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saellefanwork · 11 months ago

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Reminder: This Demon Slayer fic is rated Mature (adults only) for canon-typical violence and eventual suggestive or explicit sexual content

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Chapter 9: Lost in Time

Tamayo presents Kanoko with an offer that she can't refuse, despite the fact it will cost her everything she has left and will break the final wishes of her childhood friend. She is completely unprepared for what awaits her next.

Author Note: Chapter 2/5 of this angsty Mugen Train Arc.

Trigger warnings: body horror, character death, gruesome corpse description

"Kanoko-san, am I correct to assume that you were planning on pursuing the Third Moon, Akaza, to avenge your friend?" Tamayo inquired gently.

You took slow sips of the tea she had served you, finding solace in its calming effects. The two days of arduous travel to Osaka, a combination of frantic running and transportation, had done little to alleviate the tension that gripped you since learning of Kyojuro's demise. Nonetheless, you were accustomed to sleep deprivation and relentless efforts.

"Yes, that's correct," you finally responded, your voice weary yet resolute. "I still intend to go after him, regardless of any arguments you may present. I came here merely to see if you had something to offer that could aid me in bringing down that wretched son of a-..."

Yushiro interjected sharply, "No vulgarity in front of Tamayo-sama, you foolish girl!" You bared your teeth at him. Though you and the demon had never seen eye to eye, you usually tolerated each other out of respect for the doctor. But that day you were not in the mood to put up with him.

"Calm down, Yushiro. I can assist you, Kanoko-san, but it will come at a price."

You tilted your head slightly. She started explaining you that she was receiving the help of a Demon Slayer beside yours for her research. You were vaguely surprised to learn that the young Kamado Tanjiro was also an ally of Tamayo, and that his sister, Kamado Nezuko, had turned into a demon with unique dispositions. Then you recalled Kyojuro mentioning Tanjiro's trial for violating the Kisatsutais' code. As you thought about it, you remembered the box he carried on his back when you met him in the Butterfly Estate. That thing was emitting an eerie aura... could it be that he was concealing his sister in it?

"The blood of Nezuko-san exhibits intriguing characteristics when combined with the blood of other demons. I believe I am close to developing a poison that can specifically target and destroy Kibutsuji Muzan's cells, reverting the infected people back to their human form. As for Kibutsuji himself, a sufficient dosage might be able to kill him or at the very least significantly weaken him. However, further tests are required."

You struggled to rejoice at the news. The prospect of waiting for the researcher to complete her work before pursuing Akaza seemed impossible. Tamayo's experiments could take several decades, and by then, you would either be dead or an elderly.

"That's certainly good news," you responded simply, devoid of any emotion. "But I don't believe that's the reason you called me here."

Tamayo nodded, confirming your suspicions.

"I also possess the ability to turn humans into demons, as you are aware. Yushiro was the only individual I had successfully transformed and it took me two hundred years of effort. However, thanks to a new concoction involving my blood and Nezuko-san's, I recently succeeded in transforming Chachamaru. Within a few weeks, his transformation was complete, allowing him to accompany Tanjiro in the field without us fearing for his death. I also tested it on a dying young man a few days ago, and the results were similar. Both of them have managed to retain control over their urges and work under my guidance."

You listened to her words more attentively, your senses on high alert. Such power was incredibly dangerous. Having more demons in existence was not a good thing even if they were currently under control.

Tamayo continued her explanation, "They require less blood than Yushiro and me to sustain themselves, and they can partially replenish their energy through sleep, just like Nezuko-san. Their abilities are comparable to the demons created by Kibutsuji, I would say, meaning their strength primarily depends on the host's power at the time of transformation. That's why the Upper Moons seek to transform the Pillars, as they could become formidable demons."

"You're suggesting that I relinquish my humanity and pursue Akaza as a demon," you stated, cutting straight to the point.

"Yes," she admitted. "Turning people into demons is inherently dangerous and should not be taken lightly, even if they can maintain their human consciousness. The thirst for power and the dominance of demonic senses can easily overshadow the transformed individual's goals and morals. However, we are currently at a crucial juncture. I can sense that we are on the verge of defeating Kibutsuji, and we should utilize every possible weapon against him, even if it means employing his own methods. As for you, the potential of your Breathing style has always fascinated me. I took the liberty of utilizing a sample of your blood that you had entrusted to me for various tests. I believe that if you were to undergo the transformation into a demon, your Blood Demon Art power would be extraordinary, potentially reaching the level of an Upper Moon. It might even have the potential to alter destiny itself."

"What do you mean?" you inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Time Breathing allows the manipulation of time on a localized scale around its user. It is not merely a hypnotic technique that creates the illusion of time accelerating or decelerating. It is akin to a divine gift bestowed upon your clan long ago on the continent. I believe that as a demon, your power could manipulate time to a larger scale. You may be able to distort time and create demonic realms like other formidable demons. It is possible that you could unlock new abilities or powers tied to your abilities. Of course, there are no guarantees, but if my theories are correct, it will provide us with a significant advantage in defeating Kibutsuji and his minions."

"Very well. Let's proceed with it.".

Tamayo and Yushiro exchanged a look of mixed surprise and concern. The doctor, with a worried expression, continued, "Are you absolutely certain...? I didn't expect you to accept that deal so easily. Becoming a demon is a decision that should not be taken lightly. Unless we find a cure, you will be condemned to the night, dependent on blood to sustain yourself, and severed from the possibility to have children and grow old with your loved ones. The Demon Slayers will become your adversaries, in addition to Kibutsuji's minions."

"I don't care," you responded coldly. "I have nothing left to lose. I am prepared to do whatever it takes for revenge, and I am not naive. If the Flame Hashira fell in battle, my chances of triumphing through sheer strength are as thin as a sheet of rice paper. In our sparring matches, Kyojuro outshined me more often than in the other way round. To vanquish Akaza, or even Kibutsuji, I could use some more power. I care not if the Kisatsutai or the demon lord himself end my life, as long as I drag as many foes down to hell with me."

"I understand," your host replied with a tinge of sadness, yet her gaze also held understanding. "I would like you to rest for now. We will revisit this tomorrow. If your decision remains unwavering after a good night's sleep, then we shall proceed."

The following day, with a clear mind, your resolve remained unchanged. After undergoing a series of psychological tests, Tamayo made preparations for the transformation, securing you within a sealed and fortified chamber. As the needle that would alter your very cells neared your arm, you bitterly realized that Kyojuro's concerns prior to his departure were becoming reality. His instincts had always been sharp. He would have disapproved of your choices without a moment's hesitation, as he would have wished for you to move forward while cherishing the hope of a reunion in another life. Unfortunately, he was no longer there to dissuade you nor to pursue and eliminate you once you became a demon. Though you held his memory in high regard, your thirst for vengeance came before anything else, including his final wishes.

If fate allowed your paths to intertwine once more in another lifetime, you vowed to ask for his forgiveness then. However, that could only happen if your soul didn't end up in the purgatory for an extended duration, as it could very well be your destination in the afterlife, having willingly transformed into a monster for such an evil motivation as vengeance.

A prickling sensation followed by a spreading warmth coursed through your right arm. The fluid had permeated your body, rendering it impossible to turn back now.

The warmth gradually transformed into an intense burning that engulfed you from within, as though an invisible pyre consumed your being. Each breath became a struggle as an acidic sensation seemed to make your skin boil. Running your hand through your hair, you watched in dismay as it fell out in clumps.

Tamayo's words echoed in your mind, reminding you that the transformation would offer a glimpse of hell. But as your bones dislocated and your muscles tore apart, you realized that you may had underestimated true magnitude of what hell truly entailed.

The transformation was meant to span several days, but you lost all sense of time within the relentless torrent of suffering. The fortified chamber barely contained your violent spasms, and each of your trashing assault left bents on the walls. Thankfully, the final and longest stages of the transformation took place in a state of complete immobility, paralyzed by the excruciating pain while an internal inferno consumed you.

When you awoke from this torment, your body jolted upright, releasing a cry that mirrored that of a drowning soul resurfacing. The surroundings were cloaked in darkness and silence, broken only by your wheezing breaths and the melodic serenade of crickets. Crickets? Perplexed, you scanned the room. You were no longer confined within the cell but instead found yourself in your home in Komazawa. Could it be that the entire ordeal had been nothing more than an extended nightmare?

As you reached out to touch your forehead, the motion led to an unintentional scratch. Looking down at your hands, you were astonished to find that your nails had been replaced by razor-sharp claws, from which a few drops of blood trickled. However, the wound almost instantly closed, leaving no trace of pain behind.

Understanding the implications, you rose to your feet and made your way to the mirror. The reflection that stared back at you left you breathless. Instead of their natural colour, your hair now possessed a pale, steel-like hue, shimmering with an otherworldly glow. Fiery, slitted pupils with feline elongation replaced your familiar eyes. The sight of slightly exposed fangs, purposefully designed for killing, became apparent as your mouth gaped open. Crowning your forehead were small, menacing black horns. You had indeed become a demon.

The reality sank in, dispelling any lingering thoughts of it being a mere dream. Kyojuro's tragic demise, Tamayo's proposition... Trying not to fall apart, you attempted to regain your composure and make sense of the situation.

"Tamayo-san? Yushiro? Chachamaru?" you called out, voicing each name one after the other.

No response came. The silence was unsettling. Why had they chosen to send you back home during the demonization process? A sense of unease crept over you, urging caution. Gazing out the window, you surveyed the empty streets, but remained ever vigilant. Demon Slayers could be around, paying their regards to the Rengoku family for their loss, and the estate was in the vinicity of your place. Their keen crows could also be patroling in the sky, watchful for any signs of suspicious activity. While you were tolerated by the Kisatsutai as a demon hunter, the situation had now drastically changed.

You swiftly changed out of your night clothes, donning one of your mission attire, and equipped yourself with your trusty sword. Prepared to depart discreetly, you set forth with a resolute purpose. Your objective: to return to Tamayo and demand answers regarding her decision to leave you behind, as well as seek guidance on concealing your demonic presence from the Slayers.

Arriving in Osaka with heightened speed, way faster than your previous journey, you located Tamayo within her clandestine sanctuary. As you stepped inside, a mixture of surprise and suspicion adorned the faces of both the doctor and her companion, reflecting their astonishment at your unexpected arrival.

"Kanoko-san? What brings you here? And how did you manage to find this hidden place?" Tamayo questioned, a mix of wonder and warry evident in her voice. Her gaze was fixated on your transformed state. "I see you've become a demon now... Did Kibutsuji Muzan send you after us?"

Yushiro, sensing a potential threat, poised himself to attack, clutching one of his talismans tightly in his hand. You glared at both of them, feeling a surge of indignation.

"What is the meaning of this reception? It was the two of you who initiated the transformation! And now you treat me as if I'm working for Kibutsuji? Why did you send me back home after the demonization had started? There could be Demon Slayers lurking all around my place! I cannot remain there!"

Tamayo's brows furrowed as she admitted, "I don't understand. The last time we met was seven months ago, and you were still human. I did not turn you into a demon, although I do possess that ability now... Could it be..."

Suddenly, her eyes widened in realization.

"Kanoko-san, what day do you believe it is today?"

"I'm not sure. I was unconscious for quite some time. But the transformation began on July 8th," you responded, puzzled by the line of questioning.

"Of the year 1915?" Tamayo inquired, anticipation tingling in her voice.

"Well... Yes," you confirmed, your confusion deepening.

"Today is July 4th, 1915. According to your account, we would have injected the demon substance into you in four days. It's possible... that your Blood Demon Art enables you to time travel."

"What?!" you exclaimed, disbelief etched across your face.

"It would explain a lot. Your Time Breathing abilities already bend the laws of physics. When combined with your Blood Demon Art, it could very well transport yourself through time. I assume you haven't yet mastered this ability, otherwise, you wouldn't be so astounded."

Something suddenly clicked within you.

"But wait... if it's July 4th. Kyojuro is still alive! He's not supposed to die until dawn on July 5th during his mission on the Mugen Train!"

"Oh...?" Tamayo contemplated your words. "That must be where Chachamaru went as well, accompanying Tanjiro-san... I am guessing it was your friend's death that pushed you to accept the transformation. It's fortutate that you came to us first. Here, take this talisman." She handed you one of Yushiro's creations. "It will shield you from detection by most Demon Slayers, although it may not be effective against a Pillar or a Slayer with heightened senses if you get too close. It should, however, protect you from many troubles. Additionally, you'll need to learn how to conceal your demonic features, such as your claws, fangs, and horns."

"But I don't have time anymore! I need to go and help him!"

"The sun is about to rise, and you'll have to wait until dusk. Stay here for now, and in the meantime, we will teach you the essentials."

Driven by an unwavering sense of urgency, you absorbed the teachings from Tamayo and Yushiro with remarkable speed, refusing to rest throughout the night. Your gaze remained fixed on the clock, eagerly anticipating the moment when sunset would grant you the freedom to act.

As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, you burst out of the doctor's hidden location and sprinted towards the train station where Kyojuro was sent at the beginning of his mission. Despite your newfound demonic speed and endurance, the journey to the distant place proved time-consuming. Your heart pounded in your chest, fueled by anxiety and adrenaline.

Upon reaching the first station, you realized that you lack precise information about which train line was involved in the mysterious disappearances. However, fortune favored you as you encounter a bento vendor who was saved by the Hashira from the clutches of a demon. The girl provided you with invaluable details, pointing you in the direction of the correct line.

Racing along the railway tracks at breakneck speed, you pushed yourself to the limit. But despite your best efforts, the battle has already concluded by the time you arrive at the scene. Kyojuro kneeled motionless in the center of a crimson pool. His posture and the devastated expressions of his three subordinates revealed the grim truth—you have arrived too late.

Tanjiro, ever vigilant, smelled your presence just moments before you step into view.

"Who... who are you?" he asked, abruptly wiping away his tears and rising to his feet.

"Kyojuro... is he...?" Your voice trailed off, unable to bear speaking the dreaded words, the weight of their meaning pressing heavily upon you.

"Yes... Rengoku-san is dead..." Tanjiro confirmed, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Are you Nagase Kanoko...? He left a message for you..."

His words hung in the air, but before he could continue, he fell silent, struck by astonishment. Grief and anguish had caused you to lose control of your appearance once more. Your claws, fangs, and horns had resurfaced, a visual testament of your demonic nature. Tears blurred your vision, reducing everything to the silhouette of your childhood friend's lifeless body, while the sound of blood rushing in your ears drowned out the cries and commotion surrounding you.

"AAAAAAAHHH! ANOTHER DEMON!! THE STRONG GUY IS DEAD WE ARE SCREWED!" the boy with yellow hair screamed.

"Don't attack her!" Tanjiro ordered, swiftly stepping in front of his two companions. "I sense no ill intentions!"

Lost in the depths of despair, you barely registered their words. All the sacrifices, all the power you gained, now felt meaningless. Kyojuro was still gone, and Akasa still lived. The urge to pursue him and seek revenge tugged at your consciousness, but the sight before you drained every ounce of strength from your weary body. Collapsing onto the ground, you curled up in front of Kyojuro, his serene face giving the illusion that he could awaken at any moment. But in the sight of the devastating injuries, the wreckage of his once vital organs spilled on the ground, the gruesome reality was impossible to ignore and left no place for hope. Holding him close and feeling his warmth slowly fading, you wept uncontrollably, your sorrow shaking you to your core.

As the sun began its ascent, Tanjiro urged you to run away and find shelter, trying to shield you with his haori. But the weight of your grief immobilized you. The first rays of sunlight passed over the train's lifeless form, and you cried from the searing pain of your burning skin, feeling as though you were thrown in a fire. In a moment of anguish, you clenched your fists and pierced your own palms, your arms still embracing Kyojuro's body.

"Nagase-san!" Tanjiro exclaimed, and it was the last thing you could hear before everything blacked out.

"I love you, Kanoko..."

Those were the words Kyojuro had whispered in your ear as you had drifted off to sleep against him. How had you overlooked them? For some inexplicable reason, those words echoed in your mind as if offering solace in the face of your impending demise. You had never had the chance to respond to him...

Your eyelids tightly shut, you braced yourself for the endless pain that awaited for you in the afterlife. But nothing happenned. The burning sensation didn't consume you anymore. Silence envelopped you. Tentatively, you opened your eyes and realized that you were back in your own room. You were lying in your bed, the moon rising high in the sky outside the window. The streets appeared deserted, devoid of life.

Slowly sitting up, your breath heavy and labored, you took in your surroundings. Your skin showed signs of severe burns, slowly regenerating, while fatigue and hunger weigh heavily upon you after the ordeals of the past days. Disoriented and struggling to gather your thoughts, you managed to focus enough to glance at your calendar...

—It was the night of July 4th again.

Timeline: Kanoko wakes up in the night of July 3rd after the transformation. She arrives in July the 4th in the morning in Osaka, after traveling all night. Then she wakes up at her place again on the night of July 4th after she has burned (so she wakes up later than her first time travel). Kyojuro dies at the dawn of July 5th in this story.

Modern Era Secret: The exact date of Kyojuro's death is not revealed in the manga/anime (I mean we don't even know in which year the story takes place, except that it is in Taisho era). However, based on some fans' tentative timeline of the story, it appears to have taken place during the summer.

In Japan, a six-day cycle called rokuyo used to be followed alongside the seven-day week. Each day of the rokuyo cycle was believed to bring either good or bad luck. Butsumetsu is considered the most inauspicious day of the cycle, as it is associated with the death of Buddha. These rokuyo indications can still be found on some modern calendars in Japan.

For storytelling purposes, I have chosen to set the date of the Mugen Train tragedy at the dawn of July 5th, 1915. This particular date falls on a Tuesday (Kayōbi 火曜日) and is also a Butsumetsu (仏滅). Since Tuesdays are represented by the kanji for fire 火, it seemed fitting to choose a Tuesday of Butsumetsu as the day for the demise of the Flame Hashira :')

Next Chapter: "No matter what it takes."

#rengoku x reader #rengoku x oc #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oc #reader insert #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #mugen train #time travel #fix it fic #akaza #kny akaza #demon slayer akaza

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techgizmohub · 1 year ago

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Trusted Reviews: A Comprehensive Review of the TicWatch Pro 5 - Tech Gizmo Hub

Verdict

A great smartwatch that’s easy to recommend to most people, the TicWatch Pro 5 excels in battery life and fast charging while its hassle-free Wear OS experience feels great to use on a daily basis.

Pros

- Outstanding battery life - Wear OS 3 is finally on a TicWatch - Fast charging - The secondary FSTN display is always welcome

Cons

- Not the most stylish of smartwatches - Included watch faces are hit and miss - No Google Assistant - Up to 80-hours of battery life:Extend this with Essential Mode - FSTN Display:Secondary screen sits above the AMOLED panel - Updated design:New rotating crown and push button

Introduction

After a notable hiatus, Mobvoi has come back to the smartwatch market with the impressive and thoughtful TicWatch Pro 5. TicWatch wearables have been something of a mixed bag. I have to give parent company Mobvoi some credit for keeping the Wear OS dream alive with a steady output of devices over the years, and I’ve genuinely enjoyed some of the features that they’ve brought to market, including the additional FSTN display last seen on the TicWatch Pro 3 Ultra. However, Mobvoi is also responsible for some significant low points in the Wear OS saga, including the best forgotten TicWatch C2 Plus, and that’s before mentioning that the company’s most recent wearables still haven’t received that long promised Wear OS 3 update, which is particularly embarrassing given that, at the time of this review, Wear OS 4 is on the horizon. Potentially as a result of this identity crisis, Mobvoi has taken over a year off to develop its next-gen wearable which has skipped the number 4 entirely, opting instead to be known as the TicWatch Pro 5. After spending several weeks with the device, I can say that that extra time at the drawing board has paid off with Mobvoi putting together one of the best Wear OS watches to date.

Image Credit (Trusted Reviews)

Design and screen

- Embodies TicWatch’s usual industrial aesthetic - New rotating crown and push button - FSTN display is great for outdoor useIf there’s one thing that hasn’t seen a major upgrade, it’s the design of the TicWatch Pro 5. Given that, at first glance, it looks identical to the TicWatch Pro 3 Ultra, anyone who’s had any experience with the TicWatch line will know exactly what to expect here. Between the silicone watch strap and the chassis, the Pro 5 jumps between deep blacks and darker greys which makes it feel less like an eye-catching fashion accessory and more like a smartwatch that’s been designed to blend in with Batman’s suit of armour. It won’t be for everyone, but I don’t mind it too much, particularly as I don’t expect much else from Mobvoi in this department. The only place where you’ll find even a splash of colour is in the button layout which has been changed this time around to feel a lot more like the Pixel Watch. On the upper-right hand side you have a textured push button that can show you your most recent apps with one press, while two presses will pull up the Google Wallet. Just below that button you’ll find the new rotating crown, which not only works well when scrolling through menus and options, but it also bears a red ring that feels as if it’s been poached directly off the Apple Watch. It’s one of those rare moments when a company appears to wear its aspirations on its sleeve, or rather, I am.

Image Credit (Trusted Reviews)The trade-off for the largely uninspiring design is that the TicWatch Pro 5 boasts military-grade durability, as well as water resistance up to 5ATM (50 metres). I’ve accidentally knocked the Pro 5 several times over the course of this review, but there are no noticeable marks to be found anywhere. It’s a sturdy device and one that I would have no qualms with taking on a hike or a camping trip. The TicWatch Pro 5 has a slightly bigger screen than its predecessor, toting a 1.43-inch AMOLED display (over the 1.4-inch variant on the Pro 3 Ultra), and for the most part, it’s excellent. The screen is large enough that I never found any bits of text difficult to read, and it was even hassle-free to use the onscreen keyboard when necessary. The screen isn’t the brightest when viewed outdoors, definitely not against the likes of the Apple Watch Ultra, but the Pro 5 has a returning feature that is still an absolute ace in the hole: a secondary FSTN display. This low-power display sits atop the AMOLED panel and displays key metrics like the time, your step count and heart rate, all while being super easy to read outdoors. The backlight also makes a return in case you want to look at this secondary display in darker environments. One major upgrade to the FSTN display is that it will now project a different backlight colour to correspond with your heart rate zone during a workout, so you can immediately gauge your performance without needing to dive into any menus, similar to the Myzone MZ-Switch. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again – the FSTN display is such a killer idea that I don’t know why other companies won’t implement something similar into their wearables, particularly as Mobvoi continues to expand its capabilities with each new watch.

Image Credit (Trusted Reviews)

Features and performance

- Wear OS 3 finally comes to a TicWatch - First watch to use the Snapdragon W5 Plus Gen 1 chipset - Great overall performanceWith the TicWatch Pro 5, Mobvoi is finally able to embrace Wear OS 3 for the first time, and while it’s absurdly late to the party (the Galaxy Watch 4 was the first to market with the software back in 2021), it’s still great to see the pairing nonetheless. The UI is very similar to what you’ll experience on the Pixel Watch, and that’s to say that Wear OS 3 is much nicer to use than its predecessor. Unlike previous TicWatches, the Pro 5 doesn’t immediately feel out of date as soon as you take it out of the box. What helps to solidify this feeling is the fact that the Pro 5 is the first smartwatch anywhere to feature the new Snapdragon W5 Plus Gen 1 chipset. Mobvoi claims that the performance is 2x faster than that of the previous Snapdragon Wear 4100 Plus, and while that’s tricky to quantify precisely on a smartwatch, I will say that the TicWatch Pro 5 is impressively smooth during everyday use. Jumping between menus and apps isn’t quite as fast as what you’ll find on the Apple Watch, but against other Wear OS devices, the TicWatch Pro 5 is definitely among the fastest out there. It all goes a long way towards making the Pro 5 feel like a smartwatch that I actually want to use regularly, instead of something that is only a temporary placeholder until I return to my Apple Watch. With that said, however, the TicWatch Pro 5 doesn’t work with iPhones unfortunately, so iOS users will miss out here.

Image Credit (Trusted Reviews)The internal storage has also seen a bump from 8GB to 32GB, which is great if you like to store playlists from Spotify or YouTube Music locally for offline playback during a workout. The selection of included watch faces is a little hit and miss – the majority are too rigid and complication heavy for my liking, but you do have an abundance of alternatives available via the Google Play store (I’m currently using the Concentric watch face that mimics the one found on the Pixel Watch). When you’re away from your phone, the TicWatch Pro 5 is capable of connecting to all five of the major satellite services independently, which is great if you want to track an outdoor walk or run. I found the wait time to connect to be respectable, at an average of seven seconds, and while the actual route tracking largely does a decent job of showing where you’ve been after the fact, it’s far from best in class. At one point the TicWatch seemed to think that I had taken a quick dip in the Thames while out on a lunchtime walk through London’s Southbank. One glaring omission from the TicWatch’s bag of tricks is the Google Assistant. Admittedly, this issue seems to stem from Google as part of a wider Wear OS issue, and even with the Samsung Galaxy Watch 5, there are several steps you need to take to get Google Assistant up and running – but for the TicWatch Pro 5, it’s nowhere to be seen. Because of how much the TicWatch gets right, it’s not the worst thing, but it definitely meant that I was reaching for my phone when I wanted to set a few quick timers while cooking.

Fitness tracking

- Tons of tracking options via TicExercise - Outstanding HRM accuracy - Sleep tracking could use a little workBecause of its high-level of durability, the TicWatch Pro 5 naturally lends itself to being a reliable fitness tracker on paper, and Mobvoi has made sure to capitalise on this with its suite of in-built fitness apps.

Image Credit (Trusted Reviews)For starters, the TicExercise app, which lets you select which workout type you want to track, has a ridiculous number of options. From cardio to weightlifting, I’ve yet to find a noticeable gap in TicExercise’s options, so you’ll be more than covered on that front. Automatic workout tracking has been exceptional throughout the test period, and the TicWatch has even picked up on my morning walk to the station more consistently than my Apple Watch. There’s also a pared-down version of Samsung’s BioActive sensor labelled ‘One-tap measurement’ but while the former offered up some surprisingly detailed stats, including your BMI and body water levels, the later is focused on just your heart health by analysing your heart rate, blood oxygen, respiratory rate and stress levels simultaneously. Still, it’s a handy tool to have during stressful moments of the day, as it can help you to keep a closer eye on how day-to-day stress might be affecting your heart. If you want a more detailed look at all that information and more however, there is the Mobvoi Health app. Despite the fact that it could probably be made to look a little sleeker, it still manages to offer up plenty of insight post-workout and it does a good job of explaining what all of its fitness jargon actually means with well-written definitions. When paired against the Myzone MZ-Switch as a dedicated chest-worn heart rate tracker, the TicWatch Pro 5 handled itself surprisingly well. During an hour-long session on an elliptical machine, the Pro 5 handed back the exact same peak and average heart rate recorded by the MZ-Switch. It was a similar story on the cycling machine, this time with only a discrepancy of 1 BPM at the peak heart rate, which again is quite impressive and I’d have no issues with relying on the TicWatch Pro 5 for heart rate accuracy. Read the full article

#Comprehensive #Gizmo #Hub #Pro #Review #Reviews #tech #TicWatch #Trusted

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writingwithcolor · 3 years ago

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Black characters with white hair: the “Special Snowflake” Compilation

Is it problematic to give my Black MC white hair?

@roseoholic asked:

Is it problematic to give my black mc white hair? In my story, if someone dies and comes back to life, their hair turns white. Her origin is that she's a reincarnation of an escaped soul, and took the place of the stillborn fetus in her "mothers" womb. I am pretty flexible in her design still, so I am willing to change if it's a bad idea. Thank you if you answer! :)

I think we’re all aware that Black people can have white hair naturally, whether it’s due to

Aging

Hair that turns gray/white early in life

Albinism

Genetics - Black person (mixed race or no) who have very light or white hair.

Obviously, Black people can dye their hair white as well.

Photo above: Black models Diandra forrest and Nyakim Gatwech posing. They both have pale blondish-white hair. Source: Essence.

The question being asked is if it’s okay for Black characters to have white hair by conscious choice of the author.

Answer:

On its face, it’s okay to have Black characters with white hair. This is especially true if how the white hair comes about is a natural occurrence in your story that likely affects other races too. Motive is an important factor.

What is the reason for their hair being white?

That reason could and should be everything but to make them seem special or more likeable. This isn’t aimed at you specifically, OP, but there are creators who feel compelled to give Black characters uncommon, rare or unusual features due to an aversion to feature Black people with more common features (dark and brown hair, skin, eyes etc).

When aversion to Blackness is the motive, it shows.

