#First Specter / Saved. = Spirit.

[captainkurosolaire]

Dreamer of Dreams

 How important are dreams? Chasing things beyond us sometimes grant us strength to surpass limits, to courageously endure for our vision. Over time a Pirate’s own became misconstrued, failures, losses piled up and his grandeur became murky. Losing a partial, vital piece of essence. Children call them dreams, but upon nurture, it was called Ambition! Without having a strong-self interest, he couldn’t relate or jump the hurdle for others, initially sought.  Now rectification came to retrieve what was lost. The First-Stage to Healing.

By plucking his lost spirit within obscurity, a reversion of his zenith came. That horrendous fog vaporized to magnificent sunlight. Matured figure of the boy-to-be, extended his arm’s out, it was time to go home. In their embrace, unbridled warmth quaked from a reunion of resolve. A wide-spread grin surfaced externally Captain’s injuries stung, ached, nevertheless something swelled within himself, the belief to achieve, in absolution. He sprung a bounce to his soles, kip-up. With finesse, began reassembling his own mind-games against his Skull Brethren, since started off this way, donning his original attire, fetching dual-blade’s of Hingan that were sworn off to prevent incidental death. Black-blood face paint ran across his eyelids, not only repulsing the dead itself; used to aid him in becoming brave that required adversity, now just meant to trigger Sol's distress. Sol took aim to shoot-down Captain’s butterfly who came from the cabin’s keyhole to cause misdirection, the spirit-guide, named Perish, fluttered between his limbs, barely evading swatting and squishing attempts. Soon found himself pulverized by a door that flew off the hinges suddenly as the Seeker sprinted with full on collision from a drop-kick, then surfboarding it, trampling his rib-cage. “Always told ye t’ fix that blimey door!” Giving a befitting punishment to the Shipwright, squished with the cabin’s door on him, Kuro kicked Sol’s silver-wind pistol into the waters, then blitzed towards climbing to the top-mast where their sail-flag awaited. Mistbeard’s mask still onlooking their pirate-battle. The ex-Garlean conscript, struggled temporarily, wind knocked out of him, before angrily following pursuit, spare pistol <Live Free> brought out taking shots at the climbing cat-folk, who intelligibly utilized line-of-sight climbing alongside the mast’s with his heritage-expertise, forcing the gun-wielder to pursue, climbing up to the top with sheer agitation, this would be done in a duel-fashion now.

Atop the mast, where they’d wage their last-sequence as blood-brothers turned enemies. Sol finally arrives behind in his pursuit, seeing Captain more closely. He was unnerved, a deplorable golden-crest smile was on him, the markings of jolly, complete fulfillment, it always brought him anger. As if a Sun was looking beneath him, nothing he could do would discourage the heat, his traditional means to kill, erase, all left meaningless in pursuit. His brow twitched into a frown. That deviant-rogue staring across him spoke, “Thanks t’ ye mate. I found irreplaceable value in me. I’m afraid… I’ll b’ stealing n’ cucking ye, again of something. Could race to see who reaches ascension firstly or lastly there! Like ol’ times… But I’ve got t’ slay your dark-cloud, it’s cramping my vibes.” Candidly bringing back a memento, it’s like time-flowed back, to not-long-ago, they used to rock-paper-scissors for who rigged, or climbing up on the masts, doing contests to one-up another in brotherly competition. “Also – I’ve decided. I’ll become a King.” Calmness and overwhelming peace said with a matter-of-fact from the Scoundrel’s following words, after the storm-breeze howled.

Sol, overtaken by envy, frustratingly growled, “...Y-You can’t just decide that!” Where did this abundance of confidence come from? Teeth grinding and grating together blood rushing into his temple. His concentration was caught lacking and those winds nearly took him off balance, but Miqo'te remained perfectly still…

Energy shifted in an instantaneous, an explosiveness out-cried from Captain with a thunderous shout of his declaration. A Challenge against ALL of Destiny, Fate, anything in-between was committed, throughout the rumbling tides and passed air. “I’ll become King ov’ th’ LIVING!” A dream so far-above, outlandish, impossible echoed. Jolly laughter tantalizingly followed, against Sol’s ire, a splitting image of their own Founder was reminded. To know, Living is to understand the existence of infinity! There was no-one way to live. This particular Pirate knew this and had connection to everything that resided between the spectrum's, life to death, and was born from a Mother’s Light and Father’s Shadow. Be that as it may, he ambitiously stared at the path of transcendence. Unwavering determination highlighting his visage. Upon his crew and varied people across in adventuring, to most-natural or supernatural, soul’s encountered.  All uplifting and inspiring him to heights leaving their imprints, scars, traces upon his singular vessel, these were the stupendous keepsakes, to preserve! Wanting this stead. Survival was instinctual because this was his perceived ultimate treasure. A challenge traversed the realm, shaking with a bewilderment of unyielding certainty. An individual-cloaked frozen-between-time peered over to the skies and gave halt from galloping.

They who stood at the highest summit, a GIANT, woke from disruption. Hinted with Captain’s Presence, awakening. Enraged Sol, lashed out in foul spite, fear, quivering and whining jealousy, “Nonsense. Die, Die, Die!” Pulling his trigger, reloading with rapid-fire, pupils went bloodshot from crazed-fury. The amber-eye, determined Seeker, predicted the trajectory of every fired-shot just by familiarizing Sol’s aim, countering by sliding against bullets with his dual-blades shield, deflecting and parrying him, to having them shred against his flesh in minor grazes, fearlessness, continued forth closing distance. Where Sol was useless in. They battled akin to this when pint-sized deckhands, back then using bb-guns or slingshots versus wooden kendo, this entire scene felt like reversed-time. Captain with a blade-rising upwardly in the air, spun his blade with realignment allowing glaring-rays, letting what all others were seeing. Sunlight had broken throughout the canopies of those undesirable clouds, vanquishing them. His steel-reflecting light, brought a blindness causing the Raen to misfire, his last shot in the chamber, the Seeker predicting this response, taking advantage of his discombobulated state, gave a devastating cross-slash against the Raen’s bare-chest, secondary dual-strike following-through with momentum to strike his gun-slinging wrist, forcing a disarming in one flawless-swoop.

♫Undefeatable♫ - Reference - Last Chapter

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander

Taran wanted to be a hero, and looking after a pig wasn't exactly heroic, even though Hen Wen was an oracular pig. But the day that Hen Wen vanished, Taran was led into an enchanting and perilous world. With his band of followers, he confronted the Horned King and his terrible Cauldron-Born. These were the forces of evil, and only Hen Wen knew the secret of keeping the kingdom of Prydain safe from them. But who would find her first?

The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White

Louie is very popular. Who wouldn't love a swan who can read, write, and play the trumpet? When Louie goes to camp, he meets a boy named A.G. who doesn't like birds, and since Louie is a bird, that means he doesn't like Louie. When A.G. pulls a dangerous stunt out on the lake, he realizes that Louie is a hero, after all.

My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George

Every kid thinks about running away at one point or another; few get farther than the end of the block. Young Sam Gribley gets to the end of the block and keeps going--all the way to the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. There he sets up house in a huge hollowed-out tree, with a falcon and a weasel for companions and his wits as his tool for survival. In a spellbinding, touching, funny account, Sam learns to live off the land, and grows up a little in the process. Blizzards, hunters, loneliness, and fear all battle to drive Sam back to city life. But his desire for freedom, independence, and adventure is stronger. No reader will be immune to the compulsion to go right out and start whittling fishhooks and befriending raccoons.

The Black Stallion by Walter Farley

Alec Ramsay is the sole human survivor of a devastating shipwreck. Trapped on a deserted island, Alec finds his only companion is a horse, beautiful, unbroken, and savage . . . a horse whose beauty matches his wild spirit.

The Magisterium by Holly Black and Cassandra Clare

All his life, Call has been warned by his father to stay away from magic. To succeed at the Iron Trial and be admitted into the vaunted Magisterium school would bring bad things. But he fails at failing. Only hard work, loyal friends, danger, and a puppy await.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

Twelve-year-old Addie admires her older sister Meryl, who aspires to rid the kingdom of Bamarre of gryphons, specters, and ogres. Addie, on the other hand, is fearful even of spiders and depends on Meryl for courage and protection. Waving her sword Bloodbiter, the older girl declaims in the garden from the heroic epic of Drualt to a thrilled audience of Addie, their governess, and the young sorcerer Rhys.

But when Meryl falls ill with the dreaded Gray Death, Addie must gather her courage and set off alone on a quest to find the cure and save her beloved sister. Addie takes the seven-league boots and magic spyglass left to her by her mother and the enchanted tablecloth and cloak given to her by Rhys - along with a shy declaration of his love. She prevails in encounters with tricky specters (spiders too) and outwits a wickedly personable dragon in adventures touched with romance and a bittersweet ending.

Bunnicula by Deborah and James Howe

Before it's too late, Harold the dog and Chester the cat must find out the truth about the newest pet in the Monroe household -- a suspicious-looking bunny with unusual habits... and fangs!

Beka Cooper by Tamora Pierce

Beka Cooper is a rookie with the law-enforcing Provost's Guard, commonly known as "the Provost's Dogs," in Corus, the capital city of Tortall. To the surprise of both the veteran "Dogs" and her fellow "puppies," Beka requests duty in the Lower City. The Lower City is a tough beat. But it's also where Beka was born, and she's comfortable there.

