five-rivers

[five-rivers]

Take Me Higher chapter 2

Read on AO3

Part of Kingdoms of Fish

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“My—What?” asked Danny.  He flew up to perch next to Clockwork.  “What’s going on?  Why do you have wings?  Is this—It feels different from when I go into, you know, a space that does this.  A realm.  You know.”  The change felt more real, somehow.

“That is because it is,” said Clockwork.  He raised his left hand, revealing that he had brought Danny’s pack up with him. 

There was a sharp intake of breath in Danny’s ear.  “What was that?  Our cameras on the pack just jumped.” 

“Clockwork probably stopped time to grab you,” said Danny, distracted.  “It isn’t important.”  He leaned forward to grab Clockwork’s cloak.  Intentionally.  It wasn’t because his wings unbalanced him or anything like that.  “What happened?”

“Ghosts require a certain amount of energy and ectoplasm in order to maintain themselves,” said Clockwork.  “Those things are absorbed through a ghost’s surface.”  He paused significantly. 

“We know that,” said Dad, “so why is he saying it?”

“Something to do with the wings, most likely,” said Mom.  “Something about the low ectoplasm levels triggering them?  They would raise the surface area.”

“And…  The wings help with that,” said Danny, trying to keep track of all sides of the conversation.  “Because they increase surface area?  Is that why so many of the ghost animals here have wings?”

Clockwork nodded.  “They act as capture and filtering mechanisms.  Ghosts do not need them to fly, after all.”  He gestured with his own wings, spreading them and then pulling them in. 

“But—That—Why don’t ghosts grow them every time they go to Amity Park or something like that?  The ectoplasm is just as thin there.”

“Do you know what triggers the breathing reflex in humans?” asked Clockwork.

“It’s carbon dioxide concentration, isn’t it?” he said, quickly, before his parents could start shouting out the answer.  “So, you’re saying the wings are triggered by something else, other than ectoplasm?”

“Ectoplasm concentration is partially responsible,” admitted Clockwork, “but it is not the primary cause.  Your parents should have already started detecting some of the relevant particles and compounds, such as aether.  The Realms are not made entirely of ectoplasm, as you know.”

“We have detected something but—” Danny decided to focus on Clockwork. 

“Right,” said Danny, inhaling deeply.  His wings twitched as his chest rose and fell.  “Okay.  So.  Something about the environment up here makes ghosts grow wings, and that lets them absorb ectoplasm better.  To help with the low ectoplasm levels.  I guess that’s why so many of the animal ghosts are eating stuff, too?  There’s ectoplasm in the fruit and stuff.”  And in the other ghosts, too, but that felt like a weird thing to say out loud for some reason.

“That is correct.”

“And now I have wings too.  And that’s why I feel like I’m swimming in ectoplasm.  They’re absorbing more than I’m used to.”

“Also correct.”

“This is normal, then?  Normal for ghosts?” that was a bit of an oxymoron, but that was the best way to condense the questions that his parents were asking. 

“For the most part,” said Clockwork.

“So… not normal.”  Which wasn’t anything new but still made Danny’s shoulders slump.

Clockwork smiled gently, then sat down.  “Come, sit with me,” he said, patting the grassy ground next to him. 

Danny sat down.  With the wings, it was much more of a production than usual.  They still didn’t want to close.

“The environment here, being relatively low in easily-accessed ectoplasmic energy, resembles the ecosystems of the Earth much more than most other locations in the Infinite Realms,” said Clockwork.  “As a half ghost, you are actually well adapted to this environment.”

“Oh?”

“You require less ectoplasm and can get energy from other sources.  Your internal structures are already well-defined.  The way you move requires less ecto-energy.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“But such features, combined with your habitual residence in a low-ectoplasm environment, have added other idiosyncrasies to the process of adaptation.”

“Like what?”

“Most ghosts would have grown wings much lower,” said Clockwork, “at about the level where you first started noticing animal ghosts with additional wings, in fact.  Interestingly, more powerful ghosts tend to grow wings at lower levels than weaker ghosts.  Weaker ghosts tend to be smaller, with more surface area for their mass, and need less ectoplasm to function.  More powerful ghosts tend to be more sensitive to aether as well, for various reasons.”

“Is that why they felt like they came in so… suddenly?”

“Was it sudden?” asked Clockwork.  “If you think back, you may recall feeling the initial changes.”

“You did keep touching your shoulders,” reminded Mom.  “You said they itched, that you might have strained them.”

“Oh, right,” said Danny.  “I guess I did.”

“However, it is true that once your wings started growing, your body may have overcompensated.  Your wings are unusually large for someone of your power level and present elevation.”

“So, they’d get bigger if I went higher?”

“Yes.  Most ghosts would also start to develop other instincts, such as the desire to eat or sleep, to gain or conserve energy, but you already have those.”

“Okay…  What happens if I go back down?”  Even here, the ectoplasm felt uncomfortably thick. The thought of swimming through even thicker ectoplasm made his feathers itch.  Actually, his feathers itched anyway.  Most of them felt… out of position.  Ruffled.  Should he do something about that?  Could he do something about that?

“Normally,” said Clockwork.  “Ghosts who come up this far have been pushed out of lower, more energy-rich areas by stronger ghosts, or, in the case of more intelligent ghosts, to find more peaceful, more earthlike areas.”

That didn’t answer Danny’s question.  His parents noticed that, too, but Danny decided to wait. 

“Weaker, less complex ghosts, ones with less of a sense of self, are generally overwhelmed by the amount of ectoplasm they are absorbing and dissolve.  Their cores, if they survive, may eventually gather enough ectoplasm for them to reform.  It is different for more complex ghosts, those who can hold themselves together.”

“Different how?”

“It depends.  Some meet the same fate as the less complex ghosts, overwhelmed, especially if they fall too far, too fast.  Others face similar issues to the ones you had when you explored the depths.  Some adapt with radical physical changes.  Others are able to find ways to consume ectoplasm rapidly enough to keep their levels in balance.  There are those who are able to maintain their form, but they are rare.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  That was going to make things… difficult.  “So, the wings wouldn’t just… fold back into my back or something?”

“No,” said Clockwork.  “It would be more convenient if they did, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “But if I can’t go down safely, what am I going to do?  I can’t stay up here.”

Clockwork hummed.  “That is not entirely true.”

“Which part?”

Clockwork chuckled.  “Both,” he said, “but I was referring more to your assertion that you cannot go down safely.  There are ways.”

“Like what?”

“A few ghosts who know they are going to descend cut off their wings and use various methods to inhibit them from growing back.  I do not recommend that method, however, as it is rather painful and results are not consistent.  You could duplicate and send one of yourselves down while sending the other up – energy sharing would tend to average out your ectoplasm levels, but losing a duplicate would always be a risk.  You could learn shapeshifting – not all shapeshifters can shapeshift away wings, but some can.  You could test to see if your natural transformation could remove them, but then, of course, you would have to navigate back to your portal in human form.”

“We could come get you,” said Mom.  “We have your location.”

“Mom, no,” said Danny.  “You don’t have the Speeder rated for this altitude.” 

