#tumblr has a tag limit. i blocked her once she got other friends and dropped me. she didn't notice

[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

4x12 - GSR fix-it fic

(A/N:  What the motherfuck- TUMBLR HAS A TEXT BLOCK LIMIT?!!!! UUUGGGHHH!!!! I guess this is gonna have to be in two parts. But, I guess...this whole thing is pushing 9000 words, so I'll split it 4500-4500. Yeah. I'm as tired as Gil now. I'm gonna go sleep with him. I was inspired to write this after watching that video.  Anyways, they're actually together in this one.  Aka when Gil FINALLY goes home, he can rest his forehead on Sara's and reassure himself that she's actually still okay, and that she's actually still right there, with him.  Because I crave this for them.  So, there are many and heavy contextual changes. Fyi, I'm not writing out every single piece of dialogue/action, hell no.  I'm just writing whatever's relevant to GSR. Oh and, warning - canon-typical ns/fw

{I'm sorry about the formatting but I would like to give} Special thanks to @addictedtostorytelling for...basically saving my ass with all the details of this fic. Thank you for answering my questions, no matter how inane, dumb, unnecessary, or worse. And of course @stokes-theorem got me out of a panic attack; it is much appreciated 🙏)

Gil walked through the house of the 419 of the night, having had to put protective coverings over his shoes so that he did not disturb any evidence he might accidentally step on. He had to keep his back to the wall and walk sideways as well. (The sound of his footsteps were adorable.) As he passed the spare bedroom, he noticed that the victim possessed a collection of butterfly-resembling trinkets, all displayed nicely on her shelf. He made it to the area of event at last, squatting down to take a closer look at the body.

His eyebrows jumped up in shock - the victim had a strong resemblance to Sara. For a few moments longer, he stared at his (secret) girlfriend's image, a dozen thoughts swirling around in his head but never aligning themselves. It was his unfailing sense of duty that allowed him to literally get his head upright and get back to his team, who was waiting outside. But when he opened the door, the very person in his line of sight was Sara; again he stared, this time at her actual self. Inside, there was a dead body, who looked so like her, but here she was, living, breathing and- turning her head to stare right back at him. But the one's gaze held such a different meaning from the other's.

Jim, who was past Sara in Grissom's line of sight, thought that he was the one the team leader wanted to see, so he stepped between the scientists. "Ready for us?"

"For now, no one enters this house except CSI."

[CUE THE INTRO]

Gil assigned Warrick to the car, but he assigned Sara to the perimeter, to which she shook her head in disbelief and questioned, "What? You just did a one hour walk-through. The perimeter cannot be a priority." On 'not', she shrugged and laughed wryly.

His gaze immediately turned beseeching. "I need you to work the outside. Catherine and I will be inside." He momentarily shifted his eyes in the direction of the door at the last bit but immediately looked back at her, his eyes even more pleading. Sara gave him an 'alright, fine' smile and went to do as he said.

Gil did not examine the car, but there was a fair chance that it would yield a fair amount of evidence. However, he had, as Sara remarked, gone over the perimeter, so he knew that Sara's scouring of it would bear no fruit. He deliberately did this; he wanted to dissociate Sara from the case as much as possible, in his own little way.

While Catherine went to interrogate the victim's friend, Gil took the opportunity to go back and stare the body for a bit longer.  He was (understandably) haunted that the 419 looked like the love of his life.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear Catherine walk in behind him; his head flinched to the side when she spoke, "One thing I can never get over with this job: anything can happen to anybody."

Gil clicked his tongue and responded, "That's why we're here," before going back to looking over the corpse.

Soon enough, Sara was let in a little more on the action when she had to crawl under the house and unscrew a pipe running from the bathroom to get the water that had been drained into it, as well as process the actual pipe.  However, Gil insisted that she was to return to the laboratory and test just those pieces of evidences as soon as she was done; his intent was that she would be occupied with something appertaining to the case but not in such a major capacity, thus satisfying her curiosity if only on a temporal basis.  Gil and Sara did not know it, but when she looked up into the pipe, Gil happened to be spraying luminol onto it on the other side.  (A/N:  Can I just take a moment to appreciate the cinematography here?  As well as the music <3)

The bugs helped the bug man out again; flies swarmed the dustbins that had pieces of corpse inside them.

After those were sent back to Al and David, Gil went back inside the house.  This time, he examined the victim's collection of synthetic butterflies.  He was turning over one that was blue, translucent, and had a base so that it could stand, a thoughtful frown on his forehead.  If Sara had been there to see him, she would have kissed it away.  He put the butterfly down and picked up a framed picture of Debbie.  With her arms straight up in the air and an open-mouthed smile that showed her top row of teeth, it was evident that she had been jubilant at the time of photography.  Gil shook his head; not because he pitied the loss of her joy, but because he was once again struck by her likeness to the greatest joy in his own life.  He tore his eyes away from the photo and looked at himself in the mirror, trying to collect himself.

But the adverse was achieved, because the bed was visible in the mirror, and he envisioned the victim sitting on it facing away from him, alive and well.  She then looked over her shoulder at him; the image was replaced with that of Sara.

Grissom clenched his jaw.  He stiffly tilted his head to one side, his gaze at himself hardening.  All in an reinforced effort to steel himself.

He was forcibly yanked out of his thoughts when his phone rang; his head flinched a little way in its direction while his eyes flickered down to it.  He picked it up and manage to announce in his normal voice, "Grissom."

"Hey!"  came the voice of the very woman who plagued him so, her voice cheery; she had dismissed any offence she had felt earlier from her mind and forgiven him, just being happy to hear from her man.

But her voice made him drop his mouth open in shock. Restraining the last of his resolve from flying out the window, he said, "Sara.  Uuuuhhh listen I'm in a bad area, I'll call you back."  He deliberately raised his voice a little to make his lie more believable.

Even though he could not see her, she gave a little nod; physical embodiment of her acknowledgment.  She responded by raising her voice just as he did when he next spoke.  "I got a skin tag off the bathroom drain pipe."

"Skin tag.  That's great.  Uh, give it to Greg."

"Yeah I did.  Hey do you want me to come over there and give you a hand?"

"No I'm-I'm-I'm fine," he stuttered, his free hand moving up then down again, as if he was physically dismissing (his emotions besides) her offer.  "I'll-i'll-i'll- uh...I'll talk to you back at the lab."  He immediately hung up after that.  He raised his head to glare at himself; he needed to force himself to push whatever emotions he had aside so that he could focus on the case.

As for Sara, she frowned in concern, but went on brushing what she put down as his typical eccentricity aside and went to help Warrick out with Michael Clark's car.  A third party would have enjoyed watching them work, especially with John M.  Keane's music.

After that, Sara and Warrick convened with Catherine in the break room to go over the course of the physical events of the murder.  Grissom joined remotely by holding his pager to his ear with one hand, while the break room's table had a speaker that his phone was tapped into; it was certainly much easier to communicate with Sara remotely and in a group where he could avoid speaking directly to her instead of communing in private where he literally had to face her.  Since Grissom was at the house, he walked through it himself in accordance with his team's narration.  When Sara spoke, he had to tilt his phone away from his ear, catching himself tripping again.  Since he was at the scene of the crime, he narrated how the deed was done.  As always, he had been envisioning the actual events, so it was difficult for him to picture such a thing happening Sara's likeness, but he pulled through; he did pause for extremely brief moments, and those could be put down perfectly as him taking time to think.

Sara, Catherine and Warrick finally went home after one and a half shifts.  As Sara approached the door to her and Gil's place, she could hear Hank scratching at it.  She smiled and opened the door. "Hey!" she called at the same time that Hank barked. Hank then stepped behind her and sniffed the air. "He's not here," Sara told him, gently pushing him inside with one hand and holding her kit with the other.  She sat on the couch and directed him to sit next to her.  She took her phone out of her pocket and showed it to him.  "We'll call him, huh?"  Hank had come to understand that that little slab of plastic with an area that would light up was something that humans used to communicate with each other.  There were frequent occasions when one of his humans was away, and the other would hold this object in between him and them.  Then, when the human pressed some things that made beeping sounds, there would be a certain tone for a while until the other human's voice could be heard from it; this was one such occasion.

