#danny voice. if one more person asks me for a blood sample i am going to walk backwards into the ghost zone and never be seen again

[corsairier]

dc x dp prompt: in which Danny accidentally becomes an alien

So I'm not super caught up on the modern day dp fandom lore, but what i am very familiar with is pre-2016 dp fandom lore. And that lore tends to take a much more sci-fi slant than a lot of the current magic stuff I've been seeing circulating around, so... what if we took that and put it in a batfam crossover?

Picture this: Danny is sixteen, he's told his parents he's a halfa, and despite all his fears, things actually went... well? They apologize for how they've treated Phantom, they reaffirm they still love him as their son, and things are surprisingly okay.

Except... ghosts are still their biggest interest in life, and researching ghosts is their entire passions and careers. And they've got a kid right there who not only is a ghost, but a rare type of half ghost who could give them a completely different set of data than any of their previous research! And he's their kid, so why not just go and ask Danny how he's feeling about helping them out with their research?

And Danny is, well... his friends and Jazz are all super happy for him that Maddie and Jack accepted him, and they think it's sweet at first that they're trying to bond with Danny over this. So he feels a bit pressured to go along with it, even though it feels incredibly invasive to have his parents asking him all these things. But they're his parents, and he does feel grateful for them not trying to vivisect him, so it can't be that bad, right?

But it just escalates.

His parents have never really been great with boundaries, especially when it comes to ghosts, and at some point Danny realizes that there's not really a point where either of them will truly stop. They keep asking him for blood samples, skin samples, hair samples, marrow samples, anything that can help understand him inside and out. They know ectoplasm can bring inanimate things to life or infuse life into the dead, so it quickly becomes Hey Danny, what if we injected human blood into a ghost? And Come watch us infuse ectoplasm into these frozen mice! and Danny, come help us out with this project!

Vlad won't even come in between any of this, not after Danny let slip that he wasn't the only halfa out there. Maddie's affections are a lot less attractive to him when it feels like being a lab rat under her microscope, and the coward seems more than happy to leave Danny to his fate while he goes and lives it up in his mansions. His friends are sympathetic, sure, but they don't really get it beyond usual "parents suck" complaining. it's not like Danny is actually in any danger.

Jazz at least takes it seriously, but she's off at university by then and she can't just drop everything to get into fights with their parents telling them to leave Danny alone. So Danny starts spending a bit more time than he probably should exploring the Ghost Zone and tumbling through portals, just to see where it leads him. It's stress relief, you know. Jazz would approve of him getting out of the house to clear his head.

The fact that some of these portals happen to connect dimensions isn't something he's expecting.

Neither is the fact that dimensions have their own rules, and in order to pass between dimensions, they must undergo changes as needed to fit those rules. Someone with magic cannot exist as is in a dimension without it, and the dead cannot walk in a dimension where the rules of life and death are drawn by different lines.

Danny winds up in Gotham with a body that feels unlike his own, the majority of his powers and his ghost half seemingly beyond his reach. He still thinks he's human (probably), but something about him isn't quite right. He feels odd, where he lands, and something about the air and the weather just doesn't sit right in his bones.

He's hungering for... ectoplasm, maybe? He can't put a finger on it, only that he's starving without it. Danny can't quite figure out how to get his way back—and he's not sure if he really wants to, if it means going back to playing house with his parents.

Then the Bats, from their own perspective, stumble across a medical mystery—one that doesn't want to be solved.

One that's absolutely sick of people trying to research everything about him.

And there's no way a being like him could be from Earth, right?

Batman is convinced he's an alien seeking amnesty on Earth. Tim's got his bets on an experiment escaped from some dark and corrupt lab somewhere. Dick's thinking the kid's a Meta with the kind of powers those with bad intentions would kill to have.

Jason, for what it's worth, really just wants to know how this bandaged and ill kid ended up in one of his safehouses—especially considering it's not accessible from the ground floor.

---

I've been chipping away at a fic for this, but I'm not sure if it'd be something modern dpxdc fans would be interested in? Feel free to use this idea yourselves for anything if it piques your interest LOL, just credit me in the AN if you post it to AO3. I just think it's really funny to have Danny having incredibly boring "i feel i can't enforce boundaries with my parents" problems and then the Batfam seeing what it all looks like from an outsider's POV and coming to some very severe conclusions based on what they can pick up on because it's really not a good look.

Danny voice. No my parents are fine except for all the experimenting on me. Jason voice. THE WHAT.

[samgirl98]

Here be Crack

Adopted?!