It’s in the way the narrative exalts this character over other Black people in the narrative, treating them more favorably and giving them more of an arc over other Black characters. This is sometimes known as making them a “Special snowflake” which isn’t a term I particularly love, as it’s sometimes used to devalue real struggles people face. However, It does serve to categorize the trope. (See: TVTropes Special Snowflake)

Signs you’re treating your white-haired Black character better over other Black characters, aka the “Special Snowflake”

Stronger characterization and arc, more importance and “Screen time” than other Black characters (even when they’re not the main character)

Unique features are overemphasized and described at every chance (fetishized)

Better treatment in the story compared to other Black characters. They’re also less likely to face suffering and abusive narratives. Good things happen to them more than other Black people.

Shown to be more deserving of love, affection and romance over other Black characters; may have a love interest while others don’t.

Takeaway:

You can have Black characters with white hair. However, do not use light or unique features to exalt or set your character apart from your Black characters as “better.”

That is, not without an explicit social commentary, since yes these folks tend to be treated better by society and media in real life.

It also helps to have other Black characters with more common features who are treated well and have a fully developed character arc. These other Black people’s lives also should not revolve around just supporting white or the white-haired character, either.

Black Girl, Snow White Retellings

@morganadelacour asked:

Hi there,

I (a white woman) would like to write a re-telling of Snow White and make her a Black girl with white hair. Snow White would be under the impression, that her stepmother (a white woman) is evil, when in fact, she only tried to protect herself and Snow White from Snow White’s father (a white man). The story would be told from both perspectives, probably first from Snow White’s perspective, then from the queen’s. In the end, both women make peace, Snow White understands the queen’s actions and the queen apologizes and tries to make up for her actions that hurt Snow White. Do you see a problem with any aspect of this outline and/or are there certain things I have to keep in mind?

Thank you so much for all the work you do with this blog and for your efforts to educate.

@corbeaudelys asked:

I'm writing a science fiction variant of Snow White with a protagonist that has dark skin with white, 3C hair and brown eyes. I read a post that said magic white hair, dark skin, and European features was a bad trope; would it still be bad even if I made it clear that she has no European features and her hair's not magical?

See “Is it problematic to give my Black MC white hair?” which answers the core of this question. Motive truly is the main factor in if it’s okay or not, and the resulting treatment of that character and other Black characters that may exist in the story. I have a Black Snow White in one of my retellings, too!

The motive is clear here: you’re retelling Snow White with a Black girl and want to keep it relevant by assigning the white feature to hair instead of skin. It’s also a story where Snow White is intentionally meant to stand out as the “fairest of them all” so the exalting does have plot relevance.

As noted before, I would caution against making her beautiful to mean that other Black women are not beautiful or are unworthy.

I would like to make special mention that you can also do retellings where Snow White goes the other direction, and her compelling dark features make her the “fairest of them all”

Black woman dyes hair white, problematic symbolism?

@tlking-heads-moved said:

hi! i have a story with two black women protagonists:

1.) leader, strong and loyal, with very curly dark hair (usually pulled back)

2.) part of the group, elegant and refined, with light pink braids (or other protective styles).

Towards the end of the story, both of their hair changes styles, the second character dyes her hair white.

I am afraid that the character with the styled, pink/white hair will come off as “purer” or “better” than the character with the natural, dark hair, because of their personality + appearance differences. should I change either of their usual hair styles or their personalities?

These seem like stylistic choices. As the girl already had a pink braided style, hair color changes seems like something she likes to do and does not have to be symbolic of anything. Your use of color throughout the story could help avoid implications of white as more pure, if this is something you’d like to avoid:

See more about Color symbolism in our Color Symbolism Guide

Also, going from pink to white, which both have connotations of femininity and softness (according to a Western Lens) doesn’t come across as a stark difference. Without knowing the full details of these personality changes the girls undergo, I’m personally not getting that impression. Again, the full narrative will inform this and you may want to pay mind to your use of color throughout.

Now, do avoid making the dark-haired one a Strong Black Women character. You specifically called her strong, which doesn’t necessarily mean she’s a SBW, but please see our several related posts to ensure she is not one.

I hope this helps!

~Mod Colette

#Black #Black women #Black men #special snowflake #Black stereotypes #tropes #asks #tw stillborn #color symbolism #black vs white #guides #Black hair

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nabrizoya · 3 years ago

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honestly would LOVE to hear your thoughts on the nikolai duology because i really only see blanket praise or blanket hate for it whereas I see a lot of wasted potential. Bardugo's actual writing was beautiful as ever for the most part, but the choice of the plot/beats feels baffling to me. I love Nina, but her parts felt so separate from the rest of the book until the very end, and even that felt off. I liked the first 2/3 of KoS enough, dealing with the monster, political tensions, 1/2

and even the cult of the starless saint was at least interesting because dealing with people trying to rewrite the narrative of their greatest enemy (who hurt these young leaders in deeply PERSONAL ways) was really compelling (making him literally come back was. a choice) but I feel like somewhere in the last third, KoS went in a wholly differeent direction, and RoW has this vibe of feeling like she definitely wrote it after reading the show scripts or even seeing some footage. idk. 2/2

I will try to be brief (1/12)

Hey anon! Thank you so much for asking this even though it took 38756588247834 years to answer this I’m so sorry !! The Nikolai duology was good—wonderful too maybe because of the myriad of themes and topics it discussed and explored, all in addition to how beloved these characters are. For me, it’s the end of KoS as it is for you, and the entirety of RoW in particular that irk me the most.

I have very little issue with KoS, and I agree with everything you’ve said. The political tensions, the sort of urgency in trying to secure a country at the cost of personal reservations, preparing for a war that seems unforgivably near the door, etc. was all thrilling. After all, it is the first installment in the duology, and it’s supposed to set the course for the upcoming books.

KoS managed to introduce the stakes and the circumstances, lay the rails for what the characters will face and what it might mean to a vast set of entities connected to the events. And it’s hardly out of sense to expect Rule of Wolves to pick up where the previous book left off and carry forward the themes and plot points introduced in the first book.

Except, RoW failed spectacularly in that aspect.

Rule of Wolves: the second book, and the supposed finale to the Grishaverse and the Nikolai duology; it fails to continue the other number of threads that KoS set up for it, effectively compromising the characters, their characterizations, the themes and other political tensions and stakes. The due importance that should be given to the heavy set of topics that get brought up in the povs are not through, nor are the small details that Leigh added to the conversations evolve into something worth talking about, which are the actual points that could have been given some more page time to explore than just making them facts or points of nostalgia for the characters.

If you take a step back and analyze the whole timeline, events, characterization, objectives of the arcs and the plot points etc. etc., all the way from Crooked Kingdom to Rule of Wolves, there’s so much that is left out and tied in, quite haphazardly, which leads me to believe that Leigh wanted to attempt writing a duology that is more plot-driven than it is character driven. And we know that Leigh writes character driven stories brilliantly, and SoC, CK and TLoT are testament to the same. Heck, even TGT has more consistency than whatever TND has.

So, objectively? Plot possibilities? Characterization? Potential? Personal goals? Addressing the very serious themes it brought up, in little or major light, but give no proper elaboration about them?

The lost potential readily compromised the characterizations of many characters, and it all amounted to their arcs being very underwhelming.

I’m dividing this into four parts and here’s the basic outline.

Writing and Plotting

The Plot, Possibilities and Potential.

Characters, Characterization, Character Potential.

Remedy (what I think would've worked better to tie this all up)

This can get very looong, so be forewarned.

I. Writing & Plotting

Now, Leigh Bardugo’s writing is exceptional, no doubt. The sentences are short and flowy, and convey the tone, psyche, environment and the setting and its effects on the pov character marvellously. It's also immersive. It’s the same in Rule of Wolves, except, a little or a lot weaker.

The two main parts of this is that one, that Leigh slightly overdid showing a lot more than telling, and two, that the RoW (and perhaps KoS too), was more plot driven than character driven, the latter of which is actually Leigh’s strength.

In Rule of Wolves, Leigh’s writing seemed very choppy and snappish. The descriptions were lacking, or maybe that’s just me wishing for more internal conflict and dilemma, and going back and forth in one's own head for a bit. It felt like she showed more than she told.

Example being how Zoya ‘snaps’, ‘drawls’, ‘scoffs’, or ‘scowls’ less, and even if that’s supposed to be show Zoya beginning to be a little less unpleasant than she usually is, the tone in those chapters was not strong enough to distinguish how and why the character was acting a certain way. Nor pinpoint an explanation on what brought that change about. (And there were many instances like this with many other characters), which resulted in the characters themselves feeling so off to me.

Leigh’s characters are important to the story. They carry tremendous weight and actively contribute to the plot. Except, by focusing a lot more on the plot, some parts of these characters’ relevance was not up to the mark. It is greatly due to how weak the plotting and pacing of the book was, tbh, more than just her writing.

Consider: Mayu Kir Kaat. She is integral to the story, but she is thrust into responsibilities, and that doesn’t give us much time to see her as a person, and then as a person with a duty, like we see with most other characters. Whatever parts of her we did see were very circumstantial and timed, which is probably the reason why not many we’re unable to appreciate Mayu as much as we should. (Maybe fandom racism also plays a part, so, well,,,).

Like, we know from Six of Crows and with The Language of Thorns, how great care went into describing the characters’ state of mind, which further heavily influenced their choices and decisions. This time though, I think she wanted it to be more plot driven, hence the whole crowded feeling of the book and general worry about oh my god too much is happening, how will all this be solved and all that.

And this, I think, greatly hampered Leigh's writing, leading to unsettling and rather unsatisfying character arcs. Not to mention that there was quite little space given for the characters to develop or let them grow in a satisfying way which touches on most of the elements and themes that get brought up with regard to their powers and potential,,, and when it was indeed brought up, it was all in vain since they were never followed through.

That's one of the biggest problems for me in RoW: Plot points brought up in KoS were not brought forward in RoW.

II. The Plot, Possibilities and Potential.

Phew. Truly buckle up because this train has too many coaches. And to discuss them all, let’s keep the starting point as Crooked Kingdom.

a) Parem

Now, by the end of Crooked Kingdom, we know some important things about the parem.

It's dangerous asf for the Grisha who have to sacrifice their will and capabilities for a short time superpower high that they didn’t even ask for

Which means they are more often than not forced to consume the drug

Shu Han is the creator of the Parem and are also creating a new kind of soldiers called Khergud (who additionally require Ruthenium, but we’ll talk abt that later)

Fjerda snatched the formula after kidnapping Bo Yul-Bayur, keeping him away in the Ice Court and in their possession, and used the Parem to further their own heedlessly heinous agenda

I think it’s easy to understand how KoS started off on the right track, considering that Kuwei Yul Bo is mentioned, the antidote and jurda is brought up and so come the political tensions alongside it (what with the impending war, the demon, the lack of funds in the coffers and security and peace for the country alongside safety for the Grisha).

The point is, parem is a character of its own. CK was its inception, and its fate was decreed along with its lifespan and its doom. Ideally, by the end of RoW, parem should have been vanquished while addressing its nature as a deadly drug, the addiction and aftermath, and the key person who will guide the plot: Kuwei Yul Bo.

Parem is a political tool that pitted countries against each other, making one another their allies or enemies. (Though parem is not the only one factor). Ravka doesn’t yet know about Kerch’s neutrality. The Shu made their move to assassinate in the end, just as Fjerda cleared the air about their goals.

Point is, parem is weapon, a new kind of warfare that keeps getting alluded to in KoS. The first book gave a glimpse of how the Shu and Fjerda are using parem, thereby exploiting, prejudicing etc. the Grisha in their countries. Khergud whose humanity is washed away with parem + ruthenium, and the Fjerdan Grisha (are targeted) drugged and exploited while be subjected to torture, training and imminent death, parametres of these outcomes being severely gendered.

Ravka too wanted to weaponize it and create a usable strain that would still give the Grisha their powers but at a minimal cost, until Nikolai’s conversation with Grigori convinces him out of it and to use only the antidote for the Grisha.

And when are the contents of this conversation brought up again?

Never.

Another aspect of parem (that the conversation also covers) is this: that what was once merzost, parem is its strange cousin. Parem parallels breaking the bounds of Grisha norms unnaturally, while merzost takes it a step further to break the bounds of nature itself, which comes with a heavy price. They're both the same with little differences. Amplifiers are in tune with this discussion, hence the conversation between Zoya and Nikolai about how, and whether or not the abomination in him, the parem, and the amplifiers are tied together. This gets brought up again in the conversation with Grigori.

Parem parallels the superpowers, something that Zoya too manages to achieve once the corruption of the amplifier business is resolved, which makes her realize how in tune with nature the Grisha must be, and how limited the Grisha powers until then had been. And why the amplifiers were a corrupted piece of magic.

Zoya was supposed to be the conduit in that sense that she reversed the Grisha norms and understood the importance and nature of small science. This is alongisde parem getting abolished or resolved in the least, be given a redressal.

Yet instead in RoW, we barely see any of Zoya’s powers, nor even her experimentation and hunger for power which would give her protection. We don't see how she begins to realize that while power was indeed protection, it was also a responsibility. Not clearly, anyway.

So like, not only is this entire discussion thrown away in Rule of Wolves, but no matters are resolved either. Parem did not reach its end like it was supposed to. Merzost with regard to parem would have been an excellent thing to address, with or without the Darkling being present, because the blight is there. But that doesn’t happen.

What happens instead? We get one chapter of Grisha getting the antidote during the face off at the start of the book, the women in Fjerda are not brought up again and instead we jump to Shu Han. Kuwei is also conveniently forgotten because hey, the Zemeni are here so it’s all sorted!

RoW could have (should have actually) sought to address both the political and medical (?) aftermath and implications. Maybe it did succeed in showing the political side of it, with regard to Mayu, Ehri, Makhi and Tamar’s storylines. But that’s only in Shu Han, whose state of affairs we had NO idea of until RoW. No idea, so much that it was completely out of the blue.

And what we did know (get to know about in KoS) is Fjerda and the affairs there remained… unsolved.

(...sorry).

b) Grisha Powers

Re: From the conversation between Nikolai and Grigori, and Juris and Zoya, about how parem and the amplifiers are parallel to each other in terms of being abominations, a corruption of Grisha powers. Now the theory of it is not entirely explained, but we do know that the parem and whatever Zoya learnt from Juris was meant to move along in the same direction.

But we don't see another mention of it, except maybe we could dig a little deeper and realize that it all adds up because Zoya is the Grisha Queen of Ravka, Summoner, Soldier, Saint, all of it rushed and unnecessarily magical in a war so dire and realistic in RoW.

Welp.

c) Spy business

Just… genuinely what even was Nina up to in RoW? A spy, sure, but only to garner information on the pretender?

Why couldn’t there have been two responsibilities for her to uncover: the lies or truths about the pretender while the Apparat causes hindrances, and Nina trying to seek out more documents of the locations and labs where the Grisha women are being tormented and the other Grisha being weaponized? It could have been a leverage to discredit Fjerda in front of everybody in the Os Kervo scene. Imagine if Nina whipped out the documents of Grisha labs and brought the truth of the exploitation and killing and kidnapping etc. in front of the convention of all nations. All of it together would have upped the political tensions by quite the notch.

Even then, there’s a possibility that it wouldn’t matter either because the Grisha aren’t exactly valuable to all the nations. But killing and exploiting is still wrong so maybe it might have worked? Or see, even if it wouldn’t have, the slow and sluggish realization of Mila’s identity by Brum, and alongside writing it as a tragedy where Nina’s efforts seem to have gone to waste, or where Nina is telling Zoya about not accounting for Prince Rasmus’ word and she informs her about the documents she has snatched? Something could have been done here?

The point is, KoS focused on Fjerda and its unraveling, and it wasn’t continued with and through in Rule of Wolves. Instead it sought to find the problem in a whole new country, Shu Han, and fixed it within the same book leaving the other country as it is.

d) Ruthenium and the Blight

Ruthenium, the metal that is an alloy of regular metal and Grisha made steel, could have been utilized more significantly in the books.

I mention it in association with the blight because while on one hand it is true that the blight is an area full of nothingness, ruthenium as a metal could have been utilized to show the effects of rushed industrialization that is leading to the ground losing its essence. This is supposed to be advanced warfare after all. Besides, Makhi loses someone very dear to her. Perhaps ruthenium is more dangerous in Shu Han because the Shu use it to create the khergud, so the constant manufacturing of it has been leading to the metal leeching the lands of their fertility, along with the blight.

And so also to broker peace, Ravka could have provided aid in some ways. :

1) The Darkling sacrificed himself, as a result of which the blight vanishes. While the blight took away her niece, the possibility of a blight persisting despite the ending of RoW could be attributed to ruthenium.

2) Ravka could provide the reversing effect to the alloy of ruthenium and metal using Grisha and otkazt’sya engineering and ingenuity to replenish the lands.

All in addition to whatever will be Shu Han’s policies to bring lushness to their lands.

e) Women and War:

Holy fucking Shit, where do I start with this?

Whatever we saw in Fjerda was haunting, and we see it from Nina’s chapters. There’s literally no resolution for it, nor is it ever brought up again, at all. In Zoya’s chapters, we see through her eyes the brunt that Grisha faced with the war, and in a country that has refused to recognize Grisha as the citizens and considers them expendable.

Add to it her own narrative of how the women are never mentioned, let alone the ones that she has lost or has known to suffer, at the hands of the war, at the Darkling's torture and powers. The description of these women suffering, often being forgotten and thrown aside as mere casualties… where or when was it ever going to be brought up again?

Like, switching between such horrifying things happening in Fjerda to whatever was happening with Zoya and Nikolai and Isaak is such a contrast, horrifyingly demeaning and insulting, even more so when it failed to align with the importance of parem and offer a solution to both these problems.

Now switch to Rule of Wolves, where the Tavgahard women immolate themselves on Queen Makhi’s orders. Not only is that such a cheap and insensitive thing to do, it gets treated a simple fucking plot point in the book, and it barely gets addressed afterwards. Women in Asia have a vastly complex and complicated history with fire, and this is a serious criticism that culturally affects readers in personal ways. And what gets done about it? Fine, Zoya feels baaaad, sorry oops why would the women do that?!?!?

Where is the adequate sensitivity to the topic? Where is the continuation of the pain Zoya feels for many people, despite them being the enemy? How does she honour them? Where is all that dilemma and pain? Why does she not think of them or just get a line or two to talk about them?

Where is the due importance for this suffering given? Structurally and culturally?

f) Soldier, Summoner, Saint / Yaromir the Great

We never really get any explanation for why Zoya deserves to be the Queen, and why she is the best. But we do get to see why Nikolai isn’t the one supposed to be on the throne, and it’s not just because of his parentage but also because of his failings and doubts and the need for acceptance with the secrets he carried.

Here's the thing though; it’s not just about her showing mercy. It’s very subtle, and in good sense, should actually have been given a little bit more importance that be loosely brought up at random times.

Keeping aside the fact that Zoya is representative of Ravka—a woman, a Grisha, a Suli girl who changed the course of war and who knew what it was like living in poverty, being as an underprivileged person of the society in addition to the trauma from then and the state of living at her aunt’s place—which is meant to be covertly apparent, the other reason tracks back to Yaromir the First, who with the help of Sankt Feliks of the Apple Boughs—the one who raised the thornwood—lead Ravka at that time into the age of peace.

The Darkling testified that in his POVs, that while Feliks and Yaromir worked in tandem for Ravka, Aleksander worked for safeguarding the Grisha. In one sense, Zoya is supposed to reflect that moment in history in the present moment, except she is Queen and Sankta, and Grisha, all three at once.

It is brought up in one of the Darkling’s POVs and once in the conversation with Yuri in KoS. Other than that, we never actually get any more hints of this explanation in the text, which is the reason why the entire ending felt so so rushed, and like a fever dream, that even if it was a plot twist, it was kinda very baseless when it should have been more ohhhhh sort of a thing.

g) The Starless Cult and Saint Worship

This cult had immense potential to blossom into many things, some of which were indeed touched upon in KoS when Zoya says that she saw a bit of herself in Yuri, and brings up time and again how easily she’d been led and had not been aware enough of what’s right and wrong, just as she supposes Yuri is too. And to some extent, there is truth there, because in the Lives of Saints, we do see why Yrui comes about to hail the Darkling and how it parallels Zoya’s, of being helpless and ten being saved by a different power/ their own power, respectively.

That’s where it forks, that Zoya is older and realizes the path that Yuri has chosen and understands that it won't happen until he realizes it himself because the Darkling’s crimes are so obvious.

Even then, there’s still more potential: This cult could have been the mirror that would make Zoya reflect on the questionable methods of the Darkling, and the ways in which she might be mirroring them, despite or not it is the necessity because of the war. How she is training soldiers too, just as the Darkling did, and while the need to take children away from their homes just as soon as they were discovered Grisha was abolished, it was war, and they needed soldiers.

So like, there’s quite a big narrative going on here, how mere children are pushed into one path of becoming a soldier and the whole system that was that the Darkling followed to train the Grisha and all of that. All of this in addition to the juxtaposition to the Grisha being seen as elite despite them being hunted, and the people who are not Grisha frowning upon them. This is also the work of the Darkling, which actually paves the way to see how there can be a world where the Grisha are not feared or seen as abnormal, despite or not they are given a Saint-like narrative.

This cult could also have been the segue to discussing Yuri and his brainwashing, and the sort of cult-ish behaviour of believing in something firm when you couldn’t believe in yourself, or not seeing the magnitude of the crimes of their supposed Saint, alongside always staying focused on becoming a soldier only and never actually thinking beyond what is told.

Some of these are very subtle and some are brought up, but never given too much of an explanation.

Genya brings up another good point in the funeral chapter, about how Fjerda seemingly taking into the whole Saints thing could mean that if the Darkling moved there, he could very well sprawl his influence there to bring in supporters. Which leads to another discussion that gets brought up towards the end of the book: about Nina telling about the Ravkan Saints to Hanne and therefore to the Fjerdans,,, which doesn’t exactly sit right with me. It’s still a very nascent topic, and I think SoC3 will explore this path of faith and personal beliefs etc. but leaving it just there, while talking so much about Saints in both the countries,,, don’t exactly know how to put it into thoughts here.

But regardless, the cult of the Starless had different potential to talk of (blind) worshipping of an ideal without critically examining why the person must be put on the pedestal in the first place (and if it is simply power, then there is actually a narrative right there, which RoW gets right, about the people valuing the power still, as a result of which the monarchy still persists at the end of RoW. Even then, there’s more discussion awaiting there).

Not sure if any of this makes sense, but I’ll leave it at this here for now.

edit: 05/07/2021 | I think what I was trying to say here is that we do not have any kind of narrative evidence to seeing how and why it seems right that the Fjerdans will worship Ravkan Saints; is it merely because they are all Grisha? Or is it because of the segue explore this path of faith and personal beliefs and all of that, of the talk of the monastery and the Grisha there being of all identities, that a monastery is in Shu Han, that it has Djel's sacred Ash tree so far away from Fjerda... much to think about.

III. Characters, Characterization, Character Potential.

Mostly going to be about Nina and Zoya, but I’ll bunch up the rest of them at the end.

a) Nina

*head in hands*

I severely mourned how poorly Zoya was written in RoW, but then I realized that more than Zoya, it’s Nina whose potential was severely undermined and wasted. On one hand, I’m glad she uses her powers and quick thinking,observation and her own tactics to analyze the population and opt for the best way to make them see the truth she wants to show them (eg: making Leoni and Adrik and Zoya saints and also showing that the Grisha are the children of Djel via people’s belief to Joran and Rasmus’s mother).

But then, it’s like you said; her parts were so offbeat and outpaced and completely disjointed, when in fact, Nina is the thread that ties all the characters, their plotlines and potential, together. Nina is connected to Zoya and Hanne, two equally important characters and main characters of the duology. Whatever scope Nina has, they are greatly in parallel to Zoya and Hanne. And it’s all literally there, in the text! What a waste.

Though keeping aside these parallels, Nina’s own journey from Ketterdam to Ravka to Fjerda, while is spoken about, doesn’t touch some other parts that I see potential in. Or this is just meta.

Nina has grief not just from Matthias’ death but also from the loss of her powers as Heartrender. So much of the Second Army was built on being a soldier, and perhaps the Darkling was not outright disdainful of racial differences in his army, yet he still stripped every part of the children away until they weren’t children anymore in his view. They’re all soldiers… (albeit his soldiers, preparing them to do his bidding because hey, give and take right?). Nina was a soldier, and she is a soldier still under Zoya’s role as a General, but an ‘other’ of a soldier. That’s her only identity, and the loss of her powers means that she’s a different kind of soldier.

I imagine that this entire time, some small part of Nina longed for normalcy, or whatever settled as normal for a life like hers. In the sense that she wants to go back, but what is back and where exactly did she want to go back to? What was the before and after and where did things go wrong or change? There’s tragedy in the realization that whatever you were before what you became is not a place you can return to, and that’s a different kind of loss that she has to bear, and all by herself. She has powers over the dead now, a strange power she learns to grow to, but all the places she has been, all the lives she has led and people she had been, everything might seem like they’ve all been locked away in some strange place leaving her barren and indisposable.

She’s off to Fjerda as someone she isn’t, figuratively and literally. In KoS, Nina brings up many times how odd she feels as Mila and in some capacity longs to be Nina Zenik again. This ties in with the previous point of returning to somewhere, but where?, but is also a segue towards body dysmorphia, the thing that Nina and Hanne’s storylines parallel and connect too with in a small way. It’s a great line to follow to discuss what her discomfort with her body means to herself while it means something entirely different to Hanne, who is also not entirely comfortable being who they are. (This discomfort further which leads to gender dysphoria, while for Nina, it will be about learning to accept her powers. I’ll add on to this in a bit,).

I'm mourning the lost potential of that experience being a parallel to Hanne’s own feelings, of a discussion between people being uncomfortable with their bodies, something that can mean multitudes to each person and on their own accord.

In parallel to Zoya, I like to draw it from the fact about Nina wanting to go back to who she was, while Zoya actively tries to lock her past away and drown it somewhere or throw it to the storm, never to hear of it again. She has no identity other than being a soldier, and that’s enough for Zoya, because who she was before she was a soldier is not pleasant. But moving from being just another expendable shell of soldier under the Darkling’s rule, Zoya becomes the one third of the Triumvirate, and then the King’s general, all of which bring self-awareness of Zoya’s capabilities and challenges that are bound to excite her. But all of these also compel Zoya to be many other people to others as she slowly grows to realize that power is not just protection but also a responsibility, and it will inadvertently mean confronting her past of her lost identity, realizing the how of the Darkling, and how harmful it was. As Genya puts it perfectly in Rule of Wolves, that they were all taken away when they were young kids, not even barely children, and then thrust into responsibilities that didn’t allow them to be anything else other than what the Darkling told them to be.

Back to Nina; a few other great parts about Nina’s arc could have been about her connection to languages, as language being a mode of strengthening identity, in addition to growing to her powers. In RoW, there’s this line that goes ‘how sweet it was to speak her language [Ravkan] again’, and the feeling of homesickness. Like, Nina is trying to connect to Ravka through what she knows best—language, and then stories. In that, Nina realizes a part of her identity, which could also act as a segue to Zoya reclaiming her own heritage and ethnicity. Not only that but Zoya and Nina’s stories are literally so intertwined that it’s hard not to see how their choices and line of thought affect one another’s arcs, in the grief they have and how they choose to treat it, and also show why Zoya is particularly protective of Nina (and keeps wishing that she doesn’t become the monster Zoya had become, in the sense that Nina is more mature in handling her grief than Zoya was and the entire mercy plotline ties Nina, Zoya and even Genya together. More meta, haH).

And that’s why the ending doesn’t make sense. Even though the part about her not being comfortable as Mila is not brought up many times in the continuing chapters (and that’s why perhaps naming Nina’s discomfort as body dysmorphia may be wrong), there’s still the part of Nina readily accepting to be who she was a Mila and remain in Fjerda that seems iffy to me. Especially when Nina and Hanne literally a few chapters ago think about running away (it may be just another alternative they might be fantasizing about, but I think it still means that they both want to be their true selves without hiding any parts of it away). So her staying as Mila… well, it doesn’t exactly add up.

I’d also add the part of Nina’s story mirroring Leoni’s, and how she is from Novyi Zem and being a part of the Second Army meant that she had little to no connection with her past, her culture etc. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part that Leigh went for that arc.

edit: 05/07/2021 | I don't agree with my point anymore about Nina not having the kind of ending I assumed she might have, considering that it is very well possible for Nina to treat her identity as Mila as a fresh start, as a Grisha with a command over the the dead and begin a new normal that is suited for her. You can read more here.

b) Zoya

For one, white passing Zoya is not canon to me. I simply pretend I do not see it.