Sometimes however, the other human's voice would not be heard.  In those cases, he and the human would just bark or speak into the slab by themselves.  After several hours, the slab would start up with a ringing sound, and when the human made a beep, the other human's voice could be heard.  He would always bark joyfully then and wag his tail.

So Hank smiled at Sara, tongue hanging out as he panted eagerly.  He watched and listened as she made the slab beep, and a tone followed.  Not too long after, the tone ended, and was replaced with a, "Grissom." He had had to turn away from the area of wall he was swabbing and take the phone out of his inner breast pocket.

Hank immediately started barking into the object, letting his human know that he was excited to hear from him and missed him.  Both humans giggled.  (At least Hank managed to cheer Gil up for a little bit.)  Sara absentmindedly ran her other hand down his ear as she waited for him to stop barking so that she could have her turn at speaking. The dog was aware of this, and let his mother have her turn in due time. "We miss you," she smiled.

He sounded forlorn as he answered, "I know... I miss you too...but I have to finish this." He was frowning sadly, and his shoulders were slumped. Sara thought that he was sad because he regretted not being able to come home to her. While this was true, he had another reason: that he had to deal with...this. And it was not that he had to deal with it; it was something that he had taken upon himself to. All he wanted was to protect his Sara, even if it meant hiding (fortunately minor) details of the case from her, and foregoing sleep altogether.

"Why not come home? Take a break. And you can continue tomorrow," she tried to coax him.

He shook his head even though she could not see him. "No. You go ahead without me," he said woefully.

She frowned in concern. "We gotta stop doing this." She was referring to the fact that they often stayed up for the whole day to work on cases instead of getting sleep.

"I know, I know," he sighed, his free hand squeezing his temples. "I promise I'll get more sleep after this case, okay?"

There was a period of silence when Sara nodded. "Okay," she said genially.

She heard her boyfriend huff a sigh; he dipped his head defeatedly when he did that. "Look, I-i-i'm sorry," he stuttered for the second phone call from her in a row.

She shook her head, "Don't be. It's alright. I'm guilty of the same thing." As well as she could hear that he was in dire need of sleep, she would not force him to since he did not want to. Plus, there was no way she could get Gil to come home without people questioning as to how she managed to get through to the stubborn workaholic; suspicion would be raised as to the true extent of their relationship.  He was at a loss as to what to say.  So, she rescued him as usual, "I'll see you back at the lab?"

He felt as if there were chains around his body that had just been loosened. Finally, something he could answer honestly! He felt as if he was ripping them off as he answered, "I don't think so. I still have to process the carpet-"

"The carpet?! Gil, that thing runs over every inch of floor!!!" Hank, who had been contently resting his head on Sara's lap, jerked his head up at the sudden interjection.

"I know," he groaned slightly, the vocalisation coming more naturally now that he was free. The boxer lay his head back down. "It has to be done though."

She nodded before saying, "I know. Don't run yourself into the ground, okay? I mean," here he could hear her snicker, "no more than you usually do."

For the first time in over a day, he smiled. A small but genuine smile that made the corners of his storm blue eyes crinkle endearingly; if Sara was there to see it, she would have kissed him. "I'll try not to." And, ah, how nice - she could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Take care of yourself. Remember to eat at least. I love you."

"I'll try. I love you too. I love you Hank!" His head jerked up again and enthusiastic barking ensued. The humans followed suit with more giggling before they hung up. With his spirits lifted anew from his conversation with Sara, he pocketed his phone and got back to work with a little more energy than he had before.

As for Sara, she put a hand on Hank's head and said, "Well boy, let's go and eat some breakfast huh?"  He gave a cheery bark and jumped off the couch.  Sara closed and locked the door, carried her kit and followed him down the stairs.  She hurried to put her kit away and then popped back to the kitchen to set out Hank's food, and then get herself food. They ate, went for a walk, and returned. Sara took a shower, and put on Gil's shirt after. When it came time for bed, Sara asked Hank to lie on the bed with her, and cuddled him. "Since Gil isn't here, I'll hold you tonight," she smiled. He seemed to understand as he nuzzled her face and lay his head back down.

A little after the phone call, Gil did go and eat. He shed himself of his coveralls, put them in his car, got in himself, and drove to the nearest diner. He ate there and then took away a second meal for his lunch, which he ate at the appropriate time. Sara went to the laboratory at nine o' clock that night, wanting to do all she could to help her boyfriend. She went to check on Warrick's progress.  Upon finding him sifting through the contents of the victim's vacuum cleaner with a pair of tweezers and coughing profusely, she teased, "He-he-heyyy. Blacklung."

"Ah...I've been sifting through this trash for about six hours." That meant that he had been working for the entirety of the swing shift. "You come here to rescue me or make fun of me?" the poor man retorted.

"I am just looking, relax." She pointed to one of the petri dishes Warrick had set out to sort the evidence. "What are these white fibres here?"

"They must be from the spare bedroom, because all the other carpets are green."

Sara looked at the plan drawing of the house. "Spare bedroom wasn't on his entrance or exit path."

"Look, all I know is that they were near the top of the bag, so it must've been one of the last things he vacuumed." Sara gave small nods of acknowledgment.

"I did manage to find this butterfly pendant..." Warrick moved his tweezers to the petri dish where it was and picked it up, "...with some white fibres in it. Looks like it's from a necklace, or a bracelet. And it has this link, which has snapped so I'm thinking...sign of struggle?" He straightened up a little bit to raise his point.

"Killer was in that spare bedroom."

Gil's panicky obsessiveness was certainly affecting a fair few of his teammates. Catherine went to the scene of the crime at the same time as Sara returned to the laboratory.  She knew that Gil was very stressed out about the victim looking so much like their dear friend, and so she wanted to help him.

(Poor Gil...he did not realise that when he worried, his team family worried too and would do whatever they could for him; he did not realise that they could love him as much as he loved them.  He had such heavy doubt about his own lovability, so much so that he even almost rejected Sara when she first asked him out.)

Catherine walked in to see Gil processing the carpet (to the amazing soundtrack). During the conference, he had mentioned that he had processed the carpet on the threshold of the bathroom, and at present he was processing the area of carpet just beyond that.  Her work-wife face on, she said to him, "Don't tell me you never went home."

Gil looked up at her, one hand still on the carpet and the other holding his filter paper. "Okay." Since she did not want to hear anything to that effect, he decided to water it down by saying, "I just got started in here.  I haven't even got into any of the rooms yet."

"You know you lose your edge after sixteen hours, and you're into your third shift. She brought her forearms out to her sides. "I mean I'm all for overtime but, this is just plain greedy."

He shook his head tiredly before reassuring her, "My knees can't take this anymore." As fuelled as he was from his food, it still physically hurt to remain on one's knees for an extended period of time.

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Yes."

"Ah," she nodded approvingly.  "Then, how about a shower?"  Gil shook his head.  Catherine raised an eyebrow in turn.  At Gil's look of horror, she clarified, "I mean at your place.  You need to go home."

"As soon as we find some evidence, I promise."

"With fresh eyes you won't miss it."

Her work-husband groaned as he stood up, his knees creaking.  "Just talk it through with me will ya?  What do we know?"

Catherine's eyes shifted to the side in thought.  "Alright."  She inhaled deeply before continuing, "The bathroom is where things got started. Candles, oils...steam shower...cleaned up, oiled up...sexed up."

"Let's go back to the bedroom," Gil voiced, moving his head a little way in the direction of the bedroom. They got their UV-protective goggles out of their kits, with Catherine taking the torchlight as well.  Cath shone the light on the topmost bedsheet, but nothing showed up under the fluorescence. "No, nothing on this sheet," Gil noted. He lifted that sheet to expose the one underneath, to yield the same result; he gently cocked his head to one side in acknowledgement (which was cute).

"She changed her sheets for her date; I would," Catherine remarked.

Since there was nothing to be found on the top surface of the bed, Gil let his gaze wander to the side of the bed. A ring embedded into the mattress caught his eye with a loop red cloth threaded through it with the rest stuffed under the mattress caught his eye; this time his head jerked a little to the side in vigilance. He squatted down and pulled it out, passing hand over hand.  When it was completely free and he could see what it was, he transferred it to one hand so that he could take off his goggles with the other.  He then looked up at his colleague with an uncomfortable expression and called, "Hey Cath..." When she looked at him, he held the thing up as if he was holding a dead rat and continued, "...got silk?"  His eyes shifted to the object as he asked that.  What he meant by that was if there was an identical finding on her side.