Beka gets her wish. She's assigned to work with Mattes and Clary, famed veterans among the Provost's Dogs. They're tough, they're capable, and they're none too happy about the indignity of being saddled with a puppy for the first time in years. What they don't know is that Beka has something unique to offer. Never much of a talker, Beka is a good listener. So good, in fact, that she hears things that Mattes and Clary never could - information that is passed in murmurs when flocks of pigeons gather ... murmurs that are the words of the dead.

In this way, Beka learns of someone in the Lower City who has overturned the power structure of the underworld and is terrorizing its citizens into submission and silence. Beka's magical listening talent is the only way for the Provost's Dogs to find out the identity of this brutal new underlord, for the dead are beyond fear. And the ranks of the dead will be growing if the Dogs can't stop a crime wave the likes of which has never been seen. Luckily for the people of the Lower City, the new puppy is a true terrier!

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

In the kingdom of Ayortha, who is the fairest of them all? Certainly not Aza. She is thoroughly convinced that she is ugly. What she may lack in looks, though, she makes up for with a kind heart, and with something no one else has-a magical voice. Her vocal talents captivate all who hear them, and in Ontio Castle they attract the attention of a handsome prince - and a dangerous new queen.

Trickster's Duology by Tamora Pierce

Alianne is the teenage daughter of the famed Alanna, the first lady knight in Tortall. Young Aly follows in the quieter footsteps of her father, however, delighting in the art of spying. When she is captured and sold as a slave to an exiled royal family in the faraway Copper Islands, it is this skill that makes a difference in a world filled with political intrigue, murderous conspiracy, and warring gods.

[didherodown]

Didherodown's Official Danny Phantom episode recommendations

(for the fan who has never seen the series but is in the phandom)

Ordered in sequence of release (taken from imdb, so take that as you will)

Very Important episodes will be noted like this Episodes I think are fun and kinda important like this

enjoy!

Season 1: Has a lot of groundwork for the show, lots of introductions to our cast of Ghosts

Mystery Meat - E1

Where it all started, establishes Sam and Tuckers rivalry over food, our first encounter with the Lunch Lady, and Danny’s first outing as a hero in general

Episodes 2-6 : feature introductions to Dora, Skulker, Technus, Point Dexter, and Desiree 

Bitter Reunions - E7

Our introduction to Vlad! Establishes Vlad vs Danny dynamic, Vlad's hate of Jack and his obsession with Maddie

Prisoners of Love - E8 is our intro to Walker

My Brothers Keeper - E9

Spectra makes her appearance! Shows a lot of Danny’s insecurities he has about being different, an outsider, ect.  And Jazz finds out Danny's identity!

Shades of Gray - E10 

Our first meeting of Valerie, and where her life gets ruined by Cujo!

Fanning the Flames - E11 is our intro to Ember

Maternal Instincts - E17 

Vlad is up to his scheming and tries to get both Danny and Maddie to join him and abandon Jack. (Introduces the Specter Deflector gadget, as well the the Plasmius Maximus)

The Million Dollar Ghost - E19

Vlad puts a bounty on Danny Phantom, making lots and lots of ghost hunters show up- including the GIW

Control Freaks - E20

Circus Gothica! The ringmaster- Freakshow- has a staff that he uses to control ghosts and Danny of course falls victim 

Season 2: Has a lot of bangers- and is very heavy in the Danny Lore AND where a lot of fannon comes from (ghost king, trans danny, pharaoh tuck, ect)

Reign Storm - E4

In which Pariah Dark is awoken and goes on a rampage, sucking Amity Park into the Ghost zone. With the other ghosts also terrified of the Ghost King, Danny might be the only who has a chance to stop him (ghost king danny anyone????)

The Ultimate Enemy - E6

Danny cheats on a test, which we find out actually will end the world. Our introduction to Clockwork and the Eyeball Guys(™). And of course, Danny’s future evil self- Dan !!

King Tuck - E7

Where Tucker gets influenced by Hotep-Ra (origin of the Pharaoh Tucker fannon)

Identity Crisis - E8

Where we learn that simply splitting Danny from his ghost half is not an option, his ghost half is indeed half of him

Flirting with Disaster - E11

Where Danny and Valerie are dating. In this episode her original ghost fighting suit is destroyed and Technus makes her a new version- leading to lots of fannon about Valerie being a little more ghost than she thought

Kindred Spirits - E14

Cloning! Danielle! AHHHHHHH!!!! (trans Danny? All but confirmed /hj)

Reality Trip - E17

Where Freakshow is searching for the stones of the Reality Gauntlet (very reminiscent of the Infinity Gauntlet from Marvel)

Season 3: Often the most criticized of the three seasons, the show was canceled in this season. BUT THERE IS SO MUCH IMPORTANT LORE IN THIS ONE LETS GO

Infinite Realms - E2

Our first meeting with Frostbite! Also tells us a lot about how natural portals work AND the introduction of blood blossoms

Torrent of Terror - E4

Introduces Vortex, also Danny's mood affects the weather for a good part of this episode

Urban Jungle - E6

Undergrowth has taken over amity, making Sam his “Queen” because of her love and care of plants. THIS IS WHERE WE FIRST SEE DANNY’S ICE POWERS! AND WE LEARN ABOUT CORES! YES REALLY ONLY 6 EPISODES FROM THE END

Boxed Up Fury - E8

The Box ghost, upset at not being taken seriously- steals Pandora's Box, and well, that goes about as good as you imagine it going

D-Stablized - E11

Dani is literally dissolving into ectoplasm, and Danny has to find a way to save her before she destabilizes all the way. (Introduces Ecto Dejecto- a fanfic staple)

Now this is just my personal list- based on 20 years of being in this fandom (holy shit how can it be that long????)

Thanks for reading :)

[talkingaboutwhatiwant]

Got any cool Nevermore theories?

Using this question as an excuse to continue theorizing/mindless babbling.

"you'll be bones by sunrise" is a yummy little quote from our favorite apathetic bird. While for quite a while I was under the impression that Lenore wouldn't get her specter until the end of the series, but unless the entirety of S2 will consist of the one night, she might get it earlier. I have a hard time believing that the raven will be proven wrong in some capacity, so I see this as us being told that Lenore will get her specter, perhaps the raven's quote directly telling us she'll be a skeleton of some sort.

The passage to the land of the living. I'm not entirely sure why the gang can't just use their spectres to make the journey, maybe they can and they haven't thought about it (especially considering our heroine hasn't gotten hers yet) but nevertheless it seems like a good plot point and the rational way to get to the end.

I also wonder if any students have "recharged" enough to use their spectres, and if that'd help then against the wild hunt. Annabelle is shown in the finale very much so I'm danger, and Lenore wasn't exactly in a position to swoop in and save her.

The Curse

I've seen a lot of people theorizing that the stag is Leo, more specifically his spectre, so most of this ramble is going to be based on that idea. First off, if the stag is Leo's spectre, he likely has to constantly be in that form to keep from being eaten (to go with my assumption that spectres can't be eaten by the creatures running about) so ... how? The deans vaguely put out this idea that they and Nevermore as an academy are the ones that give the students the ability to "unlock" their spectres, but I don't support this idea. It's possible that the academy actually dampens the abilities of spectres, explaining how Theo could retain his for so long. The raven says something about the passage into new life being safe in the past, but also correlating to the creatures starving now, which seems to contradict as we don't know what the creatures eat, besides half-dead humans. Somehow the academy ruined the ecosystem, but only left predators? I don't know. I like to assume that the ecosystem involved the creatures feeding off of the traveling spirits, but not the ones who developed their spectres. The orbs present at the beginning of the series can't ALL be from Nevermore mishaps of past, right? Perhaps the reason Leo even is living as a spectre is he found out something about the deans and fled, perhaps growing enough strength with his spectre to retain it long enough to learn "the good old fashioned way" if you will, how to permanently retain it.

Another Leo theory is that he won the new life (as the deans said he was at the top of his class), and came back as one of these creatures. We're under the impression with the "second chance at life" statement that it means picking up where they left off in a Ride The Cyclone-esque way, but I don't like that idea so I'm choosing not to believe it. Besides my hate for the trope, the history of the dead traveling to the land of the living implies a reincarnation system, otherwise there'd be centuries of immortals to speak of. Perhaps Leo won the second chance, and had the rotten enough luck (perhaps from the "curse" that I don't really believe in but that's a different rant) to come back as one of these nightmarish creatures.

Annabelle and her spectre!!

I have a LOT of feelings about Annabelle and her spectre, so I'm going to try my best to make this readable.

First off, I don't believe that one can have a fake spectre, and while Annabelle had a memory planted that caused her to get hers, there must be enough truth to it. The deans are powerful, but I see spectres as an ancient mechanism, older than the Raven, (Supporting my theory that spirits used to develop their spectres on their own) and impossible to fake. Annabelle was killed before she was to be wed (the only way a lady in white can be) maybe she and Lenore got found out and were killed together, or something happened and they made a suicide pact of sorts (this one I'm not super fond of, but it makes some sense to me so I'm putting it in). It's also possible that in her spectral form, she has a deeper understanding, whether a subconscious thought, feeling, or something else entirely. Her and Lenore's situation is so unique and complex that many things are possible here, we just don't know.

