#an internally: I would rather he be blowing stuff up on school property than whatever this is

[apotelesmaa]

Wrt my tags If Tsukasa is absent for 1 day rui acts like a grieving wife whose husband was sent off to fight in the war & if Rui is absent for 1 day tsukasa is like “finally some peace and quiet I’ll be able to focus on my schoolwork instead of monitoring him” & then he spends the rest of the day staring out the window and sighing dramatically

I don’t think tsukasa can stop rui even as a member of the disciplinary committee but I do think rui lets him *think* tsukasa has stopped him from doing something every so often so tsukasa doesn’t fall into a depression. It’s like when they reward working dogs who keep failing a task so they don’t get frustrated and quit.

[five-rivers]

Mask

Danny slouched against the back wall of the ballroom, mask dangling from his fingers. He didn't want to be here. If his parents weren't out there having the time of their lives, he wouldn't be here, but someone had to keep an eye on them and keep them from getting sucked into whatever scheme Vlad had this time.

He sighed, tracking the bulk of his father across the dance floor. His mother was harder to see, but she was never far behind.

A masquerade ball. Really. Ancients, Vlad was so pretentious.

(Internally, Danny thought that a masquerade ball could be cool... except, well. Vlad.)

His mother briefly emerged from the crowd, caught his eye, and mimed putting on his mask. Apparently she was watching him, too. With a grumble, he put the mask back on. Vlad had given it to him, and although he couldn't see or feel anything wrong with it, he still felt that it was suspect.

"Did your parents make you come, too?"

Danny glanced over. A girl was standing a few feet away. Her dress was red and puffy, and her mask was golden. Her hair was done up in complicated braids. She was, perhaps, one or two years younger than he was, though it was hard to tell with the mask. She was certainly shorter than him.

The silhouette of her dress crumpled as she also slumped against the wall. "You'd think that a masked ball would be, you know, cool, but it's just a bunch of old people jumping around and trying to talk business with the 'great Vlad Masters.'"

"Ouch," said Danny. "At least my parents aren't trying to do that, I guess."

"Oh, yeah? What are they doing, then?" asked the girl.

"I honestly have no idea," said Danny, watching his parents gyrate across the floor again. "Dancing? You could call it dancing." He shrugged.

"Ah," said the girl. "My name's Ellie, by the way."

"Danny," said Danny. "Nice to meet you."

"Same. So, what do your parents do?"

"They're scientists," said Danny, not wanting to get into the whole 'ghost hunting' thing. This wasn't Amity Park. Most people didn't believe in ghosts.

Ellie bobbed her head. "Cool, cool. I kinda want to be a scientist. Like, finding out new things, it just sounds really awesome?"

"Yeah, it can be fun sometimes," said Danny. "I don't understand most of it, though." He rolled his shoulders. Actually, he understood a lot more of his parents' work than he let on, in some specific areas more than them, even. Admitting that wasn't wise, however. "What field are you interested."

"Astrophysics, definitely," said Ellie, firmly. "Space is the coolest thing."

Danny grinned. "Oh, yeah. There's just so much. I mean, have you ever looked at the Hubble Deep Fields?"

.

Two teens talking together and having a good time evidently had a magnetic property. Three other high school kids had come to join them, all boys.

One boy was very tall and broad. During their introduction, Danny reflected that if he was on Casper's football team, Dash wouldn't be the star player anymore. Unlike Dash, however, Dustin was quiet, barely speaking at all and always deferring to the others.

The second boy introduced himself as Damien, and he was also tall, but thin and skeletal, like a strong breeze would blow him away. He seemed to realize this, because he had a pair of small enamel pins on the lapel of his suit: a skeleton and a scarecrow.

The last, Dmitri, a redhead, was about the same size as Danny. He reminded Danny of Jazz, for some reason (clearly, her psychology-camp-induced absence was driving him a little crazy). And, less pleasantly, of Wes. He had... a lot of questions. Not quite to the point of being annoying, but still a lot. There was also something wrong with his mask. It was hard to tell, but it looked almost as if one eye of it had been filled in. Danny didn't want to mention it, and ruin the atmosphere, though.

There was an atmosphere. Shockingly enough, these kids liked him, and they were much cooler than Danny would have expected of kids who's parents had been invited by Vlad. Which, yeah, was maybe a weird prejudice on his part. His parents had been invited by Vlad, after all.

Danny liked them back.

"... and the names of the dark matter candidates, whoever thought them up was a genius," said Dmitri, waving his hands.

"Well, yeah," said Danny, grinning, "if they were allowed to pick the names, they probably were the ones to come up with the whole idea for it in the first place. But I think MACHOs might be more likely than WIMPs. You've heard about the exoplanets they found last year?" He let his eyes briefly lose focus. "I bet there are even more of them, that we just can't see yet."

