MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 24 / 31 * OUT IN THE DESERT 」
January—March 1943
From the moment he’d been visited at the university by Oppenheimer with Groves in tow, the latter a looming, intimidating presence towering over him in his uniform compared to the amicable and even friendly disposition of Oppenheimer, he’d felt the cold bite of the Sword of Damocles pressed against his neck, digging deeper and deeper with each day he’d been left in purgatory, waiting.
He feared he’d lose his head before ever hearing the official outcome of his new employment.
When one of his colleagues had approached him about a week and a half after their departure, informing him that he’d received a call from the FBI asking some questions about him, Emmett’s heart stopped then and there and he was absolutely positive he’d seen the moment his head was severed from his neck, rolling down the hallway.
Twenty long seconds later, when his senses had returned to him, he learned that the sensation was just dizziness and he was still firmly intact.
Three weeks later, the hell had ended. To say his official acceptance onto the project was a weight off his shoulders would be an understatement. Emmett breathed a long sigh of relief, nearly giddy with the excitement that he’d come through the process relatively unscathed; his frayed nerves were the only real casualty of his stint in purgatory.
Why the outcome should have been anything other than this, he couldn’t say, but that didn’t stop his mind, already having latched onto the mystery and thrilling scientific intrigue that Oppenheimer had offered, from conjuring up the what-if possibilities while unseen hands manipulated the course of his life. He’d never been in legal trouble, no criminal record, his father was an incredibly prominent and well-respected, if feared and disliked, member of the community, and his academic achievements had been exceptional.
But now it was official and the part that should have been the most daunting brought him the most joy. Two months was more than enough time to wrap up his affairs in California nicely.
His courses at the university would be discontinued and his students would be disseminated out into the other professors’ courses. The small home he’d been provided here would go back to the university and whatever he deemed unimportant to take with him to New Mexico would be discarded. The head of the department wished him well, and after a brief exchange steeped in rumour and hearsay, he’d left, returning home to pack up the last of his things.
How fascinating that an entire life could be stuffed in a couple travel bags.
—
When Emmett returns to Hill Valley, tugging the last twenty-three years of his life up the pathway to the mansion he hadn’t seen in almost five years, it is his mother’s joyful cries that greet him, her hands that all but pull him through the door, and her voice that fills the living room as she sits down, harmonising with the song of time played by his favourite Grandfather Clock.
Emmett, the doctor. Emmett, the scientist. Emmett, her son, doing his part for his country, whatever that meant, because it was secret, secret, secret—all so very secret all he could say was “I can’t talk about it but I have to travel to get there”—and while she looked ten years younger, radiant with motherly pride, his father scoffed and harrumphed, making his opinion known in no uncertain terms.
You would’ve done better for the war as a soldier, not some damned-fool scientist.
‘But at least maybe you’ll have a chance to be useful. Do something good.’
This time, his father’s barbs do not sting. They strike at him from all angles, jabbing at his skin but never piercing, and he lets them fall to the ground at his feet, unwilling to have this argument again, as they did for so many long nights in his youth. With the prospect of unforetold scientific progress right there at his fingertips, he could find it in himself to forgive his father without a fight. He didn’t understand. He wouldn’t let him spoil this.
Science—science was the future. And they would see.
His departure comes as quick as his arrival, his mother asking when he thinks he’ll be back in California.
“Soon,” he says, unable to give her any definite number, pulling at the hope this project is supposed to bring. “When we’ve won the war.”
Alone, he arranges to have himself and his entire life brought to San Francisco, where he’ll meet the train that carries him to the future.
—
San Francisco to Santa Fe.
Emmett spends most of his time in comfortable silence, watching the touches of humanity upon the land slowly and slowly being stripped away. Pavement gives way to dirt and grass and unsullied earth and the towering buildings of the cities sprout leaves and stretch up to the heavens, basking in the afternoon sunlight.
He remembers the itinerary—cryptic instructions written on a packet of papers shoved into his hands and the explicit instructions to allow nobody else to see the contents of this folder. Emmett doesn’t think he could forget it if he tries, burning a hole in the inner pocket of his overcoat, searing his chest even through his clothes.