See, her race was handled very badly. Making her half-Suli was supposed to show the struggles and the trauma that the ridiculing of her identity by other people has caused to her. Except, not enough time nor text is given to thoroughly discuss it. Not to forget how problematic of a narrative in itself it is to make Zoya white passing.

It would have made more sense to make her dark skinned and predominantly Suli-looking than whatever yt bs she was put through. Her not being white-passing would have led to conversations about tokenization, or people caring little about her and not giving her any respect because she is Suli. Or being called beautiful to the face and praised just for it or a harmless tumble in their point of view.

So like, instead of making the ‘mistake’ of seeking for acceptance, seeking appreciation and love, from her mother at first and then the Darkling, Zoya instead makes herself someone to be feared, if respect was not what she deserved. The iciness is a part of her and has always been, but all of it soon became a shield, an armour that she vowed to harden her heart with. Just the sheer impact of this narrative and her reluctance, and seeing Nikolai love her for beyond who she thinks she is… if all of this was canon, I’m pretty sure I’d have built a shrine for this duology.

Let’s now talk about her grief, and...

…

Okay it’s not for me to point fingers at how Leigh chose to write about grief because there’s no one way or one proper approach to go through that pain, and if that’s how she chose to write about grief for Zoya, fine! But I really wish we’d have gotten a little more into her head to see how the trauma has affected her thoughts and how she struggles against why and what exactly it is that Juris wants her to do. That enough time and text was dedicated to Zoya’s feelings and the mayhem it caused her, as a result of which the dragon’s eye took its cue and made things more unbearable to her because she was the only one to bear them all.

Like, I feel like Zoya was overwhelmed throughout the book and in between she had some skyhigh responsibilities to discharge and it’s all so inconsistent and poorly woven,,, it completely dissolved her character from KoS and made it 10000000x more miserable for me to read her POVs. And honestly, what even were her assignments that the Kirkus review mentioned? Never an inch of text in RoW is given to decipher her complications of her mind, the muddled sense of hopelessness and fear that grips her time and again. Why overwhelm her so much that you fail to do her mental state and capacity any justice?

I’m not going to be harsh about how much David’s death bothered me-- no actually fuck that; what’s the point? Fine, he died. All because you wanted to make his death a plot device to make Zoya reconcile with loss and deal with it? Where was Genya’s grief? Literally no point of having a death in the book at all, and it didn’t even achieve anything. (I’m still trying to wrap my head around why David’s death was important and maybe if I find some straws, I’ll consider…)

There were so many other ways around it; could have brought back Lada and killed her off, or have the Darkling piss her off so badly or just. Something. Instead of whatever happened with David. I think this is too harsh and insensitive of me to say about Leigh, but still… there’s a myriad of other ways to have gone about it. Helping Zoya deal with her grief with Nikolai at her side, to understand that the rage that was fueled from her loneliness, like it had been in the past, could now be a weight that Nikolai was willing to carry with her… Helping someone with their grief, staying and choosing is also a love language you know?

So in that regard, I won’t regret saying how flat the garden scene was to me. Zoya’s lines, though tinged with grief, were so out of what I would expect KoS Zoya to say. Maybe it’s also because of how bitter I was reading about David's death, despite that part being spoiled for me.

The cost shouldn’t have been David’s death, especially not when his death too wasn’t properly handled at all, and Genya’s grief was never spared a second thought beyond bringing Titanium.

Now let’s talk about how Out of Character Zoya was throughout the book. Her punchy attitude was missing, and even if she was warming up to her friends, we see little of the iciness she continues to retain. Another part of this is about exploring her relationships, particularly with Nikolai and her growing feelings for him. I wish we’d have seen them grapple with more of their confusion and propriety, if only for the yearning™. Besides, no matter how cute their scenes were, they were mostly (like maybe some. 70%) awful to read them, simply because it felt so odd to see Zoya be so open with Nikolai, all of a sudden.

A part of this definitely has to be the fact that we don’t know just how much time has passed between the end of KoS and the start of RoW, and we never, never see any description of they regarded their feelings for each other and how they understood it themselves. I don’t actually know how exactly I can put this into words in a manner that will make sense, but the only scenes where I appreciated Zoyalai were in the Ketterdam chapters, ONLY. The rest was… bleh lmao. Their scenes were so cute and brilliant, and if only we’d seen more of the internal conflict and had given some more time for them to practically approach their feelings but still end up in the puddle of it. If only.

Their scenes apart were the good ones, because that’s where we finally see Nikolai feeling the loss, no matter how temporary (on the verge of being permanent since it’s the war), of not having Zoya with him, of not being there with Zoya because who else would it be if it wasn’t her? Zoyalai had good scenes but they barely lived up to the mark lol. Their feelings are never thoroughly explored, nor their mental capacities.

While we’re talking about Zoyalai, let’s also talk about how lame it was for Zoya to say that Nikolai was the golden spirited hero all along, from the very start, when canonically we know Zoya had little to do with him in the earlier books, that she may have only been physically attracted to him and never saw him as more than just some guy with a responsibility to manage, and had sooooooo much distrust about him. And that it was only in the next few years of working with him and alongside did she grow to recognize his efforts and relish in the hope that he was building for Ravka, inadvertently making Zoya hopeful too.

Nope. Instead, we’ll just throw in some destiny bs that he was the one all along rather than show that the beauty of their relationship did not stem what they perceived of each other, but was instead built on strong respect and admiration for one another and their capabilities. 100% destroyed their relationship for me.

Some good parts about Zoya’s arc in RoW was how she acknowledged her past mistakes, and the nuance that was touched upon in seeing sense in becoming a soldier from the start, that offered her a chance to be anything other than a bride. That some part of her was grateful for the Darkling for teaching her how to fight, while still keeping Genya’s words in mind about how they were mere kids, children who had only one path to traverse because the Darkling (who wanted their acceptance and loyalty) nor the Kings of the country let the Grisha be anything else other than pawns of the war. That she recognizes her mistakes as a teen and how self centred she was, that her being snotty had at times cost some peoples’ lives too. And she doesn’t take the blame all up on herself, because it’s not hers alone to bear. Super good.

Also, the way Zoya comes to view power as responsibility instead of merely as protection was something cool to read about. It’s not clear in the books, but Zoya actively tried to not be the Darkling while still continuing to build an army for the war out of necessity, and actually sharing some parts of the dream that the Darkling had for the Grisha. I can’t articulate this so perfectly, but the point is, Zoya trying to avoid becoming a tyrant like the Darkling was an active process that she was constantly trying to change, and where Zoya could not recognize her own feelings and inherent thoughts about warfare that in some ways did mirror the Darkling’s, by the end of book, Zoya is much more self-aware and conscious of herself and her power than she was at the start of the book. And this was well done.

Now, what is up with YA and making people turn into giants or animals lol wtf. Why couldn’t we have seen Zoya use her dragon powers in a way that symbolizes the conditions of her dragon amplifier and the power of the knowledge she obtained from Juris? She is a Saint, and we’ve seen that their powers allowed them to cause ‘miracles’ and such, as we see at the start of KoS and at the end.

Why couldn’t we have seen Zoya dabble with her newfound powers and completely lose her shit in anger during the wae, only to rein back in mercy, just as someone from Fjerda begs for forgiveness since they see her then as a Saint? Adrik and Leoni used their powers in Fjerda, so having Zoya bring about a conundrum of all orders and do something about it would also have been cool, wouldn’t it? In the funeral scene we see her turn water into ice, thereby making a path for Genya. Why couldn’t we have had more exploration of the importance of the dragon’s eye and the general nausea of being overly empathetic every. damn. time? Why didn’t we get to see her powers? Why couldn’t we have seen her fail in them and realize that the reason she was not perfect was because she was trying to be strong on her own and was not relying on others and joint effort?

Her turning into a dragon was genuinely the most baffling part bc here’s a war that’s so serious and dire with metals and bombs, and then here’s this magic that will solve all of it entirely. Like I’m not saying it was bad, (I am actually saying just that) but I also don’t know what I am saying, except that the ending felt like a fever dream.

…?

Not sure if I’ve managed to convey it properly, but well. Zoya felt out of character throughout RoW, and that the only place I saw KoS Zoya was in the final Os Kervo scene where Zoya finally agrees to be the queen.

c) Nikolai

Nikolai’s arc was very satisfying and brilliant to read about in RoW. In KoS, he seemed very much like a passive character, one of the reasons why his stunt with the Shu in RoW was appreciable, no matter how ill-timed of a plot turn it was. His journey throughout this book was also introspective to see why others deemed him unfit as the King, and even if they were his enemies who thought that in want to dispose him from the throne, Nikolai realizes that him being on the throne is not of much value and that this book was entirely about him seeing his privilege and making decisions to counter and correct the mistakes he’s made. That was nice. Oh, also his father not being an antagonist was a pleasant surprise.

I don’t have many complaints about him, except perhaps wanting some more internal conflict and elaboration about his feelings for Zoya. Them being apart was where it was satisfying, and then in the Ketterdam chapters. His arc could have been better in KoS, but that’s to blame the plot for the characterization.

d) Hanne

Now, from the very start, their arc was super good and it only got better and better until… the ending. Except it’s so odd that Hanne, a poc, has to now live as white person, while feeling comfortable in their transmasc identity. Icky, no? That you need to eliminate one part of your identity in order to feel safe and comfortable about another? Add to this the whole white-passing Zoya thing,,, doesn't exactly send off the right message.

Together with Nina, the ending seems uncharacteristic for both of them. Them coming to accept their powers and knowing to use their powers on their own accord was brilliant, though the entire husband business felt very,,, eh to me, even if it did make sense. The ending about their name and their new identity was too vague.

e) Genya, Leoni and Adrik, Kuwei, Mayu,

Genya is the one who faced the most disservice along with David. While there were exceptional parts to both of their plotlines, it's still sad that even if David's death was necessary, we don't get to see the entirety of her grief and the possible anger, and that her kindness is simply used as the justification for lack of portrayal of grief.

It really did take me by surprise, mostly because I wasn't a fan of the original Shadow and Bone book, but seeing David's conscience and self-awareness, along with Genya's (and Zoya thinking of how she wouldn't let any harm come to them, which shows a bit of her development towards her character development), was plenty refreshing. David and Genya were genuinely the highlights of the book and to kill David off was just. doesn't sit right with me.

Leoni and Adrik deserved more page time. They’re saints and immensely capable (no wonder they’re now the Triumvirate), but a few more pages for them to shine would not only have been nice, but also a necessity.

And now, Kuwei...

....

I mean,,, parem should have been the plot, alongside the entire weaponry and the discussion of making a city killer. But uh… that didn’t happen.

There's not much I have to say about Mayu, Tamar and Ehri, except that their plot was superb, only very badly timed.

There's more to talk about them in the remedy tho.

IV. Remedy

Here’s the deal. Before KoS release, there should have been a Nina novella.

Nina is a very important character. All of her potential, alongside many other parts of her personality--from dealing with grief, to accustoming to her powers, to growing stronger--there could be so much to do with her as a protagonist, alongside another character: Mayu.

A whole book dedicated to Nina in Fjerda with Hanne? Brilliant. Show Stopping. Mind blowing. It gives SO much page time to explore not just Nina and Mayu, Hanne, but also Zoya, Leoni and Inej. All together.

How?

Nina’s plotline carries the entire medical effects of the use of parem, just as Mayu’s will carry the pain she feels about her brother being a part of the khergud program. The novella will give ample time to flesh them out as characters and protagonists, each dealing with plot problems and problems of their own--like the loss of ones powers and newfound responsibilities, and the shared loss of a beloved person in parallel, even if neither Nina or Mayu interact on page.

Fjerda and Shu Han could be tied together with one chapter as a POV from Zoya (or maybe two), who, along with the Triumvirate and Nikolai, are completely at loss with the political scenario in the country, and are debating over what should be the course of action. Zoya receives news from the scouts, and missives from Nina, and Tamar takes care of the information she garners from the rest of the network, including Shu Han.

Like, the entire surprise of finding a Zoya POV, from a character whom until CK we’ve known as cold hearted and stern and not giving a fuck about anything or anyone, be humanized in that one chapter, thereby building up the anticipation for her arc,,, the very potential,,, *chef's kiss*.

And by the end of book, we could have an POV--or maybe a cameo if not a POV--of Inej meeting Nina on one of her travels of slave hunting. Inej could help take care that the women that Nina has rescued (as Nina does in KoS) reach the Ravkan shorelines safely. But, for a price.

The entire parallels between Leoni and Hanne and Nina could be set up, while also building up the narrative for the Saints’ plotline with Adrik's, Leoni's and Nina’s powers (like it was at the end of KoS). KoS and RoW would thereby continue it by tackling the weaponization and the antidote, Sainthood and the rest of the politics of it all.

Coming to Shu Han: one key aspect that I’d love to have explored would be the importance of art, during or despite the war. Of how war or pain chips away culture, while detailing on the ill effects of it from the commoners' perspectives, from the soldiers etc. Art is integral to Shu Han and could be portrayed by Mayu’s pain finding balm in poetry, of seeing glimpses of Ehri poring over poetry also mayri ftw, of politics that Makhi is weaving against Ravka, etc.

Or also add some more length to Zoya’s POV and explore a bit of Tamar and Tolya and Kuwei’s interactions and perspective added to it, of missing a home that they seemed to not know, or know; of discussing culture and differences on the basis of where they’re from (maybe the twins are from the borders, while Kuwei grew up near the capital or somewhere distant from the borders etc.), all while directly pointing at Zoya’s heritage and how it ebbs at her conscience, no matter how much she wants to bury it.

POTENTIAL !!!

Like,,, Nina novella would have been too powerful. It would have been perfect. I think I’d excuse bringing back the Darkling too if this was the case. (Or maybe not).

But welp.

Hey, thanks for reading! Not sure if you could make it this far, but if you have, you honestly deserve a medal for sitting through this all. I can’t imagine how tiring it must be to read through this, considering it seemed to take it more than month to compile this there’s also me procrastinating on it too so i’,mbhbdhshfsdn

Drop an ask if you want to talk more about this!

Sincerely, thank you!!!

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aspoonofsugar · 4 years ago

Text

Your Power...Your Theme

This post is born because of @waywardtravelerfart asking about a comparison between Semblances (Rwby) and Quirks (BNHA).

In general, I am not a hardcore BNHA fan, though, so I decided to drag other magic systems in this comparison.

So, I will be comparing...

1) Semblances:

2) Quirks:

3) Nen (HxH):

4) Abilities (BSD):

5) Magic (WHA):

Body and Soul

1) & 3)

Pyrrha: Aura is the manifestation of our soul. It bears our burdens and shields our hearts. Have you ever felt you were being watched without knowing that someone was there? With practice, our Aura can be our shield. Everyone has it, even animals.

Nen and Semblances are very similar ideas. Both have their root in the concept of aura aka life force and are trained through specific exercises that are based on martial arts.

More importantly, they are manifestations of a person’s soul.

This is why in both series they are linked to one’s individuality:

Ren: A common philosophy is that a warrior’s Semblance is a part of who they are.

And both Nen and Semblances grow and evolve with the person.

At the same time, both stories focus not only on the soul, but also on the body.

In HxH Gon and Killua must train their bodies just as much as their nen. No matter how much stronger their auras become, they would still be left defenseless if they forget about basic training and if they do not take care of their bodies.

Similarly, Huntsmen and Huntresses in Rwby have both Semblances and Weapons:

By baring your soul outward as a force, you can deflect harm. All of our tools and equipment are conduits for Aura. You protect yourself and your soul when fighting.

Weapons are linked to personalities just like Semblances are:

Ruby: Just weapons? They’re an extension of ourselves! They’re a part of us! Oh, they’re so cool.

It is only through the combination of weapons and semblances that one becomes strong and whole.

In order to experience humanity to its fullest, one needs both a soul:

And a body:

In short, Semblances and Nen are representative of the Soul. They are a physical projection of it. Moreover, they need to be completed by the Body to properly work.

BSD abilities are similar because they clearly symbolize characters’ coping mechanisms.

They are linked to people’s personalities and their effects are highly variegated and impossible to explain through biology alone (for example, a character is able to materialize a whole room in another dimension).

At the same time, they seem to have some physical properties.

For example, it is possible to create artificial abilities and to implant them into people. The process has yet to be properly explained, though.

This can be compared to the research on aura made in Rwby.

That said, this specific research is framed negatively by the narrative because it is an attempt to control what it should not be (a person’s soul).

Similary, in BSD, such experiments are criticized as well because they violate human rights and are an attempt to weaponize abilities, which is an ongoing topic explored by the story.

Quirks are instead framed as the result of biological evolution. This creates an interesting inversion compared to the other stories. Quirks are not simply physical representations of a character’s psychology, but they are a part of the reason why that character develops a specific coping mechanism.

Toga is attracted to blood because her Quirk is about drinking blood, so she naturally likes it.

Shigaraki’s destruction traumatizes him because it leads to his family’s death.

Touya’s weak constitution makes his power difficult to use, hence he develops self-hurting tendencies.

Finally, Magic in WHA is something that exists outside the characters.

It is not something people are born with, but an art they can master through study and dedication.

Its origin is still unknown, but it is explained that it works thanks to specific materials:

And even human blood can be used to strengthen it:

In short, Magic is a human art that makes use of specific natural resources and a specific knowledge to create several effects. In a sense, its logic is similar to both art and programming. It is similar to art because the witches need to exercise on drawing and to be creative on their approaches to things. It is similar to programming because they must use what is basically a specific language made of symbols to create different effects.

So, Magic is not linked to a person’s soul in the way other magical systems are, but a character’s personality still emerges from the kind of magic they specialize in. This is something unavoiable... after all this is how personality works in real life as well... we all have different approaches to problems and beliefs that will emerge in our art and in our jobs.

In conclusion, all these magical systems are connected in different ways to characters’ personalities, to their flaws and to their symbolic roles in the narrative.

In these metas, there are some examples of how this happens for HxH, Rwby, BSD and WHA.

Power and Privilege

3) & 5)

Nen and Magic are similar:

With enough training, both powers can be used by everyone.

However, both HxH society and WHA society choose to keep them secret because the damage that could come from sharing this knowledge is potentially devastating.

That said, both stories also show how there is hypocrisy behind this stance.

HxH does so in an indirect way.

Nen is supposed to be secret, so that dangerous people can’t use its power for wrong reasons.

However, many hunters are not really moral people. If anything many are violent and ready to kill. The exam itself encourages these tendencies since it does not punish murderers. Moreover, it turns out that very dangerous people already know about nen:

WHA explores this theme more directly:

The secret behind magic creates inequality. Magic could be used to help much more people, but it is limited by the law that imposes witches to keep the secret and forbids them from using magic to heal.

The result is an unjust society and a paradox. Isn’t there another way to use magic that it is less elitarian?

2) Similarly, quirks create inequality in BNHA. However, the mechanisms behind it are slightly different.

Not only people without quirks are discriminated, but also people with specific powers are considered less than others.

This happens either because the power is considered weak or lame or because it is considered a villain power.

In other words, BNHA society nurtures a simplicistic and black and white vision of quirks and people. This leads to some being discriminated for their quirks and to others being excused of everything because of their abilities.

4) In BSD, we have a similar yet partly opposite situation.

Ability users are mostly dehumanized and weaponized by society.

Basically the series explores how society makes use of its more vulnerable members and objectifies them.

So, in BSD having an ability is not really a synomim of privilege, but it is rather something that can set you apart and make you a victim of your country or your organization.

Because of this,the characters struggle to both accept their powers, but also not to be defined by it.

1) Finally, the case of RWBY is interesting because even if society is founded on privilege and inequity, semblances are not really a pivotal part of it.

It is much more common for people to be discriminated because of their bodies (like the Faunus) or their social status than for their semblances. Surely, cases like those exist, but they are not particularly explored by the story.

This might be because semblances are just one of many factors that determine a personal’s stance in society. Moreover, it is not even that clear how much common people know about semblances and aura. I would not say it is exactly a secret, especially because semblances can manifest themselves in a variety of situations. Still, it seems to me that they are mostly aknowledged and accepted by common people, but not exactly pursued or studied.

Symbolically, semblances are linked to an ancient magic that has been forgotten by people. This could tie with why some people, especially in Atlas, have been dismissive of them to an extent. Whitley dismisses his own and is not interested in developing it, while Watts is one of the few characters who fight without a semblance.

It might very well be that human technology and dust make so many different effects possible that a semblance, even if important for a warrior’s own strength and individuality, is not really the only factor that determines the place of a person in society.

In conclusion, all these power systems are linked to privilege in different ways. They are used to explore social inequality or parts of the society that are either repressed or not aknowledged.

Choices and limits

1) 2) & 4)

Quirks, Abilities, Semblances and their limits are not chosen. You are born with them and the most you can do is to try and overcome the limitations or to come up with clever ways to use your power.

You can train your Quirk, so that it becomes stronger.

When it comes to Abilities instead, characters usually must train to control what are potentially dangerous powers.

There are also abilities that help other people to control their powers and modify how these powers work. For example, there is a character whose ability is about summoning a fighting avatar. However, to do so, she needs to be called on a specific phone and it is actually the one calling that commands the avatar. Still, thanks to the influence of the above mentioned ability, she becomes able to summon the avatar at will and does not need the phone anymore.

Finally, in the case of Semblances, you need to meditate and to train your semblance, so that it can evolve. At the same time, though, semblance evolution can happen also because of specifical psychological conditions.

For example, Ren’s Tranquility both activates and evolves not because of physical training, but because of stress (the first time) and emotional growth (the second). This is fitting because his ability has mostly to do with emotions, so it is telling that it evolves as he grows emotionally rather than physically.

Ruby’s semblance is instead a physical one since she is super fast. So it is fitting that it mostly manifests and evolves with her training at using it.

Finally, when it comes to semblances, you do not really choose how they evolve and what new effects you gain. They are mostly an unconscious part of yourself that grows with you.

3) & 5)

The kind of magic you specialize in and the nen power you are gonna have are things one chooses.

To be more specific, they are influenced from one’s talents, but then they evolve according to a person’s choice.

For example, the protagonist Gon has an aura which is particularly good to strengthen things, so he chooses to use it to strengthen his punch. Moreover, he really likes Jankenpon, so he comes up with a power that uses this game. It is a technique that creates different effects depending on what he chooses to “play” (scissors, rock or paper).

Similarly, Coco is good at drawing straight lines and this makes her good with basic magic, that she uses in original ways because of her thinking outside the box. Her teacher Qifrey instead specializes in water magic because he used to be scared of water when he was little and wanted to overcome this fear.

At the same time, both nen users and witches must face limitations.

Nen has limitations that are self-imposed and decided by the users.

Magic has limitations that are imposed by society and codified through law.

Nen works with the idea that the stronger the limitation you set, the stronger will be your power. Similarly, if you sacrifice something, you can obtain a more powerful effect.

For example, another character called Kurapika creates chains with different powers. One of his chains has the limitation to only work on the members of a specific criminal group. Moreover, if Kurapika breaks this rule, he’ll lose his life. Since the sacrifice Kurapika has decided is pretty extreme, that chain is basically impossible to break.

Of course, limitations do not need to be so extreme. The protagonist’s jankenpon is limited by the fact he says out loud the name of his technique and takes time to use it (both goes against him, since it gives his opponent time to prepare). In this way the power gets stronger.

Magic is a very dangerous force, so it is prohibited to use magic on people’s bodies. This includes the idea that you can’t heal bodies directly or that you can’t change the way you look. It also forbids people from using blood to make magic stronger and to put glyphs on a person’s skin.

These limitations challenge the characters and force them to think outside the box. For example, Coco wants to save her mom who became a stone. The best way to do so is to use magic on her, but this is prohibited hence Coco keeps brainstorming about how she can do it and even thinks about breaking the law multiple times.

In conclusion, powers are often linked to the self and the degree of control and choices characters have on them is symbolic of which part of the self we are talking about.

In the case of semblances and abilities, they mirror an unconscious part.

A Quirk is a biological factor that influences one’s self instead and that everyone can try ot develop in a way they like.

Finally, nen and magic are a conscious part of the self that still mirrors unconscious tendencies.

Not only that, but abilties have limits that come from either outside the person or inside them.

POWER SYSTEMS AND THE FIVE KINDS OF CONFLICT

In stories, there are at least five types of conflict.

1) Man vs Self

2) Man vs Society

3) Man vs Man

4) Man vs Nature

5) Man vs God

The magic systems we explored are linked to at least three of these five types.

Man vs Self

Supernatural abilities are linked to a person’s interiority and personality. Often they are representative of the character’s flaw and their limits can be overcome only by the person’s growth.

Man vs Society

Power systems end up being influenced and influence fictional societies.

They can represent privilege or some wrongdoing in society itself.

Alternatively, they can be limited by society’s rules and imposed laws.

Man vs Man

It is not uncommon to have special powers used in fights. In this case, they become symbolic ways to explore characters’ relationships, themes and different value systems.

This is something that BSD, HxH and Rwby do a lot. WHA has had less fights as for now, but it is definately something that has come up and will come up more in the future. Finally, I am not too much into BNHA to comment on the series, but I would be surprised if it is not the same there as well.

In conclusion, I do not really have much to say on the onthology of powers in different narrative worlds and tbh I do not think this is really what many writers think about when they design them. I think what writers focus on is how to make interesting powers that convey a character’s personality, can be used to explore the world and give life to entertaining fights.

#hxh #bnha #rwby #bsd #wha #waywardtravelerfart #meta #my meta #magic system

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psychotrenny · 1 year ago

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mizrahi jews did not migrate because of the actions of ashkenazi jews, they were exiled from their homelands in the 30s and 40s (iraq, yemen, afghanistan, etc.)

For one, I don't know where you're getting the time period "30s and 40s" from? Even Zionists usually consider the "Mizrahi Exodus" to date from the 50s onwards; a big part of how the process is portrayed by pro-Zionist sources is the framing as Israel as this land of opportunity and safety for Jews fleeing the violence and intolerance of the Arab world, something that couldn't exactly happen until Israel was actually established as a state in 1948.

Secondly as I've already stated multiple times the displacement, marginalisation and violent attack on Palestinians by Zionist European Settlers was already underway in Mandatory Palestine by the 1920s, as embodied by the existence of groups like Haganah and Irgun. So like even if we for whatever reason backdate the supposed mass exile of the Mizrahi to the "30s and 40s" it's still very easy to see the correlation between violence perpetrated by European settlers in the name of "Jewishness" and the development of conflict between previously peacefully co-existing communities of Jews and Gentiles in North Africa and West Asia.

And finally, the idea that the mass migration of Mizrahi Jews to Palestine was the result of intolerance from Muslim neighbors is essentially a Zionist distortion of a much more complicated situation. Soon after the establishment of Israel, the new government actively encouraged Jews from the surrounding region to migrate and worked with many of the surrounding governments (usually the European colonial governments that still controlled extensive tracts of the region) to facilitate this. Some Jews (such as those of Yemen or Morocco) were even essentially deported against their will by the wishes of the Israeli government. While there was an increase in inter-communal conflict between Jewish and Gentile populations in the region, this was both due to the general aftermath of Israeli's brutal establishment and in response to specific actions such as the Mossad terrorist attacks in Egypt in 1954 with some actions even being specifically undertaken in order to cause conflict (or even just the appearance of conflict) and induce migration such as Mossad's activities in Iraq through the 1950s. The sheer degree that direct violence and persecution played in such migrations has also been greatly exaggerated by Zionists in order to justify their continued aggression against the people of Palestine and their Allies; the idea that you can draw any real equivalence between the population movements of the Mizrahi Aliyah and that of the Palestinian Nakba is a ghoulish distortion of history that only serves to justify Zionist atrocities both past and present. One was a more or less voluntary* migration that was only partially induced by fears (both hypothetical and actually realised) of conflict while the other was an incidence of direct and unambiguous ethnic cleansing. The factors that led to the Mizrahi migration has plenty of "pull" in addition to "push" and a great deal of said "push" was deliberately engineered by the Israeli government rather than being purely the result of some natural Islamic cruelty or antagonism

*while not an entirely fair thing to say, and its accuracy will vary a lot on a case by case basis, the Mizrahi migrants on the whole had a lot more freedom than the Palestinians in both the decision to leave and their choice of destination (as several of those linked articles mentioned, some Mizrahi migrated to Europe or the Americas rather than Israel)

#stella speaks

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thepapergirlandthespiegelman · 3 years ago

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Castlevania Season 4: I’m not mad, just disappointed

Season 4 is poorly written fanfiction, which is...better than a lot of things could be, I guess.

