#my work feels so damn juvenile in comparison

[stil-lindigo]

emily carroll has once again permanently changed my brain chemistry

[theabyssinyourcloset]

The Goblin Shark

The goblin shark is a species of shark. It's also happens to be my absolute favourite.

The scientific name for this "little" creature is Mitsukurina owstoni. It's a rare species that lives in depths greater than 100 metres (330 feet for my American friends), although it can possibly dive up to 1 300 metres deep (4 270 feet) (according to some scientists). Adults usually find their habitat deeper than juveniles. They have been found in all of the major oceans, suggesting that the species lives pretty much all around the globe.

The goblin shark was first discovered around 1906 (although I'm not sure about this since my sources did not state the exact date) at the eastern coast of Japan. To this day, fewer than 50 goblin sharks have been spotted. Some dead specimens have been hauled up for research.

Studies show that the goblin shark is a pretty damn old species. It has been described as a "living fossil". It seems that it is the only surviving shark species of the Mitsukurindae family. Some fossils have been found, suggesting that other lines of species from the same family have once existed.

These sharks are usually a colour of pink. They have 26 sharp teeth in their upper jaw, and 24 in their lower. (Their jaw is unique, but I'll explain more later on in this post.) The goblin shark also has a long snout above its mouth.

Unlike most other deep-sea sharks, the goblin shark has a fully working iris. Its pupils can dilate and contract when the tiny amounts of lights are detected down in their habitat. This is most likely to help them locate prey.

This shark can grow to over 3,7 metres long (12 feet), with the estimated maximum around 7 metres (23 feet). Usually it stays between 3 and 4 metres.

The maximum weight recorded was 210 kilograms (460 pounds). I think it's pretty safe to say that these are not that small animals.

Now, what makes these creatures unique (and my favourite) is the goblin shark's jaw and hunting technique. The goblin shark hunts by thrusting its jaw forward with a velocity of 3,14 metres per second (I don't know how to tell the speed in any other way, sorry), the fastest recorded for any shark species (also faster than most cobra strikes). The jaw can extend to a length of up to 7,6 centimetres (3 inches) with an angle up to 111 degrees (for comparison, the average human can open their jaw to about 50 degrees). Pretty impressive, right?

In conclusion: The goblin shark is a deep-sea shark species that hunts by thrusting its jaw forward. We don't know much about them, since only a little under 50 specimens have been spotted within the 118 years after the first discovery at the coast of Japan.

Below I have provided pictures and a couple of gifs of these creatures. I own none of the pictures, and I made sure none of them are copyrighted.

(Please view pictures with your own risk, this creature isn't that nice-looking)

The goblin shark.

Goblin shark eating a fish.

Goblin shark trying to bite a human's arm.

Goblin shark head from below.

Goblin shark face from up close. Eye can be seen clearly.

This post was just a random idea that popped up in my head during the car ride to visit my grandpa. I decided to actually write it (despite having way better things to do). I think I might write about other sharks too. I kinda wanna write about the mako shark, the great white shark and the hammerhead shark as well. At least about them. Possibly about the megalodon. Feel free to ask any questions or request a post for any specific species of shark :)

I also want to share awareness about how misunderstood sharks are. I'll write a separate, short post about it sometime. Not here because this post would get way too long. I'll talk about the movies "Jaws" and "The Meg", because it's important to understand how these have affected our view on sharks.

Edit: guess who forgot to cite their sources *insert a skull emoji*

So then, SOURCES:

Goblin shark - Wikipedia (not the most reliable source, but I don't care)

Goblin Shark: Key Facts, Lifespan, Habitat and Information - Discovery UK

Goblin Shark - The Australian Museum

The goblin shark's slingshot jaws are the fastest of any shark species | How it works | Earth Touch News

All read on 21st January 2024 by me, The Abyss In Your Closet.

[she-karev]

Reconcile

Chapter: Two of Two

Age Rating: 12+

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

AN: Hey guys so this chapter also has a little bit of angst and psychopath kids, so you’ve been warned before reading.

Summary: Alex and Amber continue to work together and finally talk things out.

Words: 2857

I sit in the Chief’s office next to Alex as we explain to the parents our concerns over Missy after running it by Bailey. She was disbelieving at first but after we told her what Missy was like when we talked to her including her fascination with Gia’s death and my attack. After convincing her we opted to talk to the parents in private while a security guard kept a close eye on Missy at the waiting room. She wanted us to talk to the parents before calling the police. Now the mom is sitting wiping her tears with a tissue and the dad is as cold as ever.

I stayed silent as Alex started to explain the situation to the parents, “I would never want to do anything to make this worse or more complicated but Missy…she’s showing some signs that is raising our concerns. Risk taking, fascination with death, and taboo behavior that are typically associated with juvenile sociopathy.”

I clear my throat and decide he shouldn’t be the one to tell them the worst. I started this and I should be the one to bear the weight, “We um had a conversation with her and the way she acts and the way she talks…we think Missy was involved in Gia’s stabbing.” The mom is taken back and the dad doesn’t move at all like he knew it was a possibility. My heart breaks for them both, their child is on life support possibly because of their other child I would be numb too.

“That…that’s crazy.” Sylvia laughs it off and turns to Matt, “Tell her she’s wrong.” Matt just sits there numb and staring blankly at the wall destroyed. Sylvia tries again, “Matt?” Sylvia gasps, “Say something damn it!”

Matt finally turns to her and asks in a broken voice, “Sylvia, how can you be this blind? She was there just like she was there when the dog went missing and she was there when we found rat pellets in the thanksgiving turkey.” I look away as my emotions start to get the better of me and take a deep breath to calm down as the couple argue. Alex notices and holds my hand and I hold it back because this all of this…is just like the night my brother attacked me. The parents don’t notice us though thankfully.

“No your-your just upset.” Sylvia says in tears.

“Missy may have killed our child.”

“Missy is our child.” Sylvia says with a hiss.

I can’t be in here any longer and I get up from my chair, let go of Alex’s hand and walk out of the door calmly. It’s midnight so the hallway is pretty much empty. I try to make it to the bathroom but my stomach doesn’t let me and in a panic I open the red biohazard trash can and vomit my lunch inside. I don’t even realize someone is rubbing my back in comfort until I finally dry heave and wipe my mouth. I look and see that it was Glasses who rubbed my back and the idea that he saw me throw up makes me want to hurl again. But since I got my lunch and breakfast out of me I opt to pull away from him and go to the locker room to brush my teeth. He follows me.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks.

I hold my head up high so I don’t show weakness, “I’m fine tell anyone what you saw and I will perform a rectal exam on you without a lubricant.” He looks at me scared and backs off when we enter the lockers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After I brushed my teeth I headed back to the Chief’s office and ran into Alex on the way. He looked wrecked and honestly who could blame him after what just happened.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t stay it’s just I was-”

Alex shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it I get it this…this is triggering. A sibling tried to kill another sibling how can it not be?”

I groan at the comparison, “Yeah well, the only difference is Aaron was hallucinating and Missy was just having fun if she can feel that. It makes me sick.”

Alex rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah me too…are you okay?”

I sigh and rub my forehead as I feel a splitting headache, “I feel like taking a whole bottle of ibuprofen just to get away from this headspace.” Alex raises an eyebrow at my suicidal comment, “Don’t report me I’m being dramatic. How are the parents?”

“Mom stormed off and dad went back to Gia’s room, he’s trying to hold it in but this is wrecking him.” Alex rubs his tired eyes.

“And Missy? What are we gonna do about her? Have you called the cops?”

Alex looks back at me, “Yeah, we did but without a clear confession they can’t make an arrest. They suggested a wire and I offered to talk to her again and get her to say she stabbed Gia.”

“I’ll do it.” I suggest this crazy thing because I want to see this girl pay for what she did to her sister but Alex immediately shakes his head.

“No that is not a good idea. She’s dangerous and she already killed someone, I’m not letting you take that risk.”

“Alex I would be talking to her in the middle of the hospital full of security guards, doctor and nurses.” Those facts make me comfortable to do this, “And it’s not like she’s carrying and I took boxing for two years I can handle myself. The cops need a confession and I’m most likely to get it. I’m a girl, I’m around her age and she’s comfortable around me due to me satiating her psychopath side with the story of how I was attacked.” Alex sighs and still looks uncertain, “She could do this again and she might not come to the hospital next time where doctors will question her. I want to do this and I don’t need your permission.”

Alex looks at me worriedly and finally complies, “Fine but be careful.” I nod and we head back to the Chief’s office.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the cops gave me instructions and placed the wire under my scrub along my diaphragm, I head out to find Missy. I walk around the hospital for a few minutes until I find her in the family waiting room sitting there on the table looking at her phone. I inhale and exhale because the sight of her knowing what she did makes me anxious but I told Alex I could do this and I will. I approach her and sit in front of her.

“Hey Missy.” I keep my tone calm and even as per my instructions and she looks at me surprised to see me, “I’m Dr. Karev I don’t know if you-”

“Right you’re the girl who got strangled and attacked I remember you.” She says it coldly and I continue.

“Yeah well I wanted to come by and talk to you and see how you were doing after Gia. I know when one of my brothers got hurt I would always worry about them.”

Missy shakes her head nonchalantly, “Gia was just a little baby she was always crying and begging me to play with her. She would always barge into my room and annoy me.” The way she chastises her sister is the first emotion she displayed and it’s anger.

“Yeah I had a little cousin who did that.” I lie to relate to Missy like the cops suggested and groan to play along, “It would drive me crazy.”

Missy nods, “I’m not gonna miss that.” That one sentence sends chills down my spine but I persist as I’m getting somewhere and decide to kick into high gear.

Remember when we were talking about the man who attacked me? and you said he probably did it to feel more powerful? Well it turns out you were wrong.” Missy looks at me offended, “The guy was my brother and he didn’t want to hurt me, he loved me, he took care of me and…he was just crazy and he lashed out. I don’t think he was thinking about what was gonna happen after to him or me but I don’t think he really wanted to kill me just for the fun of it.” Missy looks at me like I’m the one who’s crazy.

“Well maybe he did I mean you don’t know what he was thinking.”

I shrug, “I mean come on Missy why else would you kill someone?” I ask as genuine as I can to draw her in.

“To know if you could really do it.”

I shake my head at her terrifying comment, “No I don’t think so, I mean to actually feel the life slip away from someone else it’s…it’s way too scary for most sane people and for my brother it was-”

“No I know what he was feeling I mean I know exactly how he was feeling.” Missy says with a grin that is chilling before leaning in and whispering to me, “I was the one who stabbed Gia.” I look at her with a blank face even though my terror escalates as my fears come true, “And it wasn’t that scary. I knew what I wanted to do and I did it just like with your brother he must have felt like it was the coolest thing ever when he was trying to kill you.”

I shake my head in disgust and stand up and walk out the door as I see the cops entering and arresting Missy. I pass Alex on the way who looks at me in worry and I shake my head at him before saying bitterly, “Dysfunctional families am I right?” With that I walk to the lockers to take a hot scolding shower and leave this damn day behind me.

After my Silkwood shower, I put my clothes on and am just about to put my shoes on when Alex walks in looking as exhausted as me. I am so tired I’m not even mad at him, I’m just numb and I know that tomorrow when I see him again I’ll be mad again. It’s a vicious cycle and I have to escape before my psychosis causes me to lash out at him like Missy did to Gia. I know I don’t have sociopathic tendencies but the way I feel around him is degrading to me and the career I have worked hard to get. I need to get out before it’s too late.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alex stands there looking at Amber with the same level of tiredness and numbness that she feels only he feels slightly worse because of what he needs to do. He needs to apologize and get their issues out of the way for both of their sakes. He starts by clearing his throat.

“Are you okay?”

Amber packs her stuff in her backpack not looking at him, “Sure a night of arresting a teenage psycho is just what I needed before collapsing on my bed.” Alex nods sharing her pain and her next words catch him off guard, “I’m gonna look for another program tomorrow. This thing.” Amber motions to both of them, “It’s gonna end bad and I need to get out and find something that won’t remind me of the worst time of my life every five seconds or undermine me because of my past.”

Alex looks down in shame over accusing Amber of being paranoid due to their mom and starts his apology train, “I’m sorry Amber and not just for today for all of it. I’m just sorry and I wish I could do thing differently.”

Amber shakes her head and closes her locker, “Don’t Alex don’t even bother the damage is done.”

“I never meant to hurt you.” Alex says it with sincerity and pain.

Amber looks at him with a blank face, “I’m sure you didn’t. I’m sure you didn’t even think about me. You saw a way out and you took it just like me only difference is I didn’t leave anyone behind with no defenses. Hell even Uncle Lucas gave a more of a damn than you and he hates us. But whatever reasons he had I’m sure they were better than yours for leaving.” Amber sits on the bench to put her boots on.

Alex’s shame gets deeper before he confesses an 8 year long secret, “I told him to.”

Amber looks up and raises an eyebrow, “Told who to do what?”

“I told Uncle Lucas to take you in and let you recover at his place until you graduated.” Amber pauses her laces clearly effected by his words as he continues, “CPS was gonna send you into foster care, Aaron was at the hospital and mom wasn’t a good choice so I made him an option. I gave him 8 grand to take you in and I told him I would pay him another 8 after you graduated. The bastard almost skimmed me but I told him I would report him for drug use after I found a stash of meth at his place.”

“Great place to dump your baby sister after she had her jaw reconstructed.” She says sarcastically.

“Well it was either him or do the foster lottery and you land in some rundown home with five other kids who will rip out your wires. And I made sure he was checked on. I called a cop buddy of mine and made him spy on you and him at the house and make sure he was treating you right or at least ignoring you.”

Amber ties my laces, “He did, he ignored me and I avoided him so I was glad to have one less thing for me to deal with. But just because you forced our inattentive Uncle to take me in doesn’t mean I forgive you. I appreciate what you did but you didn’t do much when you were around. The only reason I know you were there was because the doctors told me after I woke up that you held my hand for 10 minutes and then left. I tried to call you but you wouldn’t answer and maybe this whole me getting a job here was a subconscious decision to confront you and figure out why you left and that’s on me.”

Alex shakes his head, “No it’s on me. I started this by leaving and I know that wasn’t fair to you.”

Amber puts her other shoe on, “Your damn right it wasn’t.” Amber says with a vicious tone as she ties her laces.

Alex sighs and continues, “I know you hate me and you have a good reason to. I left you with a schizo mom who barely kept up with her meds and a brother I didn’t was gonna inherit the crazy gene. When I got a job here, I saw it as my ticket out of Iowa but I also saw it as my ticket out of our family. I told myself that Aaron was enough for you, that you were fine with just one brother, I sent the checks to help out because it made me feel better for abandoning you. I told myself that I wasn’t your father, that you were better off without me but you weren’t, it was clear to me that night when you needed me the most.” Amber stops what she’s doing as Alex brings that moment up and he sees it safe to sit next to her, “I held you hand for ten minutes; you were only 16, you should’ve been having sleepovers and shopping for a prom dress not being in a hospital after your brother almost killed you. I held your hand for ten minutes and then I left, Aaron was committed and so was our mom, you needed me and I wasn’t there. I told myself that I couldn’t take care of you that you were better off without me, that Uncle Lucas could do what I couldn’t. I…I wasn’t there I was the ass that can’t stand to be there and I’m older now and I know better now.” Amber is quiet as she feels a single tear down her cheek and wipes it away, “I should’ve done more for you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being your brother when you needed me, I don’t know if it’s worth anything. But I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

Alex says that with his eyes wet as he’s letting his feelings of shame and regret show to Amber who looks at him for the first time in appreciation and as her brother. She sniffles before saying, “It’s worth a lot but…we have a lot of work to do here.”

Alex nods, “Yeah…dysfunctional families am I right?” Amber sighs and puts her head on Alex’s shoulder looking to him as a source of comfort instead of a source of pain. It’s not magically fixed between them but that night is a starting point.

[wvspkick]

Kensei and the others are dead, it's your fault for being weak. "Super Mashiro?" what a joke.

“It’s your fault for being weak.”

Those words hit like a dual headed sledgehammer to the face. The wind was knocked completely out of her lungs, and she forgot how to breathe. Mashiro’s lips quivered, a lone tear threatening to fall. She had failed them all after she’s sworn to protect them all. But what good did it do? Only for her friends to end up like slain cattle. Mashiro had trained for years to be strong, something she had not been for the longest time. If anyone examined her now they wouldn’t believe the juvenile, bubbly, eccentric woman was once a shy and somewhat dour girl who had kept to herself. It was a pale comparison to her childish mannerisms. Mashiro, a child at the time, had been afraid to talk to people and had bouts of low self worth. She used to dream of being someone who could save people, who could help people— one day her mother took her out to a carnival to see performers. And that’s where the spark came from. Mashiro wanted to be just like them ! Adventurous! Daring! Not afraid of anything. That’s probably where she adopted the “Super Mashiro” moniker. Now it was just a joke. Her friends lay dead and she couldn’t stop them from meeting death, the inevitable. Just like she couldn’t save her parents. She felt so damn useless. The very word she used on herself aside from weak. All those years of training and fighting— wasted. Thrown away, just as the lives she held so dear. If a pin dropped she could hear her own heart breaking, silent sobs racking her body. A joke indeed. She couldn’t save her parents, she couldn’t even fight for her friends who’d been her family and only crying was her resolve. Because she was so goddamn weak. Mashiro had wanted to be a hero, one that everyone could rely on and cheer on. That’s why she had worked her ass off for years to get this far. She didn’t want to be weak anymore while she watched her teammates from the sidelines like a good for nothing.

“Kensei… I’m sorry,” she whispered as though he could still hear her. “Lisa, Hiyori, Love, Hachi, Rose— I’m so goddamn sorry.” The next sob she choked on, crying full on tears. That wasn’t going to bring her family back. How pitiful. How weak. She wanted wanted to punch several craters into the wall until her fists were raw, screaming until her throat was raw. But that wouldn’t mend her broken heart. She’d failed more people again. So much for being a super anything.

“I’m sorry mom and dad. I’m so sorry everybody, god I’m so damn pathetic. I’m a waste! What was all that talk and work for huh? I’ve lost everyone I’ve cared about! Super Mashiro— super weak and useless! I’m no one’s hero! Why couldn’t I do better?! Why couldn’t I have been stronger and fought harder!? I finally thought I’d achieved something after the academy… I joined Squad 9. I was happy! I was fulfilling a purpose! Now it’s too late because I was caught lacking, because I didn’t try harder… I promised I’d be stronger and faster. I used to cry my eyes out as a kid because I knew I couldn’t keep up with the others— they all had ambitions and goals. And I was just too meek and a burden. I wanted to make my parents happy, my sister, most of all myself. And now it all doesn’t matter. I lost you all…”

Now they all lay dead. Because it was her fault for being weak. What kind of friend was she to just let them all get killed one by one? She really failed everyone— she could feel her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. She just wanted to save them. She couldn’t. A joke she most definitely was, Mashiro lamented as more tears fell. As though that would resurrect her fallen friends so she could hear the echoing, “It’s all your fault Mashiro.” She knew Kensei would give her that look with those stern brown eyes, disgusted and angry. So many expectations just to drivel them away.

“I’m weak and a joke, and I can’t even apologize to anyone properly…” Mashiro wept silently as the voices won, as her tears remained the only sound other than her fragile heart.

“It’s your fault for being weak.”

Over.

And over.

And over.

And over again that’s what she heard.

“Kensei and the others are dead, it’s your fault for being weak. “Super Mashiro”, what a joke.”

A joke. She was. Weak. She most definitely was certain of this now.

Mashiro screamed yelled for her family, for failing them, herself, her parents, and her promise to keep them safe. It should have been just her, that way the proverbial blood on her conscience wouldn’t haunt her like this for centuries to come.

[sk-lumen]

Hello dear enchantress Lumen,

I hope you are well and safe♥️ I just came here to seek for some advice from you and ladies out there if possible. I often get men complimenting me on my eyes and lips, more so my lips (I know damn well what they’re thinking about while they’re at it lol) but it’s become frustrating and to a point where I am objectified because of my looks.

I feel like I am a shell with a pearl inside- weird comparison I know but men just rather focus on what’s on the outside paying little attention to what may be inside. I like talking about mind stimulating stuff and the conversations get dragged to sexual stuff. While I am playful being sexually objectified is really a buzz killer 😞They start asking for naughty pictures and such. Every conversation I make online or in person with men has to always start with me addressing the fact that I do not send nude photos or videos.

I do understand that men naturally have a big appetite for sexual things. My question is dear Lumen; How do I deal with men like that? To have them to see more than and past my looks, but the beauty within? And also how can I keep the sexual thing playful yet not super nudity type? (Like for eg can I pose half nude or wear things to still keep his i terest but playful enough to leave the rest of my body to his imagination, hopefully enabling him to see me for my soul as well) Please tell me tips you would think be best in how to keep men going sexually but not getting things over done, how to handle situations like this, etc)

Your advice and tips are highly valued and appreciated by me. Thankyou in advance. ♥️♥️

Hi darling,

Note: you pose some very good questions which is why I thought it's important to share it with others. I will mention that advice requests, which are slightly more explicit in nature, should be redirected to my personal inbox where I can reply in-depth: either in private, or share on the blog to help others as well. I'm happy to help, however such topics are not the main focus of my tumblr blog, which I would like to keep as a more light and safe space, welcoming to all regardless of goals or sensibilities. I'm open to everyone else's thoughts on this suggestion.

After reading your story, let me address each topic one by one:

You may be looking for gentlemen in the wrong circles. There is a repeating pattern here, and it is either from navigating the same circles, or attracting the same type of guys, or simply being surrounded by the same type in your local area. For this, I would advise to experiment and try new places more associated with higher value men (theatre, art exhibitions, museums, upscale restaurants, etc).

This whole trend with provocative photos is simply a result of the p*rn culture combined with consumerism, which has normalized the access to/objectification of female bodies as a product so to speak. Yes, it is unquestionable that the female body is a work of art - but unfortunately today's society does not yet understand this. Ignore the trend of n*des. Do not for a second succumb to it unless you are in a 100% committed relationship, completely trust your partner, and feel very much safe to do so — and even then, thoroughly considered. Is it worth risking things like having those photos leaked, your privacy and trust broken, just for a nondescript guy’s validation? The smart answer is simple: never.

Generally speaking, women have an equally big appetite. It’s simply about how both genders (or any gender) are socialized in expressing it. LVM learn that they can express it any way they wish, HVM act as gentlemen, as they should; whereas women oscillate between the double-edged blade of being too little or too much, either way facing risking judgement over it.

How to deal with low value men (because no man of class would ask for licentious photos, and I stand by that statement)? Block, delete, move on. If you are determined to embark on a journey of leveling up, you cannot waste time with such behaviour, dear ladies. There’s zero benefit, zero return of investment from engaging with men that have not yet reached the baseline of respecting you as an individual. There's no two ways about this, and there’s nothing to negotiate there.

You can’t make a man see, do or say anything. He either sees your value or he doesn’t. If you have to bring arguments to the table, the game is already rigged and you have lost, because the moment you question your worth is when they have already won. The only thing you should do then is find another table.

"Can I (…) to keep his interest" - Please don’t entertain this line of thought darling, it serves no one but LVM. You don’t have to do anything to keep someone’s interest, except be yourself. If you have to go above and beyond, bend over backwards, be someone you’re not, or step out of your comfort zone/boundaries at any point, it’s time to walk away. Besides, a man's interest is not a warranty for commitment or love.

Don’t rely on the mindset of luring in a guy with desire, to capture his heart. It should be the other way around, or simultaneous. But if he desires solely your body before even considering your mind, heart or soul… his priorities are clear, and they’re not likely to change.

My universal strategy for dating/relationships, which is in the best interest of your sacred feminine energy, the safeguarding of your heart, and the wise use of your time, is this:

Have clear standards, know what kind of man you’re interested in, take your time dating accordingly. When you find a good one, let him court you until he’s proven himself as a worthwhile companion that you can trust with all of you. Once commitment is made clear (and I mean clear, open commitment stated out loud, no juvenile "what are we" allusions), wait at least 3-6 months to further strengthen the relationship’s foundation of intimacy, and only then open completely.

It may sound complicated or long-winded, but it is a smart strategy for countless reasons: only a HVM will be patient, consistent and dedicated enough to stay for the long run all throughout. LVM will either bail, protest, test your boundaries, or other red flags which will reveal themselves on their own and spare you the trouble.

Hope this helps. Take care. ❤️

-Lumen

[imaginekhaos]

Look Me in the Eyes

NSFW

Pairing: Deku x Reader

Warings: unprotected sex, coercion, semi-public sex, dirty talking

Word Count: 3,911

This is my first time writing a fan fiction for BNHA and I’m really nervous. Any feedback is welcomed and I hope you enjoy. 

This is also really unedited so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors. 

* * * * * * *

Izuku Midoriya was many things. He was smart, determined and very kind. A flirt, however, he was not. You had developed a crush on Midoriya sometime around sophomore year, a few months into transferring to U.A. after your family's big move to Japan. It had started out harmless, a school girl crush with the intent of staying that way. You should have known better the second you met the girls of class 1-A and their giggling ways. Things took a deeper turn one night when you were all hanging out in Momo’s room, laughing, gossiping, and eating way too much junk food for your own good. The topic had naturally ended up on boys, specifically those in class 1-A. One thing lead to another and you eventually confessed your tiny crush on a certain green haired hero-to-be. Oh how you wish it had stopped there that night, but getting a group of girls together always ends up eventful.

“So,” Mina started mischievously from beside you, “who do you think is the most… endowed… of all the boys?”

The question caused many mouths to fall open at the abruptness but pretty soon thoughtful faces coated the entire room.

Mina continued, “I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were Kiri. He’s polite, manly and cute, so if he had a big dick it would just complete the package. No pun intended.”

Laughs rang out along with a few agreements from the other girls. Eyes trailed to your form sitting next to Mina, waiting for you to spill your thoughts. Heat engulfed your face, never expecting to have to answer this question.

“What about you, [Y/N]? Any particular green-haired, freckle-faced person come to mind?” Jiro teased.

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it before. Seems kinda r-rude, doesn’t it?” Stuttering your way through an explanation, hoping to diffuse the situation and detract attention from yourself.

Jiro rolled her eyes at your lame answer. Uraraka then chose to speak up in a voice barely above a whisper, “I bet he’s big… “ The blush on her cheeks was so dark that is was only outmatched by the one across your cheeks due to the thoughts that were running through your head. The rest of the night was spent laughing and spilling more secrets. It brought you all much closer as not only friends but as a new class of heroes.

Though the night went on as a festive blur, one remark in particular kept repeating in your head the next few days. Thoughts of hard muscle juxtaposed with soft skin and tufts of green hair. Thoughts of hot sweaty bodies intimately colliding. It was all too much! But, it was all in your head. No one knew the kind of lewd scenarios playing out in your mind. Especially Izuku. So, since he wasn’t much of a flirt, you weren’t surprised when he never noticed how bright your cheeks burned when his friendly touches lingered a little longer or how his eyes managed to make you feel so exposed when he studied you during training. Even if he had noticed he had been kind enough not to say something, no matter how bad you sometimes wished he would.

* * * * * * *

The last two years of high school went along without much of a hitch. As a class, you helped dismantle any trouble you came across and under the guidance of professional heros, you all managed to blossom into a promising new generation of heros. But with graduation comes separation. Many of the class broke off to find the region where they would be most helpful. Asui managed to snag a perfect placement on the coast, assisting in storm and water rescue while other students like Kaminari and Iida found agencies that had them doing all kinds of hero work. Even though you never left the area after graduation, you still found the perfect agency for you. It was small in comparison to some of the more well known ones, but they often assisted other agencies when short staffed or needed specialized help, so you couldn’t complain. Plus, all the other heroes were nice and very helpful when it came to learning on the job. It wasn’t until two years into the new job that the first real problem arose.

* * * * * * *

Slamming your fist on your desk you let out an aggravated groan. Tonight was a bust. There had been a new villain terrorizing the area around your agency for a few weeks now. They were strong, fast and impossibly hard to capture, always managing to escape their bonds before the could be truly apprehended. It made you so damn mad and made you feel like an awful hero because you couldn’t capture a single villain. You run your hands across your face and through your hair before rubbing your tired eyes. It had been too long since you had any quality sleep and it was starting to take its toll on you. With a sigh, you decided that the best course of action would be to call for some assistance. You got in contact with a local agency who agreed to send someone to help you with the problem. Thanking them, a huge weight felt lifted off your shoulders knowing that the villain would be caught within the week and you'll finally get some much needed rest.

The next day went forward rather uneventful until the evening. The extra hero was supposed to arrive early in the day for introductions and debriefing, but they had yet to show. Deep frown lines and worried creases overtook your normally cheery face. Why weren’t they here yet? Did they forget? What if they got caught by the villain, got dragged back to their layer and is currently being subjected to foregin tourture methods and no one knows where they are and- A very familiar head of green hair entered your field of vision, successfully ending the panicked mental ramblings. You had to take a second look. Surely they didn’t send him, he was much too busy to help with something this small.

Then your eyes met enrapturing green ones. They were the kind of green that spoke of lush growth in the wake of a forest fire. They were determined, fresh and held a new sense of warning that read: “I have power. I have authority. I will not start a fight, but I will end one” His eyes scanned the agency, noting every face, name and exit strategy he could retain before his eyes were caught on you. I bright smile spread across freckled cheeks, the glint in his eye gone and replaced with pure sugar. His steps quickened in your direction. Your feet were frozen as juvenile feelings came rushing back as fast as your heart was beating.  

Before you knew it, strong arms embraced you, snapping you out of your haze as you gently returned the hug. There were so many questions you wanted to ask, but your tongue was tied in a knot, filling your mouth and preventing any word from escaping.