Dani bit into a chili hotdog she had bought while staring at the city from the highest building she could find. The sun had set a few hours ago, but the cold didn’t bother her.

The perks of being half-dead.

She finished the last bit of her hotdog when she felt more than heard a whoosh. She turned around to find the legendary Batman standing beside her.

Even with the white-out eyes, she could feel his eyes on her.

“Can I help you,” she asked while inching further away from him.

“Can I get a DNA test,” he asked back. That stopped Dani in her tracks.

What?

“What?”

“Can I get a DNA test,” he repeated.

“Okay, wow, so I didn’t imagine that. Why?”

“You look like m—someone I know. I just want to confirm if you are or are not related to that person.”

“So, what, I look like you, and you want a DNA test? Do you go up to every child that has black hair and blue eyes and ask for one?”

“No,” he answered without elaborating or denying that he was talking about himself.

Fuck it; it’s not as if Dani had anything else to do.

“LOL, sure,” she said, “but you’re gonna be really confused.”

Dani allowed Batman to cheek-swab her and then watched as he put her DNA sample into a small computer he was carrying in his gloves of all places. She did take the juice box and lollipop he gave her. Dani never turned down free food.

It helped that human poison didn’t affect her.

Five minutes later, Dani took out her phone.

“Hello,” a groggy voice asked.

“Yo, Danny, are you adopted?”

“What the fuck? No.”

“Then why is Batman saying he’s my dad?”

“Who are you talking to,” Batman asked as he finished talking into his headpiece.

“The guy I’m cloned from,” she answered.

“Wait, what,” Batman asked, furious.

“What do you mean Batman is saying he’s your father? Jack Fenton is my dad!”

“Yeah, I think you need to talk to your parents, big guy.”

Dani heard footsteps before Danny yelled, “Mom, dad, am I adopted?!”

“What, of course not,” a woman’s voice said.

“Yeah, Dann-o, you are 100% a Fenton, even if you don’t carry my blood.”

“Dad, what do you mean I don’t carry your blood, and why was I never told about this? Why is Batman saying that he’s my father?”

“Batman, that’s strange,” Mr. Fenton bellowed out, “We had that threesome with Bruce Wayne.”

“Oh, my Ancients,” Dani yelled out, “Batman is Bruce Wayne, the himbo?”

Batman, aka Bruce Wayne, made a confused noise while his other children laughed into the comms.

“Oh, eww, gross, I didn’t need to know that,” Danny yelled.

“Well, we were a bit tipsy, and he was interested in our technology,” Maddie said. Batman took the phone from Dani’s hands.

“Who is this,” he growled.

“Shut the hell up, fruit loop. I just found out my parents fucked around with a billionaire furry who beats up criminals.”

“No, we slept with Bruce Wayne,” Bruce recognized that loud bellow. Jack Fenton.

“Ancients, stop saying that!”

The boy hung up the phone, and Bruce was left with a little girl up on Wayne Enterprise. He had no idea what to do.

“So, you have any food?”

Will not expand on this but if you guys want to let me know and tag me

@epilepticnerd @thatonegaybitch68 @awkwardmaiden @s-ourbuns @lovelypitasworld @akikkobara @skulld3mort-1fan @joseph557 @fisticuffsatapplebees @seraphinedemort @multi-fandom13 @auralykos @the-legal-shipper @gluck-gluck-hyuck @icepopstar5105us @starlightcat04

Fic idea

Ellie in Gotham, vibing it up, when this guy (Batman) comes out of nowhere and asks her to do a DNA test.

Ellie: “lol, sure, but your gonna be real confused.”

Ellie finding out she shares DNA with this guy and pauses before whipping out her phone and calling Danny.

Ellie: “Yo Danny? Are you adopted?”

Danny: “What no???”

Ellie: “Then why is Batman saying he’s my dad???”

Danny: “What?”

Batman: “who’s that?”

Ellie: “the guy I’m cloned from.”

Batman: “?????”

[thesinglesjukebox]

FULL TAC FT. LIL MARIKO - WHERE'S MY JUUL??

[6.11]

Do we choose rule, or do we choose suck?