"Yeah, but there have been a lot of tests for MACHOs," said Damien. "You'd think we'd have seen a least a couple. And what about dark energy?"

"I don't think those two are actually related," said Ellie.

"Sure they are. They both have the word dark in them."

"Yeah, but I don't think they actually have anything to do with each other," said Ellie.

"They just have similar names," said Dustin.

"We can look it up, later," said Dmitri.

"Speaking of related," said Danny, "how are you guys related?"

There was a pause. "How'd you know?" asked Ellie. "Like, I could understand if you could see our faces, but..."

Danny shrugged. "I don't know. It just... Felt that way?

"We're cousins," said Damien, leaning forward. His body language spoke of nerves.

Danny couldn't imagine why Damien would be nervous about that, but he probably had his reasons. Family drama, maybe. It wasn't Danny's place to ask, he was a stranger.

Even if he was rather wishing he wasn't. How often did he meet people who shared so many of his interests? Never.

(Well, they were mostly just talking about the one interest, space, but still. And Dustin had mentioned liking Dumpty Humpty.)

"That's cool," he said. He would have liked to have helped. Maybe he still could, somehow? He and his parents were going to be here for a few days.

If he focused, there was an aura of something being not quite right with the cousins. Nothing he could put his finger on, and nothing to do with them as people, but... something.

"Hey," said Ellie, "what do you say we raid the snack table? It can't all be super fancy stuff we can't name, can it? I mean, at least there's punch."

Danny followed Ellie's gaze to the refreshments table. When he'd been over there before, everything had been covered, and he hadn't felt like fighting his way back across the floor and potentially losing sight of his parents. He glanced at them now. They looked like they were having fun.

He lightly bit at his lower lip. He knew Vlad had to be up to something. Otherwise, why bother with all of this?

But... new friends... He liked friends, and Vlad was always up to something. Danny deserved to have a little fun now and again, even so.

"Sure," he said. "We can ruin our dinner."

Ellie snickered. "That's the spirit!" she said, patting Danny on the back and slipping past him.

He smirked at the pun, even if it was unintentional.

"Yeah, better do it now, before there's a punchline," said Dmitri. "Wouldn't want people to think we're in a joke."

Danny choked a little, trying to swallow a laugh.

"That was terrible. You're terrible," said Damien.

"Hey, our new friend seems to like it," said Ellie.

Danny's core did a little bounce when she said friend. He really did want to be friends. "What can I say," he said, shrugging. "Better a joke, than a fist?"

Dmitri smiled broadly. Damien groaned, arcing his long body back dramatically.

There wasn't a line for the punch, or even very many people around the snack table at all. What few people had been there moved off, glaring, when the five children descended on the table. He caught Ellie sticking her tongue out at a woman who was giving them a particularly dirty look.

They gathered cups of punch and piled tiny plates high with pastries before retreating to a nearby corner to resume their conversation.

Danny was having a harder time following it this time, though. He felt tired. Drained. A little overheated. He wasn't used to wearing this suit. He went back to refill his punch a few times.

Words started to blur together. The inside of his head felt staticky. But he also... really content... New friends... His core felt strange...

"Danny?" a hand on his shoulder made him flinch, which made him sway rather dangerously. "Are you okay?"

Danny blinked at Ellie. "I don't feel..." he mumbled. What? What didn't he feel?

"Did someone spike the punch?"

"There's a room back here, you can lie down."

"I'll go get Father, he'll know what to do."

He was gently guided out of the ballroom, most of his weight resting on Dustin. There was a reason he should stay in the ballroom, but he couldn't remember what it was. Was someone missing?

Wait, spike the punch? Was he drunk?

The thought was lost almost instantly. His core, and therefore his mind, was lost in delirium and delight. New friends! But they needed his help, there was something wrong with them. But he could help! So, everything was good, and he loved his new friends very much.

The place they took him to was darker and quieter than before. They laid him down on something soft and squishy, and he giggled, weakly. They were talking. They might have been talking to him, but he couldn't understand aaaaaaaaanything.

He was so happy, helping his new friends.

The light changed as the door to the room opened. Music and other noises from the party briefly grew in volume, and were muffled again as the door swung closed.

"Well, that was faster than expected."

Vlad's voice briefly pulled him back into lucidity, and he struggled to sit up before collapsing again. No, all his energy had to go to his friends. They needed it. No time for Vlad.

Still, he glared up at the older man as he leaned over him. There were two Vlads. Was that because he was seeing double, or because Vlad had split himself?

