A dream-team, even, prefect to make the impossible happen!

Now, seeing his literal dream come true in front of him, it moved Jack to tears.

[goodfish-bowl]

A Way of Death

Ectoberhaunt Day 12: Way of Life/Cause of Death

AO3 Link

Summary: Everything had been going pretty well for Danny, all things considered. Things being his own body buried just outside of town. Joseph Brown is having a decidedly horrible day, and really hopes this ends in a court case. 

Warnings: Description of corpse

Words: 1149

Notes: I do love me some Corpse AU. As a treat.

@ectoberhaunt

The Coroner, Joseph Brown, looked down at the body they’d been given, then at the info sheet. He’d ran the standard series of tests, like protocol demanded, and his gut wrenched. He’d never dealt with a John Doe corpse before, not like some of the bigger city morgues. His role and title in the APPD was more cosmetic than anything else. Since the ghost arrived over a year ago, human crime had been at an all time low, hell, they probably had the lowest numbers in the country. He mostly worked in the funeral service now adays.

The body in front of Joseph was small, not much larger than a child, and the tests confirmed as much. Male, young, probably early teens, and had been buried in the ground for at least a year at this point, probably since right before the ghosts had shown up. There weren’t really any leads at this point, but it wasn’t his job to find leads, just make notes of what he finds. Which is what he’d been doing.

The blanket the teen had been wrapped in was already sealed away into a specimen bag, faded and tattered from it’s time in the ground. It looked like it had once been space themed, and had been tightly, almost lovingly, wrapped around the teen, liked he’d been tucked into his grave. Which made no sense, since he had been found in an unmarked grave on the outside of town, not too far from a well known stargazing spot. It was dichotomic. Joseph had noted as much in his report. The clothes too, Joseph noted, were odd. They were definitely the ones the teen had died in. They didn’t have the same damage as the body did. It had been a hoodie and sweats, also added to a specimen bag. It really was like someone had lovely put this boy to bed before burying him deep in the ground. It made him nearly sick to think someone could do that.

The body itself had its own issues. He was dealing with a John Doe, with no identifiable features other than Caucasian and black hair, and perhaps a clothing size. Everything else had rotten away during his time in the ground. This surprisingly didn’t stop him from identifying a bit about the boy’s life, nor his cause of death.

Whoever his John Doe was, he had a mild case of malnutrition and some growing problems. Due to what? No clue. Genetic tissue wasn’t usable for something as fine point as that, and Amity didn’t really have the resources for that anyways. A bone sample found the kid’s exact age to be 13-14 years old, which was tragic in its own way. The cause of death had been electrocution.

Joseph had read about electrocution victims in his textbooks, but whatever voltage this boy had been hit with was high enough to cause visible bone damage across his entire left side, along with instantaneously cooking him alive. Kid went out painfully and quickly. It appeared to start in his left hand, probably where he ended up touching some exposed electric whatever, went through his entire body, before exiting from the right foot into the ground. Whatever the kid had been wearing must’ve been protective to some degree, because the voltage seemed to have a hell of a time leaving once it got in. It probably ended up doing more damage than it did good.

On that note, Joseph didn’t think it was murder, this definitely seemed accidental, probably some kids just messing around. But accidental or not, there had been a cover up. He didn’t understand why whoever found the body hadn’t just reported it and gone about things the legal way. They had obviously cared about whoever this kid had been, so why bury him in an unmarked grave?

After a moment, Joseph found a reason. With how young the boy was, on top of the malnutrition and cause of death, a neglect case could be filed against his parents, which would also link into the lack of a missing person’s report matching the profile.

Joseph sighed aloud, thinking to himself, What a way to go.

  Danny had been minding his own business, carrying out his daily afterlife like he typically did.  Barely sleep, go to school, sleep in class, fail his classes, ditch because a ghost showed up, and then sulk around town (a.k.a. avoiding going home for as long as possible). Usually this happened with or without Sam and Tucker. If he was lucky, he’d make it home just before curfew, avoid talking to his parents, and then sneak out again for patrol. Rinse and repeat. It was a shitty way of life, and he knew it, but it didn’t feel like he had any other options.