That was part of the reason Danny took so many trips out with sensors.  His parents needed to know what environments to prepare their equipment for.  Not to mention the dangers they could run into getting up this high.  He could probably fall down to an altitude closer to the portal, but gravity was weird in the Ghost Zone.  It was just as likely that he’d get stuck floating somewhere or go sideways.  And then, of course, there was the problem of stopping once he got going.  He wasn’t very good at flying in human form.  He couldn’t do it for very long. 

It could work.  It just wasn’t very likely that it’d work without some kind of major problem coming up. 

“Even if you did come, I’d still have the wings in ghost form.  I couldn’t go out into the Zone.  I’d be stuck in the house.”  Except for going out into Amity Park as Phantom, maybe, but he knew himself well enough to know that wouldn’t be sustainable psychologically speaking.

“There is another way,” said Clockwork.  “I could seal your wings, which would effectively make them vanish.  There are drawbacks, of course, but they are not as severe as with some of the other methods I mentioned.  It would also be faster than trying to learn how to shapeshift.”

“And that isn’t convenient at all,” said Maddie, quietly.  “Make sure you get details before you agree to anything.”

He was going to do that anyway.  “Drawbacks like what?” asked Danny, leaning forward.  He made a face as his wings moved oddly with him.  He tried to move them to sit better, rotating them like he’d rotate a stiff shoulder. 

“Other than rare circumstances under which the seal might break and expose you to other risks, you would not be able to come this high again,” said Clockwork.  “If you did, not only would the seal break, but your body would overcompensate to adapt, as it would not be able to feel your wings behind the seal.”

“Overcompensate how?” asked Danny. 

“By growing another set of wings,” said Clockwork.  “Then, of course, you would be forced to go even higher, because both sets of wings would be filtering ectoplasm for you.”

“And if I stayed I’d be overwhelmed, like if I went to a lower level,” said Danny. 

“Not quite as much,” said Clockwork, “there are diminishing returns for larger surface area, because ultimately there is only so much ectoplasm in a given volume, but yes.”

“And I guess you wouldn’t be able to seal them again?”

“It would be a one-time deal, I’m afraid.”

That wasn’t too bad.  Danny would just have to be careful to stay in the elevation band he could safely tolerate.  He didn’t care for being restricted like that, but there wasn’t much he could do.  It was better than being permanently stuck at home.

But…  He looked out over the landscape spreading out all around them.  He’d regret not getting to explore more of this.  It was beautiful up here, and Danny couldn’t help but be intrigued by Clockwork’s assertion that half ghosts were well-adapted to the area.

Maybe he could get his parents to make him something like a spacesuit, something that would keep out the wing-triggering particles.  It’d take a lot of work after all of this, though. 

Honestly, Danny sometimes felt like he was on a pendulum, as far as his parents’ permission went.  Sometimes, they’d be okay with him exploring all sorts of things, other times, usually after something unexpected had happened on one of his trips, but not always, they’d barely let him go to the Far Frozen.  It was frustrating, especially when he wasn’t able to leave the house to socialize as a human. 

“However, I do have a proposal for you,” said Clockwork. 

Danny looked back up at him.  “Other than the seal?”  His parents were arguing with each other about what Danny should do, but the argument didn’t sound all that important.    

“In addition to the seal,” said Clockwork.  “There are many Realms at this altitude that I think you would find interesting.  I would escort you to some of those Realms and guide you through them, to study the cultures, collect data, and otherwise explore, as you would like.”

Danny blinked at Clockwork, surprised.  “You’d give me a tour?”

“If you would like to think of it that way, yes.  Then, afterward, I would seal your wings.”

Despite his parents’ vocally expressed doubts, Danny couldn’t see a downside to that offer. 

“How—How long would that take?” asked Danny. 

“As long or as short as you would like,” said Clockwork.  “The length of time spent is immaterial.”

“It’d be really good for data collection,” said Danny, hopefully. 

“He hasn’t even said where he wants to take you,” said Mom.  “Don’t agree to anything.”

“I still need to agree to getting my wings sealed eventually, unless you want me to risk falling apart.”

“I don’t like relying on this ‘seal’ of his, but I guess he’s brought you home before,” said Dad, grudgingly.  “I’d still like it better if we came and got you.  You can learn shapeshifting at home!”

Danny didn’t understand why his parents didn’t like Clockwork.  He’d never been anything but helpful and friendly while they were around.  Remotely or physically. 

“You do not need to decide immediately, but may I offer to groom your wings while you think?”

“What?”

“Your feathers are rather ruffled,” said Clockwork, “and I do not believe your wings are entirely manifested.  It cannot be comfortable.  It is something that should be done regardless of if you choose to be sealed now or later.”

“Why?” demanded Mom. 

Danny repeated the question. 

“As I said, it cannot be comfortable.  Trying to seal your wings in this state would also be difficult.”

Clockwork’s tone told Danny it would be more than just difficult, but borderline impossible. 

“It will make more sense once you are properly groomed,” said Clockwork, apparently responding to Danny’s expression.

Usually, when Clockwork said something like that, he was right.  It was honestly more surprising that he hadn’t followed it up with a comment about Danny being fourteen (which, technically, he wasn’t, even if he looked that way).

His parents also had a lot to say about the lack of explanation.  Not that Danny could understand most of it.  He was starting to get a headache from the volume and trying to listen to the overlapping conversations, and, like when he was trying to talk on the phone and his parents were trying to talk to him, he defaulted to paying attention to the person he was physically with.

Even so, a few sentences came through.

“Danny, I don’t think this is a good idea.  If it’s really important, can’t you do it yourself?  I’m not comfortable with some stranger grooming you.”

“He’s not a stranger and it’s literal grooming,” said Danny, irritated.  “I don’t know anything about it, and unless I warp myself really weirdly I can’t even reach all the way around these wings.  I don’t get why you’re so weird about Clockwork.”  The last was said angrily.  “He’s trying to help!  And you keep second-guessing me, but I’ve been in more situations like this than you!  I know what I’m doing!”

There was a sort of ringing silence. 

“Is this just because he’s a ghost?” demanded Danny, breaking it.

Immediately, Danny felt himself blushing.  That wasn’t fair of him.  They hadn’t said anything like that about ghosts for ages and ages.  Sometimes, he was frustrated by his parents, but he hardly ever yelled at them, especially not these days, when they knew what Danny was, and yelling at them in front of someone else was, well…  It wasn’t the most mature thing he could’ve done. 

“Danny, we’re just…”  Mom sighed heavily.  “We’re going to try and use the data you’ve collected so far to prepare the Speeder to go get you.  In the meantime…  You can stay with Clockwork, I suppose.”

“Okay,” said Danny, slightly dubious but trying not to show that in his voice.  He looked at Clockwork.  “Do I need to like… Lay down or something?”

“No, stay as you are.”  Clockwork floated upward, then duplicated himself. 

In short order, there were six Clockworks, who quickly surrounded Danny.  Two for each wing, front and back, and one directly behind him.  The last produced a box of strange tools and started distributing them. 

“I am going to make sure your wings are fully out, first,” said the Clockwork directly behind Danny.  “I will have to pull.”

“Okay,” said Danny, bracing himself. 

