#neon deflector

[themculibrary]

Slice of Life Masterlist 2

part one

A Drop of Water (ao3) - Vixen13 peter/wade E, 71k

Summary: ((Have you ever wanted a Spideypool swimfic? Well, I'm here to deliver.))

All Peter ever wanted was to be on an official swim team. In college, he got his chance. The coach is mean, most of the swimmers are terrible, and one of their relay members is starting to have problems keeping up, but Peter is happy to finally be a part of it all.

There are a few members who could really make a difference if only they had one more strong swimmer. Luckily for them, there's a chance that just such a swimmer joined their school.

Wade Wilson was being scouted for the Olympics when he suddenly dropped out of college his third year in and vanished. Now he's trying to get his life together in New York at a new school that puts little emphasis on sports. Then one day, a very cute and very nerdy classmate calls out his name...

a higher form of war (ao3) - gdgdbaby steve/tony E, 8k

Summary: The first thing that occurs to Tony is that the deflector shields are down. The ship is motionless, a sitting duck—a flying duck, as it were.

He jettisons up. His black pirate flag's peppered with bits of neon paint—in fact, the entire topside of the helicarrier is splattered haphazardly with broken pellets and streaks of color. The UN flag's been torn in half and is fluttering half-mast, which means they're probably breaking about ten different maritime laws.

aka: that's how I show affection (ao3) - quilling_me_softly T, 42k

Summary: Matt Murdock is an asshole. But he's Jessica's.

Jessica Jones is a (traumatised, foul-mouthed, hard drinking, absolutely) stunning woman of questionable character.

Or: moments with Matt Murdock and Jessica Jones. How heroes with trauma histories, rough edges and soft hearts fall in love.

A Study in Modern Life (ao3) - portraitofemmy, rainbow_marbles steve/bucky T, 5k

Summary: Five times Steve was totally down with the future.

A Study in Red (ao3) - alicat54c peter/wade T, 30k

Summary: It started, as all worthwhile things do, with the glorious gluteus of our favorite neighborhood wall crawler.

{Danger Will Robinson Danger!} ...

Because even when two masked individuals put in their maximum effort, something is bound to scrape wrong when they try to realign their lives.

Blood sugar (ao3) - everythingispoetry G, 1k

Summary: Tony is diabetic and no, it's not a secret. (But he honestly loves those green tea Kit Kats, too.)

Encounters (ao3) - Sonora matt/foggy T, 4k

Summary: Matt's not nearly as curious about the Avengers as they are about him.

(Yup, it's another Matt-meets-the-team fic)

Filling the Gaps (ao3) - ironfamjam T, 53k

Summary: Tony looked at him, bold and true and utterly sincere, “Kid, I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Like most good things, it started with an accident.

Well, kinda.

This is a story about how a snarky, emotionally stunted genius became more than a mentor and how a just-trying-to-figure-it-out, doing his best superkid became the son he never had. No matter how empty our hearts are, love can always fill the gaps.

Lust, Caution (ao3) - palettesofrenaissance mj/peter E, 14k

Summary: Michelle and Peter are friends. Best friends. Only friends. Late one night, Peter unintentionally catching Michelle in a compromising position during her, ahem, personal and preferably private “sessions.” He realizes that Michelle talking in her sleep and not closing doors all the way is a deadly combination.

Or alternatively: Peter passes by Michelle’s room door left slightly open one night and catches her masturbating and he loses his shit.

Make Yourself at Home (ao3) - happyaspie G, 23k

Summary: In most stories, Peter tends to make himself at home in Tony's penthouse. They have sleepovers and movie nights, and Peter has everything he needs right there.

Instead, I present to you: Tony gradually finding a second home within the walls of the Parkers' apartment.

[5 Times Tony made and excuse to visit the Parkers' home. And one time the Parkers made and excuse to visit to Tony's]

Moments (ao3) - PeaceHeather T, 14k

Summary: Snippets and scenes from Loki's life growing up with Tyr.

no cops at pride, just spiderman (ao3) - tempestaurora G, 3k

Summary: Peter and Tony attend the Pride parade as Spiderman and Iron Man. They have a good day.

Perfect Landing (ao3) - WhiteRoseCottage sam/bucky E, 39k

Summary: Silence, for a few terrifying seconds. Then Sam speaks, staring at Bucky with utmost suspicion.

“So just to be clear,” he says, grabbing the lease out of Bucky’s hand and skimming, “you’re turning down that…” —he raises his eyebrows— "Upper West Side apartment to go play fetch with me in a field in Dulles, Virginia.”

“Yeah, I am,” says Bucky, trying not to sound as enthusiastic about it as he feels.

“Are you secretly a golden retriever?” Sam asks.

Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun (ao3) - fallendarlings steve/bucky, sharon/natasha E, 102k

Summary: Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).

Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.

Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.

And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.

The Wonderful Life of Yelena Belova (ao3) - firesongwrites97 yelena/kate, wanda/natasha M, 105k

Summary: Yelena once thought she wouldn't live long enough to have a happily ever after. She convinced herself that she was never meant to have a future, for her past. That is until Kate, whom she can’t imagine her life without, and they learn that home can be more than just four walls and a roof.

The one where a former assassin and an Avenger are in love.

Or: Yelena gets her idyllic suburban life, and this time it’s real.

Trauma Makes the Heart Grow Softer (ao3) - mabbbbs yelena/kate T, 19k

Summary: This started out as the stereotypical/cliche carry your crush to bed and accidentally cuddle them trope we all want and deserve. (Update: It's actually so much more than that now, I cannot stop writing this piece! Many ongoing themes of peaceful mornings together as well as nights, and some not so peaceful times sprinkled in.) Pretty much now a slice of life story of what life might be like for the pair if they eventually did get together a while after the series ended.

we are all meant for softer things (even, especially, you) (ao3) - meekinheritance peter/wade M, 40k

Summary: Wade is contracted to kill Spider-man, but after some surveillance he decides the hero is just too chill to kill. Too sweet to defeat. Too squish to extinguish. Too golden boy to destroy. (Etcetera.)

Somehow, instead of blowing up in his face, it avalanches into a tentative friendship filled with crime-fighting, Netflix bingeing, top notch take-out, city-saving, shenanigans, weird alien symbiotes, and personal growth.

Which is pretty much when Wade knows he’s fucked. But like, maybe in the good way, for once?

Your Latest Trick (ao3) - ChortlesOfDoom loki/tony, pepper/tony E, 273k

Summary: Following a violent, masterfully feigned death aboard the Statesman, Thor believes Loki's gone for good; more importantly, so does Thanos. Exhausted and hungry for revenge, Loki returns to Earth, but as he bides his strength, anonymously supplying the Avengers with inside knowledge between his own preparations, he begins to see the true cost of holding on.

[wordsonly]

The Hollow

Eats saturated fats.

Licks a black knife’s edge

With parched, furry tongued

Serpentine flexotation

Blathers

In a head hole

Coruscating

Thunder

Scratching

The majesty of overreaction.

One hundred orders breathed

To the far reaches, of the pocket tooniverse

Where gang stars oppress without words

The flow of unnamed terrors

Spiral in the fragments of humanity

Streaks pulsating in colourful directives

Fire neon risk

Upon our caroteneous

Orangeade rebellion

Silence,

Golden

Bangs it’s loneliness

On the floor

A head bumped.

Fearfully hosting possibilities

Window shopping doting new lovers.

Far away from a child

Who see painful flashes

The stings of injustices past

Uninvited glowing criticisms

Persecutions

Re-running

No. We are finger lick’in.

Good in the void.

We grease the pan and chew the fat

Double fried and jam filled

Wrapped in clear paper.

Let us lounge,

Brilliantly drunk

Touch-screening the breasts

Of the pornographic sorceress

To gyrate with perfect athletesism

On the limp telegraph of incredulous lack.

We fly headlong into the rhythmic thought emanations

Deflectors crackling.

He, competing for love in this weak sequel

On his earth

The days stood still

A perfect peace

Artless, Musicless

Castrated from the tumescent poetry

of love.

She. Lost in grief

Rests on a four poster

In a five bedroom dream home

[myfeed-network]

GA Officers Combat Armor

Hey there, fellow wanderers of the neon-drenched underbelly! Today, we're delving into the realm of the Galactic Authority (GA) officers and their flashy getup – the Combat Ballistic Armor System. Now, before you start accusing me of singing their praises, let's get one thing straight – I might not be the GA's number one fan, but I'm all about spilling the beans on what they're strapping onto themselves as they patrol our concrete jungles.

First things first, let's talk about this armor system that's got more layers than the shady deals that go down in the back alleys. The Combat Ballistic Armor System is like a mishmash of the latest tech and fancy materials, all carefully woven together to create an armor that's supposed to keep these GA officers safe, mobile, and ready to pounce. Yeah, I know what you're thinking – what's the deal with all the fancy words? Trust me, I'm right there with you.

So, this armor system is supposed to be the shining star of the show, the one that makes these officers look like they just stepped out of some high-tech comic book. It's supposed to be the embodiment of GA's dedication to their crew. Well, color me skeptical, but let's break this thing down.

The centerpiece of this armor is the Silicon Carbon Laminate Vest. Now, don't let the name fool you – it's not about fashion statements. It's about projecting authority through style, or at least that's what they want us to believe. This thick vest armor covers everything from chest to groin. It's like a high-tech security blanket, designed to withstand everything from bullets to nosy questions. The armor while looking thick is lightweight and gives these officers high maneuverability but still protects from most small-arms fire. I've got to get my hands on some of this stuff someday.

But wait, there's more – the Nanoflex Uniform Fabric. It's like someone took a pair of denim jeans and gave them an upgrade, but not the kind of upgrade I'd willingly trade my credits for. Supposedly, it's a mix of strength and comfort, allowing officers to move like they're auditioning for a cyber dance-off while staying ready for whatever chaos this city throws their way.

And then we've got the Polymer Composite Limb Deflectors – the high-tech equivalent of medieval armor for our futuristic knights in uniform. These things supposedly protect limbs while letting officers do some serious acrobatics as if they're trying to outdo the acrobats at the circus. If only we could get a ticket to that show, I've seen an officer get a laser shot to one of these things and keep going. Anyone got a full idea of what this stuff is made of. If you do please hit me and let me know.

But hold on, things start to get even wilder. Those Sentinel Gloves are like something straight out of a science fiction flick. Conductive polymers and graphene nanofibers? Yeah, they might sound impressive, but all I see is a bunch of jargon. What's the real deal? Hidden Tasers – that's the kicker. These gloves pack a surprise punch, like an extra dose of "zap" to go with your handshake. These gloves also allow their armor to communicate to their fire arms feeding them data from everything from how much ammo they currently have to exactly where they are aiming and even lets them control the weapon to fire lethal or nonlethal ammo...yet and still I don't see them ever use the nonlethal stuff.

And of course, we can't forget the VN Biomonitor, It's like having a tech babysitter for your vitals, keeping a watchful eye and sending updates to your friends and bosses. It's like they've got an AI nanny that won't let them get too banged up on the job.

Now this is a mouth full of words The Hyper-Resonant Footwear Matrix, or as I like to call it, the fancy boots, is all about making officers run faster and climb higher. It's like someone combined sneakers with rocket boosters. Yeah, it sounds cool, but is it really necessary? I mean, what's wrong with a good old-fashioned pair of kicks?

But the pièce de résistance is the Neuro-Syntonic Strength Amplification Weave. Now, I'm no tech genius, but apparently, the armor has some kind of muscle-enhancing weave inside that can help amplify an officer's strength. It's like they've got a secret power-up hidden in their armor. It's all very sci-fi and stuff, but I can't help but wonder if it's all just smoke and mirrors.

And finally, we've got the Integrated Comms and the Trifocal Sight Display. Mesh communication and augmented reality, all wrapped up in a neat little package. It's like they're living in a world of their own, completely connected and in the know.

So, there you have it – the Combat Ballistic Armor System. It's a tech wonderland that's supposed to make these GA officers look like the coolest cats on the block. And while I might not be raising my glass to the GA anytime soon, I can't deny that this armor is a head-turner. Is it all a facade? A high-tech illusion? Well, that's for you to decide. Until next time, keep your eyes peeled for the neon glow and the high-tech show, and let's see where this cyberpunk saga takes us. ✌️🌆

MyFeed Post By The Neon Writer

[grumpy-zane]

Night Ride - Scruffshipping Oneshot

Wearing something other than his teal samurai attire spoke volumes of the importance and strangeness of the situation. Dareth said to meet him up at a storage lot, which wouldn’t have been bad at any other time, but somehow this was supposed to be a date.

Ronin wasn’t even sure someone his age could even go on one, and judging by the location, maybe Dareth didn’t know the ins of it either.

As he walked down the aisles, he kept his eye out for the right number and letter. It wasn’t too hard to find, and he thanked the overhead lights for that, but it certainly wasn’t setting him on edge. It was these types of places that were just a little too quiet, that made perfect grounds for getting jumped.

And so his initial shock from the metal door behind him sliding up was quickly replaced with relief when he realized it was Dareth who had caused it. “Hah, didn’t mean to startle you.”

Black leather, black. maybe it was a super dark brown, it was hard to tell in the lighting, but the gold embroidery and studs wasn’t anything he expected. His pants were leather too, with steel-lined boots that were battered with use. His hair was a mess with parts stuck on around his face and neck due to the sweat that was beading around his features.

Though, the makeup was holding okay. Must be a good brand.

Ronin blinked away his initial stun, “Wow, would you look at you.”

“Uhgh I know,” Dareth ran a hand through his hair, trying to quell it back.

