#Like Skulker but more kind and less smart

[bet-on-me-13]

Constantine gets a pet Blob

So! Constantine is just doing a job one day when he comes across a little Blob Ghost.

He doesn't think much of it, just feeds it some physical Emotions he had in his pocket (magic stuff idk) and walks off.

But the Blob follows him. So he walks faster, and it follows faster. So he runs, and the Blob is now chasing him. Eventually he loses it by hiding around a corner, waits for it to pass, and peeks out to see if it's still there.

Its not, so he walks back out and opens a Portal back home. He takes one more look behind him, sees nothing, and walks in. Only to be met with the Blob floating in the center of his living room.

He figures after a while that he can't get it to leave, so he just names it "Blobby" and lets it hang around him whenever he leaves for a Job.

Turns put he is actually really helpful on Jobs, his ability to sense emotions was more powerful than even John's best spells. It's makes it really easy to solve missing persons cases when he can just have Blobby search for the person's emotions.

He's also really good when Constantine in making deals. Blobby is great at detecting when a Demon is trying to swindle him, even if he always catches it without his help.

Thats really it, I just wanted to give Constantine a Blob Ghost Sidekick

[leda-x]

Hello! I just finished A Snapping Sound and absolutely loved it, it was so so good! I just had a quick question about how Danny ultimately passed since I'm a bit confused-

Did he get caught somehow during the second escape and then after some time Vlad did the same to him as the others? Or was it accidental death in his escape? I thought his escape plan was quite clever, I'm wondering how he got found and how he died exactly 😭

Thank you!

Hey I wrote this whole thing out... somewhere... lemme find it...

Danny hadn’t seen the sky in aeons. Time was no longer marked by sunrise and sunset. Days were marked by when his tormentor entered the basement and when he left. Danny obsessively picked the routine apart, unraveling it, replaying it over and over for a way to exploit it. He had nothing else to do except log the details of his captivity.

When he’s about to leave he stomps three times to knock the dirt from his shoes.

He takes the steps two at a time when he descends, one at a time when he ascends.

After he leaves, I have approximately seven hours until he comes back. Seven hours to escape, give or take thirty minutes of error, seeing as I counted the seconds, during five different ‘nights’, then averaged them.

Of course, his captor caught onto that pretty quickly. After Danny’s first botched escape attempt the man was careful to randomize his routine in such a way that Danny was left in a constant state of disorientation. He was kept cuffed for what felt like days on end, then, without any reasoning, he was uncuffed. He no longer could tell when one ‘day’ bled into another, as his captor spent different segments of time in the basement, ranging everywhere from four hours, down to ten minutes. He also began to sedate Danny at odd intervals, for no apparent reason other than to create blurry gaps in his memory and keep him from planning. Danny had quieted and his tormentor had taken his complacency as defeat instead of what it really was: endurance. Somewhere along the way, Danny had learned that, in order to survive long enough to escape, he had to be a smart captive. A smart captive meant sacrificing any semblance of pride, playing nice, and waiting. It meant begging when asked to beg, agreeing to anything and everything, and otherwise pretending you didn’t exist, because only bad things happened when you were noticed.

At this point, keeping track of time became pointless. So did the idea of planning an elaborate escape attempt. If he couldn’t predict what his tormentor would do, with any small amount of certainty, he had no constants to plan around. And while he knew he could pick the lock to his room, he also knew that he stood no chance of getting out of the basement anymore. At least, not on his own. The man had sealed that exit thoroughly.

So, Danny waited patiently and remained vigilant for a random stroke of luck. 

And then, miraculously, one day an opportunity presented itself in the form of a dead body.

In the dark, Danny squinted and was able to make out a four-sided wooden coffin. The lid was ajar, a dark hand waving out.

Danny pried the lid off and stared down, stunned. Even though he knew before he even opened the lid, it wasn’t any less unnerving to see the dead eyes staring up at him.

Danny swallowed thickly. He reached underneath the corpse’s armpits, hoisting it up. The thing’s head lolled, nuzzling his, giving Danny an intense whiff of rot and an expanse of clammy flesh. Danny turned his head away and gagged. He tried not to think about how this could be him if this prison break didn’t work.

It took forever to drag the body across the basement into his room. It took another forever to wrestle it into his clothing. The body’s arms were rubbery, heavy, and swollen.

Danny panted, dizzy. In his emaciated state this whole endeavor was like a marathon. Adrenaline beat his ears like a war drum and leant him strength he did not possess. With a grunt, he rolled the dead thing onto his bed and covered it with his thin blanket.

He had no idea how long this doppelganger would fool his jailor. If the man entered his room today he would notice, but the man rarely came into his room.

Danny breathed shallowly. He felt more awake now than he had felt in long time. More alive. Clear-headed. Focused. Hope dared to balloon in his chest. This could work.

He tugged on the clone’s clothes. It had been wearing nothing but a white shirt and a pair of overly baggy pants. After yanking the shirt on, Danny searched through the basement and found a surgical knife. He tucked it into the waistline, the cool metal pressing against the small of his back. He found several large bottles of whatever his captor used before he performed surgeries on his other victims— some kind of weird orange-yellow-brown liquid— and he smeared it across his every inch of exposed skin.

Then, with one last glance at the near pitch-black basement, Danny lowered himself into the coffin and readjusted the lid so it was half covering him. He tried to remember how the corpse had been lying. Any missed detail, and he’d fail. His captor wasn’t stupid.

Danny raised his right hand and draped it over the edge of the casket, limp.

He stayed that way for an indefinite amount of time. Hours. Days. He couldn’t tell. His shoulders, the back of his head, his heels, and his tailbone pounded at the hard surface of the box. He lost feeling completely in his upraised arm. His eyes stared blankly ahead, scanning, knowing that three inches from his nose was a wooden lid, although the box was so dark he couldn’t make it out.