Alex Clifton: Juuls. Juuls. Juuls. Oh my god, Juuls. [7]

Katie Gill: It's a little bit telling how all the comments on the YouTube video are comparing this song to other meme songs and not talking about the merits of the song itself. Still, there will always be a place in the world for meme songs that are serviceable memes but less than serviceable songs that teenagers can obnoxiously quote on the bus. "Where's My Juul" fits that niche perfectly. I expect a fleet of TikToks featuring people lip-syncing to this and will be very disappointed when this inevitably doesn't happen because I am out of touch with the youth. [6]

Kalani Leblanc: I can see there's already an abundance of blurbs submitted for this song, and the number will have risen by the time I finish this. After thinking so hard about how to go about being the fifteenth person to say "It sounds like "Shoes"," I'm realizing it's not really "Shoes" anyway. While they're both jokes that bear a resemblance in the thrash of a breakdown, "Where's My Juul??" is also listenable. The comparison is getting tired because it's like did anyone listen to "Shoes"? As a song? In earnest??? While this is not an entirely impressive piece, no concerto or FKA Twigs production, it's enough. Since 2006, we've been making everything into jokes, so it makes perfect sense. Nicotine-induced freakouts would've been the subject of an after school special ten years ago, but now they're joke material for hypebeasts and others on Twitter. Lil Mariko makes an impressive case while trying to find her Juul; I can't find anything this song did wrong, sorry. [8]

Will Adams: The mid-song 0-to-11 ramp is what takes this past the mean-spiritedness of "#Selfie" and the meme-spiritedness of "Phone" into effortless "Shoes"/"Let Me Borrow That Top" absurdity. The Juul is a placeholder; sub in any other monosyllabic cultural artifact, and Lil Mariko's rage against Full Tac's electroclash-y beat would cut through just as effectively. "Sorry, guys!" she says at the end, except there's nothing to apologize for. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I wrote 20 pages about Juul culture in 2018 so I should in theory be the exact target audience for this. Yet "Where's My Juul??" doesn't really click for me. It's charming and funny in parts (Lil Mariko's spoken verses, which transmit nervy anxiety and barely restrained fury effectively) but the hook, which takes up most of the very long minute-forty-five, is comedy via brute force principles: repeat a phrase enough and it will transfigure into a joke. [5]

Brad Shoup: About as funny as the related TikTok meme, though not as menacing, surprisingly. I wish so badly that Full Tac had gone full hardcore -- or even brostep! -- but am glad that Lil Mariko's Danny Brownian ad-libs and sudden reversals grind "#SELFIE" into the dirt. [7]

Oliver Maier: I need not catalogue the myriad ways in which this is transparently designed to blast off on TikTok -- you would probably know better than me -- but that cynicism detracts from "Where's My Juul??" for me. There's none of the spontaneity or sense of genuine fun that animates certain other genre-agnostic, threat-spewing, extremely online weirdo duos, more savvy than it is genuinely silly. It's not badly executed, but I felt like I got the picture before even hitting play. [4]

Will Rivitz: I get this is supposed to be more meme than song, but I so wish it had leaned into the latter for more than half its runtime. The "FUCK!!!" at the beginning of its second chorus is worth at least a [7] on its own, and its redlining nu-metal production is such a tight fusion of XXXTENTACION's sonic fingerprint and simplified TikTok trap that I'm surprised the "oh my God" ad-libs aren't followed by a "Ronny." As it stands, "Where's My Juul??" and its just-a-little-too-long interludes that grate after listen number four or so functions as a sort of "Thrift Shop" for the current day, a track defined by its novelty that we as an Internet music-Twitter hivemind all agree was genuinely good about five years after it's exited the public consciousness. It deserves more. [8]

Ian Mathers: Both less musically compelling and with less of a point than "Can I Get a Box?". [5]

Katherine St Asaph: It's kind of amazing how it took seven years for Rebecca Martinson to release her debut. [1]

Nortey Dowuona: Lil Mariko is actually kinda weird in the lol so random funny way that people think that [insert overrated white comic who had a Comedy Central show] is and has a really great metal screaming voice. I don't know who made this dull approximation of Kenny Beats and Pi'erre Bourne, nor do I care. Lil Mariko will hopefully get a recurring cameo role on Nora From Queens and get her own show from that. [5]

Mo Kim: The best joke here is the escalation of nonchalance (hey, where's my Juul?) into something desperate, and therefore dangerous: it hits like the drop in a rollercoaster when Lil Mariko finally breaks out the deep-throated metal screams, but the moment wouldn't have half the thrill without the masterful way she gradually ups the heat on the song's first chorus before that. Both of her spoken monologues, where she merges Valley Girl affect with murderous menace, only sweeten the deal. [8]