Danny froze, suddenly feeling sick, almost getting shot out of the sky by his parents in the process. Ignoring the feeling for a moment, he ditched his usual game of ghost and hunter to go find somewhere safe to recover and spill his guts. Usually, he’d keep this up until his parents went home for the night, making sure they left the other ghosts alone, but not like this. He’d mess up.

Danny buckled on the roof of a random building in the old historic district, now dubbed the Neon District. He wasted no time emptying out what little food he’d managed to eat that day. He felt awful, like someone was poking and prodding at his insides. Another wave of nausea spiraled over him, and he fell to his hands and knees, gagging.

Ancients, what was going on? It felt like someone was walking all over his-

Danny’s head snapped up and towards the edges of town. No. It couldn’t actually… He took off at max speed towards the outskirts of town.

The area had always been quiet, and it was far enough from town that it was rarely ever visited. It also just happened to be once of the best places close by for stargazing. His parents used to take him, whenever they weren’t busy with some new invention or project, which happened less and less as the years went by. They hadn’t gone even once since the portal had opened up. He figured it had been a safe spot as long as he kept away from the used area.

Danny touched down in what was blocked off like an active crime scene. The small clearing was covered in powered off cameras and lights, and a hole in the ground in the center of it all. There was nothing but dirt in the bottom of it.

It was gone. His body, which he’d buried in this exact spot, was gone. Danny was filled with a harsh mix of rage and dread. His horrible way of life was about to get a lot more complicated.

[goodfish-bowl]

It Came to Me in a Dream

Part 1

DP Side Hoes Week 2024 Master Post

Day 6: Nocturn - creation

Summary: Dreams are said to be the organization of the mind while one sleeps, and often reveal something the individual already knew in a new light. Nocturn might not be the ghost with the ability to see the future, but dreams are often one of the easiest ways to nudge the Realms of the Living in a particular direction. 

Word Count: 512

AO3 Link

Nocturn was familiar with these kinds of favors for the Master of Time. They were simple enough for him to do, though rather lacking in the creativity he preferred to express when interfering with the dreams of the living. Dreams were perceived to be the organization of the mind, and the window into the subconscious, and by providing the correct nudge, it was easy to push the minds of the living in a desired direction. Nocturn often found an idle curiosity as to what became of these dreamers, the resulting revelations and thoughts, and most importantly, the creations from them. Dreams made reality, it was the ultimate actualization of his own work. 

But to influence, even fully direct these dreams was something close to sacrilege to Nocturn. He understood their purpose well enough, dreams were important to the progression of time after all, small nudges, ambitions, and so on. It was a simple, and easy way to put an idea into the mind and have that individual think it was their own. It was unintrusive enough that Clockwork could fully exploit that method of influence without angering the Observants. Nocturn thought it was rather coy of the old Time Master, so despite his dislike of it, he played along.

It had taken some exhaustingly long meetings with the old ghost to work out a proper agreement for his services, but there was one reached. For so little effort, he usually either received a good, extended rest for himself within a slowed/paused pocket of time, and knowledge of future and past events through the lenses of dreams. He rarely took interest in the mortal or the visions he was sending them. Nocturn occasionally took some creative liberties within the presentation of these crafted dreams, since they were his own, handmade creations after all, and he allowed himself the satisfaction of knowing he had an impact on the fates of a Realm. He had only earned the ire of the Master of Time just once for his creativity. It was not good to drive Clockwork’s chosen prophets and visionaries mad, after all. Nocturn couldn’t do anything about it, though, when they were already that way. 

This particular instance, the Clock Master had requested Nocturn to send a very peculiar dream to an equally peculiar mortal man. He asked for the reason, and upon hearing that this series of events would influence the very existence of the Realms, paid particular attention. It was rare for a singular mortal to influence so much, let alone something that could potentially affect him. Nocturn was to send this human future knowledge of artificial portals to the Realms, and images of the realms themselves, though the latter aspect wasn’t as unique. Just the concept was so unfathomable, but if that’s what the Ancient of Time had requested, then so be it. These portals would exist, in time. These dreams were simply to make sure of that. Most peculiar indeed. 

In this case, Nocturn was going to pay particular attention to the creations of the mortal known as Jack Fenton.

[goodfish-bowl]

Thrill of the Hunt

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 5: Hunt

AO3 Link

Summary: Skulker finally manages to catch Danny after a brief chase, but is entirely dissatisfied by Danny's lack of fight and decides to figure out what's wrong.

