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hannahmanderr · 2 years ago

Text

DannyMay Day 17 - Temper

lol I've got so much to catch up on

Words: 1,730

Summary: Jazz has never had the ghost-fighting skills that the rest of her family has. So what's she to do when a ghost attacks and she's left defenseless? (FFN)

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temper (n.): (1) a particular state of mind or feelings; (2) habit of mind, especially with respect to irritability or patience, outbursts of anger, or the like; disposition

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Jazz grunted as she braced herself against the force of the gale being created by the newest ghost attacking her house. Around her, the curtains whipped violently, threatening to rip off of the rod, and books and papers whirled around the room, forcing her to duck occasionally. The ghost in front of her - who reminded her of a misty version of the Pilsbury doughboy - knelt in midair, sobbing loudly into its hands.

As the winds buffeted against her, she mentally cursed. Mom and Dad were out on a call. Danny was with Sam and Tucker in the Ghost Zone, checking in on Sidney Poindexter after he’d had some sort of run-in with a particularly nasty pack of ghost wolves. Her Peeler and thermos were upstairs, under her bed, and every other possible weapon or means of defense - including the house’s security system - was out of reach. In other words, she was alone and unarmed. Two things she did not want to deal with when encountering an unfamiliar ghost.

“I-it’s gone…” the ghost blubbered. “Lost it… c-can’t…”

A particularly strong gust crashed into Jazz, causing her to stagger backwards. An armchair was knocked over and pushed towards her. Barely able to open her eyes because of the winds, she didn’t see it coming, and it swept her legs out from under her. She landed on the carpet with a thud and a bolt of pain up her arm. The ghost, upon seeing this, only sobbed harder.

“What - did you lose?” she tried to shout over the noise, but she could barely hear her own voice.

By some miracle, though, the ghost noticed and looked at her with watery purple eyes. “G-gone…” it said between sobs. “I-I hurt… hurt it…”

Jazz hoped she was actually frowning. It was too difficult to tell. “Hurt what?” she managed to gasp out.

“Th-the tower! I-it’s gone!”

Her mind raced. She had no clue what tower the ghost was talking about, but it was obvious it held some importance to it. What would Danny do with this information? Well that was a silly question. A ghost like this might have put up a little bit of a fight but wouldn’t stand much of a chance against him. He’d have already captured it by now.

What about her parents? Not that they’d have the information in the first place. They wouldn’t have stopped to ask questions in the first place. Dad would probably be trying (and failing) to get a shot in. Mom would probably be doing the same (with more success), but she’d also be working out a plan to capture it for future study or something.

Sam and Tucker? She wasn’t as sure with them. Tucker might try and log in to the security system and trigger the defense system. Sam, for as much as she preached non-violence, would not be hesitating to throw herself into the fight, probably following Danny’s lead.

None of these were options for her. She didn’t have the skill sets of her friends and family. She should know this by now; experience had shown time and time again that she was not exactly cut out for field work. Sure, she’d learned to aim a thermos, and she could fire a bazooka in a pinch, but this was never her forte. She much preferred to stay behind the scenes and provide team support.

Think, Jazz! Another gust of wind blew over her, still lying on the floor, and she had to roll out of the way of the coffee table approaching her. You don’t have their skills, but you have your own! What can you do?

Her main asset was her brain. That was a given. She knew she had a knack for analyzing things and digging to get at the root of the issue. That’s why she loved psychology so much - she loved to pick at people’s brains and figure out why they did the things they did, not just what they did. She could attack a problem better if she knew the underlying reasons for the problem in the first place.

Okay. So. Analyze this situation. To her, it seemed extraordinarily obvious: the ghost was upset because this tower it referred to was ‘gone’ in whatever sense that meant. It could be easily concluded that this tower held a lot of importance to this ghost. Losing something important could lead to extreme emotional duress, especially for people with anxieties or similar disorders.

Except ghosts weren’t necessarily bound to the same rules of psychology as humans. Danny was a prime example of that. But surely, being the souls of the deceased, at least some of the same rules passed over too.

Right?

Throwing all her weight to the side, she managed to roll onto her stomach and prop herself up on her arms. “Can you tell me about it?” she asked, doing her best to ignore the sting of the wind on her face.

The ghost’s eyes faded into the fog of its body and faded back in. They still leaked purple into its form. “T-tell you… about th-the tower?” it whimpered. Its voice was also difficult to hear over the roar.

Jazz nodded. “I want to hear about it,” she hollered, wanting to make sure the ghost heard her. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

The ghost hiccuped (how that was possible for a being without a diaphragm, she didn’t know). “B-but it’s gone…” it repeated. “I broke it…”

If Jazz had ears, they would’ve perked up. Of course! The ghost had said something similar before, hadn’t it? Granted, it had phrased it as “hurt it,” but the meaning had to be the same.

It all made sense! If this tower held such a special place in the ghost’s heart - er, core - and it had inadvertently destroyed it, then no wonder it was having such a difficult time. She wondered if the ghost even realized it was setting off the tornado-strength winds. It seemed horribly distracted by its distress.

So, distract? That could work temporarily, but not necessarily long term, and then they’d both be stuck in this same boat. Try and rationalize with it? Also a possibility, but it did not seem to be keen on listening to reason at the moment.

It needed something else to focus on, but it needed to be constructive. It needed to be something that could serve as a more permanent fix. A coping mechanism, but maybe one that could be used in future situations as well. Perhaps something that utilized its wind abilities, since they seemed to be so closely tied to the ghost.

The idea hit her as strong as the winds.

“Did something happen for you to break it?” she asked. She couldn’t tell if she was breathless because she was excited or because the gale stole her breath away.

It hiccuped again. “I-I didn’t want to,” it said. “I pointed… a-and it broke! I-I hurt it!”

Jazz nodded again. “It’s okay!” she shouted. “Sometimes we make mistakes. I make them too, and I break things I like too!” She absently wondered if this ghost was newer and not yet in control of its powers. The notion that it didn’t realize it was causing the wind was gaining validity.

“Y-you break?” the ghost asked. Was that an actual dip in the wind speed, or was she just imagining it?

Focus on the patient at hand. A psychologist can’t have her attention divided. “Yes! I break things sometimes!” She put her hand over her chest, but she made sure to position it where Danny had shown her a ghost’s core was (at least she hoped she was remembering right). Meet the patient where it’s at. “And it makes me break in here too!”

That caught the ghost’s attention. This time, the dip in the winds was noticeable. She took advantage of the opportunity to push herself up further.

“I-it broke…” the ghost whimpered. “A-and I broke…”

“I know,” Jazz said gently, still taking care to make sure her voice carried. “It’s okay. It’s okay for things to break. And it’s okay if we break, too.”

The ghost’s eyes faded in and out of its body again (possibly its method of blinking?), and the winds died down a little more. “But breaking… it’s bad!”

“No, breaking isn’t bad on its own. But we can’t just leave things broken, right?”

It shook its amorphous head. “N-no…” it said. “That’s bad…”

The books and papers slowly drifted down to the ground, and the curtains slowed to a flutter. “Not bad, just… incomplete,” Jazz reassured, offering a kind smile as she staggered to her feet. In the back of her head, she lamented about how tangled her long hair probably was after the whole ordeal. “It’s okay. We can make it right, but first, I need you to help me. Then I’ll be able to help you fix things, okay? We’ll fix you.” That last sentence wasn’t a phrase she was normally okay with using - all of her books told her that telling patients they needed “fixed” only made things worse - but this ghost seemed to have a limited vocabulary to some degree.

“Fix the tower?”

She hesitated. “How about we start with something smaller first?” she asked, trying to reach a compromise. She still didn’t know what this tower even was; she had no clue if it could even be fixed in the first place. She didn’t want to make a promise she couldn’t keep.

The ghost’s eyes shone from the reflection of its ectoplasmic tears and the slightest glimmer of hope. “We’ll go fix it?”

“Absolutely. And I’ll be with you the whole time.” She chanced taking a few cautious steps towards the ghost. Her hands were folded behind her back; she was pretty sure she remembered Danny mentioning something about the motion being a universal sign of submission and peaceful intention for ghosts, especially since many of the more offensive powers needed use of the hands to work. “Do you want to see?”

It eyed her warily. She could practically see the gears turning in its head as it processed what she said.

Finally, as the last of the winds died down, it extended a foggy hand towards her. “Take me?” it asked as if it were a small child and she was its mother.

Smiling, she took the ghost’s hand.

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temper (v.): (1) to moderate or mitigate; (2) to soften or tone down

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay2023 #dannymay 2023 #danny phantom jazz #jazz fenton #danny phantom fanfic #hannah writes

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dawn-of-worlds · 2 years ago

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Love Herds

(Turn 15; Haebarik has 4+3+2d6->9=16 power)

Slowly, over time, the Tarbra bold enough to venture into the southeastern mountains of Haebrach discover passes and goat paths, guided by a desire for new grazing grounds and lands free from ohmlings. Eventually, passage is found, and migrants stream south, bringing what animals they can, and taming those they find.

As they spread out over the continent's southern peninsula, they find something else entirely.

A mark, perhaps the last mark, left upon this world by an ancient slumbering god. A great region of the plains, dozens of miles in length, where the grass is purple-hued, the wind is always still, the stars above seem off. The first herders avoided this land, which they thought to be terribly cursed. But purple grass can be grazed still, and so ever bolder Tarbra led their beasts through these lands, until at last it became just another odd landmark.

Over generations, changes begin to take hold.

Their beasts grow more docile, less fearsome, their tusks and claws shrinking and dulling. Some grow blisters of soft flesh, which can be harvested like one picks fruit without harm to the animal. Some retain their umbilical, which toughens and strengthens until they may move it as a Gegant its trunk. Some are born dead, or too deformed to live; these the herders bury without further thought. The eldritch influence that lingers in their bodies leaks out, over time, and spreads the change-marked zone ever further.

The Tarbra, too, have their changes, but theirs are more subtle. Many develop purple eyes or lose their fingernails; some find the taste of meat now repulses them. A rare mutation sees their back-arm split fractally at the three joints, so that eight hands all grow from a single point.

The Tarbra tendencies towards communal labor and pack-bonding are strongly intensified in these beings, which universally tend towards altruism, empathy, and nonviolence. Some claim that all these new Tarbra, who call themselves Mera, love all life as they love themselves; a ridiculous notion that seems frightfully true.

Individual clans swiftly fuse, sharing herds and lands. Old institutions fade, a pseudo-eusocial system arises in its place, centered around a grand stone city at the magenta heart of the plains, where wandering herds come and go with their many docile beasts to provide the citizens with milk and flesh-blisters. Here in Lach Lero, the place of love, are born most new Mera, who grow ever more distant from the Tarbra, who feel a love ever more universal.

The Mera are prosperous: their herds are not ravaged by conflict, their people know they may all trust each other, and each is possessed by a drive to improve the lives of their fellows. Their civilization sends out scouts and missionaries, preaching compassion across the mountains: some travel south in search of utopia, but most ignore the messengers and continue to raid upon each other. It would be wrong to ascribe this to malice: each year some herds suffer more than others, and the divided northern people have no way of correcting the balance but warfare. A few even try to strike at the Mera, who are torn between their aversion to violence and their concern for their fellows, and at last tearfully repel the invasion.