It's important to note that these are loose theories without research, just my mind making connections for entertainment. Let me know if y'all agree, disagree, or have something to add on! Thanks for reading this far

[yoyomomiko]

[TWO] — The haunted shed

☆ `` SPECTRAL SCAMMERS ``

☆ — summary: when cartman comes up with yet another 'get rich quick' scheme, he forces his friends, and you, into starting a ghost hunting service. armed with a mix of makeshift equipment, a questionable van and no actual skills, you begin taking jobs to "exorcise" haunted houses.

warnings: strong language, cartman being cartman

(a/n): it's so short and it feels pretty bland, but I'll try to get better and make the chapters longer :(( also, it looks like there's no ghosts in this chapter! at least for now.

wc: 2.7k+

★m.list

★series m.list

<- [PREVIOUS] — [NEXT] -> (uncompleted)

The next day, you all met in Cartman's basement, which now served as your official 'Specter Squad Headquarters'. Cartman paced in front of the whiteboard, still scribbled with your chaotic business plan, a smirk glued to his face.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." He began, pausing for a dramatic effect. "We have our first job!"

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, except for Tweek, who was already trembling.

"Who's the poor sucker?" Stan asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Cartman waved his phone in the air proudly. "My mom's friend's neighbor. Apparently, their shed is haunted by some ghostly menace. Creepy noises, things getting knocked over, the whole paranormal package!"

Kyle frowned sitting on the edge of the couch with his arms resting on his knees. "Let me guess. You told them we'd take care of it for a ridiculous amount of money?"

"$50." Cartman replied with a smug look on his face.

"Fifty bucks for a shed?!" Kyle repeated, eyes wide.

"Hey, ghost insurance isn't cheap." Cartman shot back. "Do you even know how much ectoplasm containment costs? Exactly. I'm giving them a good deal."

You snorted, leaning back on the couch. "More like you're scamming them. What's next, charging a consultation fee?"

"That's not a bad idea..." Cartman muttered, trailing off as he mentally added it to his list.

Stan sighed. "Alright, so what's the plan? Just show up, wave a flashlight around and hope no one notices we're full of crap?"

"Uh, no, Stan." Cartman replied, rolling his eyes. "We need equipment. Real ghost hunting tools! If we show up empty handed, we'll look like amateurs."

"We are amateurs." Craig pointed out, but Cartman ignored him.

...

Within minutes, you all had rummaged through the basement for anything that could count as equipment. Flashlights were passed around, most of them barely functioning, as Cartman dragged a vacuum cleaner from a corner.

"This." He started, holding it up. "Is our spirit vacuum. It sucks up ghosts and traps them inside."

"That's literally just a vacuum." You stared at Cartman, crossing your arms.

"Not anymore." Cartman declared with a smirk, sticking a few glow in the dark star stickers on its side. "Now it's paranormal tech. You're welcome!"

"This is so stupid." Kyle groaned, running a hand down his face.

"You're stupid!" Cartman snapped. "But guess what? The customers don't care. They just want results. And results are exactly what we're gonna give them. Fake or not!"

You grabbed one of the flashlights, testing it's weak glow before glancing at Kyle. "You think this thing's gonna last the night?"

"Not a chance." Kyle shook his head, the corners of his lips tugging upwards, forming a faint smile.

His gaze was fixed on you for a moment longer than necessary as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, lovebirds!" Cartman interrupted, snapping his fingers in your direction. "Save the awkward flirting for later. We've got ghosts to catch!"

"We weren't-" You quickly spoke up, but Cartman was already moving on.

.

.

.

The group assembled just outside the neighbor's picked fence. Cartman stood at the front with his back straightened and a clipboard in hand.

"Alright, listen up." He began, his voice hushed. "This is our first gig, so we're going to nail it. No screw ups, no whining, and definitely no blowing our cover."

"Cover? You mean the fact that we're not actual ghost hunters?" Stan raised an eyebrow.

Cartman glared at him. "Exactly. So shut up and follow my lead." He turned back to face the house, his face lighting up with smug confidence.

You all exchanged glances but followed him up the driveway anyway. You stayed close to Kyle, who was mumbling under his breath.

"This is going to be a disaster." He muttered, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Probably." You agreed, giving him a small smile. "At least it'll be entertaining, right?"

"You have a weird definition of 'entertaining'." Kyle glanced at you, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

Before you could respond, Cartman knocked loudly on the front door. A moment later, it creaked open to reveal a middle aged woman with dark circles under her eyes.

"Thank goodness you're here!" She exclaimed. "It's been awful! Just awful!"

"Ma'am, you made the right choice calling the Specter Squad. We're South Park's best paranormal investigators, and we're here to solve your ghost problem." Cartman faked a professional tone, which wasn't really convincing.

"Oh, I just don't know what's in that shed. Every night, I hear the strangest noises... Scratching, banging, sometimes even growling... It's terrifying!"

"Sounds like raccoons..." Kyle muttered under his breath.

Cartman elbowed him sharply, giving the woman a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, ma'am. We've dealt with worse. Now let's talk about payment..."

"Payment?" The woman blinked, caught off guard as her brows raised in surprise.

"Of course! Ghost hunting isn't cheap, you know. We've got specialized equipment, years of experience-"

"Years?" Clyde interrupted, but Cartman ignored him.

"And we offer a guarantee of satisfaction. For a case like this, we'll charge a base fee of $50."

"Alright... Fifty... But only if you can get rid of whatever's out there." She hesitated, looking towards each of you in the group.

"Deal!" Cartman exclaimed, sticking out his hand. She shook it hesitantly before leading the group around the side of the house and into the backyard.

.

.

The shed came into view, at the far end of the yard. It was old, its wooden walls splintered, with rusted hinges hanging off the door.

Cartman took a deep breath, clipboard clutched to his chest. "Alright, this is it. Stan, [Y/N], you investigate the area. Kyle, you're with me. Clyde and Kenny, guard the door. Craig, Tweek- uh... Just stand there and look useful."

"This is a bad i-idea! What if it's not a ghost?! What if it's like, a demon or something?!" Tweek panicked, fidgeting nervously.

"It's not a demon." Craig replied flatly, but even he looked a bit uneasy.

You and Stan both glanced at each other as you both began walking around the shed, flashlights in hand.

"So... What do you think we're actually dealing with here?" You asked as you waved your flashlight around.

"Probably racoons." Stan answered with a shrug. "But knowing Cartman, he'll find a way to make it sound like a ghost."

"That sounds about right." You smiled softly.

On the other side, Cartman was crouched, pretending to examine the ground. Kyle stood nearby, arms crossed as he had a tired expression on his face.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Kyle asked as he sighed loudly.

"Ectoplasmic traces." Cartman replied, nodding to himself.

"You don't even know what that means." Kyle ran a hand over his face, sighing for the nth time that day.

"Shut up Jew! I know what I'm doing."

Kyle rolled his eyes but gazed at you when your flashlight beam caught something shining in the grass.

"What's that?" He asked, walking over to join you.

You bent down and picked up the small, glinting object. A broken piece of metal that looked like it had come from the shed's roof.

"Probably nothing." You responded as you held it up for him to see.

He leaned closer, his face inches away from yours.

"Still, good eye."

You felt heat rushing up to your cheeks, but before you could say something, Cartman's voice cut through your sweet moment.

"Alright, idiots! Enough playing around. Let's get inside and find this ghost!"

...

The shed's door creaked loudly as you pushed it open, earning a whimper from Tweek. Your flashlight glow cut through the dark, revealing cobweb, scattered tools and a floor with littered leaves. You quickly turned off your flashlight as you looked away from the sight.

"Alright assholes, try not to screw up." Cartman declared, clipboard in hand as he gestured towards the shed.

"We have to act professional!" He whisper yelled, eyes narrowing.

"How professional can we look with a broken vacuum and dollar store flashlights?" Craig muttered, but his words were drowned by Cartman's loud, fake cough.

"Why do I feel like this is going to be a disaster?" Clyde mumbled, rubbing his arms for warmth.

"It's always a disaster when Cartman's in charge." Kyle replied in a dry tone.

You smirked, catching the way Kyle's gaze studied the shed. He glanced at you, his eyes softening, though only for a moment, the tension in the air didn't feel so heavy.

"Are we doing this or not?" Craig asked impatiently as he crossed his arms.

"Yes, Craig, we're doing this. But first, we need to assert dominance!" Cartman sighed out in an exaggerated way.

"Dominance?" You repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I like how that sounds." Kenny snickered, and so did Clyde as he nudged Kenny's shoulder.

"You don't just walk into a ghost's lair! You have to show it who's boss!" Cartman pointed at the shed dramatically.

"We're ghost hunters, not wrestlers." Stan stated as Craig chuckled.

Ignoring him, Cartman turned to the neighbor, who was watching nervously from her back porch.

"Ma'am, we're going in. We've got this under control." Cartman spoke up confidently.

"Please... Just be careful." The woman clutched her cardigan tightly as she nodded. "It's been making horrible noise lately."

"No worries, we'll take care of it. By the way, there's a $10 fee for ghost insurance in case it tries to follow us home."

"Ghost insurance?" Kyle repeated, squinting his eyes at Cartman.

"Do you want to get haunted, Kyle? Didn't think so." Cartman shot him a glare.

...

The group gathered their supplies, which were only some barely working flashlights, an old vacuum cleaner Cartman had given the title of 'Spirit Sucker 3000', and a few random tools from Clyde's garage.

"I still don't understand how this is supposed to work..." Tweek muttered, holding his flashlight like it might explode.

"It works because I said it works." Cartman replied, adjusting the vacuum strap on his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes and turned on your flashlight again. The shed wasn't particularly big, but the barely standing wood made it seem more sinister. Plus the cobwebs, creepy old tools and leaves left on the floor.