Warnings: social drinking

Words: 3326

“Whelp! Today will be the day I hang your pelt on my best display!”

Skulker pushed his rockets to go even faster as he chased after Phantom. The new upgrades he managed to extort from Technus must be working well since he was right on the ghost child’s tail as they twisted through the buildings. They both swerved around the building, with Phantom only avoiding crashing directly into the rooftop by the skin of his teeth. He took in a breath so sharp that Skulker could easily hear it before shakily bringing himself back up to full speed. No potshots were taken during the turn like he’d come to expect. There was no typical response to his jab, just a harsh breath and silence.  

Something… didn’t seem right. 

Skulker checked his current speed, and he was faster, but only just marginally. Phantom should be able to outpace him easily, fly loops around him, even. But he wasn’t. He almost suspected it to be a trap, but the whelp never did anything like that unless he got desperate. Skulker looked a bit closer and saw how wobbly Phantom’s flight seemed to be, and how worn down he seemed in general. Desperation was possible, but still not likely. He hadn’t done anything to warrant that kind of response recently. Now that he thought about it, Skulker hadn’t been insulted or quipped at the entire chase. Skulker had even been the one to find the ghost child this time, not the other way around like normal.

Something was wrong. This didn’t seem like a fair hunt at all.  

Skulker started charging up the newest set of weapons he had obtained after his last job from Plasmius. He hadn’t even had the chance to try them out yet, but were supposed to be debilitating for the welp either way, and in Phantom’s current state, it should be more than enough. He lined up the shot. 

Phantom only had enough time to glance back in panic at the sound of the gun before the arc of the blaster hit him. The ghost child fell from the sky like a brick, and Skulker quickly followed his first shot with a net. And just like that, the whelp was trapped, limp in his net, eyes glazed over and twitching almost violently every time a flicker of static electricity sparked across his form. Skulker analyzed the effects of his newest weapon with distaste. Too easy. He was getting rid of this one next time he decided to tinker with his suit. Hunting the welp should never be something easy. 

Skulker picked up his catch, and glanced around. It was too quiet for him to be successfully catching Phantom, and not nearly enough damage. There had been no fight, only the chase. The ghost child’s friends were nowhere to be found. There was no trace of the human ghost hunters either, the Fentons, GIW, or that Red girl. Normally, at least one would’ve shown up by this point. 

Something was severely wrong.  

Skulker grabbed the whelp and slung him over his shoulder, ignoring the flash that accompanied the child’s transformation back to human form. He glanced at the now human whelp. Phantom looked even worse while human, with visible injuries and covered in filth. No wonder this was such an easy hunt, the whelp looked to be on the verge of keeling over. Unacceptable and disappointing, but worst of all, it was worrying. Something wasn’t right in Amity Park at the moment, and Skulker wasn’t leaving the whelp here until the issue resolved itself. 

With a huff, Skulker took off towards Plasmius’s mansion and slipped through the portal. It was… odd coming back from this direction. Normally he ended up “returning” through the Fenton portal. Another fact that further soured Skulker’s mood. 

Upon entering the Ghost Zone, Phantom let out a shuddering breath, and returned to his ghost form in the ectoplasm-saturated environment, still completely unconscious, but breathing easier now. This close to the ghost child, Skulker wondered if he was always breathing like the living, even as a ghost, or if it was just habital, or even circumstantial. So full of unknowns the small ghost was. As a hunter, Skulker should know a lot about his prey, but he never did know much about the small ghost. 

Skulker could practically feel the whelp soaking in the ectoplasm from around him. Deficient then. Which should be impossible considering he normally lived in one of the most ectoplasm-concentrated areas in the living world. Added to his current state, Skulker wondered if there was something preventing him from returning home. He did not like this situation one bit. 

Skulker brought the whelp back to his lair, and set him down on the small sofa that occupied the wall of the main room of his personal abode, leaving him wrapped up in the net. He didn’t want Phantom to run away before he figured out what was going on first. But, he didn’t know who to contact. He had no clue who the whelp actually talked to on friendly terms in the Zone, someone who would know what was going on. There were rumors of course, but few of those were actually believable.