She looked down at her side of the mattress, and opened her mouth at the discovery and looked back at him.  Gil kept an inquiring gaze on her and took the opportunity to stand up.  She bent to her side while reaching an arm down and fished the cloth out.  "Why yes I do."  Gil looked back at the one in his own hand and shook it to see if anything would fall out; he was still disconcerted and frowning though.  His unease was turned into scepticism when Catherine said, "Iiii don't mean to embarrass you but um...some guys need leverage," as she stepped towards the foot of the bed and removed the sheets to uncover the barrier.

"They do?"  He was frowning a little bit harder; Sara certainly never complained.

Grinning in the hopes of finding something, Catherine gave a nod before saying, "I'll dust for prints."

While she did that, Gil's phone rang again.  He took his phone out from the same place he had when Sara called.  "Grissom."  He stuffed the hand not holding his phone comfortably into his pocket.

"It's Warrick.  I have somethin' for you - I found a butterfly link.  With some white fibres in it."

Grissom started walking to the other bedroom.  "Butterfly where?"

"In the vacuum bag.  You check all the rooms?"

"Lemme look again, and I'll get back to you."

"Alright." Grissom had reached the spare bedroom by then, so he put his phone away and got up to the shelf where the victim's butterfly collection was, a smile gracing his face at the sight of insects. He shone his (regular) torchlight on the contents of the shelf. When came across some more photos of Debbie, he drew himself back slightly, but quickly tore his gaze away from them; this was not the time to dwell on his feelings. His gaze averted to a blue jewellery box next to them, decorated with even more images of butterflies. He opened it; inside, there was an assortment of accessories, all butterfly-themed. He carefully used a finger to move them about, pushing them aside to see if there were any broken-off pieces. He did find one near the top right of the box.

In the meantime, Catherine had successfully made a print show up.  She tape-lifted it with a triumphant smile and proudly brought it to show Grissom.  "Hang one.  Toe print.  I'll have Sara compare it against both victims."

"Good."  Sara was the only unoccupied person.  "Warrick found a butterfly charm in the vacuum bag...I think I just found a piece from the same chain in this box."  He pointed to it.

"Butterfly huh?"  Catherine mused, her eyes moving to look over the rest of the trinkets.

"She had a collection." He seemed quite happy to announce that, and it was no wonder why.

"Gifts?  From her...gentleman callers?"

"Maybe the killer was taking his gift back.  As in, leave no trace.  Maybe he finally ran out of patience and got sloppy."  At the last sentence, his voice deepened, as if he was challenging the unseen and unknown perpetrator.  Upon shining his torch on the shelf below, he found a strand of hair.  Short and white, as would come from an elderly man.  He squatted, with Catherine following suit, and picked it up with his tweezers.  "And this is why I didn't leave."  His voice was soft with excitement and victory. Catherine left to bring the hair and toe print back to the laboratory, giving the print to Sara and the hair to Greg. Gil got back to Warrick and informed him of the matching butterfly.

Sara went to take the lower ten cards of both victims. Having finally gotten the chance to look at Debbie, she moved the swivel chair she was sitting on to draw herself up beside the victim's face. She stared down at it.  And suddenly, she understood.  She understood Gil's skittishness, understood why he had been reluctant to let her in on the case.  And she was, of course, haunted; it could very well have been her on Al's slab.  She glanced about, not knowing what to think; she could not articulate her emotions even in her own head. Eventually, they settled on one person: Gil. Gil, her protector; the person who had been 'protecting' her from this case at any rate.  She would speak to him to clear her head; she could always talk to him, and he would never turn her away. Well...he used to. But that was when his feelings towards her were even more of a mess than they currently were. He had progressed a lot with her help.

With that temporary comfort, she finished up and went to run the prints through AFIS. That took several hours. By the time that day shift roller around, both Debbie Marlin and Michael Clark were ruled out.  She then went to find Gil.  Or Catherine; whichever she found first. She went to the shift supervisor's office; nobody was there. And nobody was in the assistant shift supervisor's office either. But after some wandering around, she found Catherine in the locker room, sitting on a bench and changing her shoes. "Hey," Sara called, trying to seem cheery, "you seen Grissom?"

"He's still at the crime scene," Catherine responded, glancing at her as she did.

Sara nodded to signify her acknowledgment before reporting, "I eliminated both victims from the print you pulled off the bed."

"Well we know she was fishing off the company pier..." Sara responded with a look and a nod. "You uh, seen Debbie?" Catherine looked at her properly, wanting to gauge her reaction.

"Yeah," she said laconically, not wanting to give anything away.

"And?" Catherine enquired.

"Yeah I compared her...toe prints," she avoided still, her expression hardening.

Seeing as that would lead nowhere, Catherine decided to comment, "If I didn't know better I'd think that it was you on that table."

"I didn't really...look at her face," Sara denied. Noticing Sara seemed sad somehow, Catherine relented and just gave her a knowing look. Sara let her face fall, and allowed herself to sound as pleading as she really was when she asked, "If you see Grissom will you tell him?" Catherine nodded sincerely. Sara just walked off after that. The assistant shift supervisor convened with Jim and they went to Desert Palm print samples.  They did find a match; Dr.  Tripton.  Catherine phoned Gil and informed him of it.

[hi-5-sunflower]

Saeed's intro

I did a post recently of the book's first chapter, which is Laura's introduction. However, since our other main protagonist, Saeed, doesn't come in until chapter seven, I'm jumping ahead to his intro to let the people of writeblr get to know this alchemist buddy a little bit 🙂

Length: 1,300 words

Summary: Saeed works on a potion to compete with his best friend for a permanent job as an alchemist.

Content warnings: Mention of illness. None others that I'm aware of (but please let me know if you think any need to be added!)

Saeed Azhari hardly saw where he was going as he made his way upstairs to the alchemy lab, his mind working like a colony of ants.

Stripewood bark has some anti-inflammatory properties, he thought, running a hand through his shaggy, overgrown hair. Might be a good addition to the sunleaf mixture.

The tiny lab was quiet when he arrived, and he took his preferred spot in the rear corner, close to the supply cupboard. He flipped open his pack to retrieve a stack of scribbled notes from inside before letting it drop at the foot of his stool.

A gray tabby cat leapt onto the long table to greet him, staring at him with huge green eyes.

“Hi, Quicksilver,” said Saeed.

He stroked the top of her head, and she responded with a purr, spinning around leisurely. Then he spent a few minutes absently gathering supplies for the day, considering the herb ratios for his potion. As he returned to his seat, the door swung open.

Tavi’s face was lit up in a broad grin as she strolled in. “Morning, Sai.”

“Hey. You’re in a good mood today.”

“Of course I am,” she said. “You do know what today is, don’t you?”

Saeed considered it, half panicking for a second that he’d forgotten her birthday. But no, that had been a few months ago. “Uh...sweetbread day in the dining hall?”

“No, silly.” She flopped her bag down onto her end of the table. “Today marks exactly one month until Emberhawk officially hires me.”

“Oh yeah,” said Saeed, his own lips quirking up. “Except I think you meant to say, until Emberhawk gives you the boot.”

“Ha!” Tavi casually tossed her burgundy braid back over her shoulder. “Honestly, you might want to spend today packing your bags. This thing is as good as done.”

“We’ll see about that.”

She was right about one thing anyway: the end of their year-long apprenticeship with Emberhawk Alchemy was rapidly approaching. At its end awaited a permanent, well-paying alchemist position with the company—but only one. Both of them had impressive achievements under their belts. The remaining question was which of them would come out on top.

Saeed pored over his notes for a few minutes as Tavi got settled. He’d been thinking about his current project—a cough remedy—nonstop, and he had some new ideas to try out.

Maybe a little more sunleaf this time. He shredded the herb by hand, staining his tawny fingers a yellowish green, and piled the foliage into his alembic. Fragrant vapors issued from the device as the mix simmered.

Most days, he and Tavi worked as lab assistants, running errands for the alchemy team, taking inventory, and performing repetitious production tasks. Today, however, was what they called a “free day”—a day off from their scheduled assignments, usually granted once or twice a week, in which they got to utilize this cramped little lab to conduct their own projects.

Simply put, these were the days that really counted. Here was the space in which they could prove their personal worth in potioncraft.