The question was answered as Vlad picked Danny up. Danny was distressingly limp. He couldn't redirect any energy to his muscles, and thinking was hard. There was a thunk, and one of the walls opened up, revealing a hidden staircase. Vlad carried Danny down, but that was okay, because his new friends came with them, and- Oh!

There was another new friend down here!

Danny's core reached out to his newest new friend.

.

He came back to himself with only the sensation that something was wrong wrong wrong. He jolted up, only to be stopped by a pressure across his chest and shoulders. He squinted, trying to see. His mask was gone, and the clothing he was in felt different, looser.

"What'd you do with'm?" he demanded.

"They're just in the next room, Daniel," said Vlad. "Calm down. I had no idea you'd get attached to them so quickly. I had a whole program for this week for you to get to know them."

"No," said Danny. He finally managed to get his eyes open. He was in Vlad's lab, lying on something padded. He'd been strapped down, and there were various IVs running into his arms. One of them was a lurid ectoplasmic green.

"No?"

"Won't calm down. What did you do to me?"

"Nothing."

"This isn't nothing." He finally managed to find Vlad with his eyes. The man was sitting almost behind him. It was difficult to bend his eyes to look that way.

"Oh, very well then. I increased the energy levels in your core, allowing you to wake up and us to have this lovely conversation. The rest, my dear boy, was all you. An instinctive reaction on the part of your core, although you, as usual, took it too far."

"What?"

Vlad walked around the tube, to a position where Danny could see him more easily. "This will require some explanation. I realize this situation isn't intuitive, to one such as yourself." Vlad waved a dismissive hand.

Danny scowled, but had the presence of mind to bite his tongue. He needed to know what was going on. He was beginning to suspect that Vlad had drugged him, put something in the food or punch that only affected ghosts and half ghosts, but he had a feeling that wasn't quite right.

"After you and Jasmine blew up my football field, I came to the conclusion that you would never accept me as a father," said Vlad, with the air of someone narrating a tragedy. "I was forced to reconsider my methods and goals. You see, Daniel, all I really wanted was to be loved."

In Danny's personal opinion, that was a load of crap. Vlad, more than anything else, wanted control, he wanted power.

""To be loved," continued Vlad, "and understood." He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "And who could understand me, but a fellow half ghost? So, I decided to make one."

"Wait, wait, hold up," said Danny, beyond horrified. "You made someone a half ghost? You killed someone?"

"What? No, don't be ridiculous, Daniel. I cloned you."

He pointed at something behind and to the left of Danny, and Danny craned his head back to see a tall, vertical tube full of ectoplasm. Inside floated a boy who looked just like Danny in Phantom form. The boy's eyes were closed, and there were tubes and wires connected to his body.

"That's just as bad. Oh my gosh, Vlad, you can't just clone people! Why didn't you clone yourself?"

Vlad's face twisted like he had just bitten into a lemon. "I had attempted to do so, initially, however, my ectoacne and other instabilities in my makeup precluded me from doing so. Cloning you was my only choice."

"We cured your ectoacne," said Danny.

"Yes. But I had already started this project. It did take time to grow your brother into maturity, Daniel. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, David was unstable."

"David?"

"The name given to him by your other siblings. Do keep up, Daniel."

"Other- You made more clones? Why?"

"I had done some research," said Vlad. "Into how ghosts normal reproduce and stabilize children. I discovered that family members, those ghosts with similar ectosignatures and core properties, play a major role in stabilizing and providing energy to newly formed ghosts. My ectosignature was too different from David's, but I thought that if I could just make one stable clone..." Vlad trailed off, the look in his eyes almost haunted. "I tried everything. A mix of your DNA and ectosignature and mine, extra DNA from your sister, your mother, even your father. Nothing worked!" Vlad threw his hands up, angrily. "They are all more stable, but none of them are completely stable!"

It took Vlad several seconds to calm down, during which Danny put a few more puzzle pieces together.

"Ellie and the others, they're all clones?" That hurt, for some reason. Did they like him at all, or were they only being nice to him because Vlad told them to.

"Yes," said Vlad. "Danielle is the most stable." He smoothed down the front of his lab coat.

"So, you need me to stabilize them. That's why you drugged me?"

"I didn't drug you Daniel. Your collapse was a surprising to me as it was to you. Based on my readings, I can only conclude that your core recognized Danielle, Dustin, Damien, and Dmitri as family, registered their instability, and attempted to rectify it by boosting your ectosignature and sending them energy. Unfortunately, the effort overwhelmed you. You are only a child yourself, and..." Vlad trailed off, almost sheepish, "it is my understanding that they process is usually undertaken by multiple adult family members, and with only one child at a time."

"Great," said Danny. "And you didn't plan for that to happen at all."

"I had believed that you would bond with them more slowly," said Vlad. "That your reaction wouldn't be so extreme."