His eyes drooped and his adrenaline faded away, yet his body never relaxed. As much as his body screamed for it, he couldn’t allow sleep. Not tonight.

A mechanical door whirred and someone descended into the lab. Heavy, slow, plodding footsteps— Skulker’s.

Danny’s breath caught.

Skulker wasted no time. He lumbered over to the casket where Danny willed himself to steady. The fact that his hand hand gone numb was a blessing. It meant it had no chance of trembling and giving him away.

Danny didn’t dare flinch or breathe. He kept his mouth agape and prayed Skulker wouldn’t look too hard. Skulker wasn’t much for noticing details. Desperate to not think about what was going on right now, Danny tried to remember his mother’s voice, her scent, the feeling of his head tucked underneath her chin as she held him close and safe. Any residual tension flooded out of his limbs.

Skulker grabbed his right hand and flung it back into the box. Danny’s leadened arm flopped lifelessly and hit the wall of the casket with a dull thud that he didn’t feel. Above him, the lid of the coffin was put back in place.

A grating noise, then a series of booms. Danny couldn’t help but flinch as the coffin jolted painfully against his sore body. The back of his skull complained. His eyeballs rattled in their sockets.

Then, he was being moved. How? He wasn’t sure.

Danny dared to open his eyes— seeing nothing but pitch black. Danny couldn’t twist or sit upright. He could barely move his head two inches up before hitting it on the lid. His eyes flitted around the slats to try and see through, but it was impossible.

A slow triumphant smirk spread across his lips. He was maybe the only person ever that was looking forward to being buried alive.

Skulker grunted as he heaved the box somewhere... outside. Freezing cold air whistled through the cracks, easily biting through Danny’s shirt. He fought a shiver and wondered what month it was. The last time he had attempted escape, it had been spring. Surely it hadn’t been more than a few months since then?

Skulker let out a gruff noise and Danny felt weightlessness as the box got tossed. With a jolt of fear, his fingers tried to clamp down to something, but there was nothing to hold onto. The casket hit hard and tumbled. Danny’s head smacked into the side of the box. He blinked blood rapidly out of his left eye. Absently, Danny prayed that Skulker didn’t look back in the box again. The blood would be a dead giveaway. Also, in this light, Danny doubted Skulker would mistake him again.

There was a yip and a rustle. The sound of tinkling chains. Danny only had his imagination to sort out what was going on.

Skulker let out a whistle and at least three dogs answered with howls, before the box jolted and Danny was gliding. He turned his head to the side and ran the back of his hand along the wood grain. Three inches of cedar plank separated him from the sun. Tears welled in his eyes, unbidden. It had felt like ages since he had last seen the sky. And here he was, so close, yet still unable to see it.

Danny forced back the tears. This wasn’t the time to get overly emotional or cocky. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. He pricked his ears, trying to dissect each noise in case it would prove important later, should this escape work. He could hear a constant shhhhhhh of whatever contraption he was on. A chain jingled, taut. There were several dogs. He could hear them panting and snuffling nearby. Far ahead he could hear Skulker plodding along. Branches snapped and leaves rustled. Images of the forest behind the mansion came to mind.

If they were in that forest, they had cut over to a deeper, denser, part. Their progress was slower and Skulker cursed more and more underneath his breath. Danny could hear that the man was fatigued. His footsteps grew slower and heavier.

They came to a halt. The dogs scampered away. Danny heard a door close and the sound of a fire crackling.

Danny closed his eyes again and went limp. He was patient. He could wait. But, Skulker never came back and neither did the dogs. Danny got the feeling that he had been forgotten. He didn’t know how long that would last. His feet and palms began to sweat, itch. This could be the last chance he had before Skulker buried the coffin.

Danny shifted, wiggling until he could get his arms free from where they were pinned up against the sides of the box. He used his knees and his palms to push against the lid.

It wouldn’t budge.

Danny’s heart hammered in his throat. He used the top of his head. He strained and let out a soft noise of frustration. Did Skulker already nail the lid on? Danny hadn’t planned on that. His mind raced, trying to come up with another way out, should that be the case. He had a knife, maybe he could… He shook his head, refocused, and tried again.

This time the lid popped and cracked open.

Danny froze and held his breath, listening intently for any sign that Skulker had heard that. When nothing happened, he pushed the lid all the way off and sat up. 

Fresh air ruffled his hair, and filled his lungs, making him dizzy and euphoric. Sunlight warmed his cheeks. Snowflakes fell against his nose and nestled atop his head. Danny heaved a few breaths and looked upwards. Giddiness nearly overcame him as he took in the sky.

Blue. Sun. Fluffy clouds lazily rolling along a dazzling crystalline sky. Peace.

Danny stared around at all the snow, bewildered. Panic simmered. He had missed out on a way larger chunk of time than he originally thought. He had been taken in August. His first escape attempt had been in spring. There was at least two feet of snow blanketing the ground, which meant it was December, if not February. That meant… over a year.

Over a year of lost time.

Danny pushed that thought aside and peered down to find the casket which was resting atop a sled— a sled which sat next to a log cabin. Danny looked directly into a window. Inside, a healthy fireplace, several animal heads mounted to the wall, and Skulker crouched above the fire. He had his back to the window, poking a bit at the embers. The hunter straightened and turned.

Danny let his spine go limp and fell backwards into the casket. His eyes darted about at the sky wildly in fear. He realized it didn’t matter if Skulker saw him or not— he had to get out of this coffin.

Keeping his head ducked, Danny crawled out and fell to the ground. Cold seeped through his shirt and pants, soaking them. Blood stained the snow underneath his head. Danny’s fingers curled desperately into the snow, feeling it crunch against his palm.

He backed away from the sled, sliding along his butt, until his back hit the cabin wall. He edged away from the front door. Keeping his gaze fixated on the window, Danny used his hands to feel his way behind him. His palm hit something warm and wet and he flinched.