“[Y/N]! I can’t believe it! It has been so long. How are you?” He spoke in a chipper voice, much too chipper for the feeling running through your body.

“D-Deku…?” you replied

“Yeah! Don’t tell me you already forgot about me, we were so close in school.”

“N-No I didn’t forget, I’m just surprised is all. I didn’t expect them to send their favorite hero to help out down here. Especially considering how low-profile this villain is.” you explained.

His cheeks warmed up at your statement. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes cast downwards. “Well, I actually volunteered to come help. I saw the request form and your name on it and thought I would lend a hand. I hope that is alright?”

It was your turn to blush as his statement registered in your mind. “Y-Yeah! That’s fine, we need all the help we can get and who better to help us than the future number one?”

His hand retreated into his front pocket, eyes turning slightly cold almost as if you had offended him by bringing up the topic of being the number one hero. He gave a slightly strained smile. “Well I’m here. What can I do to help?”

* * * * * * *

Both your lungs and legs burned as you ran after the villain you had been chasing for weeks. It was finally going to happen, you were going to catch him! Bursting through the warehouse doors the villain had just ran through, your eyes scanned the room for signs of movement. Your heart stopped as you realized there were none. Carefully examining the cargo garage once more, slower as you walked around checking every corner, you found it empty. Heavy footsteps followed after you. Izuku caught up to you, panting from the exertion of chasing the villain. He took a look around the space himself, noticing it was empty.

“[Y/N], how did they get away? What happened? Are you okay?”

A low growl escaped your throat, aggravation flowing hotly through your veins. He had escaped. Again! Think, think, think! Where could he have gone? Was it his quirk that helped him escape so many times?

“[Y/N]! What’re you doing? Aren’t you going to go after him?”

Those eyes. You could still feel their effect on you from earlier and it only intensified because you could feel them on you now.. He just had such an intense way of logging your every move. Don’t get it wrong, it was exactly this kind of awareness that would make him such a successful hero one day, but it made chills run up your spine when you would catch those orbs focused on you. They ensured that any shred of focus you had on the case was dissolved. You weren’t a school-girl anymore, so why were you acting like one? Getting distracted in the middle of a chase was a rookie move and you would be kicking yourself over it for days.

Eye twitching, you whip around to face Deku. “Will you stop asking so many questions? He just escaped like he does every time! I am trying to figure out a plan and I can’t think when you’re looking at me, much less speaking! You are just too distracting and don’t need to be thinking about what you’re making me and my body feel when I’m trying to work!” Huffing, it takes a second for your outburst to register. The angry heat flowing through you immediately turned to cold as all the blood runs from your face.

Those damned green eyes bore into yours with a fire almost as hot as the blush painted across his freckled cheeks. Desire rolled off of Deku in seering waves and you could almost feel it. He took a step forward, breaking you out of your haze. Immediately you began to stutter an excuse for your outburst, “D-deku… I didn’t mean to say that. It was an accident. You weren’t ever supposed to find out!”

He took another step forward and cocked his head to the side, that cold look from earlier clouded his face making him look like a completely different person. “Keeping secrets isn’t any fun, [Y/N]. It isn’t good manners and it hurts people's feelings.” He pouted slightly, “Is that what you wanted? Hm? To hurt my feelings?”

Quickly you shake your head, but still take a step away from him as he continued to walk your direction. “No! I just… I just didn’t want you to know.”

Another step forward. Another step back. “Want me to know what? About your crush on me since high school? Bunny, I already knew. You’re a very bad liar.” Gone was the sweet and caring Izuku you thought you knew. And gone was your escape route you realized as your back hit the cool metal walls of the warehouse. “And not only are you a bad liar, your body is too. I still remember that cute little blush on your face when I would touch you, much like the blush you have now.”

His chest pressed lightly against yours, hot and electrifying. Your body slightly trembled but you weren’t sure if it was from anticipation or from shame of loving his attention. His hands came to rest on the wall by your head, successfully enclosing you two together so all you could focus on was him.

The steady ring of his phone snapped your attention away. Not breaking his eye contact with your face, he grabbed his phone and answered it. After a few nods and yes’s and a few moments of you squirming under his gaze, he hung up and put his phone away.

“They caught him.”

Shock overtook your features, momentarily forgetting the previous predicament. “What? How did they get him? He escaped!”

A smirk crawled onto Midoriya’s lips. “I had a hunch that his quirk dealt with teleportation, specifically short range considering he never leaves this area of Japan. If I were trying to escape, I would lead my enemies to the lowest floor of a building and then teleport to the top, giving me ample time to escape in any direction without leaving a clue. Since most quirks have a drawback, I made a guess that a teleportation quirk would have a cooldown time, limiting the amount of times you could teleport. I then let the local authorities know. They did the rest.”

He seemed so proud of himself. Smug in the fact that he was right. What happened to the sweet and bashful Deku you knew, and what was with that look in his eyes? His scarred hand came up to push your [Y/H/C] locks behind your ears, drawing your attention back to him. His fingers trailed across your cheek bone, down to your jaw before squeezing both cheeks between his fingers making you look at him.

“Now, where were we, bunny? I think you were about to tell me about how you want me to touch you. Right?”

Speaking was difficult with the way he was squishing your cheeks, “I-I don’t think this is a g-good idea. Let’s just go h-home for the night.”

He sighed, a small amount of disappointment flashing across his face. “Oh honey, that’s not what I wanted to hear. Don’t you want me to touch you?” He leaned forward, lips touching the sensitive shell of you ear, “I know you’ve thought about me doing… things… to you before. I can read it on your pretty little face.”

“T-That was a long time ago. H-How are you so sure I still like you?”

A deep chuckle, “I know you still like me because you’ve been distracted since I walked in the door at your agency. Your thighs have been clenching on and off for hours and you can barely look me in the eyes. Do you need me to go on?” by the end of his explanation Deku’s lips were grazing yours. Half-lidded eyes stared at his mouth, focused on its movements.

With a sudden rush of courage, you pressed your trembling lips to his. Mouths moved together in sync. They molded together like two halves of a whole, sliding and caressing each other in a steamy dance. The tip of his tongue ran across the bottom of your lip as an invitation you gladly accepted. Your tongue gilded against his equally as eager one for a moment before you both broke away for air. A string of saliva connected your lips to his. He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily into your space just as you were breathing in his.

“Bunny, you know I can’t let you leave here without giving you what you want. Legs up.”

You followed his demand, jumping to wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he pressed you against the wall. His strong hands grasped your upper thighs just under the swell of your ass. He let out a breathy groan as he squeezed your plush legs, obviously aroused by their softness and their strength. Doing a balancing act, he propped you up on the wall with one arm and his knee just long enough to flip your skirt up and move your panties to the side.

As his fingers grazed your hot core, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. His touch was electrifying. It had been too long since someone had touched you like this and every brush and every touch causes your body to react, pussy clenching in anticipation. Your underwear were unbelievably wet considering how little Deku had actually touched you. Noticing this, a sweet smile spread across Deku’s face reaching all the way to his eyes causing them to crinkle at the corners. It was such a strange expression compared to the lust raging in his eyes. He looked pleased with your reaction and for some reason you felt happy that you could please him.

Suddenly you felt something large and hot rub against your lower lips. Looking down for a brief moment, your eyes widened from the sight. A thick and veiny cock slowly rocked along your glistening folds. When had he even gotten rid of his pants? He was much larger than you had originally assumed, but not comically massive the way most people would assume. The throbbing and prominent veins created a beautiful pathway to the tuft of green hair growing at the base and trailing upwards, disappearing under the top of his hero costume.

Deku chuckled, finding humor in the way you were staring at it and how you were analyzing every inch. His hips still rocked slowly against yours, gently nudging your clit. Just that small amount of friction caused your breath to hitch in your throat and before you knew it, you were already panting. His hand came up to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb traced gently across your bottom lip and your tongue darted out to capture it in your mouth. Deku hissed lightly through his teeth at the way you softly sucked and nibbled on his digit, your eyes half-lidded with ecstasy. Pressing his forehead against yours he spoke, slightly strained from having held back, “Are you ready, love? I can’t wait any longer. You’ll let me fuck you, right? Oh baby, I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Yore core clenched at his words, soundlessly nodding your head, releasing his thumb. “Please…” You sounded so desperate, so needy. This was a new feeling for you, arousal in its most primal form. All you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop no matter how exposed you both were and no matter how needy you sounded. In this moment, you’d let him do anything to you.

With your confirmation, he slowly began pushing his length into you. A groan left both of your lips at the same time. Inch after inch disappeared inside you and with every movement of his hips came a sound of pleasure from your lips. By the time his pelvis met yours, you were both covered in a thin layer of sweat. HIs from effort and restraint, yours from the heat of arousal.

“Fuuuck… You’re so tight, bunny. So tight for me… I have to move, love. You’re driving me mad…” His hips then withdrew from yours in a smooth and slow motion before pushing back into you a little faster than before.

“I-Izuku!” You called out, voice echoing through the empty warehouse.

“That’s right, moan my name, baby!”

He began to pick up speed, using your position against the wall to push you up and then drop you back down on his cock. He felt so big inside you, filling you up and making sure to hit all the right spots even ones you didn’t know existed. You felt you eyes begin to roll back as he kept pistoning in and out of you at a brutal pace. Hands quickly found the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling on the green strands.  It was all too much for you to handle and you could already feel the knot inside you tightening. Moans after moans were spilling from your mouth, almost incoherent in your lust-filled daze.

Deku could feel you getting tighter as he pounded into your sopping cunt. Your juices coated his cock along with your thighs. He’d never had anyone so aroused by him and he loved every second of it. Sweat dripped off of his brow and ran down his neck before disappearing behind the collar of his shirt. Your arms slipped from his neck and gripped his shoulders hard, nails leaving red crescents on his pale skin even through the fabric of his costume. The knot in your abdomen tightened even more as he rested his head on your shoulder and moaned deeply into your neck. His lips sloppily placed kisses up and down the column of your throat, tongue flicking out to taste your skin. It wasn’t long before his kisses turned to nibbles which turned to bites hard enough to leave bruises. But you weren’t complaining, if anything it only made you more turned on. Your hands threaded through his hair once more as you could feel yourself getting closer. You knew he was getting there too due to how sloppy his thrusts were becoming. He quickly looked up at you.

“You better look me in the eyes when you cum, okay? I want to see just how I make you feel. Show me that pretty face, love.”

You made eye contact with him. It was deep and sensual and way too intimate for you to handle in your current state. You remember how you felt every time you caught his eyes on you in class or training. You remember how they made you feel so exposed to him, and now that you really were exposed, it was like he could see your every want and need and he was determined to be the one to fulfill them. After a few more thrusts of his hips you could feel yourself unraveling. Stars danced in the corners of your vision as you reached your climax, body jerking against his and cunt quivering. He could feel your walls squeezing him, milking his cock and begging for his seed. Just as you were beginning to come down from your high, Deku’s hips stuttered. His hot cum painted your walls as he cursed deeply, filling you to the brim and then some.

Both of you were breathing heavily, still connected and embracing as the euphoric sensation stopped buzzing through your veins. His eyes were still searching yours, glazed over with want. Slowly he slid his softening member from your core and sat you down on your feet. You felt sore but so satisfied. Your thighs quaked from having to support your own weight again and small rivulets of mixed juices ran from your pussy and coated your thighs. You were truly exhausted.

Deku got himself dressed and situated before helping you get everything straightened out. He pulled you to his chest, lips pressing into your forehead quickly before he spoke.

“Let’s get you home, bunny. My place isn’t far from here.”

* * * * * * *

As you left the next morning after a shower and homemade breakfast, along with a promise for a real date soon, you sent a text you Uraraka with a simple message: You were right.

[fivegoldpieces]

Talks Machina at Gen-Con Q&A Highlights

Note: This only has the audience q&a portion. Cast answers are transcribed, side-comments and banter are only included if they are relevant to/answer the question posed. Apologies in advance to mobile-users if the read-more doesn't work - this is tagged as #long post if you want to blacklist it.

[[MORE]]

Q: For Matt; might we expect any possible homebrew releases coming out in the next year or so, like dunamancy?

Matt: I have plans. I can't say anything because I want things to be cool and surprising. But I have plans don't worry. It's not that I don't care, it's that I don't have time, but I'm working on it.

Q: For Taliesin; what would make Caduceus really angry?

Taliesin: I will say that he can get angry. It does happen. Juvenile disrespect does eventually get to him. Not a fan of pranking. I mean, you know, everybody's got some layer - there's some stuff. No one's that serene all the time. No one.

Q: For Taliesin; at the end of the Call of Cthulhu oneshot, you mentioned that you had a lot of mouse traps set up. I was just wondering, were the shadow people the most dangerous thing they could've released, or was there a more dangerous horror waiting that they managed to avoid?

Taliesin: I mean, if the cats had been released first, that would have definitely been an interesting thing. The cats would have been a problem. Also, if somebody had died really early, I was setting up a series of rules for dead players to continue to interact, which would have been really really unhappy and bad. And terrible rules for the things that were living behind the glass, and if you were stuck behind the glass, you were right there with them and they could really mess with you. Thankfully none of that happened.

Q: For Matt; you have the Tal'dorei Campaign Setting - I was wondering if you were going to do one for The Mighty Nein campaign?

Matt: I don't have a lot of time. Campaign settings are extensive. I'd like to eventually do something like that. I have materials, it's just assembling them in a way that can be legible by a non-crazy human being that I am. Hopefully! We'll see as time goes on. At the moment, we're consumed with this animated series that you guys helped make happen. Super excited about that. Keep an eye out as time goes on, because hopefully I'd like to get around to that. That'd be awesome.

Q: For Matt; what the hell was up with the undead vibe on Jamedi Cosko?

Matt: Yeah, that's crazy huh? That's a pretty weird thing. Yeah, there was something about him that gives off an undead vibe. Wonder what that means? I appreciate the question, but I don't know if that'll come back into play in some time. Let's see if it gets explored at some point, and if not at least I could tell you at the campaign wrap-up.

Q: For Travis; for the animated series, a lot of the characters have iconic catchphrases so I was wondering how you're going to translate "I would like to rage"?

Travis: Are we going to "translate" that? I think he's just going to say "I would like to rage". Yeah, we are definitely keeping iconic lines, moments, interactions, all those things will be there just as they were.

Taliesin: I'll also add to that - if you want to see somebody doing that and taking things that shouldn't actually work in-game and making them work in-game, Jody Houser is doing a great job in the comic book series of making you feel like somehow Matt is intertwined in everything that happens, it's kind of cool. Check it out!

Q: For Taliesin; a lot of comparisons have been thrown around between Fjord and Percy, and something that I noticed was Uk'otoa is being much more insistent than Orthax was - do you think if Orthax was as insistent and as keen on punishment, Percy might've gone a similar direction as Fjord?

Taliesin: Honest to God, and this is just from watching, I don't think Percy had nearly as strong a will as Fjord does. Watching Travis play Fjord was definitely like, "I did not have the balls to pull that off, oh my God." Percy was never about the hard choice, it was always about "what's the option C that I haven't figured out yet, there's a way to game my way out of this, if I just keep talking I can get everything to work" until the very end. Like chicken? Percy doesn't play chicken.

Laura (using Vex's voice): From firsthand knowledge, Percy does curtail very easily.

Matt: If you actually recall, Percy didn't even make the choice. Scanlan did for him.

Q: For Laura; when can we get a Caduceus tea set?

Laura: Oh, I heard a lot of "ooh's". Who would buy a Caduceus tea set? [audience applause] Well, shit, maybe I should look into it.

Sam: That's so many more people than who voted for me.

Brian: Not to be That Guy, lets just see how long his character lives, before we start making merchandise around him.

Q: For Sam; you are kind of the king of over-the-top and ostentatious whether it be with your character design, or your flasks, or things like that, and especially your outfits at the live events - how do you come up with these over-the-top creations and also how on earth do you plan on topping last night?

Sam: That last part will be hard. I think next year, I'll either come out totally naked or I'll just be so basic - pleated khakis, a polo shirt, I don't know. That outfit last night, it was pieced together from several different stores, I'm sure CritRoleCloset will figure it out at some point. But it was a challenge putting that together. And then, my fellow cast members, like two weeks after I bought all that weird stuff I wore, they were like, "hey let's go goth". So. Fuck you guys.

Q: For Travis; with Fjord's recent decision, do you see him changing outfits to fit his new or old persona?

Travis: I don't think so. Most of Fjord's armor was very piece-mail stuff that he got either from working on the docks, or stuff that he got from Vandren, or items that he was given just as he sort of accrued time and responsibility where he worked. I think that stuff's very dear to him, especially coming from an orphanage where he didn't have any possessions, so all those things that are actually his are very dear to him. He might add to those things, but I think underneath they'll stay there. He might augment them or change them a little bit, in the same way you would draw on your jeans in school or whatever, but that stuff's his so it means a lot to him.

Q: For Travis; after Fjord severed his pact with Uk'otoa, was there a larger fear in telling Beau and Jester what had happened, since he had been traveling with them the longest out of the Nein, or did his journeys with the Nein make that fear equal across all of the party?

Travis: I think actually he was worried about telling Beau and Jester the least, and maybe Caduceus in there as well. He knew he would hear about it from Nott, and Caleb had already sort of started to call him on his shit and saw through a lot of that stuff. He also regards the group as very powerful, so I think a lot of it is turning to his very powerful and talented friends and saying, "I don't have any of that anymore, I hope I can still play with you guys." Legit though, the response was amazing. It was absolutely incredible. Jester is so gregarious and loving and joyful and exuberant that I don't think he was worried about that, I think he was actually looking forward to telling her as one of the first people to know. And Beau is second-mate, so like ride-or-die or right?

Q: For Taliesin; I can totally be wrong for this, but just reading body language and facial features, there do seem to be moments where you're kind of just like, "I'm done with this" - I just kind of want advice, like how do you keep playing when your energy level might be low or you don't like where the story is going?

Taliesin: Oh, that is never "I'm done with this", what you're seeing is the "I'm trying to make sure no one notices that I'm reading my backstory notes". That's me reading, frantically. I'm a big believer in terror, terror is a great way to keep me up. "Oh God, I don't remember anybody's name, oh God how many siblings do I have oh God."

Marisha: Well, also you write your backstories like the Silmarillion, it's like, so intense. I'm like "my dad was mean to me" like that's my backstory.

Q: For Sam; based on the amazing reaction we've had to your DnDBeyond theme and the Critical Role theme, when can we expect a parody version of the 2010 hit "Like a G6" by Far East Movement as "Like a d6"?

Sam: Oh wow, that's good.

Marisha: Not to be that person, it already exists. The Library Bards did it. So, you should check it out. I mean, do a cover, Sam, I don't know.

Sam: There are more songs incoming, just so you know.

Q: For Matt; you say dunamancy can alter the reality and the fate of the person that wields it - is this an affront to the Raven Queen?

Matt: I would say, given the fact that elements of dunamancy deal with the manipulation of probability, destiny, things like that, the Raven Queen is probably not that cool with dunamancy. Just throwing that out there. One of the few things she's probably like, "Really, guys?" So yeah, I'd say you're on the right track.

Q: For Laura and Travis; do you talk to Ronin about your campaign?

Laura: So, Ronin, every Thursday night he stays with a babysitter at home, but he watches the opening of the show. Like, he loves the theme song so much. I sing it every time I change his diaper.

Travis: Same, like I know there's songs that parents sing to their kids - he's heard the damn theme song every day of his life.

Brian: But do you guys change the lyrics though, like "You shit your pants, I'm cleaning it up now", you know what I mean?

Liam: My kids bust into that song constantly. We cannot play a board game or anything. Someone goes "it's your turn" "TO ROLL" every time.

Q: For Marisha; I'm a huge fan of Jocks Machina and hopefully we'll get to see them on the channel one day - will Beau ever join Jocks Machina?

Marisha: What are the requirements, are there prerequisites for joining Jocks Machina? You're kind of the authority on this.

Travis: Guns. Abs. Likes to lift heavy things. Likes to break a sweat. Likes to whoop that ass.

Marisha: Check. Check. ...Check? Check. Hell yeah.

Q: For Matt; this is a rather involved conspiracy theory question, so excuse me - last year when the party was in Shady Creek Run at the Landlocked Lady Inn, they first arrived and there was a doorman named Champ who Keg knew. The next morning, they went down and there was a new doorman who said he'd been working for the Marduns for a few months and had bright red curly hair and vibrant green eyes and acted rather enigmatic and shady and shifty and was saying they should listen more and that he hoped that whatever they were after, they were on the right path. Later, once they recover everyone, Jester is asking the Traveler where he was, and he says he was always there. So my question is this: was that character the Traveler in disguise?

Matt: [several moments of silence]

Matt: That'd be pretty interesting, huh? That's a unique observation. I will confirm nor deny.

Q: For Matt; now that Fjord has effectively broken up with Uk'otoa, what do you think would be a more compelling storyline, or what are you most interested to see: him continue to take levels in warlock, possibly with an Archfey patron, or paladin...?

Matt: Part of what I really enjoy about this game is how the players continuously surprise me. I'm down to see what journey Travis wants to take. I'm curious to see how he takes this next path in his journey and which elements he wants to maintain, what direction he wants to go - he seems to be really finding interest in the Wildmother and talking to Caduceus about that, and that's kind of been an element of breaking that pact at the time, so I'm curious if he's going to continue down that path or see this as a blank slate to continue to grow. I'm interested to see the different decisions that Fjord takes, and Travis does through Fjord, and kind of adjust and build the narrative for that character around that. I can't say I have a specific path that I'm hoping for, because I have no idea what Travis's direct interest is, beyond just the actions he's taken in the game. Yeah, I'm just excited to see where it goes. I really love the idea of not knowing that as the Dungeon Master. As much as it's me building and world-planning, many of you out there who run games as GM know the most exciting part of the game is after all that prep, coming to the table and the players completely surprise you, and you kind of have to think on your feet and go with it. That's the best part of the game for me.

Q: For Marisha; what inspired you to play Beau a bit more shaken about her near-death than some of the other characters?

Marisha: Well, I was at 2 hit points the whole time - Liam can attest to that. So you know, I was kind of role-playing that. Shit's crazy man.

Q: For Liam; so you play your characters, both Vax and Caleb, very emotionally without any hesitation, and you're an experienced actor. What I wanted to ask was, something that people who try to emulate Critical Role don't realize that can happen when you try to put yourself into the character and get emotionally invested is character bleed. I was wondering how you deal with that, if you do at all. Like, if something really emotionally devastating happens to Vax or to Caleb, how does it affect you and how do you deal with it?

Liam: These feel like synthetic memories, so any time the superimposed fantasy friend gets killed or has to leave or whatever happens - that shit we carry around and get upset about. Every time we leave on a cliffhanger and someone's gonna die, we think about it constantly. Vax helped me sort through things, but made me more loyal and determined and willing to take chances - which in life I generally try to avoid conflict. Caleb, I still kind of drive around and think about him and still go, like "why did you do that?" He's really messed up, if I just think like, fireballs and cats like it's fun, and we can make dick jokes and it's fun. But if I really take a minute, I just go "Oh". I feel bad for him, I feel really bad for him. I have fun playing the game, and I love these guys, and I feel bad for my character.

Follow-up Q: Do you have ways that you learned to process that, like if you're at home feeling bummed about something that happened on a Thursday night, and you're like "man I need to get out of this funk"?

Liam: Yeah, I pull my head out of the game. I'll play a game with my kid, or watch a movie with my wife, or go running. Running is great. Not for your knees, but everything else. Or spend time with these guys out of the game. There's lots of ways. We're really invested in their stories, so it sort of drags along like coattails wherever we go.

Matt: To give you examples too, when he says "hanging out with friends", the group that's there, your friends that are in this game that you trust enough? You should all also support each other when those dark moments happen outside of the game. Whenever we lose a character in the game, we have like a wake. We go to an Irish pub that we go to often in Burbank, and we all get drinks and we have a wake for that character. And it's part of that process too. Even though it's imaginary, there's a part of that experience and journey that's come to an end and that deserves its respect as well, and we're all there to support the player. As a playing group, be there for your friends who may be going through that experience, because even though it is make-believe and it's a game, that is still a loss. And that's not a bad thing either. Loss is an important thing to process, because life comes with loss. Part of the wonderful experiences of role-playing games is that it allows us a safe space to explore very positive and very negative emotions in a healthy way and make us better people for it. So just be there for them, be supportive, and be the best friends and co-players you can be.

Liam: Part of the reason, I think, that we get upset when these fictional characters are killed is because we're playing this game of imagination together, and we form a chemistry together where we're like "we get to do this together, and it's always like this, and you're always funny like that, and you're always intense like this" and we really love that chemistry. Then somebody gets killed and they're gone, and that chemistry, which is something that we're like addicted to and love, that chemistry is gone. Like, when Molly was gone. Beau and Molly had this great "fuck you" "fuck you" butting heads thing - that's gone. We're actors, but anyone who plays this game extensively, you love the sort-of second life that you create for yourself and then when the character is gone, you don't have that unique mix anymore.

Q: For Laura; I really love how you play Vex and Jester, even though as two characters, they're pretty different from each other. But sometimes, you have an instance where like, your Laura shows. So I actually just wanted to ask, what was the biggest disconnect you've ever experienced between player versus character? If you've ever felt like, you as a person, as a player, would never ever make a choice in a situation versus what your character would do in that same situation.

Laura: I feel like everything my characters do, I wouldn't do in real life. Like, especially Jester. Travis and I have had these conversations: the joy of playing a character like Jester or like Grog, where you don't have to filter yourself - everybody, I assume, has these random really stupid things that pop up in your brain and you don't say them because everyone would judge you, and they're weird - and as these characters, you just embrace it, and it is so much fun. Talk about character bleed - it is an issue that I deal with now, because Jester has had that effect on me, and so I tend to say stupider things in real life now. No, but I would never deface anything in public, I would never steal anything.

Travis: You're not gonna attach any dicks on the walls.

Laura: I would not attach a dick to a wall in public. Or anywhere. I do eat a lot of donuts though, that's on me.

Q: For Matt; we've explored several places in the multiverse in your games, like the City of Brass, the Feywild, places like that - are there any places in the multiverse like the Astral Sea or somewhere that you, either as a player or as a GM, would have liked to have gone but have never had the time or resources to do?

Matt: Interesting. I do have some places that I really would like to explore, whether in this campaign or campaigns down the road. Astral Sea is interesting, it's a really weird amorphous plane, and I just love the prospect of one day throwing an Astral Dreadnought at these poor guys. He's my second to the Tarrasque. Oh they're fun, they're a good time. I've always loved Planescape. The City of Sigil would be great for obvious reasons of course. So I can be like, "no guys, this is where I learned my wrong pronunciation". But the City of Doors is awesome. Lady of Pain is a great element. Those who watched the Search for Bob oneshot, there was a Lady of Pain reference dropped in there. If you missed it, you can go back and look. Maybe there's a few doors in Sigil that lead to Exandria, who knows. Think about that for your home campaigns, huh? I want to go into some deep Abyssal planes too. We've been to the City of Dis, we've seen a little bit of the Nine Hells of Baator, though maybe not the harsher places. There's so many to explore!

Q: For Sam; Matt has said on Twitter that one of the ways you guys handle the pressures of the Kickstarter and the intense dramatic moments in the campaign is by checking in with each other and checking in on each other's mental health. I know you take on a lot of responsibilities with doing the DnDBeyond ads and the songs that you write and also your characters are often joking around with other characters and giving them a hard time so I was wondering, from your perspective, if you could give some details, without giving away anything too personal, on how to properly mentally check-in with your fellow players and just help everybody and check that everybody is doing okay.

Sam: Well, I'm learning from these guys, as we go, how best to do that. I'm weird in that, as weird as I am on-screen, I don't really talk very much when we're off-screen, or I keep my stuff to myself, more than some of these guys do. But they have, in the last few years, helped me sort of connect more with my best friends here. You know, we do check in a lot with each other, thanks to Matt and thanks to all of us. For instance, yesterday morning we all had breakfast together. It was really nice - we just talked about stuff, and it was just great to just sort of reconnect with everybody. I'm not an expert at this in any way, and in fact, on this stage, I am the least good at it, but I have endeavoured to become better at it. Opening yourself up to your friends and feeling comfortable enough to share your past or your worries for the future with your friends and not getting any judgement back is like, the greatest gift. If you have that with one person, it's amazing. If you have that with all of these people? Holy moly, it's the greatest thing in the world. I've tried to be better at sharing my stuff with them and being there for them. That's all I can do.

Q: For Marisha; in campaign one with Vox Machina, there's a lot of powerful badass lady NPCs, so if by chance, it all worked out timewise, who do you think Beau would be most likely to have a crush on?

Marisha: Kima. Yeah. Keyleth very much emulated Allura, and really looked up to her and kind of looked at her as a powerful female figurehead and took notes for leadership through her. Beau would just wanna fuck.

Q: For Liam; what do characters do in the campaign that you find funny no matter how old it gets?

Liam: Everybody throw in on this one. I'll never get over Laura waggling her eyebrow every third word in the game.

Taliesin: Slow snicker every time there's even vaguely a possibility of a dick joke.

Travis: I'd say every time there's a pain reaction out of Nott. It is hysterical to me.

Liam: I like any time, just the concept of death comes up or Molly - anywhere, in the game, out of the game - one of these people would be like, "Like you, you're dead!"

Laura: Uk'otoa.

Q: For Laura; do you think the volcano would be a good spot for Traveler on?

Laura (using Jester's voice): Okay here's the thing. Like, I totally did at first and I need to talk to him, because I think that now it's probably not, because it wasn't very expansive really, as big as I thought it would be, and there wasn't like a lot of beds, and like, no real good food. So, I don't know how many people are coming, but like, even just getting to the nearest hotel was really difficult, you know?