"Let's just get this over with." Craig sighed as he stepped up to the door.

"Hold up! The leader goes first!" Cartman held up a hand to stop him.

"You're not the leader." Kyle shot back.

"Yes, I am!" Cartman snapped. "I made the website, I set up the payment system, and I'm the only one here who isn't a total pussy!"

"Fine. Go ahead, fearless leader." Craig mocked.

Cartman smirked as he confidently pushed the door further and stepped inside.

...

The air inside was heavy and barely breatheable, carrying the scent of mold and rotting wood. Your flashlight flickered as you swept it across the space, revealing shelves packed with rusted tools and boxes stacked carelessly.

"Wow..." Kenny's eyes scanned the area. "This place is charming."

"Spread out, assholes! We're looking for signs of paranormal activity!" Cartman waved his clipboard dramatically.

"What exactly counts as a sign?" Stan asked as he stares at a random jar with unidentifiable substances.

"Anything spooky." Cartman answered simply. "Weird sounds, cold spots, glowing slime... You know, ghost stuff."

"You're making this up as you go, aren't you?" Kyle groaned.

"Shut up, Kyle! Do your job!" Cartman yelled.

You held back a laugh as Kyle mumbled something under his breath. When he caught your eye, his gaze softened, giving you a small smile that made your heart pound in your chest.

...

You all explored different corners of the shed, examining and looking out for 'spooky stuff'.

You crouched near a stack of boxes, brushing away cobwebs to get a closer look. The wood beneath your fingers felt slightly wet and splintered. You noticed a faint light coming from above.

"Hey..." You called out, shining your flashlight towards the roof, standing up. "There's a hole up here."

Kyle joined you, squinting up at the opening. "That could explain the noises. If wind's getting in, it might make the walls creak."

"Or it could be the ghost's escape route." Cartman interrupted, scribbling something on his clipboard.

"Pretty sure ghosts don't need escape routes." You sighed.

Cartman ignored you, turning his attention to a nearby workbench.

Kyle stood by your side, tilting his head thoughtfully as he examined the roof. "Good catch." He praised, his voice quieter now.

"Thanks." You replied, smiling to yourself like an idiot as you felt your cheeks warm up.

All of the sudden, a loud crash echoed from the back of the shed.

"What was that?!" Tweek yelped, clutching his flashlight like a weapon.

"Relax." Kenny spoke up, moving towards the source of the noise. "It's probably just-"

His words cut off as he stumbled upon a crate.

Kenny crouched down, shining his flashlight on the wooden box. It was old and had a loose lid that looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

"What do you think's in it?" Clyde asked, creeping over Stan's shoulder.

"Only one way to find out." Kenny replied, slowly taking the lid off.

Inside was a trio of small and furry bodies. Wide eyes reflected the flashlight glow as tiny claws scratched against the wood.

"Aww, raccoons!" Kenny cooed as he pouted. "They're adorable!"

"They're so cute!" You purred as you admired them. They were so small and it could fit perfectly in your palm!

"I wanna pet them." Kenny said as he reached out to pick one up.

The once cuddly creatures now hissed loudly, lounging at him with surprising speed.

Kenny screeched, stumbling backwards as the raccoon latched onto his sleeve.

The other two raccoons bolted from the crate, darting across the shed.

"Jesus Christ!" Stan yelled, jumping out of the way.

"Get it off! Get it off me!" Kenny screamed, waving his arm around crazily as the raccoon kept clinging onto his sleeve.

"Stop moving!" You shouted, grabbing a broom and trying to swat the raccoon away. It hissed at you, revealing its sharp teeth.

Another raccoon climbed onto a shelf, knocking over jars and sending their contents crashing to the floor. Tweek jumped onto a crate to avoid the mess, grabbing at his hair.

"Where are they coming from?!" Cartman swung his flashlight around wildly.

"They're everywhere!" Craig noted, dodging another raccoon as it ran past him.

"We need to get them out of here!" Kyle tried to block one of the raccoons' paths.

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Stan yelled, ducking as another jar flew above his head.

"Loud noises!" Cartman quickly grabbed a rusty pot from a workbench. "Scare them out!"

You didn't have a better idea, so you grabbed a pan and started banging it against the broom handle. The others quickly followed, grabbing tools and smashing them into anything, clangs echoing through the shed.

Tweek kept flinching at the loud noise, but he also followed and helped the rest.

The raccoons screeched in protest, before finally rushing out the hole in the roof.

"Victory!" Cartman shouted proudly, slamming his pot.

You lowered your makeshift drumstick, panting from the effort. Kyle was standing beside you, his face flushed.

"Nice work." He nudged your shoulder lightly.

"Not bad yourself..." You replied, smiling despite what just happened.

.

.

You all stumbled out of the shed, disheveled but successful. The neighbor was waiting in the yard, fidgeting nervously.

"Well? Did you get rid of it?" She asked, nibbling on her bottom lip.

Cartman puffed out his chest, clipboard in hand. "It was a tough case." He started dramatically. "But yes, the ghost has been banished. You're welcome."

"Oh, thank you!" She exclaimed, reaching out for her wallet.

"Now, about the payment..." Cartman stopped her, holding up a finger. "It was an agressive spirit, so we're charging an extra $10 for chaos pay."

The woman hesitated but handed over the cash either way.

As you all walked away, Cartman grinned joyfully, stuffing the money into his pocket.

"First job: complete. We're officially ghost hunters, bitches!"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Bruce Wayne (Beyond)

A lifetime of crimefighting took its tole on Bruce Wayne, both in body and spirit.  By his sixties, Bruce continued to operate as Batman protecting the streets of Gotham.  He utilized a bionically enhanced suit to compensate for his advanced age and waning physicality.  Many of his colleagues had passed away or retired and those who had not were long since alienated by Bruce’s myopic obsession to his never ending mission.  

He experienced a heart attack while saving a hostage and, in a moment of desperation, he nearly used a discarded gun to shoot an attacker.  Taking a life was antithetical to all that he stood for and the shock of almost having done so was enough to convince Bruce that it was finally time to retire.  As such, he hung up his suit, shut down the Batcave and all but disappeared from the world.  The specter of Batman faded into a myth.

He lived in seclusion for many years, holed up in Wayne Manner with no one but his dog for company.  And it would have remained that way had fate not intervened.  Young Terry McGinnis happened upon Wayne Manner while investigating the murder of his father.  Headstrong and persistent, Terry discovered Bruce’s secret, that he had once been the legendary Batman.  The youth ended up stealing the enhanced batsuit and using it in his effort to avenge his father.  Bruce tried to stop him, yet something had been set in motion that was not going to stop.  Gotham still needed a Batman and the world was not done with Bruce Wayne.  

Working together, Bruce and Terry became the new Batman, a ‘Tomorrow Knight’ who brought justice back to Gotham; with Terry in the field and Bruce providing support and guidance from the reactivated Batcave.  And while Bruce aided Terry in learning to become a superhero, so too did Terry aid Bruce, helping him in healing old wounds and reconnecting with the world.  Bruce reconciled with his former colleagues, Barbara Gordon and Tim Drake, as also seized back control of his company from the corporate vultures who had taken it from him.  

Bruce had been a surrogate father to many individuals: Barbara, Tim and Dick Grayson; and was doing so again with Terry.  Ironically, it would later be revealed that Terry was actually his biological son as well.  A furtive plan arranged by Amanda Waller resulted in Terry’s mother being secretly impregnated with Bruce’s genetic material.  

This revelation was a shock to them both and it acted to motivate Bruce to encourage Terry to seek out the happiness that had always eluded him.  The mission was important, but not all that was important and a life of singular focus ultimately leads to regret.  

Ultimately Terry chose to marry his longtime love, Dana Tan.  He would never be as great a Batman as his father, but he would be a happier man with a more fulfilling life.  And what more could a father want for his son?

The immortal Kevin Conroy provided the voice for Bruce Wayne with this older iteration of the hero first appearing int he premier episode of Batman Beyond.     

[infinite-riches]

I Was Good Until I Turned Thirteen

Summary: At twenty-five I found god. And guilt. He was tall, broad, well-built. Blonde hair and blonde lashes that framed whiskey-colored eyes so perfectly. He was my dream. And my nightmare. Crushing guilt crashed over me. Unnatural. Unholy. Disgusting. Despicable.

Or: Soap struggles with his religion

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

Word Count: 666

Warnings: Catholic guilt, implied/referenced homophobia, implied/referenced abuse, implied/referenced oral sex, internalized homophobia

A/N: This piece pulls heavily from my experience with religion and the thoughts I struggled with growing out of religion and into my queerness.

To anyone who relates please know you are seen and accepted and loved. Ancient religious texts or backward ideologies do not define you.

You can find me on twitter @Kit_Marlowe1564 if you need someone to talk to.

All my love <3

AO3 Link (if you prefer): I Was Good Until I Turned Thirteen

I was good until I turned thirteen. Then, something started to change. I am not sure exactly when. Or why. 

It must have just been the growth that comes with change. 

The good book didn’t mean as much to me anymore. I had questions I never had before. Questions I never would have dared ask before. Questions I am sure damned my thirteen-year-old self to hell. 

Fourteen showed me the depths of human cruelty. I didn’t think we were supposed to pray against our fellow man. At night I cried and tried to soothe my soul. If they could be so cruel to strangers, what would they do to me? Would they cast stones as their ancestors did? Would they cast me out?