More often than not, he tries to imagine the stage that will hold what is supposed to be the greatest scientific advancements of the last three centuries—what we’ll be doing here will be the culmination of the last three centuries of physics. Don’t you want to be a part of that?—I want to take on this challenge—only to imagine something even more fantastical than its predecessor every time he tries.
A fully functioning laboratory and city do not just spring up overnight in the middle of the desert, but Oppenheimer had said it would be ready in time, and Emmett found himself almost immediately assured by that, half-convinced that Nature itself would bend to that man’s charm.
Perhaps, Emmett thinks, a flutter in his stomach equal parts dread and excitement, it just might.
What else would require some of the greatest scientific minds to gather in one remote location under the strictest security imaginable?
The possibilities lull him into a dream-filled sleep.
—
They’re waiting for him there, just as they said. Two large uniformed escorts that Emmett easily has several inches on tower over him, usher him into an ordinary old car—grey, unassuming, rather mundane, actually, but when discretion is key—and expertly fit an entire life into the boot.
As if they’ve done this before.
Clement and Rosario, Lieutenant-Commander and Lieutenant, respectively, as he’s come to learn from the intermittent conversation, were the ones assigned to bring him to the site, get him through security, and make sure everything went off without a hitch.
Emmett watches, his face all but pressed against the window in the back as the landscape overrides the thoughts about this project that have been playing on a loop since he first alighted the train back in California. The desert is beautiful, nothing like the views in the city, and maybe he views the wide open area through the tinted lenses of lingering boyish romanticism for such an environment, but there is a rough, rugged beauty to it all in reality that Emmett is pleased to know for himself is not just a result of the films.
He must have said that out loud, because the younger of the two—or the one Emmett assumes is younger, given the softness still present on his face that looks out of place with the gun strapped to his hip—Rosario, says, “Yeah, isn’t it? Beautiful place out here. Shame we went and ruined it.” Before Emmett can ask what that means, he just says, “You’ll see.”
He does see, almost immediately.
This complex—‘Welcome home, Doc,’ Clement jokes in that gruff voice of his—looks more like a prison dropped in the most remote location they could think of, where they’ll work and torture them until they get what they want or die trying. That fence must be ten feet high, topped with barbed wire, and Emmett wonders how many scientists they know of that are athletic enough to even attempt scaling a wall like that.
They preferred to scale theoretical hurdles, not physical.
The cold feeling of dread slithers up his spine. He dismisses it the moment they reach the security checkpoint, telling himself he’s being foolish—the military is involved; everything with them is cloak-and-dagger.
Processing takes an eternity, and Emmett feels a rush of dizziness he can’t quite explain when a thick set of papers are pressed into his hand, followed by a white identification badge that has immortalised his awkwardness in a frozen snapshot of time.
“Housing information’s on the first page. You’ll get used to the layout. Keep that badge with you at all times, Doctor Brown.”
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I had a thought in October about what if, in the TUE episode, Danny returning to his time was more complicated than just finding Vlad.
I made a gif out of a little sketch story thing I've made based on that thought (it's part one, out of... two? three? I haven't finished it yet so I'm not sure. But I thought this was a good place to stop for the gif.)
The story starts during the episode, right after the older Vlad removes the fused time medallion. The basic thought is that Danny doesn't make it to Vlad soon enough (plus I have some fun with an idea that the medallions have different models).
(The only way I know to start the gif over is to refresh the page. Oh, but first try clicking on the gif.)
Under the cut are the still pictures, as well as a written version. (...I 've spent too much time on this.)
Here's the still pictures.
And here's a written form. (...I'm not good at only giving the words with basic description. It was nearly unreadable that way. So I tried storyifying it. Just a little bit. It includes actions that are implied in the images but not specifically shown.)
---
Within Vlad's cave, in the future, Danny Phantom asks, "It didn’t work?"
Several feet away from him, the older Vlad stares down at the time medallion—still in the palm of the gauntlet he'd used to pull it out of Danny.
The medallion has a central piece with an entwined letter 'C' and 'W'. Above this, in fine print, are the words 'Back' and 'Forward', with corresponding arrows pointing counterclockwise and clockwise. And, below the C/W logo, are the words '10yr model'.