"Well, it was," said Danny. "But they're stable now, right? So, you can let me go." He tugged against the restraints again. He hoped they were stable. He had heard his parents talk about what happened to destabilized ghosts.

"Sadly," said Vlad, sounding like he was gritting his teeth, "that is an incorrect assumption."

There was a long pause.

"I want to make a deal with you, Daniel," said Vlad.

"You- Are you asking me for help?" Not that Danny could refuse. For one, he was tied up, for another...

"I suppose. For my children. They are children, Daniel, and they will die if they aren't stabilized. Painfully. Perhaps not today, but within the month."

Danny's heart clenched, and his core shivered. Even if Ellie and the others had been tricking him, he didn't want them to die. He would do what Vlad asked, if it stabilized his... cousins.

He was going to go with cousins for now. Siblings felt a little too close at the moment, and 'clones' was sort of dehumanizing. They were the ones who had started it, calling each other cousins.

But even if he was going to cooperate with Vlad, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try to get as many concessions out of Vlad as possible. True, he wasn't going to get very many, Vlad was holding the cards in this game, but he still might be able to get something.

"What kind of deal?" he asked, cautiously.

"You cooperate with stabilizing the cores of my children," said Vlad, "and I will make sure your little town stays safe and protected. Fail to cooperate, and not only will Amity Park be exposed and helpless against any ridiculous poltergeist that comes through your parents' portal, but you will be unconscious. As demonstrated earlier, you do not need to be awake for your core to be at work."

Danny frowned. Apart from the threat (honestly, Vlad was borderline pathological) that was a pretty good deal. Heck, Danny wasn't even supposed to be back in Amity Park until the end of the week.

It was a good deal... too good.

"Exactly how long do you think it'll take, anyway?" he asked. "To stabilize all of them?"

"I don't know, Daniel, this hasn't ever been done before."

Danny scowled. He hated it when Vlad said his name with that supercilious tone of voice. "Fine. How long does it take with ghosts, Vlad? You said you researched it, didn't you?"

"The time varied based on a number of factors," said Vlad.

"It takes a long time, doesn't it?" asked Danny. "I want a cover story. One that doesn't make me disappearing for Ancients know how long my fault. I want to be able to talk to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz whenever I want. And I want to be able to veto anything too invasive or dangerous."

"You're hardly in a position to make demands."

Danny made a shrugging motion, hoping that Vlad wouldn't call his bluff.

"I can do the first," said Vlad, finally, "but if you want it to hold up, the second is impossible. The last is ridiculous. Cooperation means full cooperation, nothing less."

That was about what he had expected. "If I can't communicate with them, they'll just show up here, guns blazing. You know that."

"I think I can handle three human teenagers."

"Sure, but do you want to have to?"

Vlad frowned. "I will consider the merits of your suggestion," he said. "I'm impressed, actually. I didn't think you had it in you, to bargain with lives on the line." Danny swallowed to keep himself from gagging. "But in the meantime, do you agree to cooperate, or no?" He drummed his fingers on something Danny couldn't see.

Between Danny's Obsession, and what were apparently ghostly family bonding instincts, there really wasn't any way for him to say no. "Yes, fine, whatever. I'll cooperate. You can let me out of these things, now." He pulled at the restraints again.

"Oh, no," said Vlad, smiling, then moving out of Danny's line of sight. "Those are for your own protection. You see, your core isn't really mature enough to cope with sustaining five other cores, so we are going to have to significantly supplement your ectoenergy levels."

There was a small click, and the table Danny was on started moving backwards. After a few inches, it angled up, until it was vertical. Danny discovered that there were little platforms under his bare feet, and other supports to keep him upright in his new position. Directly to his left, floated the clone, David, in the glass tube. Danny's core seemed to strain in that direction. His eyelids fluttered.

Vlad walked back over and pulled something with two tubes attached to it from the space over Danny's head. "Open up," he said.

"Why?" asked Danny.

"This is a breathing mask," said Vlad. "It will supply you with oxygen and atomized ectoplasm at three times the levels generally available in the Ghost Zone. But this part," he tapped part of the mask that was fitted with something like a bite guard, "needs to go inside your mouth."

After a moment of hesitation, Danny opened his mouth, and Vlad inserted the breathing mask. Almost at once, Danny could tell the difference. The air coming through was just so much richer.

Vlad pressed the cup of the mask over Danny's mouth and nose and sealed the edges with tape.

"Now," Vlad said, as he began pulling other things from the ceiling and attaching them to Danny, "in a few minutes, I'm going to start giving you instructions. I want you to follow them. Cooperate, do you understand? The first thing I want to do is stabilize David enough that he is no longer dependent on the containment chamber to survive."

