#needles notwithstanding

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome

@atropos_aeneas @Anguished-Lurker @higgidigs @princessfanonanona @Ghostfox_fuyu @armed-with-knitting-needles

No one had ever died, a fact Phantom and all of Amity was frankly proud of, that couldn’t last though… could it? Or was everyone just too changed by everything for them to be undone by death? Either way, Lancer has class to teach and a school to more or less run.

Lancer was well aware of the simple fact that Amity Park was a very dangerous and strange town to live in, and he was also well aware that the reason for that was not just the ghosts; only mostly them. The teens in town had all long since lost any semblance of risk avoidance and had taken to doing incredibly dangerous hobbies; frequent drag races, parkour, rooftop hockey, and actively playing with the smaller ghosts. It worried him some honestly, more so in the early days than now, now it was just simply normal.

Everyone being slightly ecto-contaminated, and thusly much more durable with minor healing factors, gave him some peace of mind at least.

Further, if he’s being honest, Jack Fenton’s driving was far more dangerous than any ghost, known and unknown, to man. He, like everyone else in Amity, firmly believed that who ever approved Jack Fenton’s license, if anyone actually had, should be fired and investigated posthaste. One of the downsides to being aware of the road threat that was Jack Fenton was being too relaxed when there wasn’t a GAV road warning out. Another was not being worried about any other driver's, because surely one insane driver would cancel out the requirement for any other forms of bad driving; everyone would drive like angels to avoid being compared to Jack, drag races notwithstanding. And the last downside was having something of a god complex behind the wheel, if one could survive Jack Fenton’s driving on the weekly then surely they were immune to road-related injuries.

All three of these downsides were exactly why Lancer was currently in this situation. Him get t-boned by a semi -an out of town delivery semi, Lancer notes very pointedly- and was thrown front end first into a fire hydrant… and unfortunately all of Amity’s fire hydrants -and telephone poles for that matter- had to be reinforced both because of ghosts and Jack Fenton.

Now all of that would have been acceptable, more or less, he would have gotten badly injured for sure but Lancer had always had a love for older vehicles; meaning he drove an older vehicle, one without a seatbelt or airbags. In retrospect that was rather foolish to do in Amity, but sue him, he was allowed to take some risks himself too. So instead of smashing his face into an airbag and having a seatbelt to hold him in, Lancer went out the windshield, which thankfully seemed to just pop out since he never really felt it shatter.

So now here Lancer is, groaning and pushing himself up out of a bush, a bush that he is thanking everything that he got thrown into since it must have cushioned the impact. And giving himself a once over, maybe not wearing seatbelts or having airbags in this town was actually a good idea, seeing as there doesn’t appear to be a single scratch on him. His clothing isn’t even torn, at least he doesn’t have to try and replace one of his favourite shirts; it was important to appreciate the little mercies. His car on the other hand…

Pushing his way out of the bush and staring at the wreck, his car is a pancake. Unrecognizable even.

If he hadn’t been thrown out he would certainly be dead.

Explicitly dead.

Vaguely he wonders if he would have become a ghost himself, in this town and with this contamination, it was mostly likely a certainty. Instead, his potentially poor road safety decisions and ecto-contamination had just saved him. Saved him from not just medical bills but potentially death itself. Breathing out slowly, quoting Isaac Asimov, “Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome”, breathing again, “much the same, I was well before and I shall be well again. Any shock, replacing my car, and suddenly facing my mortality; is only a troublesome transitional period”; and breaths again.

He’s aright.

Well. Okay.

Yes he’ll need to check his meager bank account -even these days teachers were still woefully underpaid- to see if he had the funds for a new used vehicle. Then there was all the time researching and searching for something he could both drive and would enjoy driving. But he was o-kay, and that was enough.

He, however, did not have the time for shock or to got to the hospital; he had a class to teach tomorrow and paper work to be done. Daniel was still settling in as a teacher and Lancer will not let that boy-now-man down now after everything Lancer’s done to get him to enjoy schooling again. Especially when his parents still seemed to not truly care about the man, and frankly the odd man was only able to get a job by being too good to refuse to hire… and it helped Daniel actually cared about all the teens. Wanted them to not go through all the troubles he seemingly did; the stories Lancer got often made him feel like he both failed and succeeded with the man at the same time.

Was Lancer distracting himself with his usual worry ex-student? Maybe. But it gets him moving to check on the driver enough to see that the older man’s alright but shaken and calling the emergency line. Lancer would stick around but again, he has school to prepare for.

So instead he walks home. Nothing more nothing less. Doesn’t stop for food. Doesn’t go to peruse the Bookworm’s shelves for new reads, as he had been planing to do. Doesn’t even stop to say high to the nearest gas station clerk. He goes home, makes tea, wraps himself in a blanket, allows himself to watch three episodes of his most recent favourite soap opera, and then finishes winding down with paper work. Grading seniors papers was usually genuinely enjoyable rather than purely tedious or worrying, since seniors took things more seriously.

It’s… a good way to end what could have been a truly horrific day even if he definitely felt a fair bit off kilter.

When he gets up in the morning he doesn’t really think much about still feeling a bit off or the bout of insomnia he had; he had been through a rather traumatic experience after all. He only hopes the lack of sleep doesn’t catch up with him in the middle of the day, he didn’t like being off his game. However, having a tired teacher and vice principle, was better than not having one at all. He’ll take what he can get in this case, he was lucky he was fine at all as it was.

So regardless of the potential looming exhaustion, Lancer hails a cab to work. The cabbie gives Lancer a bit of a strange look but quickly shrugs and takes him to Casper-high without comment; perhaps Lancer should have actually checked his face for any bruising, he did have make up he could have covered any busing with after all…

The ride was blissfully normal, thankfully, at least. Yes Lancer will admit he was a bit nervous about another accident, even if the chance of that happen twice in one week to him was statistically speaking incredibly unlikely. The sun hasn’t risen above the horizon yet, the sky is clear, there’s no ghosts, and Casper-high looks fully intact.

Good. Normal.

However, as he approaches the building, something explicitly not normal and concerningly not good happens. The faintly sparkling ghost shield, the one that mostly protected the school from most of at least the weaker ghosts, the one FentonWorks product that had never caused any kind of issues or damages, the one anti-ghost method of protecting the students that didn’t involve guns, and the one that Lancer had felt the mild tingle of passing through near daily for the past year. The tingle was strange but an easy adjustment, especially for the safety it provided, being ecto-contaminated was well known to be why the tingle happened especially as those who frequented Casper-high had more ecto-contamination than most. The Highschool was, unfortunately, a ghost hot spot after all and frequent decontamination of the grounds and equipment was a must as a result.

Apparently today was the day that the shield decided to be a problem, perhaps the ecto-contamination in him -and likely all the other more senior staff- had simply gotten to too high a level… which would of course mean he’d have to have a conversation with the Fenton’s immediately. Or rather, he should call Daniel, let him know of this issue and to arrive slightly early to check it out, that was a far less painful idea and would involve far less monologuing from the Fenton patriarch… or the man accusing Lancer of being a ghost and covering him in goop for the hundredth time.

So Lancer pulls out his phone with a sigh, eyeing the shield as it rings and he holds it up to his ear.

“Lance? What’s up? It’s still, like, ass-o-clock in the morning there’s no way I’m late. Oh Ancients am I late or something? Fuck”.

Lancer sighs to himself, he never did manage to get Daniel’s language under control. At least he never swore at students… well, he did just not in English, which was good enough apparently. “Language. No, you’re not late. However there seems to be an, issue, of some kind with the ghost shield and I was inquiring if you’d be willing to check it out before I have to deal with Maddie or, forbid, Jack”, then quoting Eat That Frog!, “One of the very worst uses of time is to do something very well that need not to be done at all”.

Daniel laughs, loudly, “okay, okay, that makes sense. I’ll be there sooner than you’d expect me to be, ‘cause Amity is ‘like that” and all. If it’s really jacked up then I’ll have to get them to take it down though”, grumbling, “since I’m not allowed to have the codes or blueprints anymore”.

Lancer frowns faintly, those parents of his had absolutely no trust in him anymore, yes Daniel was ‘pro ghost’ unlike them and yes Daniel was also a prankster known for messing with things, but that didn’t really matter. Daniel was a genius in his own right, about ghosts and tech and space, he just didn’t agree with them, which made him a fool and a risk in their eyes. Lancer shakes his head, “unfortunate. I’ll see you soon then”. The phone clicks off and Lancer settles in to wait.

Daniel shows up not even three minutes later, weirdly quick, almost concerning actually, but that was normal for him. It was something to do with his and the towns contamination making it so that he nearly teleported unintentionally around when he wanted to go somewhere specific, the towns ecto-energy snagging onto his and pulling him along… or at least that’s the explanation Daniel was going with at least.

Daniel is waving at him with furrowed brows and a possibly pinched -it was hard to tell with Daniel- smile, the man does eye the shield some as he gets over fully. Daniel humming, “well it’s not on fire”.

Lancer grimaces, that would be much more concerning, “is that possible?”.

Daniel shrugs, “I mean maybe, their base substrate before filtering and whatnot is super flammable. I’m not allowed near it for reasons”, and smirks to himself in that way that tells Lancer the man intentionally set something on fire with it. Daniel looks back to him, and yes his smile is definitely pinched, “let’s, uh, walk over to the control box”, gestures over Lancer’s shoulder and starts walking without waiting for a response.

Lancer just watches him go for a beat, a little thrown off, something was up and something being up with Daniel was never good. Having to catch up a little, even if Daniel wasn’t exactly going fast since he knew that Lancer wasn’t what anyone would call a fast walker, “alright, what’s wrong? I can tell something is bothering you”.

Daniel glances at him before running a hand through his hair, his other stuffed into his pants pocket, “Lance… there ain’t a great to say this-”.

Oh. On Shakespeare’s grave, that is an incredibly bad thing to hear Daniel say. No one, especially Daniel, says that there isn’t a great way to say something unless the something is either very bad, very annoying, or very upsetting. Lancer’s silently hoping for the ‘very annoying’ option.

Daniel’s hand moves down to rub his neck, making Lancer feel more worried; hair fiddling plus neck rubbing plus Daniel was extremely ominous. Daniel continues speaking, “-see the thing is, right, it’s, ah- well there is problem, and the problem does involve the shield”.

Lancer is going to start sweating at this point, “Chicken Soup For The Soul, just tell me, Daniel. You’re going to give me a heart attack with all this beating around the bush. That is terrifying from you”. The last time Daniel had skirted around an issue and problem like this was when a, swear on his Anne Rice collection, full blown ghost invasion happened.