Some, after those events, come to believe that only the transformation they underwent can bring about true peace. But others suggest that the right rulers, the right laws, they too can foster peace and love. Both groups research and theorize, and Lach Lero's knowledge of eldritch energies and psychology grow side by side.

In time, those skilled in both arts find ways to channel the power of long-gone Zaag. This mind-magic, in the local language called Psyk, is employed to create great crystal pillars that link the thoughts of Lach Lero's denizens, to tame and command beasts without a word, and to reform that rare Mera born without the endless compassion they all share.

(those that resist, that hide their condition and flee, that are born outside Lach Lero's reach; they often find refuge amidst other tarbra, and though some in time find their own path to a more human kind of love, some wield great psychic power unmarred by compassion, and so become the terrifying potentates of northern tribes)

For now, this power is restricted to the Mera and those subject to their meddling. But that meddling extends ever further north, and already some dare hope of 'civilizing' the whole continent, of establishing One Great Herd that all life might flourish by, of abolishing disease and death, of joining all minds in one and ending the cruelty of separation!

Perhaps the love of gods is too great for a mortal mind to hold?

(Create Subrace 10 points, Advance Civilization 6 points, 0 points left)

(Obviously, Zaag-Ghvaash can command these as if they were her own)

#fantasy? let's put some gratuitous psionics in there #it's at the edge of the world so if ppl want to ignore it they just can #i will also not apologize for that pun in the title #world 02457 diegesis

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pwblogarchive · 6 months ago

Text

August 2008

August 4, 2008

i got the front of my car smashed last night

chasing you off my (intellectual)property.

yet i still want to believe as much as you.

or you less than me.

there is a code of words when inputed in the right order that will make sense:

Control Feral Obsessed Blackout,

sadly that is not it. alone.

if i believe does it make it real like a dragon or real like the last 4 years?

Posted by xoat 1:15 AM

August 4, 2008

its obvious right now this is where the party starts with you and me all alone.

the new klosterman book is pretty good. dude is definitely the ultimate geek.

i think he is probably either the most self aware person on the planet and a complete genius or completely oblvious and therefor a complete genius anwyay.

The verb “cleave” is the only English word with two synonyms which are antonyms of each other: adhere and separate.

ive been having crazy dreams. very colorful and memorable.

in the 80s there were quite a few movies made about robots wanting human emotions and babysitting experiences gone bad. both are really funny. where are all those movies now?

Posted by xoat 2:23 AM

August 12, 2008

crazy is just a perspective. (i am sid and nancy)

because we just need a more refined version of mayhem.

these days im always in and out of somnia

there is something pavlovian about all of this.

i know i am not allowed to explain it outloud.

i know i am not allowed to sign it.

but you understand.

i think youre getting it.

loud and clear.

Posted by xoat 1:26 AM

August 13, 2008

“to you (unfinished, off the top of my head)”

It all started with some friends and a van

a kick drum inside my ribs

Preaching electric into a microphone stand

Raise your red plastic cup

And Turn the laughter up

We fell asleep in the grass on the summer fest days

You'd never guess I'm still trying to get my head screwed on straight

All us believers still believe

Everytime we sing "two more weeks"

Someone shoulda thrown us in a cell and swallowed the key

Somebody shoulda told us to leave em be

The only news we tuned in to was the traffic update

Nothing feels as close to home as nightime windows down on 88

Lax to berlin and back

Wake up on the west coast inside a flask

The good books in the drawer next to the bed you pissed in

passports a blur, full of stamps from places I missed you in

They'll tell you everything about last night that you forget

Pack your suitcase, joes in the back smoking a jazz cigarette

They hated me before they ever loved me

I'm not ready for things to change

I miss you missing me in the good old days

Got stuck in the cell of you and me

I guess it still beat solitary

-----Worry worry

Put my head in such a flurry

Freckle freckle

What makes you so special-------

One of these days yr gonna wake up in heaven

Laugh about that night you got four stitches above your eye

when they let the guitars fly

Never trust a band that wouldn't bleed for you

Never believe in anyone who wouldn't drive through the night

(To you)

They never tell you in school you'll feel so alone

Wake me up again when were in the same time zone

The way I'd take a cornfield over a coast

Mulitply me times what you adore most

There were nights between yellow lines

When I confessed to you riding shotgun asleep under purple skies

They say

You get what you get

Well we Got lost in the middle of nowhere And you almost quit

Tonight Come together

Come apart

You can get lonely when u

Only read the charts

Called everybody I knew in this life

Can we get it together just for tonite

I miss old friends and "play it agains"

Please Send my love,

to everyone above

August 23, 2008

i hope

i dont miss you tommorrow.

i love the way this city looks at night.

Posted by xoat 2:45 AM

August 24, 2008

edit:

i meant fuck off and die.

not im sorry.

Posted by xoat 3:34 AM

#fall out boy #pete wentz #livejournal

0 notes

maya-matlin · 9 months ago

Note

What are your top 10 Degrassi episodes from each season (from all 14 seasons) & your top 5 episodes from each Next Class season?

Sorry this took so long to answer!

Season 1:

1.) Jagged Little Pill

2.) Under Pressure

3.) Mother and Child Reunion

4.) Friday Night

5.) Rumours and Reputations

6.) Coming of Age

7.) Secrets and Lies

8.) Eye of the Beholder

9.) The Mating Game

10.) Wannabe

Season 2:

1.) When Doves Cry

2.) Tears Are Not Enough

3.) Shout

4.) How Soon Is Now

5.) White Wedding

6.) Don't Believe the Hype

7.) Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

8.) Dressed in Black

9.) Careless Whisper

10.) Take My Breath Away

Season 3:

1.) Pride

2.) Accidents Will Happen

3.) Whisper to a Scream

4.) Our House

5.) Take on Me

6.) Should I Stay or Should I Go

7.) Father Figure

8.) Holiday

9.) Gangsta Gangsta

10.) U Got the Look

Season 4:

1.) Time Stands Still

2.) Ghost in the Machine

3.) Secret

4.) Voices Carry

5.) Back in Black

6.) Mercy Street

7.) Moonlight Desires

8.) Eye of the Tiger

9.) King of Pain

10.) Anywhere I Lay My Head

Season 5:

1.) Redemption Song

2.) Turned Out

3.) The Lexicon of Love

4.) Our Lips Are Sealed

5.) High Fidelity

6.) Venus

7.) I Against I

8.) Foolin'

9.) Death of a Disco Dancer

10.) Tell It to My Heart

Season 6:

1.) Rock This Town

2.) The Bitterest Pill

3.) Free Fallin'

4.) Don't You Want Me

5.) Eyes Without a Face

6.) What's It Feel Like to Be a Ghost

7.) Can't Hardly Wait

8.) Working for the Weekend

9.) Love My Way

10.) If You Leave

Season 7:

1.) Standing in the Dark

2.) Death or Glory

3.) Live to Tell

4.) Bust a Move

5.) Another Brick in the Wall

6.) Everything She Wants

7.) Ladies' Night

8.) We Got the Beat

9.) It's Tricky

10.) Sweet Child O'Mine

Season 8:

1.) Jane Says

2.) Heart of Glass

3.) Paradise City

4.) Fight the Power

5.) Danger Zone

6.) With or Without You

7.) Money for Nothing

8.) Man with Two Hearts

9.) Uptown Girl

10.) Up Where We Belong

Season 9:

1.) Heart Like Mine

2.) In Your Eyes

3.) Why Can't This Be Love

4.) Beat It

5.) Shoot to Thrill

6.) You Be Illin'

7.) The Rest of My Life

8.) Innocent When You Dream

9.) Just Can't Get Enough

10.) Holiday Road

Season 10:

1.) My Body Is a Cage

2.) What a Girl Wants

3.) Chasing Pavements

4.) Purple Pills

5.) Better Off Alone

6.) Drop the World

7.) Still Fighting It

8.) I Just Don't Know What to Do with Myself

9.) Hide and Seek

10.) Don't Let Me Get Me

Season 11:

1.) Take a Bow

2.) Dead and Gone

3.) Extraordinary Machine

4.) Lose Yourself

5.) Smash Into You

6.) Hollaback Girl

7.) Dirt Off Your Shoulder

8.) Cry Me a River

9.) Boom Boom Pow

10.) Should've Said No

Season 12:

1.) Bitter Sweet Symphony

2.) Zombie

3.) Rusty Cage

4.) Waterfalls

5.) Doll Parts

6.) Got Your Money

7.) Never Ever

8.) Scream

9.) Ray of Light

10.) Say It Ain't So

Season 13:

1.) Believe

2.) Unbelievable

3.) Young Forever

4.) Everything Is Everything

5.) Basket Case

6.) Hypnotize

7.) Army of Me

8.) No Surprises

9.) Better Man

10.) Close to Me

Season 14:

1.) Firestarter

2.) The Kids Aren't Alright

3.) Teen Age Riot

4.) Give Me One Reason

5.) Wise Up

6.) Ready or Not

7.) Smells Like Teen Spirit

8.) Wishlist

9.) Get It Together

10.) If You Could Only See

Next Class season 1:

1.) #YesMeansYes

2.) #ButThatsNoneOfMyBusiness

3.) #SinceWeBeinHonest

4.) #NoFilter

5.) #NotOkay

Next Class season 2:

1.) #TurntUp

2.) #ThatAwkwardMomentWhen

3.) #RiseAndGrind

4.) #OMFG

5.) #BuyMePizza

Next Class season 3:

1.) #ImSleep

2.) #IRegretNothing

3.) #Woke

4.) #WorstGiftEver

5.) #BreakTheInternet

Next Class season 4:

1.) #Fire

2.) #KThxBye

3.) #Obsessed

4.) #FactsOnly

5.) #Preach

#Anonymous #Long post

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pavl0ve · 1 year ago

Text

to you (unfinished, off the top of my head)

It all started with some friends and a van a kick drum inside my ribs

Preaching electric into a microphone stand

Raise your red plastic cup

And Turn the laughter up

We fell asleep in the grass on the summer fest days

You’d never guess I’m still trying to get my head screwed on straight

All us believers still believe

Every time we sing “two more weeks”

Someone shoulda thrown us in a cell and swallowed the key

Somebody shoulda told us to leave em be

The only news we tuned in to was the traffic update

Nothing feels as close to home as nightime windows down on 88

Lax to berlin and back

Wake up on the west coast inside a flask

The good books in the drawer next to the bed you pissed in

passports a blur, full of stamps from places I missed you in

They’ll tell you everything about last night that you forget

Pack your suitcase, joes in the back smoking a jazz cigarette

They hated me before they ever loved me

I’m not ready for things to change

I miss you missing me in the good old days

Got stuck in the cell of you and me

I guess it still beat solitary

- Worry worry

- Put my head in such a flurry

- Freckle freckle

- What makes you so special

One of these days yr gonna wake up in heaven

Laugh about that night you got four stitches above your eye

when they let the guitars fly

Never trust a band that wouldn’t bleed for you

Never believe in anyone who wouldn’t drive through the night

(To you)

They never tell you in school you’ll feel so alone

Wake me up again when were in the same time zone

The way I’d take a cornfield over a coast

Multiply me times what you adore most

There were nights between yellow lines

When I confessed to you riding shotgun asleep under purple skies

They say

You get what you get

Well we

Got lost in the middle of nowhere

And you almost quit

Tonight

Come together

Come apart

You can get lonely when u

Only read the charts

Called everybody I knew in this life

Can we get it together just for tonite

I miss old friends and “play it agains”

Please Send my love,

to everyone above

#EVIL

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bobbydagen24 · 2 months ago

Text

What it mainly comes down to imo is having choices Bro zone had choices they could have comfortably lived with

Branch gave them a second chance yet they still chose to 1. show no remorse for abandoning the family 2. broke his boundaries time and time again while actively downplaying his feelings.

and 3. behave emotionally abusive towards him during the argument straight up belittling him over something which they knew he was greatly hurt about for no real reason

since its not like Branch actually said anything hurtful to them that could maybe explain why they would have behaved in such a cruel way towards him.