“No I mean, look at you.” He smiled, “I didn’t think you had it in you to own anything like that. it just seems so out of your zone.” He pulled at it a bit, noting the gloves, “But I like it.”

His face heated up, “Well I just had to dress the part for tonight's activity.” Dareth stepped aside and pointed to the motorbike that sat surrounded by various tools, rags, and plastic containers. It was a cruiser loaded with saddlebags, wind deflectors, and an extra set of rear lights. The gold paint ran through the deep brown like trails of a comet, with the outline of a gold star plastered on the gas tank on both sides. “Ever ridden on one of these bad boys before?”

“Not willingly,” Ronin ran his hand over the seats, picking up the black helmet and unhooking it from its holder. He turned just in time to catch the leather coat with his prosthetic. “What’s this for?”

“You look like you’ll get cold without it.” Dareth let himself breath, unsticking the tank top he was wearing beneath it from his skin. “It’s a little brisk out tonight, lets see if we can get onto the elevated highways hm?”

--

Ninjago city became alive at night, especially downtown where the majority of the neon lights lit up the surface. The two had ridden through the main road, which mostly consisted of sitting or weaving through traffic. It wasn’t until they picked up speed that the lights became streaks of colour flying past.

Ronin stuck his head out, watching everything go by behind them. He didn’t realize just how much of it all was orange-lit. Sure he had spent many nights in the less built-up parts of the city, but the sheer amount of it as they made their way towards the desert was almost hypnotic. Not to mention, the warm body in front of him paired with the jacket he was swimming in was making it especially difficult to stay awake.

“Ronin..” The thief heard his name a mile away. He blinked when he heard it again, feeling the pressure on his hand and the wind dying down. Since when did they get out of the city? “Are you falling asleep?”

“Maybe...” He mumbled unto his back.

Dareth chuckled, the bike slowing even more, “Had one too many falls that way. let’s trade places.”

There was no way he was serious about this, right? “What?”

He put his feet down and flipped open the visor, “Hop off, sit in front,” Dareth lightly slapped his legs, “So you don’t fall off the back of me when we’re heading back.”

Ronin obliged, not realizing just how tired his arm and legs were from holding on for hours until he had himself re situated on Dareth’s lap where he could relax. “You know I don’t know how much of this counts as a date if we’re just riding around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t dates usually have.. you know. more stuff in it? Like dinner or a movie or something?”

Dareth blinked, “How many of our previous ones were just flying around on REX? The only difference is now you aren’t driving and you have someone comfortable to sit on.” He winked.

The bike puttered and turned around back on the road they came, the night sky peppers with billions of glowing specs. “Hey, the seats in REX are comfortable,” Ronin insisted, “Especially the pilots one.”

“really? you should let me test that to make sure.” Dareth hummed mischievously.

He laughed, “Sure thing, after you tell me what every button in there does first.”

“You don’t even have a manual for me to study! that’s not fair at all!” Dareth piped, the other mans laughs being drowned out by the roaring engine.

[inherbookishhead]

tell me a story, about the day Tentoo finds out about little Trouble.

So, here I am in the middle of revising my final draft of one of the angstiest chapters for my fic where those two are still trying to get it together when I get this ask into my inbox. What do I do? I personally - nothing, but my mind starts thinking about Little Trouble at least 3 or 4 stories before she might even be mentioned (if I ever get to that). And there goes my angsty mood :D

So here it is, dear Nonny, quite a quick off the top of my head story about THE day (okay, technically it spans over 2 days but still!)

The Day Tentoo Finds Out about Little Trouble.

Just like all life-changing days for the Doctor, this one began with the conversation about bananas. 

Their TARDIS landed on a lovely little yellow planet called H’voc that was currently sending a distress call to the whole galaxy. 

“H’vocians are a very authentic tribe,” the Doctor started explaining as they walked through the forest towards the source of the signal. “They live in harmony with nature and are extremely open to any guest that comes in but only if that guest bears a gift. In most cases, though, it ends up badly for them since whoever gives them anything shiny usually does nothing but trick them for resources, which, as you might expect, are plenty here. Typical. Although I love being able to come here again, I was sort of banned from H’voc for centuries back in our universe.”

Rose’s eyebrows shot in surprise. “What did you do?”

“Well, I didn’t know I had to make a gift, so when I met their tribe leader, I gave the only thing I had at hand - a banana, a very precious gift if you ask me.” He sighed and scrunched his face.  “How was I to know they were allergic to it? Long story short: they really didn’t like it. One might say, the incident caused complete havoc among them.” He gave her a goofy smile.

Rose laughed at him at first, then got really serious. 

“God, I’d kill for a banana right now. Why did you have to go and bring it up?” she complained, making her way through the branches. The Doctor regarded her with expression half-surprised, half-amused. 

“Finally, you developed a taste, Rose Tyler. It only took me, what, ten years? A decade of hard work and at last you appreciate bananas the way they deserve to be appreciated. I must say I’m really proud of myself, you were quite a lost case,” said the Doctor. 

The forest started thinning and judging by the voices coming from that direction, they were nearing the settlement. 

“Have you got a spare, though?” Rose asked.

“No, we ran out of them yesterday. I planned to come by Berzunian Market right after we deal with this. They have the best bananas in the whole galaxy, Rose. And they come in all colours.”

“I don’t care about the colour, I can literally feel the taste in my mouth. I need it now,” her eyes squinted at him in suspicion. “You always have a spare.”

“Not today,” he countered. 

Rose didn’t believe him for a second, and in the next moment, her hand was in his pocket, stumbling upon a gramophone, a pack of Venusian playing cards and a little woollen penguin toy which was the Doctor’s Christmas present from Tony a couple of years ago.  No bananas. She extracted her hand in defeat. 

“You are useless,” Rose said in a mocked frustration and pointed a finger at him, slowly walking backwards. Her disappointment didn’t last long, though, her face split in a huge smile and she almost tripped over the root of a tree she didn’t see from behind. Only Rose could call him useless and still make it sound like the biggest compliment, the Doctor thought. He still wondered how she managed to... glow so brightly that it made him forget everything else around existed. 

Their little bubble popped as they heard a loud shriek nearby. The Doctor and Rose immediately ran to the village to discover that half of the settlement was completely destroyed leaving very upset H’vocians to pick up the shambles of their tents. Being Mulder and Scully that they were, Rose and the Doctor volunteered to help. At first, the Doctor gave the mandatory present: the old gramophone Rose found earlier in his transdimensional pockets, then H’vocians told them about the ‘people from the sky’ raiding their settlements for little neon pearls called Hvaras that were exceptionally valuable on the black market.   

By the evening they all gathered near the bonfire where the women and children of the tribe were singing their tribal song of protection. It caused Rose an uncontrollable amount of tears and she made sure to give a heartfelt hug to everyone singing after they’d finished. She concluded her round of hugging back in the Doctor’s arms and after he asked her if she was okay she burst into tears again. Well, the song was rather nice, he’d give them that but to be as touched as Rose was right now was too much even by her standards. That was when the first H’vocian congratulated him. On what, though, he had no idea. 

The next morning started with lots of loud noises and another attack from the ‘people from the sky’. Rose got out of their tent first and before the Doctor could react, she got hit by a blast from the ‘others’. He could distinctly see the little sharp stones clawing their way into her body. The Doctor pulled out his sonic and fought off the attackers by interfering with their ships. When he eventually managed to get to Rose, however, she didn’t have a single scratch.  

As they later found out, the ‘others’ were different this time: the pearls of this planet seemed to have risen in price which made half of the happy-go-lucky raiders terrorise the tribe every other day. The Doctor gave it a thought and offered H’vocians a cloaking system that would simply hide them from the marauders and offer peace they craved for. While he was programming the devices over the Hvocian settlement, he couldn’t figure why the shield was getting half transparent. As usually, he dumped his whole thought process on Rose, who helped him put the little devices in place. 

“Have you tried turning setting 322 all the way up?” she asked him after some time. “H’voc’s atmosphere is three per cent thinner which means you need to strengthen the density of the deflector particles.”

“Oh yeah?” asked the Doctor. He didn’t know whether to feel alarmed, shocked or surprised. Rose always looked at the details. And she was brilliant at her domestic approach. But this, he thought, this was a whole new level of impressive. The Doctor did as she suggested. It worked.

The farewell with the tribe was very heartwarming. H’vocians made them the honorary members of their circle and presented them with a silver pin and a bronze door handle, which was a gesture of extreme trust. Five more H’vocians, including the leader of the tribe, placed a hand on the Doctor’s chest and wholeheartedly congratulated him. On what though, he still didn’t know.

The Doctor and Rose returned to their TARDIS and oh how much better it was to finally lie on a proper bed. It was. Until it wasn’t. The Doctor woke up in the middle of the night. 

He felt a ping. 

A telepathic ping. 

A telepathic ping coming from Rose. 

A telepathic ping coming from Rose that wasn’t Rose.

He shot up and turned to the sleeping form of his wife. His mind was reeling: a sudden craving for a banana, the overemotional response, the miraculous healing, the boost of intelligence… It couldn’t be. Could it?

The Doctor carefully placed his hand over Rose’s stomach: there it was, almost undetectable, yet firm and persistent. A beating of two little hearts, so familiar he could still feel it in his own chest. And the bond. That tiny wave of telepathic connection that found its way to him. She was reaching out. She. The Doctor smiled. He opened his mind and let her in and oh, how good, how whole it felt. There were some things you knew you’d been truly missing only when you got to experience them again, he thought. 

It was scary and thrilling and exciting. Nine hundred years of running through the universe, losing his first family, his children, his Susan. Centuries of attachments and heartbreaks and yet … here he was, in the parallel universe, on his last regeneration, levelled down by the human DNA, having a second chance at the family and life he had wanted. He’d never felt more alive than now. 

The Doctor’s mind calculated thousands of little variations of the features the little one would inherit. He hoped their daughter would have her mother’s smile and, well, everything because all good things would certainly come from Rose. And maybe his hair. Year, his hair would be nice.  

“Rose? Rose!” the Doctor whispered.

“Isleein” Rose groaned and turned her back to him.

He shook her shoulder again. 

“Oh God, remind me again why I picked such a restless ball of energy of a man,” Rose said rolling on her back and opening her eyes. “What is it?” she said cupping his jaw with her hand and studying his face. 

“Well, I’m afraid soon you will have to deal with two of those,” he shrugged his shoulders.

She gave him a look at that, then laughed sleepily, “You decided to sprout yourself from another limb?” 

As always, Rose just rolled with his conversations no matter how strange they got.

“Well, Rose Tyler, it’s more like you are doing all the sprouting this time,” he replied. 

“What do you mean?” she sat up facing him, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. 

They stared at each other for another moment and Rose grew more concerned with every second passing. 

“You are pregnant, Rose,” he said, failing to suppress his utmost joy and nervous excitement.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“I can feel it,” he said and tapped his finger on his temple, “right here”.

Her breath hitched and she covered her mouth with the hand. “Oh my God,” tears started rolling down her cheeks. She then pressed her hand down to her belly and gave a watery smile. “Are we having a little timelord over here?”

The Doctor laughed nervously, “it’s a little time lady I believe. Is that alright?” 

He felt like every nerve in his body was tingling, like he was going to combust of infinite love and deadly fear, cry and laugh at the same time, jump from happiness and fall down in shock. 

“Of course it is, you-” she didn’t get to finish because he gathered her in the tightest of embraces until her nose was smashed against his neck while her chest was heaving with happy laughter. 

“Doctor,” she said after some time when they both calmed down.

“Hm?” he asked and felt her grin against his shoulder. 

“We are not calling her Alonso.”

[j-the-wanderer]

FULL NAME: July. (Mononym, no last name due to retrograde amnesia)

NICKNAME: J

GENDER: Male

HEIGHT:  5′4″

AGE: 24

ZODIAC: Rabbit, Sagittarius. Doesn’t know his birthday, just picked the ones that looked cool.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR: Brown

EYE COLOR: Dark blue

SKIN TONE: Sun-tanned skin, fading to white.

BODY TYPE: Muscular Mesomorph

VOICE: Wanders, depending on the register. Sore throat goes either Vin Diesel or Solid Snake. Solid baritone.

DOMINANT HAND: Left

POSTURE: Straightened through exercise and lifting heavy objects.

SCARS: Multiple across his back, chest, and arms, old ones from deep cuts and new ones from grazed bullets. Mostly healed away through time.

TATTOOS:  None

BIRTHMARKS:  None

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S): He smells like a wood fire.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH: Two Guns, Arizona

HOMETOWN: Nomadic

SIBLINGS: Sevens

PARENTS: None

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION: Mechanic, train engineer, and hired protection.

CURRENT RESIDENCE: On board his offroad-adapted train, as of yet unnamed.

CLOSE FRIENDS:Sevens, Doll, Gears, Neon, Beats.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single.

FINANCIAL STATUS: Functionally homeless, but in a caravan with shared wealth. Doll handles finances.

DRIVER’S LICENSE: No, but also nobody around to enforce it.

VICES: Bit of an adrenaline junkie, impulsive and a bit immature. Good-hearted but naive, gambles easily with his life and scares the shit out of people when he does. Can be overconfident with his deflector and force absorption abilities.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Unknown, given extensive retrograde amnesia he’s not really explored this aspect, and it’s not a priority for him at the moment.. (As such, neither he nor I have answers for most of the questions here.)

LOVE LANGUAGE: Making things for the person he likes, from cool little tools and weapons to iron and wire jewelry, as well as leatherworked bags, bound books, and the like. He has a hard time putting emotions into words, but he will hug the shit out of whoever he likes, and can carry around most people on his back or shoulders.