Daniel’s laugh is awkward and nervous, once again an ominous sign, how bad was this going to be? “Okay that’s fair, ha”, rubbing his neck some more before halting his steps and eyeing Lancer as he too stops, “look, it’s not the portal, Lance, it’s, uh, it’s you”.

Lancer blinks in a way he knows is a bit owlish, “I’m not sure I follow?”, how was it himself? He’s fairly certain he hadn’t had any recent run ins with ghosts or general ectoplasm? And thanks to his insomnia he knows there was no ghosts being thrown through his bedroom walls without his awareness. So his ecto-contamination shouldn’t be noticeably any worse than it was on Friday?

Daniel makes a range of faces, confusion, sadness, worry, amusement, and absolute bafflement, “have you just, not looked in a mirror today? Have, Lance man, how have you not noticed? I-what”, turning away and almost wheeze laughing at the air, “what am I supposed to do with this?”.

Oh maybe near death experiences could have a more ghostly side effect in an ecto-contaminated town perhaps? And maybe he definitely should have thought about using some make-up, he must be bruised then. He puts a hand to his chest and sighs, “is my face just bruised up? I did get into a bit of an-”, and cuts himself off due to a bit of spastic full body twitch. It’s… he’s never felt anything like that before and he absolutely does not want to actually talk about the accident. Maybe he did have some shock? More trauma than he expected? Frowning, now he’s worrying himself.

Daniel looks back to him and winces, not in a confused or worried way but rather in a knowing way, “yeah um, don’t try talking about it, I don’t need to know the how. That’d be rude of me”, and sighs, looking up at the sky. Lancer is now more worried because Daniel did not care about ‘being rude’, Catcher In The Rye, the man made a point to be rude sometimes. Daniel doesn’t give him a chance to interrupt, “okay, so, you do not have bruising, yay?”, Daniel looks awkward even if he’s still looking up at the sky, “it’s more that, well, you’re, you know or not I suppose, glowing”.

What.

Lancer blinks harshly, shaking himself off a little from that spasm earlier before responding, “I’m… glowing?”. Lifting a hand and inspecting it, his hand looked normal to him?

Daniel laughs at the action and Lancers confusion almost fondly, then shaking his head and pulling out his phone, holding the turned off screen up to Lancer’s face.

In his reflection Lancer… is, in fact, glowing.

He’s actually glowing.

His eyes are a light baby blue.

Glowing baby blue.

…

Is… is that why the cabbie was staring?

…

…

What.

Daniel pockets his phone, grabs Lancer by the arm, and basically drags Lancer over to a bench to sit down. Lancer’s a little too confused and concerned to do anything, the reminder of Daniel’s odd strength is a bit of a distraction at least.

What does this mean?

Why is he glowing of all things?

How is he glowing?

…

He feels fine.

He does feel fine right?

His clothes fit him like normal.

The ground under his feet feels the same… or maybe does? Is he… lighter perhaps?

…

Oh.

Oh.

He’s… not breathing is he?

He’s not breathing.

He’s. Not. Breathing.

He is not breathing and Daniel’s just… sitting next to him… waiting?

Waiting… for him? To figure that out?

To figure out that he’s not breathing? That something is very wrong?

Why isn’t he-?

The accident.

The car crash.

Him getting thrown through a windshield.

Fahrenheit 451, he didn’t feel the windshield shatter because it didn’t.

The windshield didn’t pop out or shatter, but he still went through it.

He…

He died.

He died, didn’t he?

Death.

…

He only realizes absently that he’s shaking, that’s… understandable. He… Swallowing and moving to rest his elbows on his knees, folding his hands over his mouth and chin, “I’m… dead?”.

Daniel nods, Lancer doesn’t see it but he knows the man nodded anyways, “yeah. Yeah you are”.

The confirmation is a bit awful, actually. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”, and actually looks at Daniel.

Daniel shrugs, eyeing Lancer some back, “I guess that depends on what you’re gonna do about it? You’re here, not in the gz. You remember yourself, you life, teaching, all that”, Daniel gestures out to the town loosely, “and Amity does have enough free floating ecto to support the standard ghost”. Lancer swallows while Daniel gestures at him, “you’re human passing”, smiling in a way that’s definitely supposed to be reassuring, “technically, no one has to know, or no one else has to at least. De-glow spray is a real thing FentonWorks makes and it does actually work as intended. And you’re old enough you can just start wearing glasses all the time without people really questioning it; just with ecto-lenses in them”.

Lancer blinks, he- does he want that? He wants to teach, of course, teaching the young to appreciate the written world has always been his passion. “I… don’t know”.

Daniel nods like he expected that response, “well, you don’t have to make a choice really. Not immediately anyways. You could just pretend you’re not, you know, and just push the existential crisis off till later. I can easily get you de-glow and glasses before school actually starts. Maybe say I did something stupid again and blew up a few more microscopes, so I’m your assistant for the next while as punishment”.

Lancer’s not so mild freak out is being steamroll somewhat by the reminder that Daniel was disturbingly good at and quick on his feet about making excuses and spinning stories into believable lies. It’s a… skill, just a concerning one to have. “That’s- alright. Okay”.

Daniel nods readily, “well if you want my opinion, moving to the gz is a fucking stupid idea. You know that ghost are not inherently dangerous, or violent, or bad; like my folks claim. So I don’t need to tell you that me playing assistant is not me making sure you behave”, rolling a wrist, “more… actual assistance I guess. Guidance. Advice”, shrugging, “weird that that’s for another teacher instead of the kids this time, but eh”.

… Lancer stares at him a little, this was… way too normal of a reaction. Yes Lancer himself wasn’t having a… complete melt down, but that was supposed to be… normal… for ghosts. Ghosts liked being ghosts.

Shakespeare’s grave he’s a ghost now.

…

Which is, possibly, alright. Okay. A ‘he’ll get used to it’ situation rather than a genuine soul crushing tragedy.

He definitely can’t be leaving Amity to retire now though…

That was unfortunate.

…

Shaking his head, back to the point, Daniel was being too calm about this. Way too calm. Yes the man was familiar with this… this subject but still. “Daniel, you’re, awfully calm about this. All of it”. With helping. With having advice at the drop of a hat. With his favourite teacher being… dead.

Has this…

Has this happened before?

Daniel’s face actually manages to pale a little, giving Lancer an answer to a question he didn’t have to ask. This has happened before.

To who?

How’d they handle it?

Were they handling it at all? Or just ignoring it?

If literally anyone dies in Amity do they simply… become a ghost instantly?

Daniel sighs, shoulders straightening some. Lancer has a feeling he’s going to find out something that he’d rather not. He wants to know if this has happened to anyone else, but he doesn’t really want to know who. Daniel’s voice is calm, even, neutral. Speaking as he’s looking out at the town, “I suppose you’ll find out one way or another, ghosts are gossips”, Daniel eyes him, blue becoming green, “I’m not ecto-contaminated”.

Oh.

…

Daniel was… dead? That’s…

There’s no other world for it other than awful. Even if he doesn’t even have to ask if the man’s okay with it, Lancer knows he’d have to be with how he talks about ghosts and death, but that doesn’t make it less awful. Lancer stares at those green eyes for a beat before looking to the ground, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly, “how long?”. Even if it was okay to ask how he wouldn’t want to and not just because it would be unpleasant to know, it also feels… wrong somehow.

That’s probably a ghost feeling, isn’t it?

Daniel’s voice remains even, the question seemingly not bothering him, “my how and when is easy to figure out, so I mind being asked… less. Still mind it but I’m not going to assault someone over it. My, accident, was the talk of the whole school after all”.

Lancer grimaces, right, The Accident, with a capital A, if he wasn’t a bit… out of it then he would have put that together himself. “Apologies, you’re right, that… should have been obvious”.

Daniel shrugs, “that’s fine, you’re not exactly okay right now and just had some seriously fucking mind blowing news dropped on you”, then, of all things, he laughs, “though if you had just used a damn mirror this conversation would have happened a lot earlier”.

Lancer can respect the attempt to lighten the mood, even if it feels a little… insulting. “And I suppose I wouldn’t have confused the cabbie”.

“A cabbie actually drove you here? What the Zone is wrong with that cabbie?”, and barks out a laugh, “this town is crazy. Granted that’s kinda my fault but oh well”.

Lancer gave up trying to convince the man that it really wasn’t a long time ago, and looking Daniel over… he had milked that ‘ecto-contamination’ lie for all it was worth. Because, now that Lancer knew that was a lie, Daniel being… a ghost was obvious, wasn’t it? The pointed ears hidden barely by wild hair that’s a little too black. The fangs that were practically shown off when he laughed or smiled; which he did a lot. How pale his skin was, nearly seeming translucent under the right light. The sharp pointed nails that have caused an unfortunate amount of damages; his beaker dropping problem made a lot more sense now as well. Quoting Flannery O’Conner at the teen, “It does not take much to make us realize what fools we are, but the little it takes is long in coming”.

Daniel grins at him, “you and your book related quotes, man”.

Wait, was Lancer going to start dropping things to?

Shaking his head and taking a breath… or pretending to he supposes. He should try and figure all this out, he’s not sure he could actually handle it if he started… floating suddenly.

Being told he is and looks like a ghost is one thing. Suddenly floating or shooting out ecto-beams was another matter entirely, one he’s positive will give him a complete break down.

… He could see how this would be easier to deal with as a teen. Teens were adaptable, might find some aspects cool; Amity teens adjusted to ghosts far quicker than the adults after all.

Daniel’s starting to look a little concerned again, so Lancer pipes up, “am I going to have your beaker dropping problem?”.

Daniel scrunches up his entire face, “you will never let me live that down, will you”, grumbling incoherently to himself before addressing Lancer again, “no. Probably not”, squinting, “you feel like a normal ghost, so the abilities ghosts have shouldn’t act up out of your control on you”, running his neck, “I mean sure, you’re definitely going to doing things without noticing. That’s unavoidable. Things just come too naturally to ghost, you know?”, shrugs, “but, for me, my accident was aggressively unique and resulted in me very much so not being a normal ghost”, pouting a little, “hence all the poor poor beakers that no one will let me forget about”, pouting more, “and all the problems keeping my pants up, and most of the burnt homework, and my little bathroom problem-”

“This is why you go to the bathroom constantly?”. One of his biggest mysteries, solved. Lancer actually would rather not have that one solved, if being dead was the why.

Daniel rubs his neck while standing up, “yeah? Surprise I guess? You really don’t have worry about a similar issue though”, shrugging, “and I guess there’s some benefits, part of the reason all the ghost attacks don’t cause more damages, or Ancients forbid, deaths, is because I’m officially classified as an endangered species. Meaning genuinely endangering my existence is a crime”.