“How’s it going with the endurance tonic?” Saeed asked, his cheek resting on his palm while he waited for his concoction to distill.

“Could be better, actually,” said Tavi. “I had to scrap the recipe I was working on. We’re all out of lion blossom.” She rolled her eyes.

Saeed sympathized with that. Their limited access to materials was the one big stumbling block of the apprenticeship. Particularly with more expensive ingredients, they were allotted minimal amounts to work with, if any, so they had to ration carefully.

In fact, that was the primary challenge of his cough remedy project. Lyusk root was well-known to be highly effective for respiratory ailments—particularly this new, stubborn one, to which Saeed’s own brother had recently fallen victim—but there was never any of the root in their supply cupboard.

He’d just have to find an alternative.

And he would. One way or another.

Tavi stripped the husks off some chiba stalks, leaving green stains on her long fingers to match the ones on Saeed’s shorter human ones. As a member of the Jirian race, Tavi had a physique naturally built for arboreal life: remarkably long fingers and toes, effective for branch-gripping, and a prehensile simian tail. Their skin came in an array of grays, and Tavi’s complexion was a pale shade reminiscent of a dawn sky. Her burgundy hair was bound, like most days, into a single plait hanging down her back.

Saeed returned his attention to his notes for another quick review, then stood up and made for the supply cupboard again.

The shelves of the narrow closet were lined with jars and sacks of herbs, minerals, and brightly colored concentrates. Just standing in here, breathing in the cacophony of herbal scents, sent a thrill through his veins. Despite their complaints about the limits upon them, they still had a good variety of ingredients to experiment with.

Now, to find that stripewood. The S’s were on the lower shelves, which was convenient, as Saeed was rather short. There you are. He plucked a jar off the shelf. Curls of shredded brown bark filled it halfway, and Saeed unscrewed the lid, gingerly extracting a few pieces.

He closed his palm around them, focusing. In this dead and dried form, there was only a trace of its original life energy left within it, but it was there, and he could feel it if he really concentrated. He let his mind go quiet, let the little shavings tell him what their purpose was.

Its essence, once brought out, would provide a mild soothing effect, but without numbing. Just what I need. He sent a wave of gratitude to the bark before heading back to the table to put it to use.

In his peripheral vision, Tavi was scribbling away, making that face she always did when she was deep in her tasks, with her eyebrows furrowed and the end of her tongue sticking out. He set to work, smiling to himself.

Starting with their first alchemy lesson when they were just eleven years old, the two of them had shared a fascination for potion making, matched only by their drive to outdo one another every step of the way. They had something of a code between them: no cheating, no sabotage, and no being a sore loser. Even as teens, they’d adhered to that code strictly.

Most of the time, anyway.

Saeed used a mortar and pestle to grind the stripewood bark into a coarse powder before stirring it into the sunleaf mixture. Then he shuffled through his notes again, resenting the fact that he could barely read his own handwriting.

“Sai,” said Tavi, nodding toward his equipment, “let me borrow that quarterspoon really quick.”

He slid the little measuring scoop down the table to her.

“Thanks.”

They spoke little over the course of the next few hours, and Tavi wrapped up her day by transferring her potion-in-progress into a brass storage urn. Saeed did the same with his own product. Soon he’d need to find time to run safety testing on the potion, but he felt good about what he’d come up with today. He hummed a little tune as he set to putting away supplies.

“I see that cocky look on your face,” said Tavi, smirking as she came up beside him.

Saeed shot her a look of feigned indignance. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you.” Tavi gave him a playful shove. “Don’t you worry, I’ve still got some good ideas to try out.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Saeed. They walked back to the table together, and as Saeed prepared to pack up, he noticed a few greenish potion droplets on his notes. The ink smudged as he tried to wipe it dry.

We’ll see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! And as usual, here's the tumblr link to the book's full intro for anybody new to the story!

You can also buy a copy for 99 cents (USD)!

Tag list: @thelaughingstag @a-completely-normal-writer

[daisy--sorbet]

heyyy, hope you’re having a good night!! if you have the energy and feel okay answering, what’s up w taz graduation? i haven’t checked it out yet but i was thinking ab it. just asking bc you’re the first person i saw talk ab the show having serious issues, but also feel free to not answer this!! hope you have a good week!

i took a nice hot bath, had a strawberry kiwi capri-sun, and did a nice face mask and i’m feeling pretty good - so, y’know what anon? let’s talk about it. 

for anyone who likes taz grad who sees this post: it’ll be tagged with “taz grad hate” (although i feel hate is definitely a very strong word - it’s for the simplicity of tagging it) - so please block the tag if you don’t want to see this post (especially because i put a readmore on a post before and it didn’t show up on mobile and instead gave the full post). mobile tumblr has a tag blocking system, so please feel free to use it! i don’t mind haha

anyway, so this is... probably going to be a lost post, and i wanna go ahead and preface it: this absolutely isn’t any hate on the mcelroys themselves. i love the brothers and their dad a lot, and while i doubt any of them would ever see this (or have it sent to them, or shown to them, because im pretty sure they try to distance themselves from this sort of thing), i just want to make it clear that criticizing a product is different than bashing a person. which brings me to the point of if i do end up sounding as if im bashing someone - please call me out on it! it’s not my intention to target anyone.

with that said, let’s talk about this campaign.

so my problems are as thus: the railroading, the shipping (a fandom problem, but it’s present in the podcast), the NPCs, and some misc problems others have addressed better than i have.

which. i know. that’s basically the entire podcast. (i promise i’ll bring up some positive points to balance it all out). keep in mind i’ve only personally listened to... what, six episodes? and it was enough for me to drop it. some people dropped it first ep, some dropped it ep four, and others are still forcing themselves to listen.

the railroading

there was a time i could handle travis and his railroading [making sure the story goes exactly the way he has planned], because it was the very beginning of the podcast and that’s what you can kind of expect from a plot-heavy podcast. hell, i wouldn’t mind it if the interactions and goofs weren’t a huge part of why i listen to TAZ in particular (which, by the way, is why amnesty still stuck out to me - even if there was a direction griffin wanted to push them towards, the interactions between the players (or players and npcs) made up for any railroading). it’s kind of hard to not railroad a little when it’s story-heavy and you’re trying to built up a world that you’ve put a lot of thought into. however, a huge part of d&d is the spontaneity. 

it’s kind of why i think balance was so popular. while there was railroading towards the end, there was the presence of improv that made it all good. most mcelroy content is enjoyed because of the goofs. the magic brian moment is memorable. the jenkin’s fight still stands out because it was funny (albeit a result of some bad rolls). the boys teasing angus sticks out because the four would play well off of each other. even without that - griffin had talked about how he had to roll with things (the fact he had planned for a fight atop the train, but ditched the idea for what his family members came up with instead). even in amnesty, a couple moments that stick out to me still are ned with the jetpack taking out a pizza hut sign, and the scene with the water where jake was trapped inside. they aren’t as fun, but they still stand out as “things i didnt expect to really end the way they did.”

with grad, it’s just. one after another. the thundermen want to subpoena a xorn? cool, let’s run with that until actually the xorn gets fed rocks and goes home and who cares about the subpoena now. fitzroy wants to keep his cloak? lets talk about it for a while and you also get no rolls to even try to keep it. fitzroy goes to meet higglemas in his office? oh, why are you here fitzroy? im going to keep asking you until you answer fitzroy? you arent getting out of this scene until you answer me, fitzroy, so just tell me why you’re here already, alright, fitzroy? 

and even later in a episode i read a transcript of: hey argo, remember how you have this whole secret motivation? fuck you, im gonna talk about it here in your dream and reveal it to listeners and remove any tension you had building up, and you dont get a choice to talk about it because this all-knowing villain knows all about it :)

and even NOW in the latest episode, there’s a comment that “we should cap argo’s skills here” instead of just... making the checks higher. rogues are good at certain things and usually arent the best in battles. better hope argo never makes it to level 11, because who knows how people are gonna handle the fact that he gets a skill that’ll make it so certain skills can’t have a roll below 10 (reliable talent). 