( Hence why I say its just straight up abusive behaviour )

Bruce and JD didn't have to do this they had choices Creek didn't outside of letting himself be violently killed he had no other options.

and he was simply placed in a much more dire situation than any other Troll in the movie ever was

since he was psychologically tortured by being locked in a dark tiny locket for hours on end with no air holes to the point he was desperately begging Bridget for help when Gristle let him out for a split second.

and he was literally in Gristle's mouth before he panicked and agreed to do whatever his captors wanted.

and from that point on he was kept on Gristle and Chef's persons at all times meaning the chance for rescue was impossible and even if he had gone back on the deal at any point

it really is most likely that Chef would have simply killed him both out of anger and maybe to try and scare any of the other trolls into giving up the village instead

meaning Creek never had the same choice his friends did of sitting put and holding out hope for the chance of rescue which eventually did come since Bridget let them out

but Creek never had this option it was either agree to do what they wanted or accept immediate gruesome death

( there is no right or wrong answer here since yes he had no right to expect the village to die for him but he also shouldn't be expected to die for the village either his life has equal value since he's just as innocent as any of them are )

look this is just my opinion and I know a lot of people disagree which ya know fair enough we all have our feelings on certain matters

but to me comparing Creek to characters who did bad things entirely of their own free will simply isn't a fair comparison ( like Barb and Veneer and Crimp and yes Bro zone )

its sorta like saying that someone who killed someone in self defence because they had no other choice is morally worse than someone who robbed a house and beat someone up a little bit

like yes the first person technically committed more harm but the second person is always gonna be worse to me for having the choice not to do the bad thing they did

but doing it anyway unlike the first person who had no choice other than to do the bad thing they did otherwise they would have lost their life.

anyway sorry for the lengthy post I just find it interesting to talk about as I feel the Creek situation is actually very complex and interesting

Hence why it bugs me that the movie dumbs it down to simply "" purple man pure evil for giving in to torture and fear of death "".

which is especially cruel to me in a franchise that so often preaches giving people who have done wrong a second chance such as Barb and Crimp and even Veneer to a certain extent.

but in the canon of the movies the tortured Hostage who betrayed people because he was about to be killed is seen as where we should draw the line on giving people second chances?

that's just hella iffy to me tbh.

BroZone vs Creek: Who is Worse?

Technically, Creek, but many say BroZone is worse. I understand most who have hatred toward BroZone abandonment issues, but Creek will always be worse, at least in my book. Why, you may ask? Well, first, let’s focus on what BroZone—as a collective—did.

What BroZone Did

BroZone was a boy band back in the day, who consisted of five members, all of whom were brothers: John Dory, Spruce (who now goes by Bruce), Clay, Floyd, and Branch (stage name Bitty B.) BroZone was a very popular boy band, and John Dory was a perfectionist at most.

John gave his fans false hope of performing the “Perfect Family Harmony,” a mere myth of something that is so powerful, it can shatter diamonds. He also told his family that if they aren’t perfect, they’re nothing. They performed for their fans, and they did as suspected: they failed. Yes, they almost succeeded, but didn’t in the end.

From this incident, the band broke up one by one and left, leaving baby Branch alone to raise his grandma, until she got eaten. This left Branch alone, and he had to raise himself.

Timeskip to when all are older, and the first one to find Branch is John Dory, so that they can save Floyd. However, John didn’t know that Branch was still alive, only having found out from when he (and Poppy) saved the world from the rock apocalypse. John got a card from Bruce, meaning they still stay in touch somewhat.

Clay moved in with Viva, Poppy’s long lost sister, and we have no idea about Floyd, save for being kidnapped. But when they went to recruit the brothers, all did not hesitate (Bruce did somewhat) to go help save Floyd.

They fought after John pressured them to be perfect again, and Branch left them this time, but to go save Floyd alone. Branch also mentioned that their grandma got eaten and he was alone, and they looked instantly guilty and worried about him. In the end, they all reunited and made up.

In short: they fought, but they made up in the end. They care about one another despite what happened.

Now, let’s focus on what Creek did.

What Creek Did

To save himself from not getting eaten, Creek revealed to Chef—a Bergen—where the other pop trolls were. He showed no remorse; in the show, he sort of felt bad, but was mostly arrogant and manipulative.

What’s important to note here is that, by giving away where all of the trolls were, he endangered countless trolls from elders to babies, all for his own selfish sake. He simply shrugged after ringing Poppy’s bell—the bell that indicated that she returned home safely—and showed no remorse when the trolls were captured.

So, Who is Worse?

From this logic, Creek is the worst of the two parties mentioned. He endangered several trolls for his own sake, and all BroZone did was have a sibling fight.

Creek will always remain the worst in this argument, and if you have anything to add, please do so.

#trolls brozone #trolls creek #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls branch

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syn0vial · 3 years ago

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The Official Star Wars Fact File: Zam Wesell

(Unofficial translation by me, syn0vial. Please forgive me for any mistakes, I've studied Spanish for some years but it's definitely not my first language!)

Zam Wesell was an exceptional figure that belonged to an equally exceptional species, the Clawdites. The bounty hunter was an unorthodox and extraordinary being who left a mark with her short life and career.

The Clawdites have always been oppressed and never been trusted. It is something that is accepted as natural in life. Their society arose due to a gene therapy that cured a sickness, but also created a new species, condemned to be exiled from the principle habitable zone of the planet Zolan. All Clawdites can change the color of their skin, but only a few are capable of altering the texture of it, and there are even fewer that can change its shape. Only a small number—very capable beings, dedicated and with great self-control—could take the form of another being for an indefinite period of time.

Shape-shifting results in great pain and discomfort for a Clawdite; they must use oils and ointments to stop their skin from becoming horribly cracked. Yet, in contrast to even the best of her species, Zam Wesell could not only change form with relative speed, but could maintain it while resting.

Combat Training

In Zolan society, those that deviated from the rigid secular norms were persecuted. Clawdite society was less restrictive, but even they showed apprehension about some of Zam Wesell's activities.

In the semi-anarchic society on the Clawdite-dominated continent of Sultur, where Zam was born and raised, the clans were governed by warriors known for their boastfulness. In general, the strongest prevailed, but even the boastful owed loyalty to their clan. Among them all, the best warriors of Zolan were the Mabari knights. They were part of a religious order that would not admit sinners among their novices. The religion of Zolan preached that the untruthful were the worst sinners of all. Despite this, Zam, when she was with them, successfully hid her true nature long enough to reach the third level of mastery in the Mabari martial arts, before being forced to flee Zolan.

Zam relocated to the corporate planet of Denon, where skills like hers were in great demand. The corporate security organizations always needed new employees and with Zam's shape-shifting ability, it didn't take much for her to ascend to the rank of sergeant. Nevertheless, this was only the beginning of her career. She calculated each step with utmost care; in this way, she quickly rose to become a very well-paid corporate bodyguard.

She was a self-proclaimed "progressive" and never forgot her planet and her people. She always sent huge sums of credits to Zolan, to radical Clawdite groups dedicated to the emancipation of their species; it is unknown whether she was truly invested in the situation of her species or if she only wished to provoke unrest.

Outlawed: Zam Wesell's journey before she became a bounty hunter was a winding one. She was denounced on her home-planet, Zolan, for being Clawdite and even more so, for her ability to shape-shift. After learning martial arts in a religious sect of warriors called Mabari, she abandoned her planet.

Clawdite Assassin

Since leaving Zolan for Denon, Zam Wesell had accepted work that provided huge profits and little excitement. Not much happened before she left her job as a bodyguard and sought a change of scenery.

Her experience in the risky world of industrial espionage on Denon had perfected Zam's deadly skills, while also allowing her to develop a web of contacts, financing, and gear to start her career in earnest. Finally, she could establish herself as a bounty hunter. She had adopted as her identity the appearance of a short, attractive female human, as a means of securing more work and hiding her true Clawdite face. With practice, although not without pain, she managed to maintain this appearance even while sleeping. She also adopted a uniform, a purple jumpsuit that could adapt to both her human and Clawdite forms, and that helped protect her skin.

Above the jumpsuit, she wore a flexible armored doublet and a protective skirt. The skirt's connected segments concealed an impact-absorbing system that offered protection against attacks from behind. Her helmet had its own light and incorporated a commlink under the veil that hid her face. In the heat of combat, her true Clawdite face could emerge, which the veil helped hide. Zam's belt had a series of compartments and essential devices for her profession, including the holster for her KYD-21 blaster. In front of her doublet, she carried a small respiratory device. These tubes inserted into Zam's body and allowed the device to function through her lungs if it was required by the atmosphere. The uniform came complete with a certain number of Mabari objects, among them an ancient cape clasp, an emblem on her helmet, and combat gloves. All these objects were ingraved with inscriptions from sacred Mabari texts.

We're bounty hunters, Zam, not heroes: The partnership of Zam and Jango Fett began long ago, long before she was contracted to kill Padme Amidala. The two bounty hunters respected each other. Zam had the honor of knowing the son of Jango, Boba Fett.

Elite Assassin

It was fated that the paths of Zam Wesell and Jango Fett would meet, but it would prove a very dangerous crossing.

Zam Wesell was considered one of the best bounty hunters of her generation, and she believed it. So it was logical that she would come to be known by Jango Fett, considered the number one in their profession.

One of their first encounters [Syn's notes: preceded five years by their true first encounter in the game Star Wars: Bounty Hunter] took place after Antonin Vigo, of the Black Sun, contracted Zam to kill Dreddon the Hutt. She took the form of a red-headed slave and successfully carried out the mission. Just as she was about to take her leave, Jango Fett appeared. Zam discovered that she was not going to be paid, nor was Jango, who had taken out Antonin at the behest of Dreddon.

Zam and Jango both knew of each other's reputations. The mutual respect that they had and their simiar ethics led them to allow one another to go on their way. However, the two would meet again shortly afterwards when a dug named Fernooda contracted Zam.

We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This: Zam and Jango were contracted to recover an ancient artifact. She let him do all the hard work; then ambushed him and made off with the idol.

Jango, you're always complaining about my shapeshifting: The mutant power of a Clawdite was very useful in her work and elongating her arm to grab hold of the idol that both she and Jango Fett were searching for. [Syn's notes: The presentation of this information is a little misleading. Zam catching the idol like this occurred well after this job for Fernooda, when both Zam and Jango were working together to keep Fernooda's boss from using it in a terrorist attack.]

I know that there's a man under that mask: Zam managed to get closer than anybody to the mysterious Jango Fett, with the exception of his son Boba. Even so, she knew that a relationship between them would affect her work, and thus decided not to push it further.