Skulker called up whoever he could think of to contact, mostly just people he was also familiar with, being Johnny, Kitty, and Ember. It was possible they might know something. He knew all of them frequented Amity enough to possibly pick up on something. He sent out an urgent message to meet at his place as soon as possible. 

Ember was the first to arrive, kicking open his door with a sturdy boot, hair blazing in fury behind her. 

“I thought I told you to leave me the fuck alone after what you did last time!” Ember screeched. 

Skulker started to panic. Perhaps inviting Ember so recently after their latest break-up wasn’t such a good idea.

“I… I am! It’s just-!” he tried to explain, but Ember’s anger dissipated at the sight of Phantom passed out on his couch. 

There was a tense pause as she glanced between him and the whelp. 

“Why is Dipstick passed out on your couch? And why does he look like shit?”

“Well, I brought him here because something was wrong. He was terribly prey, no fight at all! So, I intend to figure out what is wrong, fix it, then release him for a proper hunt!” 

Ember gave him a scrutinizing glare, which Skulker refused to meet. She let out a heavy sigh. 

“Well, I don’t know what you expect me to do about it other than whack him with my guitar to see if that does anything,” Ember offered. 

Skulker crossed his arms, thinking it over. He didn’t think percussive maintenance was the solution to this problem. 

“No, I was wondering if you knew anything about what was going on in the Living realm at the moment, and who I should take the ghost child to to rehabilitate him before release,” Skulker elaborated. 

“Well, I haven’t been there since the Fenton portal closed,” Ember huffed. 

Skulker froze. “The Fenton portal is closed?”

Ember looked at him like he was crazy. “Yeah, it’s been that way for about a week. What the hell have you been up to to not notice?”

Skulker shrunk under her gaze, feeling sheepish. “Working on my suit, mostly, and I typically don’t use the Fenton Portal unless I’m getting flushed through it.”

Ember sighed. “Yep. Figured as much. But yeah, the portal’s closed, no clue what’s going on around the other side. I also don’t know much about what Baby Pop gets up to on this side either. Not exactly on speaking terms,” Ember shrugged. “Did you reach out to anyone else?”

“Just Johnny and Kitty. Is there anyone else I should ask?”

Ember thought about it for a moment. “Nah, Johnny’s a good bet though. He has that little portal maker on his bike again, and he was closer to the older sister for a while there.”

Skulker nodded, taking another glance at Phantom. There were numerous reasons the portal could finally be closed, both accidentally and intentionally. Those reasons were narrowed down if the ghost-child wasn’t in his natural habitat, but not narrow enough to come to a clear conclusion. 

“I’m going to raid the fridge, I know you still have those bottles of the good stuff in there,” Ember declared. 

“Grab me one too. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while before Johnny shows up.”

—

Johnny did show up… eventually. After several hours, in fact. By that time, there was no more booze left in the small house, and Ember and Skulker had somehow gotten over their latest breakup over the third bottle. Phantom was also still completely passed out.

Skulker raised a brow at how exhausted Johnny himself looked, and the lack of Kitty on the back of his bike as he pulled up. 

“I’m really busy at the moment, so whatever it is you want, make it quick,” Johnny snapped. 

“Well… umm… I was wondering if you know what’s going on in Amity Park at the moment, since the portal’s closed. And also if the whelp has any friends in the Zone who’d be willing to help him out?” Skulker just barely managed to get out. 

Johnny visibly sagged, looking even more tired than he already did. 

“Let me pass out on your couch for a bit, and I’ll update you. I didn’t think anyone reached out to you to help with the search yet, and we’ve already checked all the likely places and he’s… not there.” As Johnny was talking he pushed past the entry way into Skulker’s home, to see Phantom passed out on the couch. 

Johnny whipped around. “How long has he been here?!” Johnny demanded, exhaustion turned to rage. 

“Since I messaged you?” Skulker hesitantly answered. 

Johnny dragged a hand down in face, fully entering the house, and then plopping himself on the floor by the whelp’s feet. 

“You’re sister’s worried sick about you, brat,” Johnny hissed at the unconscious teen. “Next time, Skulker, lead with the fact that Danny’s here… actually… Why the fuck is he here?”

“Well, I was hunting him, and managed to catch him, but the hunt was completely unsatisfactory, so I figured something was wrong. So, I intended to figure out what is wrong, fix it, and then release him for a proper hunt! But I don’t know who the welp bothers when in the Realms, so I’ve been trying to figure out who to reach out to…” Skulker explained for the second time. “Do… you know where we should deliver him?”