Lancer sighs into his hands before pushing himself to stand up as well, definitely noticing how much easier doing that was now. No knees aching, to spine cracking… no heavy drag from gravity. He does not like that he has to make a point to reassure himself that he is not floating. Eyeing Daniel , “that’s, a little concerning, Daniel, but I suppose I should be happy about you having specific protections”.

Daniel rolls his eyes, “yeah yeah yeah, doesn’t stop them from trying to ‘socialize’ with me by picking fights”, pointing at Lancer, “which, word to the wise, if some ghost tries to pick a fight just tell them no. Do not fight them, they take that as an invitation to keep doing it. No hitting them with fire extinguishers, or chairs, or tires, or baking trays, or that one time you somehow hit Skulker with The Box Ghost. At least off of school grounds anyways”.

Lancer frowns, “why is it okay on school grounds?”.

Daniel gestures for Lancer to follow him, resulting in them walking in the direction of the shields control panel, Daniel probably had a way to deal with it considering everything. Daniel talking as they go, “well you’re the vice principle, and as far as I’m aware the principle is not a ghost. Meaning you’re the senior one here, so here’s your territory. You’ll worry all the ghosts if you don’t smash Technus’s ass with a candle jar or something, when he inevitably starts crawling out of the speakers for world domination again. And then they’ll start babying you and you don’t want that, it is very annoying”.

Lancer feels a little confused, but well ghost behaviour often didn’t make sense… which was unfortunately ominous now. He does not want to lose the ability to relate to the staff and students… but… there’s nothing he can actually do about that.

Wait, if he remembers correctly, which he usually did remember his conversations with Daniel well since it encourage the boy-now-man so much, then ghosts only really ‘baby’, well, child ghosts. “Am I a child now”. What?

Daniel stops walking, bending over and puttimg his hands on his knees, wheeze laughing, “oh man! Ha! Yeah, yeah Lance you are”, standing up straight and snickering a little, “since you are, or were really, an adult before you won’t be a child ghost for long, so don’t beat yourself up about it too much”. Daniel is very clearly mocking him, Lancer’s willing to let it slide like usual.

At least once they get to the control panel all Daniel has to do to short it out long enough for both of them to get through, by shoving his hand intangibly through it. The man does it like it’s nothing, like it’s normal and not tied to an… untimely death. Which is oddly comforting, though Lancer seriously doubts he’ll ever be that okay with any part of his body going through something.

Daniel seems to agree with Lancer’s thoughts, “I guess I’ll be showing up at ass-o-clock all the time now, to let you in and everything”, shrugging, “eh sleeps for the weak and the living”.

Right.

The insomnia… which was not actually insomnia. He just… doesn’t need sleep anymore. That was going to take some time to get used to, but at least he’d have more time for grading and paperwork. Which might be quite nice actually. “You don’t mind?”.

Danny shakes his head as Lancer unlocks the school, “naw. Intangibility is stupidly unsettling in the beginning, not gonna expect anyone who actually remembers being alive to just up and start using it willy nilly. Plus you don’t know what wires to intangibly disconnect without even looking at, unlike me”.

Lancer gives him a bit of a glare for the blatant bragging, even if he does agree that he does not want to be using that ability himself, ever maybe.

Once they get to Daniel’s staff locker, which Lancer is guessing has stuff to help him not obviously be… a ghost, the man shoves his hand through the door instead of opening it; and pulls out a can, a box of lozenges labeled ‘echo soothers’, and, yes, some glasses. Daniel offering them over, “the de-glow works just like bug spray, smells like cotton candy for some reason though. And glasses are glasses, I don’t need to explain that. The cough drop looking mother fuckers will get rid of that whole echoing voice issue, even if yours is barely noticeable at all”.

Lancer eyes the items a bit before taking them, “I guess it makes sense you’d have this on school grounds”.

Daniel blinks before smacking his forehead, “oh no, I don’t have to use this stuff normally, it’s more in case my typical bad luck strikes and I need it suddenly”, rubbing his neck, “one of my unique species abilities is the ability to look human via shapeshifting. I’d need a lot more than just that to look human passing otherwise”, gesturing to his ears with his pointed nails and grinning enough to show fang, “obviously it’s not perfect but eh. At least my skins not teal this way, that would be a pain”.

Lancer’s a bit jealous honestly, however strange or not using a ghost ability like that would be he’d still be using that one. Lancer sprays the can on his hand a little experimentally, oh okay he hadn’t realized his skin was tingling until it stopped tingling. Odd. Well… at least the tingle wasn’t noticeable enough to wind up being distracting.

Daniel eyes Lancer’s hand and nods with a smile, “it’s working”, looking to Lancer’s face, “the tingle that you absolutely hadn’t noticed earlier gone now?”.

Daniel was so used to this that Lancer’s honestly a bit in awe. His former student was effectively becoming his teacher now. Strange but something of a nice comfort actually. Lancer nods and at Daniel’s ‘well go on’ gesture sprays himself entirely and puts on the glasses.

Daniel nods more so to himself, “yup, works. Figured. Congrats on being human-passing”, and gives Lancer a silly little thumbs up.

Lancer nods back, he would definitely be upset if he had to skip teaching because of this. So maybe Daniel’s suggestion to just go about his, well, ‘life’ as it were, as if nothings really changed was what he actually should do. Though, “my appearance is still going to change though, correct? Over time?”.

Daniel grins wide and points at his teeth, “oh definitely, I’d say sorry but that won’t change shit. All adults have fangs and claws; most have the ear points too. You might get lucky and that’ll be it and it’ll all be small, or your skin could change colours or you could develop something unique to you. Like Ember and The Lunch Lady have their fire hair, and Technus doesn’t have legs at all-”.

That would be extremely unfortunate. Lancer’s not sure he could even deal with that, part of his body being on fire or not having legs or growing another limb perhaps.

Daniel puts his hands together and gestures with them, “-but I highly doubt that, unique looks are usually tied to, well, the how of death. Like, my upper left side, arm included, is more electricity than physical matter. The permanent bed head’s also a unique trait, not just me being lazy”.

“Do you at least still brush it”. Lancer’s a little… disturbed by part of his former students body being electricity…

Daniel rolls his eyes before flopping down on the lounge room couch, “of course not, why the fuck would I do that? It wouldn’t do me anything”.

“Language”.

That just makes Daniel smirk, “glad to hear you’re doing better”, blinking and going a little wide-eyed before digging into his pockets, “oh! Right!”, pulling out two pods of death wish coffee, “I brought coffee, want one?”, and gets back up to turn on the coffee machine.

Lancer sighs, “regardless of the fact that the school, and principal, is too cheap to supply us with free coffee pods, no. I know you and I know that is far too caffeinated”.

Daniel laughs as the old machine sputters to life, “what’s the worst that’s gonna do? Kill us?”.

Oh F.Scott Fitzgerald, the morbid jokes make an unfortunate amount of sense now. Lancer also is slightly disturbed that Daniel actually has a point with that comment/joke.

Daniel waves Lancer off without looking at him, “besides, ghosts are made out of and need energy, caffeine is energy. There’s no such thing as too much. Ancients, the more the better really”.

Again, Lancer doesn’t like that Daniel has a very good point. “I think I’ll still have to decline, Daniel”.

“Eh, your loss”. The man taking a sip of the extremely hot liquid that closer resembles molasses than coffee, “delicious”, turning to Lancer, “so, I’m assume we’re are actually going with the ‘I’m your assistant as punishment’ thing? Because frankly if you do start doing something explicitly ghostly I’ll probably notice before you will. And since I am very firmly stronger than you and you are baby, I can easily just exert my own pressure enough on you to make your body cut it out”.

Lancer’s… not too sure how to feel about that statement. Part of him seems to actively dislike the entire notion, but it’s… better than him suddenly floating in class. Gravity nullification was the most basic feature of ectoplasm and thusly ghosts, so there’s no way he can’t do that… as unpleasant as that thought was. “And you can… do that easily?”. Okay, yes, that is indeed disturbing.

Daniel’s chuckle is mean. Intentionally mean, “one thing about my species is we’re abnormally powerful and don’t have to expend our ecto on sustaining our form, so yes. Yes I can”.

Considering the fact that part of why ghosts were very specifically Amity’s problem was because ghosts couldn’t be in the living world outside of Amity for too long, as they would run out of ecto-energy to maintain their form. If Daniel’s… species didn’t have that problem then that would make them incredibly dangerous. “It’s… probably for the best you’re rare, then”.

“No shit. Oh and since you’ll find out via gossip any way, and since he really can’t give me shit these days, the mayor? Yeah dead as a doornail too”.

Lancer sighs into his hand, “Wuthering Heights, that… that explains a lot actually”. Lancer always thought the mayor looked and acted rather strange, and not in a positive way. Also explained why such a rich man became the mayor of a random small town… and how.

“I know right? He’s the same as me though, so don’t go comparing yourself to him at all. Also he is stronger than you so don’t be stupid please”, glancing to the clock, “well it looks like everyone else is probably gonna be here soon”.

Lancer glancing to the clock too, “right. How long does the, de-glow, last?”. The mayor being stronger than him is needlessly unsettling, more than it should be he thinks? Or not?

…

Right. Ghosts normally get unsettled by stronger… ones.

Especially because Mayor Masters is definitely the type to causally beat a teacher up…

… Alright okay, he’s going to be avoiding the mayor to the best of his capabilities in the future. He already disliked the man so he’s not bothered by staying away from him.

“Twelve fucking hours, great longevity, I know. So what we doing first? Because I absolutely do not have your schedule memorised”, downing some of his ‘drink’ and pointing at Lancer, “don’t even try to claim that surprises you”, putting the hand down onto his hip, “also, if Mayor Bastard decides to bother you, just tell me and I’ll tell him to fuck off. Regardless of us being antagonistic and constantly threatening and messing with each other, we are actually vaguely friends. Frienemies, with a mild familial relationship perhaps. He’ll listen, or I’ll just make him if he doesn’t”.

Lancer sighs at the man, “I’d tell you not to be so hostile to the mayor, like I always do, and that you’re encouraging his behaviour in return. But if you’re both, ghosts, then I suppose it’s only natural”. Those two tended to behave like it was physically impossible for them to be genuinely nice or kind to each other. Every word, look, or action was either snide, insulting, or down right murderous; also strangely fond most of the time. He often chose not to question it, outside of finding it concerning that he never heard that same undertone of fondness towards Daniel’s own parents. “And I’ll be substituting for Joshep’s chemistry class first, then I’ve got simple desk work, then I suppose I’ll be ‘sitting in’ on your ecto-ology class, then lunch of course. Everything after that is just more office paper work till my English class”.