Matt: I love the idea that half of your sketchbook is Jester's tiny Yelp reviews of locations in Wildemount.

Q: For Laura; with all of the throwback to Vox Machina and Whitestone in the week before, how are you feeling with all of it?

Laura: I'm feeling very nostalgic.

Laura (using Vex's voice): Also, I would love for everyone to come visit.

Marisha (using Keyleth's voice): Me as well.

Laura (using Jester's voice): And also, if we did, I think we would cause a lot of problems.

Marisha: New pitch - Travelercon at Whitestone. We know the food is good, lots of lodging and room and board, no dead people in trees anymore.

Laura: All of the residuum that you could ever hope for.

Brian: And endless booze.

[Panel end]

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Baby You Were My Picket Fence [Chapter 3: Light My Fire]

You are a first grade teacher in sunny Los Angeles, California. Ben Hardy is the father of your most challenging student. Things quickly get complicated in this unconventional love story.  

Song inspiration: Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

Taglist: @blushingwueen @queen-turtle-boiii @everybodyplaythegame @onceuponadetectivedemigod @luvborhap @sincereleygmg @stormtrprinstilettos @loveandbeloved29 @ohtheseboysilove @jennyggggrrr @vanitysfairr @bramblesforbreakfast @radiob-l-a-hblah @xox-talia-xox @killer-queen-xo 

You open the front door and there he is: black button-up shirt, navy jeans, chic but not overdressed. His hair is neatly gelled back from his forehead. In his arms are a lug wrench, a car jack, and a brand new tire wrapped in an oversized, floppy red bow like a Christmas present.

“I think normal guys bring flowers,” you comment.

“I figured...since you’re automotively illiterate and all...you probably hadn’t gotten around to replacing the spare yet.” He shoots a glance at your Elantra, then announces victoriously: “I was right!��

“Mr. Hardy...Ben...I really can’t allow you to perform any more free labor.”

“Five minutes,” he calls over his shoulder as he trots to your car. He has trouble with one of the lug nuts, so it takes him six and a half.

“You can come inside,” you tell him once he’s finished. “I won’t be long, I just have to water my plants.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. It’s dark and rather undomesticated, yet endearing. “I feel like there must be better stalling tactics than that. If you’ve got cold feet, I can handle rejection.” But what he can’t do is disguise the way his shoulders slump, the way he bites the corner of his lower lip apprehensively.

“No, really, it’s totally stupid, but I’m really trying not to kill this batch and if I don’t water them now I’m going to be stressing about it until I get home, and I don’t want to be thinking about houseplants all night, I want to be thinking about...” You wave your hand towards Ben inarticulately. “You know. You.”

He smiles, showing his teeth, his eyes lit up like embers, flickering and radiant and warm. “Take your time, Martha Stewart.” 

“My parents give me so much hell for this,” you call back to him as you flutter around the living room, standing on your tiptoes and reaching around furniture to water your peace lilies and spider plants and devil’s ivy and one wilting ponytail palm. “They’re farmers. They’re professional life-givers. I’m lucky if I can keep the cactuses alive.”

You hear Ben rambling around the kitchen. “I hope your nurturing skills are at least marginally better with first graders.”

You laugh, nodding even though he can’t see you. “I’m alright with those. I’m just more of a rock person than a plant person. Gems and minerals and volcanic glass...fossils and bones and teeth...that’s where the magic is for me.”

“I can see that. Dinosaurs are well-represented in your extensive fridge magnet collection.” There are clicks and scrapes as he rearranges them: prehistoric animals and tiny planets, peace signs and alphabet letters and cross-sections of agate. “These are so cool!” he exclaims.  

You bustle back into the kitchen, place your watering can in the sink, and wipe your hands with a dishtowel patterned with cartoon brontosauruses. “Ready?” Your eyes flick to the refrigerator. He’s organized your magnets into a giant smiley face. It’s ridiculous, it’s juvenile; but you feel this liberatingly simple joy flooding through you like early autumn air. And the way Ben’s grinning at you—a little mischievous, a little proud—reminds you so much of Eli that your breath catches in your throat. You have no idea who Eli’s mother was, but her genetics were omnipotent; it’s almost impossible to find any of Ben in him at all. But every once in a while there’s an unconscious gesture, an off-kilter smile, and suddenly you can see the common threads that wove them into being like spiders’ webs.

“Ready,” Ben agrees.

You smooth your dress as you slip into the passenger’s seat of his Lexus, placing your purse between your feet, checking your hair and makeup in the sun visor mirror. Ben glances over at you as he shifts the car into reverse and roars out of your driveway. Your hands aren’t shaking, your heartbeat is hushed, there’s no hot rushing blood in your cheeks or ears; this shocks you. It’s eerie how inexplicably at ease you are.

“Find something good,” he says, pointing to the radio.

You seize the dial. “Uh oh. My first test?”

He smiles, his eyes on the road now. “Choose something lame and I abandon you at the nearest sketchy-looking gas station.”

You flip through stations until you find Somebody To Love. “I work hard, every day of my life, I work ‘til I ache in my bones...” “Okay, how I’d do?”

Ben steals a suspicious peek over at you. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What?” you ask, bewildered. “No, why?”

He shakes his head. “Never mind. You definitely pass. You’re a Queen person?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely, I adore Queen. Most classic rock, actually.”

“So have you, uh...” He touches his chin thoughtfully, what you’re quickly realizing is a little nervous tic. It’s cute as hell. Goddammit, daddy demon, stop being so fucking perfect. “Did you ever see Bohemian Rhapsody?” But something gives you the impression he already knows you haven’t.

“Not yet,” you confess.

“Not interested?”

“It’s not that, I just...” You hesitate, trying to put it into words. “I know it did well and all. But I guess I’m skeptical of anyone trying to play Freddie Mercury. He was a legend, he was one of a kind. So are the rest of them. Those are massive shoes to fill. It seems like setting the actors up to pale in comparison.”

“I’ve heard it was pretty good,” Ben presses, almost teases.

“Yeah, maybe...”

“And Rami won the Oscar. So his portrayal must have been satisfactory.”

“Okay, oh my god, I’ll see it, are you happy now? Were you on the marketing team or what?”

You’re only half-serious, but Ben chuckles evasively. “So you like old rocks and old music,” he pivots. “But not old not-boyfriends. Except Jeff Goldblum.”

“This is news to me. I sincerely thought you were sixty.”

He laughs, a full gutsy laugh this time, a laugh that says he’s caught-off guard and thrilled about it. “That’s okay. I’m into old stuff too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Old music, classic rock, just like you. But old books too.”

“Gatsby?”

His eyebrows leap up; you’re watching his face as streetlamps illuminate the car in reiterating flashes like a spinning pulsar. God, he’s beautiful. “How’d you guess that?”

“Eli’s middle name is Fitzgerald. That’s not a common one.”

“Ah,” Ben says, and his full lips turn up at the edges into a smile, proudly, fondly.

“I really like it.” That’s the truth; Eli’s a handful and that’s a titanic understatement—though he has been better the last few days, the only blip on the upward trend being his attempt to convince Brayden to eat a live cricket by paying him in Oreos—but his name is classic and elegant and a few literary references here and there never hurt anyone.

“Yeah, that was me,” Ben reveals. “His mother insisted on choosing his first name, I think she heard Eli somewhere and just liked the sound of it. But she let me pick the middle name. And The Great Gatsby was always my favorite book...and The Beautiful and the Damned, and This Side of Paradise?! Freaking incredible. In my humble opinion F. Scott Fitzgerald is a certifiable genius. So...Eli Fitzgerald.” There’s a color in his voice you can’t quite read: the golden yellow of reminiscence, the murky blue of loss, the grey nothingness of depression, the bloody maroon of deep pain or resentment. Who was she, Ben? How did she hurt you? And could I ever fill those hollow places you’re carrying around like pocket change?

He asks how Eli is doing in class, and you tell him; you ask about his favorite classic rock bands, and he answers: Boston and AC/DC and The Stones and Queen. His Lexus cruises by your go-to dinner spots—the affordable chains like Noodles and Co. and Panera and Chipotle—then past the mid-level raw vegan and farm-to-table joints, and finally into the neighborhood reserved for fine dining establishments with three-figure price tags and reservations booked up months in advance.

“Uh...” you begin. “I don’t think we’re going to get a spot at a place down here.”

“Think again.” He parallel parks with absurd ease in front of an Italian-Japanese fusion restaurant called Nejire. There’s a line of people in suits and evening gowns waiting at the door. You feel like a minnow in a shark tank.

“Ben...”

He comes around to your side of the car, opens the door, and holds out his hand. “You trust me?”

Do I? You take his hand in yours like a life raft. “Don’t let me down, Mr. Hardy.”

Unpredictably, fantastically, he brings your knuckles to his lips. “You got it.”

He spirits you inside, past the line of waiting customers, past the hostess and waitresses; they glimpse up and nod at Ben as he draws you through the main dining room and back to a VIP table in a dimly-lit, quiet corner of the restaurant. Oh, you realize with awe and trepidation. He’s an important guy.

You take your seat and open a menu as waitresses array full glasses of water and wine across the table. There’s nothing under fifty dollars. You flip to the salad page, searching desperately.

“What are you doing?” Ben asks gently.

“Um, nothing, just browsing...”

“You’re not paying for any of this,” he says point-blankly.  

“That’s not very feminist of you,” you quip, but on the inside you’re sinking. This is too much, this is way too much. I can’t let him do this for me.

“I’ll explain later. Trust me, we’re good. Order something expensive or I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m a teacher, Ben. My idea of luxury is Olive Garden.”

He grins at you boldly, almost roguishly. “Oh we are going to have so much fun together, Miss Y/L/N.”

Orders are placed, wine is sipped, appetizers are ferried to the table. As you nibble on ahi tuna tartare and caprese sushi, you find yourself lost in how Ben motions wildly with his hands as he tells stories, how his large emerald-or-jade-or-malachite eyes gleam when he’s animated, how his voice is so rich and deep and yet mild, how it suddenly feels like you’ve known him your entire life. Oh no. Oh no, I like this guy a LOT.

Ben abruptly stops eating and cracks his knuckles. “So there’s something I need to tell you. Since we’re...” Air quotes. “Not dating.”

Oh fuck. He’s married or something. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“It’s about my job.”

Whew. “Ah yes, your elusive profession. You can tell me the truth if you’re a dogwalker or a circus clown or something. It’s always nice to out-earn someone. Actually, dogwalkers in L.A. probably make more than me...”

“I’m an actor.”

“Oh,” you reply cautiously. “Like, for tv shows or independent films?”

“No,” he says, amused. “For major films.”

I knew he was too fucking gorgeous to be a normal person. What am I doing here? “Like what?”

“Well, recently, Bohemian Rhapsody.”

You choke on the white wine you’re drinking and cough and gasp into your cloth napkin.

“You okay?” Ben asks. “Don’t die. You can’t die yet. You haven’t tried their tempura crème brûlée.”

“You...” You cough once more. “You were in the movie that made $900 million dollars...?”

He grins toothily. “So you were keeping up with it!”

“It was hard to miss that tidbit. It was all over the news. BoRhap won the Golden Globe.” Your head is spinning. “You’re an actor,” you repeat.

“I played Roger Taylor.” The brilliant, obscenely good-looking drummer, the man who wrote Radio Ga Ga and These Are The Days Of Our Lives and A Kind Of Magic.

“Oh my god, Ben!”

“I mean, I’ve been in other things too—”

“Ben!”

“Look, relax, we’re cool. I’m not telling you this to freak you out, I’m just explaining that you don’t have to worry about dropping a few hundred bucks at dinner. You have a right to know who I am if we’re going to be...involved. And there’s something else.” He wrings his hands. “I have to be...discrete about my personal life. Try to stay under the radar.” But now that effortless comfort is strained somehow, weighted, ominous; Ben averts his eyes. There’s a presence in the room like a storm cloud, trapped pulsing lightening igniting the opacity from within.

“Sure,” you say, thinking that a life in the spotlight can’t always be easy. “Lowkey. I got it.”

“Awesome.” He’s relieved.

“I have to keep it on the down-low too. I’m a pretty important person myself. A bunch of six-year-olds would lose their minds if they knew about my extracurricular activities. They would color such scandalous pictures in art class. Premarital dinner dates, maybe even handholding. Yikes.”

That makes Ben chuckle; the shadow is nearly lifted. “Keep drinking, Miss Y/L/N. I’m loving this.”

And it should feel weird or frightening or wrong that he’s using the word love this soon, this casually; but it doesn’t at all. It feels anything but wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your feet are on your kitchen floor, your palms empty. Ben’s fidgeting around, his hands in and out of his jean pockets; it seems like he’s trying to say goodbye, but maybe he’s not.

“So...” he ventures.

You wonder if he’ll touch you, if he’ll kiss you. You try to catch his eyes, but they’re everywhere except meeting yours. “Hold that thought.”

You dash down the hall to your bathroom to smooth your hair, touch up your makeup, swish some Listerine. On the way back to the kitchen, you stop in the living room to check on your plants. If it’s possible, they look a little perkier than they did when you left a few hours ago. You run your fingertips over the broad leaves of your peace lilies, smiling faintly to yourself. “Maybe we’re going to make it after all,” you whisper.

You hear the distinct clicking sound of iPhone texting. “Oh shit,” Ben mutters from the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I gotta go, Y/N, okay? I gotta run. But I’ll call you. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, just a sec...” But by the time you rush into the kitchen to say goodbye, Ben is gone, the screen door swinging forlornly. Puzzled, you lock the door behind him as headlights flare to life in the driveway and swiftly retreat into the night. Then you turn around.

Your fridge magnets are rearranged again, this time in the shape of a heart.

[phantomphangphucker]

Legless On Maim Chap. 6: The Timeless Combination Of Pancakes And Suffering

Danny proves he doesn’t know the definition of ‘take it easy’, Lewis becomes a tie thief, and the Fenton parents have a crisis. But at least everyone gets pancakes.

Danny breaks the stretching out silence, with the sound of syrup dripping from the ceiling as the only noise, by smirking at the staring doctor and speaking thick with humour, “what ya staring at, ya two-legged freak”.

No one says anything for a beat until a pancake peels off from the ceiling and lands on the floor with a thwap, Lewis wheezes in laughter a little, “at least no one has to worry about you splashing around in pancake rain puddles or something”, shaking his head and decidedly giving the floor pancakes a very wide berth as he walks over to genuinely inspect Danny’s braces. Looks intact doesn’t equal intact after all. And considering stuff exploded, he thinks checking Danny over is only logical, expected probably, “a friend of mine did something like this with eggs and whip cream once. They were trying to bake a cake”.

Danny holds his arms out to the side a little while his folks fail miserably at subtly making a point not to stare. Valerie quirks an eyebrow while shaking off her hair, asking a bit cautiously, “was whip cream supposed to be part of the actual mixture? Usually that’s reserved for toppings”. She’s opting to studiously ignore the exploded food, she knew this was rather ‘normal’ in the Fenton house; but that didn’t change the fact that a bomb going off and getting splattered in food, wasn’t her idea of a morning pick me up.

Lewis shrugs, responding after giving a curt nod at Danny’s intact -it’s a miracle!- torso brace, “I’m not about to claim to know what they were using it for”, smirking mischievously ever so slightly, “might not have been for the food at all”.

Jazz pulls a face, quickly joined by Danny. While Maddie coughs, actively looking to brush away the -rather adult- implications of that statement, “well I certainly hope we have more experience with food exploding than your friend”.

Danny makes an even more disgusted face, considering what Lewis’s friends ‘food’ largely was, Danny seriously hopes that never explodes, “please tell me that has nothing to do with the questionable mess they needed help cleaning up yesterday”, smirking slightly and pointing around at the mess, “and no one whips up food-based detonations like a Fenton”.

Valerie rolls her eyes while taking a towel from Jazz and wiping off Danny’s hair some. Which makes Jack grin like an absolute fool. Something tells him those two are a thing again. Which is great! Danny-boy was definitely happier when they were together last time and clearly -watching her shake off the towel and her hands like it was just water from washing the dishes or something- she was completely cool with Fenton family oddness. Plus, watching her pat Danny’s tail after disposing of the towel, and the tip of said tail coiling around her wrist slightly; she was also cool with ghostly oddness.

Lewis brushes off some ash from his pants before squinting slightly at Danny and shaking his head with a smile, “how’d you know about that?”. It was starting to seem like Danny just knew things he arguably shouldn’t. At least with ghost stuff it made more sense though.

Danny smirks a bit meanly, “I have my ways”, but relents after a beat and shrugs exaggeratedly, “Anne told me, though that doesn’t answer my question”, smirking again, “and I do tend to know things I logically shouldn’t”.

Valerie groans and mutters, “tell me about it”. Making Danny snicker, which she whacks him lightly on the head for.

Lewis raises an eyebrow at Danny but answers his question anyway, “there was no explosions involved in their little mess yesterday. But there was some very unsafe knife handling involved”. Lewis would like to bring up Danny’s very much unsafe handling of knives as well, judging by the knife swallowing trick he had pulled with clearly frequently practiced ease. But Danny likely wouldn’t appreciate that around Maddie and Jack.

Danny nods once and rubs his neck a bit awkwardly, somehow he’s sure this was more ‘someone was stabbed’ and less ‘cooking mishap’. Though Danny’d rather not think about how someone getting stabbed might actually qualify as a cooking mishap to those two.

Jazz just shakes her head and gets up, efficiently getting the -over-used- clean up kit out and setting to work. Danny only watches her swirl syrup around on the floor for a beat before asking, “why aren’t you using the vacuum?”.

Lewis raises a very dubious eyebrow at him, “that’s not what vacuums are for, and why do you just make a habit of collecting information?”.

Danny chuckles slightly before sending Lewis a very obvious ‘you damn well know why’ look, while also conveying that Lewis should ‘shut the fuck up’. Lewis rolls his eyes ever so slightly, easily conveying his own message that Danny is ‘too goddamn paranoid’. Which Danny rolls his eyes over right back before looking away and sticking his nose up in the air a little. The very juvenile response of ‘talk to the hand, ‘cause this face ain’t listening’ is a bit obvious.

Jack, oblivious to the weird exchanging glances between Danny and Lewis, excitedly jumps up and booms, “our vacuum works on everything! Even ghosts and fridges!”, before deflating a little, “might tear your hair off though”.

While Jazz sighs and actually gives Danny the answer he’s looking for, “dad broke it when he sucked up a natural portal. It inverted and got sucked inside itself then imploded”. Danny nods like this makes perfect sense. While Valerie just finds herself experiencing the usual levels of both awe and horror she feels whenever FentonWorks inventions get brought up.

Lewis mutters, “that sounds physically impossible”, then looking to Maddie and Jack, because they’re the ‘experts’ so that’s what’s appropriate, “a natural portal? As in different from what’s in the basement?”.

Danny beams a little, pretty well doing a slightly jarring one-eighty from his previous slightly annoyed demeanour, “so they showed you that gravely big invention? The deathly key to half our ghost focused prowess?”. Valerie just sighs, though it’s pretty close to a groan. So Danny counts it as a win.

Maddie chuckles a little looking at Danny softly before looking to Dan and nodding, pushing herself off the edge of the counter and moving her hands a bit animatedly as she responds, “indeed. Back in our college years we weren’t sure natural portals truly were a real occurrence. They seemed more myth than truth-”. Jack jumps in, sticking a finger in the air, “because surely the Earth would be over run with ghosts if there was just portals to our world cropping up all over the place!”.

Maddie nods with a smile at Jack before looking back to Dan; who’s muttering about how ‘oh yeah, I remember them talking about that’. Maddie picking back up, “we’ve come across a total of three, so they’re very much real. Simply very uncommon”, nodding curtly before putting away the dishes and sweeping some of the destroyed pancakes into the trash, never noticing Danny’s eye-roll as she continues speaking, “combine that with them only staying open for a short period of time and that ghosts would actually have to find said portal to use it, it’s easy to see why ghosts haven’t been able to use them to take over”.

Jack nods and smiles at everyone, “and they’re probably totally random! No way there’s something that could track those things!”. Lewis quirks an eyebrow at Danny snorting mockingly but covering it up with a cough. While Jack keeps speaking, “and! While ghosts certainly have some level of planning and intellect, with being able to plot their tricky schemes after all!, they’re certainly not intelligent enough to formulate a full attack plan to take advantage of the temperamental nature of natural portals! That’s why they like our stable constant man-made portal so much! Just another example of besting those ghosties!”.

Lewis makes a point to frown only slightly at that, though both him and Danny are surprised and pleased that Maddie cringes and frowns a bit herself.

Maddie glances at Danny and bites her lip slightly. Meanwhile, Lewis firmly remembers Danny’s little shpeal on why ghosts generally don’t look to take over the living world. Course, not all of the reasons Danny gave can be repeated by him, especially verbatim. Partly because there’s no way a regular human doctor should know about the general workings of Obsessions and how ghosts think. And telling them that ghosts just view humans as lesser beings, wouldn’t make any human happy. Though Vee would absolutely agree. Lewis pipes up, “they have their own dimension, so I think it’s much more likely they’d simply have no desire for our dimension”, Lewis rolls his hand around and sits, taking a plate of -not destroyed- pancakes, “especially considering that the Ghost Zone caters to them, correct? For any being to try taking over someplace less suiting and even aggressive towards them for no true gain, would be beyond petty and would actively do themselves a disservice. It would be like a goose trying to take over polar bear dens”.

Danny snorts and wheezes, “that is an extremely odd comparison”.

Maddie mutters, “they don’t think like you or I. You can’t really apply human logic”. While Jack shakes his head a little, “they’re petty things but clearly there’s some kind of draw to our world. Our worlds definitely better! And I’d say they like the fighting, darn aggressive things”.

Danny snorts, he’s not going to deny the fact that a lot of ghosts were pretty aggressive and definitely petty, but, “ever met a goose? Those things are mean”, glaring at the table and where he knows a very particular scar is on his right hand a little, “I’d cuddle a polar bear or sit in a box with the Box Ghost before I’d hang out with a goose”. Valerie makes a face at Danny, seriously wondering what geese have done to Danny to elicit that kind of hatred. Especially for someone who seemed so scared of ghosts to be willing to hang out with one. Even if it was just the Box Ghost. No way anyone could be afraid of that one.

Lewis smirks, “there’s a story there”. Danny genuinely debates elaborating but a knock on the door puts a nail in that train of thoughts coffin lid.

Jazz talking over her shoulder as she heads to the door, “I’ll get it”. While Maddie sighs, “probably more salesmen”, before frowning, remembering the possible threat of the G.I.W. and promptly moving to block the doorways view of Danny. Lewis starts on his pancakes as Danny quirks an eyebrow at his moms' protective behaviour. Not that he didn’t appreciate it, but protecting was his job and he doesn’t need to be protected.

Jazz smiles at the two teens in front of her, pointing over her shoulder, “there’s still some intact pancakes if you dare”.

Tucker grins wide and practically shoves his way past Jazz, “oh I totally dare!”. Waving at Danny as he grabs a plate and not really even caring if some of the pancakes he grabs are not entirely intact, “sup Danny dude. Just here quickly”, before giving a thumbs up to Maddie and stuffing his mouth.

Sam shakes her head and sighs, leave it to Tucker to be utterly food-obsessed. Walking in and throwing a harsh glare at Valerie as she takes a seat on the opposite side of Danny and a -drastically smaller- plate, while tossing a stack of papers in front of Danny, “Lancer’s made us the homework delivery service”.

Danny groans loudly and quickly flips through the stack, though it’s very ungraceful due to the braces, “ugh. Can I just go back to being buried under twisted metal?”. Jazz just sighs and finishes up cleaning, though internally wincing a bit at her mom grimacing over Danny’s comment. Her dad clearly hadn’t really noticed, normally neither would her mom but she was paying more attention to Danny in lue of the injuries and believing they’d nearly lost him. Danny was used to them not noticing things, and now they were noticing. To a degree anyway. Realistically Danny should be more cautious not less, but obviously he’d gotten somewhat used to being slightly more open. She’s got a feeling Lewis is both to thank and to blame for that. Which only further assures her that the doctor is extremely unusual. At least Danny had an adult he at least slightly trusted, she definitely had her worries that only receiving true support and acceptance from teens would harm his psyche. In fact, she knew it has already. Every adult that he felt should have supported him positively, hadn’t yet. Vlad, the other halfa that should have felt comradery and positive protectiveness towards the younger halfa. The only other like him, the only other who could truly understand what it was like. Instead became one of the worst people in her brothers' life. Even if Danny, always too good for his own good, never seemed to give up on the man.

And then there was their parents, listening to them talk about torture and dissection just wasn’t healthy. There was no way around that, there just wasn’t. Yet it was her, not her brother, who held out hope they’d accept and love him. Maybe he had more hope in Vlad due to species, due to that comradery that Danny definitely did have. But he was ‘the bad guy’, their parents were just...uniformed and bigoted. But she also knows that Danny, at least on some level, wanted them to change their views without them knowing he was a ghost himself. Without them changing their opinions because ‘there’s no way our boy could be evil, so ghosts must not be all bad’. And she gets that, their change in belief would be less genuine if they changed their minds on ghosts just because their boy was one. He would always wonder if they truly changed or if it was only him they saw differently. If they just refused to let themselves believe something purely because it meant thinking bad of their son. If they’d still be fine viewing other ghosts negatively, even if they never voiced it. If they’d still hurt other ghosts, without care or worry. So because of this, because she knows that’s how Danny thinks, she’s okay him hiding, keeping his secret. Until the day they change. Until they get better, be better. Until he is satisfied, both in his willingness to trust them again and in his protective feelings toward one half of his species. Sending a slight smile to Lewis, when the doctor just chuckles slightly over Danny’s comment. Maybe Lewis was just the thing her family needed.

Meanwhile, Valerie rises to the occasion and proceeds to engage Sam in a glaring match. If the goth wants to be overprotective and petty, fine, two can play that game. Wasn’t like being annoyed with Danny’s friends was all that hard, she was still a bit peeved they’d known about her ghost hunting and just didn’t tell her. Not to mention they weren’t even slightly intimidated, she was a damn good fighter and the whole damn town knew it. They knew she was constantly armed and could summon weapons in seconds, yet they weren’t even slightly deterred from getting in her face and threatening everything under the sun. At least Danny not caring made sense, his parents were ghost hunters for peets sake! But to also get that from the two teens was a bit infuriating, and fine, it bruised her ego just a little bit.

Tucker snickers and side-eyes Danny, “you’re sandwiched between to dangerous ladies. I’m not sure if I should be jealous or plan your funeral”.

Danny snorts and points at him, “the universe already owes me a funeral or two”. Tucker snorts right back and mutters around a mouth full, “ore lug undered”.

Lewis tilts his head, “you know, my one friend did actually have two funerals”, waving his hand slightly dismissively at Maddie and Jack, “but don’t worry, they’re still alive”.

Valerie breaks the staring match -making Sam grin overly smugly- to point at Danny, “I wouldn’t put it past you to have a mock funeral”.

Tucker snickers and pats Danny’s arm brace, “maybe you should, see if Dash really follows through on that threat to punch your corpse in the face if you dare die”.

Danny coughs, “did he really?”, while both Jack and Maddie make slightly concerned faces. They had gut feelings Danny got bullied, was this ‘Dash’ involved in that? They want to ask but they’d rather not upset their boy. It can wait, especially since he can’t go back yet.

Tucker nods almost aggressively. Making Danny smirk and point at him, “he should be glad ‘bout this, seeing as I’ve got more of an excuse for letting him push me around now, considering I can’t stand up for myself”. Nearly everyone glares at him. For multiple different reasons.

Lewis finds it a bit ridiculous that this freakishly powerful kid lets himself get bullied. But if he had to guess, it was to protect the kids who weren’t used to getting injured. Deciding to speak up and bring the conversation away from bullying, “oh it was no mock funeral, everyone, apparently, thought he really was dead. At one of the funerals even he thought he was dead for a while”, Lewis shrugs while everyone stares at him a bit incredulously, “I’m told he was incredibly drunk and had been so for a few days”.

Jack mutters about how that sounds like a few college classmates, while Tucker blurts out, “a few days? As in, entire days and nights?”. Valerie just shakes her head.

Jazz puts her hands on her hips, “this friend is in therapy right? They better be”. Just like Danny honestly should be. She knew her stuff, but she wasn’t a professional. And no one who does anything close to anything that could qualify as ‘superhero work’ shouldn’t have a trained therapist. Or anyone who drinks that much, for that matter.

Lewis mutters, “I’m not sure that would be good for the therapists' health. Besides, what would he even tell them?”, before shaking his head slightly and looking to Jazz, “the last time someone recommended he go to a therapist he attempted to eat the business card, choked on it, and wound up with blood running down his chin from a paper cut. While his other screamed about how his brain was ‘in perfect working order and no other flesh bag is touching it!’. The conversation ended with my friend passing out and nearly drowning in a cup of takeout stir fry”. Lewis taps his chin while Danny curls up as much as he can with the braces on and wheezes. Lewis picking back up, “the last time my wife recommended it, he wound up crying on the floor surrounded by empty ice cream containers, I think. Less eventful, but definitely more depressing”.

Valerie gapes a little, “sweet Zone, your friend has some serious problems”. She hadn’t been that bad even on her worst days after her family lost everything due to those damn ghosts.

Jazz squints at Lewis, “get him in therapy”, before heading up to her room to study.

Maddie watches her go for a beat before looking to Lewis, “I agree with her honestly. Jazz can be a little overzealous about people attending therapy, but your friend sounds like they really need that”.