"…Perhaps something had happened…" Vlad says, "causing you to no longer be recognized by your time."
"But Sam and Tucker made it back just fine!" Danny says in confusion.
However, Danny doesn't give Vlad time to come up with any theories. "My future self is in the past, trying to force this future to happen. I need to get back to my time before it’s too late."
Vlad gives Danny a pitying look. "My boy, it may already be too late."
"No. I can’t accept that." Danny walks over to Vlad, raising one hand, palm up. "Here, let me see the medallion." Vlad drops the medallion into Danny's awaiting palm.
Danny looks at the back side of the medallion, saying, "If he was able to use one to go to my time, then I can, too."
The back of the medallion is undesigned smooth metal, but it's engraved with instructions. It reads, "Time anchor and travel device combination. Single use. Up to ten years forward or back. Simply remove to return to own time." And, beneath that, "Please recycle."
Danny puts the medallion around his neck and twists the front face counterclockwise, saying to himself, "I better turn it as far as it will go."
Before he even lets go of the medallion's face, a swirling bubble encompasses him, and then the bubble fades away.
Danny turns to look at the scenery. He's still in the cave—he sees the same cave formations—but, while there used to be a large, desk-like computer console and some lab equipment, now there's only a blank cave wall, and no sign of Vlad. "I guess it worked," he says. Then he flies through the cave.
A while later, after flying all the way to Amity Park, Danny hovers in the air, over the place the Nasty Burger used to be. Now there is only a large scorchmark, and a bewildered-looking version of Danny Fenton sitting in the middle of it.
"Oh no, I didn’t get here in time."
Danny has gone exactly ten years into the past, along the timeline he had started from. (In the corresponding sketch, this information is given by a narration rectangle that reads, "Exactly 10 yrs earlier in original timeline." ...Although that's not exactly true because it was exactly ten years when he first appeared in the cave, and it took time to get from Wisconsin to Amity Park. But the point is that Danny hadn't traveled far enough back in time to reach the intersection of the two timelines.)
Danny flies away, saying, "There must be a way to go farther back!"
The version of Danny Fenton left sitting on the scorched ground thinks, "Maybe I should move in with Vlad."
Some time later, Danny is flying through the Ghost Zone.
"I have no idea what the outside of Clockwork’s lair looks like. I’ll just need to trust I’ll know it when I see it."
Around him are floating doors and swirling patterns, as well as some kind of gear-themed castle that Danny has already passed (it's Clockwork's lair).
Danny turns his head. He doesn't notice the Fenton Boomerang approaching from the other side.
The Boomerang hits him in the back of the head.
"Ow!" Danny grabs the Boomerang and rubs his head. He scolds it like a disobedient pet, saying, "I look away for one second."
"Look," Danny orders, and uses his other hand to reach into his pocket, pulling out Jazz's note and unfolding it with a jerk of his wrist, "I already have one."
He throws the Boomerang. "Go find past me—or the me in the future? Whatever."
The note slips out of his hand.
"No!" He spins around, reaching for it.
"What are you doing way out here, Baby Pop?"
Danny pauses on hearing the voice.
He turns toward the voice and sees a maliciously grinning Ember McClain. "Ember? I don’t have time for this!"
"Well, you better make time. How about some killer volume?" Ember strums her guitar, and a spiral of energy shoots toward Danny.
"I seriously don’t have time! But you want volume? Fine! How’s thiiis?!" He transitions into his Ghostly Wail.
The Wail overpowers Ember's attack and blasts her through the air. She's pushed onto a chunk of floating ground.
The Wail ends, and Ember looks up in surprise and fear. There's a thin stream of ectoplasm leaking from the corner of her mouth. She puts a hand to her mouth and pulls it back to see ectoplasm on her palm.
Then she glares up at Danny. She coughs, and hoarsely says, "I won’t forget this."
Danny's just as horrified as she was. Wide-eyed, he subconsciously leans back, but also reaches a hand toward her in concern. "Wait, I didn’t mean to…"
But then he drops his hand and looks away, his expression hardening. "Never mind. Once I return to the right time, this will never have happened."