Ryo Miyauchi: "Where's My Juul??" gets spiked with an infectious dose of adrenaline when it suddenly turns a lot more aggro than you'd expect from a meme-y cross-section of Rico Nasty's mosh-pop and PC Music's ironic bubblegum. The demented beat stings with a pungent metallic sourness, and while her Valley Girl accent scans as an obvious put-on, Lil Mariko's blood-curdling scream is legitimately hair-raising. The song rapidly combusts, ensuring the joke doesn't overstay its welcome. [7]

Joshua Lu: Yes, hearing the unassuming Lil Mariko scream and snarl over a missing Juul is intrinsically funny, especially accompanied by a music video that knows exactly how to push the limits of its concept. But the real strength of "Where's My Juul??" lies in its sheer relatability. The title could be anything -- where's my wallet, my phone, my eraser -- because anyone who has ever misplaced anything can relate to the escalating panic and rage in not only the cataclysmic vocals, but also Full Tac's discordant production. Also crucial to the song is its sense of plot, as it steadily progresses from confusion to blame to outright violence. The ending, though predictable (Lizzo used the exact same twist not that long ago), is a necessary denouement, as it provides the moment where everyone involved can look back on the last minute and a half of chaos and laugh. [8]

Iain Mew: As a song structure trick, I love the fake-out final verse, those ones that seem like something slowly developing before the artist brutally cuts it off for the chorus or instrumental to come back stronger than ever; the "Don't Speak" and "Your Best American Girl" kind of thing. The key moment of "Where's My Juul??" comes in taking that same trick to a ludicrous, brilliant extreme. It has a drawn-out, jittery verse, a cartoon scowl of a chorus, and then one question into verse two it veers straight into swearing, screaming and fucking everything up. That's perfect enough that it would ideally be even shorter than it ends up. [7]

Kylo Nocom: Full Tac and Lil Mariko do in less than two minutes what took Justice five. The gimmick is the least fun part, and judging by my sample size of BigKlit's "Liar" and Full Tac's very own "CHOP" the producers behind this might not even be as funny as this video would imply. But I've long settled with music that's good on the merits of just being fun; when the production here is layered with discordant guitar sampling, analog drum kits, and distant screams of "piss!" and "fuck," I'm willing to buy into the ugliness. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Full Tac returns with another take on "Liar," succeeding because the goofy conceit here finds an appropriately goofy (that is, unexpected) vocal performance. Part of the appeal is how "Where's My Juul??" could sit comfortably alongside songs from Rico Nasty and Rina Sawayama, but has the appeal of shoddy viral videos from yesteryear. It's that "Kombucha Girl"-type reaction it's striving to elicit, and it accomplishes that as soon as the screaming starts. The best detail, though, is the most subtle: the moment Lil Mariko stops herself from saying "who" and politely asks "have you seen it?" [7]

Michael Hong: Have you ever been dragged to a party only for your only friend to disappear, leaving you to mingle with a group of people you don't know? And one person makes a comment so absurd that you just giggle along with the rest of the group even though you're not really sure if they're layering their statement with even a hint of irony or if there's something much more unsettling lurking underneath? But the jokes are getting more and more uncomfortable and suddenly fewer people are laughing along, instead furtively glancing across each other with an exasperated look as if to say "is this person for real?" And instead of backing away, that person instead starts doubling down, getting more and more aggressive, screaming across the room for what feels like hours and surely people must be ready to head out. Instead, when you finally catch a moment to glance down at your phone, you find that only two minutes have elapsed since you arrived and you realize that not even a quarter of the time has passed before your ride will come and you can leave this godforsaken party. You have absolutely no choice but to continue standing in the group in discomfort, waiting for this moment that feels like an eternity to finally finish, with the only background noise being the stereos blaring what sounds like someone's first attempt at using GarageBand. [0]

Crystal Leww: While I was digging through "likes" on SoundCloud, I noticed that a friend of mine had liked "Baby Let Me Know" by Full Tac, which sounds like the synth heavy dreamy pop that was popular at the beginning of last decade. I did not stick around for "Where's My Juul??" so imagine my surprise today when I turned this on and it's umm, screaming. A consistent genre as an essential part of an up-and-coming artist's brand is less essential than ever, especially in an age where (waves hands) dance music has eaten itself alive in its swirling storm of troll energy. Chaos in and of itself is a brand -- from 100 gecs to Alice Longyu Gao's dueling sister tracks "Rich Bitch Juice"/"Dumb Bitch Juice" to any DJ Bus Replacement Service set, it has fully infiltrated dance music. How this goes from sweetly threatening to full-on psychotic and back to cutely apologetic is chaotic so yes, I think Full Tac could make some noise (both in creating a fanbase and also like literally) with this. [8]