(griffin, thankfully, calls travis out for that, but still - travis, why would you even imply that, considering you should be aware of how rogues work considering magnus multiclassed into rogue and you played one on tiny heist?)

and in the newest episode, their Big Bad chaos (which, god, i personally hate that name) straight-out says “dont do this” to the thundermen. travis tries to say, on twitter, “a character saying “dont do this” is different than me saying it” but i need to point out that it’s one thing if you’ve said “no” in character but worked with the PCs doing otherwise, but the railroading says differently.

the shipping

ill try to make this quick, because it’s nothing to do with the fandom (ship however you want, man) - but i really feel the need to draw attention to this.

fitzroy, as confirmed by griffin in a ttazz episode, is asexual. not aroace, but ace nonetheless. and i find it... troublesome that the idea of rainer and fitzroy having a relationship is still pushed nonetheless, despite the fact that fitzroy (to my knowledge) was never once shown to reciprocate any feelings. not to be that person, but i really hope that grad doesnt have any sort of romantic relationships in it (at least - not between NPCs and PCs unless they’re actually like... warranted?). 

i dont know, man. one of my closest friends is ace, and i know she wants a relationship, but i think it would reassure her a lot to see an ace character who isn’t pushed into one in case she ever changes her mind. someone once mentioned that they hope fi/tz/ra/in doesnt happen because theres relationships that have that “oh, you can just date” and it goes upwards there to “oh, you can have sex just to please them <3″  (which, to be honest, is kind of a gross mindset - if someone isnt interested, they arent interested).

also, uh, the TTAZZ where griffin states this, there’s kind of the mention tht the whole sexuality question was posed in relation to the episode “creative thinking” (the dream one i mentioned earlier) - which. uh. i don’t know if anyone caught this, but... rainer straight-up wrote fitzroy a letter in the dream like “are you going to accept my proposal? a girl doesn’t like to be left waiting” which. leaves me with some gross feelings because uh.

if... if the whole thing about fitzroys sexual orientation was addressed here, then why would you push your ship anyway? feels kinda iffy, man.

to which i want to say: fitzroy can date. he’s allowed to date. griffins allowed to do whatever he wants with his character. but when a lot of the flirting is met with nothing, i’m not gonna see the chemistry there. just because travis ships it doesn’t mean it’s canon.

the npcs

ah yes. lets talk about the npcs.

there’s... a lot. a lot a lot. i think travis trimmed down how many were present in a scene, but uh. there’s still a lot. and... uh... i kinda wish there wasn’t?

look, i know im going back to balance/amnesty, but just. hang in there for a moment. chill with me. vibe. 

balance didnt have too many NPCs present at all times in each mini-arc. gerblins had some big names like barry, klarg, gundren, killian, yeemick, and magic brian. rockport limited had angus, jess, graham the juicy wizard jenkins, and all of the tom bodetts mentioned. 

amnestys first arc had mama, barclay, jake, dani, pigeon, kirby, minerva, and that was about it for like. big names? and not all of them were present in each scene. 

in the first episode of grad alone: gary, hernandez, jimson, rolandus, zana, rhodes, buckminster eden, rainer, leon, tomas, hieronymous, higglemas, stuart, jackle, bartholomeus, mulligan, groundsy, germaine/victoria/rattles (the skeleton crew). and those are the ones i wrote down (minus groundsy, who i just. ignores. idk him).

like holy shit, my english prof got onto me for having too many characters in my first chapter and i didnt even have half the amount listed there! 

it’s just a huge cast. does this take place in a school? yes! theres bound to be a lot of students present - but you don’t have to name every single one of them, at least not in the first episode!

the miscellaneous

i don’t know if travis ever actually addressed it, but wheelchair users have actually like... said that rainer’s introduction bothered them, because she was like “please ask me abt my wheelchair :)” when travis saying she was in an ornate chair would have sufficed. 

uh. the colonization vibes people have discussed within the centaur arc. mentioned here, the replies here, and this post (and its replies) here as well.

the overall lack of d&d when the campaign was kind of advertised as a return to d&d if i remember correctly

also no one seems to be taking literally any criticism at all which like. ignoring the petty shit, sure, but people have stopped donating to taz and their listener-ship must have dropped some during this entire time - you’d think that maybe someone could say “we need to find out why people dont like the thing and fix the thing” consider this is. yknow. their livelihood.

anyway uhhh 

tl;dr: travis railroads way too much (even now), the shipping in-game has become pushy and gross (especially bc its shoving a relationship onto an asexual character), theres too many npcs that dont stand out well enough, and no ones taking any criticism about the major issues with grad. 

[darks-ink]

Absurdism Chapter 11

Danny antagonizes Vlad, Valerie shows everyone why she is Amity’s best ghost hunter, and then promptly as A Regret.

Rating: Teen/K+ (a lil swearing, because teenagers, man) Warnings: - Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Sibling Bonding, Family Bonding, Alternate Universe - Halfa Jazz AU, Jazz makes friends

[AO3] [FFN] [more Absurdism on Tumblr] First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

---

“Have you seen?” Jazz asked the moment she joined Phantom in their clearing.

“What, the bounty?” He shrugged, far too casual for her comfort. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? It’s a million dollar bounty! The world’s best known ghost hunters are all coming to Amity, just to hunt you down! How can you not worry about that?!”

Phantom blew out a breath. “Chill, Jazz. They’re the world’s best known ghost hunters, not the best. They’re a bunch of phonies who couldn’t catch a ghost if it waved at them.”

��But—” Nerves curdled in her stomach. Why was he so dismissive?

“It’s nothing,” Phantom said, more comfortingly, like he’d finally caught onto her concern. “Really, Jazz, it’s fine. I got away from all of them when I was your age, and I could do it again now. Not that I would have to, because the bounty isn’t real.”

She blinked at him. “It’s not?”

“Nah. Or, well, in my universe it wasn’t, so I bet it’s not in this one either. Vlad set it up to lure me—you—us away from the Fenton Portal so he can steal it. And I guess I make a better target than you.” He shrugged.

“He’s probably still trying to get you out of the way,” Jazz pointed out, crossing her arms. “Since you ‘stole’ his mentorship position, and all that.”

Phantom made a face. “Ugh, yeah, probably. Really, though, I’ll be fine.”

Jazz shuffled her feet uncertainly, watching her glow flicker slightly. A reflection of her emotions, she now knew. “Are you sure? I mean, it just takes one slip-up…”

“I’m sure, Jazz.” He smiled at her. “I mean, really, the only reason why I got caught in my own universe was because I felt bad for Dad and let him catch me. And you obviously haven’t hurt his feelings like I did, so…”

She snorted, startled. “Oh my god, you let him catch you? How did you even survive your first year as a half-ghost?”

“Well, some might argue I didn’t.” Phantom winked, his grin growing more wide. “But for real, he found out that the bounty was a trap, and the ghost who put it out was going to target our family. Or, well. Jack’s family. I offered to free him from the trap if he freed me from the Fenton Weasel, and that’s pretty much how it went.” He shrugged at the end of it, like it wasn’t a big deal that their ghost-hating father caught and then released a ghost of their caliber.

“How can you act like that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, Dad caught you and then let you go?”

“His family comes before ghosts,” Phantom pointed out, humor leaching out of his voice. “Always.”

The mood was clearly broken. Silence fell, strained and uncomfortable.

Jazz cleared her throat uncertainly. “Right, so, uh. What are we working on today?”

---

Now, Danny usually doesn’t go out looking for fights—not counting his patrols—but he figured he would make an exception this one time. Vlad was still in Amity somewhere, lurking.

Besides, he fought the elder half-ghost in his own universe. If he didn’t come to Vlad, the man would surely seek him out. Better to catch him off-guard and engage on his own terms, right?

Finding the older ghost was easy enough. Even though half-ghosts were harder to detect—thanks, ghost sense—Vlad wasn’t alone; he’d brought the three vulture ghosts along. And those? Those were easy to track down, as long as you were looking for them.

Danny glanced downwards, quickly making sure that they were high enough up that no one could overhear. Assured of this, he flew up to Vlad’s level, even though the other half-ghost hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Hey, Plasmius!” he yelled, drawing even with the four ghosts. “What the fuck are you doing in Amity?”

Vlad whirled around, his red eyes briefly blown wide open—startled. Danny had actually startled him.

The expression was quickly wiped away in favor for Vlad’s usual smooth blankness, of course, but Danny was counting it as a win anyway.

“Phantom, I presume?” Vlad hummed, as the vultures spread out behind him. An attempt at intimidation, or were they getting out of the way for a possible fight?