It was an awkward situation, since Fernooda had assigned the job to Jango, but had decided to ensure its success by also contracting the Clawdite. The aforementioned mission involved recovering an idol that had been in the possession of Fernooda's boss. Zam, who knew that Jango had also been contracted, let her rival do the dirty work before springing an ambush. This time, she insisted on seeing the face of the man under the mask. She was so transfixed on him, that she didn't realize there was an enormous insect, the guardian of the idol, about to attack her.

Without knowing why, Jango came to Zam's rescue and, recognizing that she was in his debt, she allowed him to leave with Fernooda's idol. Thus began the strange and exceptional relationship, even friendship, between Jango Fett and Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: As mentioned earlier, their association truly began with the events of Star Wars: Bounty Hunter, but perhaps this is the point things got a little more personal between them.]

Partners: Without a doubt, Zam and Jango worked well as partners. The question was whether they were willing to let their affection become more important than their work.

Mutual Empathy

Although it was nearly inevitable that Zam Wesell and Jango Fett should encounter one another again, the first reunion that occurred between the two bounty hunters did not go as either had expected.

At first glance, the mission seemed simple. It involved an assignment that Vigo Antonin, of Black Sun, had given to Zam Wesell, and the contracts from this organization were always lucrative. Certainly, the jobs offered to bounty hunters of Zam Wesell's level were never easy.

The target was Dreddon the Hutt. It was never a good idea to threaten Black Sun business and Vigo Antonin wanted to make an example of him. Zam used all the resources at her disposal to investigate and infiltrate Dreddon's organization. Her Clawdite powers allowed her to adopt the form of a human dancer that appealed to the Hutt. She needed all her concentration to maintain this form during a prolonged period, but Zam was very good at what she did. The disguise completely fooled Dreddon. Hutts are very difficult to kill.

Poisons and blasters could not guarantee that Dreddon wouldn't have time to call for his guards, so, to end his life, Zam restrained herself to placing a microbomb hidden in one of Dreddon's amphibian snacks when he was about to enjoy a private performance from his favorite dancer. The result was somewhat chaotic, but decisive.

A Private Affair

Just when she was about to leave, Zam heard someone approach. She grabbed her blaster and hid, waiting to see who could be intruding on her mission. She was almost happy to see Jango Fett, the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy, next to the corpse of his client.

Zam had successfully completed her mission and would soon receive a rich reward for her troubles. What's more, she could make fun of Jango Fett for the murder of his client. She had him at her mercy, pointing at him with her blaster, knowing who he was and what he was capable of.

Unfortunately, Zam's good humor soon went up in smoke. Jango had returned from completing a contract for Dreddon: killing Vigo Antonin! Thus, neither Zam nor Jango would be paid. Fett took the first opportunity to draw his blaster and with that both bounty hunters were in the same bind.

Zam was the first to lower her blaster, with her trademark style. With a twirl and a grin, she pointed out that the problem was that neither of them wanted to make the first move. She then flounced off, leaving Jango alone with his thoughts.

It's a weird rock: The artifact that Fett and Wesell had to recover was an idol that, as they would discover, bestowed mysterious powers upon its owner. [Syn's notes: ...If "mysterious powers" means "ownership of extremely explosive chunk of rock," then yes, that is correct.]

A New Contract

However, Zam needed work. The matter with Dreddon had left her without anything to show for it. A dug named Fernooda offered a contract shortly after she returned to her base of operations, but he warned her that he had already contracted another bounty hunter for the job in question: Jango Fett.

Zam readily accepted the job, since it seemed simple. Recovering a little statue from the natives of the jungle planet Seylott that had been stolen from Fernooda's boss. She had already decided to let Jango do the dirty work and ambush him at the temple's exit.

Jango's Revenge

It seemed that this time, Zam Wesell had won. She even managed to get Jango to remove his Mandalorian helmet. The scarred face she saw was handsome, if a bit gloomy. Then, a huge carnivorous insect attacked Zam from behind. The other bounty hunter ignored Zam's cries for help, taking the statue and running.

My client offered 50,000 Republic credits: The paths of Wesell and Fett crossed once again when the dug Fernooda contracted them to recover an object that the natives of Seylott had stolen from his boss. Immediately, the instinctive sense of rivalry returned between the two bounty hunters.

Heroes of Coruscant

Zam thought that she was doomed, Jango Fett had taken off, leaving her to be devoured by the enormous monster on Seylott.

While fighting to escape, Zam was surprised to see Jango return. He told her to take out all the explosives that she had on her and prepare to detonate them. Zam didn't have much option but to trust him, although she wasn't sure that he wouldn't get both of them killed. Fortunately, Fett's jetpack got them out of trouble. Zam picked up Jango's helmet from amidst the smoke and the dust left from the creature's destruction, gave it to him, and allowed him to take Fernooda's idol; afterwards, she turned and left, smiling as she told Jango to take care until next time. There would be a next time, Zam assured her rival, although this didn't seem to bother Fett.

However, Wesell wasn't satisfied. She had heard rumors here and there, and soon learned the truth about her mission on Seylott. The idol had been under the power of the Force-sensitive natives. The Annoo-Dat general Ashaar Khorda wanted the idol to use as a weapon capable of generating explosions that could destroy an entire planet. Even worse, Khorda's target was Coruscant.

Zam traveled quickly to Kamino, where she met with Jango and, to her surprise, with his young son Boba. She believed that Boba's mother had been killed and Jango said nothing to the contrary. Instead, he listened impatiently to Zam's story about the idol. Zam ended by saying that, since she and Jango had found the weapon, they owed it to the people of Coruscant to stop Khorda's plan.

Under the Mask: Zam Wesell was one of the few people who could elicit affection from the harsh and implacable Jango Fett

A Matter of Conscience

Jango wasn't interested, since he wouldn't be paid for the work and his son needed him on Kamino, but Zam convinced him that there were countless children that needed him on Coruscant. Jango Fett, an orphan rescued by strangers, softened his position and finally accepted his first time working together with Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: Again, second time since Star Wars: Bounty Hunter.]

Zam had seen Khorda's right-hand man, the dug Fernooda. Thus, she took on his appearance in order to discover Khorda's and his lackeys' plans. They found out that Fernooda planned to place the idol in one of the planet's central reactors, where the explosion would cause a chain reaction that would destroy the planet completely.

Jango and Zam, along with a solitary Jedi, found the mad killer, after following the clues that he and his gang had left. Together, the three proceeded to defeat the gang and recover the idol. The Jedi could absorb the Force of the idol and leave it without power once more; although at the cost of his life.

Safe Return: Zam Wesell worked together with Jango Fett to seize a powerful Force artifact and return it to its owners. She managed to convince Jango to accept the mission.

Zam and Jango took the idol back to Seylott, earning them the gratitude of the natives. They were requested not to return ever again, something that the bounty hunters had no intention of doing. Upon returning to Kamino, Zam was not fooled by Jango's complaints of not being paid, since she knew that, deep down, he knew that returning the idol had been the right thing to do. It was the same impulse that had saved her on Seylott. She said goodbye to Jango with a kiss on his scarred cheek, so he wouldn't feel it had all been for nothing. It seemed that Zam had won again.

Altruistic Mission: Zam's desire to prevent the deaths of millions of people in a terrorist attack shows that she had a certain sense of conscience.

The Final Mission

Jango Fett made an atypical decision: subcontract Zam for the most dangerous assignment.

Jango wanted to spend more time with his son Boba. The boy's education was very important to him. However, the most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had many offers of work. He accepted most of them and the rest he passed on to Zam Wesell. She worked alone most of the time, although they worked together occasionally, to the benefit of both of them.

Assassination Contract

A man that Jango knew as Tyranus, the same that had given him work with the Kaminoans, requested that he accept a special mission. It involved the killing of a high-order politician who had interfered in Tyranus's business. The pay was very good and Jango was happy to be able to pass it on to Zam Wesell. It seemed like a simple job.

The target was a senator dedicated to public life, something that would make her an easy target for an intelligent assassin. However, the target was also a queen of Naboo, friend of the Jedi and a central figure to the supreme Chancellor of the Republic.

Direct Hit: Ostensibly, Zam Wesell had killed the senator Padme Amidala with a bomb on her ship, but the victim ended up being a decoy, making it necessary to take another approach.

Reckless Driving: Zam realized that she was being pursued by Jedi. Her skill at the wheel of a speeder allowed her to traverse the busiest districts of Coruscant, but her pursuers wouldn't give up the chase.

To Kill a Senator

Zam chose the occasion carefully.The target was to return to Coruscant for a crucial vote, and her landing would be predictable enough. Zam used her capacity for shapeshifting to discover the time and place of Senator Padme Amidala's return.

With her usual cunning, Zam managed to place a bomb on the target's landing platform and then left to observe from the heights of a building a kilometer away. From there, she waited for the moment of truth. Amidala's silvery ship landed, flanked by fighters. The senator came down from the ramp and the moment her foot stepped onto the platform, Wesell detonated the explosive. There were few survivors and the news was full of stories and images of Zam's success.

Double Action

Zam Wesell believed she had completed the mission, but her satisfaction was short-lived. Amidala was apparently alive in the rotunda of the Senate at the end of the day, a very irritating outcome. The woman killed on the landing platform was a double. Fett was angry, along with his client. There could be no more mistakes.

Fett spoke with Zam and gave her a glass tube with two kouhuns inside. He cautioned her that they were extremely venomous, since she wasn't an amateur.

The bounty hunters counted on an ASN-121 droid, programmed with the location of Amidala's quarters, to deposit the deadly cargo. Then, Zam sat and waited for the return of the robot.

It was emiting an alert signal. Zam saw through her scope a Jedi holding onto the droid. Not even the droid's destruction could shake the Jedi, and soon she was being pursued through all of Coruscant, with her skills as a pilot put to the test.

Just when she thought she had lost them, one of the Jedi jumped onto her speeder. In the subsequent skirmish, her vehicle was damaged and she was forced to land. She sought refuge in a bar with the Jedi close behind.

Death of a Hunter

Seeing one of the Jedi at the bar, Zam approached as close as she dared, knowing that he could deflect a blaster bolt if warned in time. Unfortunately, the Jedi was much more astute, igniting his lightsaber with a twirl and severing Zam's hand that held her blaster. The pair of Jedi dragged Wesell's wounded body into an alley to interrogate her.

Ground Chase: Zam, without her speeder which had been damaged, had to flee on foot. She got into a bar, where she intended to ambush her pursuers, but Obi-Wan Kenobi attacked her with his lightsaber before she could fire; Wesell was badly injured.

One of them, the younger one, pressed Zam to reveal the name of her client. At first, she resisted, but then, after the Jedi spoke again, began to tell her captors what she knew.

The poison dart that Jango shot ended Zam's life before she could speak a word. She died quickly from the venom's deadly effects; she didn't suffer. This was the last thing that Fett could do for a friend.

#zam wesell #jango fett #boba fett #whew! this took a while :`D #please let me know if any of my translation needs to be corrected; i'm definitely an amateur when it comes to translating!#star wars fact file #star wars fact file 71 #the official star wars fact files

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smstrouse · 5 years ago

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Jesus Brings Division?! Say What?!