I think at fifteen I stopped trying to save myself from hell. It's not that I didn’t care, but it seemed that an unchangeable part of me would always be damned. And who am I to fight an unstoppable event? I am not burdened as Sisyphus is. I do not have to bear punishment every day for the simple act of existing. I can choose not to suffer. 

By sixteen I was scared of the joy and freedom I felt without a faceless god breathing down my neck. This freedom terrified me. This is when I started to find people like me. We lived quietly, taking care of our own, helping each other through the pain. If people knew what I had learned of myself… I never let that thought finish. 

Seventeen faced me with a choice. I chose to run. Legal name signed on crisp white paper. A new home address assigned to me. Pulled far apart from my family. Like Velcro, pulling until I came completely untethered from those I had always known. 

Eighteen. I was on my own. No one knew me here. For the first time, I could breathe. 

At nineteen I stumbled headfirst into a mistake. Gnashing teeth and strong grips. Harsh words and desperation. I was searching for a god where I could never find one. God would not wear down my spirit so. At least… not my god. My god would accept me. Love me. 

Twenty felt like a mistake. Kneeling felt sacrilegious. Receiving them upon my tongue like communion felt like betrayal. There were not enough Hail Marys to save my soul. 

Twenty-one through twenty-four was life. Or at least what I thought life should be. There always seemed to be a shadow looming over me. Disgusted glances. Hate-filled words. Maybe I had made a mistake. Maybe god was coming back to claim what once was his. 

At twenty-five I found god. And guilt. He was tall, broad, well-built. Blonde hair and blonde lashes that framed whiskey-colored eyes so perfectly. He was my dream. And my nightmare. Crushing guilt crashed over me. Unnatural. Unholy. Disgusting. Despicable. 

Johnny.

At twenty-six I let myself be free. I turned to this faceless specter torturing me with empty threats and banished it. My god loved Kentucky bourbon and awful jokes. His touch was like fire and his words a cooling balm to my burning soul. He worshiped me. 

I gladly fell to my knees in worship of him. Took him upon my tongue as the blessing it was. I had no need for Hail Marys, he saved my soul with every breath. 

Johnny.

So beautiful.

Lover.

My dove.

Mine. 

And I worshipped him.

Simon.

So handsome. 

Darling.

My love.

Mine. 

And he knows. The little ‘RC’ still adorns my tags. The cross my mother gave me still hangs heavy around my neck- a noose I can not bear to take off.

And when the guilt threatens to overtake me? To drown me? He is there, pulling me from the waves. Telling me that there is no shame here, where it is safe, between us. 

And one day, the flames will not bother me at all. But for now, I know my god will be there to tend the burns. 

[girlwithhat]

I must be truly in the fandom now after I surprised myself by writing a Granada fic over the course of the weekend!

TITLE: Beloved's Ghost

SUMMARY: After Holmes' death at the Falls, Watson falls gravely ill while working nonstop through his grief. He’s visited in his feverish state by Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft, and…Sherlock Holmes?

NOTES: I think either Watson works for this - depends on when during the hiatus you place it. When writing, my mind started off with David Burke at the beginning but then ended with Edward Hardwicke.

In the weeks following Holmes’ untimely death, once I moved out of our Baker Street rooms, I threw myself into work against my better judgement, giving all my care to my patients and saving none for myself. Expectedly, one can only survive on tea, toast, and willpower for a short time before the weight of grief and exhaustion comes calling. The weather as of late had aggravated my old wounds compounded with exposure to patients plagued by fever and respiratory distress day in and day out. Falling ill swiftly, I was in such a terrible way that I was found slumped over my desk in my consulting room, mumbling whether I should have gone over the falls as well.

Though I slipped in and out of consciousness much during this prolonged illness, I was comforted by the fact that I was not as alone as I believed. I could count on seeing Lestrade; he read the newspaper and commented on cases that he wished Holmes and I could have assisted on. Sometimes Mycroft Holmes deviated from his routine to sit in silence that ranged from awkward to companionable for I knew his love for his deceased brother made his presence at my bedside a duty. Though I was no longer her tenant, Mrs. Hudson still insisted on fussing over me, bringing fortifying broth and extra blankets to my room above my surgery. Dr. Moore Agar made sure I was a compliant patient and administered sleeping draughts to ensure I received sufficient rest.

In between these familiar visits, I saw him. It was always the same: someone I did not recognize would stand by my bedside, blow the candles out, then become him with a worried look, a gentle touch, maybe a sigh before disappearing yet again. I must have been close to death to have my dear Holmes in my presence at those times.

“My dear Watson, do not leave me.” He said. This was the first time the spirit chose to speak to me in the darkness. A small candle illuminated half his face as he drew near.

“But you left me,” I murmured. Just his visage was enough to bring tears unbidden to my eyes tonight. Brave face discarded in my illness, the wounds of grief, tender still, threatened to open again at these appearances. I did not foresee them healing for a long time as his presence ever lingered.

A brush of cool fingers wiped away my tears. “Your current condition surprises me. There were hopes you were on the mend.”

“Still gripped by lethargy and despondency. Admittedly, my heart is more sick than my head,” said I, the truth coming to the surface in my delirium, “Your specter is both a comfort and a torture, Holmes.”

“A selfish act on my part. My continued weakness brings me here, to indulge the compulsion in the darkness. I fear I’ve caused you more pain, my devoted friend.”

“I fear the day when my mind ceases to conjure you up.”

“Truly? I would imagine it would be an improvement.”

“No no, but even then, my heart would keep you close.”

“Why?” He asked in a whisper. It was as if the ghost was having trouble understanding the depth of my attachment to the man he was.

“You know why. Forever my nearest and dearest…my Holmes."

“Nearest and dearest,” He repeated, reaching out to stroke my cheek tenderly, “I must go.”

“Must you?” 

“I…you will see me again. In time.”

As the emotion of this conversation took a toll on my depleted energy, I could feel the pull of slumber on my consciousness as my eyelids grew heavy. “Holmes..."

“Shhh…” I then felt the lightest touch of lips upon mine. “That is a promise.” 

I awoke sometime later feeling much better, my latest fever broken after having voiced my deepest feelings to the universe in the form of my beloved’s ghost. I knew Holmes would have been pleased he helped me regain my health in some capacity after all the times I looked after him. Once recovered, I resolved to take better care of myself. While his spirit brought me comfort, I did not desire to join Holmes so soon. I would see him again, in time. Till then, every night after my last patient, I would reverently read Holmes’ last letter framed in my consulting room, thinking back to his ghost’s kiss which felt so real.

[alto-tenure]

The Specter of Misthallery, allusions, and narrative framing

Professor Layton and the Last Specter alludes to the fact that, of course, this is not the first specter to have been in Misthallery -- the specter is, in fact, a much older fairytale, the nature of which is, just as with most folklore, impossible to verify.

The nature of fairytales is such that they often get distorted by those who are telling them, and then those distortions continue to be passed onwards to generations afterwards, and new distortions evolve. The way characters tell the story of Misthallery's specter tells us things about them, too, and the parts they play in the story.

Long ago, in a lawless age, a pack of bandits invaded a small village. Amidst the chaos, a terrified young farm girl played her flute to drown out the madness. As the music spiralled high into the sky, a giant spectre appeared above her. She begged the spectre to destroy the bandits and it swiftly obeyed. The town was saved, and the spectre vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. But the farm girl knew that in times of danger she needed only to play the flute and the spectre would appear again.

This is, of course, Descole's narration from his first appearance. He is taking advantage of the legend of the specter, and seems to be reading from a book during this cutscene.

The specter is unequivocally a force for good the way Descole words the tale. The specter is the girl's savior. It's a bit of intrigue, but also...the way it's portrayed here feels like a very obvious allusion to Arianna and Loosha, for which Loosha is very much Arianna's savior, getting her to the Golden Garden so that she can live. Descole also says after this that it's time for them to "pen the next chapter". He is using the myth of the specter on purpose to smokescreen his true intentions of unearthing the Golden Garden. He means neither to help the villagers or hurt them -- he only has his own agenda. Of course, this isn't the last we hear of this tale...

There's a legend here that tells of an ancient spirit… A specter. When the town was in danger, the specter would act as Misthallery's guardian in its moment of need.

This is how Clark tells the tale. Note its brevity compared to Descole's telling (or Luke's, later on). When the town is in danger, the specter acts to protect it. It is more general than Descole's telling, but is more in line with Luke's version of the events. His portrayal of the specter of lore is fairly bare-bones, but enough to understand that Descole's version is nothing more than a false echo. Something that he understands more than the people of Misthallery, considering that he knows more about the specter due to the blackmailing.

Long ago, the villagers used a flute to call upon a spectre for protection from their enemies… So, if the spectre does the bidding of whoever plays the flute… Then someone is trying to destroy Misthallery! "If the spectre is ever used for impure motives, it shall unleash its wrath upon humanity. It will destroy all in its path, creating its own paradise."

Luke's telling of the tale centers around the idea that the world will end if the specter is used to cause harm -- his telling fuses both ideas from Descole's (the flute is used to summon the specter and control it) and Clark's (the specter was there for the town at large, not for one specific person it was bonded to). This suggests that Luke is familiar with the version that appears in the book (after all, the book is likely from the Triton library), but he's filtering what he remembers through the lens of his anxieties around the specter attacks, his mother's disappearance, and his father's behavior. He expects the world to end because of the connection to the tale.

(And, of course, the connections to Azran Legacy can't be ignored here -- everything destroyed to carve out paradise for the villain of a story.)