Spoilers below the cut.

Content warning: trauma, sexual assault, psychological manipulation

The Gods Have Had a Change of Heart

Or, “Season 3 Blocked and Ignored”

Season 3 felt like the fabric of the universe had been twisted just to inflict additional pain. Season 4 overcompensates in the other direction; trauma evaporates, and good things happen for no other reason than to make our favorite characters happy.

The Season 3 finale left two characters in particular totally devastated: Alucard and Hector. Alucard is violently betrayed in a horrifying sexual assault by the first two people he’s spoken to since Trevor and Sypha left. He ends up killing them in self-defense and puts their bodies on stakes outside the castle, alluding to his father’s habit of doing so and potentially hinting at a turn toward evil. Hector is seduced by Lenore and then enslaved using a magic ring.

Yet at the start of Season 4, it’s as if these things never happened. Alucard is troubled, but not totally devastated, certainly not evil. Taka and Sumi are referenced in exactly one conversation with new character, Greta, in which she says the rather tactless throwaway line, “I had a boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time once. But they never tried to kill me.” Hector is nominally imprisoned, but immediately seems highly agentic, perhaps even more so than before. He studies, lays traps, and makes secret plans with other people. Furthermore, his relationship with Lenore is completely transformed. From falling to his knees in abject horror and despair at being enslaved, he suddenly switches to light banter, in what is apparently a basically okay, mutually enjoyed romantic/sexual relationship. Manipulative, selfish Lenore is now a sympathetic character struggling to reconcile her own role and feelings with Carmilla’s plans.

The events of season 3 happened, remaining canon in the most basic, literal sense. But the emotional weight attached to them has disappeared into thin air.

Not gonna lie, I did breathe a sigh of relief when I saw that Alucard and Hector were okay. I’m soft-hearted! I don’t like seeing characters I like suffer! I mean, conflict is important, and I can deal with (or even enjoy in a certain sense) seeing characters suffer if it makes sense and serves a narrative purpose. But as far as I can tell, the season 3 finale was nothing more than lurid, meaningless violence. I probably wouldn’t have continued watching the show if it devolved into nothing more than finding novel ways to torture the characters.

Still, it doesn’t feel quite right to pretend like nothing happened either. Or, really, not that nothing happened, but that those things didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, didn’t leave lasting scars. That’s...almost kind of worse.

But, I thought, I can sort of forgive this sudden shift in the stars, given that there may have been some sort of change in creative direction relating to Ellis’ decreased involvement with the show.* Plus, season 3 was insanity. It’s not like it was full of great writing choices, so if we quietly ignore some of them, maybe that’s for the best.

*I only later learned that Netflix actually chose to continue with Ellis’ season 4 scripts. It is not lost on me that maybe Ellis doesn’t know how to write about the lasting effects of traumatic sexual experiences or how power dynamics can make a sexual relationship problematic because he doesn’t understand that those things exist.

Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening

Pretty Pictures, Not Much Else

Unfortunately, the disconnect between seasons 3 and 4 isn’t the only problem with this season. Although I felt that season 4 was a bit less boring than season 3 (I particularly enjoyed some of the earlier episodes of season 4), it suffers from the same basic problems of Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening.

None of the characters experience any significant development, let alone any sort of coherent arc. Sypha has changed slightly, becoming more rough and jaded. I did really like the scene where she talks about becoming the kind of person who says “shit.” I think it really speaks to how entering into a relationship with someone means taking on aspects of their lifestyle, and how that can change you in ways that you can’t predict and therefore can’t exactly “agree” to. Sometimes those changes are good, sometimes they’re bad, sometimes they’re neutral, and sometimes it’s difficult to know. But you have to accept that you’re sacrificing some aspects of the person that you could have been if you chose to live completely independently, or with someone else.

Trevor really hasn’t changed since season 1 when he first decided to take up the mantle of hero again. Likewise with Alucard. Hector and Lenore change, as previously noted, but that change is sudden, jarring, and occurs completely off screen in between seasons 3 and 4. Carmilla dies as exactly as she lived: bitter, angry, and violent. Saint Germain just kind of...gets fucked over in a nonsensical subplot, which is its own whole can of worms.

We also get several new characters in season 4, none of whom have developed personalities or motives, nor do they develop any of those things over the course of the season: Greta, Zamfir, Varney, Ratko.

And nobody. Does. Anything.

Trevor and Sypha spend the entire season trying to explore and aid Targoviste, which comes to absolutely nothing. They’re unable to help anyone, Zamfir dies, and they end up just jumping through a magic portal to the actually relevant subplot in the finale. Carmilla literally does little more than draw maps until she’s ultimately killed. Hector plays a minor role in Saint Germain’s extraction of Dracula from Hell; otherwise, he and Lenore basically just exchange banter. Saint Germain does sort of do some stuff? But it’s often unclear how he’s made his connections, who the people who are helping him are, or what exactly he’s doing in terms of his magic beyond “whatever it takes to get back to his lover.”

Sure, there are fight scenes, but they feel meaningless. There’s no context, no stakes. There’s also a LOT of dialogue, and it is. Not well written. Exposition is embarrassingly clumsy at times, and the philosophical musings are cliche at best, muddled and confusing at worst. There’s just not all that much going on.

That is, except for Isaac. But more on him in a second.

What Kind of Show Is This?

When the plot line adapted from Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse ended with season 2, the show struggled to establish a new identity.

Despite nominally dealing with themes like whether humanity is inherently good or evil and how to cope with wrongdoing and loss, seasons 1 and 2 ultimately boiled down to a pretty generic action-adventure/fantasy plot with found family/power of friendship elements. Main characters Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard don’t really wrestle with big philosophical questions or suffer any major defeats. They know that they have to take down Dracula for the good of the world, and they work together as a team to do it, with a little character development relating to their various backstories sprinkled in.

Then season 3 happened, and things got weird. The trio is broken up for what feels like a pretty trivial reason—Alucard has to protect the castle and Belmont hold, I guess? And the result of that decision is that the dynamics for the three main characters are completely unbalanced.

Ellis openly admits that he basically went feral with the writing of season 3, and it shows. The messaging in seasons 1 and 2 was cliche, but consistent. The message of season 3? Anyone’s guess.

Season 4 reversed the darkening of tone from season 3, but shares its inability to pick a story and tell it.

Isaac is the Main Character

Always has been.

While I can’t say that his character or arc are perfect, I can say that he actually has a character and an arc. He starts off motivated by his fierce loyalty to Dracula, then has to struggle to find his purpose once Dracula is gone. He goes from subservient to agentic. He goes from fully endorsing the genocide of humanity and not caring about his own life to seeing some worth in humans and genuinely wanting to live. He has an interesting moment that deepens our understanding of what night creatures are, while also serving as an exploration of the meaning of one’s fundamental nature. Most importantly, these changes happen naturally over the course of the show. They never feel forced or out of the blue, and while I feel like even more could have been done with Isaac’s character, there’s a lot to appreciate about what is there.

If there’s any thread holding Castlevania as a single, coherent work together, it’s Isaac. Not only is his character the best executed and the most coherent over the course of the show, his character explores themes that are larger than himself and relevant to the show as a whole, like those mentioned earlier: misanthropy versus a belief in the value of humanity; the ability to go beyond one’s “nature” or initial circumstances; and how to respond to being wronged or losing something important to you. Exploring the individual lives of characters is great, but really good writing usually requires going beyond that to reflect on broader questions and ideas. Isaac is the only character here that serves that larger purpose.

Sorry...I Just Don’t Buy It

The season 4 finale is crazy, although in a different way from season 3′s.

Varney being Death makes no sense on several different levels. I’m not going to spend a lot of time picking that particular plot twist apart, but I will talk about why I think it doesn’t work at the largest scale, and how I think season 4 might have been done better.

Last minute twists with zero foreshadowing are rarely a good idea, and this is no exception. Why introduce this “Death” entity at the last minute to be the most important battle of the season? The finale of the entire show, even? Besides the lack of logic or emotional buildup, this robs the show of the opportunity to make use of the antagonists that it already has. Since Dracula died, Carmilla has been the obvious choice for a new big bad. Why hasn’t she done more?

Season 4 feels crowded with characters and plot lines that amount to nothing. Why not bring some of these characters together? If Carmilla is the main antagonist, how come she never meets any of the protagonists (except Hector, who is a pretty minor player in this ecosystem) or even affects them in any way?

Season 4 feels like maybe it was trying to make something out of season 3 and the model that it presented, but it ultimately fails to do so. The writers throw the trio back together at the end anyway, so why not have them rejoin sooner and work together? Maybe Sypha and Trevor’s past experience with Saint Germain could have helped Alucard and Greta piece together what he was plotting sooner, rather than all four of them being completely blindsided by it in the penultimate episode. (Sypha and Trevor know that someone is trying to resurrect Dracula, but they fail to find out any actual detail about the plans, despite their supposed attempts.) Have characters actually do stuff, figure stuff out, advance the plot!

Likewise, maybe Carmilla becomes aware of Saint Germain’s scheming, sees it as a threat, and tries to take him down. Maybe she tries to get involved and somehow use alchemy or the Infinite Corridor to her own benefit. What does it look like when power-hungry Carmilla, who wants to rule the world, finds out there’s an entire multiverse out there? That could easily set her up to be a foil to Saint Germain, causing him to realize that what he’s doing is wrong.

What actually ended up happening in the show feels disjointed and often empty. In particular, most of the events that happen in the last two episodes just don’t really work for me. I didn’t like Trevor suddenly sacrificing himself to this random, new, super powerful enemy, or how the gems and dagger that he found just happened to be the perfect weapon to kill this new enemy, or how he inexplicably returns from the dead.

This kind of thing is what I mean when I say that this season feels like fanfiction. Trevor comes back from the dead for no discernible reason other than that it would really suck if he died. Greta as a character seems to literally only exist to be Alucard’s girlfriend and support him so that he doesn’t have to continue to be alone and potentially turn evil. Alucard’s trauma from Taka and Sumi and Hector’s trauma from Lenore are both conveniently erased. Even Dracula and Lisa are resurrected somehow and get their happy ending. And it’s like, I guess I prefer deus ex machina to the opposite (Does that have a name? When everything is going well but then something terrible happens for no reason other than to make things worse for the characters?), but they’re both bad writing.

God. This isn’t even getting into what happened with the Council of Sisters. And I don’t even really like those characters, but that doesn’t mean I want to see their characters handled poorly.

I’m not sorry that I watched until the end, but I can’t in good faith recommend the show as a whole. If you’ve yet to watch Castlevania, just stop at the end of season 2. While there are some shining moments in seasons 3 and 4 (4 more than 3), it’s just really not worth it.

#review #thoughts #television #animation #adult animation #video game adaptation #fantasy #Netflix #Netflix Original #Castlevania #storytelling #writing #characters #plot #character development #vampires #Isaac (Castlevania)

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geekgirles · 3 years ago

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Your Heart

Chapter 9 -- Answers

Word Count: 17199

READ ON AO3

When Danny first visitedーor, more accurately, when he first crashed intoーthe Far Frozen, he shared the same first impression as Tucker; it was ball-freezing cold.

Frostbite and his people’s homeland was a frozen paradise where blinding white snow went as far as reached the eye. What at first glance appeared to be a rather rudimentary village made out of small houses carved into mounds of ice and frost was infinitely more complex than that. The Realm of the Far Frozen was one of the most technologically advanced territories in all the Infinite Realms; even Technus coveted access to their facilities. A stark contrast to its inhabitants' simple clothing, for instance.

The ice huts were in truth the entrance to a far more elaborate citadel built underground and connected by countless tunnels and caverns, for it provided better shelter. Some shacks did indeed lead to the citizens’ homes, not unlike a rabbit’s den, but the vast majority of them worked as the gates to the tunnels leading to the metropolis beneath the snow.

In fact, the only cavern that truly was a mere cave, despite its importance among Frostbite’s people, was the cave where Danny’s battle against Pariah Dark was recorded. In reality, everything about Far Frozen was proof that one should never judge a book by its cover. The ice-wielding ghosts had the fearsome looks of canine yetis; their claws alone the size of Danny’s head, their snouts filled to the brim with razor-sharp fangs; even now, standing at 5’9 feet tall, Frostbite’s colossal height and build dwarfed the halfa’s own developed physique, and the number of ghosts who shared the yeti-like species’ proficiency at cryokinesis could be counted with one handーaside from Danny himself, the only other ghost that came to mind was Klemper, and even he relied mostly on brute strength and freezing breath.

And yet, despite everything that should’ve turned Frostbite and his people into some of his most formidable foes, they in turn were some of the biggest supporters of his rule. If you looked for the definition of ‘gentle giant’ in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of them. Frostbite’s people were noble, kind, and loyal. So long their way of living wasn’t threatened, should a crisis arise, they were always the first ones volunteering themselves to help Danny in any way they could.

Not to mention Frostbite himself had more than once filled the role of the young Ghost King’s mentor. A role he had no choice but to exploit now.

Landing gracefully on top of the snow, Danny waited patiently until the leader of the Far Frozeners came flying by on his hoverboard in the midst of his patrolling his land. Soon enough, taking notice of a shadow being cast on him, he looked up to see the ghost’s familiar face grinning down at him, by his side one of his subjects looked on with interest.

“Great One!” he exclaimed before hopping off the vehicle and coming to stand beside his king, followed by a respectful bow. “To what do we owe the honour of this visit?”

Danny smiled appreciatively at him. “Hello, Frostbite. I know this is probably too sudden, but I could really use your help right now.”

“Nonsense.” The bigger ghost assured him with the raise of a dismissive paw. “My people will be forever indebted to you for freeing the Ghost Zone once and for all from the tyrannical influence of Pariah Dark.” He placed his large paw on his ruler’s shoulder, staring him down with a warmth that shouldn’t belong with a race of tundra dwellers. “Now, do tell, what can we possibly help with?”

Feeling uncomfortable, the halfa looked down on his feet and scratched the back of his head. He really didn’t want to go to Frostbite for help, knowing how cautious he was around the mere mention of them. Unfortunately, he didn’t know who else to go to. “I need your help with…the witches.”

He mumbled that part so low for a moment he worried his old friend might not have heard him, but the sudden look of urgency in his red eyes said otherwise. “Come, we must make haste.” With a nod of his head, Frostbite signalled to the hoverboard’s pilot to lower the vehicle, getting aboard right after Danny. “We will continue where we left off tomorrow at dawn, for now let us head back home.” He instructed the pilot as he ushered Danny to take a seat.

“As you wish, sir.” The other Far Frozen replied as he changed course.

“Thank you.” Danny said truthfully. “I’m sorry for bringing them up, but I think you might be the only one able to help me.”

Frostbite shook his head. “Fear not, Great One. My people and I understand you are doing everything in your power to protect us from their harmful ways. Even if we do not wish to come in contact of any kind with them, we will not hesitate to aid you in your quest.”

Even if on the outside Danny was smiling, his words made his insides churn. He felt like he was lying to his mentor. After his last encounter with Lady Arcana a part of him, probably the same part of him who originally told him this was a good idea, resented the way ghosts referred to witches.

Jazz would probably say that was the result of personal growth. Since the Witch Queen went out of her way to make sure he was safe despite their mutual animosity, his mind had been opened to new horizons, meaning he now understood he’d been unfair to them based on prejudice and naysay, rather than first hand experience.

At least, that’s what Psychologist Jazz would say. Overprotective, Older Sister Jazz would say something more along the lines of, “Snap out of it, little brother! You’re not fourteen and hormonal anymore; don’t let a pretty face fool you!”

Even so, here he was. Asking Frostbite for help even though it felt like he was just desperately looking for something, anything, that would debunk the reasons behind his people’s grudge against witches, if only to assure himself that his current, improved, opinion of their leader wasn’t unfounded.

Come on, man, that’s not the only reason you’re doing this and you know it. He tried to reason. How much do you know about witches other than what you’ve been told? Nothing, that’s how much he knew about them. Exactly. You’re the one taking risks by working with Lady Arcana. What if your previous hunch was wrong and they really can’t help? Wouldn’t that mean you’ve been wasting your time? Okay, that’d be bad. Really bad. He only asked for their help because he was sure they were the only ones who could do anything about the portals, but if not even them had the solution to the portals opening, what was he going to do?! Right? And how are you going to figure that out if you don’t know what they’re truly capable of? Really, this is for the best.

Danny didn’t want to sound conceited, but his inner monologue brought up incredibly good points to the conversation. He was doing this for the sake of Earth and the Ghost Zone alike. His personal opinion on the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park was irrelevant.

A sudden jerk that almost sent him flying brought him out of his reverie. Looking around he noticed they’d finally arrived back at the village, and Frostbite was smirking down at him in amusement. “I have yet to see you use the powers that come with your position to their full potential,” he started between chuckles, “but I believe not even the Great One is exempt from having to use the seatbelt when travelling.”

Registering the way the leader of the Far Frozen moved his ice-encased arm to his lap, Danny realised he was the only person aboard who didn’t have his seatbelt on. When Frostbite unbuttoned his seatbelt with a pointed look, the green-eyed ghost could only flush in embarrassment. “Uh…oops?”

A low chuckle rumbled through the yeti-like ghost’s chest. “Come, Great One.” Resting his large paw on Danny’s back, Frostbite ushered him out of the hoverboard and began guiding him through his home’s numerous underground passages. They walked in silence, the sound of ice and snow being stepped on was the only thing that could be heard. Even though several detours were carved into the walls, his mentor kept directing him to go straight until he instructed they took a turn.

Danny was sure his jaw was inches away from touching the ground as his eyes surveyed the colossal ice gates in front of him. Judging by their icy blue hue, they were thick enough to withstand practically anything. He doubted even one of his most charged up ecto-rays would be enough to crash into them. Many intricate designs ran alongside them, and they definitely had to protect something of great value to explain the two guards at each side.

As if reading his mind, Frostbite supplied an answer for his unspoken queries, “The library, oh, Great One.” With a snap of his fingers, the two guards bowed down before they simultaneously turned the doorknobs and opened the doors for them, granting them access.

“Wait, the library?” Danny frowned in confusion, which only doubled at Frostbite’s hearty laugh.

“Yes, Great One.” He smiled down at him as he led him inside. “If what you’re looking for is answers, I cannot think of a better place to find them than a library.”

Looking now at his mentor’s furry back, for he was surveying the different shelves most likely in search of a book that might have the information he was looking for, the young monarch blurted out, “How do you know I’m here for answers?”

Frostbite grabbed a book from the shelf he was currently facing, only to think better of it and return it in exchange for another one. “Usually, when you come all the way over here it is because you have questions you need answers to.”

Danny winced at the pang of guilt that pierced through his core. Was he always so self-interested he only ever came when he needed something?

“Worry not, Great One.” The yeti-like spirit said, not looking up from the book in his large paws. “My people will always be at your service. It is an honour to be able to help you, for we know you will always aid us in return.” He closed the book with a low thud, flashing him a friendly smile.

Danny could only gape at the ghost before him, his mouth opening and closing in a fashion akin to a fish’s. Seriously, did the Far Frozeners have telepathy too?!

“No, we do not possess the ability to read minds.” Looking down at the certainly flabbergasted expression on the half-ghost’s face, Frostbite roared with laughter, the sound echoing throughout the walls. “I jest, Great One. I just know you too well. Also, your expressions speak volumes.” He commented offhandedly before returning his focus to another section of the library.

And to think he’d managed to fool his parents all these years…Sliding a hand through his mess of shock-white locks, the Ghost King came to stand beside his old friend, scanning over the different titles as well. After a while, he realised something. “Um, Frostbite?” He called out to his mentor.

“Yes, Great One?”

“Are we perhaps looking for information to answer my questions about the witches?”

Never tearing his eyes away from the sacred manuscripts in full display in his people’s library, Frostbite nodded. “Precisely, your Majesty.”

“Just one question, though?”

“What is it?”

“How are we going to find a book that’ll help me, if I still haven’t told you what I need help with?” Danny pointed out, tilting his head to his side as he awaited an answer.

The larger ghost’s red eyes widened in realisation. Indeed, that would prove difficult. “My apologies, Great One. In my haste to be of help I got ahead of myself.” Turning to his king, he bowed his head solemnly, unknowingly making Danny uncomfortable. Back in the day the halfa would’ve tried deterring him in his use of honorifics when talking to him, but it was a lost cause and getting him to stop bowing would be as well. In the end he simply chose to go with the flow. Raising his body, Frostbite used his ice-encased arm to gesture to a corner of the room, where a few chairs were arranged around a table. “Please, allow me to rectify my mistake by listening to your queries and answering them to the best of my ability.”

As soon as he got comfortable in his chair, which wasn’t difficult as the hair serving as upholstery was very fluffy and warm, Danny tried to voice his thoughts. “Well...um...you see…” Key word being ‘tried,’ in the end he blurted out, “How does their magic work?”

As Frostbite met his question with stunned silence, his head tilted to the side and a bushy eyebrow raised in confusion, the green-eyed half-ghost couldn’t blame him. How was it he always ended up asking the exact same thing to every person relatively knowledgeable about witches he talked to?

Before his old friend could ask for some much needed clarification, Danny hurried to deliver it himself. “I’m sorry, that was too random.” He pushed his bangs out of his face, trying to organise his thoughts. Better be straightforward with this one. “Why is it that their magic can touch us while we’re intangible?”

The question had been eating him alive for the last few days. Now matter how long he wracked his brain for answers, he came up empty-handed. Admittedly, most of the times he was hit by an opponent’s attack it was usually because, in the heat of the moment, he all but forgot he could turn intangible at will and effortlessly pass through whatever projectile was thrown his way. It was an embarrassing mistake that haunted himーhow ironic, huh?ーsince he first started gaining control over his powers.

And yet, when he did remember to turn intangible at the sight of upcoming ecto-rays or laser beams, he could come out unscathed of anythingーother ghost’s using their powers against him, the Guys in White and their tax-money equipment, even his parents’ own inventions.

Well, almost everything…

Valerie’s own arsenal of ecto-weapons was the only thing that could touch (or, more accurately, hurt) him when he was intangible. He could only guess what Vlad and subsequently Technus had used to create her suit and weaponry. Until now. Now he’d accidentally found out witches could nonchalantly wrap their magical, tendril-like thingy around his ankleーlast time in a successful attempt to help him, which was very much appreciatedーand it actually came as a surprise to them they were even able to do it!

If only he could figure out why that was…

“Great One,” Frostbite sighed from his own chair, snapping him out of his reverie, “I fear I might not be of help to you. I know nothing of what you speak.”

At that, the halfa jumped to his feet, almost pleadingly. “What do you mean, Frostbite? How come you don’t know, you know practically everything!”

A mirthless chuckle escaped the Far Frozener’s throat. “You flatter me, my King. But I really am as lost as you are on the matter. I could tell you many other things, but not that.”

“Then, what can you tell me?”

Rising to his feet, the yeti-like creature beckoned his hero and leader to follow him to another part of the library. Once they were in front of a particular shelf, Frostbite slid his finger over the different volumes until he found the one he was looking for. With a triumphant sound, he picked it up and started leafing through it as he handed the book to Danny.

When the halfa took the heavy book in his hands he almost dropped it when he saw the intricate drawing between its pages. Pictured inside the book were very realistic, if slightly worn out by time, drawings of the Amulets of Aragon and portrayals of people Danny could only assume were Dorothea and her brother while they were alive.

Frostbite’s booming voice forced him to look up to his direction. “Whatever knowledge on the sorceress’ nature beyond their affinity to magic and ability to free us from the chains that bind us to our world without the use of portals is long gone.” He delicately traced an invisible circle around the image of the amulet with one of his sharp claws as he explained, “After our people's separation, only remnants of their activity were left.

“It is thanks to their prolonged presence in our lives, and the intertwining of energies resulting from our past interactions, that those with magic-based abilities can still survive today. Without the witches’ previous impact on our society, Princess Dorothea and her brother would have long lost the power to wield their amulets. And, as you know, it is thanks to them that magical items even exist in our world.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me…” He muttered under his breath, resentment coming back at full force.

“On the contrary, my King. I am enlightening you.” Frostbite corrected, earning himself a confused look from Danny that encouraged him to go on. Instead of answering with words, however, Frostbite merely turned his head with a faraway look in his eyes, prompting the halfa to do the same. The moment his eyes laid on a particular object on the other side of the room, Danny could feel himself go jawslacked.

With wide eyes, he turned his head so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. “The Infi-map is here because of the witches?” He asked with a strangled voice.

Frostbite simply nodded. “It was a gift from them, to be precise. Legend has it, eons ago the Infinite Realms were desperately looking for ways to anticipate when the next ghost portal would open when an ancient witch queen from the Old World offered the enchanted Infi-map as the solution.

“She was especially close to my people, thus how we came to guard it. It is also why the Far Frozen is so wary of them now; how a race of beings we once shared such a close bond with could doom our very existence like they did was too much for even our benevolent nature to forgive.” He lowered his head in mourning. Maybe they only had stories of how things used to be, but it was clear the women’s betrayal was a deeply pierced wound that would forever be opening and closing at the very core of the Far Frozeners’ hearts.

Seeing his friend’s dejected expression, Danny regretted even bringing them up almost instantly. “So there’s no way of possibly knowing how they can touch us while intangible?”

“As I said, only remnants of their presence remain.” Right after he said that, however, his downhearted expression turned thoughtful, his paw stroking his snout in thought. “Although, perchance, there is one ghost that might be able to shed some light on the matter...”

...........

Clockwork.

He had to go and say Clockwork.

Of fucking course. Why not? Couldn’t he have said Pandora? Despite her fierce and fearsome demeanour, underneath all that anger and aggression laid a very helpful gal! And besides, she was a spirit that had been roaming the Ghost Zone since the times of Ancient Greece! What could be more ancient than Ancient Greece?

Okay, fine...maybe the very ghost who’d borne witness to the rise and fall of the Greek civilisation alongside countless others before and after. But his point still stands.

At least this time he wouldn’t be visiting the all-knowing Ghost of Time by himself; Frostbite had offered to go with him seeing as it was per his suggestion he’d be visiting in the first place. Proof of it was the yeti-like ghost flying right beside him towards the Ghost of Time’s tower. And Clockwork always treated Frostbite with respect.

Danny would admit he was being a bit harsh. In all fairness going to Clockwork was the most logical thing to doーif there was someone who’d have all the answers he needed, it was the very ghost who knew absolutely everything. The problem would be getting the answers out of him.

Deep down, the halfa knew he should’ve gone to him from the beginning, it was just dealing with him could really take its toll on Danny, no matter how much he respected and appreciated his guidance. Was Clockwork a good mentor to Danny? Absolutely, he was sure he’d never made it as far as he had without his and Frostbite’s help. In the end, was the greater good Clockwork’s priority? Was it ever! The shape-shifting ghost would never hesitate to go against orders from the Observants (all too gleefully, might he add) if he believed it’d led them to the better timeline. Did his cryptic nature and that frustratingly annoying, knowing smirk he always wore when he needed his help with something sometimes encourage Danny to jump off a cliff in his human form?

Maybe.

He just hoped Frostbite’s presence would help matters, if only a bit.

And speaking of Frostbite…“We approach the Master of Time’s lair, Great one.” Soon enough, the immense clock tower standing proud in the middle of the Infinite Realms could be sighted not far away from them.

Danny sighed dejectedly. “Let’s get this over with…” he grumbled as he changed course in the direction the ghostly lair resided.

Once they arrived at Clockwork’s tower, Danny reached a hand out to push the door open and let themselves in. It wasn’t like they were going to catch its owner off-guard, after all. As they ventured inside, their eyes scanning for the ever-changing form of the master of time, the constant tick-tock coming from the numerous clocks scattered around the place reached their ears. Like the ticking crocodile Captain Hook dreaded so much, the tower was a constant reminder of the passage of time. Even if the Ghost of Time had long ago explained to him the essence of his power was never as linear as most beings made it out to be, all Danny could think of whenever that incessant sound registered in his mind was one thing:

Time was running out and the end was nigh.

Shaking those thoughts away, for now wasn’t the moment to get lost in them, Danny cupped a hand around his mouth. “Clockwork?” He called. “Anybody home?”

In the blink of an eye, the child-like form of the ghost in question materialised in front of them with an amused grin on his childish face. When he opened his mouth to speak, instead of an appropriately high-pitched voice came a deep, baritone one, “I’ve been expecting you.” The fact it came from a kid’s mouth made it all the more jarring, but Danny was used to it by now.

