#worldbuilding setting

[lordsovorn]

Life needs water.

The Under, luckily for its unwilling inhabitants, has water.

To be more honest, water is unavoidable in the Under, as it has shaped a vast portion of its twisted architecture. Underground rivers and the slow dripping of water through the cracks are a factor, yes, as usual in cave formation - but not only them. They say unimaginable volumes of water once tore through the Under, washed through the earth with furious waves and connected the chambers of the Purgatory. They say that was the Fall.

Fall waters are remnants of that ancient fury, pockets of saltwater in the dead ends of the tunnels, crevices and wells. Dead, still lakes, slowly seeping through the rock deeper and deeper. Full of rusty secrets and disintegrating bones.

Calling them "dead" is somewhat misleading though. Even though enough time has passed for the corpses to rot away and even for the scavengers to die off, foamy layers of bacteria often feed on the minerals within. Sometimes tendrils of the Flesh breathe new life into these ponds, and tiny crustaceans scuttle among the crushed gravel.

Natural rivers and streams flow through the caves as well, and when they connect to the fall waters, the drowned secrets are once again drawn by the currents. It is not uncommon for pressure to accumulate slowly and for water to erupt into another chamber either. That is to say - water is unpredictable in the Under. It is a force worthy of respect and extreme caution. Besides concealing environmental dangers, it is never certain to be safe to drink, as reservoirs, isolated for years, might suddenly mix through an unseen faraway hollow.

The ancients had the technology to filter this water. In the upper reaches of the Under, water stations pump or collect water into reservoirs. Those filters are now almost impossible to reproduce, but they are plenty, even if some of them get clogged, malfunctioning or severed from their cables. There is plenty more in the Fallen Heaven itself, should someone be desperate enough to return there.

Deeper in the Under though, one will have to rely on the natural waters. On their own judgement, their own portable filters, and the moisture from living things. They say there is a sea down there, somewhere - a place where all the fall water eventually goes to, and where the two main known rivers flow.

Lete and Akeron (no, no one remember why they are called that) mark the boundaries of human habitat, in a way. Far from the usual image of a river, these are ephemeral and ever-shifting, burrowing into walls and carving through the underworld, emerging as a trickle in one place and a violent flood in another. Lete is used to irrigate the automatic Farms, though the widespread presence of Raptors makes it difficult to utilize fully. Its flow can be heard even through the walls, and thus a helpful "landmark" of sorts. Akeron flows from "the Dam", which most in the Under know well to avoid. Slower and prone to droughts, it is both less dangerous and less reliable. The City of Fire used to rely on the water from Akeron, and it reaches all the way down to the Intestines. Many areas of open Akeron have life in them - especially where it flows over areas volcanic activity, creating a sort of "river geothermal vent" environment.

[prompt-heaven]

a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing References: World-Building

20 Questions ⚜ 100 Words for World-building

Basics: World-building ⚜ Places ⚜ Imagery ⚜ Setting

Exploring your Setting ⚜ Habitats ⚜ Kinds of Fantasy Worlds

Fantasy World-building ⚜ World-building Vocabulary

Worksheets: Magic & Rituals ⚜ Geography; World History; City; Fictional Plant ⚜ A General Template

Editing

Setting & Pacing Issues ⚜ Editing Your Own Novel

Writing Notes

Animal Culture ⚜ Autopsy ⚜ Alchemy ⚜ Ancient Wonders

Art: Elements ⚜ Principles ⚜ Photographs ⚜ Watercolour

Creating: Fictional Items ⚜ Fictional Poisons ⚜ Magic Systems

Cruise Ships ⚜ Dystopian World ⚜ Parts of a Castle

Culture ⚜ Culture Shock ⚜ Ethnocentrism & Cultural Relativism

Food: How to Describe ⚜ Lists ⚜ Cooking Basics ⚜ Herbs & Spices ⚜ Sauces ⚜ Wine-tasting ⚜ Aphrodisiacs ⚜ List of Aphrodisiacs ⚜ Food History ⚜ Cocktails ⚜ Literary Cocktails ⚜ Liqueurs ⚜ Uncommon Fruits & Vegetables

Greek Vases ⚜ Sapphire ⚜ Relics ⚜ Types of Castles

Hate ⚜ Love ⚜ Kinds of Love ⚜ The Physiology of Love

Mystical Objects ⚜ Talisman ⚜ Uncommon Magic Systems

Moon: Part 1 2 ⚜ Seasons: Autumn ⚜ Spring ⚜ Summer

Shapes of Symbols ⚜ Symbolism ⚜ Slang: 1930s

Symbolism: Of Colors Part 1 2 ⚜ Of Food ⚜ Of Storms

Topics List ⚜ Write Room Syndrome

Vocabulary

Agrostology ⚜ Allergy ⚜ Architecture ⚜ Baking ⚜ Biochemistry

Ecology ⚜ Esoteric ⚜ Gemology ⚜ Geology ⚜ Weather ⚜ Art

Editorial ⚜ Fashion ⚜ Latin Forensic ⚜ Law ⚜ Medieval

Psychology ⚜ Phylogenetics ⚜ Science ⚜ Zoology

Writing References: Plot ⚜ Character Development

[kinerxy]