[Read and comment on The Singles Jukebox]

[dannycaing]

PRECIPITATED HORRORS

PRECIPITATED HORRORS by Danny Caing Date Written: May 6, 2019

CHAPTER 1   BODY PARTS

Ignaz Klug Strabe, Keilberg,  Germany August 3, 2008, Friday 8:32 PM

It was dark in the room.  Emma was lying on the floor while she heard children's voices crying.  The ventilation had a dead smell. In the next room, a boy was screaming. There was the sound of a mechanical saw and an ax cutting on the woods,  then a hand saw.  When Emma's eyes adjusted the brightness of the room,  there were five more girls of her age sitting beside the walls.  She realized soon that the floor stink with urine and bowels,  she started vomiting.  When she stood up her head ached so she crawls towards the other girls.

EMMA (whispering):  Where am I?

LUISA (low voice):  I saw many rooms in the hallway when they took a medical exam on me this afternoon.

EMMA:  Who are they?

LUISA:  They look like doctors and nurses.

EMMA:  So we are in the hospital.  What are they going to do to us? How long have you been here?

LUISA:  Three days and they only give us milk and bread a day.  They took Emilia,  Klara, and Sofie just before they sent you here in this room.

EMMA:  Where are they now?  What happened to them?

LUISA:  Maybe in the other rooms.  I don't have an idea.

Emma remembered that there was a birthday party celebration in their 6th Grade schoolroom.  She was with Hannah,  her classmate when they were both going to the comfort room.  They must have taken something that made their stomach ache. She lost consciousness while she was sitting on the water closet and suddenly collapsed. Later when she woke up,  she was lying on the floor in this room.

The door opened. A masculine bisexual man "Macho man" came in and grabbed the arms of Emma.  The other girls covered their heads between their knees and started screaming.

MACHO MAN:  Come here you little girl,  let's see what you got for them.  Don't be unruly so I won't hurt you.  Do we understand each other?

Emma walked a bit faster to catch up on the giant steps with Macho Man along the hallway.  Upon entering the white room, she saw a doctor and two nurses. The nurses took her a bath,  brushed her teeth, and combed her hair,  and put on her an item of white clothing. In the medical room,  they took some blood,  urine, stool, and saliva samples.  Later they took an x-ray on her,  then eye examination.

DOCTOR (as he smiles at Emma):  We are lucky tonight.  We have a perfectly healthy kid with a good match.

EMMA:  Can I go home now,  Doctor?  I want to see my Mommy and Daddy.

DOCTOR:  Yes,  of course,  dear.  You will see your Mommy and Daddy, soon.

He asked Emma to lay on the operating table and the nurses assisted her.  Emma noticed the Doctor was holding a syringe.

EMMA:  What is that?

DOCTOR:  You're going to sleep for a while. Only for a little while, my dear.  Then your Mommy and Daddy will be there when you wake up.

EMMA (sleepy eyes):  Please, I want to go home.

DOCTOR:  You will be home, dear.  I promised.

Then they started opening the body of Emma.   They removed her heart, liver,  lungs, kidney, gallbladder, spleen, coronary artery, eyeballs, stomach and intestines, hand and forearm, shoulder, and skull with teeth.  Peel off her scalp, skin and drained her blood.  Later,  another group take over the operating table removing her flesh,  weighed them and put them on the plastic bags.  Macho Man brought Emma's remains to the incinerator.  Emma was worth $600,000 USD.

CHAPTER 2   UNEXPECTED ACCIDENTS

Rio de Janiero, Brazil May 21, 2017 Sunday 8:32 PM

It was all over on the TV news channels at the restaurant one hot summer afternoon that all the 83 passengers including the driver died when the bus lost its brakes and plunged into a deep ravine in a southern mountain town, one of the country's deadliest road accidents in years. However, an autopsy at the local morgues revealed that human body parts had been cannibalized mostly from the 81 dead students who were on their campus field trip. The local authorities suggested that this was not just an unexpected accident but a premeditated murder of the young passengers.

Here's the full list of body parts and their cost:

Pair of Eyeballs: $1,525 Scalp: $607 Skull with Teeth: $1,200 Shoulder: $500 Coronary Artery: $1,525 Heart: $119,000 Liver: $157,000 Hand and Forearm: $385 Pint of Blood: $337 Spleen: $508 Stomach: $508 Small Intestine: $2,519 Kidney: $262,000 Gallbladder: $1,219 Skin: $10 per square inch

How many boys and girls are abducted or reported missing? The body parts of these kids were sold.