Clockwork put hands on his wings, just above the wings’ elbows.  Danny could…  He didn’t think taste was the right word, but it wasn’t exactly the wrong one, either.  He could feel Clockwork’s fingers with more than touch, could feel the ectoplasm in them, the barbs of his feathers absorbing what little they shed.  Then, Clockwork pulled.

Slowly, more wing emerged from his back, from each side.  Apparently, they hadn’t all come out at once, when the wings first emerged.  A tightness Danny hadn’t even noticed eased.  Danny groaned, sort of, a wavering unsteady hum. 

After an extra foot or so on each side had been pulled out, there was a meaty, solid sort of click in his back, like popping a stiff joint.  Then, his wings seemed to settle, fitting better with his shoulders, rising up a little to form shoulders of their own. 

He rolled his neck and shrugged all four of his shoulders.  The motion was much more complicated than usual.  He felt more feathers sprout from his skin, growing out from the bases of his wings.  They felt small, fine, and when the patches of feathers met each other at the center of his back they extended up and down his spine.  Not far, but far enough for the overall shape of the patch to be a spindle shape. 

“What was that?” asked Mom. 

“Um.  He was pulling my wings the rest of the way out – I guess, when they came out, some parts were stuck?”  He flexed the wings again.  “I guess they were all folded up, dimensionally.”  Lairs, Realms, Ghosts, and the Ghost Zone in general, anything with ectoplasm, really, all of them could be dimensionally weird.  Danny had a sort of… instinctual understanding of some of it, and he could put together something like the Fenton Cramemr without too much trouble, but he was still learning how it worked from a scientific perspective. 

Mom and Dad started muttering with one another.  Danny decided to ask them about it later.  He was distracted. 

Clockwork had started drawing his fingers through Danny’s wings, on all sides, four of them working from the inside, near Danny’s body, and the fifth, behind him, working on the newest feathers on his back.  It felt… intimate.  The feathers were sensitive, and just by looking, Danny could tell they would be easy to break, but Clockwork was gentle.  Even so, Danny was overwhelmed.  Each feather was so sensitive that each of Clockwork’s careful strokes shivered up Danny’s nerves to his spine and from there up to the base of his skull, to his brain, where it hummed and buzzed.  Some of that feeling lingered in his chest, vibrating, purring.  He shivered with it.  But it was also soothing.  With every stroke, Danny’s wings felt better, his feathers sitting more comfortably. 

The Clockwork in front of him, the sixth Clockwork, smiled, reassuringly. 

The other Clockworks reached the outer edges of Danny’s wings… And then they returned to where they started.  Danny made a sound, the very beginning of a question he hadn’t quite figured out how to phrase yet. 

“I was only ensuring everything was pointing in roughly the right direction,” said Clockwork.  “You need much more work than that.”

For the first few minutes, they didn’t seem to do anything overly different from the pass.  It was more brushing with gloved fingers.  But then, each of the Clockworks seemed to zoom in on a particular area, manipulating each individual feather until it fell into just the right place. 

If Danny had thought Clockwork’s earlier ministrations were soothing, they were nothing compared to this.  The purr in his chest reached audible volume and combined with the pleasant, fuzzy buzz in his hand to reach into his throat and make him hum.  His hum increased in pitch whenever a Clockwork got closer to putting a feather in just the right place, peaked the moment he did, and then dropped back down a moment later. 

The Clockwork working on the back side of his right wing was focused on a group of feathers that all seemed to be controlled by the same set of particularly tense, cramped muscles.  Danny twitched as Clockwork prodded the knot and suppressed a flinch when he touched it with the tip of one of the metal tools.  Danny’s skin temperature in ghost form meant that it felt warm rather than cool. 

Clockwork worked it into Danny’s skin, massaging the muscle until it relaxed and Clockwork was able to orient the feathers. 

That wasn’t the only thing that the tools were used for.  Some to remove rare debris like bits of hair and skin and leaves and dust.  There weren’t very many of those.  Danny’s wings hadn’t existed for all that long.  Other tools seemed to exist to reach into the pores his feathers grew from to make tiny adjustments to how they lay, or to untangle feather barbs from one another and slick them back. 

At this point, Danny found out what the Clockwork in front of him was for.  As the other Clockworks worked, Danny slumped forward, and that Clockwork caught him, holding him up.  Calling Danny relaxed would be a gross understatement.  He felt like he was practically melting.  Soft and malleable. 

The only wrinkle was the noise in his ear.  Those were his parents, but the cadence of their voices reminded him of the… Christmas incidents.  Not relaxing.  He vaguely reached up to his ear and pulled out the Fenton Phone.  Clockwork, helpfully, tucked it into a pocket on Danny’s belt and then, when Danny went completely limp, rearranged Danny in a more comfortable position. 

He could hear Clockwork’s clock tick in his chest as his head was settled against it.  Clockwork smoothed Danny’s hair back from his forehead and started working out knots there, too. 

Clockwork moved his wings manually as he worked, moving them back and forth, in and out, to make sure the feathers laid right in all positions.  When his wings were tucked in, the amount of ectoplasm he was absorbing overall went down.  When they were spread out, they absorbed more. 

Finally, seemingly satisfied, Clockwork put away the tools and took out small jars of something that smelled vaguely herbal.  He scooped it out and began to massage it into Danny’s feathers and the skin underneath them. 

It felt good.  Tingly.  He was pretty sure he was drooling into Clockwork’s chest, and he was making such a sound that he had to wonder if the altitude had done something to his throat as well.  It could have.  There could have been loads of other changes.  The wings were pretty distracting.

“There we are,” said Clockwork, merging with his duplicates.  “Now, I must ask again.  Shall I introduce you to some of the more interesting Realms of this altitude?”

Danny would have agreed to do just about anything with Clockwork, just then.  He nodded.

Clockwork smiled again, then ran his hand through Danny’s hair and down his back through his fluffy feathers there.  That kicked Danny’s purring into high gear again.  He lifted Danny up into the air, somehow arranging him in his arms in a way that wasn’t horribly awkward. 

Danny flared his wings out, instinctively.  Something inside him wanted to curl up asleep somewhere with a good, strong, ectoplasmic breeze and just… absorb for a while.  Growing his wings in the first place had apparently eaten into his reserves more than he thought, and then the stress…

Clockwork pressed a round, rosy apple into his hands. 

“Eat,” said Clockwork.  “You will feel better.”

Danny roused himself, just a little.  “It’s safe?”

“For ghosts,” said Clockwork.  “I would not offer one to a human.”

There were lots of things like that.  There were even some things that were safe for humans but not ghosts.  Danny nodded, then bit into it. 

It tasted… like an apple.  Genuinely like an apple.  A lot of ghost food tasted… off.  Not in a bad way, just in a way that didn’t entirely line up with how the mundane version was supposed to taste.  This apple tasted like an ideal apple.  Like the idea of an apple made real, even. 

That was an interesting mental effect.  It had to be a mental effect, because Danny could feel the ectoplasm in the apple as he swallowed, satisfying his craving. 

He finished the apple in short order, chewing it all the way down to the core. 

“Should I do something with this?” he asked.  He felt like he should do something more than just throw it to the side. 

“You can plant it,” said Clockwork. 