Johnny… didn’t look pleased, but he wasn’t angry either. The biker ghost leaned his head back to look over the ghost child, a frown on his face. Phantom was still wrapped up in the net from earlier. 

“With the shape he’s in, the Far Frozen would probably be the best bet,” Johnny decided, causing both Ember and Skulker’s eyes to go wide. 

Ember snorted an incredulous laugh, “Do you want to bring Baby Pop to one of the more dangerous parts of the Zone? Those yeti don’t like anyone even getting close to their turf.”

Johnny looked at Ember with an understanding look. “Apparently, according to his sister and friends, the brat’s actually friends with the yetis, especially their Chief. So yeah, to Winter Wonderland we go.”

Ember still seemed completely baffled while Skulker thought it over. “I have heard rumors that the whelp was friends with some power ghosts, but I must admit, the Chief of the Far Frozen is a bit of a stretch,” Skulker reasoned. 

Johnny shrugged. “I’m just gonna do what Jazz asked.” 

“Nuh-uh, no way. Sorry, Johnny, but I’m not going anywhere near the Far Frozen,” Ember refused. 

“Don’t care, didn’t ask. It’s the Tin Can next to you who wanted to know,” Johnny snarked back. 

Ember huffed and Skulker chose this moment to make sure everything looked at least halfway decent. He walked on over to Johnny and Phantom, and grabbed to the end of the next, picking the whelp back up. 

“If that’s where he needs to be dropped off, fine. But if we get attacked it’s on you,” Skulker said. 

Johnny shrugged. “Just don’t get attacked then.”

This time it was Skulker’s turn to groan. “Fine, get off my floor and let’s go.” Skulker slung the whelp back over his shoulder and walked past Ember, who seemed a  bit lost and confused. 

“Wait… you’re seriously going to drop him off there?”

“Better there than my couch,” Skulker complained. “I don’t want to be there when he wakes up. I’m a hunter, not a ghost-child sanctuary.” 

Ember let out an irritated whine. “Fine, but I’m still not going.” Ember turned to Johnny, who was tiredly picking himself up off the floor, with Shadow giving much-needed support. “Also, it’s definitely your fault if he comes back with too many dents. I know I won’t see him for an entire week if he decides to tinker again.”

Johnny gave a half-hearted salute. Skulker gave Ember a quick peck on the cheek as he walked by to follow Johnny, Phantom still deeply asleep in the net hanging from his shoulder, curled up around himself. 

“I’ll be fine, Ember, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” she denied. 

Skulker smiled. He was happy they made up, he might just have to thank the ghost-child when he woke up. 

“I’ll be back soon.”

And with that, Skulker and Johnny took off in the general direction of the Far Frozen. Between Johnny’s bike, and Skulker’s boosters, they were making it in record time. It was a stroke of good luck that the orbit of the Far Frozen was closer than it normally was. 

“So, what happened?” Skulker finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him. 

Johnny gave him a side glance from his bike, looking grim. “Apparently, the Fentons found out, and that caused the brat to book it. From there, things spiraled according to his sister, with his parents looking all over for him. He’s been missing for just over a week at this point, and no one knows where the hell he’s been, living or ghost,” he explained. “So where the hell did you find him?”

Skulker let himself preen with pride, just a bit. “I am the expert when it comes to tracking down the ghost child. He was exactly where he normally is. In Amity Park.”

Johnny lost brief control of his bike, tires skidding and swerving on nothing before he regained his balance and sped back up to match Skulker’s pace. 

“He never fucking left?!” Johnny screeched. “That idiot!” 

Johnny let out a deep, suffering groan, muttering something Skulker couldn’t quite catch under his breath. He caught Johnny glancing over to Phantom, slowing down just a bit to give him a glance over. 

“He’s probably just been hiding wherever. Ancient’s know that no one knows Amity Park like he does. It might as well be his actual haunt by this point, living world or not.”

Skulker laughed. “The whelp knows every nook and cranny, that’s for sure. Took me twice as long to find him this time than it normally does.” Skulker let his laugh fade away and some thoughts finally connect together. “Where were the others looking? I noticed a surprising lack of ghost hunters within the city while I was there.”