An English Setter stared at him, butting its head into Danny’s palm. It’s fur was mangy and a speckled brown. It was large and brutish, with thick corded muscle.

Danny froze.

The dog tilted its head and growled.

“Shh,” Danny breathed. He caught sight of a leather collar with a name tag. “Shh, Cujo.”

Its head the other direction, ears perked in recognition.

“That’s your name, right?” Danny soothed, whispering. “Listen, Cujo. Let’s keep this our little secret, ok?” He got onto his feet, slowly. His height frightened the dog, who skittered back a few paces and yipped, loud.

The cabin door flew open.

Danny ran.

His bare feet ached as he tore his way through the snow. With each stride his leg disappeared several inches. The snow was icy and sharp. Danny didn’t care. His gaze was laser-focused on a thick clump of trees. He had no idea where he was, but he figured that he could find some hiding spots in the thicker parts of the forest.

From behind him, as if through a tunnel, Danny heard a yell. He phased it all out of his mind and kept running. All that mattered was running as fast as he could into that treeline. Even when he reached it, he knew he wasn’t safe, he kept running. Skulker was coming up behind him. Danny could hear the man’s panting.

Danny darted through the branches, hopping over a log. He trained all his focus on not tripping.

Skulker stampeded right behind him. Almost on top of him now.

Adrenaline pounded through his head. He urged his legs to run faster, but they had done nothing for over a year. His muscles quivered with disuse. Out of desperation, he yanked at a branch so it would fling backwards. Behind him, Skulker gave a pained grunt then tackled him from behind with the brute force of an avalanche.

The breath got knocked from his lungs. His face pressed into the snow. It filled his mouth and his nose. He choked. Panic stabbed at him. His hands scrambled for purchase and found a branch. Getting a good grip on it, he whipped it behind him.

Skulker grabbed that arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to let go of the bludgeon. Danny’s arm screamed in protest.

“Stop struggling,” Skulker grunted. He pressed his knee into the back of Danny’s head, forcing his face a few more inches into the snow until it completely covered his ears. 

Danny screamed, but it was muffled. He twisted and kicked backwards as hard as he could. His bare heel collided with a crunch. Dimly, Danny was aware of pain in his foot.

Skulker howled and tumbled off of him.

Danny crawled a few paces away before getting back on his feet. He swayed.

Skulker got ahold of his neck and slammed him against a tree.

“Hnnr—” Danny choked. Snow rattled off the branches overhead, dumping onto the pair of them. It clung to his hair and eyelashes. He blinked furiously up at Skulker’s leering face.

Skulker’s eyes narrowed. He lifted Danny higher until his bare feet kicked nothing but air and the back of the tree.

Danny gritted his teeth and lashed out, hitting Skulker’s arms, his hands clawing, ripping. His struggles weakened as his vision darkened. Skulker’s tough leather hunting gloves were impossible to scratch through and he was wearing far too many layers. He merely shook Danny by the neck like shaking a rubber chicken.

Danny’s head flopped as the fight got sucked out of him. For a minute he forgot. He allowed himself to give up. “Do it,” he mouthed, lips trembling.

Skulker paused. “What?”

"Do it,” Danny mouthed again.

Skulker’s faced dawned in understanding. He nodded. His grip tightened until Danny felt like his neck would snap in half.

Danny’s eyelashes fluttered. The brilliant blue sky faded into black. His hands fell to his sides, still. He felt an overwhelming calm swoop down over him. It swaddled him in a blanket of peace. Then, something dug into the small of his back. A wiggling thread loosened, a voice screamed that he couldn’t just fall noiselessly into the dark. If he died, Skulker would put him in that box and bury him somewhere no one would ever find him, just like he had done with all the others.

Danny couldn’t swallow that. Couldn’t stomach it. He wouldn’t allow them to get away with it.

Still limp at his sides, his hands suddenly twitched. As if in a dream, he reached behind his back and found the handle of a knife. His fingers could barely grasp it, but he dredged up enough voracity to whip the knife out and bury it deep into Skulker’s shoulder. The knife shifted through muscle and bit into bone.

Skulker dropped him and stumbled backwards with a surprised howl. He no longer looked like he wanted to entertain the idea of putting Danny out of his misery peacefully.

Danny collapsed at the base of the tree, clawing at his throat, gasping for air. Still, Danny refused for this to be the end. He had waited, planned, and been patient. This was the closest he had been to freedom. He couldn’t die and he couldn’t go back. He would not go back into that basement. He was so fucking close, he would fucking murder Skulker if he had to.

Desperation flooded him beyond reason. Danny dug around at the base of the tree, through the snow, for anything he could use. He found a rock.

Skulker grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him backwards, roughly. His back lit with fire. Danny screamed and twisted, smashing the rock as hard as he could into Skulker’s head. The man toppled. Danny struck him again, twice, three times, as hard as he possibly could. Suddenly— silence.

Danny panted. His chest heaved. He dropped the bloodied rock into the snow and stared. With his toe, he poked Skulker’s shoulder. Little crimson bubbles fizzed in the corner of Skulker’s mouth— proof he was still breathing.

Danny tried to stand up and fell. His back screamed. He reached behind and found the handle of the knife protruding from his somewhere to the left of his mid-spine. Without thinking, he ripped it out, shoving his face into the snow to stifle his shout. Pain became nausea. He stared at the knife accusingly, before tucking it back into his waistline.

He tried to stand again. His legs wobbled and his back seized, paralyzing him. The world spun on it’s axis and Danny found himself sprawled on the snow again, puffing little agonized breathes of air.

Walking was out of the question, then.

Danny dragged himself away from Skulker’s unconscious body, away from the cabin. He used the snow as a cushion and pulled his body along. The pace didn’t matter. Any progress was ok.