Danny bobbed his head and wriggled out of Clockwork’s arms.  He still wasn’t entirely back to normal, and it took him a couple tries to float properly, which was embarrassing.  That in mind, he flew down to the ground carefully and made a little hole in the ground with his telekinesis.  He slipped the apple core in and collapsed the hole in the same way.  Then, he floated back up to Clockwork. 

Flying was weird, with wings.  He both felt like he should be using them to help in some way, and that he shouldn’t.  Either way, they made him hyperaware of how the air was moving through his feathers and how it… tasted. 

There really had to be a better word.

He hovered in front of Clockwork for a moment.  “Which way?” he asked. 

Clockwork’s smile became markedly more pleased.  He gestured out, away from the island and slightly upward.  “Follow me.”

[five-rivers]

Take Me Higher chapter 2

Read on AO3

Part of Kingdoms of Fish

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“My—What?” asked Danny.  He flew up to perch next to Clockwork.  “What’s going on?  Why do you have wings?  Is this—It feels different from when I go into, you know, a space that does this.  A realm.  You know.”  The change felt more real, somehow.

“That is because it is,” said Clockwork.  He raised his left hand, revealing that he had brought Danny’s pack up with him. 

There was a sharp intake of breath in Danny’s ear.  “What was that?  Our cameras on the pack just jumped.” 

“Clockwork probably stopped time to grab you,” said Danny, distracted.  “It isn’t important.”  He leaned forward to grab Clockwork’s cloak.  Intentionally.  It wasn’t because his wings unbalanced him or anything like that.  “What happened?”

“Ghosts require a certain amount of energy and ectoplasm in order to maintain themselves,” said Clockwork.  “Those things are absorbed through a ghost’s surface.”  He paused significantly. 

“We know that,” said Dad, “so why is he saying it?”

“Something to do with the wings, most likely,” said Mom.  “Something about the low ectoplasm levels triggering them?  They would raise the surface area.”

“And…  The wings help with that,” said Danny, trying to keep track of all sides of the conversation.  “Because they increase surface area?  Is that why so many of the ghost animals here have wings?”

Clockwork nodded.  “They act as capture and filtering mechanisms.  Ghosts do not need them to fly, after all.”  He gestured with his own wings, spreading them and then pulling them in. 

“But—That—Why don’t ghosts grow them every time they go to Amity Park or something like that?  The ectoplasm is just as thin there.”

“Do you know what triggers the breathing reflex in humans?” asked Clockwork.

“It’s carbon dioxide concentration, isn’t it?” he said, quickly, before his parents could start shouting out the answer.  “So, you’re saying the wings are triggered by something else, other than ectoplasm?”

“Ectoplasm concentration is partially responsible,” admitted Clockwork, “but it is not the primary cause.  Your parents should have already started detecting some of the relevant particles and compounds, such as aether.  The Realms are not made entirely of ectoplasm, as you know.”

“We have detected something but—” Danny decided to focus on Clockwork. 

“Right,” said Danny, inhaling deeply.  His wings twitched as his chest rose and fell.  “Okay.  So.  Something about the environment up here makes ghosts grow wings, and that lets them absorb ectoplasm better.  To help with the low ectoplasm levels.  I guess that’s why so many of the animal ghosts are eating stuff, too?  There’s ectoplasm in the fruit and stuff.”  And in the other ghosts, too, but that felt like a weird thing to say out loud for some reason.

“That is correct.”

“And now I have wings too.  And that’s why I feel like I’m swimming in ectoplasm.  They’re absorbing more than I’m used to.”

“Also correct.”

“This is normal, then?  Normal for ghosts?” that was a bit of an oxymoron, but that was the best way to condense the questions that his parents were asking. 

“For the most part,” said Clockwork.

“So… not normal.”  Which wasn’t anything new but still made Danny’s shoulders slump.

Clockwork smiled gently, then sat down.  “Come, sit with me,” he said, patting the grassy ground next to him. 

Danny sat down.  With the wings, it was much more of a production than usual.  They still didn’t want to close.

“The environment here, being relatively low in easily-accessed ectoplasmic energy, resembles the ecosystems of the Earth much more than most other locations in the Infinite Realms,” said Clockwork.  “As a half ghost, you are actually well adapted to this environment.”

“Oh?”

“You require less ectoplasm and can get energy from other sources.  Your internal structures are already well-defined.  The way you move requires less ecto-energy.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“But such features, combined with your habitual residence in a low-ectoplasm environment, have added other idiosyncrasies to the process of adaptation.”

“Like what?”

“Most ghosts would have grown wings much lower,” said Clockwork, “at about the level where you first started noticing animal ghosts with additional wings, in fact.  Interestingly, more powerful ghosts tend to grow wings at lower levels than weaker ghosts.  Weaker ghosts tend to be smaller, with more surface area for their mass, and need less ectoplasm to function.  More powerful ghosts tend to be more sensitive to aether as well, for various reasons.”

“Is that why they felt like they came in so… suddenly?”

“Was it sudden?” asked Clockwork.  “If you think back, you may recall feeling the initial changes.”

“You did keep touching your shoulders,” reminded Mom.  “You said they itched, that you might have strained them.”

“Oh, right,” said Danny.  “I guess I did.”

“However, it is true that once your wings started growing, your body may have overcompensated.  Your wings are unusually large for someone of your power level and present elevation.”

“So, they’d get bigger if I went higher?”

“Yes.  Most ghosts would also start to develop other instincts, such as the desire to eat or sleep, to gain or conserve energy, but you already have those.”

“Okay…  What happens if I go back down?”  Even here, the ectoplasm felt uncomfortably thick. The thought of swimming through even thicker ectoplasm made his feathers itch.  Actually, his feathers itched anyway.  Most of them felt… out of position.  Ruffled.  Should he do something about that?  Could he do something about that?

“Normally,” said Clockwork.  “Ghosts who come up this far have been pushed out of lower, more energy-rich areas by stronger ghosts, or, in the case of more intelligent ghosts, to find more peaceful, more earthlike areas.”

That didn’t answer Danny’s question.  His parents noticed that, too, but Danny decided to wait. 

“Weaker, less complex ghosts, ones with less of a sense of self, are generally overwhelmed by the amount of ectoplasm they are absorbing and dissolve.  Their cores, if they survive, may eventually gather enough ectoplasm for them to reform.  It is different for more complex ghosts, those who can hold themselves together.”

“Different how?”

“It depends.  Some meet the same fate as the less complex ghosts, overwhelmed, especially if they fall too far, too fast.  Others face similar issues to the ones you had when you explored the depths.  Some adapt with radical physical changes.  Others are able to find ways to consume ectoplasm rapidly enough to keep their levels in balance.  There are those who are able to maintain their form, but they are rare.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  That was going to make things… difficult.  “So, the wings wouldn’t just… fold back into my back or something?”

“No,” said Clockwork.  “It would be more convenient if they did, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “But if I can’t go down safely, what am I going to do?  I can’t stay up here.”

Clockwork hummed.  “That is not entirely true.”

“Which part?”

Clockwork chuckled.  “Both,” he said, “but I was referring more to your assertion that you cannot go down safely.  There are ways.”

“Like what?”