Lewis shrugs, “I’m pretty much his therapist at this point”. He’d like to say that Eddie talking to someone who’s actually normal -Lewis knows damn well he does not qualify as normal- would do him some good. But he really can’t afford to, patient-doctor confidentiality only goes so far; and very firmly ends when someone’s life is at risk. And putting other people’s lives at serious and immediate risk, was quite literally Eddie’s number one past time and Vee’s preferred more or less needed lifeblood.

Danny snorts at that, that must be a nightmare but also insanely curious how that kind of conversation would go. There was an alien involved after all! What even qualifies as ‘mentally healthy’ for a Symbiote? Is that even something they care about? Can they even have mental issues? Danny points at Lewis, “I’d say ‘you poor unfortunate soul’ but I’d love to pick their brain”. Lewis only gets the chance to smirk as there’s another knock on the door.

Tucker hopping up and quirking an eyebrow, speaking as he swallows his food, “what? did we forget something?”. Only to open the door to a disheveled looking man in a wrinkled suit and a tie that barely qualifies as tied; he looks like he’s slept less than Danny does on a bad week, which is saying something.

The dude sticks his head in through the open door directly above Tucker’s head and grins almost manically at Danny, “ah! The man of the hour or week or month, however long it’s been. I don’t know, I’m not paid to know. Hello!”.

Tucker steps back, having practically had the guys chest shoved into his face, “dude, boundaries, and you smell like cat piss”.

“Eh flower pot water leaked on me from some guy’s balcony”, the guy tilts his head, “at least I think and honestly hope that’s what it was. Hard to say really”, before shrugging and just walking in. Waving at Danny, “hello! again! Name’s Remfell! I’m with the Colours Wheelchairs company under De La Vega. The HXC design would be great for this town! You could wheel away from all the ghosts and attacking flower pots while doing sick flips!”, Remfell motions with his hands wildly and made jazz hands at one point, before just sitting down at the table, nearly knocking Lewis over. Lewis wisely chooses to lean against a wall, giving the table and thusly Remfell a wide berth. Tucker just elects to leave the table and sit with his pancake plate on the countertop.

Danny commenting with a smirk, “well it certainly looks like the R.E.M stage of sleep fell past you”. Of course, Danny’s being a bit of a hypocrite here, he honestly can count the number of times he’s likely entered that stage of sleep on his hands. And at least a third of those times result in him having some seriously not pleasant nightmares. Not sleeping at all was better than that.  

While Remfell goes comically wide-eyed at the food, shoving some -definitely burnt- pancakes in his mouth and waves at Maddie, “sorry, haven’t eaten in a while, you make great food though!”, looking back to Danny -who’s eyebrows are starting to get lost in his hair, who thinks burnt food tastes ‘good’???- Remfell basically starts word vomiting, “see the HXC isn’t your normal extreme wheelchair! Oh no! It’s hardcore extreme! It’s got multi-link suspension and dual coil-over shocks! And if you need to just ditch it, the seat is completely unrestricted, so you could throw it across the road to distract whatever in this town is trying to kill you because that really seems like something that happens here a lot”. Danny is gaping open-mouthed and rather gleefully at Remfell while Tucker’s curled over the sink tap wheezing. Maddie and Valerie look like they’re warring between being offended for Danny’s sake or wondering if they’re high right now.

Meanwhile, Remfell mistakes everyone’s silence as interest in his companies product and whips out a brochure and starts pointing at the different designs, “it’s also sleek and BMX-like in design. Plus, it’s light, meaning if someone has an issue with wheelchair users you could logically just hit them with it! And these handles here you can hold on to, so even if you get tossed violently through the air you won’t fall out! We also offer both rear and front crash guards. We tested them out against head-on collisions with cars! They did not break”, Remfell nods curtly like his case is rock solid and he’s sure he just got a customer.

Danny wheezes into the tabletop, only avoiding face-planting into his plate, with little bits of remaining pancakes, due to Valerie moving it out of the way. Danny lifts up his head, places his chin in his right hands palm and grins, “dude, how much coffee have you had?”.

Remfell shrugs and keeps on smiling, “I lost count”. While Lewis smirks, pushes off the wall, and leans over Danny’s shoulder, “you know, Danny, legally you are allowed credit towards a wheelchair. Courtesy of the hospital, or the government if you want to get technical”, Lewis has a feeling that Danny’s exactly the kind of person who absolutely will buy something purely because the person selling it seems slightly unhinged.

Sam looks at Danny’s slightly goofy grin and sighs before looking to Tucker, who’s wiping tears from his eyes. Sam shaking her head at him, “you utter fool, but also we need to get going”.

Tucker shakes his head with a laugh, “no way! I never get free lunch entertainment!”. Valerie rolls her eyes, hard, at him, “that’s because you usually are it”.

Remfell speaks up again, deciding to make this offer as enticing as possible. Kids still like sports these days right? “Aaron Fotheringham helped with the HXC’s design. Quite a famous wheelchair athlete! Hardcore sitting’s the sport!”.

Danny snorts while Maddie raises an eyebrow, “hardcore sitting?”. Remfell nods, motioning his hands around wildly again, “it’s like skateboarding, the intense kind you see at skateparks and at competitions”.

Danny thinks that sounded suitably dangerous, deciding to be a bit of an ass but also encourage the absurdity, “parkour suitable?”. Let it never be said that Danny wasn't a bit of a chaotic little shit. Even if his ghostly side definitely played a role in that.

Remfell nods slightly, “would certainly do better than most. And if you fell, the suspension would make the impact with the ground suck less!”. Listen, okay, Remfell has already seen kids running across rooftops and playing pass with something that honestly looked explosive. So he’s not about to claim he knows what qualifies as ‘safe extracurricular activities’ in this fever dream of a town.

Tucker snorts and mutters at Danny, “so you’d probably still die, just be a little less dead. Or have a better-looking corpse”.

Danny smirks at him, “‘less dead’, perish the thought”, tapping his chin, “though I can appreciate keeping up the visual integrity of my body”.

Remfell seems to think now is a good time to add in his two cents, "well with only half of it, you have to be twice as invested!", smacking the brochure, "and this is a fantastic investment, if I do say so myself".

Danny goes wide-eyed, did this guy just pun at him?, while both his parents cringe. Danny’s pointing at Remfell but looking to his parents, "I don’t need it but I’m sold on this dude”. Lewis chuckles, was this an approved wheelchair or company? Hell no. But his superiors don’t question him and Remfell had made a fair argument considering Amity seems just the far side of dangerous.

Remfell just grins, looking more than a little out of it, while Danny and his folks go about filling out the forms. Jack and Maddie more than willing to make up whatever the hospital/the government won’t cover to please their son; plus they weren’t exactly short on cash. Remfell will absolutely be staring at the paperwork later just to prove to himself that the town, that’s buildings changed colour, wasn’t actually some wild hallucination.

Valerie just shakes her head as she gives Danny a quick peck on the head and heads out to door to school with Sam and Tucker. Both of them immediately bugging her about skipping half a day of school.

“I wasn’t going to just not be here when he woke up”.

“You mean he actually slept, like, for a long time?”.

“What’d you guys get up to, eh eh, come on give a guy details!”.

Danny smirks over what sounds like two rather loud slaps.

Half an hour later finds Danny sitting in his little hover cushion and hovering in front of the couch, snickering at the passed out Remfell, while Lewis comes up the stairs from the lab and asks, “question, how thick were your thighs? More defined muscle or the squint and you’ll glimpse it kind?”.

Danny snorts, “why would I know that? You’re the one who had them last, and I don’t measure my limbs. But...”, Danny flexes his arms exaggeratedly, though it looks pretty silly with the braces.

Lewis tilts his head and nods, probably looking more serious than this situation calls for. Before just straight up taking off the braces, which Danny shakes his head over; obviously amused. Lewis steps back and ignores Danny looking a little shy now. Danny wasn’t lacking muscle wise, more like a battle-hardened stray cat than a dogfight winning unethically bred Pitbull. Leaning towards more defined, but not what anyone would call ripped. Kinda like Eddie actually. Earlier he had been more drawn to the scars and how Danny looked like he’d jumped into a blender feet first while being crushed by an anaconda. But he definitely had the physique of someone who spent their days throwing fists but also clearly not really eating enough. Grunting, “you need a better diet. At least Eddie and Vee generally eat well...okay, at least they eat enough”.

Danny screws up his face at that, “considering what their diet consists of, I’ll pass”. Lewis glares at him so Danny rolls his eyes, “I know my diet sucks and is often ignored, doc. Considering Sam and Tuck’s favourite argument is all about diets. Half the reason I eat at all, is them just always having food”.

Lewis shakes his head but puts back on Danny’s braces. Danny electing to hover down the lab with the doctor, though throwing a smirk at the unconscious salesman over his shoulder.

Maddie and Jack look to each other a bit awkwardly while Danny looks around the lab and chuckles. There was bits of metal, legs, wiring, and explosion burn marks everywhere. “You guys have been busy huh?”.

Jack nods and smiles, if Danny wasn’t going to make this weird then Jack wasn’t going to either, “well the CyberSteps certainly have been top priority Danny-boy!”. While Lewis walks over and descends into talking medical jargon and musculature structure at Jack.

Maddie walks up to Danny and puts a hand on his arm, “the salesman still on the couch?”. Danny nods with a chuckle, so Maddie shakes her head. She’s both surprised and not, that Danny seems unbothered by the...leg...parts strewn everywhere. He’s a strong kid, even if at the very next second he could be skittish, withdrawn, and shy. It really didn’t make a lot of sense. Watching his tail flick out of the hover cushion and him not paying It any mind. Again, he’s just so okay with something explicitly ghostly being attached to him. When she knows for a fact he would feel deeply uncomfortable if he had a Spector Deflector around his waist instead; and that wouldn’t affect his ability to...walk. Sure his tail was part of his body, helped his mobility technically, but things like their Spector Deflectors did nothing but protect. So why? Though she does get why he’s not scared of the ghostly tail, when he is rather scared of ghosts in general. She’s also glad he’s not. Being scared of your own body can’t be healthy.

Danny raises an eyebrow at her so she smiles at him and nods her head to the two adult males, deciding to voice the thought that won’t probably bother Danny, “you seem to get along well with Dan”.

Danny makes a damn point not to cringe, though his tail clearly isn’t so skilled in not making his feelings noticeable, considering how It starts vibrating a bit harshly. Danny shrugs and rubs at his neck, “he’s pretty chill, handles Amity levels of weird like a champ. So I’ve had pretty good company”.

Maddie smiles and giggles a little bit, “can’t say I’m surprised. He’s always been a bit more than unusual. Sounds like he’s made a few friends that are too”. Danny snorts at that.

Lewis stands up and stretches after a bit and checks his watch, patting Jack on the back, “seems I’ve got responsibilities to tend to now”. Jack gives him goofy thumbs-up before Lewis turns around and pats Danny on his ‘good’ shoulder before he goes to head up the stairs, “I’ll be back pretty late, with my stuff of course. Try not to have anything that can even qualify as attached to you blow up”. Lewis would really like to keep this whole ‘Danny managing to NOT destroy his bandaging and/or braces’ thing on a roll.

Danny chuckles but bites his tongue on a joke about how he’ll make sure to get stabbed instead, choosing to just awkwardly nod and rub at his neck. Earning a slight raised eyebrow from Lewis as he heads up and leaves the lab.

Lewis fills up a cup of coffee, quickly nuking it while staring at the passed out Remfell. Tilting his head slightly as the guys tie seemingly just gives up and finally falls off. Part of Lewis is incredibly curious just what happened to this guy, or if he’s just a general trash-fire of a person normally. Lewis sighs as he takes the cup out of the microwave and stares towards the living room window. Watching some kid across the street scaling a building and a car getting blown through the air and sideways across the road. Shaking his head, this crap was exactly why hospitals that dealt with Amity Parker’s were lax and weird. At least he had a better picture as to why now. Positives Lewis, positives.

Walking to stand in front of and stare down at Remfell, sipping from the -probably too hot- cup all the while. Before shrugging and just taking the guys tie off the floor. Something tells him Remfell won’t even notice the missing tie and this will give him an interesting story to tell Anne. Plus, purple went well with his blue dress-shirt. Might distract from the burns on it too. He definitely understands more so why Jack and Maddie stick to the, much much harder to damage, jumpsuits.

Expertly tying the tie as he gets in his car, pointedly ignoring a car full of twenty-somethings drifting sideways across the road while laughing. Shaking his head and muttering, “this town”, as he drives off. Amity was definitely the most interesting driving experience he’s ever had. And it seems like most the people here have a seriously damaged, or just straight up non-existent, sense of self-preservation.

Danny jerkily hovers back a bit when Jack rushes over holding up a pair of CyberSteps and nearly shoves them at him. Maddie just smiles sweetly while getting Jack to set them to stand on the ground carefully. It was probably a good thing Danny was so okay, considering Jack’s excitability.

Maddie holds the hover cushion under her arm while Danny only kind of smoothly uses his tail to float himself into the CyberSteps for the second time. Though it’s clear he’s being a bit more cautious about it this time. Danny mumbling seemingly to himself, “well it’s definitely a little less snug than last time”. Making Maddie a bit curious how this felt on the tail. While Danny goes about activating the neuroreceptors and everyone waits with baited breaths.

Everyone, even Danny, jerking from his eyes practically becoming green flashlights, bathing the lab in a rather eerie green glow.

Danny doesn’t even take the time to deactivate the neuroreceptors before yanking himself out of the CyberSteps, feeling his ectoplasm practically thrashing around in his veins. Completely tearing the neuroreceptor strip off the CyberSteps in the process, while Maddie waves away Danny’s extremely excessive shedding off ectoplasm. It was so thick, it might as well actually be smoke this time. Then having to catch Danny under the armpits as his tail thrashes around rather violently, making his floating more than a little erratic; which results in him nearly crashing into her. Looking him over, he’s also twitching. Very noticeably too. It was almost like hundreds of ants were skittering around under his skin. Floating was definitely not something he should be doing with his tail and body acting up like this.

Danny grunting and stammering, “s-sorry bout t-the s-shedding”. While Jack makes quick time of manoeuvring around Danny and Maddie to get the neuroreceptor strip off; simply tossing it to the side rather than inspecting it. Checking on Danny was far more important. He’ll think on Danny’s unusual show of strength later (he literally tore metal apart like it was nothing! Maybe Danny-boy was expressing some of his Fenton genes after all!).

Maddie ruffles his hair as she slides him into the hover cushion that she had dropped onto the last stair-step, “no worries sweetie. It’s not your fault”.

Jack rubbing his own neck and glancing at the -now damaged- CyberSteps, “guess that was more of a step backwards than forwards”.

Danny gives a very jerky nod and is clearly failing at getting himself comfortable. As he keeps using his arms to lift himself up and move around. And this time his tail looks longer, though it’s kind of hard to tell with how It’s zig-zagging and coiling all over Itself.

Jack basically pushing aside the CyberSteps as he shares a Look with his wife, while Danny’s looking down at his tail seeming more annoyed or bothered by It than he has in the whole time he’s had It. Watching him grab at his tail just below his waist and actually hiss at It. Both deciding it’s probably best to not have clearly acting up ectoplasmic energy in the lab, around lots of things that it could react to or possibly be hurt by; and that Danny should absolutely rest off whatever’s going on.

Jack electing to just scoop Danny up, though pointedly being very careful and gentle about it. Danny still yelps though, while Maddie picks up the hover cushion and they all head up the stairs.

Jack has to focus more on making sure he doesn’t drop his son than he’s really okay with, since Danny keeps squirming and seemingly trying to lift himself out of Jack’s grasp; his tail thrashing around doesn’t help either. Danny clearly feels bad about that, “s-sorry, don’t th-think I really c-can sit still. Feel kinda like I'm gonna v-vibrate out of my sk-sk-skin”.

Maddie pats his head and hides her worry, it was awful that the only way to test the CyberSteps was for him to actually test them himself. “You look like you’re trying to sweetie. You’ll probably just have to tolerate the tail moving around to expend the excess energy”.

Danny thinks that’s rather obvious, as his dad lays him to sit down in bed, his mom putting the hover cushion in the corner. Danny’s just thanking all the Ancients that his Core isn’t overproducing this time, as they sit on the bed with him. It’s a darn good thing all the furniture in the house is built or modified to tolerate his dad’s weight; even if the bed still noticeably creaks. While Danny’s trying his damnedest to not be too twitchy; tail’s kind of a lost cause in that regard though. He’s almost tempted to feel offended when It nearly smacks him in the face. He does give it a bit of a mutinous look though, before looking down at the rest of himself, well at least he didn’t ruin Lewis’s work again...yet anyways. He’s also tempted to and verging on feeling rather embarrassed over his mom rubbing his back. He knows it’s supposed to be comforting, but it feels oddly degrading. Which the more ghostly side of him, mainly his pride, is not taking too kindly to. Making it even harder to keep his fangs from popping out, which would not be good for his folks to see. Plus, it’s making his face hurt something fierce.

Maddie and Jack aren’t really sure what to do with this. The only thing they’re really familiar with doing regarding anything ghostly -but especially the acting up kind of ghostly- was attack first and ask questions of the ectoplasmic goop. Though they’re both sure Danny’d rather them studiously ignore how he’s squirming and moving around so much; his discomfort was more than a little obvious. But they also don’t want to leave him alone. Who knows how else his body or ectoplasm might act up. Maddie glances around quickly, making a point to mentally jot down to remind Danny to clean up his room. Jack speaking up to fill the growing awkward silence, “sooooo, Jazzypants mentioned you’ve messed with those stupid G.I.W. agents before”, nudging Danny very gently, which is a bit of a feat for the large man. Speaking with palpable mirth, “how’d you mess with ‘em?”.

Danny jerks dramatically and excessively, seriously wishing a certain someone had the basic decency to tell him what they told their parents. While Maddie nods and smiles down at Danny slightly, “yeah, that’s really the only reason your father didn’t run them off a bridge or worse”.

Jack glares at the air, “oh it would have been worse than just worse”. He may have once liked those men, anyone fighting the ectoplasmic evils of the world was amazing in his book! but nobody gets to mess with his family.

Danny chuckles, firmly hoping they ignore the scratchy sounding echo. If he didn’t watch it, he’d start slipping into GhostSpeak, “long st-st-story”.

“We’ve got the time”. That was a lie and both of them knew that, but watching Danny for health problems was more important than the CyberSteps right now.

Danny looks between his parents, there really was no way to explain how he undid the G.I.W. finding out he was a halfa and chasing him all over America in the OPS centre turned jet, while repeatedly nearly murdering him and his friends. Though he does kinda wanna brag about the whole PILOTING A FREAKING SPACESHIP thing. Oh yeah, can’t forget the psychotic goth clown who took over reality, abducted all his family and friends for his murder rollercoaster, turned him into freaking jello, and was taken down via one very mocking therapy session. Well okay, it was more like taking advantage of the guys messed up mental state, but whatever. And then there’s the little fact that he, Danny fucking Phantom, had control over reality and just...used it to dick with the G.I.W.. And fix clown planet of course. See that, all of that, not a lick of that shit he can tell them. Because it’s all one big absurdist bullshit nightmare fuel of a carnival show. And that’s without even explaining why the G.I.W. wanted him dead with a side of lots of very very painful experiments. Or why Freakdeaky had a hate boner for him. Ancients, it’s not just a long story. It’s three months, an entire summer, of a story. Also technically never happened, so there’s that too. Right right, if he really wants to get technical, he literally convince crazy bag of batshit to turn himself into a ghost, you know, kill himself. And then Danny just, made him human again. Just straight up reversed death. Unkilled someone. That’s kinda funny actually.

Danny screws up his face and his tail thrashes around slightly more excessively, well he’s got to say something. Wait a second here, right, he has fucked with those white suit twats more than once. But somehow he doubts accidentally making them attack some random teen, blowing up a bomb in their faces, or mauling them with a tiger; will make his folks happy. Though maybe this is a chance to take an ever so slight risk in being honest for a change. Well...giving the truth after running it through a strainer to avoid that flat-out absurd or revealing stuff. Sighing and rubbing his neck rather jerkily, but making sure to make it seem a bit embarrassed, “well wh-what did Jazz t-tell you?”, explaining furthering so it doesn’t seem so suspicious, “s-so I know what I d-don’t need to co-cover”.

Maddie nods, assuming Danny wants to know because his mouth is clearly not cooperating very well right now, “she didn’t really give us much detail, just that you lead them on a wild goose chase and convinced them that there was nothing ghostly about you”.

Jack beams and throws one arm up, “which is impressive!”. Sure it wasn’t as impressive as managing to fool or trick a Fenton -since clearly Fenton’s were more keen than the G.I.W., considering how a full group of those men couldn't figure out the wonderful Fenton lab- but still!

Danny nods sharply once, so she was talking about the FreakShow incident. Now it might be the extreme excess of ectoplasm in him or how jittery that’s making him, but he just decides fuck it and gives the least damning summery he can think of, “w-weird clown freak who has a deep se-seeded hatred for me basically ou-ousted me being a bit extra ecto t-to them”, Danny jerks his arms around a bit, “so logically, ri-right, they go full psycho mode an-and chasing me all over the place. Sc-Sc-Screamin’ ‘bout dissection this an-and experimentation that. But I k-kept hiding where they couldn’t f-find me and making them acci-accidentally capture regular a-ass humans”, chuckling with a harsh echo before continuing, “p-pretty sure I broke a ton of their shit too. Eventually...relieved...crazy clown dude of th-this tech thingy and wi-wiped myself from G.I.W. files and u-used the tech thingy to wipe their m-minds”, Danny can’t help snickering a little meanly here, because fuck those white suit pricks, “hardwired the lot of ‘em s-so they will ne-never think I’m all ecto again. Well, un-unless they get some s-serious hard evidence. Probably. Maybe”, shrugging exaggeratedly, “so-so yeah, that’s the time I functionally brainwashed an en-entire government s-sector and put a massive dent in their f-finances”.

Maddie tries not to feel a little unnerved at her boy clearly deriving some pleasure from tormenting, and his behaviour is more than a little twitchy still. Plus the echo to his voice didn’t make it less creepy. Something tells her it’s messing with his head a little too, so maybe dragging stories out of him isn’t the greatest idea right now; but she’s still curious. Maddie pats his head a couple times before ruffling up his hair, “it’s certainly good that they won’t really be coming after you now, but what happened to this technology you used?”.

Danny shrugs likes it’s no big deal, “blew it up”, then grabbing at his tail and yanking It against his chest. Trying to calm It down even a little bit, after It’s wild thrashing nearly smashed one of his model rockets. He spent a lot of time on that, thank you very much. Grumbling rather incoherently -and probably not in english- at his tail while his dad laughs lightly and pats him on the back, “well, I say you show them son! They’re way too extreme and strict!”.

Maddie nods, absently patting Danny’s head, “even if their hearts are in the right places”. Those men coming after her boy pretty much ensured that the Fenton’s would never cooperate with them ever again. Or at least not easily or all that willingly. It was sad really. Ghost hunters were few and far between, they should stick together.

Danny can’t restrain his jerk at that but does manage to restrain a snarl, promptly shaking his head and speaking when he probably shouldn’t and gnashing his teeth a little loudly, “I do not like them. They are cruel and their heads are shoved too far down the hole of stupidity to ever see they’re wrong. About anything”, Danny snorts then, covering up his smirk with his arms and part of his tail. Mumbling, “but they're digging a grave. The burial plot to be sealed off when everyone stops thinking wrong”.

Maddie sends Jack a slightly concerned look before leaning her head down to be closer to eye level with Danny. Though it’s hard to maintain eye contact with how bright his eyes are, “what do you mean sweetie?”. She definitely can’t and won’t blame him for disliking the G.I.W., even hating them, especially right now. But this seems like more than that.

Danny flicks his gaze to her quickly before staring forward again, “‘I think, therefore I am’. Pretty sure I read that somewhere. I am, therefore I bleed, I bleed, therefore I have blood to give. I have blood to give, therefore I can know pain. I exist, I am real. And so I feel, I care, I hurt. And ghosts exist, so they’re the same”, Danny nods curtly more so to himself.

Jack’s more than a little confused, of course Danny-boy exists! Maddie seems to get it better than he does though. “Just because something exists doesn’t mean It feels. Rocks exist?”. Normally she’d brush this off as teenage idealism, but she doesn’t want to shoot down Danny’s slightly rose tinted outlook when he’s still recovering. He deserves any and all positivity he can get right now, even if it’s a little misplaced. Plus, he’s stuck being part way ghostly, it’s...it’s probably for the best. Plus he was a bit impaired, and impaired people tended to be a bit more honest.

Danny shakes his head, it wasn’t the same, “rocks are in existence. Are here. But don’t really exist as something of their own self”, Danny snaps a finger, speaking bit more animatedly, “criteria of life!”, Danny snorts and laughs a little, “irony! Dead meet the criteria of life. A rock does not”.

Both parents blink at him, Jack scratching his head, “no?”. While Maddie says a bit incredulously, but not unkindly, “death and life are opposites. Though ghosts do meet some of the criteria”. Maddie can’t help thinking back to her early years in the ectobiology field, debating what qualifies as ‘life’ was a pretty heavy focus back then. The fact that Danny’s clearly thought about this himself makes her feel a little warm and fuzzy inside.

Danny shakes his head almost aggressively, “dead’s really just another state of living. Unlife is still life. Word’s even there. And they do, they met them”.

Maddie leans back and taps her chin, “I’ll give you that they respond to environmental changes, have ectoplasmic cells, and regulate their homeostasis. But other than that?”, shaking her head, “what else is there that they fit?”. Maddie’s genuinely curious what he’ll say. Even Jack looks to being paying rapt attention, though clearly clamping down on his excitableness regarding ghosts to avoid being overbearing. Jack chuckles, “it’s not like it’s possible for them to have kids and they never do change”. Jack hums and looks to his wife, “Lewis does have a point on complexity though. So I guess the ghosties, with their ectoplasm, meet that one too”. Maddie blinks and nods, maybe they should actually revisit this.

Danny shivers and make a disgusted face, promptly cutting of his parents trains of thought by muttering, “The Box Ghost having a kid is still so ew”.

Both parents gape at him for a beat before both blurt out, “WHAT????”. Both seriously wondering how that’s possible -it really really shouldn’t be- and how Danny even knows that???

Danny snorts, “I know right? Not sure if it’s better or worse that he hooked up with that LunchLady ghost”, Danny chuckles but stares at his tail, “ghosts are horrible gossips. Amazing what you can learn when you just listen”. Danny starts squirming a bit more than he already had been, and his ears attempt at swivelling downward (Danny would be thanking all the Ancients they currently can’t, if he had noticed anyway), feeling a little uncomfortable when they just keep staring at him. So, like a dumbass, he just keeps on talking, “everything changes. Some are just slow about it. Did Mr. Longwinded always have a cape and a mullet? Did Boxy always control bubble wrap? Did Phantom always have pointy ears?”, Danny shrugs and pats at his tail, It stilling for not even a second before thrashing around again, “this is ghost. Nothing but change. You just see the changes you want to see because you don’t want to not see them with me”. Danny tilts his head, chuckling to himself a little. He sounded kinda like ClockWork. Which, of course, means he is definitely being a bit too genuinely himself. Ghosts weren’t things of change but they did change, in their own way. Growing in power, expanding Obsession coverage, modifying their bodies, maturing Cores. So much change for a species that had little use for money.

Both parents blink at him, Maddie’s opening and closing her mouth a few times. On one hand she wants to disagree, to argue and point out how that’s wrong and how Danny’s human body, human mind, make it so much different. But he was a little out of it and Lewis’s words are ringing in her ears a little. Maybe, maybe, she can concede ghosts seem to change. But reproduction? She’s still firmly stuck wondering how in any definition of any word is that possible? New ghosts existed because their living counterpart had unfortunately died and they had the misfortune to be cursed with becoming ectoplasmic. With their post-human consciousness taking on a new unfortunate existence, instead of resting. Sure there might possibly be ‘needed’ or ‘created’ ghosts. Maybe. That was research for another day. But surely- Her thought process getting cut off by a loud explosion sounding from the lab.

Jack instantly springing up but spinning around to look at Maddie, “certainly if something more or bad was going to happen with Danny-boy, it would have by now?”. Is Jack grabbing at a distraction from the multitude of questions his boy’s bringing to the front of his mind? Yes, yes he is.

Maddie sighs and nods but cups Danny’s face to make him look at her, his eyes were glowing drastically less, it was still more than enough to bathe both their faces in green light though. Trying to ignore the weirdness of -and resisting the ingrained anti-ghost instinct to jerk away, which she is definitely going have to work on- Danny’s tails wrapping around her wrist slightly. “You’ll let us know if anything happens or changes with you, right?”.

Danny chuckles and rubs his neck jerkily, “uh, yeah?”, looking to Jack and giving a bit of a lopsided smirk, “here’s hoping there's a limit to how many times ‘break a leg’ can become literal”.

Jack chuckles and gives his son a goofy thumbs up. While Maddie shakes her head and gets up, quickly pecking a kiss on Danny’s head before heading down to the lab with Jack. Him being a bit out of it made the rather dark humourless weird and dark.

Lewis balls up his bloodied gloves with a level of satisfaction. He’s not really surprised no one's saying that they’ll ‘miss him’ or to ‘not work too hard’ or to ‘enjoy the impromptu sorta vacation’. If anything, they probably viewed this as a vacation from him. Expected really.

Stretching and bending his fingers around a bit, digging around people’s insides could be a real workout on the fingers. Only for his phone to go off, quirking an eyebrow over seeing Anne’s name pop up. “Anne? There’s not an emergency is there?”.

“Just how injured is that patient of yours? I know you said he wasn’t, but I somehow doubt that. Because he is definitely more injured now. I’m certain tearing out three light posts with his back isn’t healthy”.  