Whereas Frostbite respectfully bowed down in greeting, Danny just stared blankly at the ghost before him, his arms folding over his chest. “‘I’ve been expecting you?’ Really? What are you, a fortune teller?”

Changing to his adult form, a more fitting low chuckle escaped his throat. “We both know I’m one of the very few creatures in existence within his right to call himself that.” Then he added, almost like an afterthought. “Also, I felt like it.”

“Figures,” he muttered. Despite himself, the halfa couldn’t stop the lopsided smile from forming on his face.

Clockwork then turned to the leader of the Far Frozen. “It’s good to see you again, Frostbite. What business brings you here?”

Standing up from his bowed position, Frostbite returned the greeting. “Greetings, Lord Clockwork. It is good to see you as well. Do forgive my impertinence, but I believe you must already know why I am here.”

The master of time nodded, now taking the form of an old man, the grip on his scepter just a little bit tighter for support. “Indeed, you’re here to support our young king. How noble of you.”

“I am merely doing what it is expected of me.”

“That you do.” Clockwork agreed, nodding wisely. As the larger ghost had accurately pointed out, when one addressed the Ghost of Time, everything they did became expected. “That you do, my friend.”

“Um, could we please speed things up?” Danny suggested, growing frustrated with the pointless introductions. “As Frostbite said, you already know why we’re here, so why don’t you tell us if you can help us or not?”

“I said I know why Frostbite’s here, seeing as that is a staple in almost every timeline. That doesn’t mean I necessarily know the actual reason why you’re here since it’s more subject to change.” The Ghost of Time countered, but that devilishly knowing smirk of his was back on his face, all but screaming he did know exactly why they were here. “So, what are you here for, boy?”

Resisting the very strong urge to yank at his hair in despair, Danny managed to at least reply calmly. Sarcastically, but calmly. “As if you don’t know the answer already.”

Clockwork’s smirk widened. “Then humour me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing through it, the Ghost King thought the best way to formulate his question. Just because the master of time was, well, the master of time that didn’t mean he shouldn’t try to at least make sense. “I need answers.” He finally admitted. “There’s a lot going on with Lady Arcana that I can’t understand. I originally asked for Frostbite’s help but, unfortunately, he didn’t have what I’m looking for. And honestly?” He sent the shapeshifting ghost a meaningful glance, hoping it’d be enough to express how serious he was. “I don’t think she has the answers, either.”

Clockwork arched an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

“She can touch me when I go intangible!” Danny threw his arms up. Really, knowing how she could do that was all he needed. If he found out more about her people, wonderful! But as long as he got to know why one of his core powers seemingly meant nothing to her, he was golden. “Well, not her, her magic can.” He amended. “Just the other day, I was intangible and she wrapped one of her wispy tendrils around my ankle, yanking me down. How is that possible?”

For a moment, the Ghost of Time remained silent. With his head resting on his staff, his body kept changing its physical appearance as his deep, red eyes stayed fixated upon the young king. And Danny couldn’t honestly be sure if Clockwork was really thinking his next words carefully or just toying with him. He was an adult again by the time he finally spoke. “Danny, have you ever considered why ghosts can go intangible at all?”

The unexpected question took him aback. “I...I always assumed it was a natural ghost ability.” He admitted as he scratched the back of his head in thought.

Changing to his elderly form, the hooded ghost nodded. “And it is, but not without reason.” Next he floated over one of the many portals he used to oversee the passage of time. With a snap of his fingers, the portal began broadcasting many different instances where Danny or some other ghost had turned intangible. “You see, when we ghosts become intangible, what we do is tap into the Ghost Zone while we’re away from it. That is to say our bodies travel through dimensions.” With a movement of his staff, the image changed to show the times he, Tucker, and, surprisingly, Lady Arcana had phased through the walls. “That’s also why humans can phase through things in our world; even if their bodies are here, their essence never left Earth…”

As his mind connected the dots, the halfa’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “...making them lose their physical mass when in touch with things from our world!” He finished, amazed, and from beside the portal Clockwork nodded sagely. “But what about witches?”

The portal abruptly stopped its broadcast. It was almost as if Clockwork didn’t want to show him anything related to Lady Arcana’s people. With that in mind, Danny feared for a second the master of time would choose that moment to close himself off and say nothing more, but luckily, he proved him wrong. “In terms of physical form, witches are still human, but their magic is something completely different.

“As the only human beings capable of tapping into their own essence, their animas are multidimensional, which is why the Witch Queen’s magic affected youーits’ capable of surpassing the laws of physics because it’s not bound to any particular dimension…”

“...just its holder!” Danny gasped out as understanding dawned on him, things were finally starting to make sense. “So you’re saying witches are akin to electricity generators? They depend on no one but themselves to do magic?”

“Pretty much.”

“Wow.” He breathed out, a hand outstretched and blindly looking for support until it met the wall. Noticing his king’s dazed estate, Frostbite hurried to his side to steady him as Danny slowly sat down on the floor. “This...this is a lot.”

“And it’s only the beginning.” The Ghost of Time let out cryptically. Danny would have to remember to think about the meaning of that later on, for now he’d already absorbed too much information in too little time. When his brain finally processed enough information for him to properly function, the green-eyed ghost stood to his feet on his own, thanking Frostbite for his help. “Thank you, Clockwork. You were a huge help today. I know how hard it is for you to reveal anything due to the nature of your job.”

“Don’t get used to it, boy.” The hooded ghost warned, the knowing smirk back on his face. “I’m only doing what I consider best for this timeline. Don’t think spelling things out for you will be the answer to all your problems from now on.”

Despite his words, the smile on Danny’s face didn’t fall. It’d have been foolish to expect anything else from Clockwork, after all. “Well, thanks anyways. See you, Clockwork.” He waved him goodbye as he took off in the opposite direction, this time heading for the Fenton Ghost Portal; today was far from over.

Having been left alone with the Ghost of Time, Frostbite approached him. “Lord Clockwork, are we certain we are on the right path for salvation?”

“Trust me, old friend,” a child Clockwork said as he ventured further inside his lair, a different portal opening before his deceivingly innocent, round face, the events being displayed in it pleasing him greatly, “everything is as it should be.”

...........

The FentonWorks sign loomed over her like a bad omen. Looking up to the enormous metallic construction welded to the more average-looking, brick building where Danny and his family lived, Sam couldn’t help but subconsciously grip the straps of her spider backpack tighter. Her stomach churning in nervousness, she lifted one hand up to knock on the door…

And, unable to bring herself to do so, let it hang in mid-air for a good ten minutes.

Dear God, if anyone saw her lurking around the Fentons’ door they’d think she was some weird stalker who was crazier than they claimed the family to be, or a potential client who needed help hunting a ghost. So basically they’d think she was crazier than they claimed the family to be either way.

One would think the only family of ghost hunters in town would be held in much higher regard after seven years of consistent ghost attacks, but rumour has it their equipment tended to malfunction or make things more difficult for everyone. Sam remembered one particularly funny, but understandably embarrassing, story Danny had told her about his parents’ accidentally humiliating his English teacher on more than one occasion. And since Mr. Lancer couldn’t punish two adults, he took his frustrations out on their innocent son who had repeatedly stated he wanted nothing to do with the family business.

Add to that the presence of an all-around more powerful and more competent town hero with actual ghost powers, and it was safe to say their credibility had taken a few major blows over the years.

At first she’d worried about their financial situation. Who wouldn’t? They were professional ghost hunters but nobody took them seriously and any possible job they might have had was immediately handled by a far more efficient superhero who, to top it all, worked for free. With that in mind you’d expect them to have been evicted years ago! But Danny had been quick to reassure her and explain things to her. Yes, his parents’ passion was ectology and ghost-hunting, but they were primarily inventors and, even if their ecto-weapons could sometimes use some work, their more mundane inventions were typically sold like pancakes. So they were fine.

She sighed at the memory. Oh, Danny…

Hard as she tried, she still hadn’t managed to shake the flutter in her chest off whenever she thought of him or something happened between them. No. Scratch that. She didn’t get that feeling when ‘something’ happened between them, because nothing ever happened between them! All those weird, little instances where her heart would malfunction after twenty-one years in peak condition were perfectly normal occurrences that shouldn’t send her heart running.

They would simultaneously reach for the same thing, causing their hands to brush against each other. Their eyes would meet and she’d spend seconds that could have perfectly stretched into hours over-analysing every little thing she thought was going on behind them because she suddenly wanted to know everything about Danny. When that happened it’d usually be followed by the both of them hurriedly looking away and Sam feeling bashful for some reason, heat rising to her cheeks.

And none of those reactions made sense because that was not the way one would react to their friend!

Those were all completely normal occurrences between friends. It was normal to want the same thing at the same time. It was only natural to look your friend in the eyes. And it made sense that you’d want to look away if you think you’ve been staring a little too long because anyone would feel uncomfortable by that.

What didn’t make sense was the gnawing feeling at the back of her head telling her those little, insignificant moments meant so much more than that!

And now that she was beginning to think she’d misjudged Phantom? Now that she looked at him in a different light and noticed some of his...let’s say...more appealing features, both in terms of physique and personality? Now that her heart was beginning to malfunction at the thought of him too?

Now Sam was seriously contemplating putting an end to her misery and burning herself at the stake.

Either that or go see a doctor in case she had some sort of untreatable heart disease.

Regardless of the very strange position she now found herself in, Sam’s resolve in finding more about ghosts was genuine. Her and Phantom’s reactions to her magic being able to reach him even when intangible was proof enough that far too much knowledge on their people’s old friendship had been regrettably forgotten.

The black hole incident demonstrated there probably was more to their partnership and combined abilities than what had been passed down to the younger generations. If Sam could find solid evidence on an unexplained synchrony between magic and ghostly attributes, then maybe her current alliance with the Ghost King wouldn’t be futile after all.

Maybe it even held the key to solving the portal crisis they faced off against…

The witch was abruptly broken out of her trail of thought when the door she’d been standing in front of for fifteen minutes suddenly opened, Danny’s head curiously poking around and eyes darting from one side to the other, clearly looking for something…

...or someone.

As soon as their eyes met, the two of them let out startled sounds and subconsciously took a step back in surprise. Unfortunately for Sam, seeing as she was standing on the steps leading up to the door, her foot slipped when it found nowhere to stand on. Losing her balance, she was sure she was going to fall when Danny immediately rushed in to help her, his strong arms swiftly coming to grab her by her waist, their faces mere inches apart.

Against her better judgement, the hazel-eyed girl couldn’t do anything to prevent losing herself in Danny’s baby blue depths. Certainly, nobody would blame her, not when their breaths mingled from the close proximity, or when his eyes reflected a worry she’d rarely seen beforeーhe was worried for her, she realised with a little too much gleeー, or when they were so, so close all she had to do was inch her head forward just a little to close the distance and feel those hypnotising lips of his onー.

“Uh...what’s going on here?”

Slowly, very slowly, even comically so, the two turned their heads to the direction of the voice. Only to find Jazz propped against the doorframe behind her brother and flashing them a very interested look, a smile dancing along her lips.

The effect was instantaneous. The two scrambled to get away from each other, almost as if they’d suddenly realised the other was made out of hot lava and they were burning their hands, muttering excuses and such other nonsense Jazz chose to ignore completely.

Oh, denial. Simultaneously one of the most entertaining and frustrating stages of admitting you like someone.

Clearing his throat, Danny was the first one to find his voice, even though his cheeks still burned. “S-Sam! It’s great to see you! I was starting to believe you couldn’t make it in the end.”

“Oh! No, no.” She shook her head slightly with a hand raised up. “I’m sorry I made you wait, I, uh, I just had a little trouble finding the place. That’s all.” Fine, so saying she had trouble finding the one house in town with a humongous Ops Centre on its roof was a terrible lie, but no way in Hell was she going to say she found the place just fine but she took a few extra minutes with her hand raised about to knock on the door but finding herself unable to.

That was just pathetic.

The slightly irritating grin never leaving her face, Jazz ushered their guest in. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you.” She let herself be guided through the doorstep to the kitchen, which, judging by the outline of some furniture she could vaguely make out, Sam guessed led to the living room. The space was a large and bright-coloured room that combined a somewhat retro 50’s style with far newer appliances and...was that a toxic-waste container?

“That’s our version of tupperware with leftovers.” Danny came to stand beside her and now Sam was wondering if she’d just said that aloud or if he could read minds. When he looked down at her, though, his expression was dead serious. “If you value your life, don’t open it.”

“Duly noted.”

She was about to ask where she could sit down when the younger sibling moved a chair for her, gesturing at it with a flourish and flashing her a charming smile. “M’lady, this way, please.”

Rolling her eyes fondly, Sam took his hand and allowed him to help her sit, setting her spider backpack on top of the kitchen table. Once he was comfortably sitting on his own chair by her side, she swatted his arm in mock warning. “Just so you know, I’m only letting you treat me like ‘a lady,’” she air-quoted, “because, as your guest, is the right thing to do.”

“I’m much obliged, Miss Manson.” Danny countered with a fake posh accent.

Before the girl could so much as flick him on the nose, Jazz came inside carrying a plate full of cookies. “Care for one, Sam?”

Eying the plate carefully, she had to decline the offer. “Thank you, but I’m good.” In truth she couldn’t be sure the cookies were vegan, but saying she wasn’t hungry was much more polite than imposing her dietary choices on them.

Sensing her discomfort, Danny smacked his forehead as realisation washed over him. “Duh, that’s right!” Startled by his outburst the two girls turned to look at him, exchanging confused glances. “You’re ultra-recyclo-vegetarian! I’m sorry, Sam. I forgot. I don’t think we have anything for you.”

Bringing one hand to her mouth, Jazz gasped. “Darn! That’s right. I’m so sorry, Sam; it totally slipped my mind.”

Her mind still reeling from Danny, once again, remembering something about her, she didn’t have the heart to say anything. “It’s okay, really. As I said, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Danny insisted. “Because I’m sure we have something around here you might be able to eat…” He trailed off, clearly thinking about what they had that Sam could possibly consume without breaking her moral code. Biting down his lip, he tried, “How about water?”

The Goth girl couldn’t help but snort. “ A tempting offer. I might take you up on it.”

“I’ll get you a glass.” As he got up to do just that, his older sister finally took notice of the purple spider resting on the table.

“Wow.” She breathed out, clearly impressed. “You have quite a collection of badges on your bag!”

“Oh, this?” Sam pointed at the assortment of metallic, glinting badges adorning her faithful spider’s fur. “They’re mostly from charities and previous protests I’ve been in.” She explained. “You could say when something matters a lot to me, I make sure to give it a place of honour.”

“Cool, just make sure my father doesn’t see or he’ll shove a handful of Fenton badges your way.”

“‘Fenton badges’?”

“They’re regular badges with the word ‘Fenton’ on them.” Danny explained quickly, setting down a glass of water before Sam just as he regained his seat.

After her brother helped himself to some cookies, Jazz left the plate on the counter before picking a seat for herself. She propped her elbows on the kitchen table, her fingers intertwined and her eyes staring at the Goth seriously from behind her hands. The image reminded Sam of the principals from high school based sitcoms whenever the protagonists got in trouble.

The mental image only made her feel like she’d got in trouble.

“Uh...is everything okay?” She asked carefully.

“Everything’s fine, Sam.” Danny assured her with a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. That only worried the girl further. “We’re just morally obligated to warn you about a few things first.”

“Such as…?” Sam eyed the Fenton siblings suspiciously, her skin prickling at their uncharacteristically odd behaviour.

“Such as our parents' eccentricities.” Jazz finished, her voice completely serious. “Don’t get us wrong, Sam; our parents are talented inventors and passionate ghost hunters...” She trailed off, having trouble explaining things to an outsider. They never really had to explain their family’s antics to anybody else, they all knew; the difference lay in how they processed the information. So far, the entire town bar Tucker thought of them as kooks.

“But they’re so passionate they tend to overlook things.” Danny added.

“Especially if they don’t fit their agenda...” Jazz muttered darkly, probably thinking nobody heard. But she was mistaken.

Sam was legitimately taken aback by the unexpected venom laced in Jazz’s statement. Even though this was only the second time she got to meet the eldest Fenton sibling, their last encounter seemed to indicate Jazz was the type of person who always measured her words. Straight-laced, careful, mature...Maybe even calculating under the right circumstances. She seemed to place great importance on not letting her emotions show, for some reason. But, seemingly, their parents’ job was a sore spot for her.

As her mind went back to their conversation at Verde Que Te Quiero Verde, Sam found herself thinking she couldn’t blame Jazz for her low opinion on their parents’ chosen career. Who wouldn’t grow resentful of a career path that, judging by Danny’s stories, not only had it brought shame and embarrassment onto their children their whole lives, but also led them to being neglected in favour of something most people didn’t even know existed until recently?

As much as she’d personally wished her mother would leave her alone growing up, Sam knew what emotional neglect felt like all too well.

“I see.” She said finally, taking extra care in not letting her thoughts shine through. She needed to appear nonchalant, willing to listen. “So, what should I know?”

Danny and Jazz exchanged a look, silently discussing how to approach the topic. Understandably, Danny had been taken by surprise when Sam asked if she could come over and talk about ghosts. After all, who in their right mind wanted to talk about ghosts? Most citizens would just watch him fight them, sneer at him once the battle was over, and exclaim ‘good riddance!’ before turning on their heels to go back to their monotonous lives.

The only exceptions to the norm were Team Phantom (and even they’d only started showing interest begrudgingly, since they had no other choice), Danny Phantom’s fan club, and Valerie in her early days as a ghost hunterーnow that she thought she knew everything about mischievous spirits she could possibly need, she’d become more of an ‘attack first, questions never’ kinda gal.

Luckily for Danny, the moment she noticed his blank expression, she was quick to explain it was her Gothic nature talking. Her passion for the paranormal and occult just couldn’t miss the opportunity of getting to know more from the town’s resident experts.

Now, if only said experts weren’t almost as single-minded as a certain Red Huntress…

He wasn’t sure why, but a part of Danny just couldn’t bear the thought of Sam disliking ghostsーdisliking your ghost half, you meanーthe same way Valerie or his parents did. She was one of the most accepting people he’d met in a long time, he wouldn’t know what to do if Danny Phantom jeopardised that like it jeopardised his relationship with Valerie.

That was why it was so important she understood! If he and Jazz could get through to her before their parents started feeding her their very anti-ghost ideas, then maybe he wouldn’t lose another person to Amity Park’s almost unanimous anti-ghost sentiment. He wouldn’t have to pretend to be somebody he was not in front of somebody else he cared about.

With a nod of his head, Danny allowed Jazz to take the floor. “First and foremost, you should know our parents are far better in practice than in theory.”

Sam blinked, not following. “I don’t think I understand…”

“It’s just,” Jazz started, biting her lip, her hands fidgeting as she tried to find the right words to say, “they know the basics, you see? They know everything on how to take down a ghost and apply that knowledge to their inventions...with varying results,” she muttered that last part to herself. “But we don’t think they really understand what makes a ghost tick, you know what I mean?”

The Goth could only stare blankly at her, her brow furrowed in confusion. “But you just said they know how to take down ghosts...Doesn’t that mean they know what makes them tick?”

“What Jazz means is they don’t understand their motivations.” Danny corrected. “To our parents, all ghosts care about is causing mayhem and destruction, but not all ghosts can possibly be like that, can they?”

Although it was phrased like a question, there was something about the way he said it that made Sam see it as anything but. The certainty in his voice, the almost manic glint in his eyes askingーno, beggingーher to understand. It wasn’t mere, hopeful speculation. As much as Danny liked seeing the good in people, he wasn’t just giving ghosts the benefit of the doubt; it was like he knew they were far more than just ectoplasmic remnants of human conscience.

Still, despite everything, her mouth started talking before her brain had time to catch up. “But do they even have any motivation at all?” She didn’t know why, but she felt like wincing when Danny’s hopeful expression turned dejected. Like a kicked puppy. “I mean, all ghosts do whenever they come to Amity Park is cause some sort of trouble or even go as far as plotting world domination.”

Why did she say that? Wasn’t she trying to give the spectres the benefit of the doubt as well? She explicitly came here for answers that’d justify her sudden belief, her sudden need to believe, ghosts weren’t as evil as she’d been told. She was looking for that same reason that led her ancestors to trusting and forming a solid alliance with them all those centuries ago.

Why was her mind trying to sabotage that?

Sensing his brother’s discomfort, Jazz was quick to step in. For reasons he wasn’t ready to admit, it was important Sam was on their side. “Take Danny Phantom, for instance,” she said, seemingly unaware of the way Sam’s breath hitched at the mention of his name. “Nobody knows what he’s up to, but for all intents and purposes, he seems to only care about protecting Amity Park.”

“That 's...true.” The Goth admitted, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she thought of the town’s controversial hero. “Except for a few incidents, he only ever appears if the town’s in danger.”

Sam didn’t say much, she was just stating the obvious. But hearing her admit he was trying to save Amity Park rather than destroy or rule it brought a grin to Danny’s face. “Our parents don’t get that. For them, it’s more like, ‘you’ve seen one ghost, you’ve seen them all’”, as he explained their parents’ mindset, Danny’s voice took on a deeper tone, causing Sam to guess he was making an imitation of his dad’s voice. “They don’t think Phantom, or any ghost for that matter, can be anything other than trouble.”

A dark, heavy cloud seemed to settle over the raven haired boy’s shoulders. His ocean blue eyes lost their shine, the corners of his lips turned upside down, and he suddenly looked much older than he really was. He seemed so...tired. As if he were carrying a huge weight over his shoulders and were exhausted from it.

“They…” he began to say before he had to swallow the bitter lump in his throat. It was so difficult to get the words out, knowing what they entailed, without getting emotional. But Sam couldn’t possibly know just how much it all affected him. She just couldn’t. “They dehumanise them.”

Sam could only stand looking at Danny for a few more seconds before she had to avert her gaze, focusing on the kitchen counter instead as she bit down her lip guiltily. He looked so...un-Danny. She began picking at her nails as she realised his parents weren’t all that different from her; not even a week prior she’d also been convinced ghosts were nothing more than ectoplasmic scum. Cold, unfeeling, wicked. Even now, even as she came to understand she should give them a chance, she found herself having trouble trying to move on from that mindset her people had spent a good chunk of her life getting into her head.

Hating ghosts was second nature at this point.

“I…” Sam started weakly, clearing her throat to give herself a few more seconds to compose herself. This was going to be hard. “I think I understand. It’s like all those movies, isn’t it?” She said, her voice tinged with a lightness she didn’t quite feel. “Like...like those stories with over-complicated plots that can, ultimately, be summarised by ‘don’t judge a book by its cover,’ right?”

Actually getting the words out was proving itself to be a Herculean task. She didn’t even know what she was saying. Referencing one of the oldest tropes to ever exist? Really? No matter how hard she was trying for the sake of her alliance with Phantomーand not because, for whatever reason, she now wanted to believe he couldn’t possibly be as bad as she initially thought. No wayー, literally all ghosts that’d ever visited Amity Park except for the Ghost King had questionable morals, at best, or were downright diabolical, at worst.

Just trying to get the words out made her stomach tighten!

But then she looked over to Danny from underneath her eyelashes, feeling too shy and unsure for her comfort, and her breath hitched.

Danny was positively glowing. For reasons Sam couldn’t understand, having someone try to see things eye to eye with him meant the world to Danny. The way his expression softened when he looked at her was almost too much to bearーher cheeks felt like they were on fire, but Sam still had half the mind to understand suddenly splashing her face with her, mostly untouched, glass of water would make some eyebrows raise in bewilderment.

Her heart pounding in her ears and her mind screaming at her not to do anything weird or out-of-place (in a disturbingly similar voice to her mother), the hazel-eyed girl reached a hand across the table and rested it on top of Danny’s, who jolted in his seat upon making contact. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to keep an open mind.” She said softly, smiling at him.

His mind reeling from the feeling of Sam’s warm hand over his cold palm, Danny let out an almost inaudible gasp, his eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling. But as he registered her promise, he couldn’t help himself from giving her hand a gentle squeeze, his face morphing itself into an adoring expression as his heart did somersaults in his chest cavity.

Where have you been all my life?

Startled by his own thought process, Danny roughly snatched his hand away from Sam’s, under her slightly hurt gazeーwhich she immediately tried to cover upーand Jazz’s questioning eyes. Before he could try and dwell on his thoughts, however, a booming voice came from down the lab and progressively made its way upstairs.

“Sorry we’re late!” Jack’s jovial voice came from the staircase. “We were finishing up some last minute adjustments.”

“Our latest invention promises to be our greatest one yet!” A feminine voice said excitedly. Sam could only guess that was Mrs. Fenton.

“There’s still much to be done, of course. But as soon as we work out a few twerks and we’re done designing the general outline, everything else will go smoothly.” Coming in before her husband, Maddie moved easily around her kitchen, going over to the fridge to grab some fudge for Jack before reaching up for some plates from the cupboard. She kept waltzing around the kitchen table and her children, so engrossed in her retelling she failed to notice the ebony haired girl sitting down beside them. “You kids haven’t touched the container unit with the ecto-weenies, haveー?” She trailed off abruptly, something far more interesting than her home’s ecto-induced food catching her eye the moment she turned around to finally face her kids.

There, sitting around her kitchen table, right next to her son, was both the most unique and beautiful girl she’d ever seen him with. Any other mother would be taken aback to see her son with a girl with a side of her head shaved off and dyed purple and green (albeit only the little ponytail sticking out), wearing enough dark clothes to be confused with a mortician or someone in mourning, and heavy, dark make-up coating her face.

But not Maddie Fenton.

Oh no.

Aside from being a ghost hunterーa career path that was, regrettably, not held in high regard by her entourageー, meaning she wasn’t one to judge others’ live choices, Maddie was just shocked to see her son with a girl. Period.

The last time she’d ever even heard him gush about how pretty a girl was was in his Freshman year of high school. First over that Paulina Sanchez who, going by what Jazz told her, was Casper High’s beauty queenーit was only natural her teenage son would have a phase where he was after the head cheerleader; just like Jazz had a phase where she was into that motorcycle-riding bad boy with greasy hair.

Whatever happened to that boy?

And a few months after that he seemed smitten with Valerie Gray, the daughter of Damon Gray; a former security expert at Axion Labs that’d helped them during the whole ordeal with the Ghost King. A pleasant man, but even he didn’t seem to hold them in high esteem.

They went out several times all throughout the extent of two weeks, but just as she was about ready to squeal and tackle his little man for getting his first girlfriend and growing up, one day he dejectedly told them Valerie thought it best to remain friends.

Ever since then, romance all but became a taboo topic around Danny.

Aside from a few times he’d tell them he had a date (which never seemed to lead anywhere), not a peep could be heard out of him when it came to girls. Ever since he was well into his Freshman year, at the tender age of fourteen bordering fifteen, girl-talk became nonexistent.

And, Maddie had to admit, there was a time she came to believe her son never brought girls up because he just wasn’t interested in them. Seeing as the only other person he ever spent time with was Tucker, Maddie once thought Danny was gay but too afraid to come out, fearing they might disown him or something.

Only for that little theory to burn up in flames when she tried letting him know she knew and fully supported himーto which Danny almost choked to death on his breakfast, before fervently denying any sort of romantic relationship with his best friend.

He swore up and down the reason he never brought up the topic of romance was because there wasn’t anyone he was interested in. Something he religiously followed, never even talking about a girl (or boy, Maddie still kept that possibility open) who he’d simply come to think was pretty in passing.

Until now.

Now there was a lovely young lady in her kitchen. Sitting right beside her baby, who looked as embarrassed as if he were a teenager again and was being bombarded with a thousand photos of him and his date for Homecoming. Now, Maddie wasn’t quite knowledgeable on street fashion and subcultures as she’d been back in college, but just by looking at this girl (who was staring, wide-eyed, right back at her) she could tell she used her clothes to express herself and her individuality.

She knew who she was or, at least, who she wanted to be. Good.

Straightening her back slightly, Maddie tried to put the girl at ease using her most motherly tone. “Oh, hello there!” She walked over to her and reached out her hand for her to shake. She noted with pleasure she had a firm yet gentle grip. Oh, dear God, please let this girl be the one for Danny! “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Maddie, Danny and Jazz’s mother.”

“Oh! Uh…” With a start, she smiled back at the kind woman in front of her, albeit feeling a little awkward. “I’m Sam. I’m friends with Dannyーnice to meet you.”

“Believe me, Sam,” Maddie’s grin widened, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, probably from the countless hours of etiquette classes her mother had drilled into her head, Sam jumped to her feet to greet the woman before her properly.