Honrses

[elodieunderglass]

Horror isekai where Perceiving the Weird Eldritch Thing gets you catapulted into a nightmare labyrinth of puzzle-solving.

I.e Those Who Perceive The Hunt of the Goblin King Must Partake In The Labyrinth and Can Only Be Freed If They Complete It In One Day and One Night. By Fae Law. For Reasons.

But the definition of “perception” clearly needs to be updated because some normal guy simply films the Hunt of the Goblin King Behind Arby’s, and puts it on Facebook -

No, not instagram or TikTok, it’s important that it be Facebook -

Because the rules are pretty clear, “the rules are the rules” as is carved ominously in elvish runes above the grim gate, and the Contract is Sealed. and so therefore the guy and 25 of their most random real-life acquaintances must run the gauntlet together. It’s Some Guy, their immediate neighbors, their first partner’s mom, their friends from hobby Facebook groups (oh this poor guy and their hobbies; the elderly birdwatchers from Facebook and the young up-and-coming drag king community), their random teen kid niece, college friends, a dog who also watched the video, a couple consisting of a woman who is the guy’s Facebook friend and showed her husband the video, and the husband doesn’t even know Some Guy, so he’s in the labyrinth and absolutely furious about being forced to be involved, and they proceed to break up over the course of the puzzle.

It’s important that the narrative keeps trying to be a sexy dark horror isekai! but within this the comedic reality of Catherine, 52, the guy’s horse-riding instructor, being passionately involved in escape-room-style puzzle solving and grappling with minor goblins. They are in fact speedrunning the gauntlet.

The Goblin King finally has to say: all right, actually, I only really set all this up to fuck with one (1) guy at a time, thanks for your willingness to participate, but I think all 25 of you can consider the gauntlet fully run.

And the group would be quite hurt by that. The rules are the rules. We have a contract, actually. Let Catherine cook.

[kaidatheghostdragon]

De-age fic, but good parents AU

Something de-ages danny, not a clue what exactly, but it does. BUT, danny had already had a good reveal with his parents, so he goes home and they see him de-aged and immediately get to work figuring out how to get him back to normal.

Life goes on as normal, its just that danny's body is about ten years younger. He still has to go to school (with a story that the thing that de-aged danny was aimed at fenton and phantom jumped in to take the hit but it got both of them - or open secret au, take your pick), still has chores, still has to deal with the ghosts that cause problems.

With barely a pause to question 'is that still danny?' everyone continues as normal.

Thing is, there's the typical information firewall we like to invoke to explain why the justice league doesnt know about amity. It blocks ghosts, Phantom, infinite realms, liminality and ecto-contamination, you name it.

What it doesnt block? Baby Hero.

As in, now that Phantom is tiny, everyone and their dog is taking pics and recording phantom to coo all over him on social media. Everyone is enjoying how adorable he is while it lasts. Even the rogues are playing nicer to soak it all up.

The justice league is concerned. Apparently there's some new hero (phantom has been active for over a year by now, minimum) operating in the midwest, and he is literally preschool age. Even the Robins didn't start that young! Who is raising this kid? What are they thinking?!

Its frustratingly hard to get any more intel about phantom (because the firewall is still catching everything else about him), so theyre gonna have to send someone in blind to scope out the situation.

Who do they send? You can decide, but i vote they put together a team: batman (wfa characterization) because he knows how to handle child vigilantes, wonder woman because everyone loves wonder woman and she's a good voice of reason, and zatanna (NOT constantine! Zatanna is more child friendly) to cover magical bases in case this is something like a captain marvel situation.

[sanctus-ingenium]

Collectable woodblock prints commemorating individual conquests were commonplace in the theocracy, distributed by the church as a way to announce its victories.

get a print here :>

[thecrazyworldbuilder]

Oh this makes up for such a cool otherworldly setting really.

[tickfleato]

i made her smooth

[dramiserable]

I saw Miku at the village festival the other week trust me

[dunmeshistash]

Anything you wanna share about half-foots? Like anything you find interesting?

I don't think there's much else I can share about half-foot after I compiled the half-foot post (I tried to add everything interesting I found there) but my favorite thing about the half-foots is the Guild/Union Chilchuck founded.