Johnny had to think about this for a minute. “The surrounding counties, I think. All his friends thought he either ran away from Amity or fled deep into the Zone. But of course, he stayed in Amity, prying him out of there would be harder than me getting a date with his sister again,” Johnny joked. 

Johnny signed, “but apparently, his friends checked all the brat’s allies’ places first. Jack shit there, obviously. I’m a bit worried honestly, I don’t like the bugger, but he’s a bit too iconic to get rid of.”

Skulker nodded in understanding. “The day I finally catch the ghost child in a fair hunt will be a satisfactory one. But… likely very far off.” 

Johnny snorted, “Sure, keep telling yourself that.” 

-- 

Skulker had never been to the Far Frozen before, he’d been warned against it numerous times, and now he could see why. The Yeti were a formidable people, and nearly struck both Skulker and Johnny down at sight until Johnny said that he had found the whelp. The yeti cleared the way almost immediately. It was deeply surprising. Skulker had no idea the ghost-child had allies like them. It was… something he would need to consider if he wished to continue hunting Phantom as he was. He didn’t want to fight the population of the Far Frozen, that would be bad. 

Skulker was practically herded to the medical facilities, and there was some minor outcry about Phantom being carried in a net, but a surprising number agreed that it was probably for the best. What ruthless allies. From there, Skulker was shoved into a waiting room, while the whelp’s friends were contacted. Johnny wandered off somewhere to recuperate. A passing healer told Skulker Johnny had been searching the Zone for the last day and a half nonstop at The Great One’s sister’s request and happily offered a place to rest. Skulker wondered what the whelp had done to earn a title like that. Another thing to consider. 

Skulker was still in the waiting room, nursing a cup of hot chocolate when the expected trio of humans showed up and began harassing the doctors of the Far Frozen. It took them long enough. 

Skulker gathered himself and began making his way out of the medical facility, his job concluded in entirety. 

“Skulker, correct?” A voice called. 

Skulker paused and glanced behind him to come face to face with the largest yeti he had yet to meet, missing an arm that had been replaced with ice. This had to be Frostbite himself, Chief of the Far Frozen. Hot nerves shot through Skulker. 

“Y-yes?”

Then, much to Skulker’s shock, Frostbite dipped into a low bow. “I must thank you humbly for bringing the Great One here. His friends and allies were all deeply worried.” Frostbite lifted his head and scratched at his chin. 

“Though, I must ask, how were you able to find him when no one else could?”

“I am the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter, finding the whelp, in particular, is my specialty,” Skulker answered reflexively, wincing when he realized what he had said. Not good. That was a bad thing to insinuate to the ghost child’s powerful ally. 

Frostbite laughed good-heartedly, snapping Skulker out of his sudden fear of being ripped apart right then and there. 

“The Far Frozen offers many thanks, Skulker, the Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunter. If we ever need your assistance, we will be sure to contact you. And in return, should you ever need Far Frozen’s aid, you may have it,” Frostbite offered. 

Skulker could do nothing but stare for a moment before finally collecting himself and dipping into a deep bow himself. “It was my honor, Chief Frostbite. I’m glad to be of assistance and deeply grateful for your offer.”

Frostbite gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder, laughing merrily. “Well then, Skulker, it was wonderful to meet you, but I must go attend to the Great One’s condition.”

And with that, Frostbite walked away leaving Skulker gaping like a fish in the waiting room. Slowly, he returned to gathering himself and finding his way out of the medical facility. He should definitely pick up another three bottles of the good stuff on his way back. He wondered if Ember would still be around to share it with him.  

The whelp would be just fine with friends like that, even if he was going to be that much harder to hunt. Skulker was looking forward to it.

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Master Post

[goodfish-bowl]

Sampling Error

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 4: Aliens

AO3 Link

Summary: You should always be careful where you gather your data because you can always end up with a bunch of outliers. Or Danny ends up abducted by aliens.

Warnings: abduction, kidnapping

Words: 1812

They had found this particular specimen sleeping on the top of one of the structures built by the native inhabitants of this planet. From preliminary research on the native species, this particular kind was sapient and rapidly developing, locally known as ‘humans’, likely to join the cosmos within the next millennia. The one they had sedated for inspection was an adolescent male. The intention was to observe the specimen and take base vitals, before another round of sedation upon release. With a bit of luck, he wouldn’t remember anything, other than some possibly subconscious trauma. An unfortunate, if slightly helpful effect of his capture. 