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES: He’s shy about relationships, and isn’t ever really sure what to do next, but he’s kind, gentle, self-sacrificing and sweet in his own way. He can be a bit awkward, but he’s trying his best.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG: Rusty Cage - Johnny Cash

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME: Exercise and conditioning, reading, wild-west-style circus acts and sparring. Metal and leatherworking, occasionally hunting.

MENTAL ILLNESSES: Severe retrograde amnesia as a side effect of severe, repeated and long-term neurotoxin poisoning, with hysterical responses to any sudden new information relating to any time in his life before his memory, presenting either as extreme anxiety or presumed to be PTSD. Currently under investigation and treatment by Sevens and Doc.

PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: None

PHOBIAS: Needles, survivorship, death, a lot of the reasonable ones. Large bodies of water.

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL: 6/10

Tagged by: @rubyscout

[phantomphangphucker]

A Tail Resting In The Clouds - PhannieMay - Day 20 Comfort

Summary: Just let him sleep and sleep well he does.

(Spiritual successor to my fics Fenton’s That Broken Character and He’s Shifting The Shape Of Possibility)

Maddie sticks her head in the doorway, smiling softly at her, always too tired, son; sleeping with his mouth hanging open. Walking up quietly as to not wake him, ruffling his hair gently before going to pull the blankets over him. Pausing as something catches her eyes, Danny’s got a tail, a ghostly tail, instead of legs.

Gaping, slack-jawed, as she watches the tip flick lazily. Before slowly inching her hand over and placing it around where his knees should be, surprised it’s solid and definitely not her imagination. Pulling her hand back and mouthing, “how”, before poking at the tail tip. She’d find it funny that doing so causes the whole tail to wiggle a bunch as Danny snuggles his face into the pillow further if this wasn’t utterly impossible.

Taking a step back she shakes her head as all the times their devices malfunctioned around Danny or registered him as an ectoplasmic entity, filter behind her eyes.

At first feeling a little horrified and mild disbelief, but then confusion as she also remembers him walking through ghost shields, wearing the Spector deflector with no issues, and how really only half their detectors actually did pick up on him.

Maddie’s lingering horror is further squashed as Danny hugs the pillow and smiles warmly, her eyes flicking back over to the tail which coils around his waist and waves slightly; like a content cat. She rarely sees him looking so utterly relaxed and comfy like this. Even the tail had a relaxed quality to it, she’d never really seen a ghostly tail that wasn’t erratically wiggling or vibrating.

Stepping back up, feeling mostly just confused now but also happy that Danny’s clearly content and comfortable. Eyeing the tail, it’s hard for her not to laugh now, seeing that it’s patterned just like his pyjamas pants; grey knitting with neon green ghosts and UFOs. Kind of hard to find that scary and she knows her son would probably make some joke about a ghostly tail being covered in silly looking cartoon ghosts.

Throwing caution to the wind, because really, this is her son, not some ghost. Though she’s not sure how he’s somehow ghostly but not ghostly, as she takes off her gloves and touches the tail again. Actually having to restrain herself from laughing as it feels like his pyjamas as well, with the texture of thick knitting and not even slightly like ectoplasm or ghost “skin”. Which on one hand was confusing, but on the other is was comforting. Couple that with the lack of a glow, it was actually not all that ghostly. Sure, it was still clearly a ghostly tail, what else could it possibly be? But it behaved, looked and likely felt nothing like one, though she couldn’t exactly be sure about that last one since she’s never actually touched a ghosts ghostly tail before.

Lifting the end of it up like one would a snake, with her pointer finger; watching as it curls around her palm loosely. Before she gets faintly startled out of her wonder as Danny twitches and the tail squeezes a bit. Blinking at it, a bit startled at how strong it clearly is. But considering how muscular her sons’ become, she can’t say she’s too surprised.

Barely containing a snort as Danny sleepily mutters, “and I’ll have pancakes”, into the pillow. But his words also remind her that ghosts don’t eat, couple that with how mundane of a dream this seems, and this all becomes so much more normal.

Running her thumb over the tail, still taking in the knitted texture before stopping and gaping at Danny again; at the sound of him vibrating, purring, faintly. She glances from the tail, the end of which is still cupped around her palm, to Danny as he now looks, apparently, displeased at her stopping. So she shuffles and tentatively pets down the length of the lower half of his tail with her other hand, resulting in the slightly displeased look going away and the purring sound returning.

She’s got no idea what to do with this information, humans certainly don’t purr but why would that be a ghostly thing? Shaking her head as she decides to just be happy that he’s clearly very relaxed and comfortable right now. Letting his tail slip out from her hands and watching the end curl underneath his chest. Blinking a bit as she remembers the reason she even walked over to him tonight.

Standing up quietly, she grabs the blanket bunched up at the foot of his bed and actually pulls it to lay on top of him this time. Functionally hiding and covering up the impossible ghostly tail. But she can’t help but peek underneath to confirm it’s still very much there.

Turning her head to the doorway and back to Danny before walking out of the room and down to the kitchen. Flicking on one of the quiet scanners as she sits down at the table, sure enough, it picks up on Danny upstairs, like always. Muttering at the device, “why? And more importantly, is it safe? For him?”. Sighing at the device that is of course not going to respond, before glancing around the room. Tilting her head and getting up as she spots the SpookSense, picking it up gingerly as she tilts her head towards the stairs.

Poking her head back in his room before shuffling over to him. Gently touching the scanner to him, and patting his tail soothingly as she scans him. Knowing full well that it’s a little uncomfortable.

But seeing that it doesn’t show him as having a stronger ectofield than before, reassures her that he’s not changing or becoming more ghostly somehow.

Officially feeling pacified and comforted that his condition, or whatever this was, wasn’t getting worse, she elects to let him sleep. Kissing him on the head before heading to bed herself.

Maddie can’t help but glance down at his legs to make sure he does indeed have them, as he comes down for cereal in the morning. She also can’t help but wonder if he woke up with the tail, because if so, he must clearly have already known he could change to a ghostly tail. Or was it just something he did unconsciously in his sleep, that changed back as he woke up? But she’ll take comfort and satisfaction in just knowing he’s clearly well rested and content. “Well, you look like you had a good sleep, sweetie”.

Danny smiles warmly at her as he responds, “yeah, you were right. I really did need that new mattress”. Maddie only returns his warm smile with one of her own, over the rim of her coffee cup in response.

End.

[robotsynthdream]

[sheppardmckay]

Your opinion was not solicited

I bring my dog down (we have a 2nd floor condo) for a potty break and a new woman in the building is outside on a bench. He wags at her and she comments “Oh, somebody is wearing clothes!” (meaning the dog). I just smile and say yeah, taking it as an oh-isn’t-that-cute comment. I start walking away and she pipes up “But why?” I’m confused. I turn back around with"Why what?“ "Why is he wearing clothes? It’s hot.” Yes,lady, the fact that it’s 83 degrees F out has not escaped my notice, thank you.

The clothes she is referring to is a very light, mesh, breathable thing that just covers his back and is held on with a velcro closure. It’s a safety orange neon garment for visibility during night walks. We double it as a sun deflector on hot sunny days. He is very small, black, and he quickly heats up. He also has gastrointestinal probs and had heat stroke his first summer where we almost lost him and left him highly susceptible to having another. So we cover him and keep him in the shade on hot, sunny days.

I don’t feel like giving the whole dissertation to this woman so I just said “Oh, well he needs to wear it. It protects him.” “From what? Why does he need clothes?”

Ah, she’s one of those I’m-right-and-will-show-you-the-error-of-your-ways-and-also-now-I’m-nosy-and-curious busybodies. Fabulous. Meanwhile, I’m standing on the hot blacktop I was crossing to get to the yard to quibble with this woman. “It keeps the sun off him, he’s very dark and will get sick without it.” She opens her mouth and I swear if she calls it “clothes” one more time like I swaddled him in a wool sweater, a muffler, and booties I will lose it. She does. I don’t but it’s a near thing. I repeat myself, and take my leave. WTF, lady.

I cannot stand strangers who persist in personal questioning when you’ve already given them an answer and/or it’s none of their business anyway.

I complain about rude men a lot but I also can’t count how many times I’ve had women in our building criticize how I train, walk, or dress my dog. Women WHO DON’T HAVE DOGS. Like, who asked you?

I also get a kick out of the rude elder lady who moved into our building last year who doesn’t like dogs and makes sure people know it. Brilliant move taking a condo in a dog friendly building where about half the residents have a dog.

I ran into HER on the way back in. I went for the elevator, she stops and then says “Guess I better take the stairs” loud enough for me to hear. Good, knock yourself out lady. Enjoy.

Just, ugh. I may yet end this day by smacking some smart mouth. Meanwhile, my little furry son is worth it.

[anthropwashere]

we are all walking each other home

AO3 || FFN

(This is the silliest thing I’ve ever written. I don’t need to tag this body horror or gore or nothin’. I used the humor genre on FFN! Hope you guys like a good dose of the kids just goofin’ through another Fenton tech fiasco. Fic title comes from Mother Mother's "Family," because these kids are so good and I love them to bits.)

=

Tucker’s only on question three of his algebra homework and already wants to go back to grinding out a few more levels on Doomed in lieu of finishing when his phone goes off. The 8-bit Ghostbusters theme means it’s Danny, which hopefully means a fun—albeit potentially life-threatening—distraction. He’ll take what he can get.

He tosses his pencil down, flippin his phone open with a flourish. “Tucker Foley speaking. If it’s the Box Ghost again I want a divorce. Also, all my DVDs you keep hoarding. It’s been like three months since you borrowed—”

“ICAN’TCHANGEBACK!”

He blinks, takes a second to mentally untangle the panicked syllables—garbled even more so by the ear-prickling fuzz that means Danny’s in ghost mode. “Uh. Have you tried thinking happy thoughts?”

“TUCKER!”

“Okay, okay. Loop me in, ecto one. What happened, where are you, do I need to come charging in to rescue you triumphantly at the last second, et cetera.”

A painful crackle of static makes him pull the phone away from his ear. Sounded like Danny breathed an exasperated and loud sigh into the speaker. Rude much? “No, I don’t need RESCUING. I’m home, alone. Jazz and my parents are at that conference-luncheon thing for gifted academics or whatever—“

“Which you’re still not jealous about.”

“—shut up, bigger problems—“

Tucker rolls his eyes, leaning back in his computer chair. “Uh-huh.”

“ANYWAY. I promised my dad I’d clean the lab but I kinda spaced out, so I went ghost to speed things up but I accidentally knocked some stuff off the junk table and when I picked it all up one of their gizmos shocked me and now I can’t change back and they’re gonna be home any minute now and I don’t know what to do—“

“Whoa, stop, slow down. It’s cool.”

“It’s REALLY not.”

“Sure it is. Text Jazz, tell her there’s a ghost emergency at the house, make sure she stalls your folks any way she can. I’ll be over ASAP to look at whatever you zapped yourself with, see if I can’t find the undo button you’re too spazzed to notice. You call Sam yet?”

“No. Her mom dragged her to that thing at the country club today, remember?”

Oh, right. She’s probably dying for any excuse to get out of small talk hell, but this doesn’t sound like something that warrants busting out Plan E. “Alright, just you and me then. See you in fifteen. Don’t just float there and panic ‘til I get there, dude. Finish cleaning the lab or something.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“You’re not, like, blistering or turning weird colors and not telling me, right?”

“What? No. I’m just stuck. It feels kinda weird when I try and change back, but that’s it.”

“Okay, just checking.” He hums. “Sounds like some kind of anti-Specter Deflector.”

“Sure felt like it. It looks like a friggin’ Bop-It though.”

Tucker snorts as he slams his algebra textbook shut, getting to his feet. “Your parents are gonna get so sued when their ghost hunting tech goes mainstream.”

“You mean my dad is. He does most of the original designs. My mom’s just the one who makes ‘em work.”

“Like I said, so sued.”

“If I touch this and a recording of your dad goes off ordering me to ‘flick it,’ I will die and I will haunt you.”

Danny, hovering the usual two-and-some-unnecessary-feet off the ground, rolls his eyes. “Gross. It’s not gonna say anything. At least, it didn’t when I touched it.”

“Maybe you didn’t flick it right.”

“Gross. I’m pretty sure the original Bop It didn’t have a ‘flick it’ option anyway.”

Tucker picks the wandlike device up, careful of the frayed wires dangling out of its spherical hilt. It’s done up in the usual slick neon green and polished chrome of Fenton tech, surprisingly free of any Jack Fenton-themed stickers. Mrs. F has definitely had her hands on this, which means it’s at least halfway functional.

Color scheme aside, it really does look like a friggin’ Bop It. Hasbro will have words with the family Fenton if whatever-this-is ever goes out with the rest of the gear they pass around Amity Park like slightly corrosive candy. He turns it over, watching it catch the lurid light of the open Ghost Portal. “What’s this bit s’posed to be then?”

“Uh. ‘Pull it,’ I think.”

Tucker snorts. “Oh, because that’s so much better. You try either to set it off?”

Danny loops a little closer, fluid and boneless in the movement even though he keeps his legs as-is. He always reminds Tucker of betta fish when he’s ghost mode, for some reason. Must be the aura; it makes  him blurry no matter how you look at him. “No, like I said, I bumped the table and a bunch of stuff fell off. All I did was pick it up.”

“You touch the wires?”

“I dunno, maybe? It shocked me as soon as I touched it.”