Danny was getting a bad feeling. Many of the wires Vlad was attaching to him mirrored wires attached to David. Vlad attached a few more wires, and inserted several needles. Danny tried to hiss at those, but the mask acted as an effective gag. Finally, Vlad inserted two small plugs into Danny's ears and stepped back, half smiling.

As Danny had almost expected, a curved glass barrier sprang from behind him and encircled him, trapping him in a chamber much like the one David occupied. Ectoplasm began to bubble up from below, from a source Danny couldn't see.

"You will be submerged shortly." Vlad's voice rang clear in the earbuds. "This will allow you to intake ectoplasm through your skin. You will also be in the same environment as David."

The ectoplasm hit the soles of Danny's feet, and he flinched. It was rising rapidly.

"Do try not to panic," said Vlad. "Now, I want you to focus on David."

It was at Danny's knees, now. He took a deep breath, reassuring himself that the mask was in place. He wasn't going to drown. He looked over at David. What did it even mean, to focus on him? Danny had no idea what he was like, not really. Like him, he guessed, but not?

"With your ghost sense, Daniel," said Vlad. "Not your eyes."

Danny scowled at him, trying to distract himself from the fact that the ectoplasm was up to his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to do... that. It wasn't something he normally did and had no idea how to go about it but-

Ah. Oh, there it was. There he was, Danny's new friend. That was easier than expected. Danny's core began to purr, some of the euphoria from earlier in the night returning.

The ectoplasm closed over his head.

"Good," said Vlad, his voice slightly warped. "It appears that you have connected. Now, I am going to stimulate and amplify that connection. I want you to stay focused."

Of course Danny would stay focused. He was helping his friend, wasn't he? He always stayed focused when it came to that.

Several of the places Vlad had attached wires began to tingle. His core jumped and he twitched. Everything briefly took on a very severe cast.

It was very hard to think, after that.

.

Vlad smiled at his readouts. Securing Daniel's cooperation beforehand had been worthwhile. Had he been struggling, it would have been difficult to establish the connection to this extent. David's energy and stability levels were increasing slowly but steadily. Despite the measure he was taking, Daniel's were dropping. Some of the data concerning his human half was less than ideal. That would be troublesome to deal with later on.

He took a moment to check in on his duplicate upstairs. The party was going well. Jack and Maddie hadn't noticed Daniel's absence yet. With luck, they wouldn't until the next morning.

Overall, tonight had been fruitful. With Daniel, he would be able to stabilize all five of the clones, and, perhaps, he would even be able to win over Daniel. He had seen the relaxed smile on his face when he had been with the clones. Vlad knew how powerful ghost instincts could be.

He stood up and walked over to the room where he had asked his children to wait. They should be told that their elder siblings would make a full recovery shortly.

[badmcuposts]

A New Favorite Thing

No warnings

Good ole irondad and spiderson as suggested by @dantedeletes

Set like, a week or two after Civil War this is very very very early in their relationship.

Tony wants to learn how this slightly annoying snot-nosed kid from queens manufactured webbing that a genius billionaire can’t replicate for the life of him. In the end, he learns the slightly-annoying-snot-nosed-kid-from-queens is actually a miniature version of himself, and decides to keep him.

-

All Tony wanted was to find out how the kid designed that stupid webbing.

He had spent five-no-six days holed up in the lab over this, and nothing. Pep was getting concerned, rightfully so, that he hadn’t just asked Peter to show him. But how was he supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey buddy can you teach me how to do the thing i have multiple phds in because you’re smarter than me at 12?’ The whole thing was god awful embarrassing.

Which would be exactly the reason as to why Tony was about to burn the whole tower down if she pulled something like this again. Inviting the kid herself like she owned the place. Well, she did, but that wasn’t the point of it all. He didn’t even know what to do with an annoying little kid!

It wasn’t that Tony didn’t trust Peter in his lab. He had seen the kid’s grades. It was more or less worrying about what he was supposed to do in the highly unlikely event that the kid wasn’t as trustworthy as he seemed. If they got in there and Peter couldn’t hold his own, he would be at a total loss to keep control in the lab. There were so many questions, so many worries in case something went wrong.

Was he even old enough for the energy drinks? What else was in the minifridge up in the lab? Bagels? Did he like bagels? What if Peter got scared up in the workshop? Would he fit into Tony’s spare safety goggles? What if he didn’t like the way the workshop was organized? What if Peter didn’t want to be around Tony after this and got himself hurt?

And this would be why Tony really hadn’t contacted Peter, huh? His own insecurity about how he was supposed to continue on with his relationship with a something-year-old child after no doubt traumatizing the poor thing in a battle and then embarrassing him via benching halfway through.