It was exciting to be dealing with a live specimen, since all of their past research had been either from a distance, or gathered digitally through the planet's local information networks. Luckily, there was plenty of it currently, but there were still some gaps that they needed a live specimen to gather. Mostly just to fill in the places in their report that the “humans” hadn’t yet discovered, and to verify the collected data. Their guest was currently unconscious in a sterile room, designed to be a familiar and comforting place, where resting vitals were being measured from a distance through the specialty biometrics scanners. They just wanted to see if those vitals matched up with the information they had gathered before he woke up. 

Already, there were alarms and concerns being pinged. Their subject had no heart rate, his internal core temperature was desperately low, and he wasn’t breathing in the simulated atmosphere in the containment room. Panic broke out in the observation room. 

“Why is he dead?” One of the researchers exclaimed. 

“The atmospheric composition, temperature, humidity, and gravity are all fine! Maybe we grabbed a deceased specimen?”

“There aren’t any visible injuries! Did we get the dose of the sedative wrong?”

“Maybe? Humans are fragile! It was probably an internal issue, nothing that was our fault. Let’s do some deeper anatomical scans.”

There was the slight humming of machinery as internal scans were taken.

“That… looks a bit different than the local research.” 

“How did he manage to get whole stones in his liver?”

“Yeah… that’s weird, but more importantly what is that organ fused with his heart? The scanners won’t give me much information about it, it’s giving off interference.”

“Biological, carbon-based beings don’t give off interference. The scan’s just malfunctioning. Do it again.”   

There was a pause, and the “broken” scans got passed around, while a new one was being taken. 

“Same result,” the researcher groaned. “And there’s nothing wrong with the scanner. I’ve already run diagnostics on it too.” 

In the containment room, the human groaned and blinked awake, vitals returning, breaking the argument as the sensors screamed to life with the sudden shift in vitals, now active but still far too low. The room fell silent as a pair of bright blue eyes seemed to stare directly at the group of scientists. 

“He’s awake,” someone stated the obvious. 

“He really shouldn’t be, since he’s dead.”

“Well, his vitals have returned… though they still don’t match the pre-gathered baselines after that initial spike… Did we mix up the conversions from Earth measurements to galactic standard?”

“No, we’ve checked this math a jahrdec’s worth before converting our numbers over. Our numbers are fine. Maybe this specimen is just an outlier?” 

“It’s possible. That would be some luck if he is.”

“We should probably get some answers if he’s willing to communicate. It might be best to just collect some case file information, and grab a different one later.”

“Irritating… but your point is understood. Is the communication translator working up to standard?” 

“It… should be. There’s likely still a few language glitches. But it works as intended.”

“Then I suppose let’s initiate ‘prime introduction’.”

Danny had been having a bit of an off day. He had a test this morning that he had actually managed to go to, only to struggle through the entire thing, and barely finish it within the allotted time. Then Skulker had decided to visit for a lunchtime hunt. Then there had been a blob ghost infestation in the Neon District after school, so he had to draw the ghost hunters away from there while Sam and Tucker gathered the blobs and returned them to the Zone. That was pretty tiring too. Then Johnny 13 had decided to drag race through town against Technus, and that was the opposite of fun, especially when Technus hit him with that stupid electric car Vlad had bought recently (no regrets about leaving a dent in the hood though).

So, Danny was tired, and his parents weren’t likely to find him taking a nap on the top of the downtown office building. So, he couldn’t really be faulted for “sleeping like the dead” when he finally stopped to rest. But of course, with enough panicked shouting, even the dead will awaken, especially in Amity Park. So when Danny woke up to a bunch of bickering in a language he didn’t understand, it took him a second to gain his bearings. 

At first, the blinding panic that overcame Danny was enough to spike his vitals up to almost-human levels, whiplashing his insides out of their nap-time pause. He thought, just for a moment, that he had been taken to either a morgue or a lab. But then Danny realized that 1) he wasn’t naked, and 2) he wasn’t strapped down. Also, he didn’t think either of those used a light yellow, floral wallpaper or lighting that looked like it was kidnapped from a thrift store. 