After what felt like a half hour, Danny peered back and saw the red trail he was leaving behind. He laughed, giddy from blood loss. His feet and hands were completely numb. His teeth chattered and his entire body shivered. Even if he got away from the mansion, it wouldn’t be long before he died from hypothermia or blood loss, or both. His laughing grew hysteric. Over a year in captivity, only to die from snow.

He took a second to lean against a tree and dry heave. Nothing came up. His laughs turned into sobs. He laughed and cried and bled all over the tree until he regained enough steel to find his feet again. Now that he couldn’t really feel most of his body, it was somehow easier.

He wrapped his arms around its trunk to keep upright and pressed his face into its bark. He bit into it. The earthy taste of dirt was beautiful. He inhaled as deeply as he could. Then, he closed his eyes, centered himself, and listened.

Birds chirped merrily overhead.

Trees rustled.

Then, a horn honked.

Danny’s head swiveled towards the noise. With borrowed strength, Danny first walked towards that sound, then ran with an unsteady, limping gait.

A deep bark from a dog echoed from behind him. No doubt one of Skulker’s, which meant it was a purebred hunting dog. Loyal. It had probably seen it’s master and was not happy.

Danny urged his body to go faster, to be stronger— just for a little while.

That bark grew louder. It turned into a prolonged chilling howl.

Danny broke into a huge clearing the size of a football field. He stumbled to a halt, afraid of being exposed while crossing it. He could hear distant highway noise coming from the other side.

The dog barked again, closer.

No choice. Danny bolted across the clearing. The snow was deeper and harder to traverse. Danny ignored his body yelling at him that his organs were in trouble. He tugged at his limbs like they were fighting him and practically threw one foot in front of the other.

Another howl. Too close. It was too close.

Danny looked back and saw Cujo bounding towards him from across the clearing.

Frantically, he fumbled for his knife. His fingers were blue and unresponsive. The knife fell into snow. Danny was forced to take his eyes off the incoming hunting dog to look down. He scrambled, finally getting it in hand, just in time for Cujo to be upon him.

He got the animal directly in the chest, his arm somehow narrowly missing the creature’s fangs.

The dog yipped and retreated, bounding several feet away to evaluate its wound. It whined and licked at its side. Huge brown eyes turned to Danny reproachfully.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered. “I had to.”

The dog growled. Its ears flattened and it crouched, preparing to pounce again.

Danny stumbled back heavily. He clutched the knife close, readying himself. From underneath his feet the earth groaned.

The dog galloped away from Danny towards the treeline, back where it had come from. It’s gait grew unsteady. As it neared the edge of the clearing it lumbered around in circles, before collapsing, dead.

Danny took a step towards the road.

A series of cracking and grinding noises reverberated outwards from underneath his feet. His eyes widened, gaze diving for his feet.

Not a clearing, he thought, right before the ground disappeared and he was submerged in freezing black water.

[nastyburger]

What are your thoughts on Cores? Are they all a type of element? (i.e Ice, Fire, Plant, Electric, etc) Could they be based one some kind of temperature slider? What kind of core would the Lunch Lady have? Would she have a simple hot/fire Core? Or would she have a sort of strange “Meat” Core? Idk I’m asking you

i love the concept of cores! i like to think cores are like the ghost’s mind and heart (but rolled into one and put in their chest) with the “mind” half being their obsession and the “heart” half being their element. i like to think theyre all elemental like fire ice and all that! i feel a core merely fuels the ghost, and the element is just a minor detail dictating certain features (do they feel more hot or cold to the touch? is their image slightly more fuzzed out like fire or pulsing with electricity? are they more rigid yet see through like ice? ect. though these traits are hard to see unless your looking really closely or have a good eye like frostbite taking one look at danny and knowing he has an ice core). like its more how the ghost is comprised/holding its ectoplasm together so i dont believe it dictates what their literal powers are.

hmmmmm think about it like atla nations! like sokka is very clearly water tribe with his clothes, culture, weapons, and natural inclination to the cold but that doesnt mean he’s a waterbender. i think about cores like that basically if that makes any sense! a good example of core not equaling power would be ember, she would have a fire core but her powers is clearly based on sound and music despite the aesthetic! which brings us to our next point..........

im very inclined to the idea that obsessions are wrapped up along in the core. its essentially the gas tank to the whole operation. the more a ghost indulges their obsession the more powerful they become and this is where their true power comes from. the actual elemental part is just the outer shell glue holding everything together and only particularly powerful ghosts, ghosts fortunate enough to have their element and obsession align, or ones simply smart enough to figure out how to tap in would learn their element and use it outwardly.

lets use danny as an example of “a powerful ghost using his core”, danny’s power was building so much that he physically felt freezing no what temperature it was or how much he bundled up. even in ghost form he was constantly shivering. danny’s core was literally freezing him from the inside out and needed to release the excess energy, he had no choice but to learn how to do this and just use ice powers. on the other hand though, this means he can use his ice powers far more frequently and exclusively as his main mode of attack if he wanted to. basically ghosts in this category have no choice but to use their elemental core lest they become a ticking time bomb of repression to themselves (i also like to believe tapping into ones core is very difficult to do hence danny needing to be taught instead of like accidentally releasing it or something, many ghosts born with the POTENTIAL to have this really powerful core ability often cease to exist because it destroys themselves from the inside out. thats why theres not many of them). other examples of this category would be frostbite and undergrowth.

contenders for the “fortunate enough to have their element and obsession align” would be technus. electricity is probably the most common type of element for this category in all honesty. technus is obsessed with technology, and while i would say most of his powers are “possessing” technology with his basic package of ghost powers theres no denying the dude definitely has some sparks flying. i feel like if your obsession is already close to your element then its only reasonable you stumble upon a natural way to use it. but heres the key difference between a ghost like technus and a ghost like danny: if technus can use electricity all the time then why bother possessing electronics? simple answer is thats just not sustainable. danny is literally overfilling with energy, he has so much excess its spilling over and will literally kill him if he doesnt blast off a couple of ice beams here and there. technus is pulling energy from his core, its not excess, hes just tapping into this extra reservoir of power, but if he uses it TOO much he will have the exact opposite problem of danny. basically expending too much of your own battery that you die from lack of power. unless you are the first category of ghosts, tapping into your core at all should be used sparingly.