The Goth was in awe at the sight before her. Mrs Fenton had to be a woman in her late-forties to early-fifties, given she’d given birth to two kids who were now in their early twenties, and yet she didn’t look a year over thirty. She had to be one of the most beautiful women she’d ever met, with her auburn bob cut that had only the tiniest hints of a grey hair or two; her smooth, wrinkle-free face that’d make Pamela sick with envyーshe’d spent a fortune on skincare products and even then she didn’t look nearly as young as Danny’s mother; and she had to have the best figure she’d ever seen, even after given birth twice! As unorthodox a piece of clothing as it was, her blue hazmat suit hugged her body perfectly, accentuating all her curves. Mrs Fenton was probably only second to Delilah in terms of voluptuousness, but seriously, that woman was basically a goddess walking on Earth. And her deep, purple eyes hid a mixture of motherly warmth and care as well as an intelligence and sharpness rivaled only by Grandma Ida.

It was funny, Sam noted. Had Mrs Fenton been born a witch, and she probably would be ruling the coven now, not her.

“And I’m Jack Fenton, nice to meet you kiddo!” Danny’s father exclaimed, trapping Sam’s hand in a deadly grip. He was shaking her hand so enthusiastically Sam was genuinely surprised he wasn’t shaking her up and down like a rag doll.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr Fenton.” She said, taking a good look at the man who’d raised Danny.

Mr Fenton was...how could she put this gently? The opposite of his wife. He wasn’t ugly by any means! But while Maddie looked like she could be on the cover of a fashion magazine, he was a rather plain-looking fellow. Jack was a man of great girth, although not necessarily overweight; he certainly had enough energy to get an electric plant running with nothing but his personality. Clad in a large, orange hazmat suit that somehow both matched and clashed horribly with his wife’s more classy blue, his age was far more apparent. Perhaps he didn’t look like he had a foot on the other door, but the years hadn’t been as kind to him as they’d been to Mrs Fenton. He still had a full head of hair, but his sideburns and his nape were already stark white, while the hair on his head kept some colourーa dark grey. The little bit of skin Sam could see (mostly his face, really), with his strong, squared jaw, was mostly unblemished, except for crow’s feet around his round eyes. He definitely didn’t look too old, just...older than his wife.

Even then, Sam could still make out enough details that showed this was Danny’s dad.

At first glance it seemed both Fenton kids took mostly after their mother (a never-ending source of comfort for them, she was sure), but there was enough of Jack’s genes in their appearance to tell the kinship.

Judging from his mop of grey hair, Sam figured he used to have black hair, not unlike his son’s messy locks. If she looked closely, the girl could make out Mr Fenton’s eyes; a dark shade of greyish blue, similar to Danny’s icy stare and Jazz’s inquisitive, aqua eyes. And last but not least, there was the issue with their height. Mr Fenton was huge! Probably the tallest member of the family, and that was saying something. Even Danny, standing at an impressive 5’9, was towered over by his dad. Jazz took after her mum in that regard, thank Goodness.

So, summing up.

A lovely, genius daughter working on her PhD; a charming, witty, hot-as-Hell (who said that?!) son about to work with NASA; a mother who was both gorgeous and another genius, and a huge father who might not be George Clooney but seemed to be a very decent human being (and, considering he was an expert ectologist and inventor, another genius to boot).

What was this, the over-achieving family? A family specifically designed to excel in everything her own family already didn’t hold a candle to anyone to?! And did she really have to be so short in comparison!?

As much as the stereotypically girly part of herself she worked so hard to push down squealed over a healthy height difference between a possible boyfriend and her, the number of inches Danny had on her was just ridiculous. And now it turns out his entire family is better than hers one way or another. Unless she performed magic in their very kitchen, Sam had no idea how she could possibly impress her in-laws. Ever.

And, she realised with a start, her mind was veering into insane territory again… She rationalised she was just thinking it’d be very difficult for her to impress the Fentons if she were to date Danny. Which she wasn’t going to do. Ever. They were just friends and her life was too complicated to even be thinking about romance right now. Besides, she’d never be able to live with herself knowing she’d have to keep her partner (be it Danny or someone else entirely) in the dark about a huge aspect of her life.

Danny deserved way better than the kind of life her dad was stuck with.

Almost as if sensing her inner monologue, Jack almost gave her a heart attack when he spoke next. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Sam. We thought it’d be Tucker who Danno would bring over.” He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder and brought her closer to him. “So imagine our surprise when we see you here! We might’ve been a little too overzealous about it.”

“A little?” Sam heard Jazz whisper to her brother, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“That’s right,” Maddie agreed, her smile so wide her cheeks hurt and a sense of impending doom gripped her son’s heart. “It’s just been so long since Danny last brought a girlfriend home, and so beautiful too!”

His cheeks practically on fire, Danny was quick to shout, panicking, “She’s not my girlfriend!”, at the same time as Sam, equally embarrassed, exclaimed, “I’m not his girlfriend!”

The Fenton matriarch’s good mood deflated a little at that. “You’re not?”

“No, Mum. She’s not.” Danny confirmed as he scrubbed his face with one hand. Why was it that every time he brought home someone other than Tucker they immediately assumed he must’ve found the womanーor man, Tucker never let him live that one downーhe was going to marry? It wasn’t like he was such a recluse, was it? ...on second thought, better not answer that. “I already told you a friend was interested in meeting you, you told me you were okay with it and, well,” he said with some sarcasm in his voice as he extended his arms to his sides, making a flourish, “here she is.”

“Well, yeah. But when you said ‘friend’ we thought you meant Tucker, son.” His dad admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“I have more friends aside from Tuck, you know?”

If his parents immediately assuming Sam was his girlfriend and openly addressing her as such right in front of her hadn’t been mortifying enough, the deafening silence that settled in the kitchen then certainly was.

Was he really that much of a loser his parents didn’t seriously believe him capable of making friends with people outside of Tucker? Granted, most of his friendsーDora, Wulf, Frostbite, Cujo…ーwere the very same creatures from another dimension they’d sworn to hunt down, strap to a lab table, and dissect ‘molecule by molecule’, so they couldn’t possibly know about them. But come on!

Grimacing at the uncomfortable, and a little humiliating, atmosphere, Jazz cleared her throat to catch their parents’ attention. “I think what Danny means is that, if he’d really wanted to invite Tucker over, he wouldn’t have even asked your permission for it.” The moment her mum and dad crossed their arms over their chests and sent her a disapproving look due to the way she’d just disregarded their authority she was quick to backpedal. “A-after all, he practically spends more time here than in his own house! And he’s ever really been into ghosts to begin with, so…”

Jazz had a point. Maddie sighed through her nose, a little disappointed. “I guess you’re right.” Her expression turned cheery again almost instantaneously, clapping her hands before her face as she redirected her focus on the hazel-eyed girl still standing awkwardly near her kitchen table. “So! Sam, Danny’s told us you wanted to meet us, why’s that?”

“It’s not to place another restraining order on us, is it?” Her husband asked dubiously, his eyes narrowing on the young lady in suspicion.

Jazz facepalmed herself while Danny was too busy all but slamming his head against the table.

“Whaー? No, of course not.” Sam assured him, shaking her head and hands in front of her as it to emphasise her point. “I, uh, I asked Danny if I could come meet you because I’m really interested in the paranormal and such. I’m a Goth; you see,” she gestured vaguely at her form, “it sort of comes with the aesthetic. So when he told me you guys were ghost hunters I couldn’t help myself; I just had to meet you.”

Before the Goth knew it, the enormous man she’d been talking to grabbed her around the shoulders with just one arm and, with impressive strength, lifted her up off the floor, a broad smile playing along his lips. “Don’t tell me you want to get in the business?” He asked with the same excitement of a kid on Christmas.

“N-not r-really…” she gasped out, the force behind Mr. Fenton’s grasp knocking the air out of her lungs. “I-I’m just...really c-curious...t-that’s all…”

Panicking at the sight of Sam’s face turning blue, Danny jumped to his feet, followed closely by Jazz. “Dad, put her down!” In the blink of an eye he was by his dad’s side, gently coaching the raven haired girl out of his bone-crushing grip. The moment her feet touched the floor, Sam began taking greedy gulps of air, her hand in Danny’s firm but gentle ones and Jazz patting her back comfortingly.

“Careful, honey.” Mrs Fenton scolded her husband lightheartedly, “You know you tend to get carried away.”

“Right. Sorry about that, Sam.”

Too breathless to dignify that with a verbal answer, Sam limited herself to giving him a thumbs-up.

“How about we cut to the chase and you guys show Sam what you’re working on, huh?” Jazz suggested, one hand still rubbing her guest’s back soothingly. If after today Sam insisted on being friends with her brother, he would have a lifetime of making it up to her.

“Great idea, Jazzypants!” Jack exclaimed excitedly. He and his wife then proceeded to usher their kids and guest out of the kitchen and down to the lab.

Sam miraculously caught herself before she could snort. ‘Danno’? ‘Jazzypants’? She would’ve laughed at the ridiculous nicknames hadn’t she remembered her mother’s horrendous habit of calling her ‘Sammy-kins.’

Did everything that woman do have to bring nothing but pain and misery to her daughter?

Walking down the stairs to what the witch could only assume was the lab Jazz mentioned earlier, Maddie turned her head around slightly so she could look at Sam as she asked over her shoulder. “I don’t think we’ve asked you about your family, dear; not even about your full name.”

“It’s Manson, Sam Manson. My parents…”she trailed off, making a grimace. “Let’s just say in twenty-one years of existence I’ve never been able to understand what they do for a living.” That wasn’t technically a lie. Even if Sam was perfectly aware of her mother’s double life as a witch (mostly because she was destined to follow in her footsteps), the financial side of things always eluded her. For all she knew her dad could be a smuggler.

“Wait, ‘Manson’?” It was Jack’s turn to turn his head to face her, an bushy eyebrow raised in surprise. “You mean like that stinking rich family living in the uptown part of town?”

Now it was Maddie’s face that lit up in realisation. “Oh, that’s right! Danny and Jazz did mention something like that when they came back from their night out.”

Sam shot Danny and Jazz a dirty look, to which they responded by smiling awkwardly in return and whistling a happy tune while averting all sorts of eye contact, respectively; “You know, before I knew you my family’s wealth was one of my best-kept secrets. Now it’s got to a point where I’ll be walking down the street and some random kid will point out at me and say, ‘Look, mummy! Look! It’s that rich girl!’”

“Come on, Sam,” a devilish smirk made its way to Danny’s face. “You’re making things up.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it actually happened.”

Stepping down the last step to the basement, Jack extended his arms high in the air as he announced, “Here we are! The Fenton Lab!”

The moment she descended to the basement and was able to see the family lab for the first time, Sam’s jaw all but touched the floor. Strolling down inside the spacious laboratory, she couldn’t help but spin around, trying to find every single nook and secret laying right before her, marvelling at the sight.

The Fenton Lab was a greyish room with metal-covered walls and a tiled floor that occupied the entirety of the basement. Various machines whose workings Sam could only guess littered around the room, alongside several lab tables filled to the brim with test tubes, trays, notes, and neon-green liquids pulled up to the walls, as well as different beeping monitors.

But what had to be, by far, the most impressive device in the entire lab was the large, octogonal gates standing in the far corner of the room. They were currently closed, their yellow and black striped doors in full display, and the big, red lightbulb Sam suspected would blink when used was turned off resting on top of it.

Taking a step closer, one hand pointing at the machine, she breathed out in awe, “Whoa...What’s that?”

“You have a good eye!” Maddie complimented as she came to stand right beside her guest. One hand directed at their most prized invention and the other on her hip, it was obvious she was about to give a lecture worthy of any college professor. “This is the Fenton Ghost Portal. Our greatest invention yet.”

The Goth’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. “The Fenton Ghost Portal…?” She echoed, astonished.

The hazmat clad lady hummed in response. “That’s right. This baby is our pride and joy; a little pipe dream we’ve had since college. Isn’t that right, Jack?”

“You got it, baby!” Mr Fenton agreed, crossing his arms with a proud smile on his face. “Except there’s nothing impossible about this beauty. Dreams do come true!”

“Although,” Maddie added, a grim look on her face, “we almost indefinitely put the project on hold after...an unfortunate accident back in our Sophomore year in Wisconsin University.”

Taking advantage of the distance between them, Sam, and their parents, Danny leaned in closer to Jazz to whisper in her ear, “Unfortunate in more ways than one.” If only his parents knew that day they created a monster...Although the time he travelled through time to their college days proved nothing could’ve prevented Vlad from turning into the frootloop he was today. The monster inside him had nothing to do with his ghost half.

Unaware of the exchange taking place between the siblings, the Goth girl asked, “An accident? What happened?”

“The prototype malfunctioned and ended up blasting good ol’ Vladdie in the face.” Jack explained, a distant look in his eyes.

“Maybe if he hadn’t stuck his face right in front of the working portal, none of that would’ve happened…” Danny muttered darkly for Jazz’s ears only.

“Or at least worn safety goggles.” His sister whispered back.

Their father went on, not having heard a word that was said between his children. “The exposure to the ecto-chemicals gave him a nasty case of ecto-acne that had him hospitalised for years. It took him over twenty years to forgive me.” He said sadly, only to immediately brighten up the next second. As someone who came from a family that usually only emoted silent judgement, fake cheer, or total apathy, Sam was having a bit of a hard time trying to catch up to all of Mr Fenton’s many emotions. “But we finally patched things up seven years ago and now we’re all buddies again!”

Danny smiled in satisfaction at the way his mum’s posture stiffened up, her arms crossed defensively in front of her, and her forehead creased in aggravation. “‘Buddies’ might be a bit of a stretch…” she mumbled angrily, before taking on a more neutral tone, “I don’t know Jack. I still think the years have turned Vlad into a bit of a freak.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, baby!” Her husband whined. “You’d be a little eccentric too if you spent all of your time alone inside a big, lonely mansion like he does!”

“I can attest to that…” Sam muttered to herself as she hugged herself, her eyes on the floor, years of lonely memories coming back in full force. Then she realised, “Wait, did you just say your friend lives in a big mansion all by himself?”

“I wouldn’t say all by himself,” Danny chimed in. “He has a cat keeping him company.”

Ignoring him, she pressed on, “And you said his name was Vlad?”

“That we did! Our good ol’ friend Vlad Masters!” Jack confirmed with a huge grin on his face. His was the only smiling face amongst his family. Something told Sam Mr. Masters hadn’t exactly won the crowd over…

The raven haired girl turned her head to face the Fenton siblings so fast she almost gave herself whiplash as she sent them a pointed look. “You guys are friends with Vlad freaking Masters and you think me having a little money is a big deal?!”

“Actually, you’re filthy, stinking rich yourself.” Jack corrected matter-of-factly and, for a moment, Sam wished she could just forgo her grandmother’s insistence on treating those older than you with respect and glower at the Fenton patriarch.

The only answer she got to her incredulous outburst were a pair of twin nervous laughs and shrugs.

The hazel-eyed girl took a deep breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration before turning back to their dad. “Um...and what exactly does it do?” She asked dubiously, redirecting everyone’s attention back to the portal with a jerk of her thumb. She just hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was.

“It’s a portal to the Ghost Zone, where ghosts live and all that.” Danny’s voice confirmed her suspicions.

With his hands sticking inside his pockets he, too, approached the enormous machine, coming to stand right beside Sam in the process. Turning her head to him, her brow furrowed in worry when she noticed the way his forehead creased as he beheld the portal.

His face was bare of any telltale signs that would usually expose his true feelings on the matter; no creased forehead, no furrowed brow, no narrowed eyes, his lips were sealed in a thin, neutral line, and his hands in his pockets stopped him from clenching his fists. At first glance Danny was the perfect picture of calmness and indifference but something told Sam a very different storyーcall it sixth sense, call it her witchy instincts, or just plain care for her friend. There was something...dark hidden behind his eyelids. As well as something else. Something oh-so sad it made her heart squeeze in sympathy. Danny’s otherwise baby blue pools had turned the same colour of a troubled sea in a stormy night. Deep, and cold, and suffocating.

Lost in memories of times and misadventures caused by the eerie green hidden behind the portal’s doors, Danny started at the feeling of something warm sliding through his hands. Looking down, he saw Sam grabbing his hand in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He didn’t realise he’d been smiling until his father spoke up again.

“Well, Sam. What would you like to know?”

“Um...as much as you can tell me about ghosts?”

“Well,” Maddie took the floor, pulling her hoodie up and her goggles down. “That’s quite a lot, and I don’t think you’d feel comfortable staying at a house whose owners’ you’ve just met. So why don’t we start with the basics for now and you come back here anytime you want to continue this conversation?”

“I’d like that.”

“Great. Now, come Sam. There’s so much to say and so little time.” With a motion of her hand, the ectologist gestured to the girl to follow her. Rolling his eyes and fearing what was to come, Danny pulled a chair out for his guest around a conference table standing in the middle of the room before taking a seat around it himself, Jazz following suit. Instead of sitting down like the youths present did, Maddie stood in front of them beside a blackboard Jack had dragged from the other side of the lab.

Picking a chalk up, she began to scribble down on the board. “You see, Sam, the first thing you must know about ghosts is that they’re spiritual beings from another dimension, unlike pop-culture and legends where they’re described as the lost souls of the deceased.”

“That is not to say some of those spooks weren’t alive once.” Jack conceded. Unlike his wife, he’d ultimately sat down and was now tweaking with some strange-looking gun. “The thing is, whatever humanity or sense of morals they might have had once is long gone. Now they’re nothing more than ectoplasmic remains of human conscience.”

“Exactly.” Maddie agreed. “They think they’re intelligent, rational creatures capable of free will, but really those are just delusions caused by memories they no longer possess.”

Danny had to hold back a growl at that, otherwise Sam or, even worse, his parents might pick it up and ask him about it. With a furrowed brow he slumped down on the table and propped his head over his crossed arms. They really knew nothing, didn’t they? As excellent inventors as his parents might be, the way they approached ectology was closer to a pseudoscience than the discipline they claimed to have dedicated most of their lives to. As he and Jazz told Sam before, they were experts at everything one needed to know about a ghost’s innerworkings and how to exploit that to their benefitーand by extension his benefit, since he’d been borrowing their inventions for yearsー, but they were absolutely hopeless when it came to their motivations, their ambitions; what made them tick!

Listening to them going on and on about the same old, misguided story was just painful at this point.

Or course they had free will! It was precisely because of that he was constantly fighting ghosts, because they chose to fight him! Nobody said it was a smart choice but, hey, it was theirs. Just like many other ghosts chose to stay in the Ghost Zone and live their afterlives rather than cause trouble. The Far Frozeners, Clockwork, Wulf, Dora once she was free from her brother's abuse...Those were all examples of very powerful ghosts that chose to live peacefully!

But did their parents care? Noooooo! At this point he was sure they just wanted a lab rat.

“The one thing that truly motivates a ghost to do the things it does,”ーit; could they be any more dehumanising?ー, “is its obsession.”

Okay. So offensive pronouns aside, that was accurate.

“Their obsession?” Sam echoed. She didn’t remember ever hearing about such a thing.

“Indeed.” Maddie nodded, still scribbling furiously down on the board. “A ghost’s obsession is what ties them down to our world.” She explained as she made a diagram of a human head with the word ‘memories’ written on it and an arrow pointing at the silhouette of a ghost with the word ‘obsession’ scribbled down. “Remember when we said ghosts think they have free will due to memories they no longer possess?” Sam nodded. “Their obsession is those memories. It usually manifests in the form of something they used to hold dearー.”

“Or something that eventually consumed them.” Jack added, not once looking up from the strange device in his hands.

“That’s right, hon. Something dear or that eventually consumed them that was so important to them it became all they cared about when they passed on. Fulfilling that obsession is what motivates them in the afterlife.”

“So, for example,” Sam started, a finger tapping her chin in contemplation, “if a person was so overworked when they were alive they ended up hating said job with a passion or even lost their minds over it, then anything related to it is their obsession?”

“Very well, Sam.” Maddie nodded appreciatively.

As Mrs Fenton droned on, her voice became background noise. Sam was a mess. She didn’t know what to make of things so far. On the one hand, not only were the Fentons answering her questions and expanding on the knowledge she’d been brought up with, it confirmed everything she already knew! Ghosts were dangerous and unpredictable; they couldn’t be trusted because they’d turn on you on a whim. It’d happened before and that directly resulted in her people living in the shadows, terrified of being discovered, for centuries.

Ghosts were immoral monsters.

And yet...she found she couldn’t fully believe anything they were saying. She didn’t want to believe what they were saying. If ghosts were truly that bad, then why did Phantom try to put her to safety? Why was he always fighting other ghosts for the sake of the town? Could it be that Amity Park was his obsession and he was just trying to defend his turf rather than the innocent? But that didn’t explain why he’d go out of his way to try and save her! Her, the Witch Queen, of all people!

Everything she once believed in and the questions that’d been plaguing her mind collided against each other. She didn’t know what to think anymore. But she did know one thing:

She’d promised Danny she’d try to keep an open mind.

“Then what about Phantom?” She heard herself asking. When the Fentons’ questioning glances rested on her, she had to fight the urge to shrink under their gaze. Come on, Sam. You’re the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park and you’re doing this for your people, and nothing gets in between you and the sake of your people. She cleared her throat. “I mean, what’s his obsession?”

“Fudge if I know.” Mr Fenton mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Jack!” Mrs Fenton gasped. “Don’t cuss in front of the children!”

“I said ‘fudge’!” He defended himself.

“And we’re not children anymore!” Danny and Jazz protested in unison.

Rubbing her temple, Maddie let out a loud sigh. “What my husband means, Sam, is that Phantom is a bit of an anomaly.”

“An anomaly?” She raised her eyebrow in confusion. “An anomaly how?”

Once again, the Fenton matriarch turned around to write on her board, only this time she began a list. “For starters, the only sightings there’s ever been of him only date back to seven years ago, and even then he was already surprisingly powerful. Then, there’s the fact he’s constantly changing.”

“What do you mean?”

“For one, just when you think you got all his spectral abilities down, he surprises you with some new trick.” Jack explained, ignoring the way what he said next had his son scowling and his daughter giggling behind her palm. “He’s almost like a pageant dog. And then there’s his appearance; when he first appeared he looked like some prepubescent kidー.”

Must every ghost hunter assume I hadn’t already gone through puberty when I got my powers? Danny thought bitterly to himself.

“ーand now he looks like he could be your age.” He finished.

“His actions around here are both mysterious and suspicious, too.” Maddie added.

“We’ve been trying to catch him since he first appeared, but the spook’s been managing to give us the slip every time.” Jack admitted.

His wife patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Aw, don’t you worry, honey. Sooner or later he’ll be all ours. It’s just a matter of time.”

“But by the time we finally catch him he might already be protected by the law or something!” He sulked. “Have you seen the sign when you enter the town? ‘Welcome to Amity Park; home of Danny Phantom!’” He scoffed, narrowing his eyes in disgust. “Might as well just call it, ‘The hauntedest place on Earth’, it’d be more accurate…”

“Uh, I think that’s already taken by some place called ‘Crystal Cove’, Dad.” Jazz pointed out.

“Even if I do agree his increasing popularity is a cause for concern in terms of the town’s general sanity, there’s still many people who see him for what he is; a menace to society.” Mrs Fenton reasoned.

Just a week before, Sam would’ve agreed wholeheartedly with everything the Fentons said, but now she found herself squirming at the sound of their vile words. Had a few meetings with Phantom really warped her perspective on things that much? Looking down at her fidgeting hands resting on her lap, she had to deliberately stop herself from tucking a loose strand of hair behind her earーbecause she intended to push hair from the shaved side of her head away. When was she going to get used to that spell?

Unbeknownst to her, Danny was watching her every move. He wasn’t sure why, but the prospect of Sam siding with his parents and their misguided theories terrified him more than half the ghost fights he’d had in the last year. She was just so great...Even if they’d only hung out a few times, he already couldn’t believe there’d been a time where it’d just been him and Tuckerーand occasionally Jazz.

She fit so well in their group it was like she was always meant to be one of them. Luckily she seemed to have taken their advice to heart and was indeed trying to keep an open mind; she even asked about his ghost-half. The halfa guessed it was probably an attempt to convince his parents (or maybe even herself) that not all ghosts could possibly be bad. And for that, pointless as it might be when it came to the Fentons, he was grateful. He just hoped she wouldn’t decide she was better off without him in her life.

It’d taken him twenty-one years to find her, he couldn’t lose her now.

Again, where did that come from?!

He had to go back to trying to have a somewhat balanced sleep schedule. Sleep deprivation was doing a number on him.

Just as he observed Sam, Jazz was keeping her eye on him. He looked so glum and tired...It was one thing having to hide who you are from your parents, but having to listen to them talk about how much they hate that thing you were hiding from them time and time again? It was enough to drive someone over the edge.

Just by following his line of sight it became obvious this time he was far more worried about what Sam may think of this, may think of him. And if there was one thing her baby brother didn’t need, it was more things to worry about.

Thinking quickly, the redhead scanned around the room, looking for something to divert everyone’s attention away from the topic at hand. As her eyes surveyed the dreaded Fenton Toaster (was that thing ever going to perish once and for all?), she took notice of an arrangement of pieces, wires, and circuit boards laying scattered on the floor.

How could she have possibly missed that?

Her voice breaking everyone out of their own daze, she jerked a finger in the direction the pile of metal was, “Um, what is that?”

Following her pointing finger, her parents' expression brightened up. “That, Jazzyrincess, is our latest project; the Fenton Fermoir!”

“Dad knows French?” Danny asked, absolutely flabbergasted at the revelation.

“I’ve known for weeks now and I’m still as surprised as you.” Jazz leaned back to whisper to him. Then she remembered something. “Wait, I thought you guys were going to make a special keychain for Danny; that is not a keychain.”

Squinting her eyes at the assortment of scrap metal on the floor, propelled by her arms, Sam leaned forward to the boy in front of her to join in on the conversation. “At least not one that fits inside a pocket.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, girls.” Maddie waved them off as she made her way to the yet-to-be-built Fenton Fermoir. “We finished Danny’s keychain weeks ago!”

“Which reminds me…” Jack rummaged inside his suit’s pockets until he fished out a simple set of keys with a badge with the company’s logo on it and handed it to his son.

Bringing it to his face, Danny tried to appear enthusiastic. “Gee, thanks.” He stuffed his new keys inside his own jean pocket. “So. What does the Fenton Fermoir do?”

“Remember the portable ghost portal devices we created a few years ago?” Jack asked his kids, who nodded in response, then he noticed Sam’s blank stare. “Oh, that’s right. You weren’t there, Sam. The thing is, those gadgets could open up medium-sized ghost portals anywhere, so we thought we should perhaps try to create an opposite invention.”

“Wait, are you saying this thing’s supposed to be able to close ghost portals anywhere?” Danny asked. This was great news! If his parents finished the Fenton Fermoir and it worked, then he’d only need to power it up with his ecto-energy and the portal crisis would be over! He wouldn’t need to meet or rely on Lady Arcana anymore!

Somehow, the thought of not seeing the violet-eyed witch made his insides twist and his heart feel hollow.

Man, sleep deprivation was getting worse each time!

“If we can get it to work.” Maddie lamented, kicking a cylindrical-looking piece around. “Whenever we try something happens and shuts it off! It’s almost as if our regular energy source isn’t the right one...or at least not enough.”

Well, there went his solution.

“So for now we’re stuck redesigning and rebuilding this baby until we find the right one.” Jack said optimistically.

“It’s getting late, though, so why don’t we go upstairs and have dinner, hm?” Maddie suggested. “Sam, would you like to stay?”

The Goth was hesitant to reply. “Uh, I’d love to. But what are we having? It’s just...I, uh, I don’t eat meat.”

“Don’t worry. I always buy plenty of vegetables Danny and his dad barely even look at. You can have that.”

“Hey!” Both men cried out, offended.

Giggling, the three women went back upstairs, followed closely by the still outraged men.

During dinner, the weirdest thing happened.

Nothing bad, really. But it was something Sam wasn’t used to at all. Most of the time, she only ever felt comfortable with her family when Grandma Ida was present, since she always acted like the understanding voice of reason she was beloved for back in the clan. And ever since she passed away, the atmosphere in her house was so tense you could cut it with a knife. The otherwise deathly quiet family dinners were only ever interrupted by her parents discussing how the business was doing, Mother’s next big, exclusive eventーsometimes they were true, sometimes they weren’tー, or to bring up her inadequacy as their daughter and, hence, heiress to then Manson name.