“Hmm.” And that’s the trouble with Fenton tech; it’s all brand new. They’re building better mouse traps for mice that can walk through walls, disappear, and fly. Danny’s parents have to get crazy with their designs. “Any idea what it’s supposed to do?”

“No. I only pay attention when they give their inventions names.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re useless.”

Danny throws his hands up irritably. “I’m the one who’s stuck here.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s the word from Jazz?”

“She convinced my parents to pick up dinner, so that’s bought some time.” He fidgets, nervous. It always makes Tucker’s eyes feel funny when Danny does that in his periphery. “The Specter Deflector lasts twelve hours.”

“We don’t know if this’ll last as long. Even if it does, you’ll still be good before school tomorrow.”

That mollifies him a little, at least enough to stop with the honest-to-god hand wringing for a minute. “Y’think so?”

He shrugs. Sure, he thinks so. He also thinks it could be a half dozen other things, none half so reassuring. “I could try zapping you again, see if it undoes whatever’s keeping you from changing back?”

Danny winces. “Pass.”

Figured not. He gives the device a few cautious pokes and twists to see if he can make it do anything. He gets some humming, a flush of neon green light down the circuitry patterned across it, a few painful sparks off the wires. Danny skirts back nervously when it does that. It must’ve really hurt when it zapped him, because when he’s ghost mode he can shrug off a frankly scary amount of damage no problem. He looks okay, at least. Tucker did a lot of reading up on electrical shock after the accident—not like much of it’d be applicable to a half-ghost, probably, but he can’t help but sympathize a little when Danny shies away from anything that might shock him.

After a couple minutes he gives up. If it’s supposed to do anything specific he can’t get the thing to do it. Maybe zapping Danny used up too much juice? “Jazz can ask what this one does for you without looking suspicious, yeah?”

“Are you kidding? They love it when we ask questions.” Danny drops to the ground with a sigh; as usual, it looks like gravity’s reluctant to notice him. His hair floats a little, his limbs lag like he’s underwater. Betta fish, man. “Guess I don’t have any choice but to hope they tell her something good, huh?”

Tucker flashes him a grin, tossing the Fenton Bop-It back on the junk table. “That, and help me with the algebra homework?”

They retreat up to Danny’s room, but no algebra textbooks are cracked open. They just end up talking, half semi-serious conversation about patrol schedules and what-if scenarios, half gushing over the upcoming terrible Sci-Fi channel marathon this weekend, and the next thing they know the front door bangs open. Mr. F’s voice booms out Danny’s name. Danny goes deer-in-the-headlights stiff floating half a foot above his bed. Tucker grabs him by the ankle and swings him toward the wall, hissing, “Hide!”

Danny blinks owlishly. “Uh. Right!” He phases through a NASA poster and Tucker hears the bathroom door shut just a few seconds before footsteps come pounding up the stairs. Jazz bursts into the bedroom breathlessly, eyes falling on Tucker. He points at the wall and she nods, relieved.

“Come on,” she says. “I figured you were going to spend the night. There’s enough takeout for you too.”

“Cool, thanks.”

It’s about fifteen minutes of the usual awkward pantomime. Oh, Danny’s taking a shower because he got splashed with a little ectoplasm cleaning up the basement, nothing serious, ha ha ha! I’d be happy to take a plate up to him since we’ve got a lot of homework still, but oh, could you come downstairs with me real quick, Jazz? Danny wanted me to grab a folder and I just don’t like poking around down there by myself, you know? Thanks again, Mister and Missus F! You’re the best!

Down the basement stairs he slumps, exhausted. He hates lying. He hates how good he’s getting at it more.

Jazz shoots him a worried glance, all raised eyebrows and puckered mouth. He starts talking before she can pull that teen psychiatrist schtick on him. “We couldn’t figure out what the thing that zapped him is or how to undo what it did. I think it’s just low on power, but I dunno if it’s even got an ‘undo’ button yet.”

She winces. “Junk table?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, great. Just show me which one it was and I’ll see what I can get out of our parents.”

He shows her the Fenton Bop-It, tells her what he’d tried and what Danny did to get stuck, then grabs an empty manilla folder out of a filing cabinet for appearance’s sake and runs back upstairs. It’s a juggling act of weighed-down dinner plates and Coke cans to get back up to Danny’s room, but he manages.

“I come bearing sweet and sour chicken,” he says, kicking at Danny’s door. It creaks open a second later, a suffuse white glow spilling out into the unlit hall. He siddles in, kicks the door shut behind him, and has to lean up against it when Danny’s suddenly about two inches from his face.

“Well?”

“Personal bubble, dude. Take your plate before I drop it. And relax, alright? They just got home. Jazz hasn’t even had a chance to ask about it yet.”

Danny huffs but floats back a little, pulling his Coke and plate out of Tucker’s hands. “Thanks.”

“Uh-huh.” Tucker takes Danny’s desk, leaving Danny to float on over to the trunk at the foot of his bed. It takes a little doing, but Tucker gets him to eat. Of course, some of Danny’s reluctance is because he’s ghost mode; something about it makes everything taste funny, apparently. “Like Pop Rocks,” he’d said once, when Sam had tried to get him to explain what he meant. All snap and crackle no matter what he tried eating or drinking, with practically no actual taste to go with it. Shame, because the Fentons had gone to the really good Chinese place on Singer Street.

They stack their empty plates and finally knuckle down to do homework. Knowing Mr. F, it’s going to take an hour-long lecture before Jazz has any luck finding out something useful about the Bop-It. Danny gripes about trying to write with gloves on a few times ‘til Tucker sighs and points out the obvious thing to do, which is to take them off.

“Oh,” Danny says, sheepish.

Bless him, but NASA’s gonna have their work cut out if they actually decide to take his half-ghost butt.

It’s after six by the time Jazz finally staggers back upstairs, looking a little wall-eyed but otherwise not so bad off after a Jack Fenton Lecture. She shuts the door and sags against it, shooting Danny an apologetic look. “Well it’s not bad news,” she starts.

“Oh, that’s comforting,” Danny says.

“They’re working on a way to stall ghost powers out permanently—“

“How is that not bad news?!”

“Because that thing is just a prototype! They haven’t had any success yet on the little ghosts they’ve tested it on.”

Danny drops his notebook and pencil to float to his feet, gesturing sharply at himself. “Well it seemed to work pretty good on me!”

“I know!” Jazz winces, lowering her voice. “I know. Are any of your other powers affected?”

“Um. I don’t think so?”

“Ghost basics seem fine,” Tucker notes, pointing at him with his pencil. “Flying, intangibility, and invisibility are all the little ghosts are good for anyway.”

“Huh.” Danny flickers out of sight, reappears looking thoughtfully at his bare hands. “Yeah, that’s all fine.”

Jazz manages to look relieved and smug at the same time. Tucker would never say it aloud on pain of death, but it makes her look just like Mrs. F. “That’s what I thought. They’ve only tested it on little guys, nothing strong enough to take on a humanoid form like Spectra or Technus. Those ghosts, well, they don’t change like you, obviously, but they have changed how they look, right?”

“Right,” Danny says uncertainly.

“So maybe that’s as far as Mom and Dad have gotten with this thing and they just haven’t realized it because they haven’t tested it on a strong enough ghost.”

Seems like a sound enough leap in logic to Tucker. “Did they mention a theoretical timer on this power short, or is Danny gonna have to have a very belated parent-ghost son talk on the wrong end of an ectogun?”

Danny shoots him a dirty look. What? It’s a fair question.

“Theoretically? Twenty-four hours. In practice? And on something bigger than a cat?” She shrugs. “No idea.”

Danny groans. “How is that not bad news?”

“They’re positive any power short wouldn’t be permanent?” Jazz offers with a weak smile. “Plus I got Dad excited to work on it some more, and I suggested it might be a good idea to include a reverse switch. Y’know, as a precaution?”

“Well, okay, that’ll be good if they ever zap me with it in the future, but that doesn’t exactly help me now.”

“Sounds to me like you’re gonna come down with a twenty-four hour flu,” Tucker says.

“No way,” Danny and Jazz say at the same time.

“Our parents are total spazzes about getting sick,” Jazz adds. “They’d be all over him.”

“Yeah, that, and I’ve got a makeup history test I can’t miss,” Danny says. “This is the last chance Mr. Caulfield will give me to make it up.”

“You can’t go to school like this,” Tucker says, half-laughing.

“I have to. I’m this close to failing the class and it’s almost the end of the semester.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling so much in history?” Jazz asks, reaching up to rest a hand on his elbow. He fidgets up out of her reach.

“I told you about English,” he mutters, not looking at her. He drags bare fingers through his hair—it flows rather than falls back into his glowing eyes. “I have to go to school. We’ve gotta find a way to fix this.”

Sam texts them both about an hour after that, all caps locked grievance about silver spoons and sleazy old men gloating over the size of their yachts. Normally it’d be funny, but the three of them have been brainstorming and all they’ve come up with is a whole lot of nothin’. Their biggest hope—well, not Danny’s, but options the kid does not have—had been the Specter Deflector. It had shocked Danny as good as ever, but left him just as ghostly as before. Didn’t even short out any powers, far as Danny’s tested. Weird.

Danny scowls at his phone, tapping out a reply. It pops up on Tucker’s phone a moment later. Got zapped by another invention. Come over if you can get away

Tucker adds, for clarification, He’s not hurt and it’s nothing crazy. School’s gonna be a problem tho

Sam texts back that she’ll be over as quick as she can and leaves it at that. Jazz leans back on her hands on Danny’s bed, watching him circle the ceiling.

“Homework,” she reminds him.

“Bigger problems,” he grumbles.

“Putting off homework all semester messed your grades up enough that you can’t take a dive on one test.”

His eyes flash, two neon green flares that sting to look at head-on. “Fighting ghosts all semester messed my grades up enough that I can’t take a dive on one test.”

They’ve been coming back to this in-between trying to figure out if any other Fenton gadgets might help. Goody-good straight-A Jazz and troubled teen might-actually-fail-to-graduate-at-this-rate Danny both have excellent points. Ghosts take priority, definitely, yeah, they all agree on that. But Danny’s a slacker too, happy for any excuse to procrastinate. Still, Jazz is kind of choosing a bad time to rub that in his face.

Tucker is staying firmly out of it. He likes his eardrums intact, thanks very much. He lets them bicker, thinking. If they can’t fix this in time for school tomorrow and it doesn’t wear off in time either, option C is… what? Somehow smuggle a ghost kid into a high school that sees ghost attacks on the regular and hope nobody notices?

Pfft. If Danny had the same tricky shapeshifter powers as Spectra, maybe. Even if he did, it sounds like the Fenton Bop It would’ve probably shorted it out anyway. They’d have to bury him in like three hoodies and an aviator hat—ha, and a big pair of aviators to match—

“And what are you laughing at?”

He half-heartedly hides his grin behind one hand as they both glare daggers at him. “Nothin’. Just, pictured trying to sneak you into school in a terrible disguise.”

Danny scoffs, but Jazz’s frown turns downright considering. She hums, tapping her chin. “You know, that might be your best option.”

“What? Jazz.” He drops down to land beside her, gesturing at himself with a wide sweep of both arms. “This isn’t exactly subtle. Putting on normal clothes isn’t gonna get me far, and how exactly would you explain Phantom trying to steal my place at school for a day?”

“Ghosts do all kinds of strange things to alleviate boredom when they’re on this side of the Portal. It’s not like anyone knows much about them, right?” She grins. Tucker would definitely never tell her, but it makes her look just like Mr. F. It’s uncanny. “Besides, if you do get caught, you could just fake-scare the class, vanish for however long it might take to fix this mess, and then pretend Phantom kidnapped you or something.”

“No way! I’m not setting myself up as a villain! People finally stopped screaming more when I show up to fight the ghost of the week—“

“Day,” Tucker corrects.

“—whatever!” He folds his arms over his chest. He still looks weird without the gloves on; it makes it easier to tell there’s a green undertone to his skin when there’s more of it to see.

“You might not get found out,” Jazz points out. “If we’re smart about it, you probably won’t.”

“Probably,” Danny parrots. “Real comforting.”

“I don’t see you coming up with anything better, dude,” Tucker says.

“Not you too. Come on, I’m glowing.”

“You can barely tell under fluorescent lights.”

“My hair—“

“Nothing a beanie-hoodie combo couldn’t hide.”

“My eyes—“

He sticks up a pair of finger guns and winks. “Sunglasses.”

“We aren’t allowed to wear sunglasses in class,” Danny reminds him through gritted teeth.

“Optometrist,” Jazz pipes up. “Do you have anything important first period?”

Danny shrugs, wary. Tucker doesn’t blame him. Jazz and her Ghost Getter ideas tend to backfire on him nine times out of ten. “I don’t think so?”

“Well, skip first period and show up late to second wearing sunglasses. When anybody asks you to take them off just say you got your eyes dilated and your optometrist told you to keep your eyes covered the rest of the day.”

“That’d work,” Tucker says. “You ever get your eyes dilated? It sucks. Totally believable to wear sunglasses instead of those dumb roll-up things.”

“I really don’t think—” Danny starts, but Jazz cuts him off with a flap of her hands as she crosses the room to stand right up in his personal bubble. He tries to lean away but she leans right along with him, grabbing his chin between finger and thumb. “Augh, Jazz! What—”

“The biggest problem is going to be your skin, I think,” she says. “You’re just too green like this.”

He swats her hand away. “You can thank all the ectoplasm in me for that. This plan sucks. It won’t work, not in a million years.”

“Well not with that attitude,” Jazz replies, cheerfully undeterred. She skirts around Danny over to his bed to snatch up his phone.

“What are you doing? Don’t touch my phone—!”