“Oh please, like you don’t know exactly who I am.” He rolled his eyes at Vlad. “Seriously, man, you’re not welcome here. Haven’t you caused enough trouble yet?”

“Me?” Vlad pressed a dainty hand against his chest, eyes wide and blinking innocently. “Why, Phantom, what are you accusing me off? I haven’t done a thing.”

Danny shot Vlad the flattest, most disbelieving look he could manage. “Uh huh. Sure, old man. Nothing about this bounty is sketchy at all, and it certainly has nothing to do with you. Now, for the last time. Leave this town, or I’ll make you.”

The vultures behind Vlad squawked, a dead giveaway that it was Vlad’s fault. Not that Danny had any doubt about that, but it was always nice to have proof.

He grinned at Vlad, knowing the other half-ghost hated that cocky smirk. “So, now that we’ve established that… Leave, Vlad. I’m not above fighting you.”

“What, all on your own?” Vlad quirked an eyebrow at Danny. “I didn’t know you fought without your dear… sister.” The last word, he said carefully, measured.

Danny snorted. “I’ve fought more without her than with her. But don’t you worry, I’ve got more than enough power to deal with you.”

“Big words for a ghost who hasn’t even met me before,” Vlad scoffed, flaring out his cape in a (weak) attempt at intimidation. His fists flared up with pink ectoplasm. “But if it is a fight you want so dearly, I suppose I give you that much.”

“I would prefer if you just left,” Danny bit back, firing off two quick but low-powered ecto-blasts towards Vlad, “but I’ll settle for kicking your ass.”

Vlad summoned a minimal shield, small and glass-like, reflecting the blasts. “Oh please. Bold words for a little ghost that can barely form an ecto-blast. It’s a miracle that Specter would even consider you a mentor, when you have so little to offer her.”

“You’re just jealous that she didn’t want you,” Danny countered, smirking at Vlad. His core thrummed eagerly, flooding him with energy. It had been far too long since he’d been in a serious ghost fight. “But don’t be jealous, Vladdie, because she wouldn’t have accepted your offer even if I hadn’t been around!”

He underlined the statement with another ecto-blast, bigger and more powerful than the previous two. Vlad swore, ducking underneath it—barely.

Vlad shot back a blast of pink ectoplasm in retaliation. “Don’t call me that!”

The blow petered out against a hastily formed shield, and Danny blinked innocently. “Call you what, Vladdie? Don’t you like it when people use your name?”

Vlad snarled, the ectoplasm whirling together into pink flames. “Who do you think you are, you little pest!”

Danny opened his mouth to snark back, but Vlad lunged at him and he discarded the attempt in favor of protecting himself. He dodged the first swipe, used a shield to block the second, and then blasted Vlad in the side to push him away.

“Why do you even care about Specter?” Vlad asked, once he’d recovered from the unexpected counterattack. “You say she’s your sister, but you can’t be. It must be something else.”

Oh, Vlad. For an expert of all things half-ghost, he could be incredibly oblivious. “Why can’t I be, hm? Is there some sort of limit on half-ghosts, or do you just feel threatened by the possibility that someone could’ve managed without your help and expertise?”

He could see Vlad’s brain grind to a halt at that. The man froze in mid-air, the ectoplasmic flames around his fist dying off.

“You… You can’t be,” Vlad mumbled. His voice was quiet, like he was just thinking out loud. Danny would feel bad about listening in but, hey, Vlad has done far worse. “It makes sense, but— surely I would’ve noticed? He acts like he knows me, and he’s close to Jasmine, but— no. Surely not?”

“You’re rambling, man,” Danny interrupted, leaning his chin on his hand and rattling the fingers against his cheek. “You wanna leave to have your crisis somewhere else, or are we still gonna fight?”

Vlad whirled around to him, his aura flaring brighter. “Would you shut your mouth, Daniel?!”

Immediately, Vlad snapped his mouth shut, but it was too late. His cheeks colored—an inhuman teal—and Danny realized that Vlad hadn’t even meant to say his actual name.

“You know, I usually ask people to call me Phantom or Danny, but I’ll give you a pass for this once.” Danny lounged backwards, his spine clicking as he stretched. “Seriously, though. Are you gonna leave, or what?”

A pink ecto-blast whizzed by him, and Danny raised an eyebrow. “Well, alright then. If that’s how you want to play this.”

The next blast, he intercepted with a shield. It lasted through several more shots from Vlad, before Danny suddenly dropped it, following it with an ecto-blast of his own. It caught Vlad right in the arm, breaking up the steady rhythm of firing.

In the newly made gap, Danny darted closer, angling low and bypassing Vlad entirely. Electricity crackled over his arms, and he discharged it right against Vlad’s unprotected back.

The older half-ghost was blown forward, tumbling heels over head, but he managed to straighten himself quickly. He snarled, baring his fangs, flames licking over his arms.

Danny rolled his eyes, looking as unimpressed as he felt. “You’re not that scary, man.”

He waited until Vlad opened his mouth to snark back. When he did, Danny launched a pointed icicle, swiftly followed by several more.

Vlad swore, throwing his ectoplasmic fire in front of him. Once the flames had faded, Danny could see that Vlad had gotten soaked, but he seemed unharmed.

“You’ve been underplaying your skill,” the other half-ghost commented, his voice strained. “You didn’t need Specter’s help for any of those fights of yours, did you? But why else would he train her…"

“Yo, fruitloop, I’m right here!” Danny shot another ecto-blast, but it was halfhearted, and Vlad easily shielded it. “And I think you know the answer to that last question already, don’t you?”

“It can’t be!” Vlad snapped back, aura flickering wildly. “You’re obviously experienced, and I can’t have missed— missed another for so long!”

Danny scoffed dismissively. “Clearly you can. Seriously, man, it’s been years. You’ve missed your shot by miles, and Jazz will never take you, because she knows she’ll always have her actual family. Give up, Vlad. Or learn to do better, and maybe I’ll let you help.”

Vlad snarled, vicious and animalistic. “I don’t need your pity, boy, nor your advice! I’ll get what I want sooner or later, and you’d be wise to join me before you pick the losing side.”

“I’m already with the winning side, Vlad.” Danny crossed his arms, staring Vlad down impassively. “You’re free to join us if you clean up your game, you know? But nobody wants this, Vlad. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can find happiness yourself.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vlad sneered, eyes narrowed into bright red slits. “You’re, what, sixteen? You have barely an ounce of the life experience I have. But, nevertheless, I am done here.”

Vlad caught the edge of his cape, bowing deeply. “Goodbye, Daniel. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

And, with that, he swept the cape over himself, disappearing in a swirl of pink smoke.

Danny cast out his ghost sense, confirming that Vlad had actually left. Him, and those vultures too. Uh, whoops. He’d gotten so caught up with Vlad that he forgot about the minions.

Well, they couldn’t have gotten that far. He would just have to keep an eye out during patrol.

Actually… maybe he could take Jazz out with him. That would assure her that the bounty wasn’t dangerous to him, right?

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

---

“Wanna join me on patrol?” Phantom asked, completely out of the blue. Jazz jerked her head towards him, frowned.

“Why?”

He shrugged vaguely. “You’re worried about the ghost hunters, yeah? If you come along on patrol, you can see first-hand that they’re no danger to me. Besides, they won’t go after you—they’re only interested in the bounty.”

“Well…” She made a face. He was right, she supposed, but still… “Are they really only going to chase you, though? That seems…”

“Sketchy? Kinda shitty? Just overall a really awful thing to do? Yeah.” He shrugged, lounging in mid-air. “There’s a reason why they held off on coming here until now. They don’t care about the actual ghost hunting, they care about the money.”

“That… sucks.”

Phantom shrugged again. “It also means that they have very little experience dealing with actual ghosts, so. Not very threatening. Want to join me for patrol?”

“I guess. Are you that worried about ghosts?” She frowned at him. “I mean, won’t the ghost hunter’s presence scare off other ghosts?”

“It’s possible,” Phantom admitted, easily. “But Vlad tends to drag his vulture minions along with him, and he’s not above having those guys cause trouble just to lure us out. So I’m gonna go on patrol and find them, make sure they can’t cause a ruckus later.”

“Isn’t that exactly what he wants, though?” She sighed. “But, yeah, sure, I’ll join you on patrol. Give me a second to finish this bit of homework, and I’ll meet you outside.”