The truth is, as always, a complicated affair -- there is no such things as specters, only machines fighting monsters -- but it is likely that the story started out with a specter that protects the village. The version in the book has probably gone through several layers of generational filtering, but its relevance to the narrative remains.

[shokuto]

District Zero / The Boys and the Keg

“Why’d you say Spider-Man was gonna be there?!” Miles asks sharply once he and Ganke are walking through the parking lot.

He shrugs, not even looking at him. “We were losing her; we needed a hook.”

“If partying in a big ass house nobody lives in isn’t enough of a hook, why bother? It’s only one girl.”

“It’s not one girl, it’s Amala Macendale!” Ganke reasons. “It’s her, her friends, and her friends’ friends. That’s huge!”

Miles rolls his eyes. His friend’s starting to sound like a club promoter. “I don’t think she has friends.”

“Of course she does, she’s like, student body president. How’d she get voted in if she doesn’t have—“

When they finally hit the minivan, Ganke freezes; there’s a liquor store across the street, and near the front door is a scuffed up metal case bearing a steel tap at the top. He quickly taps Miles’ shoulder with the hand not holding a plastic bag before he points at it.

“Dude, that’s a keg,” he gasps in astonishment.

Miles pauses before he can enter the car, blankly looking over the hood. “Of beer?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“…So what now?”

There’s a second where they both just stand there, gawking across the street. That’s when Ganke taps his shoulder again. “You gotta go grab it.”

Miles sighs again, already exasperated with the sudden turn of events. “Dude, no—”

“You’re the only one who can carry it!”

“That’s stealing,” he says firmly.

“So?” Ganke sets his hands on his shoulders with the urgency of a man begging a fireman to save his baby. “If we don’t have any beer at this thing, we’re gonna be losers forever! It’s one keg! They probably have a hundred more in the back and it’s only a matter of time before they bring it in!”

Miles exhales in annoyance, but considers Ganke’s warning more than he’d like. He’s split firmly between the selfish teenager his friend desperately appeals to, and the little boy inside him who’s internalized every repeated warning to not get into trouble, to follow every rule as closely as possible because there’d always be a book waiting to be thrown at him around every corner. He eyes the keg, then through the window of the store, the guy inside who presumably has to bring it in eventually.

And it is stealing.

But…

They’re throwing something big…and they’re not kids anymore. People their age going to parties don’t go to relax; they go to get fucked up. It’s all he hears and it’s all he sees in the movies.

They even got the red cups and everything now! Plastic cups Miles only now realizes were never gonna be filled with soda.

“It’s either this or we’re cooked,” Ganke pleads.

Quietly, Miles contemplates the lunch periods they’ve spent alone growing up. Every inside joke passed around set cliques that they weren’t a part of, and every classmate who ever took a shot at them or made their friendship out to be something weird ‘cause it was funny. ‘Cause guys like them were easy targets.

Some of those same people would probably be milling about the house Ganke’s mom had just closed the deal on, piss drunk on beer they brought and laughing madly beneath flashing lights they put up. There’s dozens of little jabs they’ve collected over the years, jabs that taught them it was better to keep to themselves lest they add up to even more down the line if nothing changed.

But he could practically see it all evaporate tonight, over music so loud they felt it in their bones and chants so spirited they could summon specters.

He even pictures himself sharing the tap with the pretty girl from homecoming, the one with a voice like silk and a rasp to it that reminded him of a bass string. However heartbroken he may be over Katie, he’s still embarrassingly weak for an easy smile. He’s still a guy.

A minute later, Miles is hefting a metal keg over his shoulder and bolting for the car like a fireman carrying an invalid to safety. His first ever five finger discount.

“Start it up, start it up!” He shouts.

The engine of the shabby old minivan growls to life just as Miles barrels into the backseat, immediately closing the door behind him.

Then they’re off.

“Holy shit,” Ganke gasps behind the wheel, breathing heavy like he was the one doing the running.

And despite himself, Miles feels himself joining in too. He can’t be bothered to drum up any possible theft charges, any tidbits from the stern talking to from his dad would give him if he saw. Instead, he visualizes the gated community of District Zero, lit up like Disneyland.

“This shit’s gonna be crazy,” He mutters warmly.

[gamerkitten]

Reunion

He had to be dead. 

Maybe he had caught a bullet from a lucky merc and this was his brain tormenting him in his last moments.

"Shepard?" 

"Garrus, is that you?"

She looked the same. Same dark hair, piled atop her head in a bun; sweat pasting escaped tendrils to her face. Her eyes were the same shade of amber, her face marred by a few scars but still sprinkled with freckles a slightly darker shade of brown then the rest of her skin.

But she was dead.

The message reaches him at home, on Palaven, his omni-tool beeping frantically. Seeing it's from Joker, he ignores it with a mental reminder to reply later. Right now, he's in the middle of cleaning his rifle.

"Garrus!"

His sister, Solana comes rushing into his room and he knows that something is wrong.

"Sol, what is it," he rises, leaning the gun against the wall, "is it mom?"

"Garrus," her voice is steady but her sub-vocals tell him she's anything but," Garrus, I'm so sorry-"

"What is it?" He snaps

Wordlessly, she crosses the room and switches on the television. The news is on and in the corner is a photo of...

"Shepard."

He struggles to make sense of what he's seeing, what he's hearing.

"It is a dark day for the galaxy," the news anchor says mournfully, " the Normandy has been destroyed with multiple casualties, including Commander Cassia Shepard, who defeated the rogue specter Saren Arcturis on the Citadel 1 month past."

The world falls away and he nearly falls with it, legs buckling beneath him only to be caught by his sister and led to his desk where he is lowered into his chair.

"Garrus-"

"I-I'm fine Sol," he hears himself say, "I just need to be alone."

"Are you sure-"

"Out."

It comes out as a growl and she takes the warning and leaves. Once she's gone, he flings a datapad across the room, tears blurring his vision.

He had just talked to her, what, two weeks ago? 

And now she was gone. He felt cold, numb. This couldn't be happening.

Tapping at his omni-tool, he pulled up Joker's message.

"Garrus, I- fuck," Joker's voice comes through, raw and ragged with greif, " I didn't want you to find out through the news. Shepard's gone. She- she got spaced when the Normandy was attacked. She saved me and- fuck man, I'm sorry."

He couldn't say what exactly happened in the weeks following that message, most of it was blurred by the wonderful amnesiac qualities of Turian brandy. Eventually that wasn't enough. He couldn't stand it, the way Sol constantly checked up on him; seeing the face of his best friend on every tv screen, knowing that he would never see her again. Never...

He returns to the Citadel and C-sec, but it isn't the same. How could it be?

The red tape that merely annoyed him before now adds to a slowly simmering rage. 

He tries, spirits, does he try. 

He tries to push against the official line that the war is over with the defeat of the Geth and Sovereign, tries to do good, tries to do his Commander proud.

Something in him snaps.

The catalyst is a smuggler, bringing red sand and spirits knows what else onto the Citadel. Red tape, too much for him to bypass, stops him from getting to him so he quits, much to his father's immense disappointment.

A little squeezing produces a name. A little more produces a place: Omega. Garrus is on the first shuttle out.

Upon landing he immediately takes down a Vorcha mugging an elderly human with a well placed hit with his rifle butt. The woman is thankful, calling him an angel;some type of human guardian spirit.

Later he finds another Turian at the Afterlife while drowning his sorrows and the two decide to take the fight to Omega's gangs.

After that, more join up until he has a squad, 12 strong, helping to clean up the streets of the space station and earning both the adoration of the locals and a new nickname: Archangel.

Adoration isn't the only thing their war earns them; credits roll in as well. His men want to take it easy, slow down, but he won't hear it. Partly because he knows they're doing good work and partly because he doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn't have a target in his scope.

 He pushes too hard.

Sidonis's betrayal catches him completely off guard. Lured away with a lie of an operation, he returns to carnage. His crew lies dead or dying throughout their hideout and Sidonis is nowhere to be found. As he does his best to keep the survivors alive, he can feel the old rage coursing through his veins as he clears out the invading gang members one by one. 

Sidonis is going to pay.

He's exhausted. The bodies of his crew are starting to smell, and he's running low on ammo. He pulls the trigger and another merc falls, they've long since stopped sending their best and he's long since stopped feeling bad about the inexperienced cannon fodder being sent after him.

Still, it won't be long now.

Moving into cover, he opens his omni-tool and does something he hasn't done in a long time.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dad."

"Garrus? What's that sound?"

He peers through the scope and drops another merc.

"Target practice."

"Then call back later."

"I-I don't think I'll be able to do that," he sighs, "too many targets."

"...I see."

Another merc falls but there are four more coming to take his place.

"Listen, Dad, I don't have a lot of time left," he says, popping out the heat sink, "I just wanted to tell you, you were right. About everything. I'm sorry we fought so much."

"Don't worry about that now," his father replies, to an untrained ear he might have sounded calm, "these...targets? Are they moving fast?"

"Not fast enough," he's looking through his scope again and notices a group who seem to actually know how to use cover, " but they're learning."

"Thermal clips?"

"Could always use more."

The group is on the move again, and he spies something that makes his heart skip a beat. N7 armor.

" No matter how bad things are," his father continues, " so long as you have one bullet left, you can still finish the job. Understand?"

"Yes sir." He mutters, shooting a concussive round at the mystery soldier. It knocks their helmet off, revealing a pile of raven-dark hair.