It is mentioned that Half-foots are used as bait and treated badly but the reaction of forming a Union for worker rights is something I never expected in a fantasy setting and I love it. And that includes the fact we got a scab too.

Mickbell is also a victim of how half-foot are treated, but he doesn't understand the guild exists for people like him and that helping with funds at the end of the day is a benefit to him because the guild protects them from abusive contracts. Also if you haven't seen these extras, don't worry about the dog that's his father, he isn't actually being taken advantage of.

Anyway, My only other experience with this fantasy race is lotr hobbits, and they are SO different from half-foot, I know half-foot are more based on the DnD race (Halflings?) which I barely know anything about, so I wonder how similar they are.

[lordsovorn]

The sky above you is getting paler, the clouds disappearing in the white static. Between the rustle of leaves and the footsteps of horses, a quiet even hum is slowly growing louder. You can't yet point it out - and later on you'll simply be too used to it to notice.

...

Introduction to a setting I haven't posted about before.

...

More and more houses are dotted along the road. Tents, shanty towns, old taverns with overgrown gardens. Figures shuffle in the shadowy alleys of this limbo, neither out in the wild, nor inside the safety of the City.

Perhaps your village was ravaged by bloodthirsty marauders or merciless creatures of the night. Perhaps a storm came, and left it a twisted cobweb of molten stone and burnt bodies. Perhaps a maneater swamp slowly seeped under the foundations of your home until it was too late for everyone but you. Perhaps you've simply outgrown your tiny muddy bubble beneath the shifting gray sky. Either way, you seek safety, certainty and hope - and there is nowhere to go, ultimately, but to the White City.

Maybe it had a name, but it was forgotten. Maybe it never did, and was built from the ground up by the Company around the first Gates.

Either way, the White City is Civilization. It is the Center of the World - or what's left of it.

Few will get through the borders easily. Maybe you'll trudge through the colossal bureaucracic machine with passion in your eyes, favors and handshakes behind your back, valuables in hand and sheer persistence. Maybe you'll find a crack to slip in. Maybe you'll bribe a guard or pay a trafficker. Maybe you'll dig and crawl through the sewers. There are many ways forward, no road back.

Through the narrow passageways at the bottom, lit by lanterns and trashfires, followed by faceless gazes and stiff gestures. Through the maintenance tunnels with deep shadows and red lights, through the hanging megastructures extending far below, illuminated by cold projectors. You'll be lost in the labyrinth of towers above the streets. A spiderweb of rails, cables and bridges. Layer upon layer upon layer. Void-like black shadows from the intense light above.

Dirt like you isn't welcome on the gleaming cleanliness of its streets. If you want to stay, you'll stick to the alleys, to places where you are unseen. To the shadowy corners teaming with monsters, strangers and rats like you, from the strangest of places. Maybe you'll even find someone who will give a non-citizen work. Or maybe you'll tumble to the very bottom and rob those who are more lost than you, until a bigger fish comes along. Inevitably.

There are many paths through the City, literally and metaphorically. Maybe one day you'll even reach the marvelous floating villas and fortresses, anchored to huge spires. Factories with thousands of chimneys, vast halls of the University around the shimmering Gates, plazas, dotted with towering ceramic sentinels. Balloons and giant kites, black dots along the endlessly white sky.

Or maybe the stark, patient darkness below is the only thing that awaits you.

Strangers in the bars will laugh at you and call you lab meat. That is, if we are being sincere, an entirely possible outcome.

You need the City - there is nothing beyond it. So you'd better find a way to make the City need you.

[charseraph]

Inspired by @turbofanatic and @deadwooddross

[prokopetz]

Inadvisable tabletop RPG premise #137: Fantasy setting where wizard towers have approximately the same role and cultural significance as Cold War nuclear missile silos. It’s impossible to really hide the fact that you’re casting a high-level spell, and extremely difficult to defend against one, so all of the world’s greatest wizards are locked in a mutually assured destruction scenario; the moment any one of them tries to perform a world-shaping act of magic, all of the other great wizards will smell it and immediately respond by casting Fuck That Guy In Particular.

The setting otherwise superficially resembles a perfectly standard Generic Fantasy Setting, though any close examination will rapidly reveal how deeply its culture is informed by the looming knowledge that the world is perpetually one wizardly temper tantrum away from total annihilation, and the extent to which the conspicuous Generic Fantasy atmosphere is a deliberately constructed facade of business-as-usual over a howling void of nihilistic uncertainty.

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Text: In the desert, dry lightning can be read like tea leaves, a glimpse of the future in a blinding flash of branching lines. Shut your eyes, and you can study the afterimage for a moment longer.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6