Danny nods and follows after Lancer as they leave the lounge, “cool, cool. I will not remember any of that”.

Lancer sighs, unsurprised but still, turning and waving at Penelope as she comes in through the doors, “morning, Penelope”.

She nods respectfully, “morning, William, Danny”.

Daniel flips her off.

Very professional.

At least he knows she won’t complain but Lancer still glares at Danny, “language”.

Daniel pouts at him, “boo. Let me have my fun”.

Though in truth he’s happy Penelope doesn’t have any… abnormal reactions to him. This whole situation, him being a ghost, was going to be rather nerve wracking for a while. Making him fret and worry over others possibly noticing he’s changed, or over his body doing things he’d rather it not do at all, or over himself changing especially without him realizing it, or even over ghosts treating him different.

“Don’t worry too much about people noticing now, you’d be surprised how little people notice. Heck, I walk through trash cans in public and telekinetically untie people’s shoes, no one notices shit”.

Lancer jerks, startled, “you’re still going to manage to startle me all the time, aren’t you?”. Weren’t ghosts supposed to be able to pick up on each other and tell when others were going to do things? “Also please refrain from doing that stuff, at least on school property”. Though yes, he was worrying about that and yes, he’s aware that people can be rather oblivious. Even he himself, apparently; since he never noticed Daniel’s apparent death.

Daniel laughs, “no. It makes the kids laugh and makes the bullies think they’re all cursed, as they should feel they are”, shrugging as they get to Joshep’s classroom, “and yes, I will keep startling you. I am actively more unnerving and startling to ghosts, since I can hide my ecto-signature as easily as I can disguise myself. Which makes me all that more of a threat, since ghosts instinctively rely on that sense so a spooky that can sidestep it is inherently unsettling”.

Lancer actively frowns at that as he rearranges Joshep’s desk enough to be personally usable, that man never kept things tidy enough. Joshep was better than Daniel though, regardless of how little that actually meant. Daniel’s classroom was a bio-ecto-hazard.

Which might not be a problem for Lancer now… meaning he can forcibly clean the man’s space without Daniel having a reasonable excuse as to why Lancer could not do so due to all the excessive ecto-contamination.

A little positive, he supposes.

Watching as Daniel flops down lazily in the designated assistants chair, yawning tiredly. The yawn doesn’t seem faked, leaving Lancer wondering just how good at faking human Daniel was. Raising an eyebrow, “are you actually tired or keeping up an act?”. Lancer certainly didn’t feel tired, even if he should… if he wasn’t…dead.

Daniel rubs his neck awkwardly, “ah yeah, it’s another species thing. I get energy from sleep, so I still need it. Same with food and water”.

Lancer’s brow furrows, it was almost like he was actually still human, or rather still an alive human. That entire notion fills him with a mix of both jealousy and pity. That would be terribly confusing but… still being alive would be…

Hmm.

Alright, it seems that this is the whole ‘okay with being a ghost’ feeling. Strange. He’s not sure if it’s a good or bad… feeling.

Susan sticking her head in stops him from questioning Daniel further, “there you are, I only have thirty-two spare pencils instead of thirty-six”, her noticing Daniel and smiling in that insulting way she often does, “oh someone’s on assistant duty again, so how about you get me some pencils?”.

It takes more effort than normal not to frown or sigh at the woman. Right, ghosts responded emotionally more so than humans did. Another adjustment he’ll have to deal with.

Daniel rolls his eyes, “oh eat my socks, Susan”, he does get up anyways though, eyeing Lancer who waves him off; surely Daniel can grab pencils before any students began to show up.

So Daniel leaves, downing the rest of his ‘coffee’ in one go and tossing the cup,

…

Now he’s alone with his own thoughts for the first time since finding out that he died yesterday.

…

It’s a good thing he didn’t stop to actually talk to that truck driver, the poor old man would have had an actual heart attack. As it is the driver would have to live with killing someone.

…

Did-

Did he leave a… body behind?

Interview With A Vampire, he’s going to have to check for that, isn’t he?

He really does not want to do that, or see that.

What if… that needs to be buried? A… funeral? Grave?

Leaning his head down and massaging his temples, this is all a little much. He can’t even tell if he actually does or doesn’t want those things. The… funeral and grave. Laid to rest.

For Shakespeare’s shake he was still here! And all of… that would eliminate any possibility of keeping this to mostly himself.

What did Daniel do? That’s certainly unkind to ask.

But the thought of not having that, of the idea of his… body being left out in some compacted heap, is deeply disturbing. He’s sure Phantom has gone on record saying something about ghosts and burials, of being respected, of not being… physically disturbed. So this disturbed feeling is likely natural, and understandable he supposes.

He’d be disturbed even without this odd instinct towards disturbia.

…

Lesia comes in before Daniel gets back, “oh, subbing for Mr. CampBell, Mr. Lancer?”, and sits in her assigned seat.

He makes a point to look up and smile at her, regardless of his current unsettlement, “indeed, Ms. Lute, he had an, unfortunate, interact with a sentient ghost plant”.

She cringes, whispering, “get wrecked, I guess”, before actually responding in proper to Lancer, “sorry to hear that”.

Lancer’s hearing has definitely improved, he can’t honestly see a negative to that. “And I’m sure he’d appreciate your sympathies”.

Thankfully Daniel comes back in, looking at Lesia and pouting, “oh how dare you get here before I got back, my luck belong’s in P̸͇̓a̶͉̕r̴̹̐i̴͚̅a̷̭̽h̸̙͘’̴͚̏s̵̼͛ ̷͈̉a̸̜̒s̵̩̚s̷̥̔”.

While Lancer’s a little stunned by being able to understand that from the inside? of himself? Lesia purses her lips together and is clearly trying not to laugh, “in trouble again”.

Daniel shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he meanders over to the assistants chair, “eh, you set one too many things on fire, and those things just happen to be thousand dollar microscopes, and suddenly everyone’s out to beat the s̴͚̿h̸̗̾i̶̹̇t̵̖͗ outta you”.

Lancer makes a point to sigh tiredly at the man, who winks smugly back. But regardless Lancer has to push his worries and crises to the back as more students begin filing in, school has begun.

At lunch Daniel had made a point to tell Lancer, in ghost speak -which was still rather strange to understand so easily now. Instantaneous language retention was a wonder-, that Daniel could apparently duplicate -which solved a few odd stories he’s heard- and had one such duplicate go and check the… morgue and around town for any signs of.. of Lancer’s remains.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Lancer’s not sure if that was… good or bad. If he was relieved or not.

Daniel’s theory, which was slightly disturbing but probably for the best to be true, was that the ecto-contamination in him consumed or broke down his… body in an instant so as to have the needed energy to instantly create his ‘new’ ghostly one.

On one hand this meant he didn’t need to fret about someone finding or touch his body. On the other hand any sort of funereal or burial could never happen, whether it was wanted or not; it somewhat rather was, if he was being honest with himself.

Daniel’s response had been to just consider his body having been effectively buried within the ether of the Zone, ‘like mine!’ he’d said, with cheer.

Apparently the man’s young body had been completely disintegrated in his own ‘accident’. Which was extremely disturbing and saddening.

Daniel said not to let himself be bothered by that, as if that would make it so that Lancer wouldn’t mourn the fact.

Lancer hadn’t even had time to mourn himself.

Should he… make a shrine perhaps? Or just have his favourite diner regardless of not ‘needing’ it now? Should it be a big deal or just causal?

He really didn’t know.

Before Lancer had gone home for the day Daniel had made sure he knew he could call whenever, and while Daniel might sleep it was a lot less and he didn’t mind interruptions.

Lancer… did somewhat want to take him up on the offer. To call and ask how he was actually supposed to deal with this. Beyond whether he wanted to ‘play human’ and keep his ‘life’ how it was, or not.

There was neither research to find nor books to read on the subject, on how ghosts mourned themselves and dealt with death, at least there were none that weren’t extremely biased and ecto-phobic.

How did Daniel put up with hearing this sort of cruelty from his parents all the time? He’d wondered that before he knew of Daniel’s ghost status and he only wonders about that more after.

At least the only report on ‘his accident’ he could find was about the ‘mysteriously vacant car’ and how it ‘being empty’ was ‘strange but welcome luck’.

That… made him want to cry, or be sick, a little bit.

No one noticed

No one noticed his death.

That was… awful. Sad. Painful.

But it was also rather the point, wasn’t it?

No one noticed Daniel’s either, not in any real way.

He wheezes breathlessly a little and massages the… strange spot of feeling in his chest.

…

Alright. Okay.

He should call Daniel.

Moving enough to pick up the phone, making sure not to knock over his tea.

Daniel responds instantly… he must have been waiting for a call. “Was wondering when you’d call. You good? Not too much existential horror?”.

Dr. Seuss, the understanding in that tone hurt and comforted more than he’d like. “I’m not sure, but I definitely need to talk about anything”.

Daniel laughs a little, but it’s not a happy thing in the slightest, “yeah I get that. Dying’s easy, but deaths a bit of a bitch. I saw the news report, by the way, and I know you looked for it even if you really shouldn’t have. Focusing on reactions or what happened is a really bad thing to do. People will let you down and you will spiral about the how and when and why. So don’t. Let the shit you enjoy distract you to your cores content, that’s kinda the whole point of being dead anyways. Obsessions and all that. Find all those things you love and the thing yourself screams and cries for, and do ‘em. Go from one to another and circle back again, keep the circling going and you’ll be cool; you won’t spiral. And there’s absolutely a difference between the two”.

“Have… you? Spiralled?”.

“… of course, I never had help or guidance. Another spook to turn to, until it was kinda too late. But hey, things got undone and made alright, so it is what it is. I’m alright, I’m good enough to keep on keeping on”.

“That’s, not as pacifying as I think you mean it to be”.

“Course not, you should know by now that there really isn’t any sugarcoating me and my everything. Life, and death, gave me a right shit hand. But this call ain’t really supposed to be about my dumbass, Lance”.

Lancer smiles ruefully a little at that, “well talking about you, my favourite problem ex-student, is as good as any distraction from everything, from no one really… noticing”.

Daniel laughs again, “you’re not wrong. But you should focus on yourself some, we’re egocentric things. And I’m not going to say something like ‘but I thought that’s what you wanted’ because I know that’s both true and painfully not. I’ve broken a lot of shit over that same train of thought, especially since Sam and Tuck… never really mourned any part of this. But if you want Jazz’s opinion? Write. Write shit down. Which with you being all book-loving might work out better. Make a poem or something. I tried the journaling thing once and wound up just taking a bite out of it and setting it on fire”.