It was all a little bit uncanny, really, how the room had been set up, lacking both visible doors or vents, and fit too seamlessly together. There was no furniture in the room other than the thrift store lamps, and the table was covered with a thin blanket that he had been sleeping on. It smelt vaguely somewhere between hairspray and lemons, too clean. The only imperfections at all in the poorly decorated box he had been trapped in were small objects on the ceiling that could’ve been either sensors or cameras. He could pick up shouting from the other side of the two-way mirror poorly disguised as a normal mirror. He didn’t understand a word. 

The chatter died down almost immediately after Danny had started staring at the window, trying to see if he could spot something on the other side. 

There was a hum from… somewhere, and a voice echoed from overhead. 

“Well dawn, why were you dead?”

The voice was artificial in the way syrups and flavorings were, but far better than any sort of voice changer or text-to-speech Danny had ever heard. Also, the phrasing was odd enough that Danny almost focused on ‘well dawn’, mouthing it under his breath before the question registered.  

“That’s rude,” Danny retorted. There was a pause before the voice responded. 

“Apologies. Your vitals were not applicable and we assumed you had died. Why?”

“Just sleeping like the dead. So, who kidnapped me this time?” Danny was pretty sure it wasn’t one of the cult or those ghost hunters. Like, 90% certain. Neither of them had this kind of aesthetic. Also neither of them talked like a broken thesaurus. He was definitely mentally writing down some of the phrases for later though. 

“We identify as the boffins of the Galactic Organization of Lifeform investigation. What is your issue?”

Danny wasn’t sure if it was just the weird AI voice, but he really couldn’t tell if they were insulting him or genuinely asking. Also, he didn’t know what a ‘boffin’ was, so he was adding points to the likelihood of having been kidnapped by a really weird cult. The word ‘galactic’ stood out to Danny though. Galactic meant space, and the room he was in was pretty weird too… Danny really hoped couldn’t believe he had been kidnapped by aliens.  So the running theory was still cult. 

“Please respond to the before inquiry.” 

Danny secretly added points to the category that now didn’t exist in his head. 

“Last I checked, the issues I’ve got are a bit ghastly, but plenty of people suffer from sudden bouts of… expiration.” 

“Is the substandard tempo a symptom of demise?”

“I would say so, yeah.” 

Danny was still really caught up on the wording, but also, speaking of words, he still had an English paper to complete and he was getting ideas. He also only understood about 60% of what was being asked.  

“Hey, can I go home now? I’ve got some more things to do that involve not being here,” Danny asked. 

“Your location shall be reset upon accomplishment.”

Danny didn’t like the sound of that. He was going to leave anyway. 

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’ve got to ghost you on your science project, so… later.”

Danny let intangibility wash over him, and found himself plummeting from low-orbit. Another point to the secret category. At least it was a good view before he tried to finish that paper again. 

-- 

The researchers watched as the human boy went directly through the floor with little effort, still reeling over the last message. 

“Apologizing for upset, I must die on your experiment. Time passes.”

They glanced over the case file that had pulled together with less answers than before. Humans were capable of reviving themselves upon death, and possibly even passing through solid matter. It… really didn’t add up. No current research indicated that was possible for biological organisms. It could overwrite hertons of research. 

“Where do you think he went?”

“Maybe back to the rooftop?”

“After plummeting from low-orbit?”

“Maybe he can fly too?”

Questions buzzed and floated around the room about the newly discovered aspects of human nature. It sounded common too, from the responses they had received before the specimen had fled. 

One researcher, who had been operating the translation device, a dedicated linguist, spoke up. “Hey, there might be an issue with the translator.”

That caused the observation room to go quiet. 

“It’s not picking up the contextual or cultural use of phrases in a whole context, just the basic word meanings, direct translations only.”

It was still quiet as the recordings were replayed, this time without automated translation for the benefit of the group. With the spoken inflections, the issue was a lot clearer. 

“So… that means we have no idea what he was saying in context?” 

“Not really, no.”

There was a mix of muttering and grumbling in a variety of different languages throughout the room, mostly upset and irritated. 

“Doesn’t change the fact he still went through the floor into low orbit,” someone added. 

“And that he still definitely lacked vitals when we found him.”

“Yeah… I think we should just leave the humans alone for now.”

There was a general consensus of agreement.

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Master Post