Do you think I am here to bring peace on earth? I tell you, the opposite is true: I’ve come to bring division. – Jesus

This text is why pastors, if they’re smart, go on sabbatical during August and avoid this gospel text. Here we have a version of Jesus that is glaringly inconsistent with what we’re used to. I mean, is this the same Jesus we sing about at Christmas as the ‘Prince of Peace’? The…

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#Christianity #current-events #division #ELCA Churchwide Assembly #faith #Hands Across the Hills #Hearts Across the Divide #James Mattis #LUKE 12: 49-56 #Paula Green #politics #Preaching in the Purple Zone #red-blue divide #religion #United Religions Initiative

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myheartrevealedocs · 4 years ago

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Untouchable Ch 29: Amplification (S4E24)

Warnings: swearing (a lot of it), illness, hospitals

Ch 28 | Ch 30

~ ~ ~

“I’m picking you up from work. Now.”

Lydia sighed, glad that it was her break and she wasn’t in the middle of teaching class. But then again… Spencer already knew that. “Just once I’d like to get a case and be told ‘you can drop by when you’re done with what you’re working on.’ No worries. Sending out emails now.”

“Sorry. It’s local, if that helps.”

Lydia’s eyebrows knit together suspiciously. “Local? Local cases are never my cases. If it were, I probably would have heard something, right?”

“I don’t know anything about the case,” he admitted. “Hotch called and he said he needed everyone now, you included.”

Lydia shut her laptop, already stuffing it into her work bag. “I’ll meet you out front.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia had stuffed herself into the back of the elevator with Spence, Morgan, and Prentiss, so when the doors opened, she didn’t immediately see what made the three of them stop.

“What’s the army doing here?” Morgan said.

Lydia stepped to the side to get a better look at the crowd of people rushing through the BAU office.

“What the hell is going on?” Emily muttered.

Spencer was the first to set off for the conference room, Lydia joining him immediately if only to get away from the insane amount of people in the bullpen.

Inside were Hotch, Rossi, JJ, and a woman.

“Guys, this is Dr. Linda Kimura, Chief of Special Pathogens with the CDC.”

“Hello,” Emily said.

“Hello. I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” Reid inquired, but Hotch stopped him.

“We need to get started.”

JJ cleared her throat, ready to take over the briefing. Lydia could tell it was going to be a quick summary, with no slides, few files to share, and no time to sit down.

“Last night, 25 people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after 2pm yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It’s now just past 7am the next day, we have 12 dead.”

Looking over her boyfriend’s shoulder, Lydia could see large welts across the victims faces and necks. Purple rings lined the deads’ eyes.

“Lung failure and black lesions,” Morgan read aloud. “Anthrax?”

Spencer shook his head. “Anthrax doesn’t kill this fast.”

“This strain does,” Dr. Kimura admitted.

Lydia’s eyes shot to their expert. She could see why Hotch felt the need to bring her in, but a new strain of anthrax was far out of her comfort zone, especially in a time when people were dying quickly. This would take a team of people in a lab running trial after trial to find a cure. These poor people were doomed.

Lydia wouldn’t know anything about the strain, she could only come up with a vague idea about what sort of background a person would need to create this, and there were so many people already involved in whatever this was.

“What are we doing about potential mass targets?” Prentiss inquired. “Airports, malls, trains?”

“There’s a media blackout,” Hotch replied.

“We’re not telling the public?”

“We’d have a mass exodus,” Morgan explained.

“Psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack.”

“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did it might go underground or destroy their samples.”

“Or,” Emily tried to argue, “if they wanted attention and didn’t get it, they might attack again. Doesn’t the public have a right to know that?”

“If there is another attack, there’s no way we’ll be able to keep it quiet,” Hotch assured her. “Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can.”

“What do we know about this strain?” Lydia interrupted, grabbing the files from Spencer to get a closer look.

Dr. Kimura answered, “the spores are weaponized, reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odorless and invisible.”

“A sophisticated strain,” Rossi reasoned. “Only a scientist would know how to do that.”

Lydia nodded.

“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours.”

“It’s not the lesions I’m worried about,” Dr. Kimura warned. “It’s the lungs. We don’t know how to combat the toxins once they’re inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”

“Reid, Ambers, go to the hospital with Dr. Kimura. Reid will interview victims. Ambers, I want you in the lab updating us on blood tests and toxicology reports.”

They nodded, Spencer throwing his satchel over his shoulder.

“Morgan and Prentiss, there’s a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. There’s cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

Dr. Kimura grabbed a tray of pills from a desk along the side of the room. “We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something.”

Lydia picked up a plastic cup with two pills inside and glanced around. Everyone hesitated, knowing that for the rest of this case, they’d be risking a lot. This wasn’t chasing down bad guys with guns, but rather with immunity. Their kevlar vests wouldn’t protect them from the air.

“Jin dan,” Rossi said, raising his cup. “May you live 100 years.”

~ ~ ~

Spencer was fidgeting in the passenger seat of the car as they drove to Walter Reed hospital with Dr. Kimura. “What did you tell your students, Lydia?”

She shrugged. “What I normally do. Just that I was called into work by the FBI. They don’t normally ask where I’m headed or why. It’s strange. For the first time since I became a professor, I’m worried about them.”

“I guess you’re right,” he mumbled. “This is going to affect everyone in the DC area.”

“I mean, what would a cure for this even look like? The only person who has any idea how it differs from normal anthrax is our unsub. He’s got to have some kind of antidote, right?”

“Let’s hope he does,” Spencer replied. “For now, building the profile is Hotch and Rossi’s doing. Our job is to find out what we can about the victims and their symptoms.”

~ ~ ~

“How many more have died since this morning?”

“Five,” Spencer admitted. “We’re up to 17 dead.”

“It’s no good,” she sighed, having stepped out of the lab momentarily to call him. “The drug combinations are useless. We don’t know anymore about this strain than they did this morning.”

“Dr. Kimura says the strain duplicates every 30-45 minutes, poisoning the lungs and causing organ failure.”

“Extreme bacterial amplification,” she replied. “That’s insane.”

“I’m thinking whoever created this had to have gone through the trouble of testing it.”

“That would make sense, but who’s to say the park wasn’t his test run?”

“It’s too risky. Human tests are done on a much smaller scale. What do you know about illnesses that have similar symptoms to anthrax poisoning?”

“Not much,” she admitted. “I’ll talk to Garcia and do some digging about weird medical deaths in the area.”

“Thanks.”

~ ~ ~

“Tell me you got something good, Spice.”

“I rarely find myself giving out good news, Sugar,” Garcia admitted. “However, I did find some strange deaths for you. Two days ago, three people in the Baltimore area checked into 3 different ERs, slipping into comas and dying within 3 hours. The COD on all three was meningitis, but they were never tested for anthrax. Is that what you were looking for?”

“Possibly. The respiratory problems would be similar, but the lesions would have definitely signalled to the doctors it was something else. You said they died within 3 hours?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s fast. They likely had to have inhaled a high concentration of anthrax if that were the case. But, it would also make it harder to identify. See if those three were in the same place that day and contact Hotch.”

“On it.”

~ ~ ~

“Lydia?”

She huffed. “What’s up, Derek?”

“Don’t get pissy on me,” he teased.

“All I’ve done all day is answer calls and get told once an hour that someone else has died. My mood has limits.”

“I’m pulling you from the hospital. We’re going to the house of a Dr. Lawrence Nichols. Fits our profile.”

“Great.” As she spoke she slipped out of the hospital lab and towards the elevator. “What’s this profile?”

“Fanatical,” he summarized. “Dr. Nichols got booted from Fort Detrick after the Amerithrax case. He was afraid of anthrax being weaponized against the US and was preaching stronger protection from the government.”

“If he was against anthrax, what makes you think he’d use it?”

“A warning. He was told that we couldn’t spend billions of dollars to fight against an attack that may never happen. This is his way of saying, ‘You should have listened to me. Now it’s too late.’”

“Got it. I’ll meet you outside Walter Reed.”

“Good.”

Hanging up, she sent a quick message to Spencer to let him know she was leaving the hospital, then made a break for the front entrance.

~ ~ ~

“It’s quaint,” Lydia said, stepping out of the SUV and waiting for Morgan to walk around the car and join her.

The Nichols house had cute rose bushes around the front and all the windows had white trim. Classic suburban look.

“Nicer than a hospital, I bet.”

She huffed. “I cannot thank you enough for getting me out of there. I don’t know how Reid is able to talk to these people, knowing that they’re doomed.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Morgan countered. “To make sure they aren’t doomed.”

A team in protective gear had arrived before them to search the house. There was no one there, luckily enough, as Nichols was supposedly at work. And the team had yet to notify them of any contamination, but until they were certain, she and Morgan had to stay outside.

The two of them wandered towards the backyard, looking at all the greenery and sweeping for anything suspicious, but frankly, if Nichols was harboring anthrax, he would have kept it at his lab. As soon as the team inside was done, all she and Morgan had to do was the usual profiling stuff. Does this man have a motive to commit mass murder and all that jazz.

Lydia was so caught up in the difference between the well trimmed front lawn to the overgrown backyard that she didn’t hear Morgan’s cell start ringing, nor did she take notice of the fact that he stopped walking to answer it.

There was a small stone fountain, which was completely dry, in front of a decaying garage in the back. The shed was designed exactly like the house, but its paint was faded and chipping and the plants clung to it like it had been long abandoned in the weeds.

It didn’t look like anyone had been in there for years, and yet all the doors and windows were open.

As she crept towards the sliding glass door along the side, her hand went to the gun at her belt. He should be at work, but frankly, unsubs were never where you expected them to be. So, to be careful, she unclipped her weapon and kept a hand on it as she leaned inside.

“Hello? Dr. Nichols? It’s the FBI!”

Nothing…

Hesitantly, she stepped inside and didn’t take a moment to realize how bad of an idea that was. Directly across from the door was clearly a work desk, and yet, she didn’t take into consideration that he might have worked on his toxins at his house.

And so, as she stepped around the corner to find Dr. Nichols’s body with a shattered tube of white powder on the floor, it took her a moment to process what this meant.

Powder… anthrax… deadly. The AC was on, meaning the toxin was circulating the air and she had most certainly been exposed.

Deadly.

Her hand shot up to her mouth, quickly covering it with the fabric of her shirt to filter out some of the powder from the air. Funny enough, the dead body was the furthest thing from her mind. Her next plan of action was to cover the broken pieces of glass so that whatever powder was left on the floor wouldn’t be swept up into the air. She could worry about the AC in a second.

“Ambers?”

Fuck, Morgan.

She couldn’t let him inside. It was too dangerous. But if she left, the BAU might never get the chance to search the lab before the rest of the infected died. It would take too long to clear the garage. No, she had to stay, even if it meant increasing the concentration in her lungs.

Flipping around, she shut the sliding door, locking it just as Morgan appeared.

“Ambers!”

“Get back!” she insisted, looking around wildly for the closest open window to shut, one hand still holding her shirt over her face. “Get out of here!”

“What are you doing?! What’s wrong?”

He rushed over to the window with her, but wasn’t fast enough. “Don’t! STAY AWAY, MORGAN!”

“Tell me what’s going on!”

“I’VE BEEN EXPOSED!”

His face and Lydia’s heart both dropped at the same time.

What had she done?