That… wasn’t a horrible idea. “I’d say that’s concerning but I know that you have some trouble with your anger”.

“I’m well aware and doing precisely nothing about it…”.

They spend more than half an hour half-heartedly bickering about Daniel’s poor anger-management issues, neither have anything in the argument but it was still grounding.

And if maybe Lancer started floating a bit and didn’t notice, then maybe that’s okay. He… was less bothered than he’d thought he’d be when he realised what he was doing.

Daniel congratulated him in earnest and then word vomited -as the man would say- about the stars and that time he went to space.

It was good.

It was nice.

Daniel, like always, was too kind. Even the students saw that.

It made him sad but it made him better too.

Like being reminded how it feels to be warm by someone or something too cold to feel it at all.

Death ain’t no big deal in comparison.

End.

prompts:

Above all else, Danny became a high school teacher to help students: he wants to help the victims of bullying, the near-dropouts, the kids who need to use school as an escape from home. He sees himself in all of them, and tries to be the adult he needed at their age. He also became a teacher because, as it turns out, teachers have a WAY easier time getting away with sudden bathroom breaks (which may or may not coincide with ghost attacks and subsequent Phantom sightings) than students do. "Ah yes, because going in circles and spiraling are very different directions." More of Danny's ghost side starts to show in his human form making it harder to hide the truth "What do you mean this isn't safe, I'm already dead" Becoming more ghostly Fangs On Sunday, Lancer was thrown through his windshield in a nasty car accident. Miraculously he walked away without a scratch. On Monday, he had a hard time getting through the school ghost shield on his way to class.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phandom #phicphight24 #danny #mr lancer #character death #angst #existental #advice #fan fic #phan phic #my writing #have a fic suck my dick #gothmoth #phantomphangphucker

[triforce-of-mischief]

Trustworthy

Summary: Warriors doesn't want to do this. For Legend, he has to. (Trust Fall, from Warriors pov.)

Warnings: Contains description of a needle/medical procedure, please take care of yourselves <3

Word count: 1500

AO3

Reblogs > Likes!

Warriors paced restlessly around the military camp, trying to process the battle that had only just ended. Most of his brothers hadn’t been prepared for the massive monster hordes of his own era, and Warriors himself was one of the few spared from the medical tents.

A shout came from one of the tents down the line, prompting a few nearby soldiers to drop what they were doing and run over. Warriors decided to investigate as well, following behind his more eager brethren. He could hear sounds of struggle coming from within, and braced himself before entering.

He recognized one of their head medics, drawing up a dose of some sort of drug into a needle-tipped syringe. They were scowling and a bit out of breath, though their hands were steady on the plunger.

“What’s going on?” Warriors asked.

Without even looking up, the medic said, “Just a stubborn patient. He rendered my partner unconscious so it would be helpful if you could attend to them while I handle him.”

“No problem,” Warriors said, taking a step further into the tent. “I’m happy to help-” He stopped in his tracks as he finally saw just who the patient was.

He identified that small frame instantly, those red and green tunics with nothing but boots beneath them, the blond hair sporting a streak of pink. The patient was Legend, visibly wounded and painfully scared. The teen’s ears were nearly pressed flat against his head, his eyes wide as he stared at Warriors like he didn’t believe that the man was there in front of him. Just as notable were the soldiers from earlier, physically restraining Legend as they looked almost bored to do so.

White-hot rage flared through Warriors but he gained enough control to say in his best Captain Voice, “Release him. Now.”

The soldiers blinked in confusion and one of them dared to argue. “B-but sir, he’s highly dangerous and violent.”

Warriors practically growled, “So am I. Hands. Off.”

That scared the soldiers good and proper, and they couldn’t run out of the tent fast enough. Legend collapsed from the sudden lack of cruel hands forcing him upright, and Warriors was kneeling in front of him in a heartbeat.

Warriors didn’t want to think about what the medics could have done to Legend, but the vet seemed to only be emotionally affected (actual injury notwithstanding). Still, Warriors had to know. “Oh Hylia, Lege… they didn’t do anything, did they?”

Legend shook his head, which lead into a full-body shudder. “Th-they said it would be better if I’m sedated while they heal me, and I agreed. But I didn’t know it- would involve-” His words were interrupted by a broken sob, and Warriors didn’t hesitate to initiate a gentle hug. The captain’s discomfort regarding touch was trivial in this moment.

Legend continued, mumbling desperately into Warriors’ tunic. “I’m sorry. I thought I was getting better but I’m not fine. It just came over me, I’m sorry… I wasn’t ready…”

Farore save him, Warriors’ heart was breaking for this kid. He held Legend close, murmuring soothing words. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here now. Let’s try what we’ve worked on, yeah?”

Thankfully, Legend remembered the breathing exercise that Warriors had taught him. The captain felt the teen adjust his breathing to a calculated rhythm and deemed it safe enough to shift his focus for a moment.

The medic was standing a bit too close for comfort, still holding the syringe full of what Warriors now guessed to be a sedative. First things first, that had to be out of sight. Warriors gestured at the syringe, whispering, “Put that away.”

The medic tried to protest. “But he still needs-”

“Just wait.” Warriors had a plan, and he needed the medic to be cooperative for it.

Not without some complaining, the medic tucked the syringe into a nearby drawer. Warriors nodded his approval and turned back to Legend.

“We’ve got a truce, see? You’re in charge now,” he told Legend, hoping to help him relax.

The vet clung a little closer, and Warriors let him stay like that for a few minutes before realizing that Legend was stalling.

“Lege?” he asked, receiving no response.

I don’t want to do this either, bud, but it might as well happen now.

Resolved to doing this the not-as-easy way, Warriors carefully grabbed Legend’s hands. Legend’s head hung low as Warriors stood, pulling the teen up with him. “Come with me,” Warriors encouraged.

Slow but steady, Legend shuffled over to the lone cot placed in the center of the tent. Warriors made sure to not let go of Legend for even a second, holding his hand which transitioned into another hug as Legend wiggled into place on the thin mattress.

Before Warriors could check in on Legend, the medic spoke up. “Are you ready yet?” they snapped, causing Legend to flinch.

“Hey, Legend, remember to keep breathing,” Warriors prompted, feeling Legend save himself from the threat of hyperventilation. The vet’s composure cracked the tiniest bit more, giving no warning before he was pressing his face into Warriors’ shoulder.

Warriors glanced at the medic, who had retrieved the syringe and was clearly ready to begin. “They’re going to come over now, okay?” the captain said.

Legend finally spoke, his tone defensive. “No. They’re not touching me.”

Warriors sighed, hoping that he wasn’t about to start an argument. “They have to, so they can treat you-”

“They’re not. Touching me,” Legend said, a little louder. “I don’t trust them to get close anymore.”

“Alright then,” Warriors responded. “Do you trust me?”

Legend faltered. “’Course I do, what-”

“Lege. Do you trust me.”

Was he really about to do this? Their trust was so fragile and this could ruin everything they had been working on. It wasn’t like Warriors had another choice, though, other than ignoring Legend and letting the medic do this themself.

Legend knew, without Warriors having to explain his plan. “Y-yeah. I do.”

Warriors allowed himself a smile that Legend couldn’t see, bitter and nervous but confident all the same. “Good. Stay here and keep your eyes closed. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Warriors slid down from the cot and walked over to the medic, talking in a hushed voice that Legend hopefully wouldn’t hear. “I’ll do it myself. Can you teach me how?”

The medic considered this uncharted protocol for a minute, then nodded and held out the syringe. They demonstrated the proper angle and technique before waving the captain back to the cot.

Warriors stood a few paces away, taking a deep breath to anchor himself, trying to not let his thoughts linger on what he was about to do. Legend was making himself appear so small, wrapped in a self-hug that did nothing to stop his constant shivering. His eyes were dutifully closed, but Warriors still held the syringe behind his back as he approached.

“Hey… I’m back,” Warriors said, sitting beside Legend again. He unclasped his scarf, admittedly a little clumsy with only one free hand. He settled the blue fabric over Legend’s shoulders, watching the teen slip his hands inside.

Silently, Warriors uncapped the needle. His voice threatened to tremble, but he managed to keep it even. “I’ll be fast. Just a few moments, then you can rest.”

He gently tugged on Legend’s sleeve, locating the position that the medic had described.

“Wars-” Legend started, practically choking on the word.

Goddess help him, Warriors needed to finish this before one or both of them lost their courage completely. He rubbed Legend’s arm, hoping that he could still comfort him. “You still trust me, right?”

He angled the needle over Legend’s arm, his thumb on the plunger. “Deep breath, bud.”

The vet’s tiny gasp would have to count.

“And let it out.”

He didn’t want to look, but forced himself to watch to ensure that the needle went in smoothly. The injection of the sedative felt like an eternity, but finally the syringe was empty and Warriors was able to pull the needle out. The syringe was tossed aside as though it burned, and Warriors gave Legend a relieved embrace. His scarf did most of the work, allowing Warriors to sit back and give Legend as much praise as he could think of. “Great job, bud, you did so well. You can relax now, I’ve got you.”

Legend’s face was still twisted up in fear and pain, and a final sob left him before he fell fully into unconsciousness. Warriors was tired as well, adrenaline and anger finally subsiding as he reluctantly stepped away so the medic could do their job. The captain heard a groan from the corner of the tent, suddenly remembering the medic who Legend had dispatched before Warriors had arrived. He went to monitor their recovery from what had apparently been a nasty punch, all the while sneaking frequent glances at Legend.

The veteran had put an incredible amount of trust in Warriors, and he really hoped that he had done enough. No matter what, Warriors was determined to make sure that Legend was never alone.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #linked universe warriors #lu warriors #linked universe legend #lu legend #fable writes #overcome

[minuy600]

The Arcade Games of 1980 #4: Pac-Man

Oh sh*t we're already here. The yellow circle with a mouth has arrived. Toru Iwatani & crew have been cookin' even before Cutie Q arrived, and what came out of it is merely a game that's still loved and recognised 43 years later. Can't say I disagree, i've been playing this one non stop for a couple weeks just so I would be good enough to write this review.

That doesn't mean I don't have my few little issues with it, but we'll get to that when we get to that. First up, let me begin by saying the characters in this game are genious. Blinky, Pinky, Inky, Clyde and of course Pac-Man himself are entirely original and have been created specifically for this title. Unless i'm mistaken, this is the first time video game actors were given distinct names. Pretty cool!