She smoothly dodges his lunge, elbowing him in the gut with that sibling kung-fu Tucker’s only ever seen on TV and here at Fenton Works. With Danny in ghost mode she may as well have tickled him with a feather, but she makes her point. He floats back with a huff.

“Jazz.”

“I have an idea, but I don’t have the right supplies for it. Sam should though.”

“That’s not terrifying or anything,” Tucker mutters as she texts out something and sends it. He’s not privy to whatever supplies she’s talking about; she’s switched out of the group chat. He and Danny share a worried look as his phone pings a reply text that makes Jazz’s eyes light up.

Sam’s grin gleefully tap dances the knife’s edge between conspiratorial and downright supervillainous. She’s got her spider backpack on one shoulder, an overnight bag on the other, and what looks like a Goth’s version of a tackle box in hand. “Well Jazz, I have to say I wasn’t sure about this plan at first, but it had a chance to grow on me on the ride over.”

“I thought you’d enjoy this,” Jazz replies. She’s changed into her pajamas and put her hair up in a ponytail. In one hand she’s got a mint green leather bag with black polka dots on it. The other hand is hidden behind her back. Gosh, that’s ominous.

Danny’s the one that’s got both girls looking at him like they just might sink their nails into him and never let go. He, rightfully so, looks nervous as hell. Tucker’s done the smart thing and made himself as small and unobtrusive a target in the corner as he can. Alas, poor Danny, he knew him well. Algebra will be his new best friend.

“Uh,” Danny tries feebly, “What idea is that, exactly?”

Sam and Jazz brandish tackle box and polka dot bag in tandem. “Makeover party.”

Small and unobtrusive, small and unobtrusive, Foley, for your own safety do not laugh—

Danny’s voice cracks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard us, ghost boy,” Sam says with relish. “You wanna take that history test so bad? We gotta make you look convincingly human. Thus: makeover party.”

Danny bounces into the air, legs melting down to an intangible tail so no one can make a grab for his ankles. “Oh no, no no no, absolutely not. I’ll take the failing grade.”

As answer, Jazz reveals what she’d kept hidden behind her back: an uncapped Fenton Thermos. “Daaaanny,” she sings, sugar sweet, “Don’t make me uuuuse this.”

Tucker buries his face in his beret to smother his laughter.

“You’re awful,” Danny tells her. “The worst sister ever.”

“Perhaps,” Jazz agrees smoothly, “but I’m your sister, and I’m older. So get down here and let us at least try to make you look passably human? The worst that happens is it doesn’t work, you wash your face off, and we think of a new plan.”

Danny curls up more tightly in one corner of the ceiling, like a grumpy black and white snake. “No, the worst that happens is you giving Sam prime blackmail material.”

Sam shakes her tackle box. Mysterious things rattle inside. “It’s the 21st century, Danny. Boys are allowed to wear makeup now.”

“Oh yeah? I think I’ll take my chances strolling into class as just Phantom over looking like one of those creepy guys you hang out with at the Skulk ‘n’ Lurk. Shut up, Tucker.”

Tucker waves one hand apologetically, wheezing on the floor. He’s going to sprain something at this rate and the girls haven’t even busted out the concealer yet. If Sam doesn’t take pictures he will, best friend solidarity be damned. Both girls ignore him.

It takes a little more cajoling and threatening, but Sam and Jazz win in the end. Danny sulks all the way to the bathroom to change into some pjs (phasing through the wall again to avoid his parents). He comes back with his jumpsuit and boots in his arms and a mutinous expression on his face, and Tucker’s glad it’s not just him that stares.

Danny’s eyes flare. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tucker says quickly, because he has a healthy sense of self-preservation and respect for the stupid amount of super strength and speed Danny’s got in ghost mode.

“It’s just weird to see Phantom look so casual,” Sam drawls, because her favorite thing in the world is to push a guy’s buttons when he’s already down, apparently.

But okay, yeah, it is weird. The white glow off Danny’s skin doesn’t quite spread to his ratty space camp shirt and gray sleep pants. It’s an older shirt from a couple years back so even though he always gets them oversized it fits him well now. He stands differently when he’s ghost mode, straight-backed and chest out instead of his usual slouch, and this is the first time Tucker’s seen just how fit all that ghost fighting’s made him. Or maybe he’s only this fit in ghost mode? Tucker could swear Danny’s forearms aren’t quite so defined usually.

Danny’s glower could irradiate milk. His jumpsuit, when he tosses it aside to join his gloves and abandoned homework, splashes its own weird white glow on the carpet. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying this.”

Sam just grins, gesturing him over to where she and Jazz have laid out their supplies on his desk. Jazz wheeled in her own office chair while he was changing and Sam’s taken Danny’s, so with one final grumble he picks up the wooden trunk from the foot of his bed with the same ease Tucker might pick up an empty cardboard box, setting it between them. He plops down with a defeated hunch like a man kneeling before a guillotine. Overkill maybe, but Tucker’s not sure he’d be wearing a different expression if it were him facing the makeover party.

“If you don’t stop laughing,” Danny growls through gritted teeth, leaving the threat unfinished to let Tucker fill in the blank however he likes.

“Oh don’t worry, Tucker’s going to be too busy to laugh,” Sam says cheerfully, flashing him a wide smile that’s much more terrifying than anything Danny can cook up. “He’s going to be doing your homework.”

“Aw, what? Sam—!”

“And mine,” she adds. “Don’t worry though, I’ve only got algebra left.”

Danny laughs.

Tucker keeps his nose to the grindstone no matter what embarrassed squawking Danny makes. If he looks up he will laugh, and then he will die. And that would be an extremely uncool way to go. Worth it, maybe? No, no, Danny’s room is right above the Ghost Portal. He doesn’t want to find out if simple proximity to an inter-dimensional hole in reality would bring him back as a ghost if he died close enough to it. Look what standing in it did to Danny.

“Mascara?”

He bites his cheek and resolutely does not look up. Ah yes, x equals eleven, definitely.

“Your eyelashes turn white too. C’mon, hold still.”

“Don’t put that thing near my eyes, holy crap—“

“I said hold still!”

...What did x equal again?

Eleven. Right. Probably.

Tucker copies out the work and answer in Danny’s and Sam’s notebooks. He’s gotten about as good at copying their handwriting as he has at lying to authority figures. He’s still not sure how he feels about that little skill either, but hey, he’s almost too distracted to hear Danny whine.

Sooner than he expected he hears Jazz say, “I think that’s pretty good for a first try, don’t you?”

He looks up, furtive. Danny’s back is to him so he’s only got the girls’ expressions to go by. Jazz looks pleased, while Sam’s tapping her chin as she scrutinizes whatever-it-is they’ve done to him. “It’s a little plain,” she says.

“Plain is good,” Danny says fervently. “Please leave it at plain, this already feels really weird.”

“We are aiming for normal teenage boy,” Jazz reminds her.

Sam tosses something into her tackle box. “I know, but it feels like a wasted opportunity to not Goth him up for fun.”

“Blackmail material,” Tucker sings under his breath.

Sam laughs, Danny hunches deeper into himself, and Jazz gestures Tucker over. “Is he still too obvious?”

Prepared to say yes, of course he is because he’s a GHOST, Tucker finds himself briefly speechless once he does get a look at Danny’s face. “...Huh.”

“What does that mean?” Danny demands anxiously. Sam, grinning like a well-fed cat, slaps a hand on his hunched shoulder.

“It means tomorrow’s gonna be a breeze. You might want to bust out some last minute review notes.”

Tucker steps back, snags Danny’s sunglasses off the dresser, and shoves them onto Danny’s face. He leans left, then right, then hums. “Got some spillover on the laser sights that are gonna be a problem.”

“I’ve got a pair of wraparound sunglasses he can borrow,” Jazz says.

“Huh. Problem solved.”

Fed up with the lot of them, Danny jumps into the air and phases through the wall into the bathroom to inspect their work. Jazz and Sam sweep tubes and compacts and who-knows what else into their respective makeup bags.

“Thanks again for going along with this,” Jazz says.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been trying to get Danny to let me experiment on him for ages. The things I could do with that green undertone….” She trails off, a little wistful, a lot ominous. Today is clearly not the last time Sam’s going to experiment. Tucker drains the last of his Coke as a toast to the paces Danny’s spooky ooky undertone is going to be put through.

“He looked normal,” Tucker says.

“That’s the point,” Jazz says.

“No, but he looked normal. Like, normal-normal. How’d you do that?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Sam cuts in, waggling her fingers. “I could make you look like a ghost if you were up for wearing colored contact lenses.”

“Pass.” Still, whatever they’d done had even magicked away that funny blur to Danny’s features that always made Tucker want to clean his glasses. A pair of shades, a hat and hoodie, and Danny’d look like any other sophomore. Hell, he’d probably fit in more than he does usually; Danny keeps forgetting to pretend to notice the fall weather rolling in.

Tucker puts his empty can on the dresser to give them a little golf clap. “I gotta say, I’m impressed. If Danny can keep his cool for eight hours he might actually make it through the school day without getting caught.”

Sam scoffs. “That’s a tall order.”

Jazz hums. “I’m not sure what he’ll do if there’s a ghost attack. He can’t exactly wear his jumpsuit under regular clothes.”

Tucker snorts. Yeah, a polyurethane hazmat suit is a little harder to hide than good ol’ fashioned superhero spandex.

“He’ll just have to take it with him,” Sam says, but she reaches down to pick up one of Danny’s gloves with her lips pursed. “If it keeps glowing like this it’ll be hard to hide any time he has to get something out of his bag.”

“I can put it in this,” Danny says as he phases out of his closet. It’s a testament to how often he rejoins a conversation like this that none of them jump. He’s got a Dumpty Humpty drawstring bag in hand, shaking out the various bits and bobs that had already been in it.

“Oh, so now he wants to contribute to the plan?” Sam and Jazz share a victorious look. It really does not bode well for anybody, how well they’re suddenly getting along.

Danny huffs. “I didn’t think this’d actually look believable,” he says, gesturing at his face. “How the hell did you do it?”

“Don’t bother, dude, already tried. Lips is zipped.” Tucker kind of can’t help but stare as Danny lands beside him. As long as he sticks to fluorescent lights, Tucker’s just about positive no one will be able to tell the difference.

Jazz reaches out, grabbing Danny’s hand to stare at it intently. By this point Danny seems to have given up squirming as a bad job, though he does look nervous. “What now?”

“Your hands are almost as obvious as your face. Do you have any fingerless gloves?”

“No.”

“Nothing a pair of scissors can’t fix,” Sam says with a matching snip-snip of her fingers.

“Why fingerless?”

Jazz, twisting his fingers in weird directions, raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to spend the whole day trying to write with bulky gloves on?”

Tucker, best friend that he is, just manages not to laugh. It’s a near thing. Danny, as always, doesn’t appreciate his efforts.

“I think we should do your nails too,” Jazz says, finally letting him go. Danny slumps, goes to pinch the bridge of his nose, and gets his hand grabbed again for trying.

“Ah ah ah,” Sam teases, “No rubbing.”

There’s a dirty joke that could be made here, about two idiots who both ought to be failing biology for how badly they’re missing each other’s signals and how determined they are to ignore what’s—who’s—standing right in front of them, but Tucker stays quiet. He’s not an idiot. Dirty jokes only end in tears and blackmail.

“It feels weird,” Danny grumbles. “You’re only painting my nails if you paint Tucker’s first.”

“It’s not my secret identity on the line here,” Tucker points out. “Twenty bucks or I walk.”

Sam bites her lip trying not to laugh.

In the end Tucker’s twenty bucks richer and sporting nails done in a fetching combination of raspberry and lime. They all end up with a bit of lime polish—who could resist an inside joke like that?—though Danny’s the only one that gets glitter. Tucker makes a solemn promise to never cross Jazz; she can be downright nefarious when she wants to.

“Just watch,” Sam says as they do a last cleanup now that their nails have all dried. “You’re gonna wake up at four in the morning for some stupid ghost attack and be able to change back.”

“Don’t,” Danny groans. “You’ve jinxed me now.”

“Go wash your face off,” Jazz says. “Tucker, can you take your guys’ plates down? We’ve had a real problem with ghost ants lately; they’re like bloodhounds for crumbs.”

“Sure thing.” Anything to avoid the argument that’s gonna follow Danny being told he’s going to have to get his face all done up again first thing in the morning. He shuts the bedroom door, balancing empty plates and soda cans in one hand (muffling Jazz’s “It’ll smear if we leave it on!”), and makes his way down to the kitchen. Mr. F is there washing out his coffee mug for the night; he beams when Tucker enters.

“Heya Tuckerino. You kids havin’ fun up there?”

“A blast.” He grins, showing off his nails.

Mr. F chuckles, holding out one big hand to accept the plates. “Was there a homework break before you did your toes to match?”

“No pedis tonight, unfortunately, but our homework’s all done.”

“Good, good.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Trash needs taking out, if you’re offering.”

“Sure thing.”

“There’s a good lad.” Mr. F’s eyes wrinkle when he smiles fondly. He’s a beard shy of looking like Santa Claus. Or Hagrid. Somebody big and jovial and kind who wouldn’t hurt a fly—so long as it wasn’t a ghost fly, anyway. It’s a shame Danny’s so leery of telling his parents about the accident. Tucker gets it, really he does, but it’s still a shame. He grabs the trash bag and the recycling too, since it’s nearly full.

“Have a good night, Mr. F.”

“Don’t stay up too late curling each other’s hair now!”

“Oh please, and let Jazz ruin a ‘do this good?”

