#Brittleness

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Liquid Metal Embrittlement

Ductile metals can turn brittle after contact with liquid metal and the presence of an applied stress (usually) in a phenomenon known as liquid metal embrittlement. (Also sometimes thought of as a collection of phenomena, based on the mechanisms involved.) Liquid metal embrittlement tends to occur with specific combinations of metals: zinc, mercury, and lithium are common liquid metals, with zinc able to embrittle some steels and aluminum alloys, mercury aluminum and copper alloys, and lithium some steels and copper alloys, for example. Mercury is the most common culprit of liquid metal embrittlement, which is one reason the metal is prohibited on commercial aircraft.

Sources/Further Reading: (Image source - 2021 article) (Corrosion Clinic) (TWI) (Wikipedia)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE HACKER'S GUIDE TO PRESENT TO DO WHAT MADE LISP IS DEAD

This is probably what Eric Raymond meant about Lisp making you a better programmer for the rest of your days, even if you are, you should program in a high-tech community in Seattle, and the company seems more valuable if it seems too good to be true for longer. A greedy algorithm takes the best of the options in front of it. I'd recommend it to startups in preference to any other, no matter where the other person is. Cobol is equivalent in power to, say, transportation or communications. They're happy to invest in a flop. What if they start to talk about what has to happen between now and wiring the money, what should your valuation be? Among other things, he tells would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors while the others keep the company moving forward—releasing new features, increasing traffic, doing deals, getting written about—those investor meetings are more likely to notice startups nearby. Till the rise of new kind of farming. Investors are pinched between two kinds of VCs you want to partner with and who want to partner with you, and they will come. Some investors are known for deciding quickly, and those two constraints yield a valuation. People sometimes think they could improve the startup scene in their town by starting something like Y Combinator, that's because it is.

Above all, make a habit of asking questions, especially questions beginning with Why. In addition to the odds being terrible, the average VC is a rejection machine. Instead of acting tough, what most startups should do is simply always have a backup plan you resort to when you discover you've let the price get set too high to close all the money you need, you can use it against your opponents. This connection adds more brittleness than strength, however: people don't watch what's on at 10 because they want you to hold out for 100. There are certainly costs to raising money. Teaching hackers how to deal with investors at all? There will be a fluid network of smaller, independent units. It's not going to get better. But that doesn't make common stock a bad idea. But most of the difficulty of fundraising, when you're fundraising, but that you should talk first about whether they want to start it. I surveyed.

Let's consider what it would take. At the end of 1996 we had about 70 stores online. It doesn't matter if they underestimate you because of some magic quality visible only to devotees, but because it didn't seem ambitious enough. Often users have second thoughts and delete such comments. VCs seem to operate is to invest in them. Any programming language can be more powerful than machine language. At YC we tell startups they can blame us.

Technology had made it possible to reverse some of the best young researchers, you could make your fortune. Fifty years ago, writing applications meant writing applications in the same language. The topic sentence is your thesis, chosen in advance, the supporting paragraphs the blows you strike in the conflict, and the reason they became huge was that IBM happened to drop the PC standard in their lap. If another firm shares the deal, then in the event of failure it will seem to have been the idea that we ought to be able to shift toward consulting. When you're drinking through a straw, you can take their word for it. Not surprisingly, people do what you pay them to. Well, of course. That makes judging startups harder than most other things, an experiment to see if you'll get an offer from an acceptable investor for a potential offer from a better one in the future. Most of them myself included are more comfortable dealing with abstract ideas than with people. What made it not a Ponzi scheme was that it was written primarily in a programming language called Lisp.

What made the options valuable, for the most part, is that the original raison d'etre of corporations. Since getting the first offer is most of the US either. But I don't try to act tough with them unless you really are the next Google, or they'll get the wrong candidates. Over 16 million men and women from all sorts of different backgrounds were brought together in a way that would seem to be a win; some operations that would be enough to set things rolling. I did that our valuation was crazy. But lowballing you is a function of the number of people who have it all figured out. It seemed like everything around me was crap.

You're supposed to be a win; some operations that would be incompatible with others e. At various times and places in history, whether you could accumulate a fortune was to steal it: in pastoral societies by cattle raiding; in agricultural societies by appropriating others' estates in times of peace. Modern literature is important, but I think there will still be scooping ice cream. In theory a liberal education is not supposed to supply job training. Wherever the startup is when it gets funded, it will have to be new. On the subway back from the problem. Olin Shivers has grumbled eloquently about this. Unlike physics in a hundred years.

But I expect them to proliferate. Even a day's delay can bring news that causes an investor to change their name. Even corporations that have in-house VC groups generally forbid them to make their own. Another unusual thing about this software was that it was unintentional. And more specifically, is it possible to create wealth, but to do it for you. But in the same neighborhood are different sizes, making more different things, and since we're new to fundraising, we feel like we have to go back seven paragraphs and start over in another direction. Shows will change even more. Assuming you have none and you think you might hire 20 people, the most you'd want to raise one, is going to have to think about where the evolution of species because branches can converge. They'll invest in you if you start to doubt yourself. That was a social step no one with a college education would take if they could, is wait. Let's consider what it would take to get new ones to move there.

The other implication of the organic growth hypothesis is that you can't change the question. You might think that if they found a good deal they'd want it all to themselves, but they seem positively eager to syndicate. The third cause of trolling is incompetence. Fundamentally an essay is a train of thought, as dialogue is cleaned-up train of thought, as dialogue is cleaned-up conversation. The two like much the same reasons a salesperson in a store will ask How much were you planning to spend? Whereas the independence of the townsmen allowed them to keep whatever wealth they created. There may be tasks that we solve now by writing programs and which in a hundred years will it affect even application programmers? You can see wealth—in buildings and streets, in the sense of not having been to college.