The ghosts all behave differently too. We got the fast Blinky, both Inky and Pinky try to place themselves in front of the gobbling pizza, and then there's Clyde who just kinda fucks around. I hate him, somehow he manages to kill me the most. All given hues of red, blue, pink and orange, and those look particularly nice. Namco sure knew how color worked.

Now, your aim is to empty out a maze of all it's dots, eating fruit and power pellets and yadda yadda you know this already. One of the game's biggest strengths and detractors is the slow but steady buildup in difficulty. No longer is there about 4 stages of increased speed before it peaks (Moon Cresta notwithstanding). This is a GRIND. 21 unique stages, some of them being breathers, most of them requiring increased skill to get to.

As for me? I got to stage 12 once, and saw the third and final cutscene that happens after stage 9 like what, 3 times? Oh yes. The cutscenes. Another thing majorly improved over Taito's games. Those were charming, these were little STORIES. The Pacster being chased by Blinky, before becoming comically huge and reversing the process. Then Blinky breaks himself open after moving past... a needle, maybe? Lastly, he patches himself up partially but then gets demoted to what looks like a predecessor to the worm design from Worms.

Back on track, yeah if you were planning on getting through this one, better get used to the patterns you can find online. The AI code can be deciphered and exploited so you'll always win. Unless you're me, cuz it didn't work on my end. Annoying when you're a completionist and wanna see everything. Which leads me to the biggest grievances of the game.

I love the gameplay loop and all, but the first few stages are slooooow. Having to tackle the first two stages repeatedly when you are a dedicated player is a no go nowadays. It thankfully speeds up after the first cutscene, the intensity by then feels good. The ghosts stop relenting and crawling back to their corners after a certain point, too. Would've preferred to get right into that phase, honestly.

What irks me even more is that you can still get totally messed up in those super early stages. If you don't know your patterns, hoh, you better say your prayers before starting another high score chase. And then there's the controls on top of that. Seems like it isn't well optimised for home play, there's too many goddamn times I lost lives thanks to a misread input or the game deciding I would be better off not taking a corner. It's a disappointment for sure, and now you understand why I can't give it a perfect score despite nailing everything else.

Still though, are you kidding me with this game? You're taking a genre that only had minor success via the 'greats' of Heiankyo Alien and Head On, and not only add to it, make it so replayable and expertly crafted that everyone with a flick of interest in video games knows exactly who this Puckman dude is and is always up for a round or 2 of it? Games will run it close in the distant future, but the high bar has been set. For this game is with only a single subjective flaw.

Peak.

The Verdict

Graphics (10): Perfect simplicity. The ghosts are distinct via their sharp coloring, Pac-Man is very recognisable himself obviously despite his simple design. Then there's more subtle things I enjoy. The thing I wanted to mention most are the details on the fruits. We've absolutely not seen real-life objects look this good before, and yes, I will forgive the melon not looking too much like it's real counterpart. Heck, even the flagship from Galaxian makes a cameo! Love the cutscenes, enjoy the attract screen, it's two big thumbs up all the way.

Sound (9): If you're reading this, chances are you're hearing the noises in your head as we speak. They never get old. ...Okay maybe the ghost chasing noise does when you're almost done with a stage and you've been playing for hours straight. Nothing about this game sounds like it came from a 43 year old board, rather, there's this overarching jolly vibe that Iwatani-san wanted on purpose to appeal to a wider demographic (women) who weren't in the mood for the giant list of shooting and sports. Wacka wacka wacka! Yadda yadda yadda! Humor! Humor! Humor! Etc.

Fun Factor (8): Apologies everyone, i've failed you. If the game didn't sometimes seemingly decide that this bunny being dead was hilarious, it would have been an easy 9. This game knows how to excite, entice and keep you coming back for more. Eating ghosts and, in later stages, fruit, is a dopamine hit like nothing else. Managing to outsmart a ghost is beyond satisfying. The relief of beating a stage beats that of anything that came before it since there's more obvious rewards from it, in a subtle fashion perhaps. Gah. It stinks I can't enjoy it to the fullest like so, so many people have done before. I can appreciate the hell out of it at least!

Longevity (10): This was a long debate in my head, but considering the level of repetition that almost all games (depending on opinion) had in this period, it's gonna get full marks from me still. 21 levels cannot be beat. 256 especially so, as some want to go the extra mile and see the one and only Pac-Man kill screen. I can only envy them and their arduous study of the patterns required to get there and remembering them for *hours* straight. Me? I'm happy with my couple weeks of hard labor, with the addiction factor so high that I refused to quit untill I broke another record on occasion. You CAN decide when to quit the hustle as there's obvious hard limits, too. Ideal for the healthy under us!

In Conclusion

#retro gaming #minuy600 #review #sona #arcade #1980 #namco #pac man #minuy's must haves

[simplepotatofarmer]

Genuine question, have you ever assisted an egg hatching? Like is it even okay to do that? I assume you would do that if it’s been past the expected hatching date, but when do you know if it needs assistance?

i have, both with quail and chickens!

there's debate in the chicken raising world on whether it's okay to help them hatch with the idea being that if a chick isn't strong enough to hatch, then it's not strong enough to live.

and there's some truth to that because sometimes a chicken ends up with issues but i don't really hold to that idea. i helped a quail chick with a club foot and he's doing really well, i get pictures from his new owner sometimes!

the way i look at it is, these are going to be my pets. i don't care about cross-beak or a chick that's much smaller because i'm willing to put in the effort to help the chick. so if you're going to assist with hatching, be prepared to maybe have to give that chicken extra help or to cull it humanely if need be. but i assist because i want to give the chick every chance possible.

however! you don't want to interfere unless absolutely needed because you can end up doing more harm than good. so here's my tips:

always mark your air cells right before putting them into lockdown. that way if a chick pips outside of the air cell, you know to give it some help! in that case, i'd just carefully widen the hole so it doesn't suffocate.

if a chick pips within the air cell, wait. some of them take a very long time to actually hatch. it's a lot of work! so wait until around 24 hours before doing anything. if you're really worried, keep an eye on the pip. you can typically see the chick breathing by the way the pip moves. if you see bubbles, definitely assist. that's something that happened to one of my chicks, mango.

don't assist all the way! your best bet is to moisten the membrane (i like to use coconut oil), carefully widen the pip hole with either tweezers or needle, then slowly break the shell in a circle, making sure the veins in the membrane are dried up, the way a chick would 'unzip' the egg. that gives the chick the air it needs and some help. put it back in the incubator and hopefully it'll push the rest of the way out on its own when it's ready! if at any point in 'unzipping' the egg, it begins to bleed, stop! i use flour or cornstarch to stop heavy bleeding but regardless, put the egg back and wait.

if you're worried about the membrane sticking to it/drying out or it hasn't come out on its own, you can go back and remove the top half of the shell fully. do not pull the chick out! moisten the membrane again. you need to be careful because if the yoke isn't fully absorbed or the veins aren't dried, the chick will likely die. if you have a paper cup or something small, you can set the chick with the bottom half of the egg into it with some paper towels so it can't fall out and the yoke can absorb. chances are at that point, it'll let you know when it's ready to move.

anyway!

it's definitely not a super easy process to do but it's not impossible and the three chicks i've assisted in the past all ended up being super healthy, coconut's club foot notwithstanding! there's a lot of guides online that give more detail.

whether or not you assist is completely up to you and a lot of people have a lot of opinions and i can't say either side is wrong or right, it's just up to you!

one thing i'll remind people of is, sometimes hatching takes a lot longer than we think it will so definitely don't let panic make you assist with a chick that might be just fine and taking its time.

eta: if there's no pip at all over two days from hatch day, take the egg out and candle it before deciding what to do! then start with a small 'safety hole' so it doesn't suffocate.

#loyal answers things #chicken posting

[nephriteknight]

funny thing about tma is that for the most part it didn’t really hit my personal fears very often. lost john’s cave, roots, and centre of attention notwithstanding, very few statements were like “oh yeah that’s for me”.

but needles? oh man y’all i am in fact scared of needles. I still have to calm myself down to get shots and i’m twenty years old. they got me there ngl.

#really coming through for me there #tmagp #tmagp needles

[novasillies]

tattooed stiles (debilitating fear of needles notwithstanding) is my niche

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #his hands are too nice to go undecorated #i need him

[apieters]

Edward Waverley, the Friend of the Sons of Ivor

'Callum,' said the Chief, 'call Shemus an Snachad' (James of the Needle). This was the hereditary tailor of Vich lan Vohr. 'Shemus, Mr. Waverley is to wear the cath dath (battle colour, or tartan); his trews must be ready in four hours. You know the measure of a well-made man—two double nails to the small of the leg—'

'Eleven from haunch to heel, seven round the waist. I give your honour leave to hang Shemus, if there's a pair of sheers in the Highlands that has a baulder sneck than her's ain at the cumadh an truais' (shape of the trews).

'Get a plaid of Mac-Ivor tartan and sash,' continued the Chieftain, 'and a blue bonnet of the Prince's pattern, at Mr. Mouat's in the Crames. My short green coat, with silver lace and silver buttons, will fit him exactly, and I have never worn it. Tell Ensign Maccombich to pick out a handsome target from among mine. The Prince has given Mr. Waverley broadsword and pistols, I will furnish him with a dirk and purse; add but a pair of low- heeled shoes, and then, my dear Edward (turning to him), you will be a complete son of Ivor.'

…

Our hero having now fairly assumed the 'garb of old Gaul,' well calculated as it was to give an appearance of strength to a figure which, though tall and well-made, was rather elegant than robust, I hope my fair readers will excuse him if he looked at himself in the mirror more than once, and could not help acknowledging that the reflection seemed that of a very handsome young fellow. In fact, there was no disguising it. His light-brown hair—for he wore no periwig, notwithstanding the universal fashion of the time—became the bonnet which surmounted it. His person promised firmness and agility, to which the ample folds of the tartan added an air of dignity. His blue eye seemed of that kind,

Which melted in love, and which kindled in war;

and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of want of habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to his features, without injuring their grace or intelligence.

'He's a pratty man, a very pratty man,' said Evan Dhu (now Ensign Maccombich) to Fergus's buxom landlady.

'He's vera weel,' said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething sae weel-far'd as your colonel, ensign.'