Assuming Jazz's note is a lost cause by now, he flies off, leaving Ember on the chunk of rock.
An unknown time later, Danny is in the Ghost Zone, hovering in place. He now has Jazz's headband tied to his belt, and he reaches a hand toward it, and rubs the material between his fingers. He says, "Jazz… Everyone… I’ll find my way back to you."
The camera moves upward until Danny's shoulder and half of his head is visible. His hair is a little longer now, and the shoulder part of his outfit is different. He continues, "No matter how long it takes."
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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 16: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should offer to help the travelers with their broken wagon.....
~
After much internal deliberation (and some zoning out staring at butterflies), The Adventurer decides it would be best to offer his assistance. Technically, he IS still following his goal of not getting distracted, because theoretically it would make his journey much faster if he were able to catch a ride on a carriage. So really, this is all an ultimate big brain genius strategy for maximizing efficient travel.. Or, at least that sounds like a good enough justification to him.
Gathering up all of his social courage, he approaches one of the travelers fiddling with a broken wheel near the far end of the carriage and meekly asks if there's anything he could do to help.
The man was so focused on his task, he seems initially startled to look up and find someone near him. "OH..! Oh, uhh.. help? With the wagon?", he smiles pleasantly, gesturing towards a few wooden boards that are just out of his reach, "Sure, kid. If you could just hand me th-"
"Apologies, but we actually won't be needing your assistance, stranger." A taller man, surprisingly almost matching the stature of the Adventurer, suddenly slinks out from somewhere behind the carriage, sternly placing himself like a barrier in front of the man working on the wheel. Wheel Guy nervously averts his eyes, making himself smaller, silently resuming his work.
The Adventurer tries his best to maintain composure against the weight of the tall man's bitter gaze, but can't seem to muster much of a response "Aeughh,,, uh… b-but, h- Bu--HHHh,,?.."
"Look, disregard whatever my father told you, he's old, never has any clue what he's talking about. It'd be best for you to simply move along." ('Father'? They don't look alike at all, and seem to be nearly the same age..)
"W-well.. he.. he didn't really tell me anything, I me-hhH,,.. I mean, I literally just got here, s-so...."
"Good. Even more reason to be on your way."
Placing a gloved hand firmly on his shoulder, the tall man begins to motion the Adventurer away from the wagon, but a strange noise interrupts, echoing from inside. Perhaps some sort of animal sound? Or a person faintly yelling about something? Or… both?
"WH-wHggg… whAT was t-that???!!" The Adventurer immediately stops in place, pausing to listen as the tall man keeps trying to push him ahead.
"I didn't hear anything, stranger."
"No, t-there.. was dEFinitely, UHH, a-"
"Likely something in the forest."
"Wh--aah... d.. do you think it was an animal?"
The tall man continues a dramatic struggle to 'subtly' drag him further down the road, whilst the Adventurer mindlessly digs in his heels, too distracted to even notice he's being so strongly prompted to leave.
"Many animals do, indeed, exist within forests. This should not be suprising."
"...It's just.. ..eughh… s… so weird…"
"I assure you, it is not."
"I-it really sounded like.. like it came f-from insid-"
"Yes, from inside the forest. Now, please, if you would.."
The noise interrupts again. It's definitely someone, or something, in some sort of distress.. And definitely from inside of the cart.
"wHoAAGH, aa!!! T-tHat's NOT from the f-forest, that-"
The tall man fully just shoves him now, sending the Adventurer toppling across the dirt, clumsily rolling and landing just past the other side of the carriage. A mother and young child who seem to be part of the traveling group simply stare down at him with empty blank gazes, wholly unconcerned about helping him up.
As the Adventurer fumbles back to his feet (still confused as to why he was even pushed in the first place), the tall man looms by the carriage, diligently watching to ensure that he leaves.
"Travel safe, stranger."
Despite his initial obliviousness, the Adventurer begins to piece the situation together as he stares back at the man, now fully convinced something suspicious might be going on...
…What should he do next??
~
~
~
Additional Information
the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has
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