He’d read the countless articles in old newspapers, seen the police files involving the kid. The Parker boy was a ticking time bomb, no doubt about it. If Tony didn’t keep him in line and make sure not to hurt him any more, those special abilities might turn into weapons of mass destruction. And he really didn’t want to start planning for the kid to go to the dark side.

But, it was time to man up and face the music. Or, rather, the child standing three feet away with the most worn duffle bag to ever grace the eyes of someone with the Stark name. Tony gently smiled, raising his hand for a polite shake that Peter took with innocent eagerness and aptitude. God, this kid is definitely gonna break something up there.

“Peter, nice of you to join me. I’d love to talk a bit about that webbing we discussed before.”

Peter’s smile faltered a little, but returned within the second.

“Yeah, Miss Potts said to bring my stuff. Though, if you wanna do me a favor, let’s not break any of it. Technically, I’m borrowing it from the school labs.”

“You don’t have your own equipment?”

Tony was honestly shocked. Where had Peter been making all of this? He couldn’t have been using public school half-ass production level equipment this whole time, could he?

“No, sir. I just make the web fluid during chemistry when the teacher turns around.”

Well, that answers that question. How smart was this kid? A few years of straight As indicated intelligence but, at this rate, shouldn’t he have skipped a few grades?

“Well then, looks like it’s time to get down to business, isn’t it?”

Peter’s breathing managed to begin to replicate the tune of “I’ll Make a Man Out Of You”. This kid...

“Yessir.”

And as they reached the elevator, Friday automatically carrying the pair of nerds to floor 79, Tony finally said it.

“Stop calling me sir, you make me feel older every time you speak than most people do when they remind me that my father was young and spry in the smack dab middle of World War Two.”

“Only if you start referring to this stuff as “web fluid”, Mr. Stark. It’s very important to repect scientific nomenclature in the form given by the original scientist.” “How much of that was a the answer to a science class pretest?” “The whole thing.”

Fair enough, you little-

The elevator came to a halt (smoothly, of course. It’s stark tech) at the workshop. Luckily for Tony, he had plenty of extra space so Peter would feel comfortable. He pointed to a desk a few feet from his own and briefly stated “Set your gear up over there, tell me what chemicals you need.”

Peter, however, didn’t seem to willing to let his host take the lead.

“Oh no, sir, I brought my own stuff. Midtown is loaded with spare bottles. They won’t notice.”

Two could play at that game, couldn’t they? Well, there was always one way to find out.

“Yeah, and you’re gonna leave them in the bag and put them back tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow’s saturday.”

“Monday, whatever. My cabinet has a billion variations of every science-related doohickey known to man and it could use some more use. No point wasting all the money that school probably spends with the intent of it being used in class, huh? And what did I say about calling me sir?”

“Sorry, sir.”

The kid was smirking. What did Tony do to deserve such cruel treatment from the universe?

Peter tossed his bag onto the desk with enough force to make any non-enhanced teenager look like they were about to throw a tantrum. But, Peter merely glanced at his hands, sighed, and checked that none of the gear had gotten damaged.

Right, super kid. Not a normal intern. Not an intern at all, technically. Unless...

Nope. Later, Tones.

Tony quickly assisted in the set-up, hoping he could rush this and memorize the formula as quickly as inhumanly possible. And that’s when he noticed, Peter’s notes were in the back of his chemistry notebook. How in pointbreak’s name had nobody figured this kid out yet?

Pushing his lack of faith in humanity and all of its company, Tony unlocked the cabinet of infinite chemicals.

“Alright can you grab me some... uhhhhh.... Salicylic Acid, Touline, Methanol, Carbon Tetrachloride, H-Heptane, Potassium Carbonate, Ethyl Acetate, Hexate, BHA, Sodium Tetraborate, and why not just jump the gun and grab the Cactivator Activated Silica Gel now instead of waiting until later?”

Jesus christ this might as well be a liquid bomb with how little he trusts a child with any of these products. Especially silica gel. Don’t kids get high off of that stuff? No, no, Tony, be a good mentor-figure-thing. Now was the time to let the kid have a little room to make mistakes. Let him blow up the lab now instead of later. Sounds responsible.

“Gotcha, Wiz Kid.”

“First off, if I was a sim, my childhood aspiration would be Rambunctious Scamp.”

Tony deadpanned at Peter for another three minutes and twelve seconds before finally responding.

“I literally have no idea what you are talking about, ever.”

Well, ain’t that the truth. However, if Tony was being honest with himself, a little back and forth did wonders to calm his nerves. Maybe the kid wasn’t all too frightening. More like a kitten in the freezing rain.

“What’s next?”

Peter grabbed the worn notebook and examined the page closely.