How many doctors are victimizing healthy patients for selling their body parts?

How many young soldiers, athletes, students eventually ended up dead in an unusual accident when in fact behind all these they had already been monitored by an unknown organization for body parts?

How many secret laboratories of human-clone for body parts?

Modern Vampires:  These are the elite secret society that eats fresh young human flesh to prolong their life.

CHAPTER 3  MISSING CHILDREN'S STATISTICS

The lack of a common definition of “missing child,” and a common response to the issue, results in few reliable statistics on the scope of the problem around the world.

Even with this challenge, we know that:

In Australia, an estimated 20,000 children are reported missing every year. Australian Federal Police, National Coordination Centre.

In Canada, an estimated 45,288 children are reported missing each year. Government of Canada, Canada’s Missing – 2015 Fast Fact Sheet.

In Germany, an estimated 100,000 children are reported missing each year. Initiative Vermisste Kinder.

In India, an estimated 96,000 children go missing each year. Bachpan Bachao Andolan, Missing Children of India.

In Jamaica, an estimated 1,984 children were reported missing in 2015. Jamaica’s Office of Children’s Registry

In Russia, an estimated 45,000 children were reported missing in 2015. Interview with Pavel Astakhov MIA “Russia Today”, Apr. 4, 2016.

In Spain, an estimated 20,000 children are reported missing every year. Spain Joins EU Hotline for Missing Children, Sep. 22, 2010.

In the United Kingdom, an estimated 112,853 children are reported missing every year. National Crime Agency, UK Missing Persons Bureau.

In the United States, an estimated 460,000 children are reported missing every year. Federal Bureau of Investigation, NCIC.

We firmly believe that one missing child is one too many, and we are committed to improving the global understanding of and response to missing and abducted children.

Music Background "Precipitated Horrors" by Danny Caing https://soundcloud.com/ebullient-me-album/precipitated-horrors-by-danny-caing

All Rights Reserved Wonderful Stories Limited Copyrighted @ 2019

[adriennescomingbacktolife]

(I)

“So what do you do?” 

The bartender kept trying. After all, Adrienne Levi had been nursing the same glass of Jameson’s he had poured her an hour ago. His question didn’t prompt a response immediately. She was lost in what led her to break the routine in the first place. Maybe this was celebratory. After all, she had just FedEx’d her signed contract to a small independent company in Maryland. It was a culmination of thirteen months of hard work and intense training.  On the other hand, her cat died yesterday so maybe this was in remembrance to Jimmy - a former stray that had just showed up at her front door like a day after … well, she wasn’t really sure.

Her face was illuminated in the low lighting of the bar by her iPhone. She stared intently at a text conversation that hadn’t been replied to since last summer.

u want anything?

She looked up finally. He was attractive, sure. Blonde hair neatly combed over. Blue piercing eyes. Nice smile. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. His Rumba Island Bar & Grill polo complimented his broad shoulders …

Adrienne looked back down. It was checked Read. 

“Kind of hard to explain, Charles.”

After all, it was on his shiny gold name tag.

“Charlie works.”

“Does it?” 

Charlie laughed nervously as he served another customer a few stools down from her. Meanwhile, Adrienne considered the answer.  What does she do? For the past decade, she’d been a mannequin modeling something picked out for her to wear. Usually a shiny vibrant number that rode up her thighs every time she climbed up into that ring to open the ropes. She had been a diversion. The reason why things went well or especially when they didn’t. 

But that had dried up. 

Adrienne brushed a lock of her dark hair from her face. She finally took a second sip, it went down smooth. And there Charlie was, still expecting an answer. So - she did. 

“I call people who don’t pay their bills.”

Then Charlie got real brave. 

“Those bruises on your arm from that?”

That would be a funny story. Easier to explain than it being the result of steel cords cutting in her flesh as she willingly ran into them for momentum. Her Led Zeppelin t-shirt, the one for a concert she was never at because she wasn’t even alive, covered up the matching ones on her upper back.

“What do you think?”

He shrugged his shoulders. There were plenty of other people he could dote on. She could settle up with the coins in her wallet and be on her way.  She was morbidly curious however.

“You by yourself?”

There we go. She stifled a chuckle as the third sip wasn’t a sip at all. She emptied the glass and clinked it down on the bar. He was quick with the bottle but Adrienne’s hand over the glass was quicker.

“On me.”

“I’m good.”