“A few ghosts who know they are going to descend cut off their wings and use various methods to inhibit them from growing back.  I do not recommend that method, however, as it is rather painful and results are not consistent.  You could duplicate and send one of yourselves down while sending the other up – energy sharing would tend to average out your ectoplasm levels, but losing a duplicate would always be a risk.  You could learn shapeshifting – not all shapeshifters can shapeshift away wings, but some can.  You could test to see if your natural transformation could remove them, but then, of course, you would have to navigate back to your portal in human form.”

“We could come get you,” said Mom.  “We have your location.”

“Mom, no,” said Danny.  “You don’t have the Speeder rated for this altitude.” 

That was part of the reason Danny took so many trips out with sensors.  His parents needed to know what environments to prepare their equipment for.  Not to mention the dangers they could run into getting up this high.  He could probably fall down to an altitude closer to the portal, but gravity was weird in the Ghost Zone.  It was just as likely that he’d get stuck floating somewhere or go sideways.  And then, of course, there was the problem of stopping once he got going.  He wasn’t very good at flying in human form.  He couldn’t do it for very long. 

It could work.  It just wasn’t very likely that it’d work without some kind of major problem coming up. 

“Even if you did come, I’d still have the wings in ghost form.  I couldn’t go out into the Zone.  I’d be stuck in the house.”  Except for going out into Amity Park as Phantom, maybe, but he knew himself well enough to know that wouldn’t be sustainable psychologically speaking.

“There is another way,” said Clockwork.  “I could seal your wings, which would effectively make them vanish.  There are drawbacks, of course, but they are not as severe as with some of the other methods I mentioned.  It would also be faster than trying to learn how to shapeshift.”

“And that isn’t convenient at all,” said Maddie, quietly.  “Make sure you get details before you agree to anything.”

He was going to do that anyway.  “Drawbacks like what?” asked Danny, leaning forward.  He made a face as his wings moved oddly with him.  He tried to move them to sit better, rotating them like he’d rotate a stiff shoulder. 

“Other than rare circumstances under which the seal might break and expose you to other risks, you would not be able to come this high again,” said Clockwork.  “If you did, not only would the seal break, but your body would overcompensate to adapt, as it would not be able to feel your wings behind the seal.”

“Overcompensate how?” asked Danny. 

“By growing another set of wings,” said Clockwork.  “Then, of course, you would be forced to go even higher, because both sets of wings would be filtering ectoplasm for you.”

“And if I stayed I’d be overwhelmed, like if I went to a lower level,” said Danny. 

“Not quite as much,” said Clockwork, “there are diminishing returns for larger surface area, because ultimately there is only so much ectoplasm in a given volume, but yes.”

“And I guess you wouldn’t be able to seal them again?”

“It would be a one-time deal, I’m afraid.”

That wasn’t too bad.  Danny would just have to be careful to stay in the elevation band he could safely tolerate.  He didn’t care for being restricted like that, but there wasn’t much he could do.  It was better than being permanently stuck at home.

But…  He looked out over the landscape spreading out all around them.  He’d regret not getting to explore more of this.  It was beautiful up here, and Danny couldn’t help but be intrigued by Clockwork’s assertion that half ghosts were well-adapted to the area.

Maybe he could get his parents to make him something like a spacesuit, something that would keep out the wing-triggering particles.  It’d take a lot of work after all of this, though. 

Honestly, Danny sometimes felt like he was on a pendulum, as far as his parents’ permission went.  Sometimes, they’d be okay with him exploring all sorts of things, other times, usually after something unexpected had happened on one of his trips, but not always, they’d barely let him go to the Far Frozen.  It was frustrating, especially when he wasn’t able to leave the house to socialize as a human. 

“However, I do have a proposal for you,” said Clockwork. 

Danny looked back up at him.  “Other than the seal?”  His parents were arguing with each other about what Danny should do, but the argument didn’t sound all that important.    

“In addition to the seal,” said Clockwork.  “There are many Realms at this altitude that I think you would find interesting.  I would escort you to some of those Realms and guide you through them, to study the cultures, collect data, and otherwise explore, as you would like.”

Danny blinked at Clockwork, surprised.  “You’d give me a tour?”

“If you would like to think of it that way, yes.  Then, afterward, I would seal your wings.”

Despite his parents’ vocally expressed doubts, Danny couldn’t see a downside to that offer. 

“How—How long would that take?” asked Danny. 

“As long or as short as you would like,” said Clockwork.  “The length of time spent is immaterial.”

“It’d be really good for data collection,” said Danny, hopefully. 

“He hasn’t even said where he wants to take you,” said Mom.  “Don’t agree to anything.”

“I still need to agree to getting my wings sealed eventually, unless you want me to risk falling apart.”

“I don’t like relying on this ‘seal’ of his, but I guess he’s brought you home before,” said Dad, grudgingly.  “I’d still like it better if we came and got you.  You can learn shapeshifting at home!”

Danny didn’t understand why his parents didn’t like Clockwork.  He’d never been anything but helpful and friendly while they were around.  Remotely or physically. 

“You do not need to decide immediately, but may I offer to groom your wings while you think?”

“What?”

“Your feathers are rather ruffled,” said Clockwork, “and I do not believe your wings are entirely manifested.  It cannot be comfortable.  It is something that should be done regardless of if you choose to be sealed now or later.”

“Why?” demanded Mom. 

Danny repeated the question. 

“As I said, it cannot be comfortable.  Trying to seal your wings in this state would also be difficult.”

Clockwork’s tone told Danny it would be more than just difficult, but borderline impossible. 

“It will make more sense once you are properly groomed,” said Clockwork, apparently responding to Danny’s expression.

Usually, when Clockwork said something like that, he was right.  It was honestly more surprising that he hadn’t followed it up with a comment about Danny being fourteen (which, technically, he wasn’t, even if he looked that way).

His parents also had a lot to say about the lack of explanation.  Not that Danny could understand most of it.  He was starting to get a headache from the volume and trying to listen to the overlapping conversations, and, like when he was trying to talk on the phone and his parents were trying to talk to him, he defaulted to paying attention to the person he was physically with.

Even so, a few sentences came through.

“Danny, I don’t think this is a good idea.  If it’s really important, can’t you do it yourself?  I’m not comfortable with some stranger grooming you.”

“He’s not a stranger and it’s literal grooming,” said Danny, irritated.  “I don’t know anything about it, and unless I warp myself really weirdly I can’t even reach all the way around these wings.  I don’t get why you’re so weird about Clockwork.”  The last was said angrily.  “He’s trying to help!  And you keep second-guessing me, but I’ve been in more situations like this than you!  I know what I’m doing!”

There was a sort of ringing silence. 

“Is this just because he’s a ghost?” demanded Danny, breaking it.

Immediately, Danny felt himself blushing.  That wasn’t fair of him.  They hadn’t said anything like that about ghosts for ages and ages.  Sometimes, he was frustrated by his parents, but he hardly ever yelled at them, especially not these days, when they knew what Danny was, and yelling at them in front of someone else was, well…  It wasn’t the most mature thing he could’ve done. 

“Danny, we’re just…”  Mom sighed heavily.  “We’re going to try and use the data you’ve collected so far to prepare the Speeder to go get you.  In the meantime…  You can stay with Clockwork, I suppose.”

“Okay,” said Danny, slightly dubious but trying not to show that in his voice.  He looked at Clockwork.  “Do I need to like… Lay down or something?”