-Sir Walter Scott, Waverley, or ‘Tis Sixty Years Since

I’ve wanted to do a series of portraits, for a long time, where I bring to life characters from novels I like based on their descriptions in the books, and now I’ve done my first one—Edward Waverley, the main character of Sir Walter Scott’s first novel, Waverley, an English gentleman who sided with Bonnie Prince Charlie in the Jacobite Uprising of 1745. In the course of his adventures, he befriends Fergus MacIvor, the chief of the Clan MacIvor, and gets adopted into the clan. For the rest of his life and beyond, he was known amongst the Highlanders as the “Friend of the Sons of Ivor.”

Here’s an alternate version without the plaid, so the rest of his outfit can be seen:

#sketch #colored sketch #cartoon #cartoon characters #fanart #sir walter scott #waverley #edward waverley #character art #Novel Portraits #Scottish highlands #trews #Broadsword #tartan #clan macivor #The friend of the sons of Ivor

[thelonesomequeen]

Thank you for considering my 'ask.' (I'm the anon with the long-winded 'A' list/'B' list where does CE fit in). I've enjoyed the discussion. I should make it clear that I don't look down upon actors/actresses who aren't award winners or award seekers or into the (not sure of the appropriate term here--arty, perhaps?) roles that tend to garner those types of adulation. Being happy at what one does is a pretty high bar as it is and making a living at it even better. If that is what Chris Evans' metric is as he is winnowing through options, then I have no issues at all. Plus, as I'd mentioned, plenty of actors put people in cinema seats and have that box office pull and that is another way one might get termed an 'A' lister. Furthermore, like you said, being able to thread that needle with both is quite an accomplishment.

Like was talked about, I'd enjoy watching him in more ensemble pieces. They're one of my favorite types of film within film, whether drama or more light-hearted affairs. He can play a comedic villain quite capably w/o too much overkill (although in the duo piece TGM with RG, that was where I kinda scrunched up my face a little.) That and I don't like quite that many explosions if they're not advancing the plot. I'm looking forward to what he's got in the pipeline, strike and promotional difficulties notwithstanding. I'm a fan, just not quite as into the whole personal side that some of the more into it people are. I appreciate you humoring me with the more film and acting related side of things. That is where my interest with the industry focuses; although the strange machinations of PR can be fascinating as well, from a "how in the heck did they pull that off", perspective. I don't dismiss folks that are into the rest of it, but I check around Tumblr blogs for actors/actresses I enjoy and look for discussions that talk about their work: how they do it and what makes it special. Well, and if I'm being totally honest, it's always a bonus if the actor is as Elle Woods put it: "not completely unfortunate looking."

I’m feeling all of this! 🦎

[morganali-writes]

Domestic Impropriety

Evening was settling quickly over Ishgard by the time Artoirel arrived at the Fortemps manor, and glad he was to be, at last, out of the blizzard that was beginning to pick up in earnest. Once divested of his knight’s attire, he made a point to head directly to the parlour – given the weather, he had hopes he would find a certain person there.

And there indeed she was. With one of the chaise lounges pulled up close to the fire and a blanket wrapped around her, Cessalie lounged with her feet tucked beneath her, a needle and garment in hand.

“There you are,” she said, a smile brightening her face as she waved with the hand that still held the needle. “Welcome home.” Something warmed in his chest at her words. He felt his own face draw into a lopsided grin of its own accord, and he strode over to where she sat, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“All is well at Falcon’s Nest, I take it?” flinching, he turned and realised they were hardly as alone has he had assumed. On the opposite side of the room, not quite so close to the fire, his father glanced up at him over the book he was reading.

“It is, the restoration works are progressing well – and Ser Redwald sends his regards,” he replied, lowering himself to the end of the chaise lounge. “Very good.” Lord Edmont nodded and turned back to his book. Artoirel waited a long moment, then turned back to where Cessalie sat in her cocoon of blankets, quietly smiling to herself as she made very quick, practiced stitches.

“What are you about this evening?” he said softly, and though her eyes did not leave her work, she turned herself towards him. “Alas, nothing terribly glamorous – even the Warrior of Light needs to mend her unmentionables,” she said, shooting him a sly look, then sighed. “These garments are quite worn, I truly ought to replace them – but one does not quickly forget poverty, I’m afraid.” “Ah, I see,” he said, floundering for a moment. She pulled tight a knot on the garment she was currently mending (a stocking, it appeared), and clipped the trailing thread.

“Hm, I seem to have all but trapped myself,” she said with a chuckle, as she stretched to reach her next garment. “Would you pass me that chemise, on the top of the pile there?” “It would be my pleasure,” he replied with a laugh, and reached for the garment in question. As he took the chemise in hand, trying not to ponder it overmuch, he found himself instead puzzled by the texture of it. The fabric was worn of course, that much she had said, but there was something about it that didn’t feel quite right. He continued to stare at the garment after handing it over, a puzzled frown creasing his brow.

“Is aught amiss?” Artoirel shook himself. “No, nothing of import, only…” he frowned again, perplexed. “Of what fabric are these garments made?” “Pardon?” said Cessalie, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “I—ah, linen? Hm.” Understanding dawned on him, and he nodded. “Linen. It is of little wonder then that you feel the cold so acutely here – have you any woollen garments?” She hesitated, then averted her gaze. “I am embarrassed to admit it, but no – outer clothes notwithstanding of course. Now I feel quite the fool, but then Ul’dah was never so cold as this.” “No, I imagine not,” Artoirel said with a soft smile, before taking her hand in his. “I fear the tailors and dressmakers of the Crozier will have all ceased trading for the evening, but we shall have to get you some more appropriate garments on the morrow – you will catch your death, otherwise.” She narrowed her eyes at him then, a coy smile crossed her face.

“Artoirel de Fortemps, are you offering to take me shopping for undergarments?” she said, lifting her hand to her lips in mock surprise. Feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment, he grimaced.

“Cessalie.” “Artie.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, defeated. This is my life now, he supposed. “Must you delight in teasing me so?” he said, exasperated, and she gave a soft, little laugh that went some way to softening his mood. “I think I must, you do blush so prettily when you’re flustered.” She said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Eughhh.” Startled, the both of them turned and noted Emmanellain, who also had evidently been there playing cards with Honoroit for some time. “I pray you, find yourselves a private room, I’m like to be ill.”

With a weary sigh, Edmont closed his book with a decisive thump and stood. “While I do not necessarily disagree with your brother’s sentiment,” he said, levelling a resigned look at Artoirel, “I would prefer it if you were married first. Good night, you two.” He made a slight bow in Cessalie’s direction, then made his way out of the room, summoning an indignant Emmanellain as he went, and leaving them quite alone.

“Fury, take me,” Artoirel said weakly, hiding his burning face in his hands. “O-oh.” He looked to Cessalie through his fingers, who looked sheepishly back. A small smile crept onto her lips, then a grin – before giving way to mirthful laughter. His own mortification yielding to her joyful mien, he helplessly laughed along with her.

Still laughing, she took his hands and pulled him closer, drawing him in for a kiss. He could feel her smile even as she pressed her lips to his. Leaning in further, he pulled her into his arms, blanket and all, delighting in the way she tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

“You must think me terribly improper, I fear I shall never learn,” she said, leaning into his embrace. “Perhaps, but I should not change a thing about you,” he said, placing another kiss on the top of her head. “And I defy anyone to suggest that the Warrior of Light and saviour of Ishgard should be admonished because of her manners.” Her breath tickled his neck as she laughed.

After a time, she sighed in contentment. “Woollen undergarments may be a pressing concern for the morrow, but I think I’d much rather have you keep me warm instead.” Artoirel inhaled a sharp breath. “I fear we would make quite a scene should I wrap myself about you thus in a more public sphere.” “Hah, true enough,” she admitted. “Might I then ask a favour?” Her voice was less confident this time, almost shy. He glanced down at her. “You may ask me anything.”

“Would you lend me a nightshirt?” she stared up at him with eyes half-lidded, and he felt something catch in his throat. “I… certainly, though I fear you will drown in fabric.” “That’s quite alright, I shall be quite warm then.” “I dare say you will be,” he murmured, unable to quit his gaze from hers. “I think I should like to see that.”

“What if I showed you?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Cessalie…” “Too forward?” “No, but I fear should I see you thus, I might take you in my arms and do something incredibly reckless.” A slow, lazy grin crossed her face, and his heart beat faster in his chest. “Now that I would quite like to see.” Abruptly she stood, one hand catching her blanket around her like a cape, and the other cupping his cheek.

“Come on then,” she said, leaning down to briefly touch her lips to his, and he felt as if he were a fly, caught in her web. “Fetch me a nightshirt whilst I gather my mending and bring it to my chambers.”

“As you command,” he replied, voice atremble. He stood then, bowed slightly to her, then quietly willed himself to leave the room at a sensible and measured pace.

Minutes or perhaps hours later, he stood at her bedroom door, woollen nightshirt in hand. He knocked once, twice, and after an interminably long moment, the door cracked open. With a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous smile on her lips, she took the proffered garment. “Wait here, I’ll be just a moment,” she said, and shut the door again.

The hallway was quiet while he waited. The clock that sat in the main hall was ticking away the seconds – he could feel his own nerves winding tighter and tighter as the minutes passed.

“You can come in, now,” Cessalie called through the closed door, and he all but jumped out of his skin. Looking this way and that, he took a deep breath, then reached for the door handle and slipped into her room.

Not seeing her immediately, he cast his gaze around the room. Books piled on the bedside table, unlabelled potions and tinctures and sheeves of handwritten notes were scattered about the small bureau that sat next to the narrow window. The blanket she had worn before, now tossed upon an unmade bed. There were flowers and pretty trinkets decorating the shelves, as well. Artoirel smiled to see them, and to see how she’d made the space an extension of herself.

“Ahem.” His eyes focused on the sound of her voice, and he saw her standing at the threshold of the adjoining room.

Wearing naught but his nightshirt.

She stretched her arms out, and the sleeves hung over her hands – laughing, she waved about the excess fabric, before doing a little twirl – causing the fabric that hung to her knees to flare slightly as she moved.

“What do you think?” she said, working to roll up the far too long sleeves to a more manageable length. Artoirel took a breath, not realising he had been holding it since she appeared.

“I think…” he trailed off, letting his eyes drift down the vision before him. The neckline was too wide, of course, and was threatening to slip off her shoulder. I adore you, he thought. You are precious. She stared up at him expectantly, her cheeks rosy and flushed.

“I think that…” that I love you, he thought. “You–  you what?” her eyes were wide, and he blinked. Had his own lips betrayed his thoughts? Heat crept up his neck. “Oh, Halone… I think that I love you,” he repeated. Slowly she raised her hand to cover her mouth.