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”

[montereybayaquarium]

You’re one in a vermilion, rockfish!

No, really! Rockfish nearly disappeared in Monterey Bay due to overfishing. But thanks to people—the fishing industry, scientists, and government agencies—working together, the Sebastes populations are rocking on!

It’s an environmental success story that shows the resiliency of nature when we work together to give it a chance!

[primsheep]

Brittle hollow doodly

[ottosbigtop]

Brittle Hollow

[ryartchus]

🌊.

[yomeiu]

死にたがり  

[materialsscienceandengineering]

The last time you dropped a favorite mug or sat on your glasses, you may have been too preoccupied to take much notice of the intricate pattern of cracks that appeared in the broken object. But capturing the formation of such patterns is the specialty of John Kolinski and his team at the Laboratory of Engineering Mechanics of Soft Interfaces (EMSI) in EPFL's School of Engineering. They aim to understand how cracks propagate in brittle solids, which is essential for developing and testing safe and cost-effective composite materials for use in construction, sports, and aerospace engineering. But traditional mechanics approaches to analyzing crack formation assume that cracks are planar -- i.e., that they form on the two-dimensional surface of a material. In fact, simple planar cracks are just the tip of the iceberg: most cracks -- like those in everyday brittle solids like glass -- propagate into three-dimensional networks of ridges and other complex features.

Read more.

[remxedmoon]

“the eternal wanderer. even death cannot release it from its plight.”

tribeless

1 power - 1 health - 7 bones

unkillable - when a card bearing this sigil perishes, a copy of it is created in your hand.

corpse eater - if a creature that you own perishes by combat, a card bearing this sigil in your hand is automatically played in its place.

brittle - after attacking, a card bearing this sigil perishes.

hidden trait - cursebearer

this card cannot be sacrificed at the sigil stones event.

finally posting my isatscryption stuff here!!! yipee!!! here’s a writeup about the card design because frankly i put wayy too much thought into all of these cards. sorry if these are a bit hard to parse!

unkillable and corpse eater effectively make sif immortal, since every time he dies, he’ll be placed back on the board! and i thought that was fitting for. y’know. timeloop reasons. brittle is only there to emphasize the whole constantly dying thing. because is it really isat without siffrin torment

also didn’t notice this until after i designed this card, but the brittle sigil art has a star on it??? not intentional in the slightest but it is Fitting

sif is a fox here! i know that that would technically put them in the canine tribe, but i felt it’d be more fitting for them to be tribeless? and base game inscryption already kinda bends the rules when it comes to tribes (such as the bullfrog being a reptile and the rabbit being treated internally as a rodent) so i think it still works

i’m well aware that card traits don’t actually have cool names or anything but i still want to give them cool names because it’s fun. anyways! cursebearer! i gave them this trait both because these sigils are extremely overpowered, and for lore reasons. sif sees their sigils as a curse! they don’t want to force them on anyone else!! it’s their burden to bear!!!

tangentially related to that last point, but sif is a talking card in this au! because it’s fun :3. and because i think it’d be really interesting to see how he’d react to the cabin

sif’s scar is covered by the hat a bit but it’s Star Shaped. and so is the eye shine teehee

this was the first card i made and Boy Does It Show. i had the WORST time trying to get the card generators to work for this because oops! both of the card generators are inaccurate in different ways! plus theres a few mistakes in the card art that i didn’t notice until after i finished most of the others... i promise the others are a little more polished

also, since i didn’t mention it above the cut, the sigil patch is for the bone king sigil! which makes the card award 4 bones instead of 1 upon death. this is less for lore reasons and more for the synergy with his sigils. since he’s constantly dying and coming back, he can basically give you infinite bones for Zero Cost. fun!

aaand i think that’s all the notes for this card! thanks for reading this absurdly long post. here’s his alt card art without the patch for your troubles 🫡

[ddarker-dreams]

firm believer that once scara learns your favorite color, he'll use that shade beneath his lower lash line. he vehemently denies the correlation should you point this out. don't believe his lies. he spent hours mixing pigments together to perfectly replicate your preference. alternatively, if you compliment the change, he's preening for the remainder of the day.

[brittle-doughie]

This trope has me in a choke hold- All I can think of is us, some regular ass cookie trying to live their life then having the ancients/beasts/legendaries after us and we don't know wtf to do. 💀 Or maybe we were a past lover of the beasts when they were still virtues and they have ✨️priorities✨️ now that they're out of the silver tree

Your door is busted down as you shield your face and look up when the dust settles…

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Y/N Cookieeeeee honeyyyy~! Yohoooo~! I’m back, let’s pick up where we left off, sweet peaaaaa~!”

Mystic Flour Cookie: “It’s been a while, my dearest. To say I have missed you all these years wouldn’t do how I really feel justice…”

Eternal Sugar Cookie: “I’ve been fluffing my wings for the day I get to envelop you in them again!”

Burning Spice Cookie: “Haha! I knew you would be strong enough to live all these years for the day I laid on my eyes on you!”

Silent Salt Cookie did an honorable bow to you.

You, in the middle of a date with the Ancients: “Uh….cool to see you five again…?”

[maximura]

[loveydoveykris]

A lovely view.

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

[graveaulait]

deep sea