Lewis sighs, somehow he’s really not surprised, but Danny not abusing his body was fun while it lasted. “Outside of him intentionally not letting his legs regrow, he is, was, in perfect health”, chuckling a little because if a not kinda dead person had the level of bodily function Danny did, they would be critically unhealthy and rapidly approaching death in a fun and interesting multitude of ways, “for him anyway”. Sighing again, “does he look hurt?”.

Anne laughs ever so faintly, “hard to say. The severe blur that glow of his causes on tv makes it more than a bit difficult to tell. He’s picked some fight, in broad daylight I’ll add, with what looks to be a dragon”. Lewis waits, hearing the faint tapping sounds signifying she’s either sending a text or looking something up. Anne picking back up after a couple seconds, “I can’t say I’m surprised the world at large seems to think Amity is something of a conspiracy theory. Anyway, I sent you the link to the news feed. It’s live”.

Lewis smiles, so thoughtful. Anne always had a plan, always knew what to do and what she wanted; and what others wanted. It was her job after all. Just like his was dealing with the injured and/or dying. Usually it was the latter. Excluding slower days of course. Electing to keep Anne on the line -she won’t mind, she never minds- as he opens up the link. Instantly shaking his head as not even two seconds into him tuning in, Phantom gets impaled by a chunk of rubble and set on fire by the dragon. Absently, Lewis wonders if this is the very same dragon that Sam was nearly forced to wed, logically said dragon might be a little miffed if Danny broke up that particular arrangement. And something tells him, watching Phantom just full-frontal take another jet of flames without so much as making a shield or something, Danny forgets his own powers even more often than he’s implied he does.

Sighing again, “well, at least he has the decency to inform people when he gets hurt, while he’s getting hurt”, Lewis shrugs, “even if it’s just a pleasant side-effect of being a public figure”. Plus, Lewis can’t see the bandaging or braces on Phantom, so however he magiced away foreign matter -seriously how does that work?- maybe that will protect, and thusly not ruin, Lewis’s work. Positives.

Anne cuts to the heart of the matter, “unlike some people we know. Eddie can be a bit avoidant about that, can’t he?”.

Lewis shakes his head, the sheer amount of times those two have sprung, a.k.a confessed, getting severely and horrifically injured after the fact and -usually while drunk- at random was enough to very effectively give him a headache, “part of me wishes he’d call us, at least one of us, every time. But I also know that most, if not all, of it is tied to some highly illegal extracurricular activities”. Lewis says all this while heading back to prepare for the next surgery. Phone held lazily in his hand while he goes between his conversation with Anne and watching Phantom getting tossed around like he’s a new plushie being man handled by a six-year-old. Half formulating what, if any, treatments he’s going to need. And half glad that he at least has a chance to do that, instead of just, oh he doesn’t know, a certain pair of someone’s just dropping the injury out of the blue.  

Lewis can hear the slight humour in her voice, “and who are we kidding, we both know it’s usually Vee doing the calling”.

Lewis can’t help smirking slightly at that as he pushes open the doors. “After they get fed up enough with Eddie’s avoidance issues. That, or he’s too bad to not acknowledge he needs help”, chuckling, “Eddie just hates inconveniencing people doesn’t he?”. Lewis pauses and blinks, well damn, Danny clearly had that sort of issue too. So there’s definitely no way he tells his friends about all his injuries then. Maybe only the ones seen so publicly? Or maybe Danny was the exact reverse of Eddie and Vee. Hiding the really bad ones. The really serious stuff. Because, if he applies Danny’s logic, they would be upset and thus ‘hurt’ by him being seriously injured. Lewis hums a little, maybe Eddie wasn’t quite so bad in that regard then.

Anne sighs with a level of fondness he only learned to pick up after months of hearing it, “he’s just such a good guy, right?”.

Lewis smiles softly and nods to himself, “the best. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to meat grinding”.

Anne laughs almost loosely though still controlled, “still on that, are we? You have a nice afternoon honey”.

That only makes Lewis smile wider, “maybe I’ll work it into my permanent vocabulary. Though that may freak the staff out more than the hospital could tolerate. Bye Anne dear”.

Lewis pauses before actually putting his phone in the tray and meeting said underlings. Danny is supposed to be resting and healing. Of course he can’t chew the kid out, but he’s certain two certain teens wouldn’t object to doing it. Looking back into his texts to find Anne had also sent Tucker’s number? connection line? For his PDA as well. So thoughtful.

He’s not surprised the teen picks up near-instantly, the phone not even getting halfway through the connection sound; which was decidedly not a ringing sound. Sounding clipped and even a bit stern, “Who and why?”.

Alright, Lewis thinks, some unknown number calling a PDA was rather suspicious, especially considering Danny’s situation and recent near abduction by government agents. “It’s Lewis. I’ll make this short, as I’ve got work to do still. Tell Danny to go home and stop abusing his body till he’s at least no longer officially my patient. Dragon notwithstanding”.

Tucker snorts and actually laughs, “oh good luck with that one. I’ll tell him, or just send Sam to throw a shoe at him”.

Lewis sighs but hangs up anyway. Promptly depositing the phone and washing up. He had a job to do, and that job didn’t currently involve reckless half ghosts with no appreciation for preserving quality medical work. He’s honestly still ever so slightly miffed about Danny ruining all his nice symmetrical metalwork; and if gives his current patient -he’s more than a bit interested to know just what this guy did to crush his pelvis at this particular angle- metal ghosts out of a slight level of spite, well, no one needs to know.

Maddie and Jack both pause halfway down the steps to the living room and kitchen, watching as Remfell wakes up and promptly bodily throws himself onto the floor. Before springing up like someone who definitely has had way too much coffee and firmly did not mean to fall asleep.

Remfell turns his head to them and smiles, instantly waving off any possible worry he thinks they might be feeling, “alright. I’m cool. It’s cool. I’m good”, he points around to his stuff and the signed paperwork, “I’m just going to get out of your hair now. I’m sure you’re busy people!”. As if on cue another explosion sounds from the lab, making Remfell jump nearly a foot off the ground.

The fact that the salesman manages to actually get out of the house before Jack starts talking ghost at him, honestly makes Maddie feel a little concerned. Obviously Jack’s mind was a little bit elsewhere as well.

It takes a bit before they actually finish walking down the stairs and head into the lab. Neither all that surprised that the CyberSteps connection zone, ports, and neuroreceptor strip are smoking. Jack instantly rushing over and salvaging what he can. Maddie’s glad for Jack’s occasional single-mindedness right now, able to go about repairing what in all on the CyberSteps already functioned the way they wanted them too, before moving to fiddle with the neuroreceptors, timer functions, and connections, again.

Maddie electing to work on diagrams and formulating new ideas, rather then deal with tech while not entirely focused on it. The last thing she wanted was her or Jack getting hurt because she’s not totally focused. Plus, then Danny would be worried about them. He fretted so much about other people’s well being, even horribly injured and in what must have been worlds of pain. Even days later she’s still a little shocked and thrown that Danny was just so concerned for everyone else even though he was one of the worst off. Like Dan had said, it was nothing short of a miracle Danny survived at all. They’re all lucky, so very very lucky. And here she was pestering him on his apparent tolerance of ghosts and tolerance of his ghostly body parts. Zone, what kind of mother is she? Shouldn’t she just be glad? Proud even? That he’s still got something. That he can use It to walk, float she corrects, around. And that It doesn’t bother him.

Maddie pauses and turns to fiddle with a little vial of ectoplasm, Danny’s ectoplasm, from the tail, that they had scraped out of the CyberSteps. They really shouldn’t have done that. Not without asking him. She’s sure he would have been okay with it, but it was the consideration behind asking that mattered. But she was just so curious and she had rationalised that it wasn’t really attached to him anymore so it was fine. Well it was not fine. It was still part of him. But she had gone into scientific hunter mode, became Dr. Maddie Fenton about it. But neither had really done anything with it, so that was something. Well, outside of making absolutely sure the CyberSteps and every model or incarnation of them did not react negatively to Danny’s ectoplasm sample. But that was a good and reasonable thing to do.

Maddie blinks and pauses in her fiddling, her mind halting its slightly self reprimanding thought pattern. Wait a second, they knew the neuroreceptor strip was fine, perfected even. And the connection ports and hooks were too, thanks to Danny’s tail that issue had been easy to resolve. Okay, yes she absolutely should be happy and thankful over the tail. Implications of It be damned. Shaking her head, anyway back to the point.

It was the timer and conductor that were the problems, the control mechanisms for just how much ectoplasm was used, accessed, stored, and run; and at what rate. And they had tested Danny’s ectoplasm with that. It hadn’t become supercharged at all. It had drained the sample at exactly the rate it was supposed to. It had worked exactly as it was supposed to. Which meant they must be approaching this wrong.

Deciding now might be best to seek out her better half for his input, “Jack dear, how exactly do you think Danny’s body maintains Its ectoplasmic levels?”, the tail was the key. Outside of the reactions with the CyberSteps, It hadn’t ever changed length or how much It shed. Meaning Danny’s ecto-levels were somehow fluctuating around a set point, a really high set point if his tail was anything to go by. Which is simply not possible. Even with a possibly somewhat active/awakened ghost of himself, that could only account for him being able to handle such a high ecto-level. And sure, everyone with ecto-contamination had an average level they usually hovered around, but that was because they usually ran into the same levels of free-floating ectoplasm every day. Because it was part of their routine. But Danny’s routine was completely flipped on it’s head right now.

Jack taps his chin, “well, I used to think he was just really sensitive or naturally ecto-absorbent. But his ecto-levels would have dropped at the hospital if that were the case”, Maddie simply nods, she had figured much the same, as he continues, “now I’d say he must be producing it somehow. The, I mean his, tail clearly expunges ectoplasm, but I’m starting to get the feeling all of him can and has been doing just that for a while now”. Jack nods firmly, looking pretty sure of himself while he gets back to twisting the wrench.

Maddie blinks, how could he possibly be making it? But for him to be maintaining and having a set point, regardless of his lifestyle or habit, he would have to be. Which means it must be possible. But how? A partly active ghost wasn’t enough to make ectoplasm. Unless...Maddie swallows a bit harshly and asks more or less rhetorically, “Jack...how do ghosts produce ectoplasm? Maintain their set point ecto-levels?”. She’s a little bit desperate to know if he’ll come to the same conclusion she just did. Partly scared he will, and partly hopeful he’ll have some other idea she’d never think of.

Jack pauses and drops the wrench, eyes going a little wide, which only serves to make Maddie’s stomach drop as he looks to her, “Cores. Their Cores. Mads, you don’t think...”. She knows that’s not a question but she nods a bit weakly anyway.

Jack completely abandons working on the CyberSteps at this and the pair grab a few of their theories books. Everything about Cores were tentative theories at best. Oh they knew they were real, but their understanding of them was very much minimal. They had glimpsed the small little balls of hyper-condensed unique ectoplasm inside many of the tiny ghosts they had managed to capture and keep around long enough to dissect. Which yes, their kids had been more than a little upset about when they had found out. Jack’s pretty sure the only reason they’re not still upset is because of them agreeing to make and use something of a ghost knock-out anaesthesia. Dan had been tickled green when Jack had explained that little invention to him, even asked to read their notes on it! Though he’s not sure why Dan had smirked when Jack mentioned it had accidentally knocked Danny out once.

Jack shakes his head, it was no good getting distracted now. Thing is, they have only guesses and general possible ideas how Cores worked in bigger more complex ghosts. Jack blinks, oh wow, why had they ever thought ghosts were simple things? Shaking his head again as he flips through a few pages. Jack grabs some scrap paper to organise his thoughts and makes a simple list. Straight forward. Easy to work with. Plain and clear. Alright, so some things they know have been consistent every time with Cores.

What we know: Cores

Glow brighter than the ghost

Can come in colours other than green

Comprised of a unique kind of ectoplasm

Many times more dense than regular ectoplasm and varies by ghost

Always intangible

Intangibility is impervious to artificial anti-ecto things

Situated in the centre of the largest area of the ghost

Can convert, create, filter, and expel ectoplasm

Feeds off of free-floating ectoplasm

Ghosts are more protective of the area where their Core is

Can be hurt/have their Core ectoplasm diminished

Likely every ghost that can leave the GZ has one

Jack starts making another list while pushing the first to Maddie to look over and possibly add on to.

What we know: Danny

Highly ecto-contaminated

Can’t be de-contaminated

Slow heartbeat and pulse

Low body temp

Has an ectoplasmic set point

Ecto-sensors detect him

Ghostly tail

Expels ectoplasm

Jack looks to the (mostly) reattached neuroreceptors on the CyberSteps and tentatively adds

     9. really strong (Fenton genes?)

Maddie pushes back the first list having added

   13. If removed, the ghost will eventually dissolve and reform around their Core

   14. Only found inside ghosts

   15. Can’t be created in a lab setting

   16. Can hurt the ghost when overstimulated/overproducing

   17. Can increase or decrease regular and Core ectoplasm conversion, production, absorption, and expulsion to a degree

Then looking over Jack’s list on Danny. chuckling a little hollowly at the last one. Thinking on it, she modifies that one before adding to the Danny list.

   9. really strong (Fenton genes?) (ectoplasm overproduction?)    10. Unbothered by ghostly body parts or behaviours    11. Highly scared of ghosts    12. Dislikes anti-ghost devices, especially the Spector Deflector    13. Abnormal healing

Thinking back to one of the first conversations with Dan, she adds with a slightly shaky hand:

   14. Should have died

Blinking then as she looks over the Danny list again, Then completely unbidden, a memory comes sharply into focus, from right after they had extensively decontaminated him for the third time. He had looked uncomfortable, she had chalked it up to decontamination not being the most fun thing to experience. But more important than that, at least to her right now, was how he had been rubbing his chest. The largest area on a human being. As if he’d been soothing an ache, or massaging a sore muscle.

   15. Chest reacts negatively when ectoplasm levels are very high or very low

The two put the papers down and look between them. Maddie runs a hand through her hair, “if he has this, has a...Core, it would explain why we can’t decontaminate him. How he...produces it. Produces ectoplasm. How he can support and maintain the ghostly tail consistently. How he can have a somewhat awakened ghost. And why his dangerously high ecto-contamination doesn’t hurt him. Jack, this makes too much sense. This, it shouldn’t be possible”.

Jack nods absently, she’s right, of course she is, he married an incredibly smart woman after all. Smarter than him by a long shot. But she could be so limited by the known, by what’s possible. Often unable to see how something could be possible. Muttering mostly to himself, “but it could be”, before turning to her and explaining almost excitedly. He would be completely excited, ecstatic even, if his boys health and body wasn’t mixed up in this, “think about it. The constant state of intangibility would let It coexist through and around his organs! It could run a whole separate ecto-circulatory system based off of Danny’s current one and run it alongside what he’s naturally got for support! Of course ectoplasm doesn’t hurt him then! And that would explain the tail too! The natural set up of Danny’s ecto-circulatory system would be imprinted on the Core! So It just reformed it the best It could with Danny’s body for support! The Core is his ghost!”, Jack can’t help grin a little at that. He’d always been worried that Danny’s ecto-contamination would damage him or even kill him one day. But this way that can’t possibly happen! He’s not ecto-contaminated, he’s immune to it! Ecto-immunity! Neat! His Core must just eat the free-floating ectoplasm that any person in Amity Park would routinely absorb just by living here!

Maddie breaks into his thoughts and promptly sobers him up, “but Jack, what if this hurts him. Humans aren’t supposed to have Cores. And this still doesn’t explain how this is even close to possible”.

Rubbing his neck slightly, “I’m sure he’d tell us if something was hurting him. And maybe it’s because of all the ectoplasm contact? All of this has been a constant in the kids' lives after all”.

Maddie shakes her head and worries her lip a little, “but then Jazz would have one too. And she doesn’t have even a third of the things on Danny’s list”.

Jack taps his chin for a beat, “maybe if she was genetically identical to Danny then she would? Maybe he really is sensitive to ectoplasm, and that made this possible. That anyone who’s ectoplasmicly sensitive, possibly like Danny, in a high ectoplasm environment would develop a ghost Core?”.

Maddie has to admit he’s got a good point. Rubbing her forehead, she really wishes they knew how Cores formed in the first place. They were already certain that Danny’s ghost must already be somewhat active, but for It to already be integrated into him to such a level? This just can’t be a good thing. For Danny’s body to be supporting this, It would absolutely have to be affecting him back beyond just some strange vitals. It would have to be affecting his mind. Glancing back to the lists, her eyes get pulled to the ‘Unbothered by ghostly body parts or behaviours’ point. It was affecting his mind, his behaviours, his thought patterns. This was, this had made Danny think a little like a ghost. Okay with his body acting like one. And thinking back to their conversation with Danny, all the previous ones they had with him, all the times Danny’s showed dislike for their work. Danny was ghost friendly, too ghost friendly. But he was also skittish and scared of them? Rubbing her temple again while Jack’s contemplating himself and eating. Okay, maybe Danny views ghosts positively on paper but not in person? Well, in person they can hurt him; so that does make some sense. But ghosts were dangerous in person because of how they were on paper, at a fundamental level. Yet Danny doesn’t apparently see it that way. Neither does Jazz. Or Tucker. Or Sam. Or Dan. No one who’s talked with Danny does. Even Vlad doesn’t. Even if him and Danny seemingly hate each other. Maddie totally understands the hatred in Danny’s case.

Could it be that Danny, because of this effect on his brain, understands the way ghosts think? And because of very much being a human being, he’s able to put it in such a way that a regular human could understand it too? If they listened? Maddie tilts her head up to the ceiling, Danny’s previous words rattling in her head, ‘amazing what you can learn when you just listen’. Danny...Danny couldn’t have been more blunt about that if he tried. Without literally yelling ‘would you just listen to me!’. Or maybe he was just talking about how ghosts, apparently, gossip, and she’s reading too much into it.

Maddie jumps a little bit when Jack loudly claps his hands together, “Mads! That’s what wrong! The CyberSteps are reacting to the Core, not his ectoplasm! And making It over-stimulated!”, Maddie gets up and walks over a bit numbly while Jack is pulling out parts of the timer and conductor, “the systems to regulate how much ectoplasm is taken from him must be making the, his, Core overcompensate by rapidly producing ectoplasm! So either we need to find a way to communicate to his Core that ‘hey this is okay. Don’t worry’ or utilise his ectoplasm as fuel in a way that mimics something ghosts naturally do! Like shooting ecto-blasts! Except near constantly”, Jack tilts his head, “and through the tail”.

Maddie mentally shakes herself, back to work, she can think on Danny’s impossible oddness and probable Core and all those implication some other time. Picking up the neuroreceptor strip, “if we want to go the first route, it would have to be through the neuroreceptors and we have no way to know if that’s safe”. Blinking and walking back to Jack, squeezing his shoulder slightly, “Jack we have to be careful. We don’t know enough about Cores, we can not risk hurting...his. We don’t even know what that could possibly do to him”, when he looks up to her and instantly nods strongly she continues, “so I’d say we have to go with the mimicking option”.

Maddie grabs up the timer, it had to be modified to work for someone who converts, creates, filters, and circulates ectoplasm after all. Absently she remembers just how sheepish and apologetic Danny had seemed when they had tried and tried and failed to correct his contamination. How, by the very next day, he would be back up to the exact same levels. How had they missed that? The implications of that? It should have been obvious. But they missed it. Both of them did. Because...because they didn’t want to notice it. Danny was right, they were only seeing, only acknowledging, what they wanted to see.

It’s a fair bit late at night and Danny is honestly a little surprised, though also not, that his folks haven’t come to check on him. It seems like they’re getting back into the swing of things a little. Maybe anyway. And right now Danny’s counting that as a blessing; considering how he’s intangibly digging through his wall for the really tough ectoline, while holding his arm together in his mouth.

Rolling his eyes, he can’t believe -okay yes he can- Lewis called Tuck. That wasn't even a bad fight! And he didn’t ruin the guys work! Well okay, not in that fight anyway. Sighing and mumbling into the flesh on his arm, firmly ignoring the ectoplasm leaking down his cheek and chin. He really should clean his floor though, considering the splashing from the dripping ectoplasm sounds more like it’s hitting a sponge than anything else. “It sorously eems hat tha bag wons arr ummin’ owta tha worudd ow tha ‘m ack”. It’s expected really, all the ghosties missing their favourite punching bag that genuinely can pulverise them back. Plus, his little absence likely gave the more genuine asshole pricks the notion that Phantom was ‘off his game’ or ‘more seriously hurt’ and thus an ‘easier target’. But Aragon was back in the Draconic’s prison, Dora appreciated the quick visit (though there was the quick misunderstanding about his leglessness. Her panicking that it was somehow Aragon’s fault), Skulker got to reaffirm that Danny was without a doubt his absolute most favourite target and would ‘absolutely be mounted above his bed!’, and Danny got to enjoy his ectoplasm singing happily in his veins. Sure his ectoplasm was still -seriously how long was this going to last?- thrashing around unnecessary violently in his system, but he had definitely expended some of the built-up ectoplasmic energy.

Danny only just finishes stitching his arm together when his ghost sense goes off. Danny only staring at the icy mist for a second before spotting Red getting thrown rather violently into a building, her board flying into it, and an explosion sounding seconds later.

Danny promptly transforming, again, and zipping out to be greeted by the sound of monologuing.

“-IME TO FACE UTTER DEFEAT FIRST! NOW I! TECHNUS! WILL LORD OVER THE AFTERMATH! THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER! I GET TO GLOAT NOW!”.

Danny watches as Technus seems to nearly wiggle with joy as he continues rambling.

“BRAGGING IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN REVEALING MY PLANS OUTRIGHT! TASTE TECHNUS’S, THE MASTER OF ALL THINGS ELECTRONIC AND BEEPING, VICTORY DANCE ON YOUR GRAVE!”.

At this Danny can’t help but snort and comically shout, “I’d say you’re gravely mistaken! It’s you and your outdated tech that needs to be dealt the grave! But don’t worry, your graveyard dance just showed up to haunt you!”. With that Danny flings himself into the fray, hearing Red groan from annoyance and total exasperation instead of pain, tells Danny she’s probably fine.

Danny promptly kicks Technus in the face with both feet, sending the ridiculously uncool ghost flying. Technus quickly phasing back through the building only a little worse for the wear -because really, physical attacks don’t do too much. Danny just likes hitting things, okay?- and instantly forgets about not monologuing before, during, or apparently after; fights. “YOU HAVE RETURNED IN PROPER, GHOST CHILD! WHAT I AM DOING WITH THE RED ONE IS NO BUSINESS OF YOURS! FOR SHE USES MY WONDROUS TECHNOLOGY YET IS NOT BEING A PROPER PUPPET! I SLAVED AWAY WITH THE PERFECT SCHEME AND DESIGN! AND WHAT DID I GET! SHE CARES NOT FOR MY DESIGN! I SHALL TAKE AND CONTROL WHAT IS MINE!”.

Danny dodges a hurtled Computer monitor, while finger-gunning, “dude, that is surprising more villainous sounding than usual. But y’all have me floating around here, workin’ till I’m half-dead, and being a straight prick to what’s basically my coworker”, Danny shoots off a couple ecto-blasts and rays while Red grumbles about how they are not coworkers and how work generally doesn’t give the dead back half their life. Danny snickers over her complete misunderstanding while shouting, “and if you think I’m gonna let you disarmingly disrobe Red, you’re gravely mistaken!”. Pointing at Red, “I know I already use that one so hush”.

Red rolls her eyes hard enough that her head moves with the motion and Danny spots her nab up her board, slink into an alleyway, and start fiddling with wiring. Good, looks like she’s learned some tech and how her stuff operates. Might have something to do with having to figure out how to deactivate that scanner of hers, so his tail wouldn’t perpetually set it off whenever she got anywhere near him. Having his legs whacked off and developing a ghostly tail was definitely one of the odder ways to help her out, but he’s not complaining.

“YOU MAY NOT WORK ALONE, GHOST CHILD! BUT EVEN COMBINED YOUR MIGHT IS NOTHING COMPARED TO THE GREA-”.

Danny cuts him off with a snowball and one overly-dramatic yawn, “the Mighty Meaty Melt’s got more might than you even on a bad night!”. Apparently he put a little too much dramatics into his little stunt, as Technus manages to catch him utterly off guard. Hurling and burying him for a second under a mound of old keyboards and -definitely no longer compatible with modern technology- mouses.

“HA!”.

Danny grabs and dislodges a keyboard that had managed to actually slice into and embed itself in his right arm; flicking a bit of ectoplasm through the air. Well, this was certainly a new one. Mumbling at his arm, “awww, you ghostly ghastly motherfucker. Okay. Alright then”, before looking back up to the floating Technus and pointing with very obvious mock aggression, “if ya gonna abuse shit then you should at least have the decency to put cases on them! So now I’m making a case against you, with my fist!”, and zipping back into aerial battle.

Danny lets Technus wrap a computer cable around him and smirks, “don’tcha know? My personality is absolutely electrifying”, and promptly sending an ecto-electrical charge down the cord. Zapping Technus and all his tech to high Hell.

Red muttering, “since when could he do that?”. She’s also wondering why the Zone his body’s seems to be vibrating rather than holding a completely stable form. His voice also echoed more than normal.

Danny spins his head around and down at Red’s comment, “you’ll find the sheer amount I can do is rather shocking”. Which gives Technus the chance to pick himself back up and seek revenge for his fallen technological brethren.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN DO THIS WHELP! DO THIS TO ME! YOU SHALL FEAST ON MY TECHNOLOGICAL NIGHTMARES!”.

Danny just shouts, "who do you think you are?! the FrightKnight?! Nocturne?!". While Technus slams a telephone phone pole down on him, it jumping with electrical current the whole while. One of the wires snapping and managing to bisect Danny’s arm, again. Danny hurdles another snowball while shouting, “Oh come on! I just fixed that! I’m far too dead for life to be doing me dirty like this!”.

Technus pauses for a beat and sticks up a finger, “technically death, see we are ghosts. The dead”.

Danny throws his hands out to the side, ignoring both the weirdness of Technus not shouting for once and the halves of his arm flopping around, “fine! I’m far too alive for death to be doing me dirty like this! Happy?!?”. Red face-palms, though tosses a chunk of fabric at him. Huh, guess she has changed some. Danny uses it to tie his arm together without ever breaking eye contact with Technus.

Danny snickers, which is honestly slightly worrying to Technus, who knows damn well Phantom could have sucked him into that thermos of his by now. Danny jumps up high and sticks his arms out, “time to get crack-a-lackin’! ‘Cause I’m gonna light this ecto techno virus up!”. With that Danny just releases a small shockwave of ectoplasmic energy, somehow managing to right the telephone pole and sweep all the debris out of the street at the same time. Leaving Technus literally smoking and with hair a bit frizzed out. Chuckling Danny sucks him into the thermos. That’ll, maybe, teach the ghosties to think he’s weakened.

Waving down to the small crowd and people sticking their heads out doors. A couple are clearly rolling their eyes or scoffing. Switching to a slightly deep baritone, that he knows one day will be his natural tone even if it’s unpleasantly similar to Dan’s, “worry not! I’d say this situation is thoroughly resolved! Remember, be kind to clean up as they arrive! And know that while you may never believe or see yourselves in this kind of light, know that each of you can be a hero in your own right!”. Danny gives a quick salute and flies off, before anyone has a chance to yell or throw something at him. Though he does hear someone mutter about him rhyming.

Danny’s not all that surprised when Red floats up on her hoverboard to fly next to him. With her raising an eyebrow at him, though it’s kinda hard to tell through the helmet, “what’s up with you?”.

Danny spins around, gives her a matching raised eyebrow, and snickers a little, “lots of pent up energy you could say. A little overcharged”. Though she doesn’t groan audibly, he can see it in her posture.

Red snapping slightly, “what? Not enough ghostly chaos lately for you to get your rocks off, Phantom”. Of course he was just looking for a fight. Typical ghost.

Danny only gets the chance to smirk before having to dodge a blast, hearing Red mutter about how ‘damn spooks never change’. Making him genuinely chuckle before blinking out of visible range and slinking off. Was messing with the huntress, a.k.a his girlfriend who just didn’t know it, arguably stupid? Yes. So was walking into the portal; and that worked out pretty well in the end. All things considered.

Lewis heaves his overnight bags over his shoulder as he walks up the steps of the Fenton house, bag of medical supplies and equipment in his other hand; thus making him have to resort to kicking the door with his foot instead of knocking. Quirking an eyebrow at Maddie opening the door looking more than a little preoccupied and bothered. Raising both his eyebrows disbelievingly when she shyly admits to having lost track of time and not checking in on Danny for hours. And not only that, she seemingly adds on, as if it’s an afterthought, “oh, and we tested out another prototype just after you left and his ectoplasm reacted a bit badly. When you check in on him, could you ask him if that’s better?”. She says all this while very clearly distracted. No wonder Danny managed to hide his half-ghost status and sneak out to moonlight as a vigilante. If Lewis was literally any other doctor, not only would he rip them a new one for this level of negligence, but the hospital would rip into him for not ensuring the patient was being properly watched. But since he’s Dr. Dan Lewis, not a normal doctor or person arguably, the hospital will not know -heck! Danny wasn’t even supposed to be here till tomorrow- so Lewis will just give Maddie some seriously unimpressed facial expressions.

Lewis shakes his head as he walks in and sets his bags to the side, speaking in a slightly degrading tone, “well then, I best go do that first thing then”. Maddie just nods and absently says, “supper will be ready in a while”. Making Lewis hope that supper in this household is not usually around eleven at night. Not to mention making him wonder if Danny has eaten anything other than pancakes today.

Lewis doesn’t bother with knocking -because really? What weirder thing could he possibly walk into at this point?- and is both glad he did that and regretting that he did that. Seeing as the sight that greets him, is Danny with a Hagedorn needle in his mouth, glowing green thread trailing over the bed. And with his left arm bisected and three fingers just dangling and barely attached. Looking slightly more to the side to see a shattered arm brace. Danny opens his mouth, the needle falling out and embedding itself in part of his arm, “uh, what’s up doc?”.