The tension only melted away, even if just a little, when it was just her dad and her.

But the Fentons…

Everything was so different. Animated chatter never left the table. Food was being passed around; conversations took place and questions about everyone’s day were asked; every once in a while someone would make a joke that would either elicit laughter or pained groans from everyone present...even herself.

Their families really were very different.

Despite everything, Sam loved her parents and knew, deep down, they loved her back. Her mother in particular just had a very selfish way of showing it. But the Fentons...They weren’t perfect. The way Danny and Jazz learned to rely on each other as well as their parents’ single-minded focus on their career were proof enough of that. But everyone sitting around that kitchen table, eating steak with a serving of mashed potatoes and peas, clearly loved each other very much.

When it came to family, life was a lottery.

Sometimes you got heartless monsters, and other times you got loving people who were only humans and occasionally made mistakes.

Maddie stopped mid-sentence, her fork with a piece of steak hanging in mid-air, because she noticed her husband doing something he shouldn’t. “Jack, are you still tweaking with that, even now?”

Stiffening up, for he’d been caught, he tried to play it cool. “Uh, no?” His wife’s arched eyebrow spoke volumes, making him give in. “Yes. But you can’t honestly expect me to stop now, babycakes! Not when I’m about to have a breakthrough!”

“I know I'm going to regret this” Jazz muttered, rolling her eyes, “but what’re you working on, Dad?”

The orange clad man replied by holding out his creation for all to see. It was a funny-looking, double-cannoned gun that had what seemed to be a compartment filled with goo in its back. “Behold, the new and improved Fenton Foamer!” He announced loudly before adding, almost as an afterthought. “Now in pocket size.”

Not understanding a word that was being said, Sam let the family talk, her focus directed at her stir-fried vegetables.

“Is there something wrong with the old Fenton Foamer?” Danny asked.

“No, but it never hurts to revisit your old work and try to improve it, son.” He replied, patting the device with one gloved hand. “Not only is this beauty more appropriate for travelling, but I’ve also been tinkering with a new formula for the foam. Trust me, nothing could possiblyー.”

All of a sudden, when the patting became too much for the prototype to handle, a ‘splurt’ sound could be heard at the same time as a bright, green goop flew across the table. Everyone’s jaws dropped in mortification.

“ーgo wrong.” Jack finished lamely, earning himself the disapproving looks of everyone present but Sam.

But that might as well be because her eyes weren’t visible. The goop had landed on her, covering her petite form from head to toe in the mysterious substance Danny prayed to anyone who might be listening wasn’t toxic.

Panicking, he was by her side in the blink of an eye. He was trying to wipe the foam away with a napkin as he apologised profusely. “Oh, my God! I am so, so sorry, Sam. I promise, I’ll clean you up. Or, even better, I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning. Sorry. I’m sorry. I promise, my dad’s inventions aren’t usually harmful to humans; a little electric shock at most. I’m so sorry, Sam. Please, forgive me.”

Under the Fentons’ concerned gaze, Sam lowered her face slightly, enough so they could make even less of her expression. Then she began to shake, Danny was sure from rage, and make indistinguishable sounds. Just as everyone braced themselves for the worst, the Goth threw her head back and laughed so loudly she caught them all off guard for a second. She kept on cackling almost maniacally to the point she had to hug herself, holding her sides that were, most definitely, going to split open if she kept this up.

A little unnerved by her behaviour, Danny could only ask, “Uh, Sam? Are you alright?”

“W-why...why w-wouldn’t...I-I be?” She replied with a question of her own as her laughter calmed down to giggles.

“Um, not to be Captain Obvious here, but you just got covered from head to toe in goop…” Jazz pointed out uncertainly.

“Oh, I know. Trust me, it’s fine.” The Goth said as she used her hands to wipe said goop from her eyes and face. She furrowed her brow in confusion when she finally noticed the family’s worried looks. “Uh...are you guys okay?”

“Oh! Yes, yes we are. It’s just...” Maddie began, unsure on how to address the subject herself, “ not many people react so positively to one of our inventions going awry.”

“Normally you’d have issued a restraining order against us already.” Jack explained so matter-of-factly it made the Goth girl wonder just how much time this family spent at court.

“Yeah.” Danny agreed, still trying to help Sam clean up with his napkin. “Not even Tucker would’ve taken it so well.”

“I see. Well, what can I say?” She shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I guess I just can’t get mad when I find this so awesome.”

“You find this awesome?” Jazz parroted, incredulous.

“Um, yeah. I told you; I love everything paranormal and, you gotta admit, this is the sorta thing that would go viral on YouTube.”

“I...can’t argue with that logic.” Danny conceded. He still couldn’t believe it; Sam just got bathed in slime and her first reaction was laughing it off? Could this girl get any more incredible?

When she finally got to cleaning her hair free of foam, Sam had to do a double take as she slid her fingers through her hair. “Have you guys ever thought about selling this as a hair conditioner? Because, I kid you not, my hair’s never been this silky! I have a friend who would kill for something like this.”

“You have other friends besides Tucker and me?” The question left his mouth before he could even register it. Sam’s murderous glare made it obvious she didn’t appreciate the jab.

Then, as if on cue, everyone broke down laughing. They all spend the rest of dinner chatting amicably and sharing storiesーJack and Maddie even began to ponder on the benefits of selling the new Fenton Foam as a conditioner, like Sam suggested! By the time they were done eating, the whole family gathered around their doorstep to bid their guest goodbye. Danny, Maddie, and Jazz hugged her (Sam still wasn’t used to physical contact due to her Goth indifference but this was nice), while Jack patted her in the back with such force it almost sent her falling down the stairs.

The moment the door to FentonWorks was closed, his parents were already asking Danny when was the next time Sam would come visit, prompting him to groan in exasperation and Jazz to giggle at her brother’s embarrassment.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fic #my fic #your heart #danny fenton #sam manson #frostbite #clockwork #jazz fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #Amethyst Ocean #ghost king! danny #ghost king! au #witch queen! sam #witch queen au #enemies to friends to lovers

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rosesisupposes · 4 years ago

Text

Objections, Your Honor

Two lawyers are across the aisle in open court once more. But today something is off, and no one is happy with the result.

read on ao3

characters: mainly Logan & Janus; background Virgil, Patton, Roman, Remus, Remy, and Emile

pairings: soulmate Loceit; QPP Analogical; QPP Moceit; romantic soulmate Royality; romantic soulmate Dukexiety; romantic soulmate Remile

content tags: non-traditional soulmate AU; courtroom drama; arophobia and acephobia; shameless self-pandering with legal arguments about the MCU; gushing about QPPs; couples therapy

reader tags: @royally-anxious @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @max-is-tired @almostoveranalyzed @potestessemagishomosexualitatis @mariniacipher @vintage-squid

word count: 10,386

⁂

The day it happened was no normal day for Logan. But not, of course, because of that.

He cared because it was a trial day. Months of motions back and forth, weeks and weeks of preparation, and today was oral arguments. He normally avoided open court, particularly against such an opponent, but nothing could be done.

His case files were impeccably arranged in his padfolio, his grocery list of arguments annotated in precise writing, blue ink dotting the page with emphases and connections, his notepad prepared at his left.

He glanced to his right out of the corner of his eye at his opposing counsel. He didn't want them to see him looking. But he sneered internally at the haphazard stacks of papers spreading across the table and the garish gold ink that looped and curved across sticky notes.

The judge finally came out, and Logan stood, crisply buttoning his tailored jacket as he did so. At the signal, he identified himself clearly. "Logan Finch for the appellant, Your Honor."

And then, from his right: "Janus Alighieri for the appellee, Your Honor."

Logan rolled his eyes internally. Janus was, unfortunately, a very familiar foe at this point. But then, they were two of the most respected lawyers in their state, with opposing specialties and reputations for innovative tactics.

Logan was self-aware. He had another reputation, too: as a black-and-white thinker, unshakable, unalterable. He preferred to think of it as a particularly strong conviction. Versus "The Snake" against him, who coiled and twisted the facts of his cases to benefit his clients.

And of course, that was the issue today - Logan strove to show that his client had a straightforward, airtight argument that should clearly prevail, while Janus found miniscule details that he said should be enough to distinguish the case at hand and make it different from previous decisions, enough so to allow the case to be decided in his favor. He'd charmed the jury at trial, and now argued against Logan's appeal.

Logan prided himself on keeping a cool head, but listening to Janus' speech just got under his skin. His neat handwriting started to get messier and messier as he furiously scribbled notes of counterarguments and responses to his opponent's points. Then Janus turned slightly, just enough to see frustration's color burn in Logan's cheek, and he smirked.

Logan barely heard the gasp from the observers behind the bar, because he'd just snapped his pen in his grip.

He looked straight ahead, somewhere slightly to the left of the judge's head, but he saw very little, his furious thoughts too loud to allow any else to be processed. But the audience was murmuring and talking, far louder than any judge usually allowed - what was going on?

A clerk from behind him hurried up to the judge's dais and whispered urgently in her ear. Logan had yet to look around, but he was slowly coming back to himself, enough to be confused at this disruption in normal procedure. He refused to look over at Janus' probably-still-smirking face.

The judge cleared her throat. "Counselors, we will recess for the day. Please join me in my chambers now."

Logan frowned, but cleaned up the broken pen and gathered his file neatly back into his leather briefcase. He didn't look over, but he heard the flurry and crinkling of papers as Janus threw his notes into his own bag. Without glancing over, Logan followed the judge to the small office at the back of the courtroom.

"Mr. Finch, Mr. Alighieri. I do hope there's a good explanation for this breach in propriety, not to mention the code of conduct," she said sternly as they both stood before her heavy desk.

"Breach, Your Honor?" Janus asked. He sounded just as confused as Logan felt.

"As barred attorneys, you are expected to know the code as well as I," Judge Kasel said severely. "No soulmates may be involved in a trial together, except as co-counsel."

Logan's ears roared. "Your Honor, I apologize, I must have misheard. Soulmates? How is that relevant-"

"Mr. Finch, don't play dumb with me - the entire courtroom saw!"

"Saw what?" Janus asked. His voice was oddly distant and strained from its normal silky tones.

Judge Kasel stared at them in disbelief. "You mean to tell me you both managed to not see that? I'm quite certain the entire county saw the glow just now, through even the back of your suits!"

"Glow?" Logan asked. His chest was suddenly very, very empty, a vacuum of air or substance, and had he not been sitting he was sure he would have fainted.

"Yes, glow, both your marks on your shoulders. Given your mutual surprise, I will assume that this was indeed unknown, and will not declare this case a retroactive mistrial. But you will both need to send in replacements from your firms."

Janus spoke up, his voice tinny. "Replacements, Your Honor? I should think even in light of this- development, only one of us would need to withdraw-"

"Mr. Alighieri, while I appreciate your dedication, I will not delay this trial for the entirety of your bonding. I will give you both 3 days to propose counsel to take over, and scheduling will proceed with them."

Oh fuck. Bonding, Logan thought, unable to speak. That absolutely ridiculous expectation.

The clerk poked her head in. "If they need to speak privately, this side office is empty."

"Yes," Logan responded robotically. "Yes, I believe we need to speak."

They filed into the small room. The clerk closed the door behind her, whispering "Congratulations!" as she disappeared.

Janus sat in one of the chairs heavily. Logan remained standing, staring blankly at the bookshelves built into the wall.

"I can't believe this," Janus said finally. "We've known each other for years, how could we possibly be...?"

"Soulmarks frequently emit a barely visible glow from proximity alone, particularly when located on skin that is generally covered. Heightened emotion or situations with high levels of stress lead to brighter glows that were invisible or unnoticed previously," Logan recited dully.

"Oh yes, how could I forget, I'm talking to Encyclopedia Brown," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "Of course you've memorized that too." He unbuttoned his suit vest dexterously despite his trademark yellow gloves, slumping forward in his chair as he threw his vest over the arm carelessly.

"At least one of us actually has a factual basis for this event, rather than us both being in the dark," Logan snapped back.

"Yeah, your vast knowledge of facts really helped! Did your misguided quest to know everything somehow miss the detail of who's your fucking soulmate?" Janus said, nearly whisper-screaming.

Logan whirled to face him, a fiery reply already on his lips, when he suddenly saw a blue light showing through Janus' white shirt, bright enough to glint off the polished chair back and off the glass of the picture frames on the wall.

He closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. "Yes. That was a detail I had not learned. It felt trivial, unable to affect my work. But now that it has, we're better off resolving this."

Janus deflated too. "Yeah. We should. If we can just get through this part, at least we'll stop glowing like horny teenagers."

Logan focused on a tiny flag displayed on the desk as he spoke, not looking over. "I know of a very respectable landlord who rents bonding apartments in the city. Nothing overdone or kitschy, no 'honeymoon' suites, just furnished apartments for indefinite stays."

"Fine. Not like we can't afford it, whatever the price."

"I have some arrangements to make at home-" Logan began

"As do I, unless-"

"Unless what?"

Janus took a breath. "How would you feel about living with a snake?"

"I rather thought that was the entire idea," Logan replied coolly.

Janus shot him a withering glare. "I mean a python, you absolute cotton-headed ninnymuggin."

"Ah, my mistake," Logan said calmly. "That should be fine. A pet, I assume? Or your chosen co-counsel?"

"Let's get one thing straight, Finch," Janus said, rising to his full height, looking down at his infuriating opponent. "I don't like you. I don't expect or particularly want you to like me. We are going to be residing together up until, and only until, our illogical marks have decided in their weird cosmic energy to stop lighting up like neon signs whenever we experience strong emotion in each other's company. I fully expect to be pissed off the entire time, which will make figuring that out easier. But you do not get to speak to me that way, or I'll-"

Logan looked up to meet Janus' eyes. "Or you'll what, Alighieri?"

"I'll report you to the bar for breaking the code, and convince them you already knew," Janus replied smoothly. "And you of all people should know- I am very persuasive."

Logan's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Fine. And yes, you may bring your python. I'll be leaving my cat at home, however."

"Fine with me," Janus said curtly, deflating back into his normal slouch.

"I will send you the details of the landlord I mentioned. I can make the arrangements within the hour."

"Sure. Wait-"

"What?"

"How are you going to send me the details?"

Logan paused. Their only real contact over the years had been in person or by professional communications. He could hardly use a process server or subpoena to give Janus his key. "Ah. Right. Your contact information, then?" He pulled out his notepad.

Janus pulled out his gold pen and scribbled his phone number at an angle, entirely crossing the college-ruled lines. Logan cringed but took it.

"I will contact you shortly, then. And I will may sure to look for pet-friendly apartments."

Janus nodded. "Right."

"Right."

They both paused.

"Uh. See you soon, then," Janus said, and left the room abruptly.

⁂

Janus had to hand it to him - the apartment was all Logan had promised. Clean, sleek, and spacious. The landlord had even left a spare heat lamp, so Janus' sweet Monty would be comfortable.

Best of all, there were several separate rooms in the suite - two bed, two bath, and two offices.

The kitchen was also well-furnished, and came stocked with staple foods. Logan had arrived, however, with extra bags of groceries.

"I brought my own additions," he said. "The landlord is a friend, but he doesn't buy from the shops I prefer."

He proceeded to pull out several large jars of kimchi, what looked like at least a gallon of soy sauce, and various bright packages that Janus couldn't read.

Janus resolved to take pictures and look up what these things were later. Not while Logan was standing here, glaring up and over as if daring him to comment.

"I've picked the smaller bedroom," Janus informed the shorter man calmly. "Monty is set up in there, so if you're weird about snakes, just avoid it. Actually, feel free to avoid it anyway. I've got a brief to write."

Logan made a noncommittal sound in response.

Hours later, Janus emerged from his office to eat something. His brief was finished, sent off to his senior partner. He hadn’t yet told the firm about the day’s events- only that the appeal would need to be handled by another partner with his associates’ help, he needed to take emergency leave, and he would let them know soon how long he expected to be unavailable. H

e found evidence in the kitchen that Logan had prepared, eaten, and cleaned up dinner for himself. That was fine by him. He made his own food, grabbed a bag of candy, and retreated back to his room.

The next morning, he woke up at his normal late time, stretching in the sun. The kitchen once again showed evidence of Logan's presence- particularly the currently-soaking coffee pot.

When the sun started to descend once more and Janus had yet to see his new roommate, he grumbled. Guess he'd have to be the fucking practical one.

He blew Monty a kiss for good luck and stumped down to the rooms Logan had claimed. He rapped on the door. "Finch. We need to talk."

He waited. There was silence, then a slow drag of a chair. The doors cracked open.

"Yes? What about?"

"No. We need to talk. Or, fuck, I don't know. Be in the same room occasionally."

Logan sighed deeply, and opened the door more. "Fine."

Janus went to the living room and sat on one side of the couch. Logan followed him and settled on the chair facing him.

"So." Janus began.

"So what," Logan replied flatly.

"Sew buttons," Janus replied automatically.

"What?"

"Just something one of my friends says," Janus muttered.

"Ah. So what was it you want to discuss?"

"I don't know!" Janus snapped. "But I'd really like to get back to my life, eventually, and that can only happen if we bond." His lip curled.

Logan sighed heavily. "And how, exactly, do you propose we do that?”

Janus fell silent. He had very few ideas. Pop culture made it very clear that bonding was an extremely romantic event. First kisses. Proposals. Or, in the less sappy movies, it seemed to consist purely of falling into bed together. None of which appealed in the least, particularly not with Logan.

Logan stared expectantly. "Nothing? You just pulled me out with no ideas?"

"If you're the fucking brilliant one, you come up with one then!" Janus spat out the suggestion with a glare, but then he saw it - a soft gold glow shining through Logan's tee, reflected in the tasteful mirror behind him.

They both deflated again, glows reducing down to hidden beneath their clothes.

Logan adjusted his glasses. "I. Ah. Apologize. I realize you are attempting to resolve this issue."

"But you're right. I have no idea how to," Janus admitted.

Logan took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Unfortunately, neither do I. Perhaps just coexisting will be enough."

"How long will that take, though?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

They lapsed into silence.

Finally, Janus suggested, "Maybe we can do our work in the same room. Set up in the dining room with all our stuff. Coexist but in proximity."

Logan glanced over. "That seems relatively painless. Let us make an attempt, then."

⁂

Logan had not had any particular expectations for how well they could share a work space.

And yet, it was still far worse than he'd expected.

Janus talked to himself. As he read, as he wrote, as he researched. Not loud, but a constant stream of soft muttering, disjointed words and full sentences.

It was the most distracting thing Logan had ever been suffered to experience.

"Will you please be quiet," he said tightly, after an hour passed with no signs of letup.

"What do you mean?" Janus asked.

"That infernal whispering, please, could you stop?"

Janus looked at him quizzically.

"You're talking under your breath," Logan said. He felt a headache coming on.

"Oh, am I?" Janus asked. "Sorry. I'll be quiet."

It lasted all of half an hour, and then the muttering started again. "SCOTUS said yes but that was a city sidewalk, 2nd says no but that was Lincoln Center, hm, decoration, use, separation, intent?"

"You're doing it again!"

Janus looked slightly guilty. "It's barely conscious, it's how I process things. Could you just wear headphones?"

"I need silence."

"Noise-canceling, then?"

"Fine. Do you own a pair?"

But the headphones didn't help. The sensation was too odd, of being closed-in, and he kept bumping then as he went to lean against his hand. Finally, Logan stood. "I'm going back to my office. This experiment has failed."

Janus' eyes narrowed. "Well, thanks for deigning to sit in my presence for a full three hours before giving up."

"I'm not giving up, this is just not tenable!" Logan insisted.

"Well, you asked for ideas, and I came up with one. If it's not working for you, you come up with a better one. Come find me when you're done thinking, I know it could take you a while."

He stood and grabbed an apartment key, and stalked out to walk off his frustration.

As he walked, he called his best friend.

"Hey Pat, it's me."

"Jan! Hi buddy, how are you?!"

He sighed heavily. "I want to go home."

"But you only just got there?"

"Yeah, and it's going shi- I mean, badly. Really badly."

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Patton said confidently. "You're a brilliant and wonderful human, and anyone smart enough to argue against you will be able to see that!"

"Thanks, hun," Janus said. "The fact remains that I also don't like him."

Patton hummed tunelessly. "It doesn't have to be instant, Jan. These things usually take time."

"Unlike you and Ro."

"Well, yes, but that's because we were meant to be!" Patton soft, his voice taking on that soft, besotted tone it always did when he talked about his soulmate.

"Isn't the whole point that all soulmates are meant to be?"

"Well, yes..." Patton faltered. "But it doesn't have to look like us, we're just hopeless romantics!"

"I know. How's wedding planning going?"

"We started watching movies for inspiration and got distracted with a Disney marathon," Patton said fondly.

"But you had fun?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good," Janus said, meaning it. There were very few people, in his opinion, who deserved happiness the way Patton did.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Pat- what if it was a mistake? What if we just have defective marks or something?"

"I'm sure that's not true!" Patton insisted.

"It just seems like - I mean, we're not even friends. Most people get to start from strangers at worst, but we've been antagonizing each other for years, what if, I don't know. Neither of us had a soulmate and so they glitched out?"

"You just need to find some common ground," Patton said confidently. "You can't both be so passionate about being lawyers without something more in common. I believe in you, buddy!"

Janus sighed. "Thanks, Pat. Say hi to Roman for me, tell him Monty misses him."

"Will do, nephew! Call any time you need, okay?"

"Love you, Pat."

"Love you tooooo!"

Janus realized he'd circled the block and was back at the apartment entrance. He steeled himself, then went back up. He repressed the petty urge to bang open the door to disturb Logan's quiet as much as possible.

Logan wasn't in the common spaces, but emerged not long after Janus returned.

"I feel I must apologize," he began. "It wasn't my intent to denigrate how you work. It is just clear that sharing a workspace is not going to be preferable for either of us."

"Yes, I'm aware I had a bad idea," Janus said, overly patient. "Kind of an odd apology, but I accept. Can I have lunch now?"

"Yes, of course. May I join you?" Logan asked.

Janus raised a distrusting brow.

"The idea of spending time in the same space was a good one. I thought we might try a context in which we don't need to focus."

"Fine."

They prepared food around each other, both managing to bite their tongues when they needed the same counter space or cooking implements, which Janus was proud of himself for. They ate in silence.

Janus heard Logan sigh in exasperation and braced himself for yet another snippy comment. Instead, he heard an unexpected question.

"Do you enjoy superheroes?"

"To eat? No, they upset my stomach," Janus replied drily.

"I mean to watch. Superhero movies and shows."

"Occasionally, yeah, why?"

"Perhaps we could watch one this evening. At the same time."

"Sure."

And they parted to continue working on their own.

⁂

Logan had been correct that, as far as superhero movies went, the MCU was a safe choice.

In retrospect, though, perhaps Civil War had been... less so.

It had started when Steve first objected to the Sokovia Accord plan- and Logan had scoffed.

Quick as a cat’s pounce, or an adder’s strike, Janus’ head whipped around.

“You disagree?”

Logan glanced over briefly, screen light blinking off his glasses. “Well, of course. Didn’t New York and Sokovia show that some control is needed? Lawlessness leads to more civilian casualties.”

“And yet, if supers are controlled so much that risk of liability keeps them from acting at all, casualties would be just a tad higher, don’t you think?”

Tony and Steve’s voices raised on the screen as Logan replied, “What would the difference be of the villains and heroes if they all act with complete impunity?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did we lose mens rea when we switched over into Marvel-land?” Janus asked, voice clipped. “Isn’t the entire basis of our modern penal system based on culpability, not just the act or harm done?”

Logan looked down his nose. “Of course culpability matters. But you well know that one of the factors for absolute liability is when an act is inherently and extremely dangerous. Say, for instance, displays of superhuman force in a densely populated area.”

“So you don’t think there can be any space for personal judgment on the heroes’ behalf?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Look what that space did already! Does the name Ultron ring a bell?”

“So of course, the one who made a terrible call is the one who now wants to be restricted? That sounds like asking for the global government to save him from himself instead of taking responsibility.”

“Better that those with actual accountability be the ones bearing the responsibility!”

“Oh, yeah, and we can definitely trust this government’s judgment! A Hydra infestation was all part of the plan!” Janus’ voice was raising, far louder than the movie that still flickered on, ignored.

“There still needs to be rule of law! Steve wants to abandon it all for one person, and a war criminal at that-!”

“And that’s incomprehensible?”

“Of course!”

Janus fixed his supposed soulmate with a glare. “And you mean to tell me that there’s no one, no one, that you would be willing to burn the world down for?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Janus continued quickly before he could. “No one who won’t fight for themselves, because they think they’re not worth it, but you know they’re so worth it that you would be willing to kill for them?”

Logan, about to spit out an impulsive reply, paused, momentarily speechless. As clearly as if they were sitting on the edge of the couch next to him, his best friend from childhood filled his mind. Virgil, who never believed their worth no matter how many times Logan and their soulmate Remus told them so.

Janus saw the pause and continued softly. “I’m not saying rule of law isn’t important. But the trouble with laws is they’re only as tailored as legislators make them. And they’re human, and therefore fallible. We need exceptions, for those situations that they didn’t imagine.”

Logan struggled for moment, then replied, just as quietly, “You’re right.”

Janus’ mouth fell open in shock, but just as he did, the tv’s faint blue glow throughout the room was washed over with two beacons in blue and gold, blazing from their backs.

At the sight, Logan’s face went from contemplative and open to stony. He stood abruptly and stalked off into his room. The door closed behind him with a decisive click, and Janus was left staring at the wood in confusion and anger.

⁂

“I just don’t get it!” Janus whisper-screamed into the phone. He was power walking through a nearby park, moving so fast he’d passed a skateboarder and a particularly leisurely biker. “Does he want to keep on glowing forever? What is his problem?!”

Patton made sympathetic noises in response, quite familiar with the sound of Janus in full rant mode. Roman was lying with his head in his lap, listening on speaker, so Patton was settled in to be as receptive to his friend’s complaints as he needed.

“I mean, we finally agreed on something, besides the fact that we want to get this fucking resolved, and then he just, what, shuts me out? Literally and figuratively? I literally can’t even catch him leaving to the kitchen for food now!”

Patton winced. “Not since? But it’s been two days!”

“Two and a half, yeah,” Janus replied. His voice suddenly sounded weary. “I can’t keep doing this. The trial’s going on without us anyway, I might as well just give it up and make sure I never have to argue against him again.”

At that, Roman sat bolt upright. “Janus, my dear esquire! You cannot abandon your quest! This is your soulmate!”

“Yeah, well. Maybe some soulmarks are broken. Or we just met at the wrong time. Maybe if we’d met in law school we would have been a team, but now it’s too late.”

Janus sounded contemptuous, but Patton could hear a distinct note of regret.

“Maybe...” he started, but trailed off, thinking.

“Maybe what, Pat?”

“Well, it’s just that I’ve heard of soulmates who, you know, take an abnormally long time to bond, or manage to un-bond after years together, but they can fix it. Do you remember my old roommate?”

Janus wrinkled his nose. “Patton, are you suggesting couple’s therapy? I’m fairly certain that only applies to couples.”

“Well, you’ve kinda been forced to be one, right? At least to figure out bonding? They could probably help, or at least let you know if it’s not worth the effort.”

Janus sighed. “No, you’re right, it’s a good idea. I just have no idea how I’ll get Finch to go along with it.”

“Might I make a suggestion?” Roman asked politely.

“Sure.”

“Perhaps try calling him ‘Logan.’”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Worth a shot, I guess. Love you both.”

“Love you Jan!”

“Best of luck with the love of your soul!”

Back in the apartment, Logan was pacing in precise squares in his bedroom. He half-expected the rug to be worn down by the repeated impact at this point.

“L, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy,” the gravely voice on the phone said. “You really have only two options here: find a way to avoid him forever, which will probably involve having to turn down cases you’d like-“

“I bet he’d stay on them just to force me off,” Logan interrupted, growling.

“That is a possibility,” Virgil replied, their voice overly patient. “The other option, though, is to work this out,” they continued.

Logan scoffed.

“Lo, that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta turn into a Hallmark movie! But it’s clear this isn’t just going away, and it’s not like you’ve got nothing in common.”

Logan groaned. “Virge, I don’t-“

“I know, man. I know. But you can’t just hide in your room until he just decides to move out, which means you’re gonna have to talk to him at some point.”

Logan didn’t reply, just continued pacing.

“You know I’m right, Lo,” Virgil said patiently. “You don’t have to say it, just promise me you’re not going to keep being a hermit, okay?”