“Morgan,” she started, trying to keep her mind off of her death sentence, “I need you to tell the team that Nichols is dead.”

“He’s what?!”

“He’s been murdered,” she explained, stepping away from the window so that he could see the body behind her. “Blunt force trauma to the head. I have to stop the anthrax circulation in the room and then I can start to profile what happened.”

“What? No! Lydia, you have to get out of there so we can take you to the hospital!”

“Derek, Dr. Kimura said the only thing they can do at the hospital is give me morphine! If we wait for a team to clear the room before we profile, those people at the hospital will die. I might die. If I stay here, maybe I can find a cure.”

“I don’t like this, Lydia,” he grumbled. “Think about Spencer-”

“I am! We’ve seen what this toxin does to people. I have a few hours before I become incapable of doing my job. My chances of surviving increase tremendously if I spend those hours doing work. Trust me. I can do nothing from the hospital.”

He nervously gave her a once over, as if he’d be able to see how bad it was, before pulling out his cell and stepping away from the garage.

~ ~ ~

By the time Hotch got there, Lydia had turned off the AC unit, found a lab mask to cover her face, and given Morgan a rundown on the state of Nichols’s body. There was no way he was responsible for the attack at the part, because he had been dead for at least 2 days. The fact that he had anthrax here likely meant someone had murdered him to take his samples.

“Ambers,” Hotch answered his phone from across the backyard, looking at her through the window.

“Does Spencer know yet?” she demanded.

“Yes. He’s on his way now.”

“How did he take it?”

“How do you expect, Lydia?” Morgan hissed, clearly listening in on the conversation.

“I didn’t mean to do this,” she argued, glancing around the room. “But I’m going to stay and look for a cure, or at the very least, some more information on this strain and I’ll try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols.”

Hotch took over once more. “Okay, we’re going to get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother. I’m already infected. I’ve stopped the airflow for now, so my condition won’t get worse. I need to spend my time working the case.”

“Alright. What do you see?”

“He has cages stacked against the back wall, filled with dead animals,” she began, getting into work mode. “He struggled before he died. Um… there’s some oddly empty spots on shelves, which leads me to believe the murderer robbed him as well. Nothing personal in here, clearly it was only meant to be a workshop or lab of sorts. There are two desks. One is a mess but the other totally organized…”

“Two different work spaces?” It was Derek’s voice again.

“Yeah, um…” She started to flip through a journal on one of the desks and paused. “I think our unsub was working here with Nichols. These look like research notes. Stuff that Nichols would already know, considering he has a doctorate.” She ran back to the cluttered desk to look over some loose papers. “Yep. Two clearly different sets of handwriting. Maybe he took on a protege?”

“Ambers, Morgan is going to stay with you and help profile Nichols. I’m going to go back to the BAU and try to figure out who this protege might be.”

“Don’t worry about me, Hotch,” she said, hearing the edge in his voice. He didn’t want to leave her here. “I feel fine. I’m good at this stuff. If there’s a cure, I’ll find it.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia prepared herself for the worst as Spencer grew closer. Reckless together. That was her promise. Getting herself into this situation was exactly what he was talking about after the Colorado case. But she really hadn’t meant to end up here. She felt like there was no better way after being exposed. She was being as careful as she could. But their last fight hadn’t been good.

She was listing excuses in her mind. Building up a strong argument for when he got here and inevitably lost his shit on her.

It was almost ironic that their last fight had been about her putting up walls between them and now, she was quite literally locking him out. But as she had promised to be careful, he had promised not to rush in to save her. And that included walking into a building of toxic air.

Her phone began to buzz in her pocket and she took several deep breaths before looking at the caller ID.

Spencer was here.

“Hey, love,” she said softly, not wanting to look outside and see him there. With Morgan. Probably pissed as hell.

But he matched her tone perfectly: gentle and concerned. “Lydia, how are you feeling?”

Her breath caught on all the things she was planning to say when he yelled at her. She wasn’t sure where to go with that response. “The… um… The fever’s kicking in. I’m unnaturally warm. But I’ve been super careful to lower my exposure, I promise! I didn’t mean to-”

“I know, honey. I know. Stay calm. Keep working. You’re gonna be alright.”

God, she never really knew with him, did she? Of course he wasn’t happy she was there, but he kept his promise. He was trusting her. And for the first time today, she didn’t feel like she had to convince everyone that everything was normal. They both knew her odds were unfortunately low at the moment and they weren’t going to spend this time arguing.

“Dr. Kimura came with me. She’s suiting up to come in with the decon team.”

“Good.”

There was a long pause, before he said, “Lydia, come to the window.”

She originally had thought she was avoiding his gaze because she had expected him to be angry, but stepping up to the glass and seeing him at the edge of the lawn, as close as the CDC would allow him to get, brought a new meaning to the word guilt.

She didn’t just break her promise of being with him when the bad things happened. There was a chance that in a few hours, a few painful, painful hours, she might leave him. She might die. And Spencer… he didn’t deserve that.

“Lydia,” he began, looking her over carefully. “I love you so, so much, you hear me?”

She nodded, feeling tears begin to well up in the back of her throat.

“You keep fighting in there, alright? Fight and fight until we find a cure.”

“I know,” she gulped. “I know. I- I- I-”

She froze as a violent chill ran up her spine, causing her to lose her train of thought. Spencer's face broke momentarily, giving away his fear and anguish.

“I’m sorry. I… love you, too, Spence,” she finally forced out. “More than you will ever know.”

“Hopefully in an hour you’ll be out of there and you can try to tell me.”

“Of course,” she smiled, halfheartedly. “I will.”

She had to hang up the call as she heard the decon team start to file in.

She turned around to find Dr. Kimura approaching her directly. “Dr. Ambers.”

“Dr. Kimura,” she smiled, trying to hide how nauseous she was beginning to feel. “You look nice.”

She glanced down at the red and grey suit she wore and laughed along. “I haven’t been in this outfit in a while.”

“How are the patients doing?” she asked, before mentally kicking herself. She didn’t want to know how many more had died. She didn’t need that weighing her down.

Luckily, Dr. Kimura seemed to think the same. “Let's worry about you.”

“I feel fine,” she deflected. “I don’t think I’ve inhaled that much.”

“I see you’re being careful,” she noted with a nod to Lydia’s mask, “but if you feel any pain, I can give you something.”

“Oh, I don’t think giving me morphine is a good idea.”

Dr. Kimura raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Are you sure? Some pain medication might make you feel more comfortable.”

Lydia shook her head quickly. “Don’t worry. In my line of work, you learn to focus despite your discomfort.”

Dr. Kimura still looked hesitant to let go of the subject.

“I feel fine,” she tried again. “I should work at the task at hand.”

“Ok. Tell me how I can help.”

Thank god. She could get back on track. Between Morgan, Hotch, Spence, and Dr. Kimura, she would never find the cure. Everyone would be too busy worrying about her condition.

“The team believes that there’s a cure for this strain within this lab,” she explained. “Our profile for Nichols says he’s secretive, and likely, he’s paranoid. So he would be protective of the cure. Probably hid it from his partner. Look for something totally unsuspicious.”

“Alright…” Dr. Kimura hesitated, knowing that those instructions were too broad. But Lydia didn’t have anything else. Her profiling skills didn’t go as far as the others. And she didn’t have the same information on Nichols or the partner that the others might be getting from Quantico.

Her phone rang sharply and she almost jumped at the vibrations in her pocket.

Fuck, she was succumbing quickly. Disoriented, panicked, nauseous.

“Hello?” she asked, trying not to cough violently after saying it. Her throat was starting to dry.

“How’s it going in there, kiddo?” Morgan replied.

“I’ve seen better days,” she admitted, hoarsely.

“Well, you’ve got me, Reid, and Garcia.”

“Hey, Sugar.”

Lydia couldn’t stop herself from smiling and was almost through the word “Spice” when the coughing fit finally took over.

“Lydia, stick with me. Listen, Rossi and Prentiss don’t think the partner is a coworker. Can you tell us anything else about him?”

God, she was hot. She wiped her brow and tried to run her fingers through the tangled, sweaty mess that was her hair. “I don’t… I’m not sure. I looked through all the drawers, but I can’t-”

“Come on now, kiddo. I know you’re not thinking straight, but the Lydia I know would not stop looking.”

All she wanted to do was sleep. She didn’t care if Morgan called her lazy. She didn’t care if it wasn’t like her to quit. But then she remembered all those people at the hospital who were dying. They needed a break in the case. Now. She had to at least try to give that to them.

“Alright,” she mumbled, headed straight for the partner’s desk. “We think this partner is more like a protege, right? He clearly doesn’t know as much about the chemistry of anthrax than Nichols would. So maybe he was one of Nichols’s students?”

“Nichols stopped teaching ages ago. Any of his students would likely be far more advanced now than what you described from the partner’s notes.”

She flipped through everything she had left on the desk from her last search through the doors. “You’re right. These look more like my freshman year of college notes. Basics…” A large huff escaped her lips as she desperately attempted to swallow more air. Could you drown in your own sweat? “Wait, wait- I’m looking at something here. My best guess is it’s a thesis and based on the marks in red along the sides, Nichols has been correcting it. So maybe, not one of his students, but a local PhD student, looking for help on their thesis about anthrax?”

“I can look up local PhD students,” Garcia cut in.

“Yeah, check the sciences,” Morgan told her. “Biochemistry, microbi-”

“No, wait-” Lydia cut in through another coughing fit. “A science PhD student wouldn’t have all these other notes. It’s the only part that doesn’t line up with…” She trailed off, trying to skim what he had written, but it was so hard to concentrate.

“Lydia?”

Spencer… finally.

“Lydia, you’re almost done. We’re so close to getting you out of there. Is there anything else you can tell us about this student?”

She closed her eyes, soaking in his voice, without really considering what he was asking of her. “Okay...okay…” Eyes open again, she turned the thesis back to the opening page, a table of contents. “The chapters are on setting up mobile emergencies-” She fumbled for her words. “Emergency rooms. That’s not… Science students don’t care about city preparedness.”

“Garcia, check with students in the social studies,” Spence ordered. “Public policy, urban planning. And cross check those with-”

“-Former employees and customers with grievances at the bookstore,” she finished for him. “Hot to trot. There’s a Chad Brown, school of public policy at U of M. Matches a Chad Brown, former employee at the book front.”

“That’s gotta be him,” Morgan said

“Totally. He’s been in the doctoral program on and off for five years. Nix on a steady job. Was slapped with a restraining order from his former girlfriend and has been arrested and released twice at protest rallies in DC. I’ll tell Hotch.”

Garcia spoke so fast that by the time Lydia had put Brown’s thesis down, she had already dropped off the call.

“You did good, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Morgan,” she rasped.

“Now it’s time for you to get the hell out of there,” Spencer demanded.

It wasn’t a cure, but Lydia was feeling so sick, she didn’t care. She’d done her best. Maybe it really was time to hit the hospital and succumb to the morphine.

“Yeah. Bye.”

She started to move towards the exit, knowing that they would have to decontaminate her before getting her into the ambulance, but was stopped on her way.

“Dr. Ambers!” Dr. Kimura called. “You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn’t suspect. What about Nichols’s inhaler?”

...smart.

Very smart.

“Bag it as evidence,” she ordered. “I have to hope this is it. But I can’t stay.”