Phantom grinned, wide and bright, and saluted her. Then he was gone.

She rolled her eyes—he was definitely running head-first into a trap—but did as she’d said. Her homework was almost done anyway, and she had plenty of time for the rest later. For now, she had to make sure that Phantom wasn’t doing anything stupid.

And, yeah, in some way he was her older brother. Maybe she was a bit too worried about Phantom. He was, after all, both older and more experienced as a half-ghost. He was way stronger than she was, could beat her easily if they fought.

But he didn’t always make good decisions. And that? That wasn’t a Phantom thing. That was a Danny thing.

Besides, they both knew that Phantom wasn’t happy to be here. No matter how hard he tried to be cheery, to help to the best of his abilities… He missed his home. He wanted dearly to go home. It was clear, so clear.

So, Jazz was glad that he was staying around anyway. That he was helping her with all this, instead of looking for a way home. Sure, he said that there was no point in looking for portals back, but there must be other ways. And even if he didn’t know about them just yet, he could’ve done tons of research in the time he’d been here.

But, no. Instead he’d stuck around in Amity, helping her. Training her, mentoring her, teaching her.

With her homework swiftly finished, Jazz pushed herself away from her desk, out of her chair. She bit her lip, hesitating for just a second… Leaving with Phantom to patrol would be sneaking out, wouldn’t it? But as long as she returned before it was too late her parents wouldn’t miss her, and Danny definitely wouldn’t.

She easily shifted to her ghost form, turning invisible and intangible so she could sneak out unnoticed. From her room it was just a short flight to the rooftop where Phantom was waiting, and she dropped her invisibility almost immediately.

“All done?” Phantom asked, pushing himself to his feet. With a quick flash of light he returned to his usual ghost form—he must’ve shifted back to avoid ghost detectors.

“Yeah. Lead the way, Phantom.”

He nodded, pushing himself off of the rooftop. Jazz followed him, taking a moment to remember the first they’d met. When she could barely fly up to meet Phantom’s height, never mind follow his steady flight.

She still couldn’t match his grace in the air, but, well. Danny had always been aiming for space. It made sense that he was better at flight, at disregarding gravity, than she was.

They found the vulture ghosts faster than the ghost hunters found Phantom, which either said worrying things about the hunters, or great things about them.

Unfortunately they weren’t that much faster, and the cacophony from the human hunters distracted her and Phantom long enough for Vlad’s minions to get away from them.

“Just follow my lead,” Phantom told her, a grin on his face, before he turned a full 180 degrees and flew back over the ghost hunters chasing them—him—them. She scowled, but did as he asked.

The hunters, in four clearly-uncoordinated groups, got tangled up in each other when they tried to give chase. Only a single shot was fired in their direction, and it went so wide that Jazz was almost embarrassed for the hunter who had fired it.

With their tail thus thrown off, the two of them managed to track down one of the vultures.

“Must’ve split up,” Phantom mumbled under his breath. They were hidden from the ghost around the corner of a building, ready to chase it down. “I’ll come from the front and freeze it, you catch it in the Thermos.”

“Gotcha.” She nodded, pressing her feet against the wall so she could push herself off.

Phantom nodded back, and off they went. He shot straight at the vulture, legs immediately melting into his spectral tail, hands glowing blue. He didn’t even fire the ice beam from the distance, like she knew he could, but held off until he was practically touching the vulture before releasing the shot.

It was effective, though, she had to give him that. The ghost was frozen solid, and the Thermos sucked it up easily.

“One down, two to go,” Phantom said, rejoining her. “Let’s keep up the pace, before those suckers catch up again.”

They returned to their sweeping loops over Amity, both turning invisible when they passed the ghost hunters again. Jazz thought they had ghost detectors, but they either didn’t have them, or didn’t use them, because the hunters didn’t even notice them. Suckers.

The two of them used a similar tactic on the second vulture, once they had found him. This time, though, Phantom scared the vulture by flying at him from the front, while she caught it off-guard—and in the Thermos.

“Just one more.” She grinned at Phantom. “Are you sure you didn’t ask me along just to make this go faster?”

He laughed, holding up his hands. “Guilty as charged. But, really, do you still think those guys are a threat to me after this?”

“I guess you’re right,” she allowed. “Come on, let’s go catch that last vulture.”

Just then, both their ghost senses went off.

“Well, I guess that he’s making it easy,” Phantom said, twisting his head to look upwards. “Oh, yeah, there he is.”

Jazz followed his pointing finger, and indeed, there the third vulture ghost was. Way up high, and actively flying around.

“What are we waiting for?” She smirked at Phantom, Thermos already in her hand. “Let’s get him.”

He grinned at the challenge, and before she could move, he launched himself upwards. Jazz laughed, quickly flying after him, even if she couldn’t match his speed.

The vulture squawked when Phantom hit him, apparently forgoing ghostly tactics to just body-slam the vulture at top speed. Jazz worried for a moment about how she was supposed to catch him in a Thermos, but Phantom was already turning around, arms still wrapped around the ghost.

They leveled out with her, stopping abruptly, and Phantom released the ghost. Apparently the maneuver had disoriented the vulture, because he didn’t even try to fly away.

Jazz uncapped the Thermos, held it up, and captured the ghost in its vortex. Satisfied with a job well done, she capped the Thermos again, clicking it back on her belt.

“And that was the last of them,” she said, a satisfied hum to her core.

Phantom dusted his hands, grinning at her. “Yeah. Thanks for the help, it really made things easier for me.”

“Not that you needed the help,” she countered with a shake of her head. “Seriously, those ghost hunters are just sad. I know that people don’t like it when we protect the town, but we have to be better than that, right?”

“The Fentons aren’t that bad either,” Phantom pointed out with a shrug. “And there’s always Val.”

“There sure is,” a familiar voice answered, and Jazz’ eyes snapped upwards. Red, and a lot of it. The whine of some sort of technology, and a blinding flash of light.

Jazz clenched her eyes shut, slowly opening them when the light faded again.

Valerie stood on her hoverboard, a knock-off Thermos in her black-gloved hands. It was nigh impossible to read her expression thanks to her mask, but Jazz thought she was frowning down at the device.

Wait.

Where was Phantom?

She looked around, but there was no trace of him. It was like he… disappeared.

Oh.

“Did you just catch my brother?” she bit at Valerie, twisting back to look at her. “I thought you were alright with us!”

Valerie scoffed, shoving her Thermos in a holster on her thigh. “There were more important targets. It’s a thing called prioritizing.”

“What, and we suddenly pushed to the top of your priorities?” Jazz asked, but cold realization seeped in. “Oh, no, of course. It was the bounty, wasn’t it?”

“Oh please.” Valerie huffed, her tone of voice making it sound like she rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect a ghost to understand what that money means to me, to my family.”

“There is no money!” Jazz snapped back, feeling her glow flare out, ectoplasm sparking around her fists. “It’s a trap, Huntress! Just let Phantom go. Don’t do this.”

“Or what?” Valerie bit back. “You’ll attack me? Not good for your status as protector, is it?”

“I’m serious! It’s a trap, alright, and you won’t get the money.” Jazz darted around to block Valerie’s path. “The bounty isn’t real, some ghost put it out because he wants Phantom out of the way, I swear!”

Valerie scoffed, pushing Jazz out of her way. “Yeah, I don’t believe you. Leave, Specter, or I’ll shoot you.”

“Fine.” Jazz moved aside, crossing her arms. “Go, then, prove me right. But don’t blame me if this comes back to bite you in the ass, Huntress.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Valerie murmured, shaking her head. Her hoverboard roared to life, and away Valerie went—with Phantom captured in a Thermos.

“Ugh,” Jazz sighed, immediately dropping her stern posture. “I can’t believe— Of course she would be out here too, hunting for the bounty.”

She knew she should go out after them, should free Phantom, but… there wasn’t all that much she could do. Valerie would probably release Phantom sooner or later herself, once she discovered that it really was a trap. And Phantom wouldn’t want her to follow, either. Would want her to keep her house, and the ghost Portal, safe.

So she reluctantly turned around, flying back home.

No ghost hunters bothered her.

---

Danny had some experience with getting captured with ghost hunting devices, but the Thermos always remained one of his least favorites. The Weasel, at least, allowed him to overhear the outside, to still feel like he existed. The Thermos was… was nothing. From the moment he went in to the moment he was released again, it was like no time had passed.