Lewis levels him with some seriously unimpressed eyebrows, he might as well just make that his default facial expression today, “seriously?”.

Danny shrugs, “whatcha gonna do? Shoot me?”. Danny makes a face that seemingly expects the reaction to his comment to be immediately getting shot.

Lewis raises an eyebrow and shakes his head as he walks forward, “technically, I could stab you. You know us surgeons, never that far from a scalpel or two”. Lewis bends down and plucks the needle out of Danny’s arm. Alright, so clearly Danny emphatically did give himself medical treatment and did have a disturbing pain tolerance. So Lewis does the only logical thing he can, and points at the glowing green stitching, “why?”.

Danny just holds up his bisected and half-stitched up arm like that answers anything. So Lewis glares, “this is a health thing. Why is it green, and glowing?”.

Danny looks slightly shocked, like he legitimately did not realise that was what Lewis was curious about, “oh that? Think of it like ghostly stitching. It’s ectoline. Technically it’s for fishing, but I’ve repurposed it”, Danny shrugs while Lewis just keeps glaring, that did not explain why he was using it instead of medical-grade stuff. Danny picks back up with a slight eye roll, “doc, I have intangibility. Regular stitching will quite literally fall through me. This stuff-”, Danny holds up a bundle of the ectoline, “-is phase proof. Also means it can be used to tie up a ghost”.

Lewis blinks, “so what? Are you about to tell me that all the stitching I put in you, which is a lot by the way, just fell out?”. Lewis was aware that Danny, apparently and according to him, didn’t actually need hospital medical treatment. But it was seriously this useless for him?

Danny quickly shakes his head, “unless I was literally turning intangible in my sleep, no”, Danny snaps his fingers and points at Lewis, “oh but again with the whole ‘ectoplasm eats everything’ thing. Ectoline can tolerate prolonged ectoplasmic contact. Regular stitching though, that was probably destroyed in a half-hour at best”. Danny shrugs a bit sheepishly at that, before starting to align his messed up fingers.

Lewis shakes his head but promptly sits down and helps, ignoring Danny’s ‘I can do it myself’ eye roll. At least Danny recognises a lost cause and just lets Lewis do it. Though he does smack Danny’s hand away from the Hagedorn needle, to stop the kid from trying to stitch up the same arm that Lewis is trying to fix mangled fingers on.

Danny huffs while Lewis goes about stitching his arm back into one piece, this ectoline stuff is definitely thicker and vibrates slightly; impressively weights next to nothing though. Must be due to some gravity-defying ectoplasmic properties. In doing this Lewis absolutely notes how the stitching lines up very closely with some of Danny’s scars. Clearly this is not a first time occurrence. “How often does this happen?”.

Danny chuckles a bit meanly, lifting up his other arm and splitting it in half. Shrugging as the limb snaps back together, “as an injury? Once every few months. Second time today though”.

“You’re supposed to be resting and healing”. Bisected twice in one day. Twice.

Danny rolls his eyes, “if I sense a ghost, I fight the ghost”, shrugging, “unless it’s a friendly of course”. Making Lewis very glad that Eddie -or Vee- can’t just sense crime.

Lewis shakes his head, while Danny transforms back human. At least the rest of the braces are intact, though he is a little curious how the bandaging on the stitched arm is completely intact. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Danny as he feels up Danny’s arm; the stitching is very much still there and under the bandaging.

Danny just shrugs, so clearly he’s got no clue himself.

Though now that he’s not fretting over the fact that Danny was seriously -by regular human and even Symbiote standards- injured, he -now knowing for sure that Danny really, truly, does his own stitching and what not- slightly admires how cleanly and well done most of Danny’s old injuries must have been treated, based on how the scars had looked anyway. Tucker clearly doesn’t like hospitals or anything related to them, so Lewis somehow doubts Tucker has done much of Danny’s patching up. His gut tells him the vast majority was treated by Danny himself. Danny’s work is honestly better than what he’s seen from quite a few interns. And that’s with using foreign tools, large needles, doing it to himself, working on a body that has a largely unknown biology, and without any formal training. Alright, so Lewis is officially impressed. And a little depressed, if he’s honest.

Lewis taps his chin while he goes about fetching a new arm brace, “you know, you’re pretty good at doing my job”.

Danny chuckles, “uh, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, or you giving me shit”.

Lewis tilts his head as if to contemplate, “it can be both”, before sitting back down on the bed and getting to work securing the brace. Making damn sure it won’t be too tight or the wrong size of course. “Mostly the first though. Ever considered a career in medicine?”.

Danny groans dramatically, and if it wasn’t for Lewis’s firm grip he would have flopped backwards onto the bed, “this again? Doc, I don’t think you -or any other doctor/surgeon for that matter- would appreciate me just waltzing out of the surgery room and fucking off in the middle of a surgery to throw down against the dead”, Danny shrugs and smirks slightly, “though me smelling like blood, gore, and antiseptic would be one way to confuse my opponents”. Danny blinks and wheezes a little, and actually being able to lay down now that he’s got a new brace, thinking of how if he transformed back human during a fight he would just be in scrubs and possibly bloody. Laughing a bit, “and if they saw me all bloody gloved etcetera, I’d probably stun them into forgetting to defend themselves!”, staring at the ceiling for a bit before adding, “okay, Skulker might be proud actually. Thinking I was skinning someone or something. Spectra and Plasmius might think I was dabbling in the mad scientist side of life and death”.

Lewis shrugs, he’s worked under more inconvenient circumstances that an underling running off. There was that notable time when half the OR lit on fire and the fire extinguisher exploded, while he was in the middle of doing an emergency Cholecystectomy, “well if you worked in a morgue then rushing off wouldn’t matter too much. I don’t think a cadaver would really care or mind all that much. Also-”, Lewis holds up his bandaging kit, “-it’s about time to refresh those bandages”. Especially considering the one on his bisected arm was probably too tight now. That ectoline was pretty thick.

Danny nods acceptingly before screwing up his face something fierce, “I think I work and deal with death and the dead enough as it is, thank you very much”. Though Danny has to admit the docs got a point, a rather funny one too. The half-dead who fights the dead working on dead remains.

Lewis doesn’t seem to care that Danny’s already vetoed this idea, speaking as he sets to work, “and, correct me if I’m wrong here, if one of the deceased you handled also resulted in a ghost, you could help with closure, finding out what happened, or even be there when the ghost formed? Or do they not form here on Earth before going to the Ghost Zone?”.

Danny blinks, that made a weird level of sense if you didn’t know the first thing about ghost culture, “Lewis, no offence or anything, but if I was a whole ass ghost and someone just came out and told me they worked on my corpse, I would be more than a little put off. Plus-”, Danny lifts a hand off the bed and points at him, “-hurting a ghost with, making a ghost relive, reminding a ghost of, or asking about how; they died, is a big no-no. It don’t bother me because what offed me is literally in the basement and I see it daily. I’m one Hell of outlier. Also, yeah ghosts don’t form here on Earth. They form in the Zone”. Danny sits up on his elbows and Lewis dutifully waits for Danny to finish up his ghost culture speech, “there is some other more general exceptions I guess. Like deathdays and any powers that are tied to how the ghost died. Like my Ghostly Wail for example”, Danny moves his hands around a bit animatedly, Lewis is pretty sure he’s defying gravity to do so without falling back into the bed, “I have that one because I just screamed so goddamn much and loudly that it became a power. Sam and Tuck are very glad it does not sound like my actual scream. Hence calling it a ‘wail’ instead of a ‘scream’. Still sounds pretty horrifying I’m told though”.

Lewis will absolutely admit, if asked, that hearing Danny just bluntly talk about dying and screaming in agony to such a severe degree that it basically imprinted on his very spirit and became part of his being, is a bit disturbing. Especially with part of that said spirit intangibly waving through him. Even if Danny had already basically said he screamed very loudly. Loud enough for an entire dimension to hear him. And he has to ask, because he’s interested, “so it hurt that bad huh?”.

Danny points at him, “and there you have an example of something you should never ask a ghost. But yes. It sucked. Go get struck by four lightning bolts at once and open up a blackhole in your chest, and that would probably be comparable”. Lewis can only nod in acquiescence and a bit of sympathy at that. When Danny said he died rather brutally, he was not kidding. He still didn’t know exactly how Danny died or what exactly -he had a pretty darn good guess though- had killed him. Not a very pleasant conversation, especially if that was ‘taboo’ for ghosts, to be having.

Lewis, well aware his social skills are a bit lacking, rather jarringly changes the subject as he finishes up on the wrappings, “I’d say you'd still make a decent surgeon or assistant though. I’d dare say you’d be better company than most of my underlings”.

Danny sputters a bit incredulously, eyebrows shooting up into his hair, “are you offering me a job???”. Danny’s brain doesn’t even know what to begin to think about that.

“Legally, no. You have no training or schooling to speak of”, Lewis turns his head to the door as Maddie calls that supper’s ready, getting up and looking to Danny again, “but, let’s say the offer’s there should you choose to pursue medical school”.

Danny is more than a little bit thrown, especially when Lewis damn winks at him before heading out the door. The fuck is he supposed to make of that? For now that’s getting shoved in a neat little ‘what the fuck’ box in his brain. While he floats over to his hover cushion so he can hover down for food.

Lewis does take some genuine pleasure and pride out of Danny giving him some seriously strange looks as they sit down for supper. It’s like the first time Anne and him invited Eddie over, like he was expecting Lewis to say ‘haha just kidding, get the fuck out of here’ and like Lewis just could not be a real person. But just like then, Lewis means his actions and words.

Lewis finishes spooning some of the (overcooked)spaghetti noodles onto his plate, ignoring the plate of pancakes that are definitely horribly stale at this point. Slightly tempted to tell Danny off for eating them, but Eddie eats far worse.

Glancing to Maddie as she smiles at Danny, “you look to be doing better now sweetie”, she sounds a fair bit strained.

Danny nods, clearly having picked up on her tone and thus looking a little paranoid, “yeah, I uh, expended all the energy I think”.

Maddie nods absently, “that’s good. No problems with your chest or anything?”.

Lewis is pretty sure Danny’s resisting squinting suspiciously, instead just raising an eyebrow and plastering his face with a look of curious innocence, “no?”. Maddie and Jack both simply nod instead of answering.  

Alright, Lewis thinks, this is officially awkward. Even by his standards. He’s a bit thankful when Jasmine comes down the stairs seconds later, yawning all the while. “Guys get caught up in work again?”, sitting and taking the bowl of noddles, sensibly avoiding the hours' old pancakes.

Jack nods eagerly, obviously grasping at the conversational life-raft, “yup! We struck a few new ideas. We’re still working through the kinks though”, Jack tilts his head and looks to Lewis, “got a few questions for you actually”.

Lewis quirks an eyebrow and ignores how Danny covers up a frown by shoving a fork full of noodles into his mouth. Lewis is not the one to call upon to rescue drowning conversations, and proceeds to prove that by saying nothing more than, “oh?”.

Maddie nods before glancing a little worriedly at Danny, which just serves to make Danny a little more worried, “it’s about Danny’s surgery. Though maybe you’d want to get settled in first”, Lewis waves her concerns off, so she turns to Danny, “and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable sweetie”.

Danny’s pretty sure it’s a little late to avoid making him uncomfortable. And he absolutely wants to know what his parents are curious about. There’s a lot of options really, considering Lewis worked on pretty well his entire body and put foreign metals in it. But wouldn’t Lewis have already told them about all that? He decides just to shrug like he doesn’t care.

Jazz shakes her head, she’d like to say surgery isn’t suitable table talk, but in the Fenton house, everything was suitable table talk. But a normal teenager absolutely should be bothered hearing about their own surgery and considering Danny’s nightmares often included dissection, this is firmly not healthy for him, “is it something explicit?”.

Maddie shakes her head immediately, certainly Danny wouldn’t like to hear about that and honestly, neither would she. “No, nothing like that”, Maddie decides that there really isn’t any gentle or kind way to ask before looking back to Dan, “we were just wondering if, when you were...working, you saw anything unusual. Like...a ball of energy, maybe”. 

Everyone pauses their eating and goes silent, Danny drops his fork.

[chasholidays]

Pursuant of the previously discussed post regarding Batman's age: Jake and Amy find out that Batman is essentially a teenage dad, panic, and adopt Batman.

the post in question; I didn’t get the teenage dad part in there it’s just the 99 adopting batman for no reason except that they can

Jake opens his presentation on Monday morning with, “Guess who just got a new superhero!”

“Is it us or is it Manhattan?” asks Terry. “Because it’s usually Manhattan.”

“He serves all five boroughs, Terry! Don’t try to take this away from me.”

“So he’s in Manhattan,” Rosa surmises.

“Moving on,” Jake says, hitting the button on his powerpoint to show a grainy image of a form dressed in all black with a cape. “He’s been spotted every night for the past week all over all five boroughs, including Brooklyn. So far he seems to be on our side.” He hits the next slide, a group of people in an alley, tied together somehow. “Catching perps and calling in tips to let police know where they are.”

“But still a criminal,” says Captain Holt.

“Come on, Captain, we need all the help we can get. And he’s so cool! I haven’t told you his name yet.”

“I assume something juvenile and non-descriptive.”

“Batman!” Jake exclaims.

“Is he a furry?” Rosa asks.

“No, Rosa, he’s not a furry.”

“How do you know he’s not a furry?”

“Actually, that’s a good question,” Amy puts in. “Maybe not specifically the furry thing, but how much do you know about this guy?”

He hits the button for the next slide. “This is the best shot we have of his costume. Does that look like a fursuit to you?”

“Why do you know what a fursuit looks like?” Terry asks.

“Because I did my research! Look, we’re getting away from the point. The point is: Batman is now a presence in the city. So far he is non-hostile to law enforcement and helping us!”

“But he is still a vigilante and if you encounter him, you should bring him in,” says Captain Holt.

“Counterpoint: he has cool stuff and we should ask him if he wants to share it.”

“Peralta, do you believe that the NYPD is a good thing?”

Jake pauses. “I believe the 99 is. Other than that, I’d say it’s a pretty mixed bag.”

“Yeah, NYPD’s had some issues,” Rosa puts in. “Can’t trust cops.”

“Fair enough,” says Holt. “Peralta, do you believe that the NYPD is a theoretically good thing that we should be improving?”

“Definitely.”

“If this–Batman character believes the same, he should be working within the system. If you want to fight crime, put on a police uniform, not a fursuit.”

“I disagree with you on a fundamental level but also can you say fursuit again?”

“No.”

“Damn it.” He sobers. “Look, the system doesn’t work for everyone, Captain. As long as Batman is on our side, we shouldn’t be trying to stop him.”

“I don’t believe we know enough about his so-called side to be saying he’s an ally. Regardless, unless you encounter the Batman, I don’t see any reason to pay any attention to him. However, it is useful to know about local vigilantes, so I appreciate the presentation, Peralta. Is that all?”

Jake clicks rapidly through a few more slides. “Bat fursuit for comparison, picture of his symbol, a few more cell phone pics, yup, that’s it.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

“You’re going to go look for Batman, huh,” Rosa murmurs, as they leave.

“Obviously,” says Jake. “He’s a hero.”

“He’s gonna be a furry.”

“He’s not a furry!” Jake calls at her, and she just waves over her shoulder, dismissive. “Not a furry.”

Amy manages a weak smile. “Sure he’s not.”

*

Charles is the first to actually encounter Batman.

“I was terrified!” he reports.

Jake makes a face. “You shouldn’t sound so happy when you say that.”

“Think about it Jake, if he scares me, he’ll scare criminals.”

“Wrong,” says Rosa. “You’re afraid of way more things than criminals are.”

“Yeah, Charles,” Amy adds. “You were scared of the My Little Pony movie.”

“Hey, that got dark.”

“So, what was he like, tell me everything,” says Jake.

“Well, he spoke in a deep, raspy voice. He told me to stay out of his way, and I asked him if he was a furry. Apparently he gets that a lot!”

“Well, that sounds like about what I would expect,” says Jake. “Did he at least give you some perps to round up?”

“Nope! He shot a grappling hook into the air and swung away.”

“Still cool! Counting that as a win.” He rubs his hands together. “Who’s next?”

*

It’s Rosa, three days later.

“I told him his car was dope. He told me my bike was dope. End of interaction.”

“How dope was his car?” Jake asks.

“So dope.”

“I knew it.”

*

Amy doesn’t mean to find Batman; it just happens.

“Tell me everything,” Jake says, when she gets home.

“There’s really not much to tell. Honestly, he was kind of a letdown.”

“Letdown? How could he be a letdown?”

“Well, I was walking home–”

“Uh huh, uh huh.”

“This is going to take forever if you react to everything.”

“Good feedback, continue.”

“I was walking home and I heard a fight. I went to investigate and I found him fighting with one guy, two already down. I put down my bags, got out my gun, and told them to freeze. Batman punched the last guy while he was distracted, and then he said, They’re all yours.”

“How is that a letdown?”

“I feel like he could have had a cooler line. Also, his voice was almost too gravely? He was trying way too hard.”

“He’s still new, he’ll grow into it. Maybe we could help him out.”

“You want to help Batman?”

“You’ve seen my diary full of quippy one-liners, you know I could give him suggestions.” The noise she makes is non-committal, and he protests, “Lots of those are good!”

“Some of them are.”

“They’re better than they’re all yours.”

“True. I just don’t think you should get too attached to this guy. I’m not sure he has what it takes to make it as a superhero.”

“Agree to disagree! I will be putting all my hopes and dreams onto him and will be crushed if he ever lets me down.”

Amy sighs. “That’s what I thought.”

*

Terry starts the care packages, albeit accidentally.

“I don’t think he’s eating right, and he definitely needs a better workout routine. Terry would make a much better vigilante.”

“Terry would,” Jake agrees. “We could make that happen.”

“I don’t want to be a vigilante, Jake.”

“But if you did, you would be an amazing one.”

“I would.”

“You really think Batman needs workout tips?” Amy asks, putting the conversation back on track.

“Everyone needs workout tips. Even Terry is still learning!”

“Then it’s settled,” says Jake. “Terry will prepare a care package, which we will deliver to Batman!”

“That’s not what I said,” Terry protests.

“Don’t you want to help him become his best self?”

Terry shifts, uncomfortable. “You know I do.”

“Perfect! You get the baskets done and we’ll do the rest.”

“How are you possibly going to give Batman a care package,” Rosa says, so dubious it doesn’t really qualify as a question.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“You don’t know, do you.”

“No, so I guess it’s for everyone to find out! Get me that basket, Sarge.”

*

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god it’s really him.”

“Stay calm, Jake.” Amy waves. “Excuse me, Batman?” The man turns. He’s definitely not as big as Terry, in any dimension. “Santiago and Peralta, NYPD. We have something for you.”

“What?” he says. His voice might be even deeper than the last time Amy heard it.

Jake thrusts the basket out. “We’re big fans and we just want you to be your best self, so–here! It’s a lot of yogurt and some exercises you can use to build your core.”

“Whose core doesn’t need a little work, right?” Amy asks.

Batman looks between their faces and the basket for a second, and then reaches out and accepts it, fast, like a wild animal.

“Thank you,” he says.

“And thank you for helping protect our city,” Jake says, too fast. “Do you have your grappling hook? Can you take me for an amazing ride through the city in your big strong arms?”

“Dial it back, babe,” Amy murmurs.

“Good call. If you ever need help in Brooklyn, come to the 99!”

“Understood,” he says, and then has to try to grappling hook away from the scene while juggling the basket, which is a little awkward.

“We’re going to work on that!” Jake calls. “And your one-liners!” He turns to Amy with a smile. “I think that went well.”

Amy pats his arm. “The best.”

*

“Attention, squad,” says Captain Holt, after a few weeks of covert Batman-helping. “It has come to my attention that you have been aiding and abetting the Batman in his vigilante activities.”

“No and no,” says Jake. “Why would you think that?”

“For one thing, the sergeant told me.”

“Damn it, Terry!”

“I had to! Terry’s conscience got the better of him!”

“Look, Captain, we’re not doing that much. Giving him some snacks, some workout tips, maybe a few ideas for witty banter. It’s not like we’re teaming up with him or anything, although I think that would be great PR and we should do it if at all possible.”

“Ah, yes, the excellent public-relations strategy of law enforcement working with someone who is actively breaking the law.”

“Jake’s right, Captain,” Gina pipes up. “People like the Batman way more than they like us. If we could find some way to leech some of his popularity it would deffo be great for the precinct. Like if he endorsed us? It would be amazing.”

“See, Captain? The people love Batman!” Jake pauses. “Is it Batman or the Batman? Ames?”

“Honestly, it’s very inconsistent across publications and social media. I wrote a letter to the New York Times editorial board to see why they’d elected to use the definite article but I haven’t heard back yet. They’re probably really busy.”

“Excellent, keep us posted. See, Captain? He’s so popular!”

“Stop giving the Batman care packages,” says the Captain. “Dismissed.”

“He never said we had to stop giving him stuff.”

“Jake!”

“Come on, it’s getting cold! I don’t think he’s adequately insulated for winter. And, let’s be real, he’s probably some broke college kid who put all this stuff together in his garage. If we don’t help him, he’ll starve and/or freeze.”

Amy gasps, about half genuinely. “Are you trying to be a caretaker?”

“Maybe I’m finally becoming responsible!”

“Hey, let’s not carried away.”

“Yeah, okay, giving stuff to an adult man dressed as a bat is definitely a baby step. Still, baby step!”

“Baby step!”

“Do you think I could knit him a scarf?”

Amy smiles. “I think you could definitely try.”

*

“Attention, squad,” Gina announces, one morning in December. “I am thrilled to inform you that our campaign to gain public support through our support of the Batman has worked.”

“Do not say that,” says Captain Holt. “We have no way of knowing if that this has anything to do with the Batman.”

“What is it?” asks Terry.

“We received a large anonymous donation, for our service to the city. I’m sure it’s unrelated.”

“And I’m sure it’s not!” says Jake. “We’re the cops who knitted Batman a sweater and the people support us. How much money is it? Did we get it in bags? Is there a pool we could fill with the money and then we go swimming?”

“There is not and the money is going to the precinct, not to us personally. There will be no swimming in it. And I will once again ask you to stop giving the Batman sweaters.”

“Request denied, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to us. Merry Christmas to all!”

*

In the Wayne manor, twenty-three-year-old Bruce Wayne is sitting in front of the fire, wearing a very poorly made black sweater with a yellow circle on the front, when Alfred comes in a letter. “A thank-you note. From Brooklyn’s 99th precinct, for your generous contribution.”

Bruce smiles. “Thank you, Alfred. That will be all.”

[televisor-reviews]

Everything Of Note I Have To Say About “Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil” Season 4!

As I’m sure you’re aware, the great animated series Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil has recently concluded and I have a ton to say about it... So I made a list!

1. Spoilers...

2. Duh...

3. Before anything, I absolutely loved it! This was the finale this great show really deserved.

4. Let’s start from the beginning: I’ve been watching Star Vs. for a few years now when a good friend of mine recommended it to me. At first I was resistant because the advertising for it at the time was god awful, but luckily I was convinced otherwise and been loving it ever since.

5. The show premiered when I was a teenager, going through all the cliche teen shit. So seeing a show that portrayed the overly dramatic life of a teenager without being one of those stock teen dramas was a good change of pace.

6. In particular, I remember being amazed that it could be so relatable while still being able to have it’s upbeat and fast-paced fantasy/sci-fi action sequences and world while also having a good mixture of mature and juvenile humor. I mean, all of that would seem to work against each other and yet this show made it work in spades.

7. Actually, the way Star Vs. uses it’s fictitious setting to complement its down-to-earth characters while juggling great humor reminds me a lot of a different Disney property: Guardians Of The Galaxy. GOTG, I think, is the perfect film to study if you want to ever write for sci-fi or fantasy because director James Gunn understood that you can have as wild and crazy of a world as you want but you still need to write your characters as genuine as possible. If you don’t, you’ll get something like Avatar (the movie); a film that everyone remembers liking because of the incredible world and even better effects, but no one can name a single character or plot-point. The universe still needs to be grounded by the characters or else it’ll become forgettable and un-relatable. Star Vs., thankfully, does not have this problem. I love the characters, their trials, their tribulations, all because they feel real despite the world in which it takes place.

8. That isn’t to say there isn’t a reason to set a story in a fantastical world or that there isn’t an issue with being too relatable. If anything, the world of the show helps to make it more entertaining, less monotonous, and more unique. Without it, Star Vs. would be another Pretty Little Liars or Zoey 101 or Dawson’s Creek or any other boring teen drama out there. They’re practically identical because they start off too similarly! They all follow around relatively normal teenagers in a relatively normal world with their relatively normal life and god do none of them stand out. So Star Vs. separates itself by still keeping its characters pretty wacky and the universe as crazy as Daron Nefcy’s imagination!

9. Even by a storytelling perspective, this makes more sense because there is objectively more that can be done! By the end of Zoey 101, Zoey and her lame crew basically did everything they could do without jumping the shark too much. In comparison, there are countless adventures Marco and Star could go on even past the series finale.

10. And because the number of future adventures are countless, part of the tragedy of the show ending is that we (the audience) don’t get to experience them alongside these characters we’ve learned to love so much. Keeping that door open leaves a much longer lasting impression on the audience, as apposed to the ending of Zoey 101 in which... wait, what happened again? I don’t remember. Anyways!

11. I love the comedy in this show! From the very beginning, the humor was very lighthearted and yet mature because it had to be. It had to have a tinge of maturity to it because the target audience isn’t little kids like it would be for a show like My Little Pony or SpongeBob. Star Vs., with it’s doomsday atmosphere and constant teen drama, was definitely geared more towards older children/preteens. The ones more likely to watch a show like Gravity Falls or Rick And Morty and this audience will not tolerate childish humor. They can appreciate it sprinkled in here and there but if used too much, they’re taste will sour. This is because as they are maturing to to start maturing into adulthood, there is the natural need to separate from childish things with the added childishness of wanting to totally separate from it. That’s why on The Loud House, a punchline could literally be poop and why that is not something you’d see very often on Star Vs.

12. With that said, the show still needed the humor to be incredibly lighthearted because otherwise this show would be so depressing! The worlds in which these characters live in and know are constantly changing, evolving, and almost blowing up. For Christ sake, many important characters die in this finale! The only one who died in Gravity Falls was the villain and in this, the villain isn’t even one of them! Seeing Marco and Star still be able to crack jokes to one another and making each other laugh keeps spirits high. God knows Hekapoo can’t do that now!

13. Speaking of Marco and Star, I have been a hardcore Starco defender from the very beginning despite the show constantly trying to convince me otherwise! There are so many perfect pairings in this cast that any one of them could’ve worked if Nefcy were top change her mind. If it ended with Star x Tom or Marco x Janna or Star x Janna or Marco x Hekapoo or Marco x Tom or Marco x Kelly it would’ve worked perfectly well.

14. But lets not kid ourselves, it was always going to end with Marco x Star. Their relationship and chemistry is unmatched, they might be the only couple in existence to say a joint line like “With or without magic, we were always meant to be together,” work and come off as not only sincere but true. I don’t even believe in the whole “soul mate” mumbo-jumbo, but I’d be damned if they are not that!

15. I audibly squealed in delight when they finally got together. It was like the build-up of four season culminated in one scene.

16. Though it wouldn’t really surprise me if I was alone in this assessment because I am a sucker for a good romantic movie. I saw La La Land in theaters, I cried at Love, Simon, I actually really love Love Actually. And though I do think Star Vs. pulled off relationships better than most, take my opinion with a grain of salt because the build-up itself was a little grating.

17. I have a huge issue with “will-they, won’t-they” stories! It’s the same issue I had with The Office and Friends and The Big Bang Theory and Sailor Moon and That ‘70s Show and every other show that has this dumb trope! Of course they’ll get together because otherwise I wasted several hours of my life wondering about it! Star Vs. isn’t as bad about this as most others but it’s still there and it’s still annoying.

18. It does this better than most because of three main components: it’s relatively short, we get plenty of Star and Marco being all lovey-dovey with each other once they do get together, and they do have genuine chemistry together. They have so much chemistry that Star’s ex literally told Marco that they were clearly into each other. If only they could’ve avoided the trope.

19. Okay, this next point is a little personal but it did effect my feelings towards this show’s finale so I think it’s kind of important that I mention it. Around the time the Star Vs. was ending, I was just entering my first real relationship and around the time I watched this finale, we lasted long enough that we could start taking the relationship a little bit more seriously. Now before anyone says anything: everything’s going great (she actually made me my header) and I am absolutely still in a honeymoon phase with her. But I think you could imagine how a lovesick teen just entering a serious relationship would be effected by this show that ended with lovesick teens so in love that they’d happily sacrifice themselves for the other.

20. I may or may not have also been high while watching this and that may or may not have effected my viewing experience. Don’t be a narc!

21. I love what this last season did with Ludo. Push away the fact that they somehow keep talking Alan Tudyk into these rolls he clearly does need to do and yet still does a great job at it (did you know he was King Candy in Wreck-It Ralph? Why? Why did he do that? Why is he so good in it? This guy’s casting decisions are so weird). The character of Ludo was a generic comic relief villain (see Doofenshmirtz) but was usually fine if only because he made for a good contrast and was way more interesting compared to Toffee (played by Michael C. Hall, another actor who does not need this job). But season four made Ludo a million times more interesting by showing his obsession with the wand exactly what it is: and unhealthy obsession that he needs to get over. And I like where he’s left by the end, clearly still not doing too great but is making strides to get better. As someone who has known many addicts in my life, this hit home a little.