Mr. F’s laughter follows him out the door.

=

(The "Loop me in, ecto one," line is a riff on Dean Koontz's Odd Thomas series. The movie didn't come out until 2013 but c'mon, a series about a young guy who only wants a normal life but has to deal with ghosts all the time? You know one of the kids found the first book somewhere and had a real good laugh.)

[wub-fur-radio]

Wub-Fur Winter Hit Parade 2019

Time swings Like a wrecking ball into things Youth fades As quickly as a hit parade…  – Stephin Merritt, In My Secret Place

A mid-Winter parade of 21 songs that ought to be hits from 21 of the brightest stars in 2019’s indie rock/power pop/punk firmament. Featuring contributions from Ex Hex, Bob Mould, Bad Hombres, Sunflower Bean, The Neon Brothers, Stove, Bad Sleep, Vacation, Mythical Motors, and a dozen more bands that probably couldn’t march in formation if their lives depended on it.

Cover image adapted from Max Ernst’s “Colorado of Medusa, Color Raft of Medusa,” 1953. Apologies to Max, as well as to Mr. Stephin Merritt of Boston, Massachussetts and Mr. Steven Morrissey of Los Angeles, California.

Play on 8tracks | Play on Mixcloud (or scroll down to use one of the embedded players below)

Running Time: 1 hour, 14 seconds

Tracklist

Cosmic Cave (2:54) — Ex Hex | Washington, DC *

Stoned Face-Man (2:47) — Om Wahs | Austin, TX *

Things You Do (2:54) — Leopard Print Taser | Somerville, MA †

Sunshine Rock (3:09) — Bob Mould | Minneapolis / Berlin / San Francisco *

Don't Panic Steven (3:08) — Bad Hombres | Glasgow, UK *

Hippies & Punks (2:53) — The Keepers | Northampton, UK †

Come For Me (3:24) — Sunflower Bean | New York, NY *

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah (2:51) — The Neon Brothers | Wamba, Spain †

Wasted Nun (3:17) — Cherry Glazerr | California *

Favorite Friend (4:01) — Stove | New York, NY †

Reaction (1:30) — Bad Sleep | Olympia. WA †

Pretenders Shirt (2:18) — The Faculty | Melbourne, Australia †

7am (2:46) — Les Lullies | Montpellier, France †

Demons (2:34) — Kid Chrome | Seattle, WA †

Pounder (2:12) — Waste Man | New Orleans, LA †

Deflector Head (2:06) — Vacation | Cincinnati, OH †

I Don't Care (2:36) — The Fadeaways | Tokyo, Japan †

My Head (2:42) — The Wipes | Shepperton, UK †

Lines For Creation (2:21) — Mythical Motors | Chattanooga, TN †

Fire (4:00) — Valley Lodge | New York, NY †

Peanut Butter (3:54) — Julian Lynch | New Jersey / Wisconsin *

All tracks released 2018 (†) or 2019 (*).

Embedded Mixcloud Player

Embedded 8tracks Player

Promotional Video

Sorry, your browser does not support this video. Click here to open video in a new tab or window.

Video Soundtrack: Excerpt from “Favorite Friend” by Stove

[chooseywoozy]

Across the Void, Book One: Chapter 1 - Sky Captain

(NOW PLAYING AS NITTY)

The battle rages all around you. Enemy fighters zoom in and out, firing at your ship.

Nitty: How much damage have the deflector shields taken?

Your pilot, Zekei, looks down at his data screen.

Zekei: We’ve lost seventy percent of shield capacity.

Nitty: Move away from the smaller fighters! Avoid any more direct hits!

Zekei: That might not be possible. Void torpedo incoming!

You turn to Zekei to give him the order.

Nitty: Spiral dive to avoid the torpedo’s lock on us!

Zekei: On it!

The ship veers sharply away from the torpedo, drawing it off course until it collides with a Void fighter!

Nitty: Woohoo!

Zekei: Shields and ship remain intact!

The scanners beside you let out a steady beeping.

Nitty: Is that another fleet of Void fighters?

Zekei: Looks like a hundred at least. Plus a handful of battleships.

You watch as the enemy vessels appear in the bridge viewport.

Nitty: Our ship won’t last very long against those…

You take a deep breath.

Nitty: We’re out of options. We’ve got to escape while we still can.

Zekei: Leave the fight?! That’s a huge risk.

Nitty: My first priority is keeping our passenger’s safe. This is the only way to ensure their safety.

Zekei gives you a respectful nod.

Zekei: Understood. Getting us out of here.

As Zekei programs the coordinates, you reach down to switch on the hyperspeed controls… Only to see that they won’t be recharged for another hour!

Nitty: The hyperspeed is disabled!

Zekei: We’re stuck. In a few seconds, the Void will blow us apart…

The ominous red lights on the Void ships flicker as you stare out into the darkness, mind racing for a solution.

Nitty: Wait… if we turn off the life support system, we could boost the engines enough to activate hyperspeed!

Zekei: you want to turn off life support?!

Nitty: It’ll only be for an instant. And you said it yourself, we’ll die if we just sit here!

Zekei: I… I don’t know…

Nitty: This will work. Trust me, Zekei.

Zekei: Okay… Shutting down now.

He reaches out a shaky hand… then switches off the life support.

Zekei: It worked! Hyperspeed’s online and ready when you are!

Nitty: Initiating hyperspeed in three… two… one!

The moment you press the button, lights flood the room… and the simulation vanishes! Zekei stands up, shaking nervous energy from his arms.

Zekei: I can’t believe we’re done!

You let out a hoot in excitement.

Nitty: Woo! We did it! We finished our Captain’s Exams!

Zekei: I’m in shock that you found a way to bypass the disabled hyperspeed. I’ve never heard of something like that!

Nitty: Hopefully it was the kind of unusual that’ll get me hired for my creativity, not punished for breaking the rules.

Zekei bites his lips nervously as the recruiters start filing into the room.

Nitty: Relax, Zekei. You’ve been talking about getting a job keeping the galaxy safe ever since we were kids. The Vanguard will hire you as a Marshall. Trust me.

Zekei: You’re right. We can do this.

He takes a deep breath.

Zekei: I’ll go talk to those Vanguard recruiters, while you meet with those luxury transport line owners over there.

Nitty: Next time you see me, I’ll be the captain of the biggest luxury transport ship here.

You start walking over to where the most well-known recruiters are, but a muscular Celd blocks your path.

Hostile Celd: You’re the one who shut off the life support on her ship, aren’t you?

Nitty: That’s me… Uh… I tried my best?

Hostile Celd: Let me give you a tip. You could use some advice from an expert. Life support reboot sequences are notoriously glitchy. The process can take hours. A stunt like that could’ve killed everyone on board.

Nitty: Or saved them.

Hostile Celd: Whatever you say. Good luck getting a job… I know I wouldn’t hire you aboard one of my cargo vessels.

Nitty: I don’t want the kind of job you’re offering anyway. I’m looking for a respected job captaining a luxury transport ship.

The Celd scoffs.

Hostile Celd: You want to work on a ship lugging snobby socialites across the galaxy as they lounge around sipping cocktails?

Nitty: Not everyone smuggles their passengers in cramped cargo crates. Some of us prefer comfortable, legal travel accommodations.

Hostile Celd: I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a war going on out there. It’s the reason the Captain’s Exam now includes a combat simulation. And before the Vanguard can extinguish those filthy Jura, those fancy ships you worship will be nothing more than target practise.

With a sneer, he spits at your feet, then storms away. A second later, Zekei runs up.

Zekei: Nitty, is everything okay? Was the Celd upsetting you?

Nitty: It was nothing. Just a bully with too much time on his hands.

Zekei: I’m sorry you had to deal with that.

As you look more closely at Zekei, you notice that he’s having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Nitty: You’re hiding something.

Zekei: How do you always know?

Nitty: Whenever you jiggle your knee like that, I know you’ve got good news.

Zekei: You got me. I’ve been offered a job as a Marshall!

Nitty: That’s fantastic!

You throw your arms around him and laugh merrily.

Nitty: I’m so proud of you!

Zekei: Thanks, Nitty. I couldn’t have done it without you by my side. You were always there for me when I started to doubt myself.

He gives you another squeeze before letting you go.

Zekei: They want me to meet with them.

His smile falters as he looks around, and sees that you’re the only student left waiting to be recruited.

Zekei: Do you want me to--

Nitty: Go on. I’ll be fine You don’t want to be late for your new job.

Zekei: I’ll meet you outside after, and you can tell me all about how you snagged your dream job.

Zekei hurries over to where the Marshalls are waiting for him. The moment his back is turned, you let your smile fade.

Nitty: Do you think I ruined my shot, Vee?

Vee lets out a shocked beep from where she always hovers, just beside your shoulder.

Vee: Never! Don’t give up Nitty!

Nitty: I shouldn’t--

Before you can finish your thought, Vee starts beeping excitedly.

Vee: Major Hottie Alert! I might have to shut down my circuits cause he’s approaching with a determined and sexy stride!

You follow her faze and see a tall, graceful Dynamas heading straight towards you. His deep voice calls out your name.

Stranger: Nitty Elara.

Nitty: Yes?

Sol: My name is Sol. I’m the First Officer aboard a Gemini Class luxury transport ship owned by Artemis Enterprises.

Nitty: Nice to meet you, Sol. I’ve done a lot of research on luxury transport lines, but I’m not familiar with yours.

Sol seems momentarily flustered. He stumbles over his words as he tries to recover from being caught off guard.

Sol: Oh, um… I suppose we have a tendency to keep to ourselves. The company itself is rather small. Anyway… if you will follow me, I have a proposition for you.

Nitty: Is this a romantic proposition?

Sol: Oh… no.

His cheeks blush a neon pink.

Sol: This is more of a business proposition.

Nitty: If you insist.

Sol leads you over to the now empty recruiter area, where a single Orcana sits with her hands poised over her lap.

Sol: Nitty, let me introduce you to the owner of Artemis Enterprises, and my employer, Artemis.

Artemis: Nitty! A pleasure. I watched your Captain’s Exam. You are precisely the kind of Captain I want working for me.

Nitty: Really? I was starting to worry--

Artemis: No need to be modest. You are a luxury transport owner’s dream. You came up with creative solutions to stay out of trouble.

Sol: She also proved that she could react quickly and effectively to an attack. I noted her response time in my files.

Artemis: My finest pilots couldn’t have done it better. You’d be surprised how many captains don’t have the same knack for avoiding trouble as you do. Especially my last captain.

Nitty: Did something happen to them?

Artemis: Never mind that. His mistakes is your gain! One of my prized ships, the Atlas, now needs a captain.

Nitty: Well, I think I’d be a great fit--

Artemis: The job is yours! You start tomorrow. Meet me at the hangar bay at dawn. The Atlas will depart as soon as you arrive.

Nitty: I’ll get to captain one of your ships? Thank you for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.

Artemis: That’s what I like to hear.

Nitty: I’m truly honored.

Sol looks up from the screen he’s hurriedly been typing away on.

Sol: I just sent the paperwork over to you, Nitty. Please look it over, and have it back to us before tomorrow.

Nitty: Got it. Is there anything else I need to do?

Artemis: Yes. Try to wear something that makes the passengers respect you. I’d hate for our more spirited guests not to take you seriously.

Artemis rises and strides away in one elegant motion with Sol effortlessly falling into step alongside her.

After you’ve finished filling out the paperwork, you step out onto the bustling city streets of the space station. You scan the crowd for Zekei.

Vee: Nitty! I see him! And he’s looking goooood. Like a tall glass of Starberry Julep!

Nitty: You say that every time you see him, Vee.

Vee: And every time it’s true!

Zekei sees you and smiles brightly as you walk over. You quickly fill him in on what happened.

Zekei: Congratulations, Nitty! Or should I call you Captain now?

Nitty: Hm… I wouldn’t mind you calling me Captain.

You shoot Zekei a mischievous smile.

Zekei: Yes, Captain.

Nitty: That’s more like it.

Zekei falls into step beside you as you start walking toward your favorite local bar.

Nitty: How’d your meeting with the Vanguard go?

Zekei: Good, I think. Though I was too nervous to form a semi-intelligent sentence.

He glances around the dome of the station, a nostalgic look on his face.

Zekei: I know we’ve spent so much time dreaming of getting off the station… but I’m going to miss this place, you know?

Nitty: Yeah… Will you miss me?

Zekei: The thought of not seeing you every day… it makes my heart ache.

Nitty: I’ll comm you so often, you’ll get sick of me.

Zekei: I don’t think that’s possible.

Ships fly over your head as you cross the street, buzzing as they zoom back and forth.

Nitty: This is it, Zekei. I’m finally going to be a captain of my own luxury transport ship. I’ll get to see the universe and help others while I do it.

Zekei: Plus, I’m sure you won’t be too broken up about leaving your siblings behind.

Nitty: Are you kidding? I’m ecstatic. I don’t think I can handle another day listening to them argue, and they’re on a different station. My job as a mediator will finally be over.

Zekei laughs as he holds open the door to the bar for you.

Zekei: Don’t worry, soon it’ll be smooth sailing light-years away from their meddling.

You step into the lively bar, and find yourself instantly lifted to your feet by the anti-gravity dancefloor.

Nitty: I’ll grab the celebratory drinks, while you go snag a seat.

Zekei: Good plan. I’ll get us one of the booths over there.

You fly over to the other side of the bar. As you land near the counter to place your order, the bartender sets down a drink in front of you.

Bartender: Compliments of the Apri over there.

You turn your head to see who sent you the drink, and find an Apri with bright eyes staring at you from across the room.