“simply smart enough to figure out how to tap into their core” would be ghosts like ember and skulker. a musician pop star would have nothing to do with fire, likewise a hunter with electricity, but these two are able to minorly use their element abilities. “smart” probably isnt the right word to use here, but more or less for one reason or another, these ghosts figured it out and are now using their cores. thats basically all there is to it. though i will say, having a core strong enough in general to have power to tap into in the first place is another deciding factor for all three of these categories. with that, lets move on to the last set of ghosts.

going aaaaaaaall the way back to your original question of whether or not a ghost like the lunch lady would have a “meat core” or something like that, the final group of ghost are ones that simply dont use their elemental core at all. they instead lean into their obsessions. ghosts in this category can be here for a number of reasons, perhaps the shell of their core is very minor and weak and they cant use that elemental power no matter how hard they try, perhaps theyre so focused on their obsession they may not even need their elemental, perhaps they just simply cant learn how to tap into their core at all because they dont have enough sentience.

i would say the lunch lady and the box ghost are the “too weak to use their elements” ghosts, but that doesnt mean they are powerless! i like to think all ghosts have a “basic package of ghost powers” with levitation/telekinesis being one of them, the only difference among the ghosts is how their obsessions dictate their natural affinity towards certain things. so while the lunch lady doesnt LITERALLY have a meat core, her obsession gives her the natural inclination towards food and meat. she can control these things with the most accuracy and power, it allows her to do things like making the meat suit and whatnot, its just what she’s best at controlling. regardless, these ghosts can never learn how to use their elemental core but thats okay. their obsessions is just a different path to take. speaking of which........

“so focused on their obsession they dont even need their elemental core” is clockwork. hes just so powerful on his own, why would he need to use that? does he even have an elemental core to control? who knows and who cares because the dude can LITERALLY CONTROL TIME. another example would be desiree, maybe even the ghost writer. these guys already gain so much power from their obsession it doesnt matter whether or not they have the ability to use them or not. thats sorta the beauty in this category! because you know who else can fit in here? TUE box ghost. thats right, just because your elemental core is too weak to tap into doesn’t mean youre weak. in the ultimate enemy, the future box ghost is genuinely powerful. his abilities to control boxes extend beyond just levitating and throwing them around, he can make these pink plasma boxes and hes a genuine threat to behold. he leaned into his obsession and it developed enough to this point of power. again, loop this back to the atla comparison i was making earlier, just because someone is a nonbender doesnt make them weak! those nonbenders lean into learning different skill sets until mastery and become very formidable foes. just because youre not born with it doesn’t mean you cant git gud. on the other hand......

the very last kind of ghosts are the “cant learn how to use their core because theyre not sentient/intelligent enough”. these are ghosts like the blob ghosts, ectopusses, maybe even cujo and other animal ghosts if we’re being honest. using your core doesnt come naturally, it needs to be taught and learned, you have to actually train to use it. so in cases like these ghosts, they just dont have the thought process to do this. hell, some of them like the blobbies may not even have fully formed obsessions. their more scribbles, raw ideas, pure emotion giving sentience to ectoplasm. with cujo (assuming he has an elemental shell strong enough), you could argue that you can train him to use his core like its a dog trick, but in all honesty this would be very very difficult to do and whether or not cujo can use it on his own is debatable.

[ladylynse]

Happy Halloween, everyone! Here’s the last of my Star-centric Ectober 2018 fic, Helpless, in honour of Day 31: Breathe.

(Day 13: Help / Day 15: Explain / Day 19: Mistakes / Day 26: Sanity)

How come it seems like the more she finds out, the less she knows?

Danny’s hand clamped over her mouth.

Star did the natural thing: she twisted in his grip, and when she couldn’t break free, she bit him.

Hard.

He yelped, loosening his grip enough that she was able to get away. “Why did you bite me?”

She watched him shake out his hand, wondering how much he’d even felt that. She hadn’t managed to draw blood. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Because you grabbed me.”

“Because you screamed!”

A door banged open, and Danny lunged for her. She didn’t manage to pull away before he had a firm grip on her wrist. Someone—Valerie’s boss, maybe?—looked right at them.

And then past them.

And then he went back inside.

Screams were fairly common in Amity Park; even the locals still got spooked on occasion, and anyone would scream if the Fenton RV was barrelling towards them. It was good practice to see how close the latest ghost fight was to your backyard, too, to see if you needed to head for cover or if the ghost was harmless enough that you could toss a box at it and be done with it.

Star was used to that. Everyone was used to that.

She was not used to being looked through as if she wasn’t even there.

Danny dropped her hand. “No more screaming, okay?”

Star swallowed. She doubted it was supposed to sound like a threat, especially coming from Fenton, but…. “No more screaming,” she whispered.

“Right. Okay. We probably shouldn’t stay here. Let’s walk.”

She wasn’t about to argue—she didn’t want to stay here, and even if she wasn’t keen on being alone with him, running wouldn’t get her anywhere—but maybe…. “What…what about Sam and Tucker?”

“They’re used to me having to ditch them. I’ll fill them in later. They’re going to kill me for this anyway.” He caught her expression. “That was a joke.”

Phantom hadn’t popped up behind her and yelled surprise!, so she had a sinking feeling that that was the only joke.

Danny didn’t try to talk to her for a while. Frankly, Star was happy to trudge after him in a daze. What he’d done….

She couldn’t have imagined it. She didn’t imagine it. That had been intangibility. And invisibility. She couldn’t see how it could be a trick. The timing was too perfect. This was Danny’s doing, except that was impossible, because he was human, not a ghost, and—!