“Uhhhh, now we add activator degas for 30 minutes, I think. Or is it 45? Wait a sec, I’ll find it somewhere in my notes.”

“You don’t have it memorized?”

“Well, usually I don’t have an audience.”

“Touché.”

Time continued on like that for the next half hour. Back and forth, quip after quip, each remark from the thir-fif-twe-si-fourteen year old “August 10th, 2001, the day the world wishes had never happened. No, it’s a joke Mr. Stark. More of a gen z kind of thing.” reminding Tony of himself. Perhaps, in another world, he could have been as amazing as Peter Parker was proving to be.

He even introduced Peter to the bots, who immediately decided they had a new brother to play with and went hog wild trying to play ball with the kid who was far more interested in marveling at their hotwiring. To Tony, their designs were juvenile and messy. However, to the teenaged dumpster diver next to him, they were beautiful.

And once time slowed, they finally went back to work.

“Now we need to heat it, slowly! Don’t hurt my baby, Mr. Stark!”

“Your baby?”

“You literally just called a little robot your baby but I’m the weird one, ok.”

“Dum-E has artificial feelings, your super glue wouldn’t care if you magically turned to ash.”

Ok, too far. But the kid took it as a joke, no doubt. He snorted the whole way through his laugh. Snorted.

“How slowly is this supposed to be anyway?”

“For the next 24 hours.”

“24 HOURS? What are we supposed to do until then?”

“I dunno. I can swing over tomorrow and we can finish it up then.”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.”

Tony helped Peter load his equipment back up, hoping the kid wouldn’t get caught stealing school property.

“Heck, maybe make it a tradition. Lab days until one of us explodes from too much science.”

And Tony smiled. The brightest, most genuine smile he had ever given in his lifetime.

“You got it, kiddo.”

Yeah, Lab days.

He could get behind that.

It might just be his new favorite thing.

[islandpcosjourney]

Inspiration

12th April 2019

Where do we go to find inspiration if it doesn’t come to us naturally? Sometimes it just hits you out of nowhere but if you go in search of it you might be successful at finding it, or you might become stumped and hit a brick wall. The latter applies to me recently but to be honest, I wasn’t aware of it! My eyes have been opened!

Every April, I attend the Edinburgh International Harp Festival, for 27 Aprils now. Each year I either teach, perform or simply attend, in search of inspiration. It doesn’t usually disappoint with a wide array of performers from all over the world and teachers imparting their wisdom in terms of anything and everything you could think of. Each year I come away with a handful of CDs, listen to them on my way home, feel elated with musical creativity and then weeks later fall back into a bad habit of work/life normality. But I’ve never thought about it like this, until now.

There are certain folk who I only see at this festival each year so when we see each other some of the first questions turn to “so what have you been up to?”. This year, that question seemed harder than ever to answer. What have I been up to this year? Renovating my teaching room? Looking after the doggie I told everyone last year I was getting? But then he died and we rescued another doggie who has major anxiety problems despite her also being the cutest cuddle monster ever? Coming to terms with daily grief after losing my Dad? Nope, can’t use that one, that was last year’s conversation. Teaching? Yes. Performing? No. Same old same old? Yeah, that seems the right response rather than “I have no idea”. Nervous laughter later and…… oh, what do I say now? My life seems rather boring compared to their’s…….

But that wasn’t today’s blog inspiration, they were just some thoughts on the week leading to today’s writing. This post is inspired by a friend who read my blog and became inspired by it. Because that’s what inspiration is, isn’t it? Someone feeding you a nugget of wisdom, even just a fleeting thought and woosh….. Your mind goes off at 100mph.

I have struggled with my honesty since being interviewed on the Gaelic radio about my blog. I was called brave. I was called honest. I didn’t disagree with any of it but it struck me that with my honesty, could also come hurt and that prospect scared me. This is why I haven’t written a blog entry since then. The interviewer also asked me about what helps me with my condition. I said my dog, my husband, my family, my faith and then she prompted me, asking me if my music helped. Oops! How on earth had I forgotten about my music? My response was “Of course!” as music is a massive part of my life, but was that the truth? No. Music has not helped me with my condition. Music, as I once knew it, has been missing from my life and I hadn’t even been aware of it. Life had majorly got in the way and that’s an awful realisation.

I once used to perform on the stage at the Harp Festival. I once used to be creative and write my own music. I once used to just sit down at my harp and play, for fun, for joy, for no reason other than it was a part of me and that’s what I did every day. Those days seem so long ago, now that I think about it. Somebody else was catching up with me a few months ago and also asked if I still performed. I shrugged it off and made some excuse about being too busy teaching 5 days a week and renovating a house. Now here’s a nugget of honesty for you – this was not the vision I had of my career when I first decided to be a professional harpist – 16yrs ago. And now the tears come, with the realisation that I’m miles away from my plan. Is it ok to change paths? Is it ok that I hadn’t noticed? Is it ok that I’ve been ok with it, probably because I hadn’t noticed? Well the compassionate side of me dealing with my condition says YES. When do we ever make plans and they work out exactly as we planned them?