“Fair enough. You waiting for someone?”

This close Levi could smell the contents of this very bottle on his breath. 

“Nah, Danny’s overseas.”

She lifted up from the stool to retrieve her wallet from the back pocket of her jeans. The bartender, he really was easy on the eyes if one didn’t think about the type of person he seemed to be. Small sample size, sure. But that’s all it took for Daniel Levi. Danny was…

She bit her tongue.

Danny always has a way with words and Adrienne believed him. Always at the cusp of greatness. Just one more hurdle. Sometimes he got in his own way but she’d never say that outloud. It was always something else. It was the management here in Clearwater.  Out west, it was the nagging injuries, she supposed. But in Japan? The sky’s the limit. Magnificent Danny Levi…

“Hey, that’s alright. My shift is over in twenty, how about we grab dinner?”

“Charlie.”

She palmed a fiver on the counter, her gold wedding band clear and present. Adrienne cast a glance over to the platinum blonde trying to balance a shot glass between her ginormous breasts.

“She’s more your speed.”

Adrienne left, popping in a pair of earbuds as she walked. His playlist came on immediately. After some of Pink Floyd’s usual ambience, Gilmour asked almost defiantly, “Where were you when I was burned and broken…”

She was a lightweight these days so after two ounces, she felt a little levity in this whole situation. A few more and Charlie and his whiskey dick could have made her forget about all of this for a little while. After all, fair's fair. However, the Levi apartment was only a few blocks away and the night air was cool against her skin. As Adrienne opened the front door, she nudged the bag of cat food just inside. She should probably cancel that subscription. She tossed the keys onto a table with an answering machine. One new message. 

“Hey Ade, it’s your mother. Look, I don’t know how to say this but I’m gonna try again. Daniel. Danny, he’s--”

She deleted the message. Adrienne smiled flippantly. Everytime her mother talked like this, it was like being fifteen again. And Danny was seventeen but he was the only boy that got her. No, mommy, I love him, he’s perfect. But mommy and daddy didn’t like Danny. 

The lights turned on automatically as she stepped into the living room. She flopped on the patch work couch and kicked her feet up on the coffee table, the sneakers sailing off her feet like a pair of awkward birds before landing on the carpet. She flipped through her social media feed. And while she tried to focus on her new employment status in Carnage Wrestling, a small part of her wished she listened.

For her entire adult life, Adrienne had stood in Danny’s shadow. But it was the twilight of his career - or maybe he’d come to the terms that he never reached the summit in the first place. And now Adrienne had a chance to show that she was more than what others assumed. What Danny assumed. 

You don’t need that, he’d say. Why fix what isn’t broken? 

Her fists clenched at that notion. The paydays had dried up. Six days a week, Adrienne was harassing folks about debts that had been purchased for pennies on the dollar with the intent to collect.  In the bouts of being screamed at, some would like her supposedly sultry voice and … whatever. She had wiped away a joint savings account in the hopes of staking claim to just who she was. One of Danny’s friends said he’d train her but three grand didn’t amount to much more than the basics. Or how to work the stick. He emphasized those words as if she didn’t know what he meant. 

And yet, CW reached out. Next month, she had her first opportunity to step out in front of a paying audience against an opponent that wasn’t sparring with her. Starburst, or Regina Del Gato, was intriguing to say the least. A multi-disciplined martial artist with uncanny aerial abilities. And yet, it hadn’t translated into much success. 

Loser.

Adrienne scoffed. Danny had a terrible habit of deriding his competition. He never had anything positive to say about them so when he inevitably lost, he was absolutely enraged. She tried as much as she could with those soft suggestions. She sat back and closed her eyes.

And there they were. She’d get a private dressing room usually but Danny and Adrienne Levi were a package deal.

She knelt beside him, threading pink laces through the eyelets of his white boots.

“Who am I facing?”

“You aren’t facing anyone.”

He ignored that, snatching a match card from his bag.

“Look at the tits on this one, A. She must have terrible back problems.”

“Don’t take her lightly.”

“Gonna motorboat her.”

Danny’s skin was glistening with baby oil. It was for the lighting he claimed but he always thought it was clever to be slippery. Eventually, though, he was caught. She didn’t care. These moments of confidence were peaceful, though. And she’d be remiss if she didn’t find his toothy grin to be attractive as he ran people down to an audience of one. Not only that, when you thought of a professional wrestler, Danny Levi was typecast into the role. He looked the part. Strong frame, musculature fitting of a Greek god, and that damn mustache. She didn’t care that it belonged to a bygone era. 