“No, stay as you are.”  Clockwork floated upward, then duplicated himself. 

In short order, there were six Clockworks, who quickly surrounded Danny.  Two for each wing, front and back, and one directly behind him.  The last produced a box of strange tools and started distributing them. 

“I am going to make sure your wings are fully out, first,” said the Clockwork directly behind Danny.  “I will have to pull.”

“Okay,” said Danny, bracing himself. 

Clockwork put hands on his wings, just above the wings’ elbows.  Danny could…  He didn’t think taste was the right word, but it wasn’t exactly the wrong one, either.  He could feel Clockwork’s fingers with more than touch, could feel the ectoplasm in them, the barbs of his feathers absorbing what little they shed.  Then, Clockwork pulled.

Slowly, more wing emerged from his back, from each side.  Apparently, they hadn’t all come out at once, when the wings first emerged.  A tightness Danny hadn’t even noticed eased.  Danny groaned, sort of, a wavering unsteady hum. 

After an extra foot or so on each side had been pulled out, there was a meaty, solid sort of click in his back, like popping a stiff joint.  Then, his wings seemed to settle, fitting better with his shoulders, rising up a little to form shoulders of their own. 

He rolled his neck and shrugged all four of his shoulders.  The motion was much more complicated than usual.  He felt more feathers sprout from his skin, growing out from the bases of his wings.  They felt small, fine, and when the patches of feathers met each other at the center of his back they extended up and down his spine.  Not far, but far enough for the overall shape of the patch to be a spindle shape. 

“What was that?” asked Mom. 

“Um.  He was pulling my wings the rest of the way out – I guess, when they came out, some parts were stuck?”  He flexed the wings again.  “I guess they were all folded up, dimensionally.”  Lairs, Realms, Ghosts, and the Ghost Zone in general, anything with ectoplasm, really, all of them could be dimensionally weird.  Danny had a sort of… instinctual understanding of some of it, and he could put together something like the Fenton Cramemr without too much trouble, but he was still learning how it worked from a scientific perspective. 

Mom and Dad started muttering with one another.  Danny decided to ask them about it later.  He was distracted. 

Clockwork had started drawing his fingers through Danny’s wings, on all sides, four of them working from the inside, near Danny’s body, and the fifth, behind him, working on the newest feathers on his back.  It felt… intimate.  The feathers were sensitive, and just by looking, Danny could tell they would be easy to break, but Clockwork was gentle.  Even so, Danny was overwhelmed.  Each feather was so sensitive that each of Clockwork’s careful strokes shivered up Danny’s nerves to his spine and from there up to the base of his skull, to his brain, where it hummed and buzzed.  Some of that feeling lingered in his chest, vibrating, purring.  He shivered with it.  But it was also soothing.  With every stroke, Danny’s wings felt better, his feathers sitting more comfortably. 

The Clockwork in front of him, the sixth Clockwork, smiled, reassuringly. 

The other Clockworks reached the outer edges of Danny’s wings… And then they returned to where they started.  Danny made a sound, the very beginning of a question he hadn’t quite figured out how to phrase yet. 

“I was only ensuring everything was pointing in roughly the right direction,” said Clockwork.  “You need much more work than that.”

For the first few minutes, they didn’t seem to do anything overly different from the pass.  It was more brushing with gloved fingers.  But then, each of the Clockworks seemed to zoom in on a particular area, manipulating each individual feather until it fell into just the right place. 

If Danny had thought Clockwork’s earlier ministrations were soothing, they were nothing compared to this.  The purr in his chest reached audible volume and combined with the pleasant, fuzzy buzz in his hand to reach into his throat and make him hum.  His hum increased in pitch whenever a Clockwork got closer to putting a feather in just the right place, peaked the moment he did, and then dropped back down a moment later. 

The Clockwork working on the back side of his right wing was focused on a group of feathers that all seemed to be controlled by the same set of particularly tense, cramped muscles.  Danny twitched as Clockwork prodded the knot and suppressed a flinch when he touched it with the tip of one of the metal tools.  Danny’s skin temperature in ghost form meant that it felt warm rather than cool. 

Clockwork worked it into Danny’s skin, massaging the muscle until it relaxed and Clockwork was able to orient the feathers. 

That wasn’t the only thing that the tools were used for.  Some to remove rare debris like bits of hair and skin and leaves and dust.  There weren’t very many of those.  Danny’s wings hadn’t existed for all that long.  Other tools seemed to exist to reach into the pores his feathers grew from to make tiny adjustments to how they lay, or to untangle feather barbs from one another and slick them back. 

At this point, Danny found out what the Clockwork in front of him was for.  As the other Clockworks worked, Danny slumped forward, and that Clockwork caught him, holding him up.  Calling Danny relaxed would be a gross understatement.  He felt like he was practically melting.  Soft and malleable. 

The only wrinkle was the noise in his ear.  Those were his parents, but the cadence of their voices reminded him of the… Christmas incidents.  Not relaxing.  He vaguely reached up to his ear and pulled out the Fenton Phone.  Clockwork, helpfully, tucked it into a pocket on Danny’s belt and then, when Danny went completely limp, rearranged Danny in a more comfortable position. 

He could hear Clockwork’s clock tick in his chest as his head was settled against it.  Clockwork smoothed Danny’s hair back from his forehead and started working out knots there, too. 

Clockwork moved his wings manually as he worked, moving them back and forth, in and out, to make sure the feathers laid right in all positions.  When his wings were tucked in, the amount of ectoplasm he was absorbing overall went down.  When they were spread out, they absorbed more. 

Finally, seemingly satisfied, Clockwork put away the tools and took out small jars of something that smelled vaguely herbal.  He scooped it out and began to massage it into Danny’s feathers and the skin underneath them. 

It felt good.  Tingly.  He was pretty sure he was drooling into Clockwork’s chest, and he was making such a sound that he had to wonder if the altitude had done something to his throat as well.  It could have.  There could have been loads of other changes.  The wings were pretty distracting.

“There we are,” said Clockwork, merging with his duplicates.  “Now, I must ask again.  Shall I introduce you to some of the more interesting Realms of this altitude?”

Danny would have agreed to do just about anything with Clockwork, just then.  He nodded.

Clockwork smiled again, then ran his hand through Danny’s hair and down his back through his fluffy feathers there.  That kicked Danny’s purring into high gear again.  He lifted Danny up into the air, somehow arranging him in his arms in a way that wasn’t horribly awkward. 

Danny flared his wings out, instinctively.  Something inside him wanted to curl up asleep somewhere with a good, strong, ectoplasmic breeze and just… absorb for a while.  Growing his wings in the first place had apparently eaten into his reserves more than he thought, and then the stress…

Clockwork pressed a round, rosy apple into his hands. 

“Eat,” said Clockwork.  “You will feel better.”

Danny roused himself, just a little.  “It’s safe?”

“For ghosts,” said Clockwork.  “I would not offer one to a human.”

There were lots of things like that.  There were even some things that were safe for humans but not ghosts.  Danny nodded, then bit into it. 

It tasted… like an apple.  Genuinely like an apple.  A lot of ghost food tasted… off.  Not in a bad way, just in a way that didn’t entirely line up with how the mundane version was supposed to taste.  This apple tasted like an ideal apple.  Like the idea of an apple made real, even. 