“Just breathe, Star,” he murmured, slowing down so that he was in step with her again.

Easy for him to say.

There wasn’t any way to sugar coat what had happened. She wasn’t mixing up intangibility and invisibility with anything else. He’d actually—!

Danny reached out to tug her into the park, and she flinched away. He looked hurt but didn’t try to touch her again. That made her breathe a little easier, and she followed him. When he left the path and headed for the bushes, she didn’t object. She knew where he was going now. Besides, if he’d wanted to silence her, he could have done that by now. He just wanted to talk somewhere private. She could handle that.

Probably.

“Look,” Danny said when they finally stopped in the recently-made clearing she’d hidden by not half an hour ago. “I thought you said you’d figured it out.”

She could still smell the freshly scarred earth. The remains of Skulker’s suit were on the far side, thawed now but covered in leaves and snapped branches from the fall it had taken. She knew it was just an empty shell, but it felt like a skeleton now. If Danny hadn’t known she’d witnessed the fight, why bring her here specifically? Didn’t he think someone—Skulker himself, maybe, or Technus, or a ghost with a similar affinity—would come back to clean up?

Is that why they were here, so he could catch whoever tried? Prove that this was exactly how he had been helping Phantom all along? And why she’d never seen him do it?

She wouldn’t have thought he’d dare come back when the first ones to show up could very well be his parents.

She still hadn’t answered his question, so she took a steadying breath. “I lied.” It felt strange to admit that so plainly. “People do that. You included.”

He stared at her. “But…but me being a halfa. And Phantom. You said—”

“Obviously, I added it up to the wrong conclusion!” snapped Star. She regretted the words instantly, but she didn’t think she could show weakness right now, so she squared her shoulders and stared him down instead, trying to appear more brave than she felt.

“Right,” he said in a small voice. “So what were you actually thinking?”

“Not whatever this is!” She crossed her arms, hoping he wouldn’t realize that she’d started shaking. She couldn’t seem to stop. “I just…. So it’s definitely not a title?”

Danny blinked. “You thought it was a title?”

“Like…like teacher, or mayor, or…or captain. I don’t know. Nothing made sense. I thought you’d tell me if you thought I already knew.”

Danny snorted. “I walked into that one.” He took a deep breath. “Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“Don’t think I can do that.” Was her voice higher than normal? She couldn’t tell. Maybe. It was definitely hard to keep it from quavering. She wasn’t sure if she was successful in that, either. This was…. She didn’t even know what this was. “Especially after whatever you did at the Nasty Burger.”

“I just phased the chocolate off of you. Or rather you off the chocolate. So it didn’t stain.”

“Sure. You just made me intangible. And then you just made me invisible.”

Danny winced. “At least now you know why you need to keep this a secret?”

Star let out a strangled laugh. “As if anyone would believe me if I tried to tell them. ‘Guess what, guys? Danny has ghost powers!’ Just because we live in Amity Park….” She shook her head. “Is this because of your parents? Or because of Phantom?”

For some reason, Danny smiled. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Fantastic. Something she’d said had amused him. Good thing one of them felt like laughing about this because she felt like crying.

This was insane.

To think she’d doubted his sanity when it was her own she’d needed to worry about. This was impossible. People didn’t just have ghost powers, not even in Amity Park. What else could he do? Float? Fly? Make an ectoblast without burning his flesh? Oh, wait, training with this Frostbite ghost. Could he have been sending ice rays right back at Icebreaker if she hadn’t been there? Is that what he’d done once he’d gotten rid of her while waiting for Phantom to show?

“I’m a halfa. It’s kinda hard to explain. Ectoplasm mixed with my DNA or something like that. Just think of it like half a ghost. That’s what Poindexter told me.”

“Who’s—?”

“Not important right now. Just…. Star. Don’t freak out.”

She opened her mouth to make some smart retort about him telling her not to freak out just making her freak out more, but then—

Then she saw the light. The rings. Watched them pass over him. Change him. Found herself staring at Phantom. At Phantom. Amity Park’s infamous ghost boy. Paulina’s crush. The one who’d saved them all countless times.

“Star. Breathe. Trust me, it’ll help calm you down.”

Calm down? Calm down? He was a ghost—he was Phantom—and he expected her to calm down?

She didn’t want to ask how this had happened. Knowing might make it more real. And she could guess. Except this shouldn’t be possible, how was this actually possible?

The light returned, bringing Fenton back, and she wondered if she could chalk this up to hysteria. Maybe she could talk herself into it being a trick after all. If Fenton and Phantom worked together, maybe their timing really was just that good. And maybe they thought a trick would get her to stop digging into things she shouldn’t. Or maybe Phantom—

Wait.

Danny Fenton? Danny Phantom? He’d barely even changed his name. Or, come to think of it, his appearance. It was just so…. Who would expect Phantom to be human? Absolutely no one. Including—

Star covered her mouth; if her knees weren’t locked, she probably would’ve fallen. “Your parents—”

“Yeah. Don’t tell them.”

“Then….” She swallowed. She didn’t mind leaving the other topic; she could panic over what that meant later. This one wouldn’t necessarily be any easier to hear, but she wanted to know. “I heard Phantom…you…mention Valerie.”

Danny frowned. “When?”

“With Skulker. Here. I followed the fight.” Danny’s expression tightened, but he didn’t say anything. “You…you know how much she hates ghosts. Everyone does. But why—?”

“Ask her, not me. Just don’t…. Don’t tell her, either. Don’t tell anyone. Star, I could have the government breathing down my neck if they realize what I am. And that’s almost more frightening than everything with my parents because my parents might stop. If they realize it’s not a trick. If they believe me. But the Guys in White? They won’t. Ever. Because they won’t care.”

She wanted him to scoff, to tell him to be serious, but she knew they were beyond joking. This was…. “This is crazy.”