The older woman nodded, likely seeing the sway as Lydia stood before her, or the sweat slipping down her neck. “Let’s get you to the hospital and I’ll have this sent to your lab.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said, smiling through the pain.

~ ~ ~

The rest of the day was a blur. Lydia had small snippets of memory: the moment Derek left to help the rest of the team, having the get hosed down and changed into a hospital gown outside of Nichols’s house, Spencer promising to meet her at the hospital. But after the fog cleared up from her mind she was positive that those would disappear as well.

She let her eyes crack open and swallowed a groan. Her nose was burning and itchy from the plastic tubes connecting her to a breathing machine and her voice was practically gone. She didn’t want to open her eyes fully because at the moment, her head was a dull ache, but she was sure the lights would cause a full blown migraine.

Spencer was holding onto her left hand with his right, his own left arm a makeshift pillow underneath his head.

On the opposite side of the room, Derek and Penelope were leaning against a wall, talking quietly. Morgan had a red Jell-O cup in his hand.

“You know, Derek,” she mumbled, softly, “I think hospital Jell-O is meant for the patients.”

They both looked over at her smiles spreading across their faces.

“Hey, kiddo,” Morgan said, matching her vocal level to not wake Spencer. “Hey doc,” he directed outside the room. “Look who’s back.”

Dr. Kimura wandered in next, standing at the edge of Lydia’s bed to speak to her. “Hey, Dr. Ambers. How are you feeling?”

“What happened?” she asked, glancing between her friends and the doctor.

“You’re gonna be alright,” Morgan prefaced. “And we got Brown. It’s over.”

“And the other patients? Did any of them…?”

“The four who were still alive are on the mend,” Garcia finally said, anxious to spread joy after the day she’d had. “You were right, Lydia. You saved them.”

“I didn’t-”

“Uh-uh,” Morgan interrupted. “I will have none of that. You put a lot on the line to find that cure. To find Brown. We all got a happy ending after what you did. Bask in it for a minute.”

She rolled her eyes teasingly and turned to check in on her boyfriend once more. He was still peacefully sleeping across his elbow, his long hair shielding his eyes from her.

“He was very worried for you,” Dr. Kimura told her.

“I was worried about him,” was all Lydia said, gently squeezing his hand.

“How long do you think you two are going to do this back and forth thing?” Morgan teased. “One of you is always worried about the other.”

“When we lose our impulse control,” Lydia replied, but stopped, thinking of something better. “When we lose our hearts.”

Tags: @kris-stuff, @wooya1224, @bispences, @anotherr-fine-mess, @eddysocs

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 5 years ago

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New People

Danny personally felt that he was well within his rights to be a bit weirded out by what was going on. He was on his way to school, getting interrupted by some half-formed spider ghost with threads all over the place that he had to dodge out of the way of before he could even get close to shooting it, Tucker was freaking out and Sam was doing her best to shoot away the webs that Danny actually got caught in. It took quite a bit of time to squish much of the bug and then get it in the thermos. During this time, Danny got hit by its pincers and bitten, and the wound was exposed and dripping ectoplasm and some thick purple goop that he assumed was venom. Things were the standard amount of bad.

The unusual thing was when a ghost with blue skin, pink eyes, and rippling hair that shifted colors between red, yellow and orange flew up to him and gently grabbed his arm. And then he pulled out a cotton ball from his pocket and started dabbing Danny’s wound. “Yikes, this is a nasty bite. You’re Danny Phantom, right? The bridge spirit?”

“Uh,” Danny looked down at his friends, who shrugged, weapons trained on the newcomer. “Yeah, I’m the halfa Danny Phantom.” The guy snorted and Danny scowled. “What’s so funny?”

“Halfa sounds like something my son would’ve called it when he was 7.” Once the cotton ball was soaked through it was put in a ziplock that vanished off to somewhere and a water bottle was poured over it instead, followed by a cloth. “I’m Dr. Jason Pace. Nice to meet you.”

Danny stared at the man while he cleaned his cut with wide eyes. “There are ghost doctors?” It felt like a dumb question, doctors died as much as anyone else, but with all the violent ghosts that came through it was weird to see someone who specialized in helping people.

“Death is hardly enough to keep a medic from helping people who need attention,” Jason said with a chuckle. “When I woke up in the Infinite Realms I met this big burly werewolf in a hoodie who said he was here to take me where I’m supposed to go but he got to me late, and I thought ‘wow, psychopomps are real and they can be behind schedule.’”

“Did. Did this werewolf happen to speak Esperanto?”

“Yeah, said his name is Wulf. I told him that wasn’t very original and he agreed. Then I told him that I needed to see my husband and he cut open a hole back to the living realm about two weeks after my death, and after a very passionate and emotional night, I headed back into work and just sorta. Kept doing what I do.” He hummed, holding up the cloth and setting it on fire before tossing it behind him, where Danny watched it turn to ashes before it made it five feet above the ground. He swiped the purple goop with a q-tip, and then a bunch of vials of glowing liquid appeared from thin air, spinning around him in a lazy orbit. “Poisonous and venomous ghost animals are horrors and ecto entomologists can kiss my ass if they wanna preach about preserving species.”

“What… are you doing?”

“Ah that’s what it is- you’re going to feel numb in a couple of seconds, which is perfectly normal, but then your core will start to go … well let’s just say I’m glad I got to you in time.” One of the vials stopped, the swab burned up like the cloth, and a syringe was put into play. “This is an antivenom. Please don’t squirm, or this will hurt more.” Jason pressed the needle over where a vein should’ve been, and Danny hissed at the sharp prick of pain. Then a lollipop of all things was presented to him. “Hope you like blueberry.”

“So, what I’m gathering is that you just wanna treat people and you came up to me cause I got bit by a spider. I don’t remember my folks ranting about a doctor ghost tricking the people at the hospital into dastardly plans so I’m gonna guess you’re not from around here.”

“Oh, this isn’t why I came to your town of course, but yeah this is the thing I’m gonna be doing.” The syringe needle, once removed, was disintegrated like the rest, and a bandage was stuck on Danny’s arm before his suit could reform around it. “You should be good… and don’t worry, I don’t mess with people’s heads. I just help people. And yes, I know how to help bridge spirits like yourself.” He held out a business card and gave a two-fingered salute. “Give that a little charge if you need me. Bye!”

They watched Jason fade from sight and Danny stared at where he’d been with wide eyes, blinking rapidly. “What the f-”

“We need to get to school!” Sam shouted, drawing his attention down to his best friends. Danny dove down and scooped them both up, turning invisible and flying toward the school. “Oh, wow, ok.”

“So that was weird, right?”

“That was really fuckin weird, yeah,” Tucker said. “I guess it makes sense that there’d be ghost doctors, hospitals are the evilest places.”

“I’m glad he’s here,” Sam said. “Maybe he’ll be able to help you keep up with your habit of crashing into things.”

“I don’t have a habit thank you. My enemies have a habit of yeeting me into things. There’s a difference.”

“You can turn intangible and go through things instead of slamming into them so.” After that fun and lovely argument, Danny almost forgot the weirdness of Dr. Pace.

That is until Lancer introduced the class to a very tall boy with brown hair, tan, freckled skin, and pink eyes. Pink eyes that were glowing ever so softly. “Hello class, this is Kyle Pace. He’s an exchange student from Pittsburg.”

“Hey there,” Kyle said with a wave, smiling wide enough that everyone could see his canines were much longer and too pointy to be human. “My last school was Three Rivers so uh I’m kinda not used to this kinda school, so if I’m weird I’m sorry about that.”

“Not a problem, Kyle.” Lancer patted the large boy on the back. “Your classmates will be doing their best to help you adjust, I’m sure.” No one missed the look Lancer gave them, and no one even really considered caring. Danny, Sam and Tucker were all staring at Kyle with varying degrees of subtly. “There’s a seat between Danny Fenton and Dash Baxter over there, Mr. Pace. I’ll make sure you get a study guide to catch you up on where we are.”

Kyle nodded and plopped down in his seat, bookbag set down next to him, and the class moved on as though this were normal. Well, Wes was fuming at the back of the class but no one paid him any attention. He looked like he was paying attention, and after a while, Danny decided he should do the same, but the glow in Kyle’s eyes and the way Danny’s ghost sense was stuck in his throat, almost alerting him to a ghost but not, messed up his focus even worse than a regular old attack.

When Lunch rolled around, they had a chance to actually talk about it. “So uh, when Dr. Pace said he had a kid,” Tucker said, “Do you think he meant like after he died?”

“My ghost sense says yes, which is gross to think about, but also kind of an existential crisis going on.” Danny pushed his food around on his platter, staring at it and through it. “How the fuck does that even work?”

“Well if Box Lunch,” Sam said with a shudder, “Can exist then maybe… what did he call it? Bridge Spirits? Maybe they can happen, ya know, naturally?”

“This validates everyone who wants to fuck Phantom,” Tucker said with a mouth full of meatloaf from home. Danny punched his arm without looking and took satisfaction in his yelp. “I’m just sayin.”

“Swallow first, and then - novel idea - don’t say it.”

“I saw him leave algebra with Dash and Dash’s hair isn’t looking so perfectly combed right now,” Tucker said anyway, earning a kick in the shins from Sam.

Danny groaned. “Can we talk about something else?”

The universe did not agree with their subject of discussion moving away from Kyle, however, as he strode over to their table and plopped down next to Danny. He had a lunch box filled with clearly homemade food that looked like it was cooked by a chef compared to the lunch meat on Danny’s platter. He tossed an arm around Danny’s shoulders and gave them all a cheerful, “Hey there! How’re you guys doing? I saw your spider backpack and I know appearances aren’t everything but,” he pointed at Sam with a lazy grin, “do you like snakes?”

“Uh, yes?” Sam looked between Danny and Kyle, likely assessing how dangerous he might be. “Just not your kind of snake.”

“Pardon?”

“People who hang out with Dash Baxter tend to be just like him.” Sam folded her arms and scowled, and Tucker rolled his eyes. Kyle just frowned and looked over at the A lister table, making eye contact with Dash for a moment.

“Only impression I got outta Dash was attractive when he’s not talking, what kinda guy is he?” Sam was all too eager to share that and so was Tucker. Danny watched as Kyle’s expression grew darker while staring at Dash, eyes beginning to glow brighter until he turned back to the table and covered Tucker’s mouth. “Aight, an asshole. Got it. Y’all know that’s all like, illegal, right? Someone can record him doing this shit and either call the police or threaten it.”

“I mean, we could but then the other A listers would be out for us,” Danny said.

“I dunno what the A list is supposed to be, but I’m betting it’s something really stupid, and I have ta say: can we talk about snakes now?” Kyle stuffed food in his mouth, and then the conversation about which snakes were cuter, cooler and more dangerous began. Danny zoned out, stretching his senses to confirm the current of ecto energy under Kyle’s skin and wondered how to bring that up.

Before Danny could ask Kyle if he was possessed or just Like That, Dash Baxter’s voice caught his ear. “Hey, Kyle, why’re you hangin out with these losers? You should-” that was as far as Dash got before a pink bubble appeared around him and Kyle turned around to shove the bubble. It rolled along the floor until it bumped into the A lister table and then popped, leaving Dash to fumble into his seat. Then Kyle turned back to the table.