Logan sighed. “I promise.”

“There we go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

About to hang up, Logan heard a voice in the background and Virgil asked him to wait. Then, “Reme wants to say hi.”

Logan let out an exasperated sigh, but he was smiling. “Fine, I’ll allow it-“

“Loooogggyyyyy! How’s the soulmate boning going? Have you figured out that you’re a power bottom yet?”

“Hello, Remus. I take it you’re well.”

“Let’s just say I’m glad you’re my brother-in-law because I may have some need for a lawyer soon.”

Logan couldn’t conceal the grin from his voice as he replied, “As I know you know, I am not a defense attorney, nor would I ever be so unwise as to take you as a client.”

“Aww, you’re such a smart cookie! And by cookie I mean a snack, because mmmm-MMMm you’re a snacc!”

“Always glad to know I’m appreciated,” Logan replied drily. “Goodbye, Virgil. Goodbye, Remus.”

“See ya, L.”

“Byeeeeeeeeeee!”

⁂

When Janus returned, he was a bit taken aback to see Logan sitting in an armchair, reading. At the sound of the door, he looked up.

“Ah, Alighieri. I- I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

Janus paused. It was a good sign, but still so unexpected as to be unsettling.

Logan cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have left you in a lurch. You did not cause this situation anymore than did I, and you have not been unkind. I have a suggestion for how we might move forward.”

Janus winced internally, thinking of another disastrous attempt at a movie or workspace. “I actually had a thought on that as well, but um. What was yours?”

Logan cleared his throat again. “Well, since we have been... brought into this situation together, but as a pair are struggling to adjust, it seems logical to consult with an expert, much as we would in our work. Therefore, we should consult a professional on personal relationships.”

“Oh, thank god,” muttered Janus. “Yeah, I was gonna suggest a couples counselor too. I think that would make sense. And I actually have a personal reference to a very experienced therapist.”

That settled, they found the earliest possible appointment, only two days later.

“I do need to warn you-“ Janus said as they walked up to the office. It was their first time out of the apartment together, and it had been a very quiet walk over. “The methods of this therapist are- unorthodox. But they are highly acclaimed in their field.”

“Oh, are they an enby?” Logan asked.

“Yes and no,” Janus replied. “You see, there’s two of them.”

“Two?”

“Yeah, they’re a couple therapist that is also a couple.”

“I don’t- well- I mean, that’s odd, right?”

Janus grinned. “Yeah, odd is a common word to describe them. But they’re highly praised and like I said, they were recommended personally.”

“Right,” Logan said, squaring his shoulders. “An open mind is helpful for effective therapy, after all.”

“That’s the spirit! I think,” Janus replied, holding the door open.

A gothy receptionist showed them to a private room with a comfortably large couch. Logan looked around in trepidation and slight alarm at the decorations. There were countless Funko-Pops, posters, stuffed animals, and an alarmingly high number of travel mugs from what looked like every single cartoon that had ever existed.

Janus was slightly more prepared then Logan, but he still jumped out of his skin by the sudden singing coming around the door. A deep voice was booming, “Duhhh duh-duh-duh-duh-da-DUH!” in a building crescendo that went on and on, until both lawyers were staring in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

Then a tall, lanky man slid in the door and lowered his glasses to wink at them both. “Hey babes. Welcome to therapy.”

The singer followed him through the door, their bright pink hair a sharp contrast to their warm brown skin. “And thank you as always for the intro, honey!”

They smiled, big and toothy. “Welcome indeed! I’m Dr. Emile Picani, pronouns they/them, and this tall drink of coffee is my partner, Dr. Remy Picani, pronouns he/him! And you are Janus and Logan, correct?”

Logan looked a bit stunned still, so Janus took the lead. “Yes, I’m Janus Alighieri and this is Logan Finch, pronouns he/him for both. And I was referred by Patton Corwan-Augustus.”

Emile smiled even bigger, if that were possible. “Oh Patty! Best roommate ever, I still miss his brownies. It’s lovely to meet you both!”

“Best roommate? What am I, chopped liver?” Remy asked, hand pressed to his chest.

“Best friend, best coffee-maker, best of men and best of husbands,” Emile replied, and said husband immediately blushed.

Logan coughed politely. “Have you been married long?”

Remy smiled, still pink around the edges. “We’ve actually been married almost 10 years. The minute we graduated university, actually, when we knew our parents had not a shred left of financial control. We went through our PhDs together, which is why, of course, we’re qualified to help out other couples, because let me tell you, would not recommend.”

“Which brings us, of course, to you two!” Emile said brightly. “What is your goal in coming to therapy?”

Janus and Logan both began speaking at once.

“Well, it started in court-“

“It was completely unexpected, we’ve known each other for years-“

“-dreadfully embarrassing, not to mention the professional ramifications-“

“-it just feels like something’s missing-“

“-really want to just sort this out-“

“-just want to figure out the disconnect-“

“-and we can forget about the whole thing.”

“-want to make this work.”

They looked at each other, shocked, as their words both sank in.

Emile was tapping their Powerpuff Girls pencil topper steadily against their lips, eyes wide behind their pink-framed glasses.

Remy, at their side, leaned back and took a long, loud slurp of his iced coffee, rattling the ice around until the room’s attention was on him. Then he looked up and said, “Hoooo-wheee.”

“So I’m getting a lot of differing goals here,” Emile said delicately. “Let’s start with you, Janus. Can you expand, please?”

Janus tried to speak, but felt like his voice had dropped into the cold pit that was suddenly his stomach. “I, um,” he started with a shaky breath. He barely noticed when Remy pushed a cup of ice water into his hand, but a sip steadied him somewhat.

“You can look just at me, if that helps,” Emile said softly. “Or at my buddy Kaa here.” They gestured to the stuffed snake on the shelf behind them.

He looked like a fuzzy little Monty. That would do.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Janus said, acknowledging the water from Remy. “So. We’ve been rival lawyers for years, because we’re both the best at what we do. It was shocking, to suddenly be glowing in open court, but I thought we just needed to find common ground that’s not arguing. That’s why I’m here, at least.”

“And Logan?” Emile asked, still in that kind voice. Logan wouldn’t meet their eyes, though, or anyone’s.

“I thought- we both seemed so upset by the news. Or at least, I was, and perceived you to be as well.” He didn’t look up as he addressed Janus, but his eyes shifted over and took root on Janus’ polished loafers. “My plan was to spend whatever time was needed to stop glowing, then get back to our respective lives.”

“Do either of you have a question you’d like to ask of one another?” Remy asked. “It can be as large or small scale as you’d like, serious or frivolous.”

Both men looked up at the lanky therapist, who’d actually removed his dark glasses, revealing slightly foggy-looking irises. “Logan, it looks like you have one.”

“Oh- yes. So, Alighieri- I mean, Janus. To be clear- you were not upset by the news?”

Janus took a breath. “I mean, I was shocked, and upset to be removed in the middle of a case. But not about the soulmate thing, specifically. And I have a question too?” He looked to the therapists, who both nodded.

Janus looked over, and saw the Logan was watching him in his periphery. “When you say you were upset about the news- was it about the soulmate thing, or about me as your soulmate?”

Logan actually sat up, looking shocked. “Oh, goodness gracious. Absolutely about the concept of ‘soulmate’ in general, not personal in any way. Did I-?”

“Well, yeah, a bit,” Janus said.

“I am- I am so sorry. I would have absolutely have been equally upset, no matter who I found to be an accidental soulmate.”

Janus felt his stomach unclench just a bit.

“Logan, what about soulmates in general upsets you?” Emile asked.

Logan’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he stayed silent for a moment, then two. Finally, he said curtly, “I never asked for one. And no one asked if I wanted one, either.”

“No one asked if I wanted to be trans, and yet here I am,” Emile said with a cheeky grin. “We don’t always get a say over the circumstances of our birth.”

“But Emmy, you’ve found self-acceptance and happiness deriving from coming out,” Remy put in. “Logan, were you content with life before this reveal?”

Logan nodded.

“So there was no sense of dysphoria prior, or absence of a euphoria that was gained since.”

Again, Logan nodded.

“Couldn’t-“ Janus began. His throat felt a bit stuck. “Couldn’t there be something to be gained, though?”

Logan picked up a small figurine of Dexter from the table next to the couch, and fiddled with it in his lap as he spoke. “It’s not impossible, there could certainly be gains from a better acquaintance with you. But that’s not what a soulmate is supposed to be, is it? They’re supposed to complete you,” he said, his voice dripping in disdain. “Because you were incomplete before. Because you weren’t enough, alone, you were just waiting for the One. And of course, you can’t be trusted to find them yourself, some cosmic force determines it for you.”

Remy rested his hand in his hand, elbow propped on his knee. “Spill it, sis.”

Logan stared in confusion.

Remy smiled. “It means, approximately, ‘continue, you’ve got something good to say’. I’m getting a lot here- but a lot of the frustration seems to be with the idea that forces you can’t control are messing with your life, is that fair?”

Logan shifted. “Well, yeah, but that makes me sound like a control freak.”

“Not at all,” Janus interrupted. “Of course you don’t want something incomprehensible to make decisions for you. That’s not controlling, that’s perfectly understandable and human!”

Logan managed a small smile in response.

Emile beamed. “I couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“But I am def gonna poke some holes in your thought bubble,” Remy said cheerfully. “Starting with this: what do you mean when you say a soulmate is intended to be The One?”

Logan stared in disbelief. “Come on. Really? Look at, I don’t know, any piece of media ever. Or at you two. Or at my- friend and his husband. Or any other pair of soulmates!”

Janus added, “I mean, that’s what’s intended, right? With the whole ‘marked from birth’ thing?”

Emile looked at them both very seriously. “Did you know that Remy isn’t The One for me?”

“But he’s your soulmate?” Janus gasped out.

Emile nodded gravely. “He is my soulmate. But he is not my only soulmate.”

“I was designated female at birth to very traditional parents. They wanted me to marry my soulmate at 18, like they had, and they assumed he’d be a man. But my other soulmate was a girl, and I loved her with all my heart. And when I realized I wasn’t a girl, I thought my parents might accept us more. I was wrong.” They took a breath. “We were separated. I don’t know what happened to her. But it was enough to know that my parents didn’t care about my happiness, soulmate or no.”

“I’m so sorry,” Logan said quietly, and Janus nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I was lucky, though,” they continued. “I found Remy only two years later. And he accepted me as I am, both my gender and my other soulmate. And the cartoons, of course.”

“I never got to meet her,” Remy said. “So we will never know if she was my soulmate, too. I choose to believe she wasn’t. I think she could have been Emile’s one and only, had they been able to stay together. And that doesn’t make me feel any less lucky to be Emile’s husband, nor any less loved by them.”

“And not to shock you even more, but not all soulmates are romantic,” Emile said. “I know that’s the media portrayal- but well, the media is also pretty straight. And cis. And white. And neurotypical. And-”

“What they’re getting at,” Remy interrupted, “is that common portrayals miss a lot of the variety and complexity of humanity as a whole, let alone the complexity of relationships.”

Logan was sitting very still, and not speaking. Janus was trying to wrap his mind around this, and spoke with uncharacteristic uncertainty as he asked, “So- for instance, um, you could have soulmates who are, uh, queerplatonic partners?”

Logan’s head snapped up, staring at Janus with wide eyes.

Remy grinned. “Yes, of course! I was worried I was going to have to do a vocab lesson, but you both seem to know what that is.”

“But-“ Janus began, brows furrowing.

“But that means-“ Logan muttered to himself.

“Why isn’t he my soulmate?” Janus asked, at the same time Logan asked, “Why aren’t they my soulmate?”

Lit by the twin glows reflecting against the wall, the therapist couple exchanged a pregnant look. Emile reached out and took a hand of each patient. “I know this is a lot to process, but I really want you to keep something in mind: a soulmate is not the only way we can love someone. It’s not the ‘best’ way or only valid way to love someone. The same way the platonic love you clearly both hold for a significant person in your life is no less valid than romantic.”

Remy sat up straight. “I want you both to think about this when you go home. Your love for your QPPs is wonderful, and worth cherishing. And I know you are both lawyers, so here’s a question for you to brief. We cannot know the actual intent of whatever force gave you marks that respond to each other. So I want to you look for what evidence there might be, in each other, for your connection.”

Emile added on, “You have a link, and it’s worth exploring. It doesn’t have to ever be more important, more meaningful than another connection you have. But understanding it is critical to bonding successfully.”

“I think we should wrap there, for this week,” Remy added. “But you can talk about this, of course, without us.”

Janus and Logan nodded, and left. The walk home was as quiet as the walk there had been, but this time the air thrummed with thoughts and ponderings.

⁂

Janus and Logan made dinner with relatively little talk, only quiet asks to pass a spice or a cooking implement. It wasn't an uncomfortable quiet, but one where their minds were far too loud to vocalize just yet.

Janus quietly suggested putting on TV, and picked the game show network as a neutral, unobjectionable option.

They ate as they watched, still burdened with their own thoughts, but slowly started to murmur the correct questions under their breath before the Jeopardy contestants were able to.

Final Jeopardy, as luck would have it, was on Latin - but specifically, Latin as used in law. Both attorneys chuckled at the contestants' answers, some of which weren't even close to correct.

Janus directed a cautious smile in Logan's direction, and found it reciprocated. But as he saw that familiar glow start to reflect off the walls, he tensed, waiting for Logan flee once more.

For the first time, though, he didn't. His eyes widened as he took in the lights, but he didn't move to stand or leave.

"About today-" Logan began. "I don't know that I am quite ready to discuss it all, but I did want to once again apologize for my handling of this situation, and its emotional impact on you. It was entirely unintentional, but I regret causing you distress."

"Thank you," Janus replied softly. "And thank you for being willing and open to go to counseling. I learned a lot today, all of it important."

"I'd like to talk about it tomorrow, if you'd be willing," Logan added. "There are some additional details I need to share, but I don't think I'm able at the present moment."

"Sounds good," Janus nodded. "I'm going to turn in for the night. Sleep well."

"You as well."

But despite feeling tired, Janus found he wasn't at all sleepy. He ended up sitting up until the wee hours of the morning, stroking Monty gently and thinking a great deal.

⁂

The next morning, Janus woke up much earlier than his usual habit, but he needn't have worried - Logan was clearly waiting for him in the kitchen, sipping coffee and idly solving the entire Sunday crossword.

He looked up at the sound of Janus' door, and indicated the mostly-full coffee pot with a nod. Janus gratefully filled a mug for himself and lightened it thoroughly with cream, drinking deep as he stood angled so that he could offer critique and suggestions on the crossword.

"No, shush," Janus said, though Logan had not spoken. "It's gotta be White. Y'know, Betty? C'mon. Most-loved Gold? It's obvious."

Logan just smiled and penned in “White” in the horizontal boxes, immediately able to fill in the Down clues crossing them.

Once the puzzle was complete, Janus refilled his coffee and sat properly at the kitchen island.

"So, if you're amenable-" Logan began. "I believe I'm prepared to discuss yesterday in more detail."

Janus nodded. "Did you want to start off?"

"Yes, I think I must. Because there was one detail that I wasn't quite prepared to share that I think will be quite helpful in securing a full understanding."

At Janus' encouraging nod, Logan closed his eyes to take a breath, and said, "The truth is, I'm an aromantic asexual. That's why the concept of a soulmate was so upsetting to me, particularly because up until this week I had assumed I didn't have one."

Janus looked down. "I'm ace, too, but not aro, and... yeah, same boat, mostly. I thought I wouldn't have one, but when we started to glow, I assumed it must be romantic. But that must not be the case."

Logan tented his fingers together. "So you're not aro, but you do have a QPP?"

"Yeah - I definitely can experience romantic attraction, but what I feel for Patton has always been stronger, and different."

"I'd like to hear about him, if you'd be willing," Logan said softly, and was rewarded by a smile that seemed about to glow as brightly as his soulmark on Janus' face.

"Oh, he's just the best," Janus gushed. "I met him at the perfect time in my life. I'd just been dumped by an asshole because he couldn't deal with the fact that the asexual part wasn't just me being a tease. I was feeling pretty low, post-college, all alone in a new apartment, and then this beam of sunshine turns out to be the kind of neighbor who brings cookies as a greeting. Even though I wasn't exactly receptive, he just kept coming back, even just to check up on me, and soon I found myself looking forward to it, and then inviting myself over in return."

Logan paused. "Wait, your ex broke up with you because you were ace? Was it a surprise?"

Janus rolled his eyes. "No, not in the least. I'd told him, and reminded him, and he'd just been assuming I would 'get over it,' the fucker. Right after the breakup, there were times I wondered if he was right, if I should have just powered through my repulsion to make him happy. But Patton was amazing about that, too. When he heard what happened - oh my goodness, he was so angry on my behalf, he looked like he was going to Hulk out. And then he made it his mission to make sure I was being validated in my identity and knew that I was eminently lovable both in spite of and because of my aceness."

Logan smiled. "That's wonderful. I can see why you love him so much."

Janus sighed happily. "And it hasn't changed even though he's met his allo soulmate. Roman knows that our bond isn't and will never be a threat to theirs, and he makes Pat so happy. They're planning their wedding right now, but they've already signed all the papers and it'll just be a party where they gush about each other in public."

Janus sat for a moment, basking in the glow of his affection for Patton, before he turned to Logan and asked, “You have a QPP too, right?”

“I do,” Logan said, a smile stretching across his face unconsciously. “Their name is Virgil. And they’re also married to their soulmate.”

“Tell me about them,” Janus said, when Logan fell silent.

“They’re- they are just amazing. They’re my best friend, have been since about fourth grade. ” Logan’s eyes went a bit misty as he considered his childhood. “We bonded over being surrounded by idiots, after a debate simulation where we were on opposing sides.”

Janus smirked. “You mean I’m not your first? I’m heartbroken.”

Logan shot him a glare, but it had none of true anger’s heat.

“I guess we always had the feeling that we weren’t quite like everyone else. Besides the introverted tendencies, it wasn’t really a shock when they came out as nonbinary. They’d been online, discovering new terms, and in learning about their identity I ran into the aro and ace labels. I felt seen, do you know what I mean? And then Virgil just compounded that feeling by immediately understanding and accepting me. They call me a brother, just to explain that our relationship isn’t “just” friends.”

“What was it like when they met their soulmate?” Janus asked.

“It wasn’t nearly as smooth as your experience seems to have been,” Logan admitted.

“Their husband is... unique. Prone to rather odd fixations and interests. But he’s also demisexual, and like us, had thought he wouldn’t have a soulmate. And part of his defense mechanism against that kind of rejection was, well. Embracing his off-putting side. Being disgusting for the sake of it. Grossing out others before they could judge him for his orientation.”

Janus grimaced. “I know that feeling, all too well. Donning a mask, so that a rejection won’t be of you, just your persona.”

“Exactly,” Logan said, nodding. “I don’t think it helped that both Virgil’s and Remus’ soulmarks were in their hair. They’d both dyed their hair many times over the years, but it wasn’t enough to hide it. And once they had shown up- there was no more pretending.”

“Was it hard for them?” Janus asked.

“Accepting it was. But then they started actually talking and then it just- clicked. All those macabre interests that overlapped, the mutual obsession with MCR. They fell in love the minute they both let their walls down. And like you said- it never really changed what I had with Virge. They didn’t meet Reme until college, and didn’t get married until last year. So Virge told Reme that I was here to stay, and part of their life, and he accepted it without a blink. He’s a forensic archeologist now, to Virge’s forensic detective, so they’ve actually both been helpful in cases, too.”

“That’s... kind of adorable, in a weird way,” Janus said, scrunching his nose.

Logan chuckled. “‘Adorable in a weird way’ is the best possible description for their relationship.”

Janus tapped his finger on the island. “That sounds so familiar, though, and I can’t quite place it.” He closed his eyes, murmuring under his breath. “Wait! Is Virgil’s husband an Augustus?”

“That was his surname, yes, though now it’s Angelico-“

“Oh my god!” Janus burst out. “That’s Patton’s brother-in-law!”

“What?”

“Roman Augustus! That’s his soulmate’s name! And he had a twin, but they had a falling out and haven’t been in contact for a couple of years. But he said he’d been in forensics!”

Logan blinked. “Well, it is certainly a small world. Not that Remus has ever talked about his brother, but I knew he had one.”

“That’s kind of crazy. What are the chances?” Janus asked, laughing.

Logan looked pointedly over. “Do you really want to know? I could calculate them-“

“Thanks, calculator watch, but I’m good.”

They both chuckled quietly, sitting side by side at the kitchen island.

“Hey, uh- thank you for trusting me, with the other day, and with this,” Janus said softly.

“I owe you thanks as well,” Logan replied. “I don’t frequently have the opportunity to talk about Virgil in detail and it’s- it’s nice.”

Janus just beamed, returning the sentiment without words.

In that moment, the sunlight of the room was tinged with colored light, gold and blue overlapping into rich emerald.

Logan hesitated, seeing it, but after a moment lifted his arm. Janus smiled and leaned in, accepting the offered side-hug.

“Hey Finch- I mean, Logan?”

“Yes Janus?”

“I may not be sure yet why we’re soulmates, but I’m definitely not disappointed that we are.”

A beat.

Then a soft murmur replied, “Neither am I.”

⁂

Later that afternoon, Logan returned from stocking up on more food to find Janus lying upside-down on the couch, lanky legs dangling over the back. His face was red enough to show that he’d been sitting there for a while as the blood rushed downward.

“I cannot imagine that is at all comfortable,” Logan commented drily, neatly putting away the packets of noodles and snacks he’d purchased.

“It helps me think,” Janus replied. “Especially when I’m trying to see something from another perspective.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “This better not have been a set-up just to make that terrible pun.”

Janus looked over, grinning. “It actually started that way, not gonna lie. I’d been venting to Patton about an oral argument simulation in law school and he suggested this as a joke. And then it actually helped.”

Logan huffed in what sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh and came to sit more normally in a chair next to the couch. “So what is it that you’re trying to change your perception of so literally?”

“Our case, actually - Gomex.” At Logan’s quizzical look, he replied, “The partners aren’t letting me onto new cases until they know I’ll be back in person. I’m getting bored. So I thought, you know. Why not figure out what I was missing in this one.” He shrugged, an odd contortion for an inverted torso.

“You were missing something? But you won at trial.”

“And I was caught off-guard by your appeal - or at least, the part where it survived my motion to dismiss.”

Logan allowed himself a satisfied smirk. “Surprised you with my impeccable research, did I? All my rock-solid precedent pointing out the clear error in the original jury instruction?”

Janus’ legs kicked idly in the air. “Your research is always impeccable. Of course you were able to find precedent on-point for the general issue, you’re good at this. But the facts of the case are just so different that how could any of those past rulings be definitive?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, tapping the arm pensively. “Wait, so you really believe that? It wasn’t just a tactic to make Gomex feel like they’re getting their money’s worth for your legal fees?”

Janus finally righted himself, sitting upright with a leg balancing on the coffee table. “Well, yeah , of course I do. I don’t take the time and effort to go to trial for bullshit unless the client can’t be talked down from combat mode. Racking up charges for unnecessary trial prep is only fun when they don’t take my advice.” He looked quizzically at Logan. “So you really didn’t see the difference between Gomex and, what, Sourgoutsis?”

“No material difference, no. It’s in the right circuit, it’s recent and binding, and it established a test that clearly applies here.”

“But the test requires knowledge!”

“Knowing includes reckless disregard for the truth, and Gomex had that.”

“Oh, you can hardly say it’s reckless when all the claims were paid without issue for a decade!”

Logan leaned forward, counting off points on his fingers. “The guidance is updated each year. The commentary points out the changes. Gomex has to certify as a company that they accept all current guidance and direction. If they didn’t actually know they were submitting false claims, they should have known, and had a duty to know.”

Janus’ eyes were flashing, but more with excitement than anger. “But even the commentary didn’t clarify that these specific claims would no longer be accepted in the future. Doesn’t the agency have a duty to be clear about changes in accepted policy when the code is so vast and companies used past claims as standards for future approval?”

“But the companies are the experts in their own industries. They should know that these kind of differences are significant and material.”

Janus sat up fully straight, pointing enthusiastically. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“I figured it out! It is a matter of perspective. But not the perspective of side versus side, like I was thinking. It’s time.”

Logan leaned in, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Expand, please.”

Janus nodded, mirroring Logan’s pose even as his hands remained free to gesture. “So you’re looking at this as: company knows their procedures best, they’re the ones making profit off it, so their duty to know details is higher than the public agency. Right?”

Logan nodded.

“Here’s where I’m coming from - it’s not a question of if this company knew or should have known this distinction, or even if this industry has the expertise that the agency lacks. It’s about what this case would do to the Sourgoutsis test for cases in the future. If the agency doesn’t have to clarify a policy change now, why would it ever? If it’s not enough that companies rely on a long history of approval here, when will it ever be? Do you follow, Logan?”

Logan linked his fingers, tapping the tips of his forefingers gently. “So your concern is about using a history of compliance as evidence of good faith?”

“Exactly, yes.”

“But Gomex knew that the change meant the compliant history was no longer relevant.”

“Only because they had insider knowledge of the change process. Not from the public information.”

“Wait, so you agree that Gomex knew?”

Janus grinned sheepishly, baring all his teeth. “Well, we’re both off the case now, so- yeah. They knew or should have known their claims would get rejected and banked on the agency not noticing for just long enough.”

Logan gasped. “But you still went into court and got the jury to agree with you that they didn’t!?”

Janus shrugged pragmatically. “It’s not about Gomex, it’s about the precedent this will set. I’d rather one bad actor get away with it now than have who-knows-how-many claims get screwed in the future for a good-faith misunderstanding.”

“Especially if that bad actor is paying you millions to help them get away with it?” Logan asked with an eyebrow raised.

Janus raised one of his own. “So you’d rather let a bad test become binding because the agency is paying you millions to get it set in stone?”

Logan, about to respond hotly, paused. “I suppose that’s a fair assessment. I didn’t think it was that bad a test until now - I assumed the insider knowledge would be baked into the standard.”

“You gotta think cynically, Mr. Finch,” Janus said with a chuckle. “Picture the worst-faith application and work backwards from there, cause you know it’ll end up happening.”

“Hmm,” Logan said with a quiet laugh. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Janus fluttered his lashes. “The great Logan Finch thinks I’m right about something. My life’s goal is achieved.”

“Hey, I think you’re correct quite a lot!” Logan objected. “Infuriatingly precise and pedantic, sure, but ultimately right. There’s a reason my firm sends me against you - no one else wants to fight what’ll be a losing battle half the time.”

“Only half?”

“Even you must admit I’ve been correct on more than one occasion,” Logan said with a smile.

“That is true,” Janus admitted. “Knowing that you’re going to be the opposing counsel always makes me up my game.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Logan said wryly. “I’d never admit it to the other partners, but you make me a better lawyer, Janus.”

The flattered glow of Janus’ grin was immediately dwarfed by two other, brighter bursts of light. Gold and blue pulsed from their backs in a flash, then settled into steady light. The colors lit the stylish room, blending to emerald as they pulsed in time with each man’s heartbeat. Logan looked at the glow reflected on the white couch cushions with wonder as he realized that Janus’ back was no longer shining blue, but green. He caught his eyes and realized his own glow must have changed colors as well.

The lights pulsed more and more gently until they dimmed and went out, leaving Janus and Logan sitting across from one another just as the last of the sunlight fell below the horizon and the room went dark.

The silence stretched for several moments, until Janus finally broke it with a bemused, “Huh.”

“So that was-”

“I think so.

“So now we’re-”

“Bonded, yeah. I think.”

“That would be a logical assumption.”

The silence returned, each man lost in his own thoughts. When they spoke again, it was at once.

“Maybe we should-”

“Perhaps we could still-”

“-make sure it’s permanent?

“-take a few days more?”

They shared a grin.

“A couple more days couldn’t hurt,” Janus said. “After all, it could be a fluke. We wouldn’t want to set a standard from a mere fluke.”

“Oh, of course not,” Logan responded with the same tone of amusement. “We want to confirm the integrity of the test.”

Janus stood to flick on a light, then turned as a thought occurred.

“Wait, Logan - even once we go back, we won’t be able to be opposing counsel anymore. The soulmate code will still be applied, even though we’re not romantic or QP soulmates.”

Logan’s face fell for a moment, then lit up once more as he stood. “Well, we’ve got a couple days at least. I think the two best lawyers in the state might be able to argue that every precedent has an exception, don’t you, Mr. Alighieri?”

Janus’ smile mirrored Logan’s own as he replied, “Why yes, Mr. Finch, I think we might.”

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