It wasn’t�� uncomfortable, or something. It just… didn’t exist. As long as he was in the Thermos, he was completely and utterly unaware. It was like no time passed at all; he was just suddenly elsewhere, and also it was three hours later.

He tumbled back into awareness—literally—staring right into Valerie’s mask. It was creased heavily around her brows, a clear sign of her frowning at him. And glaring, probably, knowing Valerie.

They were inside a cage of sorts, the bars made out of pink ectoplasm. Ah, yes. Danny remembered this part.

“I hate your sister,” Valerie told him, leaning right into his face. “I want you to know that.”

“Duly noted.” He rolled his shoulder, grimacing at the sound of it crackling. “She warned you about the trap, huh?”

Valerie hissed, low, and Danny raised his hands. “Chill, it’s fine. Specter can be a bit of a know-it-all sometimes. She’s clever, but she’s not great at conveying that knowledge.”

“I don’t care,” Valerie growled, then took an audible breath. When she continued, her voice was calmer. “Look, I just… I know you and Specter aren’t actively causing trouble in the city, so you’re not, like, high on my shitlist or anything. But that bounty went out and… it seemed too good to be true, but I just… wanted it to be real.” She shrugged. “My family and I… we really could’ve used that money.”

“It’s fine, Red. I get it.” Danny caught himself halfway through lifting a comforting hand, freezing in place. Valerie probably wouldn’t be receptive to that sort of thing, not from him. “I know everyone thinks that ghosts don’t remember anything from their lives, but… I know I do. And I… I remember what being poor can do to someone. How much it sucks, and what kind of weird shit people might pull just for some money.”

Valerie cocked her head slightly, her mask crunching together slightly. “Like what?”

“What, is this a cross-examination now?” He rolled his eyes, huffed for dramatic effect. “I might have sold stuff from my parents’ shed to make some money, hoping that they had hoarded enough stuff that they wouldn’t notice.”

“That’s nowhere near what I just did,” Valerie pointed out, crossing her arms.

“Well, no, but it’s not like I had ghost hunting equipment or potentially dangerous ghosts to chase down.” Danny shrugged, loosely. “Seriously, it’s fine. Not the first time I’ve been caught, and you, at least, had a pretty valid reason to catch me. If I had to get captured for this bounty stuff, I’m glad that it was you and not one of those other hunters.”

She made a face. Or, well. He thought she did. “Are those… seriously the best money could buy? Because, uh, yikes. I had no idea ghost hunting, as a profession, looked like that.”

“Yeah, you made a poor career choice.” He grinned at her. “But, hey, you’ve got plenty of time left to change stuff around. Or to better the name of ghost hunting. Either or, really. Up to you.”

“You sound like a motivational speaker.” Valerie scoffed. “Seriously, I thought you were bad during battles, but this? This is worse.”

“Aw, Red, I didn’t know you cared.” He pressed a hand against his chest, blinking lovingly. It was just… too easy to fall back into his easy banter with Val. He knew he shouldn’t, but, well. Banter was better than fighting, yeah? “But, for real, I get it. Specter and I, we try our best, but we’re not perfect. We can’t catch every ghost the moment they look like they’re up to anything malicious, unfortunately. I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“I don’t think you are,” she said, shaking her head, but Danny recognized that tone. It was her “I’m starting to acknowledge that you’re actually kind of human-like but I refuse to accept it” tone.

And, yes, Valerie had a tone like that. It was rare, but the few times he’d heard it had been memorable enough to stick.

“Well, that’s up to you.” He reached out a hand towards the bars, but they didn’t shock him. Ah, yeah, just like last time. Not phase-proof. “You want me to apologize by phasing you out of this?”

“You can do that?” She jerked her head back towards him. “I thought— It looked like ectoplasmic energy, I figured it would zap you if you tried.”

He wrapped a hand around the bar, tugging it meaningfully. “Doesn’t look like it. Besides, isn’t that why you let me out of the Thermos again? Or did you just want to vent about my sister so badly that even I would do?”

“Oh, shut up,” she grunted. “Just let me out and we’ll ignore this ever happened.”

“Sure thing, Red. The closer you are to the bars, the shorter I’ll have to make you intangible, so…” He gestured vaguely. “I’m assuming you want that time to be as short as possible, anyway.”

She inched closer, keeping her head turning towards him the whole time. “Why do you keep calling me that, anyway?”

“What, Red?” He shrugged. “Specter and I needed a name to refer to you, and, well. You’re a ghost hunter, dressed almost entirely in red. So, the Red Huntress.”

Valerie stopped next to the bars—and him—and stared him down. “I would comment on your naming skills, but I feel like that’s a lost cause, since you’re two ghosts called Specter and Phantom.”

“Believe me, I’ve heard it before.” He offered her a hand. “The worst part is honestly that we didn’t even coordinate that. We didn’t know the other had become a ghost until we ran into each other.”

“So shitty names are a family trait?” Valerie asked as she took his hand. Hers was warm even through her gloves.

Danny paused, thinking of literally every single one of his parents’ inventions. He shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.”

“I… I really don’t know how to feel about that, Phantom.”

He laughed, and used the moment of distraction to turn the both of them intangible. He stepped backwards through the bars, tugging Valerie along with him. Released both the intangibility and her as soon as they were through.

“That’s fair,” he ended up saying with another shrug. “My family was… a lot.”

“At least Specter still is,” Valerie said. Then she froze, seemingly startled by the fact that she’d just said something comforting to a ghost.

“That, she is,” he agreed with a nod. “Speaking of, I should go check in with her. Tell her you didn’t re-kill me or anything. Will you be alright from here on out?”

Valerie scoffed. “I don’t need your help. Yes, Phantom, I’ll be fine. Go worry over your sister.”

“I will. Stay safe, Red.”

He pushed off before she could answer, darting upwards too fast to hear anything she might shout afterwards. After that, however, he lowered his speed for the flight back home. Or, well. Back to FentonWorks. His dad could deal with Vlad fine on his own, and Jazz was around in this universe, too.

Still, even a casual speed brought him to FentonWorks quickly, and he landed on the same rooftop that he’d started the patrol on. He only had to wait for a few moments before Jazz appeared next to him.

Danny opened his mouth to greet her, but suddenly a body was pressed against him, chilly arms wrapping around him.

“Hey, Jazz,” he said, voice soft, as he wrapped his own arms around her. “It’s fine, I’m alright.”

“I was worried,” she admitted quietly. “I… I knew you’d be okay, but I couldn’t stop worrying.”

“I’m sorry.” He ran his hand through her hair, as strange and gravity-defying as his own. “I didn’t realize you’d be so worried, or I would’ve stopped talking to Val sooner. I promise, I’m fine.”

She huffed a breath in his neck, then pulled away a little. “You were talking to Valerie?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “Yeah. Warming her up a little to, well. Ghosts in general, I think, but mostly to us. How’d things go here?”

“They went fine. I didn’t have to do anything.” She pulled away entirely, but still didn’t look quite settled. “Dad beat up Plasmius with some of the inventions, and Mom and Danny just kind of shouted encouragements at him. I didn’t even have to do anything.”

“Good, good. That’s pretty much what happened in my universe too.” He nodded, rolling his spine and grinning at Jazz’ disgusted face. “Well, not the encouraging part, but Dad defeated Vlad on his own. In my universe, the vultures had grabbed Mom and, uh, Jazz, and trapped them in the weapon vault.”

Jazz blinked at him for a moment. “We have a weapons vault?”

“Yeah? It’s got a circular door and a keypad?” He shrugged. “It’s also not phaseproof, so it’s kind of worthless against ghosts. Well, it isn’t phaseproof now. They improved it when too many weapons disappeared but, well. Not much point to it if they kept telling me the password.”

“That’s ridiculous. How did I not know that it existed? You should show me where it is, later, just in case.”

“Sure thing.” He yawned. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. Shouldn’t you head to bed soon?”

She heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah, I… Wait a minute. You talked with Valerie! Danny!” She jumped forward, suddenly, crowding him. “You need to tell me what you two talked about!”

“Woah, chill, Jazz.” He gently pushed her away again. “Now?”

“Yeah, now!” she snapped at him. “You tried to change the topic so I would forget! I need to know what you two talked about so I know how to approach her tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He shook his head. “Alright, so, it started like this…”