Vee: Ooh! I’m already intrigued! She’s a knockout!

The Apri walks over to you with a tentative smile.

Stranger: Hi there. I saw you come in… I hope you don’t mind I bought you a drink.

Nitty: I’d accept anything from you. You’re stunning.

The Apri’s face flushes a rosy pink.

Stranger: So are you.

Nitty: What’s your name?

Before she can answer, someone grabs your arm!

Nitty: Hey!

You turn to find… your brother, Eos.

Eos: Nitty!

You glance back at the Apri, but she has mysteriously disappeared.

Nitty: Eos?! What are you doing here?

Eos: I’m here to celebrate your new job as a Captain! And Zekei joining the Vanguard!

Nitty: You already know? I’m so glad you came to support me! I can’t believe my dream of being a captain is finally coming true.

Eos: You should be ecstatic! This is an amazing accomplishment. I wanted to see you in person to tell you how proud of you I am. Not everyone gets as lucky as you and lands a job as captain fresh out of their exam!

Nitty: That’s called skill, not luck.

Eos: You were a little unconventional… When I took my exam, I flew into the battle instead of away from it. But that’s why I got offered a job as a Marshall protecting the galaxy.

You roll your eyes.

Nitty: Uh-huh. We can’t all be as brave as you, Eos.

Eos follows you to the booth, where Zekei is waiting for you. Your brother flashes him a lopsided grin.

Eos: Speaking of defending the galaxy! Zekei, do you know who your partner is going to be yet?

As Eos speaks, he slings his arm around Zekei’s shoulders and gives him a friendly squeeze. Zekei takes a quick sip of his drink to try to hide how his face flushes.

Zekei: Uh, no. I haven’t been assigned one yet.

Eos: Really? That’s interesting…

A hand touches your back suddenly, and before you can react, arms wrap around you in a tight hug.

Pax: Nitty! Congratulations on making Captain!

You pull away, shocked to see your little sister standing before you.

Nitty: Pax?! What are you doing here?

Pax: I hacked into the feed from your exam and saw the whole thing. It was stellar!

Nitty: You watched my exam? It’s so sweet of you to support me! This is a huge moment for me. It means a lot that you wanted to be a part of that.

Pax: Aw, you’re making me tear up. Wouldn’t have missed it.

Eos steps closer to Pax, and she immediately straightens her posture.

Eos: You can’t just hack into the Captain’s Exam, Pax. There are protocols in place to stop that kind of behaviour.

Pax: Not everyone can follow the rules as blindly as you do, big brother.

Zekei takes a swig of his drink, then whispers in your ear.

Zekei: I’m going to head out. I know by now that once Eos and Pax start arguing, it’s time to call it a night. I hate to leave you stuck with them though.

Nitty: I’ll be okay. I’m used to their bickering. Meet me by the cadet quarters in about an hour.

Zekei: Will do. I’ll need you to help me calm my nerves before my first day. Good luck, Nitty.

Nitty: Thanks, I’m going to need it.

As Zekei walks away, you turn back to your siblings.

Pax: You should tell your Marshall buddies to get a life and stop throwing me in jail.

Eos: Maybe if you focused more on your engineering career, I wouldn’t have to spend my time bailing you out.

You jump in to try to redirect the conversation.

Nitty: I forgot to mention what my first destination as Captain will be! The ship is traveling to Matara!

Pax: Oooh! The Capital planet! How glamorous!

Eos draws his eyebrows together thoughtfully.

Eos: It’s a long journey to Matara… that is, if you intend on taking a safe route through space.

Nitty: The First Officer sent me the ship’s itinerary already. We’ll be traveling along the Cassiopeia route.

Eos: The Cassiopeia route?1 That’s right alongside a war zone! The only ships that travel near there are Jura and Vanguard battleships! You’ll be in charge of a ship full of high class passengers who paid for the best travel experience money can buy. How do you plan on keeping them happy while dodging in and out of enemy fire?

Nitty: We’ll never be in the war zone. It’s far enough away. I’ll be perfectly safe. You worry too much.

Eos: I’m your big brother. That’s my job.

Pax sets down her drink, linking her elbows with you and Eos.

Pax: Enough talking. Let’s dance! It’s Nitty’s big night!

Your sister pulls you out to the zero gravity dance floor. As she lets go, you float up into the air. Your limbs rise up, and your body rotates under the changing neon lights as you give into the feeling of weightlessness.

Nitty: It’s about time we celebrated.

Eos: As long as Pax doesn’t make us do the routine she invented when we were kids.

Pax: I totally forgot about the infamous Antimatter Arc! Now we have to do it!

Eos groans loudly as you laugh.

Nitty: You’re the one who brought it up, brother.

Eos: You’re right. I have only myself to blame.

Pax: Come on, you know you love it. Now line up!

You fly in between Pax and Eos, with her on your right side and him on your left.

Pax: Remember how it goes? First I’ll tumble over Nitty’s back, then she’ll flip over Eos’s back.

Nitty: Right. Then we finish with a group somersault!

Eos: It’s all coming back to me now. Let’s get this over with.

Pax uses the zero gravity to roll over your back and jump up into the air, then you gracefully use your momentum to twist over Eos and leap into the air!

Nitty: Woo!

Eos launches himself up into position, so the three of you are hovering in a circle.

Pax: Time for the big finale!

In unison, you each roll outward in perfect somersaults!

Eos: Yeehaw!

Nitty: We did it--

Before you can finish, your foot hits a large Celd in the chest… the same Celd from your exam!

Hostile Celd: Oof!

Nitty: Uh oh!

The Celd roars loudly in anger.

Hostile Celd: I remember you! You think you can hit me as payback for calling you out at your Captain’s Exam?!

Nitty: I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m really sorry! I swear it was an accident!

Hostile Celd: You must think I’m stupid to believe that!

Pax whirls over to move between you and the Celd. Her petite frame is nearly a third of the size of him.

Pax: You need to back off. That’s my sister you’re talking to.

Hostile Celd: That’s funny, all I see is a coward who’d flee from a fight.

He spits the last part in your direction. Pax is about to retort when Eos floats over to gently guide her away. He then addresses the Celd authoritatively.

Eos: Take it easy. I’m a Vanguard Marshall. We can all walk away peacefully.

You’ve just turned away when you hear Pax shout…

Pax: Nitty, watch out!

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the Celd’s fist flying toward you! You bend backward… and watch as the Celd’s arm swings through the air harmlessly.

Nitty: Missed me.

Hostile Celd: Let’s see you be clever when there’s no life support system for you to cut.

Pax launches herself at the Celd as she lets out a battlecry.

Pax: Get your grubby hands away from her!

The Celd growls and rips Pax off of him, his fingernails drawing blood.

Hostile Celd: Pathetic gutter rat!

Pax screams as the Celd flings her into a group of nearby dancers.

Pax: Aaaah!

You rush to your sister’s side.

Nitty: Pax! Are you okay?

As you untangle Pax from the frightened patrons, Eos throws his body into the Celd, sending him flying!

Hostile Celd: Arrghh! What happened to walking away peacefully?

The Celd tries to kick your brother as Eos approaches, but Eos catches the Celd’s leg and flings him into the glass window!

Eos: You went after my siblings. Peace is going out the window… and so are you!

You speed through the air, rushing to help Eos as he dodges the Celd’s punches.

Eos: Nitty! Hold down his left wrist while I get cuffs on him!

Eos removes a pair of cuffs from his Marshall belt, and clamps them down on the Celd’s right wrist. You grab the Celd’s left wrist and hold it still as Eos slaps the cuff on it!

Eos: Nice work! You’ve got Marshall quick reflexes.

Nitty: Thanks! Do I get a citizen’s arrest badge?

Eos: Sorry, we only give those out to kids.

Instead of giving up, the Celd pumps his cuffed arms into the glass wall of the dome!

Hostile Celd: Raarg!

Eos: Stand down, now! Backup is on the way. I suggest you don’t make this any more difficult for yourself.

Hostile Celd: I’ll tear this whole place apart if it means taking you down with me!

He pounds on the glass again with his exceptional strength. A tremor ripples through the room!

Hostile Celd: Let’s see how you handle a real life situation outside of the simulation room!

Nitty: That doesn’t look good.

Eos: What should we do? If that glass cracks, this whole space station will collapse!

The bar shakes again as you frantically search the room for some kind of solution.

Nitty: I’ve got it! Pax, disable the zero gravity controls!

Pax: Good thinking, sis!

Down below, Pax somersaults over to the zero gravity panel.

Pax: This will just take a sec…

As the Celd bangs on the glass, Pax’s fingers speed over the controls.

Nitty: Pax, hurry!

Pax: I need everybody to get off the dancefloor this instant!

The other dancers scream and fly over to the booths on the far side.

Pax: Cutting the power!

You, Eos, and the Celd drop suddenly toward the ground… Eos crashing directly on top of the Celd, while you fall directly on Pax!

Hostile Celd: Ugggh,,,

Nitty: Acck!

Pax: Oof!

Eos drags the Celd to his feet as a group of Marshalls swarns inside to retrieve the rabble rouser.

Hostile Celd: Get your filthy hands off me!

You stand up, then help your sister.

Nitty: Nice going with those controls, Pax! How’d you know the Celd wouldn’t land on Eos?

Pax: Uh… wishful thinking?

Eos shoots Pax a glare, then glances around at the mess left in the wake of the brawl.

Eos: Since I’ve avoided being crushes, I’m going to go give the bartender a tip for cleaning this up.

As Eos head over to the other side of the bar, you step outside with Pax.

Pax: Nothing like surviving a good bar fight to make you feel alive.

Nitty: Instead of getting in bar fights every night, you should be using your engineering talents for noble causes. I mean, you hacked into that zero gravity system like it was nothing. Think of all the good you could do, Pax.

Pax: I don’t get into bar fights every night. Sometimes it’s a street fight… or a spirited arm wrestle.

Nitty: I’m not kidding around. Listen… It’s great that you always stand up for others. I know you want to do the right thing. That’s admirable, but you don’t always get to decide what that is.

Pax: I don’t always think I’m right…

You shoot a sideways glance at your sister.

Nitty: Uh huh.

Pax: Okay, maybe I do.

Nitty: My point is, you should spend time doing what’s best for you, and quit acting on impulse. You can’t take on the whole galaxy.

She flashes you a playful smile.

Pax: You say that like it’s easy to quit being such a stellar galactic hero. You’re right. Something has to change. I promise, Nitty, from here on out, I’m going to turn things around.

Nitty: I hope for your sake that’s true.

You and Pax have crossed to the other side of the street when you hear footsteps behind you.

Eos: Wait up! Nitty, you can’t leave the station without saying goodbye to your big brother.

Nitty: I guess I don’t have a choice.

Pax: Oh right! I didn’t even think about how we weren’t going to see you for a while! What’ll we do without you?

Nitty: Without me, maybe you’ll learn to get along. Now’s your chance to get closer!

Your siblings look at each other uncertainly.

Pax: ...Um, great?

You reach the crossroads on the other side of the street.

Nitty: Well, I guess this is goodbye.

Pax throws her arms around you, standing on the tips of her toes to reach your neck.

Pax: I’ll miss you, sis.

Eos: Maybe we’ll see each other sooner than you think.

You let out a startled chuckle.

Nitty: No offense, brother, but I hope not. I’m ready for a fresh start.

After you’ve finished saying goodbye to both of them, you head down the street to meet Zekei in front of the cadet quarters.

Zekei: I didn’t think you’d ever get away from them.

Nitty: Me neither. How should I celebrate my newfound freedom?

Zekei: I was hoping you would want to come lay out on the top of the dome with me.

Nitty: You want to stare up at the stars together one last time?

He casts his eyes down for a second.

Zekei: There’s nothing I’ll miss more than the hours we used to spend up there together. So, what do you think?

Nitty: Let’s go.

Zekei: Lead the way.

After climbing up the stairs to the top of dome, you step out onto the glass beneath the air shield.

Nitty: I’ll never get tired of this.

Zekei smiles and lays down for a better view of the stars.

Zekei: It’s so peaceful out here.

You start to bend down beside him… As you lie down, you place your feet over his, the bare skin around your ankles touching his.

Zekei: This is nice.

Nitty: It’s surprisingly cosy.

Overhead, a shooting sky darts across the dark sky.

Zekei: I can’t believe this is the last time we’ll be up here.

Nitty: I know. I can barely remember when we started doing this. But think of how far we’ve come. We used to lie here dreaming of the future.

Zekei: You swore you’d be a captain someday.

Nitty: And you vowed to become a Marshall.

He turns his head to look at you.

Zekei: We should set a new goal. Something to work toward.

Nitty: Let’s promise to come back here together one day. That way, no matter how far apart we get, this place will always be our place.

Zekei: We’ll always find a way back to each other.

Nitty: I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Zekei: Neither would I.

A large, sleek spaceship rumbles as it flies above.

Nitty: Soon I’ll be up in something like that. Can you believe how long it’s been since we left Cyber?

Zekei: It feels like a lifetime ago that we packed up everything to come here. I was terrified. The only thing that kept me from turning around and going home was having you beside me.

Nitty: I couldn’t have been happier to leave all of it behind. Especially my siblings.

Zekei: I know Pax and Eos drive you crazy… but the three of you have always been like family to me. When they showed up on the station today after all this time apart, I was glad to see them again. I’d really missed them.

Nitty: I bet you missed Eos’ charm. I swear he gets out of almost any situation when he flashes his smile.

Zekei: We’re lucky he doesn’t use it for evil. Friends like Eos and Pax don’t come along every day. They’re the only ones who’ve literally taken a hit while defending me before.