"Good, and when you finish up there you come home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

 His focus is now squarely on the squad making their way across the bridge; he can see her clearly in his scope, right as she fires a round into the back of a merc's head.

"Yeah, we do," he says, relief washing over him, "Dad, I've got to go, but don't worry about me. The odds just got a lot better."

"I thought you were dead."

He resisted the impulse to touch her, to make sure that she's actually real and not some pre-death hallucination, opting to sit down on a nearby crate instead.

"Garrus, what are you doing here?" She asked, her eyes bright and alive.

"Good to see you too."

She smiled up at him and he felt his stomach flip, " I'm just surprised to see you."

"Well, that makes both of us." He replied, " Still, it's good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

"You shot me."

"Concussive rounds only, didn't want the mercs getting suspicious."

She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in that oh so familiar way, "yeah, right."

His mandibles twitched in a smirk, "If I wanted to do more than take your shields down, I would have done it. Besides, you were taking your sweet time, I had to get you moving."

She had questions, he was sure, but so did he. Not that they had time for that, not with the mercs en route. 

The decision was easy, they would hold their position and with the help of Shepard and her two companions they should be able to make a dent in the merc's resistance and haul ass out of the base.

"Alright," she said, with a grin, "let's spill a little merc blood."

"Good to see you haven't changed."

The battle was desperate, even with the help, but Garrus found himself reinvigorated; watching Shepard aim down the sights of her own rifle to his left. It was her usual spot, and he hadn't fully realized how impossible it had been to fill until she was back in it.

He took aim, and had a merc in his sights but before he could pull the trigger, their head snapped back and they dropped to the floor. 

"You stole my kill, Shepard."

"Ya snooze ya lose Vakarian," she shot back, laughing over the sound of gunfire, " besides, you've had them all to yourself, don't be greedy."

"Me? Never."

She stayed by his side for most of the fight while the other humans took out anyone that made it past their bullets,there weren't many, or made entry on the lower level. It was only when Blue Suns started streaming in that she switched to her SMG and ran off to get rid of them while he kept picking off anyone stupid enough to try and cross the bridge.

Then came the gunship.

"Damnit," he growled, reloading, "I thought I took that thing out."

A hail of bullets flew towards him as he turned to fire, taking down his shields and forcing him into cover.

"You think you can screw with the Blue Suns," taunted the pilot, "this ends now!"

Swearing, he made for cover on his left just in time to see a rocket fly in his direction. The world exploded around him and he felt himself become airborne before landing in a heap, excruciating pain radiating through his body as his vision began to darken. Somewhere above him, he heard someone screaming his name.

As he lost consciousness, he only had one thought.

I just got her back.

[the-ghost-bracket]

Mia Fey propaganda:

"So cool that even death couldn't stop her!! Regularly gets summoned back by her spirit channeling sister to kick ass in court and give advice to her protégé 👍"

"She dies immediately in the first game and spends the next three as a spirit/ghost, guiding Phoenix to success in court. She comes from a family of spirit channelers so usually when you see her it's her being channeled by her little sister or cousin, but she does sometimes just show up as a specter in still shots"

"She's gives Nick lawyer tips from beyond the grave"

"She dies in the beginning of the second case, but she still has a huge impact on the story. Her sister can channel spirits, so she is back sometimes, and regularly saves the characters asses"

"She’s a lawyer who got killed by a rich blackmailer and her little sister can channel her. It’s implied the chief prosecutor was her girlfriend in college and her boyfriend is actually a whole other Thing (bicon) and yeah she’s just cool. I like her."

[rafent]

"Rafal..." Freshly roused from sleep, Alcryst's eyes lay on the pale Fell Dragon lingering near his cot. Likely visiting someone else, his mind reasons, though that doesn't stop him from calling the dragon to his bedside. "I have a question, if you can answer it..."

Am I Corrupted? and Can you control the Corrupted? get confused with one another, resulting in an entirely new question: "Can you turn me into one of the Corrupted?"

If he's not already. Alcryst is tired, and he hurts. It's easy to think of it as his body protesting its current state: alive rather than dead, as he should be, as he experienced. That's a reasonable conclusion to draw, right? But the longer Alcryst dwells on it, the stronger his despair grows. "I should be dead," he confesses. His voice cracks and wobbles. "I should be dead, but I'm not. It's not right..."

Combing through the infirmary for his sister, the first person he recognized slowed him to a stop; most notably, with a question. Rafal drifted closer to Alcryst then, pallid and wordless as a specter, if not equally intrigued by the desires of the living. The other's weary condition spoke to trying times, absent of the vitality he once used to argue with the Fell Dragon. The spirited Alcryst briefly contended with at tea could not have been more different from the one before him now. Even so, seeing him bestowed the knowledge that those saddled with sickness had at least survived. Other discoveries were far less welcome.

In a closing of distance, the ticklish ends of his hair touched the prince's cheek as he loomed over him. An onlooker at distance might assume he was tending to the injured - the damaged and the astray. His fingers curved over Alcryst's shoulder, thumb pressing collar bone and weighing down the delicate bone, pressure followed by an ever so tactfully worded theory in the ear:

"You are delirious with pain, Alcryst. Or with the residue of sickness. For fear of worsening the condition, the sensitive period following one's awakening is undoubtedly worth rest and recovery."

Between the trenchant dismissal cloaked in these words and the soft Brodian throat his grip seemingly compromised, some short eternity fed the contact and allowed every word to sink. Everlasting, unrelenting, until at last there was an end. He released him after a moment, half a mind on the disturbed wanderings of Alcryst's chosen direction, another on the trembling voice he heard.

Ultimately, he understood the unseen plight and reluctance to accept reality; in the end, Rafal also thought his saved life undeserved. ". . .To live where death was expected is not wrongness but fortune. Conserve your energy and reflect instead over your blessings, not the dangerous topics beyond human understanding."

Then he stepped back in readiness to leave, to end this chapter of his own selfish accord. Even if the other should dislike his answer or possess more to say, he would not hear of it. Protests were not worth hearing to him on the topic of Corrupted; and what could Alcryst do to deny the dragon - pursue him, only just freshly awoken? Bestrew the infirmary with his clamoring shouts and attempts? He shot him an unbothered look and turned away.

[sliptohk]

Prompt# 21: Shade

The tunnel remains quiet after the catastrophe. What had felt like a lifetime unfurling in mere minutes. Oliver works carefully, massaging the sides of Ellory's neck as the healing magics tickle abysmally. It coaxes the torn flesh back into place even as the discomfort remains fresh in her mind.

"Good work, Arlette." Still hoarse, but more clear, "That swivin' tourist can cool his head for a spell."

"Language, Cheerful." River's heart was lacking, but it was easy to fall back into old habits.

His brother was in a far more foul mood, stroking the haft of his halberd along the chunk the auri man had chopped out of it. Crater gave a quick nod to the two new acquisitions they had made. It was question enough for them to take up the next topic of discussion as the bloodied seawolf lay snoring and the highlander woman curled in on herself in one corner.

"You two got her good, didn't ya?"

"I take no responsibility for the young woman's current state. I merely defended myself and Arlette. What she may have chosen to unleash in the moment is for her to clarify."

"I could've done a sight worse! Still might. Just gave her a touch of sickness."

"How big a touch was it?" Ellory squints in the gloom, slipping her goggles from her eyes to look about more clearly.

"Less than the mountain."

It elicits a laugh from the hyurgadyn. She regrets it immediately as her throat revolts. Oliver sighs in irritation, before massaging over it once more. Some said healing magics felt warm and soothing. Why did they end up with a practicioner that valued efficiency over comfort?

"At any rate, are they complicit in the designs of their leader or are they likely to redeem themselves?"

The scrape of a whetstone on steel emphasizes the importance of that discussion as River chose that moment to lovingly sharpen his hatchets. It was clear Ellory's stance, given the order to collect the two before the mountain fell on them. It would have made for a far more easily masked execution to simply leave them to be buried.

"Stick a pin in it." Crater wrapped a thick layer of cloth about the divot in an impromptu effort to mend the weapon. "We make them talk first. Find out about Silent."