22. Actually, I think a large part of season four was specifically meant to fix the first two mediocre seasons. Just look at my new favorite episode of the series: Britta’s Tacos. In this episode, Star and Marco find themselves back on Earth after a year of being on Mewni and catching up with all of their friends and seeing what’s changed. Watching this episode, I was reminded that as good as the first couple of seasons were, the latter half of the series was a ton better! The characters, character arcs, stories, everything, everything was better once they went up to Mewni. So seeing them go back to Earth and challenging the writers with rewriting their past characters to be more interesting showed just how much the series has improved. Could you imagine characters as uninteresting as those nerds I don’t even remember the names of being introduced in the much more interesting latter seasons? I couldn’t! So I appreciate that they went back and made sure every character in this show was interesting... except for Toffee, he still sucks.

23. And of course, the character that improved the most, hands down was absolutely Jackie Lynn Thomas! She was as bland and boring as a love interest got and that bothered me from the very beginning. How is it that in a show this imaginative and unique they still felt it necessary to use this tired cliche. So bringing her back, the writers had to do something to make her more interesting and it was apparently really easy. All they had to do was keep the character herself basically the same but now she’s a lesbian. And somehow, just adding that one extra layer made her feel so different, so interesting, so complete. I think that’s what it was, she just felt like an incomplete plot point and giving her a girlfriend completely separates herself from being important to the plot and adds that extra layer to make her seem more finished as a character.

24. I’m actually really surprised by this recent trend of LGBTQ+ characters in kids cartoons. You’d think that of all mediums, kids cartoons would be the last to fully integrate a controversial minority but they’ve been some of the first. Steven Universe really started this trend but I feel like The Loud House was the first to show and say it outright. Star Vs. doesn’t do it that well (and I’m willing to bet that was because of higher-ups over at Disney) but I appreciate the sentiment anyways. They never call Jackie and her girlfriend a couple or show them kissing, the most they do is have them hold hands and though I guess that’s enough, I wish they were able to go further. Whatever, I already wrote about why this representation in kids media is important, go read that.

25. For a while, Star was my favorite character in this show. I just have a real soft-spot for upbeat female badasses (and I am very happy this has become more of a trope recently), I think Janna might’ve taken the throne. It’s not that Star stopped being interesting or anything like that, I just really love Janna and her “Jannanigans”. Plus, I do really like the “cute girl who’s into weird shit” trope too. She’s not my favorite version of this trope (see Raven from 2003′s Teen Titans), but she was always a delight whenever she was on screen.

26. Tom is probably the most obvious example of “boring character was made interesting” that the show has. In the beginning, he was the standard bad boy archetype but, over time, was given more personality and started working off the other characters much better. Sure, he and Star worked great with each other as to be expected, but I think the real standout relationship he had was with Marco. I have never seen bromance as strong as what those two have. Their little musical number at Queen Moon’s cornonation turned talent contest might have been the greatest piece of animation ever made (change my mind). And this I know people agree with me, I cannot exaggerate just how much literally everyone I have ever spoken to loves Marco and Tom. It just works so strangely, it has to come off as genuine.

27. I think the series was supposed to go on for another season. I say this because Kelly was too good of a character to waste like they did! She was a great character with tons of personality and amazing chemistry with Marco that was seemingly building up to something... only to drop the ball at the end. She isn’t given much to do, she doesn’t have a final scene with Marco, she isn’t even given a good ending. The most we got was Ponyhead theorizing what her life would be like just to cheer up Star. If that was all they were going to do with Kelly, that’s just a waste of perfectly good build-up.

28. It’s very strange how on the nose these metaphors in the show got at times while still seeming perfect. I guess it had to be on the nose so that the younger audience could catch on to them but I’m not sure what the’ll do with the knowledge that magic=nuclear power. Also, the monsters kind of changed metaphors, originally they were clearly meant to be Native American stand-ins but later on they kind of changed into African American stand-ins. Not that they’re histories (in America) are all that different but it was a noticeable switch. It’s not like Zootopia where any given animal could represent any number of races depending on the scene in question, this was definitely what Star Vs. was going for and I’m not sure if it totally worked. It didn’t NOT work, I guess.

29. I actually don’t like the whole “blowing up the magic” thing. It was something Star made up in a temper tantrum and goes totally against the theme. The whole time, the show was going on about how important integration is and how “separate but equal” doesn’t work and whatnot. So destroying the only way they know how to travel through different dimensions seems contrary to that point. I get that drastic times need drastic measures but I get the feeling that in a theoretical season five, Star and Marco would work to bring back the magic. Or maybe find a more scientific way to travel through dimensions... like some kind of portal gun. We already know this takes place in the same multiverse as Rick And Morty, it’s not that crazy an idea.

30. Another reason I think there was originally going to be another season is because the whole “Mewmans are humans” thing that came right out of nowhere! I mean, it makes total sense and I’m totally down with this plot point but it seems like that would be a much bigger deal than the characters make it out to be. My god, they don’t even let Marco finish explaining this. How the hell did that cave painting get to Earth if they didn’t run into Glossaryck until they got to Mewni! Explanation please!

31. I wish destroying the magic didn’t also mean killing off Glossaryck and Hekapoo. I don’t really care about any of the other characters literally made out of magic, but those two are just so likable and such fan favorites, it’s just a shame to see them go. Though I do really like that they’re reaction to the whole thing seems to just be a mild shrug. I get the idea that since they’ve lived for millennia which would make them more okay with dying. It’s easier to live a full life if you can’t die.

32. I like how Mina’s story ends: defeated and yet still refusing it. Her whole speech about having good ideas really says something, like these issues will never be fully defeated because everyone thinks that they’re right. It’s a bit more of a bittersweet moral than “bad always loses because they’re bad” but is an important lesson that I think kids need to learn. Especially in this political climate. Good god, just end me!

33. Holy shit, I’m up to 33! My Wakfu one only made it up to 25 and I am nowhere close to done yet!

34. A psychotic part of me really wishes the finale had Star and Marco die in each other’s arms in the Magic Dimension. It’d be the ultimate show of love as they’re sacrificing each other for one another and be the ultimate ending. I mean, what more is there to care about after the main two characters are dead? It’d be very bittersweet and much more emotionally taxing on the audience but it’d also be more classic. Like Romeo and Juliet or Bonnie and Clyde, they’re love was just too strong for this world.

35. With that said, that part of me is absolutely wrong! Having their dimensions merge was clearly what the series was building up to with it’s hopeful tone, the power of love being a big theme, the message of integration, and (of course) the promise they made to Meteora and Hispanic Meteora. It seems so obvious in hindsight and yet I still didn’t see it coming, I guess that’s a sign of a really good plot twist.

36. My god, everyone is such a dick to Queen Moon. Like let her be in love you jackasses. I had such a hard time liking anyone who worked against her (which is why I really like that Hekapoo had reservations on both sides the whole time) and this includes Ex-Queen Moon. I really can’t grasp my mind as to why she thought this was a good idea, it clearly wasn’t from the very beginning. Maybe if the show gave her time to explain herself I’d be singing a different tune but she never really does and I have a hard time forgiving her even after her apology.

37. This is just a reminder that Starco is best ship. Repeat, Starco is still best ship.

38. The ending reminds me of Titanic. I mean, two young lovebirds meeting each other, growing closer, and falling in love all the while a looming threat of destruction and death is above them. The epic scale of their problem being brought down to earth by the almost normal love story happening in the midst of it all. Their ever ready willingness to sacrifice everything for each other. Their world forcing them to cling to each other for protection. The grand scale of everything around them making their love seem grander than it would be without it. Yeah, there are more and probably better examples I could turn to for comparison (Romeo And Juliet, Les Miserables, Spartacus) but Titanic was the first one to come to mind and I’m sure my subconsciousness has a good reason for that.

39. I continue to have problems with this finale but I get the sense that I’m nitpicking because this was still an amazing end to a great show. When I think about this ending, the first word that comes to mind is deserves. This is the ending that the story deserves, that the characters (minus Kelly) deserves, that the show itself deserves. It really is a fantastic finale and I’m so grateful that I got to experience it.

40.

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Penguindrum, Episodes 7-9

In which I’m forced to confront an unpleasant truth, Ringo refuses to learn, and Himari takes a walk on the bonkers side.

Dead Horse

Well, I think it’s official; Penguindrum is going to keep testing me right up to the finish line. We’re getting close to the halfway point, and it’s become increasingly clear that this show exists in a very volatile headspace. It’s got a lot of ideas and a lot of stuff to say, but I can never be sure of what the result of those ideas is going to be once it starts trying to make them a reality. Maybe it works like gangbusters, maybe it falls completely flat. It’s like the show is handling a hazardous isotope that could explode with radiation at any moment, desperately trying to keep it stable while balancing it on a tightrope. Any moment it could slip and fall, setting off a chain reaction that leaves a pile of fuming wreckage in its wake. But at the same time, it could just as easily be harnessed into a source of energy so powerful it illuminates the whole damn hemisphere. That’s the uncertainty at the heart of Penguindrum; it’s constantly straddling the line between daredevil, risk-taking genius and frustrating aggravation, with no good indication of where its feet will land at any given time. If nothing else, it makes watching the damn thing one hell of an adrenaline rush. There’s something exhilarating about not knowing whether you’re going to get something good or not, of the possibility that you’ll get smacked with a faceful of blah. Penguindrum is walking a ridiculously fine line, and if nothing else, I give it credit for that bravery.

Obviously, though, it’s not exactly a mark in the show’s favor if I’m not certain whether or not it’s going to be good when it starts up a new scene. I am far from given up on Penguindrum yet, but there are definitely aspects about it that are crossing my tolerance for bullshit. And the nexus of all those complaints is, sadly, a pretty major element: Ringo’s ongoing subplot that continues to suck up all the air in the room. I’m getting the sense that her story is overall more central to the overall narrative than I initially pegged; her motivations and obstacles have been the show’s driving force pretty much since she was introduced back in episode 2. And that wouldn’t inherently be a bad thing if her story felt like a strong, meaningful addition to Penguindrum’s overall package, but sadly, it’s only becoming more and more aggravating as time goes on. The problem is that in comparison to the interpersonal drama between Himari and her brothers that first hooked me on the characters, Ringo’s struggles are both frustratingly underdeveloped and purposefully unpleasant to experience, which makes for a double whammy of “Why am I watching this?” that just gets stronger and stronger as it keeps going. I never get the feeling that her crush on the teacher is actually going anywhere. It just keeps cycling through the same motions scene after scene; Ringo gets childishly jealous over an older man she has no right to, imagines the world through a juvenile fantasy scenario that justifies the increasingly fucked-up actions she takes in pursuit of him, the real world pushes back as everyone else acts like a sensible adult, dashing her dreams, but she decides the best course of action is just to try harder and more desperately, lather, rinse, repeat ad nauseum.

I want to emphasize this point as much as I can, because this is a serious flaw in the show’s writing. Conflict is supposed to go somewhere; it’s supposed to develop and progress, to take on new dimensions and new tactics, to evolve with the story and characters. Conflict is the driving force of any plot, and that conflict has to be going somewhere for the story to be moving forward. But the conflict here has been spinning in circles ever since it was first brought up. Ringo hasn’t learned anything, she hasn’t been forced to adapt her worldview to account for her failures, she just keeps repeating the same mistakes over and over again, and she stubbornly refuses to make the slightest bit of progress. It doesn’t even feel like the refusal to change is part of some thematic point anymore; I could see how Ringo would want to hold onto her delusions as long as she possibly could, but I don’t get the sense that this is her shutting reality out as it creeps further and further in. It just feels like she’s incapable of responding to external stimuli, like she’s really dumb enough to not take the obvious hints screaming at her from every angle and change what obviously isn’t working and never had any chance of working. It’s not fun to watch somebody go through the motions of fucking up over and over again without ever feeling like they’re going through any meaningful change, even change for the worse. Ringo’s story has become the central driving force of Penguindrum, but that force has been stuck in place for episodes on end now. And no matter how many times the show remixes her delusions as cutesy fantasy scenarios, it’s not going to hide the fact that this train has stalled out on the tracks.

Get Over Yourself

Still, all this frustration over this conflict grinding its gears for episodes on end is only a symptom of a much larger issue, one that’s become impossible to ignore in light of recent events; Ringo is a bad person. She’s possessive, she’s manipulative, she’s utterly selfish, and she’s perfectly happy to trample over other people to get what she wants. This is an extension of that whole “never learns” thing; every chance Ringo has to climb out of the hole she’s dug for herself, she only grabs a shovel and digs herself even deeper, refusing to accept that she might be wrong, that her actions are having serious consequences on herself and the world around him. She’s willfully blind to the fact that she is stalking someone with the ultimate intention of raping him for her own desires. And she’s perfectly willing to imagine casting aside everyone her loved ones care about, making their presence in her life all about her. She is fucked up in so many awful, despicable ways, jealous and arrogant and petty and dangerous. And the show’s not blind to that fact; Sho’s been making a habit of rightfully calling out the cruelty of the actions she takes, refusing to let her charge ahead blind to her own consequences, even if she refuses to listen. He’s trying to yank her out of her own head and into the real world, to force her to confront her mistakes and face what she’s done. But as things stand, I’m left with a very uncomfortable feeling; I don’t think Ringo deserves to be redeemed.

I’m not against heroes in fiction being flawed, even in serious ways. Just look at Re:Zero, a show that managed to make its central protagonist into someone utterly wretched and still have us rooting for him to improve. But there’s a level of mean-spiritedness and callousness to Ringo that is very rapidly stripping away my ability to sympathize with her. She’s not just a flawed individual who needs to improve herself, she’s an active threat to the people in her life, someone who doesn’t care about how many people get hurt as long as she gets what she wants. And it’s all for a shallow, stupid crush that never had any chance of working out in the first place. I cannot stomach watching this bitch build herself up in her mind, claiming she’s an agent of destiny working for some noble cause, while she’s preparing to sexually assault someone who trusts her and dismissing any attempt to see what she’s doing is wrong. There is nothing noble, nothing sympathetic, nothing likable about what she’s trying to do and how she’s trying to do it. So how the hell can Penguindrum possibly hope to have her develop into someone worth rooting for? Maybe it wont, and Ringo’s supposed to be the villain all along. Maybe that’s the twist we’re building to. Or maybe it’ll somehow find away to make this awful, monstrous person actually face up to what she’s done and commit to being better. Stranger things have certainly happened over the course of writing for this blog. Who’s to say what the future holds?

Welcome to the Dream

But that’s all one half of the equation. That’s the side of this unstable concoction that leaves you with acidic burns and puffy skin. The other side, the side that actually works, is that core of family and connection in the central threesome. Sho, Kanba, and most of all Himari still keep this haphazard affair grounded, and any time the show returns the focus to them is easily when it’s at its best. And nowhere is that clearer than the entirety of episode 9, following Himari through the trippiest sequence this show’s ever delivered, which is saying a lot. Her dream of the past almost feels like something out of Monogatari, a stark, art-deco world of pale contrasts and cavernous hollows, with cinematography and editing that emphasize space, distance, and stillness over motion and impact. Ikuhara’s talents really shine through here; the whole thing feels like a fragmented mirror of its former self, a world seen through a cracked lens andreflected through a stained glass abstraction. Even among the show’s usual off-kilter aesthetic, it stands out in its ethereal brilliance. But more importantly, this entire sequence is a showcase for everything Penguindrum does right, a stirring reminder of how damn good it can be when it’s got its act together.

Consider that we don’t really learn that much over the course of this episode. Library ward Sanetoshi even says outright that the story they were telling hasn’t reached its conclusion yet; we still have yet to find out what happened to drive Himari away from her friends, why they went off and secured their future as idols while leaving her behind. Yet at the same time, we learn so much it’s almost scary. We’re given an emotional context into how the show’s central character became wrapped up in the penguin hat mess, the complex tangle of regrets and mistakes that brought her to the dream library in the first place. We come to understand how important these friends were to her, how easily and unforcedly they stood by her side and fought for her. And we get to see the real Himari outside of anyone’s context but her own; flawed, scared, hopeful, uncertain, desperate to believe she can make something better than what she left behind but uncertain what steps she needs to take to get there. It’s an emotional portrait over a purely informational one, and it works like gangbusters; I care so deeply for her now in ways I didn’t before. Just the simple reveal that her former friends were the subway sign idols we’ve been seeing all this time as background gags (not to mention the other girls in the ED) hits with a shocking amount of force, attributing a powerful weight to something we so easily took for granted at the start and forcing us to reconsider what else might have passed us by while we weren’t paying attention. You have no idea what else might be waiting to be revealed, but you’re struck with the certainty that it’s all of the utmost importance.

That’s the Penguindrum I’m on board for. That’s the powerful, profound, layered spectacle of uncertainty and mystery that represents everything this show can be. We’ve only been given a taste of what’s really going on with Himari, what mysterious force is really driving the plot, what the true intentions of the ultimate powers are for our princess in waiting. But I can’t wait to find out what madness still lies in store.

Odds and Ends

-OH GOD DAMMIT IS THAT KYUBEI IN THE TAKARAZA REVUE SPOOF

-Eh, I’ve heard better performances.

-Okay, the way the cardboard people react to Yuri’s entrance cracks me up.

-The penguin eats sandwiches halfway and then puts them back on the tray. Like I said: ASSHOLE.

-I still have no clue what’s going on with Kanba and this dude. How did they meet? How much does he know? What even?

-Also, is it just me, or is Kanba’s hair changing back and forth? Like, I feel he’s too well-groomed and less red sometimes.

-”Thank you for providing my younger brother with instructions.” pfft

-”No fighting, boys!” asldhasdha I love her

-What the- who just stole the diary? What the hell?

-”Finish it and get its fresh blood!” Wow, elementary school was more hardcore than I remember.

And so we press on. See you next time!

[the-tales-of-horror]

The Violet Draught

Original Link By TheDarkGeneral

As my life is almost over, I thought it wise to transcribe my terrible tale to hopefully warn off any who might follow my example. It began, for all intents and purposes, in the far off land of Egypt. If only I had never gone on that trip to begin with, all of this could have been avoided, and I would have lived out my life in peaceful anonymity.

I was a young dilettante with a wealthy father, twenty years old and already convinced I knew exactly what ailed the world. I was resolved to be a painter, partially to irritate my father and partially to itch some artistic ache I thought I had. I was not a bad artist, if you will allow me some slight pride in my juvenile work. But I had no drive, and I had seen nothing and done nothing to fill my work with any genuine emotion. I was a spoiled child drunk on the praise of sycophants and toadies, capable of some basic technique, but nothing more. At the time, I was enamoured with surrealist work, painting fantastic scenes and landscapes that could never exist in reality. My first works had been painted under the effects of hallucinogens, taking drugs until I no longer knew what was real and what was fantasy, and then putting my brush to the easel. My paintings had won me some small acclaim in the small town near New York my father had chosen us to live in, but that was mostly due to the novelty of having a painter. Many of my admirers were yes-men of my fathers, who hoped by showing an interest in me my father would bestow upon them some manner of luxuries.

I apologize, my mind wanders, and the noise makes it difficult to concentrate. I was in Cairo. I had thought a foreign land would excite my mind enough to paint something worthy for the art collectors in New York. Unfortunately, in my immaturity, I mostly found it hot, dirty, and boring. So, wandering through the streets one evening I fell into my usual habits, and vowed to find inspiration.

Through some furtive conversation in back alleys, I eventually found myself at a small nondescript shop in a slum deep in Cairo. It was small, dirty and unimpressive. Opening the door, the inside seemed identical to many of the small oddity shops scattered around the city, filled with worthless pretty junk pawned off to tourists. I was surprised to see the owner was English, since at the time there not many people who lived in Cairo who were not native to the area. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, I expressed my interest in more illicit substances, and with a grave expression, he bid me to follow him to the back rooms. All my usual vices were there, but before I could even voice my interest, the shop owner drew out a dusty purple bottle, and presented it to me.

“This is the Violet Draught” He said, holding the bottle in the palm of of his hand. “You will find nothing more enlightening. It will open your mind to worlds and wonders that you could never even imagine.”

I was transfixed. How could I not be? I took the bottle and opened it. Inside was what appeared to be a thick viscous purple liquid, barely moving when I turned the bottle back and forth. It had no smell whatsoever, but the dust of the bottle and the humidity of the back room.

I bought it on the spot. As I paid for it, I noticed a strange look in the eyes of the British salesman, an almost hungry glee. I paid it no mind, for I was filled with excitement myself about this latest distraction.

I tried it immediately upon returning to my hotel room, setting up my easel and paints in case I would not be able to under the effects of the draught.

Like it looked, the purple liquid was thick, sticky and acrid. It tasted similar to ash, and almost seemed to stick to my throat. I had to swallow more than once to get it all down, and even when I did I could still taste it, and I could still feel it in my throat. Only a few minutes after I finished ingesting the draught, I began hearing things. The first I heard sounded like wind rustling through the trees, and entirely curious feeling as I was still sitting in a hotel room. Then I heard the burble of a stream, and the sound of trees bending. Far off in the distance, I thought I heard something akin to the slithering of many giant snakes, but I quickly attributed it to nothing, as I did not hear it again. To try and better concentrate on these unexpected noises, I closed my eyes. Upon reopening them, my hotel room had vanished, in its place an alien forest of red and blue trees. The ground was a pale grey, and the distance I could see a stream of green water, presumably the one I had heard. Turning behind me I saw a great black plain covered in swaying orange grasses. However, while I heard these sounds of nature, I neither heard nor saw any signs of life whatsoever.

My easel and paints lay in front of me, the only things from our world that seemed to have followed me. For hours I painted this unearthly landscape, only stopping to look around once more and examine the peculiar plants that lay around me. I was lit in purple light for the entirety of my visit, for above me was what appeared to be a massive violet sun.

Eventually I collapsed, my hand throbbing and head aching, into a dreamless sleep. I woke once again in my Egyptian hotel room, drained and desperately hungry, but before lay the greatest painting I had ever made. The colours were sublime, beautifully blending light and dark, illustrating perfectly the insane alien land the purple draught had shown me. I knew this was everything I had strived for, that all my other paintings were mere shadows in comparison to this beauty. I knew in that moment that my whole life had lead up to this, to painting this masterpiece. In my own damned foolishness I thought that all it had take was this violet draught to unlock the beauty of my own psyche, to put the raw talent I was sure I possessed down onto canvas. I was so wrong, so arrogantly, stupidly wrong.

After having a marvellous breakfast to recover after my ordeal, I noticed my teeth seemed slightly sore, and examining them in the mirror, I noticed both they and my fingernails had a slightly purple tint, right at the base. It was no matter, I thought, and a small price to pay for the marvels I had wrought. Besides, I was sure it would was merely a passing side effect.

Returning to America, I immediately prepared my gallery. I included some minor pieces, but the focus was on my newest work.

When people began to arrive, i could tell they had never seen such magnificence, especially from me. While all made the necessary approving noises at my older paintings, all knew the centre of attention was on what the violet draught had produced. That day I was contacted by a New York art collector who had chanced upon my gallery while passing through. He wished to showcase my work in his own gallery, and put it up for auction.

I was ecstatic. Finally my work was getting the renown I knew it deserved. The gallery was exquisite, the art scene of New York all interrogating me about my inspiration, my technique, who I had studied, everything one could think to ask a budding artist. The Violet Draught I kept to myself, knowing many of them would not understand. It was merely a tool, I thought. The painting sold for ten thousand dollars.

That night I once again drank deep of the violet draught. Again I heard the sounds around me first this time the pitter patter of rain against dirt, and again I heard what sounded like the sound of more than one great snakes moving its bulk across the floor. It seemed slightly louder now, but again I paid it no mind. Once again I closed my eyes to allow the violet draught to transport me, and when I opened my eyes I was in the middle of a massive plain of grey dirt, spotted with bright yellow bushes. It was raining, green water flowing from the sky, but the water did not touch me, nor damage my easel. The purple sun was still high in the sky as before, seemingly not dampened by the rain around me. Black mountains lay far ahead of me, stretching up into the sky. Once again I could not hear or see any sign of life.

Once again, I painted till exhaustion, and once again I awoke from a deep dreamless slumber. My fingers and teeth were sore once more, and my hair seemed slightly off colour. But none of that mattered.

I sold this painting for even more. The elite of the American art scene began to take notice, and I rose quickly in circles of the upper class. I began to be regarded as a visionary as I drank more and painted more. Each was of a different vibrant landscape, each I was transported to after imbibing the purple draught. In the landscapes, the sound of the snakes became louder and louder, too loud too ignore. With the noise of slithering I once thought I heard voices, but I assumed it was nothing. Many hallucinogens have such affects, after all.

I had to wear gloves, as my fingernails turned purple, and became brittle. Soon they flaked off, but this was no matter, as once they crumbled away my fingers ceased to hurt. I stopped smiling, as my teeth had become dark purple, and no amount of brushing would get rid of the colour. After biting into a particularly tough steak, I felt a dull pain, and spat out the remains of three teeth. Upon the table they already began to crumble into purple dust. I began to only eat soup. My hair I shaved to hide the fact that it had turned purple and became so brittle it would snap off even attempting to brush it.

But all of this only added to my mystique, and I revelled in the attention. I was an eccentric artist, a step above the rest of humanity. Some hair, teeth and nails were nothing compared to my fame, and to the beauty that I had created. I ignored the many side effects, for I knew I could not go back to the life I had lead before. I had tasted greatness.

That is, until I awakened one morning to realize the bottle was empty. I had drunk all of the violet draught throughout the years, never thinking of checking when I was running low until it was too late. Even this did not sway me, in the beginning. The talent had been in me the entire time, had it not? The violet draught had only been needed to unlock it, but surely now I could create such marvels without it. I soon learned this was not the case. All I painted were pale reflections compared to what I had once made. The talent was gone with the draught, I realized, as I tore another painting apart, and collapsed weeping onto the floor.

The art world soon grew bored with me, passing me off for the next up and coming artist, I could not bear my lack of notoriety, so returned to Cairo to seek the man who had first sold me the violet draught. However, his shop was gone, replaced by a souvenir shop that sold nothing of which the mystical back room had contained. In desperation, i sent out servants, promising them riches if they could find me more. All were unsuccessful.

Until one early morning, when I head a knock on the door of my mansion. At my doorstep was the man who had sold me the bottle years ago, and he looked unchanged. He smiled upon seeing me, and took from behind his back a bottle of the violet draught. I promised him anything, but the waved away my offers, saying that beauty had no price. I fell on my knees thanking him, but he merely smiled, and handed my the bottle.

I soon fell back into the routine of drinking and painting. Soon however, the presentation of my work fell to my servants, as I became a recluse due to my physical appearance. It began to be much for some of my own servants to bear, even wrapped up in a robe as I was. My veins were violet, and all the hair on my body had turned purple. and brittle. I no longer had any teeth, all of them having turned to purple ash in my mouth. My skin had become fragile as well and any force would cause it to crack and peel, revealing dark grey-purple muscle. But this would not stop me. For months I painted under the influence of the Draught, the Englishman miraculously showing up whenever the previous bottle was depleted, to deliver to me the next dose of hell. My servants grew to recognize him, and would send him directly to my bed chambers whenever he arrived. I tried to walk as little as possible, my bones felt fragile, like anything would shatter them.

I could hear the sounds of the slithering more and more when I took the draught. I was wrong before, now I could tell it did not sound like snakes, but many great tentacles, all moving about each other. In the background I could also hear chanting, constant uninterrupted chanting in a language I did not understand. I could barely hear the originally pleasant sounds of the landscape for the endless wet sound of crawling tentacles. But still, I could see no signs of life, least of all some great many-tentacled beast. Occasionally I thought I could see strange flickers of movement off in the distance, but when I looked back there was nothing. The landscapes themselves also changed, the once-verdant lands seeming to become more sickly, and lifeless. Where once there were great forests, now the ground was littered with dead and dying trees. Plains of swaying grasses were now the dead refuse of plant life.

One morning, I was awoken from my slumber by a dull pain in my left eye. I ran to the bathroom clutching my face, but when I brought my hand away it was covered in the remains of my eyeball. It had fallen apart in my skull, and I could see inside there was no more white, just purple ash that had once been my eye.

I resolved to stop drinking the purple draught that day, to save whatever small part was left of my immortal soul, and of my physical form. I lasted all of one day, when I realized I could still hear the accursed sound of the many tentacled thing, closer and closer. The chanting was louder too, endless repetitive voices chanting one phrase in some alien tongue. The tentacles of whatever it was seemed so close now, and I was sure I would be grasped and devoured by whatever beast they belonged, but I could not see them. I could not stop drinking the purple draught, I understood in that moment, I had to keep painting, for it was the only thing I still derived some feeling from.

This brings us the end of my tale, and to my last painting. Thankfully, the only thing left relatively untouched is my right hand, so I can still paint and write this wretched account. I am almost all gone now, my skin long since peeled off revealing the purple muscle underneath. I no longer feel pain, and on one curious day I broke a finger on my left hand as easily as one would break a twig. Inside of the bone was more of the purple dust, marrow or other interior long since crumbled away. My other eye went the way of the first, but that is no matter. The Purple Draught has ensured I no longer need eyes to see the plantless and desolate landscapes I paint. It has taken care of my ears too, crumbled away long away, but I can always hear the sound of the creature and of the chanting. I feel like I could touch the tentacles now, and the chanting is almost deafening. Worst of all, whatever owns those tentacles has begun to speak to me, on sleepless nights it has told so many secrets of the world, and of its strange other land. It is the creatures world I intruded upon, and from It the purple draught comes. I was an interloper, but I will not be much longer. I will drink deep once more, and I will paint, and then it will claim me. I will finally see It, and thank God I will. All I wish now is for silence, and peace from the purple draught. Finally, that vast purple monstrosity will reveal itself, and claim my wretched soul for whatever violet hell it spawned from.