Nitty: What?! Why have I never heard this story?

Zekei: i guess I was embarrassed, You and I must’ve been about ten. There was this group of kids who’d pick on me on my way home from your house every day.

Nitty: Zekei, you should’ve told me. That’s terrible.

He shrugs, trying to brush it off as nothing.

Zekei: It was typical stuff. They’d make fun of me for wanting to be a Marshall. Say that a Technical Cyber could never become a Community Cyber.

Nitty: I know Pax was told the reverse. She always hated that. Especially since she hates when anyone tries to tell her what to do.

Zekei: I think it’s part of what brought me closer to Pax. You and I were best friends, and Eos and I shared the desire to become Marshalls. But with Pax, we  both felt like outcasts.

Nitty: So what happened that day?

Zekei: I’d gotten one of those Marshall badge stickers they give kids. The oldest bully came over and tore it right off me, then shoved me to the ground and let the other kids kick me. Eos and Pax came running out of the house screaming at them. Pax jumped on the back of the kid who’d shoved me and started punching him, while Eos stopped the other kids from attacking me.

Nitty: Were you okay?

Zekei: A few bruises. Pax and Eos kept fighting until the bullies ran away screaming. Eos helped me up off the ground and said I’d never have to worry about those kids again. And I never did. Not once.

Nitty: I never knew they did that for you. I guess I can’t say Eos and Pax were never there for us. Even though, in my case, it was mostly when I didn’t want them to be.

Zekei lets out a gentle chuckle.

Zekei: Were you glad to see them today? To say goodbye?

Nitty: Yes. Despite everything I love them. They’re my family. I know they mean well. Even if it doesn’t feel that way most of the time.

He nudges your shoulder with his teasingly.

Zekei: Nice of you to give them points for effort.

You spread your arms out to encompass the vastness of space.

Nitty: Once we’re out on our own in the galaxy, all of this will be a million light-years away.

Zekei: I’m really glad you came up here with me tonight.

Nitty: Me too. This was the perfect way to say goodbye to all this.

He tilts his head to catch a glimpse of a passing comet… You scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder. You feel his smile as he leans his cheek against your hair.

Zekei: I could stay like this forever.

Nitty: We’ve got too much ahead of us to stand still.

Zekei: I’ll try to remember that when I’m missing you.

As you gaze up at the comet streaking across the sky, you find yourself anxious to be flying among the stars.

The next morning, you take one last look at the city streets as you head over to the entrance to the lift.

Nitty: This is it, Vee. My first day as Captain.

Vee: The galaxy better be ready because you’re going to be the best captain ever!

As you chuckle, you see Zekei striding towards you in his new Marshall uniform.

Zekei: I can’t believe I finally get to wear one of these uniforms.

He tries to smooth down the front of his shirt, but his hands are shaking too much. His expression wavers as he glances back up at you.

Zekei: Do I look okay? I’m worried I don’t look the part.

Nitty: You look gooooood. You’re one dapper Cyber.

Zekei’s face turns bright red.

Zekei: I don’tknow about that… but thanks. It’s probably just the uniform.

Nitty: You’re the one making that uniform look handsome.

As you step into the lift headed to the outskirts of the space station, Vee perks up at the mention of clothes.

Vee: Ooh! Nitty! I made something for you!

Nitty: You did?

You lean toward Zekei conspiritorially.

Nitty: Back in a minute, Vee’s in full fashion mode.

Zekei: Have fun. I know how passionate she can get.

The walls of your virtual closet spring up around you as Vee twirls back and forth in excitement.

Vee: I made a captain’s hat for you! I even put the symbol of your new ship, the Atlas, on it!

You wink at yourself in the mirror.

Nitty: I was made to wear this.

Vee: I also virtually designed a uniform fit for a luxury transport ship captain! If you like it, we can make it for you! If you look the part, the crew and passengers will have no choice but to welcome you with open arms! I’ll have to shut down your closet to recharge for a while after this, so act now! … Eeeeek! You look so commanding! Like a real captain!

Nitty: That’s good, since I am a real captain.

The virtual closet dissolves, leaving you standing on the landing platform as the lift zooms to a stop.

Nitty: All set. Wish me luck on my first day.

Zekei looks your new ensemble up and down.

Zekei: In that outfit, everyone will follow your orders. I know I would.

Nitty: That’s what I’m hoping for.

Zekei: I expect to hear everything about your first day. Even the boring stuff.

He starts walking across the platform.

Zekei: Come on, I’ll walk with you to your ship. Then I’ve got to hurry over to 24A before my nerves get the better of me.

You stop mid-step to stare at him.

Nitty: Wait… the Atlas is docked at 24A.

Zekei: That’s right, the Atlas. The Senior Marshall I’m partnering with wants me to report to him on board.

You hear the sound of your brother chuckling behind you.

Eos; Yes, I do. I pulled a few strings and got Zekei assigned as my partner. Then I pulled a few more to get us assigned to the Atlas. This way I can keep my little sister safe, and the gang is all back together.

Nitty: Eos--

Before you can finish your thought, Pax appears and throws her arms around you and Eos.

Pax: It’s not a reunion without me! I snagged the Chief Engineering job aboard the Atlast!

Nitty: Pax?!

Artemis appears up ahead, waving you over to her.

Artemis: Nitty, over here!

As you leave, you hear your siblings begin to bicker, and Zekei attempting to mediate. You quickly collect yourself to face your new boss.

Nitty: Good morning, Artemis. It’s good to see you.

Artemis: We’re on limited time here, Nitty. Are you ready to see your ship?

Nitty: Yes! I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life. I feel like everything has been leading me to this.

Artemis: That’s exactly how I felt when I captained my first ship.

As you step onto platform 24A, Artemis sweeps her hand out with a smile.

Artemis: Nitty, this is the Atlas.

Thoughts on the episode…

Okay, so… first off the music is incredible. Especially in the diamond scene with Zekei, it was giving me goosebumps! It’s great that Pixelberry are more able to create more music for individual stories now.

The LI in this story so far are… eh. I’m hoping we meet some more in chapter two. Zekei feels too much like a friend even when I chose the romantic options. Sol was cute, but also I don’t trust Artemis so I feel like by extension I don’t trust him all that much. The girl at the bar was hot, actually. So maybe her?

I really like Eos and Pax actually. The only time when I thought they were actually as invasive as MC makes out is right at the end when they suddenly all turned up with jobs on the Atlas to keep an eye on us. How the hell did Pax get a job as the Chief Engineer when she’s apparently nothing but trouble? She might be skilled but if she’s always getting into fights, it doesn’t really scream professional.

Vee needs to go into the bin. Such an unnecessary addition to the whole story… do we really need a cute little sidekick that, at it’s base level, is just a horny wardrobe? There are other ways to relieve the tension.

Fave Character of the Chapter: Pax

Least Fave Character of the Chapter: Vee

[blastikmusik]

retro wave 162

Euan Ellis - Ultrasonic The Pyramid - Helmoltz's Dream Peter Aries - Velox Venor (Race Edition) YuKnoWatt - Looking Back Terminal Effect - Distant Galaxy Neon Deflector - Outpost X CYBERTHING - First Strike (Dome Of The Darkness Remix) Das mörtal - The Void Dranlock - Junkie Embryonic - A Tale of Pilgrims and Exiled Cyberpunk 2077 - Rite Of Passage Laurent Colson - The Illusion Of Time Neodyne Project - Eta Orionis Stilz - You Got Me Hooked Synth Street - Thunder in Paradise Terminal Effect - Plasmasphere Cyberpunk 2077 - Hanako & Yorinobu

want to support me? https://www.patreon.com/bLASTIK http://ko-fi.com/blastik www.paypal.me/KAYLEPH

[mafmatiks]

SUPREME x FOX NYC streetwear brand and serial collaborator Supreme collaborate with Irvine, California-based motocross and extreme sports lifestyle brand Fox Racing. The collection includes a moto jersey top, a moto pant, a Proframe roost deflector vest, bomber LT gloves, Vue goggles and a moto hand grip, all featuring Supreme and Fox Racing branding. The deflector vest has a removable back panel and an integrated buckle system, and is compatible with neck supports. An exclusive V2 helmet with a fiberglass shell and a dual density EPS liner will also be available. The helmet meets EVE 22.05 and DOT certifications, and features a ventilation system that incorporates ten intake and four exhaust vents. All of the pieces are available in three colorways: blue and neon yellow, classic Supreme red and white, and black and white. Fox Racing was founded as Moto-X Fox in Campbell, California by Geoff Fox in 1974 and started out as a European bike parts distributer before starting to manufacture its own pieces. Later, when Moto-X Fox’s professional motocross team came together, Geoff Fox handmade their colorful uniforms, which fans soon began requesting at the brand’s Campbell store. Fox Racing is now a globally recognized motocross brand best known for its vibrant racewear, a fact reflected in the Supreme collection’s impactful color palette. (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CNAoNcsr0ua/?igshid=5qt5kt3d5xgg

[futuremysteryshack]

Jekyll nuzzles back.

———

The neon blue streaks make her easy to signal out.

Hyde said, “I’ll approach just in case there’s a deflector shield.”

does she sleep a lot?“ __ may shrugs ‘i don’t care”

[invcder]

Concilliabule -diibsister

Concilliabule - A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.

            Zim despised the rain. To be fair, he detested more things on this planet than he could possibly count: the creatures were hideous, the food made him sick, and even the  A I R hurt to breathe. But more than anything else about the filthy ball of dirt, Zim hated the horrible weather known as “rain.” Falling drops of acid and that pelted him from the sky, searing his flesh making him shiver with pain and cold. He cursed the wretched weather, and the wretched planet altogether-- for certainly it was doing this on purpose with the knowledge that he would have to venture out into it. 

            A streak of lightening flashed, cutting a jagged path across the dark night sky, and his antennae shifted slightly beneath the thick lay of his pompadour wig as they sensed the impending roll of thunder vibrating through the atmosphere-- sure enough, the booming cacophony followed only a few seconds later, and Zim’s gaze narrowed in reply. Though he refused to look up toward the sound and into the poisonous rain-- he’d learned his lesson after the last time he had, and the burning liquid had fused his contact lenses to his ocular implants. Instead he simply hiked his jacket further up his shoulders and hoped to Irk that the paste wouldn’t wash away before he made it to the appointed place.  

            Personally, he would have selected somewhere more secluded than this-- horrible place. Neon lights flashed and the sounds of animated slaughter reverberated through the background-- but at least it was poorly lit. In spite of the negligible number of human pig children playing the games littered around the arcade, it would serve well enough as an indiscreet rendezvous point. 

            She greeted him with a kick to the shin-- she almost always did. Most of the humans seemed fond of “hellos” or handshakes, but she always managed to sneak up on him and make him suffer some horrendous pain as a chosen form of greeting. He was almost getting accustomed to it, though one would hardly be able to tell through his rage as he turned on her, screaming and spitting Irken curses. So much for being discreet. Eventually he calmed down... like he always did. And she ordered one of those disgusting, cheese-covered discs of garbage-- like she always did. And they talked... like the always did. For awhile they spoke about what they had intentionally begun these periodic meetings for; world domination. She gave him valuable information regarding Earth’s defenses per her Father’s lab, and he provided her Irken technology to help her endeavors, and they discussed collaborative plans for Earth’s demise. And for awhile, the spoke about things that didn’t really matter-- like what had happened at school that day, her brother’s massive whale of a head, and how boring he found the history of Irk to be. She would try to get him to sample her hellish looking Earth food, and he would adamantly refuse, much to her apparent satisfaction and amusement... sometimes he would observe her conquering another level in her virtual war simulations ( with avid skill, he might add ). And that would be that. They would go their separate ways and then barely spare one another a glance at skool the next day, lest her meddlesome sibling or any of the other filthy dirt children catch wind of their treaty.  

            ...but this time was different. Normally she wouldn’t have hesitated to simply leave as he did-- but when he moved to step out from under the awning of the grisly arcade, his skin immediately began to boil beneath the onslaught of the rain, chasing him back under the tent and backing him against the wall in frustration-- curses !! The paste had been washed away. But that wasn’t all that strange-- in fact, it wasn’t the first time it had ever happened to him on any other occasion. No... the strangest part was the way she paused to stare at him in contemplation, as if considering something... rather than just turning and leaving as she always did. His defensive stare bore into her, hackles raised and at the ready to fire a slew of insults at her should she attempt to prod at his evident weakness... but all of the hate and bile that filled him died at the tip of his tongue as she simply and silently snapped open her rain deflector and held it out to him. 

            Zim wasn’t a fool-- nothing was free, and enemies didn’t help enemies. They only helped themselves. But then... this Dib sister wasn’t his enemy, was she? She wouldn’t be helping him in his plans for world conquest if she was anything but an ally... would she? That made her a friend... but being a human. That made her a foe. She tread a very dangerous line... and so did he, he supposed, extending one hesitant claw to wrap around the hook of the umbrella, bringing it in close to him in a half conscious motion. His expression was seized with confusion and skepticism, even as she turned her back on him and abandoned the awning to make her way home in the downpour, her dark silhouette disappearing down the street and around the corner, leaving him to stare at the umbrella, befuddled by the gesture and her motives regarding it, as well as the wave of some... unfamiliar feeling that barreled into him, wracking him with shivers and trepidation. Scowling at the article of necessity in his hand, he turned and began the brisk march back to his base, roiling with detest for all things Earth; the putrid smells, the filthy establishments, the foreign and frightening emotions too much time on its wretched surface brought... and the rain. 

                                                                      He hated the rain.