So this week I’ve been analysing where things changed. I made a decision in my 3rd year at music college to take on an additional qualification, to enhance my career as a teacher IN ADDITION to being a performer. That then led me to take on a full time secondary teaching role in order to complete that qualification, but a year later I decided that it wasn’t my desired path so I auditioned for a Masters degree. I got in, I accepted my place, but something didn’t feel quite right so I looked into other options. I took on a role in a specialist music school, again to broaden my career development by enhancing my piano skills etc, ended up then teaching full time as an assistant director of music at a prep school, absolutely loved it, broke myself commuting from Somerset to Lewis every holiday and finally followed my heart to my Hebridean Home and my Hebridean Love – The Isle of Lewis, Kevin, Gaelic music, language and culture.

I bought a house in Stornoway in 2014 which was a perfect location for teaching from, but I still never intended to give up performing. But have I given up? It certainly wasn’t a conscious decision. I think, analysing the last few years, that I got caught up in life – getting married, trying for children, renovating a nightmare of a house which is eating up all of my resources and just generally BEING HAPPY! I am relaxed, I have a stress-free job, I love where I live, I have a few friends locally but most of them are away on the mainland so that’s not great, it never will be, but does anyone ever have all of their friends nearby them? I just invite them to come see the amazing place I live! Its so calm and peaceful – the perfect holiday destination, with maybe the exception of the midges in summer!

So, performing. Well, there doesn’t seem to be the opportunities being thrown at me like I had down south, so without being proactive about it, I’ve just let it slide. The pupils come to me in their droves through word of mouth recommendations so that’s easy and takes up most of my time. I love it therefore I am busy as I want to be. I have control. I make enough money to keep my business afloat so that I can concentrate on creating a lovely little business space with whatever I have leftover. Now herein lies the problem!

When I bought the property I had the intention of living and working in it. Then I got engaged and plans changed. I moved into our marital home but kept my property as my work. A domino effect of problems started in July 2015 and every spare penny has gone into sorting out all the big things that needed sorting out – boiler blowing up, roof repairs, lifting the entire ground floor, moving my entire teaching space into my tiny office, re-doing gas pipes, cold/hot water pipes, new radiators, re-wiring, holes in the floor for easy access. Actually, I can’t remember every single thing we’ve done but it would’ve been far easier building a new property from scratch than what we’re doing. Anyway, my vision is finally taking place. One room is getting completed – my teaching room. It is going to be epic. I can visualise it all in my head and I can’t wait for it to be complete and give my students an inspirational room to learn in – a massive improvement from the tiny office upstairs or the make-shift harp room next door with music piled on the floor, boxes everywhere, stuff just simply disorganised and messy. To say that my students have been understanding would be an understatement!! They all deserve medals for putting up with my house & utter chaos!

It was only ever meant to be temporary!!!! 6 months initially…. But it is what it is. Nearly 4yrs later and I might finally be able to move back downstairs to teach again – what an achievement that would be. An incredible milestone.

My Harp teacher at music college once said that our practice space was the most important space in the house. That it must be prioritised. It must be clean, tidy, organised, ergonomical, well lit and inspiring. I took that on board back then. But I haven’t since 2011. Oddly enough, that was when my last album was released! Wow, that’s a realisation. 8yrs ago I descended into chaos by moving into temporary accommodation for jobs and I haven’t made progress in my playing – now I’m seeing the correlation. For 5yrs now I’ve been static but clearly the uninspiring work area has made a massive impact. So, will this change? Well I’m hoping so!

The car seems to be the place where all of my ideas come to me – for writing this blog for example. Today in the long journey home it suddenly dawned on me that it was about time I progressed with my music. I love peaceful music, I’m good at slow, peaceful, emotional music. I should concentrate on that. I am currently sorting out my Dad’s headstone after putting it off for far too long. Somewhere on it we plan to write “Aig fois” which means “At peace”. That should be the name of my project, right? A peaceful sounding solo harp suite/collection of pieces. Maybe Clàrsach? Maybe my Electro-harp? Maybe even my Concert Harp? Hmmmmmm now the juices are flowing. In so many ways, I need to be at peace so this seems to be the perfectly stress-free way to get me back on track. Maybe I need to wait until I have my new room…….. Or maybe starting now would help me on my way to getting my new room? We shall see. I predict that painting and other finishings will take up my time in weeks to come but who knows!