Heavy silence answers, save for the faint thumping of padded feet on stone as it echoed down the tunnels of the Ogre's Yawn.

~~~

A young boy ran shrieking down the lone street of the trading post, "Monster! Its a monster! Its a snow specter!"

Said spirit staggered along behind. Not following the caller, though with only one path to travel it was easy enough to think otherwise. Clothing thick with icicles that swung back and forth with each motion. What few glimpses of skin one caught white as fresh powder and hair caked with ice that hung low over their eyes. The only hint that the child was taken by their imagination was the puff of breath that misted in the cold with each heavy breath.

Stoically, they pressed on toward the warmth of the tavern in search of warmth and assistance.

[houseoflibra]

Saint Seiya: Dark Wing Chapter 28: The Celestial Noble Star Gryphon

Page 1

Page 2

Narrator: - The Scorpio Gold Saint Eulalia saved the female students in the music room, - and the Leo Gold Saint Vassilios battled the Clown of the False God Demiurgos, the "King of Swords" Shedim. - Meanwhile, - shortly before that…

Page 3

Narrator: - …one of the Three Judges of the Underworld, - Shoichiro, the Celestial Fierce Star Wyvern, - was at school with his younger brother Soujiro, the Gemini Gold Saint.

Soujiro: - It's been a while since you were last at school. - How is it going, Sho?

Shoichiro: - Everyone was surprised that I was still alive, but - I was relieved to get a warm welcome.

Students: - This is great!

Page 4

Shoichiro: - Everyone living their lives in peace… - That wasn't a given, was it?

Soujiro: - To be honest, - I'd prefer it - if you - and Cattleya didn't have to fight.

Shoichiro: - I think I'm glad. - How could I have been at peace, - while you and Cattleya were fighting on your own? - That would have been hard.

Soujiro: - Sho…

Page 5

Soujiro: - And you've gotten close to your beloved Yoruhime Tsukishima, huh? - Hee hee hee!

Shoichiro: - That's!… - Uhh… - I can't deny I'm a little… - ...happy, but… - Uhm…

Soujiro: - You have your own reasons to fight, Sho. - That's all I need to know.

Shoichiro: - Yeah.

Page 6

Soujiro: - So… where are the girls?

Shoichiro: - They're patrolling the school, - to make sure no other students get attacked or kidnapped.

Soujiro: - You guys really are Specters of Justice, huh? - My fellow Gold Saints, on the other hand… - They're out and about doing whatever they want!

Eulalia: - I'll have to inspect this too, of course.

(pamphlet) - Come to a tea ceremony!

Vassilios: - Bye, I'm off to the karaoke!

Eulalia and Vassilios: - Freedom!

Soujiro: - (Sigh…)

Shoichiro: - There, there…

Page 7

Seirim: - Hi there, - Gemini Soujiro, - and Wyvern Shoichiro!

Shoichiro: - Ah!

Seirim: - *clapping* - Wow! - Your reaction speed, fighting spirit and cosmo are all amazing! - You two truly are the best of both factions, aren't you?

Soujiro: - Who are you?!

Page 8

Seirim: - I am a Clown of the Lord Demiurgos, - one of the Four Horsemen, - the "King of Diamonds", Seirim.

Soujiro: - Of Demiurgos?!

Seirim: - I'd like you two handsome twins - to watch the play that's about to start.

Soujiro: - A play?

Seirim: - Mm-hm! - One of the Three Judges of the Underworld - falls in love with a Gold Saint…

Page 9

Seirim: - …and turns her into his doll. - Hehe… - It's quite the comedy, don't you think?

Twins: - Ha!!

Page 10

Twins: - What?!

Page 11

Shoichiro: - !!

Seirim: - Gemini and Wyvern, - the "Fate Breakers". - I'm going to have to lock you here.

Shoichiro: - ?!

Page 12

Seirim: - Well, - Sit tight until the play is over! - Buh-byee! ♪

Soujiro: - Ugh!

Shoichiro: - A Clown of Demiurgos…

Page 13

Shoichiro: - We're the… - …"Fate Breakers"?

Soujiro: - Sho, we'll think about that later. - Right now, we need to tear down this wall!

Shoichiro: - Right!

Both: - Haaaaah!!

Page 14

Soujiro: - It's no good…!!

Shoichiro: - Soujiro! - Let's keep on trying, as long as it takes!

Soujiro: - Yeah!

Both: - Woooooh!

Page 15

Charlotte: - Yoruhime, - I've lost contact with Zhu and Esther.

Yoruhime: - So it would seem. - The school building has been completely cut off from the outside world. - This isn't Gryphon's technique. - Clearly, there is another enemy.

Page 16

Yoruhime: - This means that these incidents were intended to lure us here, - using his power as bait.

Charlotte: - !

Yoruhime: - The sound of footsteps… - They're coming.

Page 17

Charlotte: - Yoruhime!

Yoruhime: - The Celestial Noble Star Gryphon…

Page 18

Lucas: - Ah… - Ah… - Ahhh… - I… - I have to… - I must have that golden princess… - And for that…

Yoruhime and Charlotte: - …?

Lucas: - ...for that…! - Huff… huff…

???: - Then first things first. - The two people in front of you are in the way, aren't they? - Come on, wake up… - After all, you are the Celestial Noble Star Gryphon… - …Minos!!

Page 19

Lucas: - Yes… - I'm…

Minos: - I am… - I am… Minos, - the Celestial Noble Star Gryphon!!

Page 20

Yoruhime: - The Celestial Noble Star Gryphon - "Minos"…?

Minos: - Heh. - Look who it is. - If it isn't the Lady Pandora and Necromancer?

Page 21

Yoruhime: - That's correct, Celestial Noble Star Gryphon. - Are you going to obey me quietly?

Minos: - Heh heh heh… - I wonder… - What should I do?

Charlotte: - Lady Pandora!

Page 22

Charlotte: - ?! - (I can't move…!)

Minos: - You be quiet, - Necromancer…

Charlotte: - …?

Minos: - Well, well… - What a charming young lady you are. - I think I got an idea of what's going on now. - Heh heh heh…

Page 23

Minos: - It seems you two do not belong to the Underworld Army that I know. - So… - …based on the voice that urged me to awake, - and on this vessel's memories…

Yoruhime: - …

Minos: - …I've reached a conclusion.

Pages 24 + 25

Minos: - There is no need - for me to obey Pandora in this awakening!

Charlotte: - You can't! - After him, O deceased ones! - Mort Resurrection!!

Page 26

Charlotte: - It didn't work! - He pushed back my technique with just a shockwave of cosmo?!

Minos: - I have no use for either of you.

Page 27

Minos: - However, - we are fellow Specters. - Please stay here until I have fulfilled the wishes of the owner of this vessel.

Page 28

Yoruhime: - What are you going to do?

Minos: - The Scorpio Gold Saint. - She's a beautiful maiden that this vessel desires. - I will use my threads - to make her my puppet. - After that, I'm going to kill everyone in this city, - and gift them to Lord Hades as a souvenir.

Yoruhime: - I see.

Minos: - Heh!

Page 29

Yoruhime: - Then you are my enemy. - I will defeat you.

Minos: - Hahahah! - Well said, for a captive princess who can't move herself! - All right then. After the Gold Saint, - I will make you my puppet! - Please wait for me there. - I won't be long. - Hahahahah!

Page 30

Charlotte: - Yoruhime…

Yoruhime: - I'm okay, Charlie. - What's more important… - …is the shadow that triggered Gryphon's awakening back there. - That - was Demiurgos's agent.

Page 31

Yoruhime: - That is our true enemy!

Seirim: - *giggling*

Page 32

Seirim: - *giggling*

To be continued...

[graceful-not]

OKAY SEE THE THING IS: I LIKE the premise of the diabolical box, I just think it was executed terribly.

SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING IN THE SECOND LAYTON GAME UNDER THE CUT-

THEY SHOULD HAVE FORESHADOWED THE HALLUCONENIC GAS PLOT!!! The thing about this game is that it starts MUCH too lighthearted!! Layton and Luke shouldn't have been so OKAY after the whole thing, BOTH mentally AND physically!!! Curious Village's vibe was very.. unsettling in a way that the other games weren't, Diabolical Box should have pushed that up to 10000! The townspeople should have been less... forward; the bellhop that interrupts Beluga??? was he real? and you're telling me that everyone in the room had the same hallucination of this one guy????? the person that interrupts Beluga should have been someone previously established on the train that tagged along. OR KATIA!!! IT COULDVE BEEN KATIA!!!!!!!!!! IT SHOULDVE BEEN KATIA! AND THE PERSON THAT STOPS THEM ON THEIR WAY TO THE CASTLE IN THE FOREST???? WAS HE REAL??? the villagers were so NORMAL and I think some of them should have been a little more...there should've been an NPC that, when you click on them, says nothing, and doesn't respond to either of the duos attempts to talk to them, just staring into space. and as Luke steps forward the person Walks Away and you never see them again. There should have been weird shadowy specters when you turn the corner and Luke's like "PROFESSAH did you see that?" and Laytons like "See what? Did you notice something, Luke?" and Luke just shakes it off. There should have been rumors of spirits to make the shadow hallucinations easier to fold in before the reveal. Do you get it. When they got to the castle it should increase tenfold. The professor should have stumbled. Should have lost his composure more than just "No, we need to keep moving, Luke, we're so close, we can't stop yet!" Their vision should have blurred a little. Esp during their time in the village! THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN INCREDIBLY SICK AT THE END!!! Luke should have passed out when they opened the box (there's no way he didnt think he was gonna die) and it should have been INCREDIBLY nerve wracking and terrifying!! Do you understand me!! Also they could have Flora be there to Save Them (she managed to get in contact with people and rushed back w/ another inspector, or maybe Chelmey helps her when he gets there,) (also I want this to happen so that there's some form of narrative justification for her absense other than 'we didn't want her in the plot' shdhjsbs) only to see the professor on his last limb and Luke PASSED OUT on the rock! The last scene between Katia and Anton is still there though before Flora gets there I like it it's very sweet and sad. but EVERYONE (including Katia and Anton) is EVACUATED and the last animated scene is the Professor and Flora sitting next to Luke's hospital bed w/ the article about the miracle cure for his mentor. And everyone's fine at the end but we should be SCARED that they ARENT! They set up all of the "people were getting sick and dying etc etc etc" thing and that SHOULD HAVE AFFECTED LUKE AND LAYTON!! When they first get into the cave Luke should comment that it's a little difficult to breathe and the professor should say something like "it must be the air pressure difference in the cave" and when they read the journal it should be like "people keep saying it's hard to breathe, even in the town. Some of them are even dying from it" and make the reader go 'Oh! OH SHIT!!' y'know???? like. URGH. MAKE THEM SICK!! THEY SHOULD BE SICK!!!!!!