So ends my sad story, and a message to all who read this. Stay away from the Purple Draught, for the wonders you will see are not worth the price it exacts.

[oasisofcalm]

Planting the Seed

If there was something Delilah didn’t need, it was bumping into her Father in the lobby of the hotel she was staying at in New York. She’d barely had any sleep, a combination of being too excited to sleep after another great night out with her friends and then her conversation with Stephanie that resulted in her asking Alvin to check on the woman. Having heard from neither of them, it didn’t really calm her any.

Delilah Jones wasn’t a naive woman, but she was incredible confident in her relationship. There was just something there that she didn’t understand nor could she put her finger on, but it ate away at her and after yet another round of arguing with Alvin over it and him not listening to her again she’d turned her girls’ night out into a weekend. 

it was her father’s distinctive laugh that she heard as she walked away from the check in desk, her heels scurried a little faster on the marble floor, knowing she only had about 30 feet to go until the bustle around the doorway would swallow her and allow her to pass into the crowded streets.

“Deedee?” no such luck. She knew she could have kept walking, there was no way of him actually knowing it was her, not from the angle she was standing at. It could have been that stupid actress she always gets teased about looking like. Delilah, however, stopped and plastered a smile on her face, turning around so she was face on with her father. 

“Dad, Hi.” She smiled and stepped closer, the hug that ensued was awkward as was the round of handshakes and introductions with the men around him. The small crowd dispersed, leaving her standing with her father and an awkward silence, which led to an awkward invitation and acceptance to brunch and awkward small talk in the restaurant. Clearly there was something her father wanted to say, but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. 

“What is it?” She eventually asked, years of living with him and then working for Vince chipping away at her willingness to be subtle. 

“I’m nearing 70, DeeDee.” He father began, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “You need to come home.” 

Delilah, who was mid drink, almost choked, but managed to recover enough to glare at him across the table, letting him know he had to finish that thought with solid logic. 

“I need someone to take over the business. You need to be back on our scene, in our city. Its been too long since you, Bianca and Will came around.” He told her, “That was always the plan. You were pre-law.  You took your LSATs. You dropped out of that plan to have a kid and work in a mail room then be someone’s coffee-maker. You’re brighter than that.” He stated, pointing his fork at her. 

He made to speak again until she raised a hand, signalling him to stop. “First of all, I never agreed to your plan, your social circle or to become any part of your buisness. I was keeping my options open if my major didn’t work out job wise I could further it. That kid I dropped out to have is, or at least was.” She swallowed, feeling the rage in her veins and knowing she was taking the weekend’s frustration out on her father. “I’m a personal assistant to the CEO and Owner of a multi-billion dollar company. I effectively help him run the damn thing. He stopped asking me to make him coffee years ago because we both know I can’t make a decent cup for shit.” She couldn’t help the juvenile smirk at her father’s shocked expression at the fact she swore. “And Will and I aren’t together anymore, going on four years now. He’s engaged to someone else and I’m in another relationship.” 

“Your mother told me about that, I thought it was just a phase.”

“No, it’s not.”

“He’s a lawyer, maybe he can talk some sense into you.” 

“He’s definfitely a lawyer.” 

“Well then, it’s settled, I’ll speak to your young man on the phone, see if he’s free for lunch.” 

“He’s not.”

“You can’t speak for him.” 

“And you can’t speak for me. I’m not coming back to Boston, I’m not running your law firm and neither is Alvin.” 

“What’s he like, this Alvin fellow?”

“Pretty much like you, actually. Nothing like Will.” 

“So you made the comparison with Will?” Her father smirked and Delilah threw her head back on a laugh. 

“Yeah, I did,” She told him, leaning forward on her arms as though sharing a secret. “Will would have done anything you asked him, too eager to please. He treated me like I was fragile, like the ground I walked on was sacred and that his world began and ended with Bianca and I. He always listened to every word I said, talked things over, was beyond romantic and enjoyed nothing more than a night in with some wine and movie. There was no fire, no flames.” She paused, leaning back to let the waiter remove her plate before she leaned in again. “Alvin is the opposite, he knows I’m not fragile and I could ruin both him and his career without breaking a sweat, he doesn’t worship the ground I walk on and he and I have very separate lives. He’s stubborn and obnoxious, keeps secrets, rarely listens and every conversation about something I don’t like turns into an argument. He sulks, he’s determined and when he wants to try he can be romantic. But there is fire, there is flames and it’ll either be the greatest love story ever told or it’ll burn us both to ground.”

She stood, then, grabbing her coat and pulling it on, her father staring at her open mouthed, a mixture of shock and awe on his face. 

“I don’t need to justify nor defend my decisions to you, or mom. The fact that you’re not listening to my thoughts and my wishes and my decisions isn’t new and isn’t going to get me home any faster. What I want, need and feel are valid. Regardless of what you think I should be saying or doing or feeling.” She told him, fastening her coat and then fixing her scarf, quite aware she had drawn a crowd.

“Are you talking to me or Alvin?” He father asked, his gaze on hers, a smirk on his lips. 

“Honestly? I don’t know.” Delilah’s voice never once faltered. 

“You would have been great in court, had you bothered to pay attention. You could have nailed me to the wall.” Jonathan Jones pressed his daughter, as she gathered her purse and bag, only to be met with a smirk. 

“I could have. I could have brought all of your indescretions into this argument. I could have said the only differences between you an he were skin color and the fact you have a whole host of women and I probably have half siblings out there, but I chose not to. See, it’s not about shock and awe in this, dad. It’s about choices. I know and you know what i’m about to do next, I’ve made my intentions clear to you and this entire room. Yet you’re sitting there, still eating.” 

She lifted her overnight bag and smiled at her father, “The easiest and cleanest way to win against you is to fight fair, not dirty. You would have dragged the past and the skeletons into the light because that’s what you do. I don’t need to. I’m the only thing you lost that you can’t buy back or fight dirty to claim and it makes you so mad. Enjoy your brunch, I hope the case goes well. If you’re ever in the area look me up.” Delilah nodded, turning on her heel and walking away, just as she had done on Friday from the office, from Alvin. 

Only this time, the seed had been planted. Did she want the life her mother led or was she going to carve out her own?

[artificialqueens]

Castle On The Hill (2/3) - Trixya - Silver

A/N: hey! I just wanted to say thank you guys so much for all of the lovely feed back on the first part of this, it’s really appreciated. Here’s part 2, I hope you enjoy!:)

Seventeen came as a welcome change and eighteen felt like an accomplishment.

Nineteen was too far away.

A long night working until the early hours of the morning in some sketchy corner shop that he had no interest in at all had Katya collapsing on his couch as soon as he arrived home.

Outside, it was raining. The fact that it was the middle of summer being completely disregarded by the clouds that had been releasing heavy droplets of water relentlessly for the past couple of days.

Pelting against the roof of his house, Katya acknowledged that the sound of rain was meant to make him feel relaxed. Only it did the exact opposite. To him, the outdoors was where he felt most at ease - his safe haven of sorts.

With his parents sleeping soundly upstairs and his brothers probably either sleeping or playing video games in their own worlds, he dragged himself to his kitchen and began making a cup of hot coffee.

His contemplation continued as he picked up his phone that had long been out of battery. Sparking to life as it connected with the charger, Katya made sure to check for any texts or messages he had missed.

Nothing.

He sighed, putting his phone down once again, and instead turned to look out of the window of his kitchen.

It was different these days.

The sun no longer seemed to rise and set over the small town like it once had, and the seasons all looked like they had blended in to one continuous period of discontent. The sky appeared darker and the stars never glimmered as bright, while the trees and flowers had lost some, if not most, of their vibrancy.

His garden looked empty too. Even though it was filled with childhood memories and miscellaneous garden ornaments, and features that characterised the once adored outdoor family space - it had undeniably changed.

Katya had come to the conclusion that people lie.

They lie when they tell you that change is for the better and they lie even more when they tell you that they haven’t changed; they’ve instead progressed or developed.

If things changed for the better then why did he feel outcasted in his home town. Eighteen years of familiarity and then a sense of distain towards everything that reminded him of anything.

Driving past his old school made him nostalgic for the days he’d spend with his friends acting like the children they were; like the free spirits they were.

Walking through the woods down the road from his house didn’t quell his thoughts, either. Instead it threw gallons of gasoline on the burning flame that was his subconscious.

It was summer - he had to keep reminding himself. With no plans yet as to what he was going to do if he didn’t decide to go to college in the fall, he had to have a back up plan of sorts.

Yet - nothing.

Most other people he knew had plans. They’d had plans for months - years, even.

He knew Trixie was planning on travelling and -

He hadn’t spoken to Trixie in weeks.

When he wasn’t sleeping, he was working, and when he wasn’t working, he was busy thinking of excuses as to why he was busy and sorry Trix I can’t today, I have to help my mom out.

It was a case of I don’t want to have to acknowledge the fact that Trixie won’t be around the corner from me forever. Trixie won’t be able to come over just to kiss me when I’m feeling anxious at four in the morning forever.

They wouldn’t be able to continue like they always had known forever.

His phone vibrated.

What he expected to be a text from either one of his brothers upstairs telling him to be quiet, I’m trying to sleep, or Kurtis or Matt asking him to meet up the next day - turned out to be from Trixie. The saying speak of the devil springs to mind for a moment, though Trixie is no devil.

Angel.

Trixie: It’s been two weeks and I miss my hooker. Can we please meet up some time soon? I feel like you’re avoiding me :( xo

Katya read the message but didn’t respond.

With the rain falling harder against the roof and the window in front of him, he picked out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

Two steps across the kitchen floor took him to the back door, which he opened - feeling the gales of wind and drops of rain hit him as forceful as the realisation that he couldn’t ignore Trixie for much longer.

He put out the cigarette after only a small number of inhalations by throwing it in to a nearby plant pot, watching the rain instantly diminish the burning end.

He picked his phone up once again.

Trixie: Can I call you?

Trixie: I’m calling you The ringtone he’d set specifically for Trixie began to echo throughout the room, a strange symphony of chimes and synthesisers.

A phone line away, Trixie’s only wish was that Katya would answer his call.

He missed Katya. He missed Brian.

Just pick up, you whore.

“Hello?”.

Trixie’s heart beat more intensely than the rain that hit her roof, too.

“Hi”. Voice quiet and nerves shaky.

It’s Katya god damn it, get your shit together, girl. “So-”.

“Have I done something wrong?”. Trixie questioned, sinking back in to the comfort of his blanketed bed.

Katya paused. A few streets down, he slumped against one of his kitchen surfaces.

“Katya?”. Persisted Trixie when he heard no response.

“You haven’t done anything”.

Then why have you spent more effort on ignoring me than anything you’ve ever done in your life, Trixie mused bitterly to himself.

“Then what’s the problem Bri?”.

Real name.

A small edge of vulnerability.

“Just life, I guess”. Katya knew it was a weak answer, an excuse of answer, yet he said it regardlessly. Trixie’s tone hadn’t softened when he answered.

“That’s a bullshit answer if I’ve ever heard one”.

The phone line was quiet. White noise filling the chaotically empty space between them.

“Just - please can we meet up? Kurtis, Matt, Danny, Roy and I are meeting up by the castle tomorrow at four-ish. It’s suppose to stop raining tonight”. Trixie’s words trailed off in to nothingness, blowing through the gales outside and getting destroyed in the process.

“I don’t know, Trixie. Summer’s almost over and-”.

“Please”.

Lightening struck somewhere in the distance, and Katya nodded, albeit to himself.

“Alright, ok, I’ll come, but please just - let’s get on with things. I’m sorry I’ve been such an awful friend lately”.

Sighing, Trixie rolled over on to his side, burying his face in to the nearest pillow whilst he listened to Katya’s laboured breathing through the phone.

Trixie decided that people lie after Katya had finished speaking. They lie when they say words will never hurt you and that sticks and stones do more damage. They lied when they told Trixie at six years old that nothing would ever hurt more than when he broke his leg in three places.

It used to be best friends, at one point it was you’re my everything, and then it was degraded to friends.

Trixie felt juvenile. He felt stupid.

“I’ll see you tomorrow”. He mumbled, words muffled by the pillow he still laid upon before he pressed end call on his phone screen.

Friends.

*****

Trixie had been right when he’d said it would stop raining the next morning.

When Katya awoke to the sun dancing leisurely around his living room, back aching from having fallen asleep on his couch, his eyes followed the illuminated specs of dust flying around the room for a long while.

A note left on the coffee table in the middle of the room told him that his brothers would be out until the night and his mother and farther would be working late shifts at work too. Nothing new.

Nothing new at all, initially.

Nothing new until it was four in the afternoon and he was walking up the familiar hill that I swear I could walk up blindfolded, in my sleep, while black out drunk. The river still ran rivetingly over the rocks and around the bends of the hill, and the grass still held it’s comforting scent that couldn’t be described as anything apart from home.

The oak tree.

The tree that had been centre point for so many things in his life.

From childhood play dates to family picnics. From social gatherings with friends in middle school to where he got high for the first time with Trixie. Where he had his first kiss with Trixie.

The natural grand sculpture that once stood proudly now lay broken on its side. Trunk snapped and branches scattered around the area, with the green leaves dying to look autumnal, Katya doubted he had ever been so - upset - by something that seemed so inferior to every other issue.

The group of friends that he was meeting were sat on the collapsed trunk, chatting aimlessly about something that Katya had no real interest in.

“What happened?”. He forwent greetings in lieu of questioning.

They offered shrugs in return. Trixie included.

Silence.

“My mom said it fell down during the storm last night”. The other Brian spoke.

The shorter boy nodded, walking to closer to Trixie, and making sure everybody else was busy before he placed his hand tentatively on Trixie’s that held a yellowing leaf.

“Can we go somewhere?”. Subtlety was never Katya’s forte.

Only a nod in response.

It took less than ten minutes. Ten minutes until they were sat on a short wall of the once fairytale-like castle on top of the hill - that now stood in ruins.

Around them was bleak. Though the sun still shon brightly, it didn’t reflect off of the water cascading through the river. The grass was green yet it looked dim in comparison to summers in years previously.

“I’ve missed you too”. Referring back to Trixie’s initial message the day before, Katya turned to make eye contact with the younger boy.

Wearily smiling, Trixie shuffled around so that he sat cross legged on the wall, facing Katya.

“Doesn’t feel like it”.

Katya reminded himself that Trixie had every right to be blunt and bitter with him - even if Trixie hadn’t shared the fact that he was leaving within the next couple of weeks to travel the world.

“Kurtis told me you were leaving in a few weeks to-”.

Katya didn’t continue. Instead he looked out to the town which could be seen clearly from their position high above everybody. Familiarity, normality, home.

Katya didn’t want to find out how much of that would change without Trixie’s presence.

“Bri - I swear I was going to tell you and I-”.

Katya shook his head, taking ahold of Trixie’s hand that had been mid air performing some kind of gesture.

He’d never not be supportive of Trixie. He couldn’t not be supportive of him.

“I’m happy for you, you idiot. Of course I’m happy - you deserve fucking everything that this shitty world had to offer-”.

Trixie cut Katya off unintentionally, yet he wholeheartedly had to.

“Then why have you been-”.

“I don’t want you to leave”.

A pause. A glance back at winter when any lake or pond or river would freeze over in an instance if the temperature dropped too low.

“I know it’s stupid, and it’s so selfish, but god damn it I-”.

Trixie was the optimist these days. The dreamer and the illusionist. His fantasy ran mind and idealistic view of the world sometimes had Katya confused and bewildered.

“Come with me, then”.

Katya didn’t contemplate the idea for a second. Shaking his head and letting go of Trixie’s warm hand, he let his shoulders drop.

“I can’t”. He paused.

“This is my home, Trixie, I can’t just-”. Trixie nodded, accepting Katya’s reasoning far easier and quicker than Katya thought he would.

“I get it”. Trixie smiled, nudging Katya’s side with his elbow and making the slightly taller boy chuckle.

“There’s so many memories here”. Trixie began, mind drifting away to his whole life that he’d spent in the town, allowing himself to recall all of the forever memorable events that had taken place there.

Katya smilled. Agreement.

“But I need to get out there-”. Trixie reinforced, Katya’s eyes beginning to fill with unwelcome tears. They fell when Trixie calmed Katya’s worries from the day previously.

“- and don’t think for a second that I’ll forget about you, god damn it. Even if all I am to you is a friend, you’ll always by my Katya, my Brian. My crazy Russian, bisexual transvestite hooker”.

Katya began laughing. Actually laughing.

“I didn’t mean it when I said friend last night, you know that, right?”. Katya felt as if he was treading gentle upon a thing layer of ice on top of a frozen lake that could crack at any moment.

“You and I, we’d never be able to just be friends”.

Trixie nodded, fully aware of his own feelings and emotions, and aware of Katya’s enough to be able to draw a line under their conversation. The bag that still sat at his feet reminded him of one specific memory when Katya rest his head upon his shoulder.

A bottle of vodka was pulled from Trixie’s bag minutes later.

“What are you-”.

“Remember that time we got stoned for the first time? I thought it’d be fun to throw a little homage, if you will, to that night. I know it’s only cheap alcohol ‘cause let’s be honest working in a sandwich shop doesn’t pay that well but-”.

Katya grinned, almost yanking the heavy bottle out of Trixie’s hands, and cracking it open before Trixie barely had time to blink.

“You’re my favourite person”. A delicate kiss to Trixie’s cheek made the younger of the two blush.

A smile that was shared between the two defrosted the apparent ice and melted it away to reveal the summer that was present beneath.

Lost in a hazy field of daisies and mythical creatures, surrounded by high castle walls that they’d painted themselves with colourful water from the sparkling river, they let themselves go.

Trixie would have been lying if he had said he thought he’d ever find anywhere that felt more like home than this.

*****

Two weeks later saw them at the train station.

Katya had pulled Trixie in to a tight embrace, not willing to face the reality of Trixie leaving for who knows how long. Maybe it would be a year or maybe it would be ten.

The unknown was a scary thing, they’d both decided individually.

“Please don’t go yet”. It was all but whimpered as it left Katya’s lips.

Trixie pulled away regardless, but pressed a soft, loving kiss to Katya’s supple lips in the process.

“Don’t worry, Bri. I’ll be back in a little while”.

[foodieworldmelbourne]

Education: Play catch-up on funds for state school students

Today in Australia private schools, mainly faith-based, spend five times more on capital projects a year than is spent on state schools. Much of this money comes from the federal budget. Why should the taxpayer fund Olympic-sized swimming pools, even hyperbaric chambers, for private school students? What has happened to "a fair go for all"? We need a government that changes the funding criteria and puts the educational needs of state school pupils first. A good education for all children must be a basic right and at the same level of excellence with access to the same facilities to generate learning. Politicians need to consider the meaning of a "secular society" and stop giving in to religious pressure groups. Meg Paul, Camberwell Testing system failing to make the grade Belinda Robinson makes a case for NAPLAN's usefulness to "parents, teachers, principals and education systems" ("NAPLAN the equivalent of weighing the baby", Comment, 13/5). As an educator, I have grave concerns over how NAPLAN has been used by private schools as a commercial tool to raise their marketability. School results are published on the Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority's My School website: an easy comparison tool that overlooks individual achievement. I've seen schools coach students in NAPLAN to raise these scores, despite being instructed not to. The My School website is the worst part of a broken standardised testing system: NAPLAN should be for parents, teachers and students, not for school marketing teams. David Owen, Northcote Schools should come clean on NAPLAN Children have become the distraught, innocent pawns in a dishonest NAPLAN scenario. That they should be made to feel anxious about NAPLAN is outrageous. Students should take comfort in the knowledge that the test has little to do with them. The test is not an educational tool it is a "political" one. Our students are being "conned' into believing that the test reflects on them it doesn't. The test is really about the teacher's performance (if truth be known and the school). As far as "performance" is concerned, it is all about securing enrolments and falsely elevating the status of your school. As a former principal, I can assure parents that NAPLAN results have nothing to do with your child's assessment for the year and results are of no concern to prospective employers (your teacher for the next year couldn't even care less). In an age when our students are experiencing significant anxiety, it is time for schools to be upfront and honest with their students. Noel Butterfield, Montmorency FORUMPerformance check We need an independent report before each election on the government's response to the recommendations of royal commissions held during its term in office. The parliamentary research service could prepare the report for release when an election is called. This would serve a non-partisan role like the budget office, to help voters judge a government's performance. Royal commissions typically arise when innocent people suffer from a systemic abuse of legal or moral rights. The report would help electors judge whether the government treats all citizens with equal concern and respect, which is different from its ability to manage the economy. We need to keep in mind the pressure on parties to neglect this duty and favour groups whose support is needed to win power, to do so when the risk is most relevant, and in a way likely to attract media and public attention. This will also help counter the practice whereby huge sums are spent on TV ads in the final campaign weeks, when debates become ugly and risk the divisive politics which have done so much damage in the US. It will remind us of our common values, and the need to respect them when pursuing political power. Max Atkinson, South Hobart, Tas Pork barrelling at its worst Democracy is broken when two highly paid men can run around selected areas of this country spending other people's money to buy their jobs ("The cash coast", 15/5). It would be nice to participate in this election, but our electorate is a safe bet for the incumbent, so our money is used to the benefit of others in a bid to grab votes. If there is any injustice at all in the removal of the payment of franking dividends, it is dwarfed by the widespread acceptance of the ongoing and long-term theft that is pork-barrelling. A journey on the Princes Highway from Geelong to Colac (through the marginal electorate of Corangamite) is a stark contrast to the journey on the same road from Colac to Warrnambool in the safe electorate of Wannon. Gary Sayer,Warrnambool Shameless use of our funds Pork barrelling has been with us for decades, but that doesn't mean we should shrug our collective shoulders and accept this flagrant waste of our precious taxpayer dollars. Both sides claim they are/will be prudent economic managers, but their actions speak far louder than their hollow words. Our taxes should be directed to those most in need or to projects that will give society the best return on investment. Instead, we see marginal seats prioritised in order to support shameless politicians to get elected. What a disgrace, and they wonder why we despise the lot of them. Stuart Chapman, Plenty Sort them out In their desire to be seen as good "blokes and sheilas", Australians often even-handedly damn all politicians as being alike. This election has confirmed they are not. There are indeed some appalling ones. But there are also many impressive, dedicated, hard-working people passionate about improving the lot of their fellow citizenry. So when we damn them all for the egregiousness and anomie of some, we provide no incentive to the great majority to keep doing their fine work. We also absolve ourselves of the need to take seriously this most important dimension of our social beings. Then indeed we deserve to be treated like sheep. Ramesh Rajan, Canterbury Nuclear nightmare When Clive Palmer spruiks nuclear power as low-cost, no emissions and lowering the cost of living, he ignores the reality. Ageing power plants in the US are closing as they can't compete financially. Nuclear plants are horrendously expensive to build and usually have cost blow-outs and massive delays just ask the French. And when they do get built they need huge government subsidies, as for Hinkley Point in the UK. As to emissions, a recent Climate Council report found them equivalent to gas, once uranium mining and other essentials are considered. They also produce highly radioactive waste that remains toxic for more than 10,000 years. Fukushima anyone? Finally, they are clearly linked with nuclear weapons so much so that in the US power companies are leveraging this argument to get further massive subsidies. Tell him he's dreaming. Dr Margaret Beavis, Medical Association for Prevention of War, Carlton Add-ons galore Nice one, Clive. But wait there's more! Free with every nuclear power plant comes an outback radioactive waste dump! Just think of the royalty crumbs from accepting the planet's radioactive waste. We'll even throw in a new physics faculty. And best of all, you can leave it for your great great-grandchildren to decontaminate Australia. Ronald Elliott, Sandringham Leave in experts hands There's a lot of misunderstanding over statements that renewables yield the cheapest electricity. There's no doubt they can when the sun shines and the wind blows but not at other times. So it's about time we restrict discussion to "reliable electricity", the stuff we, our hospitals, our jobs growth and the health of our economy need for us to hold our own in the world. Then we'll discover we can manage using an amount of unreliable renewables to lower our emissions but there is a limit, and it is this limit which should be central to scientific analysis. What about leaving this matter to engineers for our primary advice the people charged with designing, building and operating our electricity supply systems. Just as we do when it comes to medical matters. Gordon Thurlow, Launceston, Tas Forever lost "From promised land to wasteland" (13/5) alerts us to the demise of grassland habitat. For 12 years, I have travelled through the western grasslands between the You Yangs and Bacchus Marsh to the Brisbane Ranges. Although anecdotal, I have observed a number of changes. The rapid decline in native birds coincides with the Indian myna creeping kilometre by kilometre past the You Yangs. Two years ago, the mating wedge-tailed eagles and two juveniles had circled the head waters of Little River. This year, a flock of 35 sulphur-crested cockatoos had one juvenile. Families of birds are growing older, with too few juveniles to make up the numbers. At night, there are fewer frogs and small marsupials. The observable decline in native fauna and flora west of Melbourne is due to many factors of rapid urbanisation, hoofed "pets" on small blocks, industrialised agriculture in controlled environments and drought. The neglect and over stocking of native grasslands has led to uncontrolled serrated tussock, cape weed, thistles and gorse. The effects are now noticeable in the Brisbane Ranges, north of Anakie and south of Ballan. The diversity and numbers of native bees are down. There were no clouds of butterflies, no gatherings of moths, no dragonflies. The grasslands are a biological engine at the bottom of the food chain. The urban invasion of grasslands is becoming an irredeemable loss. Jane Renshaw, Parkville A low point Why is Victoria designing and setting a trap for high vehicles? Surely the road under the Montague Street bridge can be lowered. Why, at least, cannot we have a string of bells overhead for the vehicles to strike as a warning. How stupid, costly, inconvenient and dangerous it is to leave it as it is. Lance Ross, Kooyong Failing to kick goals I was disappointed, but not surprised, that AFL chiefs would be previewing the coming Adam Goodes documentary The Final Quarter ("Goodes preview for AFL chiefs", 14/5). The AFL seems to view the over-representation of Indigenous Australian players in the league as a sign of reconciliation. In 2015, Goodes brought to light an uncomfortable fact; that the AFL is not the progressive organisation that it believes itself to be. AFL chiefs went into defence mode, hastily mopping up the mess, rather than treating Indigenous players' experiences seriously and with respect by listening and learning from them. By calling a preview screening, the AFL readies itself for war, showing that nothing has changed. I am almost certain that they will continue to do nothing to acknowledge how the league has failed its Indigenous players. The AFL is more than happy to embrace Indigenous players, if they become living embodiments of reconciliation. Goodes unapologetically deviated from this symbol. By dismissing his concerns regarding racism and treating the new documentary as "controversial", the AFL sends a message. It is that people of colour, simply by vocalising their experiences, are over-reacting that they are the villains in the story. Yuki Horne-Okano, Eltham Odds stacked against them With VCAT's rejection of Darebin Council's opposition to an increase of 15 pokie machines at the Darebin RSL, we see yet again how difficult it is for local communities to resist the spread of misnamed "recreational" practices known to be harmful to individual and community well-being ("Council takes pokies fight to court", 15/5). Darebin had a strong public health case behind their decision to reject more pokie machines in their community. Pokies gambling occurs on an industrial scale in this state. Gambling harm costs Victoria $7billion a year. Of the $82 million poured into Darebin's pokie machines last year, almost $33million came from compulsive gamblers according to most recent and publicly available research. Costs include family breakdown, hungry and disadvantaged children, widespread physical and mental health issues, lost personal and community opportunities and, finally, suicides at least one a day. The arguments of the Victorian government and compromised community groups don't stack up. Kudos to Darebin Council for taking this decision to a higher court. You are speaking for many who don't have a voice. Kate Sommerville, Richmond Something fishy I feel for the kissing partners of the CBD journos who "wait with baited breath" for news of Julie Bishop (14/5). The Shakespearean phrase "bated breath" invokes the suspense and trepidation I suspect they were going for. Robert Lang, Toorak AND ANOTHER THING...The election Is John Howard running for office again? Why has he appeared in the media more often than most of Scott Morrison's ministers? Dean Wotherspoon, Northcote I'm old enough to remember the Yellow Pages (phone book). Seems old-man Clive is bringing them back. Myra Fisher, Brighton East I can go one better, Ron Hayton (Letters, 15/5). I used Clive's full-page ads to line my cat's litter tray. Rick Luther, Carnegie Well may we say "there will never be another Christopher Pyne" (15/5). And good riddance. A moderate who stood for nothing and fell for almost anything. Kevin Russell, Geelong Bit rich of Scott Morrison to proclaim that politics and religion should be not be mixed in this election when he let the cameras into his church. Rod Oaten, North Carlton If you disagree with me, you are guilty of hate speech. So sick of this undemocratic and unhealthy tide of opinion. Ian Mitchell, Rowville Maybe it's time to determine this matter of who is destined for Hell through our traditional Australian fallback process ... a royal commission. Barry Lamb, Heidelberg West Farewell, Doris Day, after a long life leaving memories for millions of us. Hello election day: "que sera, sera" indeed. Jenifer Nicholls, Armadale Roll on election day the mute button on the remote is wearing out. Vikki O'Neill, Ashburton Elsewhere All the chooks I've ever raised paced up and down noisily when they saw me in the mornings eager to leave their coop and range free during the day ("Do chickens like being free-range?", 15/5). Jan Kendall, Hawthorn Hooray for Angela Pippos ("It's no joke to muck up migrant names", Comment, 17/5). I have been called Lu-cresh-a, Lu-cray-sha, Lu-crotch-a, Lucia and just plain Lu all my life. Lucrezia Mecca, Brighton Most Viewed in National Loading https://www.theage.com.au/national/education-play-catchup-on-funds--for-state-school-students-20190515-h1efpb.html?ref=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_source=rss_feed