“Welcome to my life.” He gave her a sheepish smile, one she was used to him offering Mr. Lancer. “But, uh, since you know…. Can you help me?”

“Help you?”

“Keep this a secret. From everyone else.”

She closed her eyes. It did nothing to help calm her nerves. She couldn’t shut out the memories of what she’d seen or felt, couldn’t forget what she knew, even if she couldn’t understand it all. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Honestly? Because I thought you already knew it. And because after I blew my secret, you deserved more of an explanation, as much for your safety as mine.”

She looked at him again. No smile. No joke.

That wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I’m not asking you to fight with me. Just…just do what you can. Cover for me if you see that I need it, don’t tell Paulina or Valerie or anyone else, that kind of thing. It’s better that no one else knows halfas exist.”

The thought made her chest tighten. “There are more of you?”

Danny cringed. “Um, forget I said that. I can’t tell you that right now.”

“Ever?”

He shrugged.

He didn’t want to tell her more than he thought he had to. That was okay. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know more, especially right now.

Once, she would’ve been delighted to help Phantom in any way she could. Now that she knew he wasn’t really a ghost? It was…less delightful. Knowing Fenton was the town hero was disquieting. It’s not that she didn’t think him capable of it—he obviously was—but she just…. Did half ghost also mean half human? What was he? And how could there be others?

It made her skin crawl.

“Look, Star, just because you know my secret, it doesn’t change who I am. I’m still the same kid you were stuck in detention with last week. I deserved it. You didn’t. I think Youngblood was just trying to get me into trouble anyway.” He started rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you think…. Do you think you’ll be able to look at me the same way, even knowing what you do?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to be able to lie right now. “This is insane, Danny. How do I even…?”

“You can talk to Jazz if you think it’ll help. She knows, too.”

Star realized she was finger combing her hair, one of her nervous habits, and forced herself to stop. “Right. So Jazz knows. And Sam and Tucker. And all the ghosts. Isn’t that, like, counterintuitive to the whole secret identity thing, your enemies knowing exactly who you are anyway?”

“For most of the ghosts,” Danny said carefully, “I’ve been able to call truces outside of Christmas. When I really need it. When we really need it.”

He didn’t see them as his worst enemy. That was reserved for his parents. Or maybe the government. Crud, why had she ever looked into this? Ignorance would’ve been easier than knowing Danny was Phantom!

She took a deep breath and tried to focus. “Let me tell the others that you know Phantom.”

“Star—”

“Hear me out. Not that you work with him, not if you don’t want me to say that, but that you know him. That you and Jazz, I dunno, take his thermos whenever it’s full and release all the ghosts back into the Ghost Zone again. They’ll believe that.”

“I don’t want more attention, Star. Or to give my parents another reason to ground me. Or to try to force me to wear the Spectre Deflector.”

“It’ll keep you from being Dash’s punching bag if he thinks you can introduce him—properly—to the ghost boy. And Paulina will stop any and all bad gossip about all three of you in its tracks. They have social power, Danny, power I don’t have. But I can get you protection if I—”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d rather be a punching bag than tell them a half lie like that. Because even that much is risky. Star, after the Guys in White were in town, Tucker went through the school. They’d bugged our lockers, the classrooms, even the bathrooms. If they think I have more of a connection to Phantom than any other kid out there, I’m just putting myself in more danger.”

The Guys in White—what kind of name was that, anyway?—was the government organization he’d mentioned earlier; no one else would have that kind of power. Or the motive. Not that she was really convinced the government would care so much about high school kids, but maybe they knew more about the truth of Phantom than she had until now. Or maybe Danny was just thinking the worst, though she couldn’t really blame him for that when she could imagine how bad the worst was. “Really? Don’t you think—?”

“I’m not exaggerating. And I’m not overreacting. I’ve given up on a normal life, Star. With the way my grades are, I’ve pretty much given up on my dream of being an astronaut. I’m not normal. My high school experience definitely isn’t normal. Doing something like that to get a pass isn’t worth it. Tides turn fast. The beauty pageant taught me that.”

Star rolled her eyes. “I still can’t believe you picked Manson. I mean, I can, because it’s you and her, but—”

“She wound up in the Ghost Zone because of that,” Danny interrupted. “That whole pageant, me being the judge…. It was all a setup. You want to use your social influence to help me? Trust me when I tell you something’s bad, and spread the word. I don’t care if I wind up the butt of some joke if it saves lives.” A beat, then, “I can’t afford to care.”

Star raised an eyebrow. “And what does your sister think when she hears you talk like that?” She was glad the conversation had drifted. She was on familiar ground now. Talking about Danny’s social life, even his safety, seemed more normal than him talking about what being a halfa really meant. She really didn’t want to think about that right now. Focusing on consequences she could understand was a lot easier.

Danny huffed. “When I accidentally do, she gives me a lecture. And a hug. It’s annoying.”

Star didn’t need to have a sibling to know that it wasn’t annoying. Not really. If it was, it was at least annoying but appreciated.

He wanted to change the topic; she could see that from his body language. She sucked in a breath and obliged. “Okay. So. You’re…you’re actually Phantom. A halfa. Probably because of your parents, but you don’t want to share details, and I get that. Huge secret, at least from the humans, with potentially bad consequences if something gets out.” He opened his mouth, probably to correct her, but she held up a hand. “Let me finish, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled. He started tracing lines in the dirt with the toe of his shoe instead of facing her, but that was fine. This was almost easier to work out when he wasn’t staring her in the face.

“You don’t want to tell anyone anything, not even something small, like that you help Phantom. Even though that’s what you told me.”

“That was only because you kept asking questions,” he muttered. “I had to tell you something to get you off my back.”

“Right. I’ll help you come up with better lies later because obviously no one else is any better at it than you are.” Star took another deep breath and tried to gather her thoughts. “You could have tried lying again, you know. I might not have believed you, but I probably wouldn’t have pushed it. That was…. It was freaky. I would’ve told myself that you and Phantom were just trying to mess with me or something. I still tried.”