That was an interesting mental effect.  It had to be a mental effect, because Danny could feel the ectoplasm in the apple as he swallowed, satisfying his craving. 

He finished the apple in short order, chewing it all the way down to the core. 

“Should I do something with this?” he asked.  He felt like he should do something more than just throw it to the side. 

“You can plant it,” said Clockwork. 

Danny bobbed his head and wriggled out of Clockwork’s arms.  He still wasn’t entirely back to normal, and it took him a couple tries to float properly, which was embarrassing.  That in mind, he flew down to the ground carefully and made a little hole in the ground with his telekinesis.  He slipped the apple core in and collapsed the hole in the same way.  Then, he floated back up to Clockwork. 

Flying was weird, with wings.  He both felt like he should be using them to help in some way, and that he shouldn’t.  Either way, they made him hyperaware of how the air was moving through his feathers and how it… tasted. 

There really had to be a better word.

He hovered in front of Clockwork for a moment.  “Which way?” he asked. 

Clockwork’s smile became markedly more pleased.  He gestured out, away from the island and slightly upward.  “Follow me.”

[five-rivers]

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[five-rivers]

Dabby Phabby doobles

[five-rivers]

You see I too often sat in school classes and thought “when am I ever going to need this, I’m never going to be an engineer, I’m never gonna be a scientist, I’m never gonna be a linguist” and then I grew up and it turns out a lot of bigots and cults and scams and grifts hinge their entire business model on you just. Not knowing what a protein is or some shit

[five-rivers]

A bunch of people are bringing up school shootings and other emergencies, and those are super important, but I have to be honest, most of the time my concerns are more mundane. I just want to put them down here in the hope that it will help with understanding, since these are daily concerns rather than big tragedies that most people don't regularly face.

Like, the main job of a teacher is to teach. It's hard to effectively teach a group if a big chunk of the group isn't there (which is why I currently have the policy of letting anyone who needs to go during the warm up phase go as long as they check in), so that's usually my primary concern. Who's heard the activity instructions, who I have to repeat them to, stuff like that. Sometimes if the student waits just one more minute I don't have to repeat the instructions. Most teachers in my hall only let out 2-3 students at a time because there are only 8 bathrooms and there can be up to 6 classes running at a time, and none of us want students waiting in line when we've got such a short time to teach. That's what I'm usually concerned about.

Then there's mundane safety stuff. If a student is out of class for 15 minutes I send someone to check on them. About 75% of the time, the student is just vibing out, but the remaining 25% of the time there's a Problem. Sometimes the problem is 'dating drama' or 'forgot a pad,' but other times it's 'puking their guts up' or 'tripped and gave themselves a concussion plowing into the stall divider.' But for me to keep track of the time like that, I need to know when they left, and that means I need to actually acknowledge when they leave. I used to just ask them to tell me when they were going, but too many students didn't actually get my attention and tell me and just mumbled something in my general direction before leaving.

Maybe other teachers have other reasons for how they organize this kind of stuff. But the 'evil teacher obsessed with control of bathroom time' is, in my personal experience, an anomaly, not the norm.

One of those "teachers are evil for wanting kids to say something before going to the bathroom" posts is going around and of course I can't say anything about it without being labeled one of those evil teachers. I want to gnaw on the furniture.

[five-rivers]

I can't give too many details, but after a student never came back from the bathroom in one of my classes the whole school had to play the "hooky or kidnapping" game (it was hooky).

One of those "teachers are evil for wanting kids to say something before going to the bathroom" posts is going around and of course I can't say anything about it without being labeled one of those evil teachers. I want to gnaw on the furniture.

[five-rivers]

I think it started as a legitimate criticism of teachers who are on power trips micromanaging student bathroom use but has metamorphosed into something frankly absurd.

One of those "teachers are evil for wanting kids to say something before going to the bathroom" posts is going around and of course I can't say anything about it without being labeled one of those evil teachers. I want to gnaw on the furniture.

[five-rivers]

↖ this user has drank from the infernal river Lethe, which flows through Hades and brings total oblivion, eradicating all memory and thought

[five-rivers]

One of those "teachers are evil for wanting kids to say something before going to the bathroom" posts is going around and of course I can't say anything about it without being labeled one of those evil teachers. I want to gnaw on the furniture.

[five-rivers]

Clockwork’s garden was beautiful.  A work of art, even.  One maintained by a ghost who had thousands of years to improve his hobby.  Not only did the plants progress from one season to the next, from one stage of life to the next as one moved from section to section.  

Danny wasn’t supposed to go off the paths.  

There were dangers, he’d been told.  No specific ones had been listed, but still, when Clockwork said there was danger, there was danger.  

But Danny was in a hurry getting from point A, point B.  It was something that, in retrospect, hadn’t been that important, especially when Clockwork could just rewind if things were that important.   

Instead of following the winding, maze-like pathways, which seemed to change every time he tried to navigate the garden, he decided to fly up and over the plants.  Rather, he tried to fly up and over the plants.  They stretched up around him, seeming to grow to meet his path. 

He flinched backwards, and something sharp cut into the back of his right leg.  Something rustled threateningly, and Danny’s viewpoint tilted dangerously.  He tried to course correct, but he crashed into the ground.  

At least it was soft.  He flopped over onto his back to stare up at the spiralling green sky.  It didn’t help with his vertigo.  He squeezed his eyes shut and curled his hands in the soft ground cover beneath his fingers.  What was it?  Not grass, he didn’t think.  It was too spongy and stringy.  Moss?  

Whatever it was, it wasn’t the path, which meant he’d probably get scolded.  Clockwork didn’t yell, not like his mom, and he didn’t cross his arms and loom like his dad, but his raised eyebrow and sardonic commentary was almost as bad.  

He should’ve just stayed on the path.  Ugh.  On the other hand, if Clockwork had told him that would happen, he never would’ve tried to fly over.  

Feeling a bit more settled, he opened his eyes and sat up.  Little bits and pieces of the pallid moss underneath him stuck to the parts of his suit that had been in contact with it.  The moss looked like a mass of white and almost transparent threads, each fraying into tiny leaves and flowers.  

Danny grimaced.  He hoped he hadn’t damaged it too much, and that it wasn’t too important.  He’d had too much experience with making friends mad by destroying their plants.  

He looked around.  The patch of moss he was lying on was surrounded and shadowed by trees, dappled with light.  The bit of sky Danny had been watching earlier was tiny, smaller than his palm at arm’s length.  

What had scratched him?  He looked around.  The roses, maybe?

He couldn’t see the path.  He hadn’t thought he’d flown that far, but distances could get weird in the Ghost Zone.  

He shook his head and stood up, then stumbled, slipping on the moss.  Somehow, some of it had stuck to his leg without breaking, and the snag had taken him off guard.  

The cut on his leg had already healed, but maybe the ectoplasm had gotten it stuck.  Not thinking much of it, he reached down to pull it off.  He touched the moss, then stilled.  He… what?  What was that?  

He ran his finger down one of the threads of moss.  He could feel that.  That was…  That felt weird.  He gave it an experimental tug.  