“I really want a pet snake, or like even some fish, but Dad doesn’t trust me and Pop thinks that I should learn to be responsible first before I go asking for a pet. Like, aren’t parents supposed to use pets as a test of responsibility?”

“Some parents think that,” Sam said, her salad finished and her protein shake almost done, “but it’s unfair to put all that on a kid.”

“So,” Tucker said slowly, “everyone is staring at us and I’m kinda wondering if we’re gonna talk about you putting Dash in gay baby jail.”

“Is that weird?” Kyle raised a brow, and Danny snorted. “I just really didn’t wanna talk to him if he’s an asshole like y’all said and the bubble popped pretty quick.” Kyle looked around at the dead silent cafeteria, and his skin began to glow. “Why are people starin?”

“Because you just blew your cover, ghost!” Valerie snarled across the cafeteria, and it exploded into chatter. Kyle flinched at the noise and a bubble appeared around the table that blocked out the noise.

“What the fuck? What’s going on?”

“Uh, dude, they don’t know about half ghosts.”

“But you’re a bridge spirit too!”

“They don’t know that! I’ve got a secret identity to keep!”

“I- wow, ok spider-man. Alright.” Kyle took a breath and dropped his shield, floating up above the crowd of teens. “HEY!” The crowd when slowly quiet as Kyle waved a glowing hand around to get everyone’s attention. “MY DUDES! Thanks. So uh, yeah, I’m not sure what y’all think I am, but I can explain pretty easy.”

“Oh I’m certain you can, ghost, but we’re not interested in your lies!”

“Excuse you, I don’t lie anymore than you do. Anyway, when a living human and a ghost love each other very much-”

“Are you saying your mom or dad banged a ghost?!” Dale was always so eloquent, it had Danny wondering how he had such bad grades.

“Yeah,” Kyle shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I don’t have a Mom though, Dad and Pop just figured out that ghostly physiology is malleable and they wanted a kid. I’m done talking about my conception now, cause that’s gross, but like, this is a basic thing to understand.” Kyle floated back down to his seat and crossed his legs. “I swear I heard at least five girls around here want to start a family with Phantom, and I just gotta wonder: y’all did know that’s possible right?”

Silence eerie as a horror movie washed over the cafeteria. People processed what they’d been told and some of their minds tripped over themselves trying to do so. Kyle turned back to Sam and started complaining about pets while chatter erupted around them all, and Danny slammed his head against the table.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Sam Manson #Jason Pace #Kyle Pace #OCs #fanfiction #phanfiction #fanphiction #phanfic #fanfic #phanphic #fanphic #Rexy Writes

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humanp30ple · 5 years ago

Text

👽 Star Stuff 👽

Basic

Name: Stella-Marie Monroe

Nickname: Tell, Stella Belle, Star Stuff

Age: 17

Gender/Pronouns/presentation: agender, they/them, feminine

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Afro-Arab and Irish

Race: Multiracial

Orientation: Bisexual

Known Languages: English

Occupation: High school student, dreams of being either an astronomer or a physicist.

Physical Description:

They're a shapely individual who stands at 5’4 and weighs 123.5 lbs. They appear to be physically mature for their age with wide, full hips, a busty chest, and rounded, sloping shoulders connected by a slim, well-defined midriff. Their bottom is full and round and most of their weight seems to be situated around their thighs. They have tawny brown with a coppery undertone and that’s covered from head to toe in freckles, chestnut-colored eyes, and warm black, waist-length, corkscrew curls pulled into a high side ponytail with mall bangs. They have deep-set, almond-shaped eyes with full, rounded eyebrows with a low arch.

They have a heart-shaped face, their chin is pointed and their forehead is the widest part of their face. They have a strong jawline that tapers off into a defined chin and high cheekbones. Their nose is relatively small with a flat, round shape. They have a heavy upper lip pronounced cupid's bow. They have a gap between their two front teeth that they aren’t really proud of but refuse to get fixed despite how insecure it makes them. Their ears are smaller than average ears and are slightly pointed with unattached earlobes. They frequently wear makeup; their favorite look is draped blush with either an orange or pink tinted lip gloss.

They have large rectangular palms with fingers equal in length to the palm. Their nails are often painted in bright neon colors. They are right-handed.

They have a medium-sized birthmark located just under the left side of their collar bone that kinda resembles the milky way galaxy if you look at it hard enough.

Their most iconic outfit is a fuzzy, neon pink, over-sized, off the shoulder, leopard print sweater with a bright green alien on it worn over a fluorescent green leotard tucked into baggy, high waisted, acid-washed mom jeans that are rolled up at the ankles to reveal the fishnet stockings underneath worn with white high top Nikes. They are most often seen wearing a wide variety of brightly colored scrunchies. Their favorite and perhaps most iconic scrunchie is a hot pink one with neon green aliens on it.

Likes/Dislikes:

Likes:

Space and space-related things

Science fiction

The 80s and things with a retro aesthetic

Makeup

Animal print

Cursed images

Roller skating

Crunchy foods

Dislikes:

Inauthenticity

Bad science

Being lied to

People who act in bad faith

Being wrong about something and not knowing it

People who spread misinformation

Smooth, pasty food

Being considered ordinary

Favorite colors:

Pinks, greens, and purples, specifically in bright, fluorescent, neon shades; deep blues

Favorite Food(s):

Cheez Balls

Favorite Drink(s):

Coca-Cola

Favorite Song/Theme Song:

Space Age Love Song by A Flock of Seagulls

Movies/TV Shows/Performances:

Cosmos (the Carl Sagan one)

Star Wars Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back

Hidden Figures

Book(s):

The Dune series by Frank Herbert

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking

Favorite Subjects in school:

Physics

Planetary science

Favorite animal(s):

Opossum

Favorite place(s):

The movies

The local roller rink and arcade

The local planetarium

Personality:

Charming, independent, energetic, and compassionate, Stella-Marie Monroe truly is a free spirit.

One of their most endearing qualities is their strong humanitarian impulse and extreme generosity with their time in helping other people. They feel their best when they’re serving others in some capacity. They love people and want to dedicate their life to helping people, whether that be through educating them or advocating for them.

They’re quite talkative and enjoy both small talk and deep, meaningful conversations, which are just two sides of the same coin for them, and are adept at steering conversations towards their desired subjects in ways that feel completely natural and unforced.

People close to them have said that one of the best things about them is that they are direct and to the point. They say what needs to be said, especially when no one else is willing to say it and can generally be relied upon to be the person who won’t hesitate to call out something or someone they don’t think is right. Though they can be quite contentious at times they can also be trusted to be the one who preaches compassion and sensitivity and is concerned with ensuring the well being of others. They’re generally a good judge of character and possess the ability to peek behind the mask that others wear and identify dishonesty and disingenuous motives.

Many people have described their thought process as being unique, eccentric, and perhaps a little unconventional; with ideas coming rapid and often completely out of the blue. Reading fiction, especially science fiction helps give them food for thought regarding radically new ways of looking at things and heavily influences the way they view the world around them. They aren’t content to just accept things as they are and would much rather think about what they could be.

They can become a bit impatient with those who are conservative in their thinking and unimaginative and those who are afraid perhaps to think about and try new things and ideas. Nevertheless, they won’t push anyone outside of their comfort zone if they truly don’t think they’re ready to leave it just yet.

As they observe, forming new connections and ideas, they won’t hold their tongues – they’re excited about their findings and share them with anyone who’ll listen. This infectious enthusiasm has the dual benefit of giving them a chance to make more social connections, and of giving them a new source of information and experience, as they fit their new friends’ opinions into their existing ideas.

Ideas are at the core of their being. They generally prefer to work with the big picture yet still display a healthy appreciation for all the little details. When describing an event, will tell people what it meant instead of what happened and would much rather focus on the “Why?” than the "Who?", "What?", and "When?" When it comes to new ideas, they aren’t interested in brooding – they want to go out and experience things, and don’t hesitate to step out of their comfort zones to do so. Knowledge is important to them and they chase as much of it as possible. They’re always on the search for new information and enjoy passing on the knowledge they've gained.

They firmly believe that there are no irrelevant actions, that every shift in sentiment, every move, and every idea is part of something bigger. To satisfy their curiosity, they try to notice all of these things and to never miss a moment.

Although they’re very open to exploring new ideas, they require some form of scientific proof before anything can be believed and have been known to call out bad science whenever they come across it. Even then, they enjoy entertaining hypotheticals and indulging in the seemingly impossible. They possess a strong imagination and a unique sensitivity to their surroundings. They often receive intuitive hunches and are apt to have vivid dreams. They have a deep appreciation of beautiful things and find beauty in almost everything.

Many have noticed the intensity with which they carry out their activities and pursue their interests. Once they’ve set their mind on a goal, their dedication, determination, and commitment to it are extraordinary. Any attempt to deter them or make them change their course has a 90% guaranteed chance of failing miserably. Whatever they’ve set their sights on, they refuse to give up or let go of it. Some find their enthusiasm to be magnetic, others find it just plain scary.

Keeping things going is their strength, especially once someone else starts them. Their stamina and persistence are simultaneously their greatest strengths and one of their greatest weaknesses; they can get caught in a rut and refuse to seize new opportunities. There are times when they can come across as dogmatic and unyielding. They follow their own convictions regardless of what others think of them and won’t quit until the thing they’re pursuing has reached its logical conclusion.

What they have in regards to pure enthusiasm they lack in terms of concentration. It’s hard for them to maintain interest as tasks drift towards routine, administrative matters, and away from broader concepts.

They also have a habit of overthinking things and have a tendency to doubt their own conclusions. They’ve never been one take things at face value – they look for underlying motives in even the simplest things. It’s not uncommon for them to lose a bit of sleep asking themselves why someone did what they did, what it might mean, and what to do about it.

They are often described as being independent to a fault. They loathe being micromanaged and restrained by heavy-handed rules – they want to be seen as highly independent masters of their own fates, even possessors of an altruistic wisdom that goes beyond draconian law. The problem is: they live in a world of checks and balances, a pill they are not happy to swallow.

Ironically, despite readily advocating for the needs of others, their greatest weakness is that they struggle with advocating for themselves. They often have a difficult time saying no and will sometimes stay in bad situations thinking that they can somehow change the other person and then all will be well. Subconsciously they love to play the martyr or the savior who fixes people and as a result, people will often try to take advantage of them and their willingness to help. They’re a sucker for a sob story, much to their own detriment.

They’re a sentimental and romantic person. At times, they expect too much from others and then feel hurt if the other person doesn't come through for them. They have a strong tendency to place their loved ones on a pedestal, thus setting up the eventual disillusionment that comes when they discover that the object of their admiration has faults, too.

Their worst quality, however, is their refusal to cope with challenging emotions. Negative feelings make them uncomfortable. They have a difficult time dealing with their own or other people's problems and emotional pain. They often try to "cheer up" or offer advice to those who are hurting, but in actuality, they’re trying to avoid or ignore the emotions involved. This refusal to engage with their emotions in a way that’s productive causes their feelings to manifest in ways that cause problems for them, particularly when under stress, criticism or conflict, They frequently experience emotional bursts that are counterproductive at best and debilitating at worse.

#ocs #long post #80s #aliens #aliencore #spacecore #starcore #retro aesthetic #nblw character #nb character

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