“No, really, it’s my turn.”

He laughed, causing her to miss the last hole. 

“Not tonight. This could be it. This could be my big chance and I need you in my corner.”

That spotlight burned on him the brightest, glimmering off another relic of the past - a gaudy white and pink sequined robe. He’d spin around, reveling in whatever reaction he garnered and then … and only then, she would join him. With arms linked, they sauntered down to the ring. Up the steps, she stood on the apron as he reprised his braggadocious posing. 

“Come on, open the ropes for me already.”

Her eyes shot open, she had dozed off.

“...no.” 

That robe was hanging in the corner of the room, surrounded by other artifacts of his storied career. Some Orlando based championship he won in his rookie year. And lots of pictures of him. Some had her in them, too. She looked like a clown with smokey eyes and blood red lipstick. But anyway, that robe, he’d left it behind. Danny claimed that he could reinvent himself. That these Japanese crowds appreciate guys like him. Guys that put the work in. 

That was a stretch, she admitted. Danny took shortcuts and sometimes they worked but most times, they amounted to little more than inspiring whoever he was fighting. 

That’s a promise she made to herself. She wouldn’t overlook anyone. Who was Adrienne to do that anyway? There was no doubt that Regina was more than ready to get her first victory in CW. A brief glimpse into what she’s said and what she’s done would reveal the indiscretions of youth. There was a fine line between arrogance and confidence. Del Gato made bold proclamations. Her first of many great achievements was to not be the one pinned. Followed up by a middle of the pack elimination. Moral victories, Danny called them. Didn’t fail, but didn’t get it done either.

Adrienne suddenly felt overwhelmed. Up until now, Regina stood across long time veterans and this Starburst stood her ground. First ever professional match, that must feel like chum in the water for this young competitor. 

Danny loved those matchups. It was always some rube that hadn’t seen through his tricks. He would grin and say that he was making a statement. The mark would have a long night and he’d celebrate by drinking a little too much and passing out in the hotel room. What always irked her is that he was always so complimentary to their faces. We’re going to put on a show, he’d claim. And that smile, she knew that smile. It never reached his eyes. There was one real smile he had and she saw it rarely. Maybe when she was reciting the wedding vows that he curated. 

She was wandering around the point and that was what? It can’t be that. Just think of it as that boundless youthful exuberance. Or maybe it was insincerity.

Scrolling through Regina’s wall, she dismissed that. Adrienne Levi was not raised to think the worst of people. Twitter minimized and she started to record. The angle and lighting was unflattering and honestly, she didn’t know what to say. The camera framed her face as she looked down into the lens. 

“So, hello, I guess.”

Her free hand waved at the camera.

“I’m Adrienne. First and foremost, I want to thank Carnage Wrestling for this monumental opportunity.”

Levi sighed, that same hand involuntarily twirling a lock of her thick dark hair. There was an extended silence as she carefully considered her words.

“So I’ve … been in this business since I was nineteen but never once as the performer. So thirteen years, right? Anyway, it’s a tremendous honor for me to be facing such a vibrant and dedicated talent as Starburst in my very first match.”

Another prolonged silence.

“What else?”

At first there was a positive lilt to her tone but her next words were solemn and deliberate.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time. And I don’t know what my future holds. I don’t know if I have many great achievements in store for me.”

She shook her head. Adrienne knew that sort of sentiment was self-defeating but she didn’t want to start building this on a lie.

“I’m ready. Yeah, I’m ready to defy that destiny preordained to me so long ago. So Regina, I can’t promise much more than my best. Just what that is?”

Shrugging her shoulders, the seemingly lonely woman pondered that.

“You know, I admire your outlook. You could have easily let a few mishaps define you. But you didn’t…”

Adrienne trailed off, but reaffirmed her stance.

“You didn’t. I wish … I could say the same. But think of it like this: this is sort of a fresh start for you. So if you don’t mind, a free bit of advice. Something I’ve had to level with myself. Heard it somewhere in the industry. Sometimes, you just need to step back and reevaluate your expectations.”

She clicked off the recording. For a moment, she considered deleting the video.

What the hell? Where’s the bravado? Where’s the big takedown?

Adrienne wanted to hear his voice, longed to even. She considered pressing that green button when she remembered that he never had his phone on him on show days anyway. The thirteen hour difference was havoc on their marriage and it felt like he was in a different realm altogether. 

Summoned all of the courage she could muster, she uploaded the promo piece for the denizens of Carnage Wrestling.

Too late to stop now.