That wasn’t just something stuck on the surface of his suit.  That was something deeper, attached to his leg.  He tugged a bit harder.  That tug felt like a hook in his muscle, and… something else.  

Had the cut on his leg healed around the bit of moss?  He hadn’t thought it was all that deep.  

What was he supposed to do about this?  It couldn’t be healthy to have random bits of foliage in his body.  Didn’t people get infections and stuff from stuff like that?  Like, this was Danny’s ghost form, not his human form, so he probably wouldn’t die or anything…  Unless sicknesses on this side carried over to his human side.  He knew it could sometimes go the other way, but he didn’t really get sick as a ghost.  

Or maybe it’d be more like a splinter, and work itself out.  That was also a thing that happened.  

He briefly tried phasing it out.  It didn’t work, but he didn’t expect it to.  

For some reason, he was weirdly reluctant to break the thread of moss, but he couldn’t just stay here, staring at it.  He’d break it, go to Clockwork, do what he’d come for, and then go to the Far Frozen to get it checked out.  

Or not.  He didn’t know how long Clockwork’s thing would take, and it wasn’t like it hurt or anything.  Much.  When he wasn’t messing with the thing.  

Heck, maybe his body would reabsorb it, even.  

Danny twisted to get a better look at what was going on where the moss met the black fabric of his suit and failed to become any more enlightened that he had been a minute ago.  He sighed, took the thread between his index finger and thumb as close to his leg as he could, then pulled.

Pain radiated up his calf to the back of his knee and down it to his ankle, nerve endings alight.  It was like the thing had put down roots in his flesh.  He hissed, bouncing on his other leg as the rest of his skin tingled weirdly.  

The pain pulsed, and he might have sworn a few times.  

Crap.  What if it had put down roots?  He didn’t know how fast these plants grew.  There were still places in Amity Park that looked like they belonged in a jungle, leftovers from Undergrowth’s invasion, and those had popped up literally overnight.  

If that one had put down roots… He brushed at the little bits and pieces still clinging to his suit.  They didn’t come off.  He seized on between his fingertips and tried to pull.  The radius of pain was different, it didn’t feel as deep, but it was there, and the thread of moss didn’t even break.  

The one attached to his leg hadn’t broken, either.  That was sort of insulting, honestly.  He’d been trying a lot harder with that one, since he didn’t know it’d hurt.  

This was… less good than he’d initially thought.  Why did Clockwork even have this stuff?  Why was it doing this?  Was it a venus fly trap situation where it’d try to eat him?  

Was it just him, or was the thread thicker?  Were there more filaments growing towards him?  Was his suit around the thread puckering outward?  What was it doing?

He took a deep breath and held it.  There was no need to panic.  Yet.  Panicking wouldn’t help.  There were still things he could try.  

But this didn't look good.  These things were growing fast.  

He was reluctant to try transforming.  He would bet that his human form wouldn’t deal with random roots growing through him nearly as well as his ghost half did. That would have to be a last resort.  

Ice, on the other hand, didn’t have that downside.  He brought it to the surface of his skin with a thought, then directed it downward, the better to kill the plants.  Clockwork would be mad, but Danny was done with the whole situation.  

The threads didn’t break, and, actually, Danny felt…  He felt something under the ground.  He felt it spreading out, and…

And he really shouldn’t.  Not like that.  He could feel the ice as if he were underground and freezing.  

Could it be…?  No.  That was ridiculous.  But then, so much of what happened in Amity Park and the Ghost Zone was ridiculous.  

Experimentally, he prodded the exposed part of the moss, the part that wasn’t drawing parts of his suit down along it, gently running his finger up and down its length.  

He did feel it, like it was somehow hooked into his nerves.

That couldn’t be good.  

He shifted, trying to get a better look at the moss, and realized that several strands of moss had grown up through the soles of his boots.  Crap.  Crap.  That was bad.  He was going to say this was bad.  

Maybe– Maybe he could just cut it.  Make a shard of ice sharp enough and sheer through.  Do it fast.  

He shifted again, noting how stiff his knee felt.  How stiff all of the joints near where the moss was growing felt.  Stiff, but oddly twitchy.  Like it wanted to move in a certain direction and then stay there.  

Also not good.  

He formed a razor-edged sliver of ice in his hand and swallowed.  This was going to suck.  

He bent forward, and had to strain.  His one leg didn’t want to bend at all, and his other ankle was very uncooperative.  He placed the edge of the ice against the biggest of the roots, swallowed again, then cut.  

His vision briefly went white with pain, but he forced himself to stay upright.  He had to cut his feet free, next.  

With how much it hurt, Danny was almost convinced he was cutting off his own toes.  Almost.  The ‘nerves’ in the moss, or whatever mechanism it was that let him feel it, didn’t properly map to his body.  His brain wasn’t sure where they were.  That made it a bit easier.  

Feet free, Danny took off and crashed again.  This time, luckily, outside the clearing of moss.  

Yes.  He’d sort of forgotten that effect, all of the plants rising up and blocking him.  At least he hadn’t collided with the moss again.  He pulled off the ground.  Maybe it would’ve been better to say that he pulled out of the ground.  He had to uproot a few enterprising strands of moss.  Or– was it moss, at this point?  It still had little fluffy leaves and flowers, but it was looking more like vines, like this, or gnarled roots, where they dangled off his boots.  

His boots were starting to look more than a little root-like, too, with the way the material twisted to follow the strands of moss.  The ones that were higher up tended to stick closer to his body.  

He walked forward, stiffly.  His legs felt like boards.  He had to keep moving, otherwise he might freeze up.  

He tripped over one of the roots and struggled to his feet.  He tripped again.  His right foot was firmly rooted, stuck in the ground.  

Then, with that pause in forward movement, so was his left one.  He couldn’t bend far enough to cut them free.  

Maybe he should panic now.  

The fabric of his pants was taking on a new, bark-like texture.  Short branches and flowers sprouted from his shoulders, and his arms twitched up, up, higher and higher until they were stretched over his head like branches themselves.  His head tilted back, against his will.  

He stayed like that for a while, leaves and branches growing from his skin.  

“Oh, Daniel,” said Clockwork, gloved hands reaching from behind Danny to touch the sides of his face.  “I did tell you not to go off the path.”

Soft body horror time!

Since I'm still not quite satisfied, somehow.

Stay tuned for the second poll!

[five-rivers]

Theme 2: Dream

I was jonesing to draw Void!Danny again so here he is

[five-rivers]

[five-rivers]

dash is dead im teleporting to the past

https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard?max_post_id=606474489540042752

[five-rivers]

This dream isn't feeling sweet.

You're the only friend I need Sharing beds like little kids And laughing 'til our ribs get tough But that will never be enough

.

.

Here's Jazz comforting her baby brother after nightmares to make up for the angst from the last drawing. Danny doesn't wanna tell her what the nightmare was about, but she isn't pressing him about it. She figures he'll tell her when he's ready, but Danny doesn't think he ever could.

[five-rivers]

Usually, with this many votes on one of these, the winner is clear, but this time it's not. Vote if you like soft body horror!

Soft body horror time!

Since I'm still not quite satisfied, somehow.

Stay tuned for the second poll!

[five-rivers]

Soft body horror time!

Since I'm still not quite satisfied, somehow.

Stay tuned for the second poll!