Danny looked up. “And how long do you think you would have believed that before realizing that you were just lying to yourself? How long before you decided the curiosity was driving you crazy and you started taking bigger and bigger risks to find out the truth? You’d be good with one of my mom’s Fenton Utility Weapons, but I’m pretty sure you don’t already have one. Which would be a problem if you accidentally poked the wrong bear. Some of these guys have multiple sets of teeth, and their bark definitely isn’t worse than their bite.”

He thought she’d run out after ghosts on her own. “You think I’d be stupid enough to do that?”

He snorted. “You followed me and Skulker, didn’t you? After you almost got hit by some of his missiles?”

“I didn’t tell you that until after you told me.”

“Doesn’t make me wrong. It just proves my point. Not telling you now would be dangerous. If you hadn’t seen me use my powers, sure, I probably would’ve tried to come up with something again, but I can’t…. I can’t cover that up, Star. That’s why I’m trying to be more careful about it. Especially now that I can control it. I couldn’t off the start. It was rough. That’s why I kept dropping stuff in chem.”

Star blinked. “That’s when this started? Way back then?” But he was right, of course. Before Phantom was called Phantom, even before he’d been dubbed Invis-o-Bill….

“That’s when everything started. When my parents finished the portal. When all the ghosts started coming through. This is my fault. I’m just trying to fix my mess. Sam and Tucker got sucked into it. Then Jazz. Now you. And I really don’t want you caught up in this. So just…. Trust what I tell you. Keep your head down. Cover for me if Sam and Tucker can’t. Pretend you don’t know, and hopefully the ghosts will leave you alone.”

Star stared at him. “You think I’m going to be a target now? I thought you said telling me was safer!”

“It is.”

“Not if I have ghosts after me!”

“You won’t! Or you shouldn’t. Not more than normal. Just…trust me.”

It was the same thing he’d told her back in the beginning of all this. He hadn’t wanted to tell her anything then, hadn’t wanted to let her in on this. Even now that he had, he didn’t want to tell her everything. She wasn’t even sure if this was half of it. She’d been left with questions then, and she definitely still had questions now, but—

Star took a slow, steady breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Calm down. Think clearly. Figure things out.

“Please?”

She hadn’t really trusted that Fenton could help her when she’d been trapped with him, but he had. And she certainly trusted Phantom to save her in the past. So if it came down to it, knowing they were the same person, knowing what Danny was really capable of—

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll trust you. And I’ll keep your secret. But you’ve gotta do something for me, too.”

He looked worried now. “What?”

“I don’t want to go out and fight ghosts all the time, but if I’m caught in another attack, especially if I might be a target, I don’t want to be helpless like that again. I hate that. So get me a weapon and show me how to use it.”

She wasn’t lying; she did hate feeling helpless. It wasn’t just to get Valerie off her back, either, even though Star knew Valerie wouldn’t drop the subject until she at least agreed to think about learning something. Of course, Star was happy to let Valerie think her influence was the reason behind it all. It was a lot easier than explaining how she might find herself targeted by more ghosts than she had in the past.

Besides, if learning some weapon—not the lipstick thing; that really would be too dangerous for her—helped clear up whatever Danny wasn’t telling her about Valerie, then all the better. Not that Star would push if it didn’t. One earth-shattering revelation was enough for this week. Not that she thought it was that bad, whatever it was. The venom in Valerie’s voice whenever she talked about ghosts definitely wasn’t faked. There was no way Valerie was another one of these halfas Danny didn’t want to talk about.

Hopefully, she didn’t actually know any of the others.

Not that Danny made it easy to believe that when he purposefully didn’t tell her anything else.

It made her think she did know more of them.

She didn’t want to.

Danny smiled, his relief helping to soothe her nerves, just a little bit. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand.

They shook on it.

She didn’t know what she was getting into, what she’d already gotten herself into. Not really. But at least…at least she’d be a little more prepared for whatever Amity Park decided to throw at her next.

(see more fics | bonus chapter)

[ambisinistous-blog]

tags

#Dpxdc#Dp x dc#Dcxdp#Dc x dp#Danny Phantom#Dc#Dcu#Constantine#Blob Ghosts#Blobby#Constantine adopts a Blob Ghost#Constantine gets a Pet#Constantine gets a sidekick#Blobby is really nice#Blobby is surprisingly intelligent for a Blob Ghost#It's not a “Danny became a blob” type of situation or anything like that#Its just a relatively smart Blob Ghost#Like Skulker but more kind and less smart#Zatanna absolutely loves him#Boston likes him too#He just wishes Blobby would stop trying to feed him#(Boston is a weak ghost even by blob standards and Blobby fell into the “adoption instinct” trope)

Constantine gets a pet Blob

So! Constantine is just doing a job one day when he comes across a little Blob Ghost.

He doesn't think much of it, just feeds it some physical Emotions he had in his pocket (magic stuff idk) and walks off.

But the Blob follows him. So he walks faster, and it follows faster. So he runs, and the Blob is now chasing him. Eventually he loses it by hiding around a corner, waits for it to pass, and peeks out to see if it's still there.

Its not, so he walks back out and opens a Portal back home. He takes one more look behind him, sees nothing, and walks in. Only to be met with the Blob floating in the center of his living room.

He figures after a while that he can't get it to leave, so he just names it "Blobby" and lets it hang around him whenever he leaves for a Job.

Turns put he is actually really helpful on Jobs, his ability to sense emotions was more powerful than even John's best spells. It's makes it really easy to solve missing persons cases when he can just have Blobby search for the person's emotions.

He's also really good when Constantine in making deals. Blobby is great at detecting when a Demon is trying to swindle him, even if he always catches it without his help.

Thats really it, I just wanted to give Constantine a Blob Ghost Sidekick