“You were right,” she said, her voice a tremulous murmur, “that was incredibly reckless of you.” Her eyes searched his for any sort of deceit or trickery, and he hoped that his sincerity was written plain for her to see. It pained him to see how uncertain she was when it came to genuine affection, and he hoped he might redress the balance going forward.

After a moment, she took a step towards him. “Truthfully?” she said, her brow creased in worry at how he might answer her. He took the hand that hovered near her lips and pressed his lips lightly to her fingers. “On my honour as a knight,” he replied. “I shall never lie to you about such things.” Cessalie’s faced flushed red, and she gave a nervous, little laugh.

“Good. I’m glad.” Drawing closer, she leaned her head on his chest. “Forgive me, you’ve caught me quite by surprise. I need time to sort out how I feel.” Artoirel chuckled and enveloped her in a hug. “There is naught to forgive, I quite surprised myself as well. You do not owe me a response, heartfelt or otherwise.” She relaxed in his arms, and he felt her arms snake around his waist. “Thank you,” she sighed into the fur collar of his coat.

“And here I had thought to seduce you,” she said, rallying her confidence once more, peering up at him with a wistful smile. “You most certainly did, have no fear of that,” he laughed. “Perhaps then, I should take my leave before you can seduce me further. I’ll not invite a scandal this night.” “No, indeed.” She said with a chuckle. “Go and rest, my dear, we can always cause a scandal on the morrow.”

“After all,” she said with a sly grin, “You did offer to take me shopping for undergarments.”

#ffxiv #artoirel de fortemps #cessalie sombreterre #wol x artoirel #wolartoirel #well that got slightly out of hand

[pumpkincentaur]

Find the Word Tag 9

Saw an open tag from @winterandwords and decided to participate. Once again all of this is from The Lady Dressed in Blood.

High

From where Sevka sat, the stars looked so very small. Like naught but pinpricks, little needle-holes in the fabric of Niirsin’s holy body. At times like this, Sevka wondered how a god so far away had any hope of hearing anyone’s prayers—her own unwanted whispers notwithstanding. Even if every star was one of the Star-Mother’s eyes, could She truly see everything, from her place so high above the world? Did She know what Sevka was?

Low

The door was not locked. Still cradling her in his arms, Dimir bent low to open the door, then stepped down into the hut’s front room. It was here where Sevka slept, made her meals, and kept her hearth. The back room was where she worked.

“You’ve not been here for hours, have you?” Dimir asked.

Sevka did not answer. His voice still sounded distant, as though he was speaking from behind the other side of a wall. 

“Of course you haven’t. Star-Mother save me.”

Near

The boy’s face split into a wide, gap-toothed grin. “I’m from Jilos. Have you heard of it? It’s in the Dragonback Mountains, too. We could be cousins.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But probably not.” Sevka forced herself to smile again, even as thoughts of Jilos led her back to Koros, which led her back to Dimir, which led her back to the emptiness she now carried with her everywhere she went. It wasn’t this young lad’s fault, where he was born, or that he didn’t know what had happened to her in the village near his hometown. Given the way the Sanctums worked, he’d probably been taken from Jilos as a young boy, and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the town or his family since.

Far

Sevka remained on the other side of the shrine of Niirsin for a long time—far longer than the usual prayers would dictate. Even after he finished his own prayer, Nessian dared not move for fear that Sevka would see him. He did not want to speak to her. Or see her. Or even be seen by her. Any of the three would only serve to remind him of the way she went so ghastly pale before she collapsed in the training pit, followed by Miri prodding her in the ribs with the pointed toe of a Wolf-Knight’s polished steel greaves. While Esendel looked on in disgust and disappointment, of course, like he always did. As if Nessian was supposed to convince Sevka to perform an act of barbarity she was dead set against.

I’ll be doing an open tag of my own, for anyone who sees this and wants to participate. Your words are heart, soul, rain, sun, knife, and board.

#tag games #writeblr #writerblr #writblr #my writing

[earthling-wolf]

Ji Essentialism

Identity & Individualism

The question of identity becomes a very important concern for Ji, as it participates in the establishment of one's core standards and aspirations. For Ji the creation of an identity arises from a longing to embody whatever would be the most perfect and beautiful manifestation of themselves according to a ideal they envision in terms of ethical values, character and aesthetic. While all people have a sense of identity, for Ji “the question of identity” is an essential matter involving the revisiting, rediscovering and reinventing of what our self must be composed of, by comparing that self against some maximal beauty - however that is defined by them personally. There is also an independence within Ji from any situations of origin; what culture or location they were first placed within. Ji  has the capacity to generate a sense of identity from first principles and divorce itself from the specificity of its birthplace. In this sense, it sees no limits to what one can decide to conceive oneself as. What matters most is that their outer manifestation be exemplary of their values and truth principles. This can lead to eccentric behaviors and attires, but also to idiosyncratic beliefs and fixations.

Idealism

Due to the aforementioned, the operation of Ji is more concerned with what – in principle – is the best position or perspective, void of consideration for the necessities and trade-offs suggested by the present. I use the world “idealistic” not necessarily in the dreamy or fantastical sense, but in the purely rational sense of wanting what is fully aligned to reason. Many a Ji type will be stubbornly idealistic and feel “no compromise is a good compromise” and will fight for their Utopian vision of people, society and the world at large. But despite the zeal and fervor they feel for the right cause, Ji will often take few or no steps away from their personal tower towards the practical production of their embellished ideologies. The Ji function is termed the "Compass" because its function is not to carry one to the final place - but to point the way. It is the needle of the psyche, and while we may never arrive at north, it will always strive to point the psyche in that direction. It offers no understanding of the terrain, or what is needed to navigate it, but it does understand one thing — where the proper course is. And notwithstanding the challenges that come with this tendency, without this inner sense of the optimal order, we would have a far weaker grasp of what the ultimate aim is and how to direct resources towards it.

Nobility & Conscience

The Ji function can produce rather abundant feelings of guilt, low self-worth and inadequacy. When the mind is preoccupied with such high visions and aspirations, it is often the case that the state of oneself pales in comparison. For Ji the alleviation of this distress can only be attained by internal efforts to purify one's character so as to live up to their own personal standards. This will tend them towards a higher focus on nobility and the cultivation of personal dignity. Now, whether this personal standard qualifies them as dignified in the eyes of other people or cultures is not the primary metric used, and thus many Ji types will be disqualified as externally noble/dignified for being irresponsible, stubborn, lacking follow-through and being neglectful. Many such character flaws will exist in the Ji type - but Ji will focus on those flaws specific to the values that are most highly promoted by their inner sense. There is a ranking of virtues in Ji which, although specific to each person, often place authenticity, transparency, self-knowledge and truth among the highest ones. Virtues such as dependable, hard working, patient and practical may not be given as much consideration.

Pickiness & Perfectionism

Outside of the aforementioned focal points, Ji is also commonly directed towards the criticism of outer structures. They will manifest acute attention to detail in their crafts, and be picky about shapes, colors, textures, and forms. When working on an art piece, the participation of Ji may lead to a more precise final product, or to no product at all as they may be incapable of settling on a direction or accepting the appearance of what they've produced. As a coworker, this can lead to delays in workflow as the Ji type may spend longer than others in organizing their material beyond the baseline requirements they are being held to. Phrases such as "Just get it out the door, it doesn't have to be perfect" or "Something is better than nothing" are ideas Ji may struggle to integrate and honor, especially when the product is of specific personal importance. Ji operates from a "quality over quantity" philosophy due to its tendency to hyper-focus. If pressured to produce at an accelerated rate, they may evidence unimaginably imprudent oversights, due to how narrow their attention focuses to one thing at a time while ignoring all else.

#Cognitive Typology #Energetics #Introverted Judgment #Ji #INTP #ISTP #ISFP #INFP #Behaviorism #Essentialism #Identity #Individualism #Idealism #Nobility #Conscience #Pickiness #Perfectionism #Prince #Princess

[elarteenpalabras]

Using Acupuncture For Natural Joint Pain Relief

Numerous individuals feel pain around their joints because of multiple factors. A fundamental, ongoing condition, like rheumatoid joint pain or osteoarthritis, can cause joint pain. Other likely purposes behind joint pain incorporate wounds and strain from overexertion, which numerous competitors are susceptible to. Regardless, some individuals could feel frustrated with traditional treatment techniques, including a medical procedure, drug, and, surprisingly, customary injections for relief. Fortunately, there is a natural choice for joint pain relief as acupuncture. Peruse more to see if this elective treatment is something you can pursue joint pain relief.

Figuring out Pain

Nearly everybody has encountered joint pain at some point in their lives. For some's purposes, a rare event simply means overuse or overexertion from actual work or physical work. Notwithstanding, many individuals have joint pain daily and have figured out how to adapt to it as a component of their daily lives.

For what reason Would it be advisable for you to Think about Acupuncture? In many occasions, the most broadly used form of relief for pain is nonsteroidal calming drugs (NSAIDs). For serious pain, a specialist might try and endorse a more grounded drug for relief. Nonetheless, traditional forms of clinical treatment probably won't be just about as compelling as some individuals would like. Those with persistent pain might wish to seek out different choices for pain relief. Another explanation individuals could seek out acupuncture for pain relief is because of the intricacies and results of traditional clinical treatment, which you might see with calming meds and steroid injections.

How Does Acupuncture Function For Joint Pain?

Acupuncture is a customary piece of traditional Chinese medication that has existed for a long time. Acupuncture treatment includes an authorized acupuncture practitioner who uses meager needles embedded through the skin to assist with invigorating explicit focuses around the body. According to the Public Community for Reciprocal and Elective Medication (NCCAM), the traditional Chinese medication hypothesis is that acupuncture can help control "qi." Qi is an individual's essential energy that streams along pathways all through the body, known as meridians. A Public Wellbeing Interview Review discovered that back pain was the most generally detailed use for acupuncture, trailed by joint pain.

Is Acupuncture Safe?

According to NCCAM, acupuncture is safe assuming it is performed by an accomplished practitioner using sterile needles. Less antagonistic aftereffects are related with acupuncture than most standard medication treatments normally used to alleviate pain. While infections and penetrated organs are potential dangers while using acupuncture for natural joint pain relief, these events are incredibly rare.

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[healthyposteveryday]

5 Potential Medical advantages of Gua Sha

This conventional Chinese medication strategy might assist with alleviating torment, help flow, and further develop side effects of certain illnesses. Figure out how.

All that old is turning out to be to some degree new once more. For this situation, we're alluding to gua sha, a conventional Chinese medication strategy accepted to offer numerous medical advantages.

The health practice includes scratching your skin with a coin, spoon, or stone until little red spots (called petechiae) show up. Petechiae show broken vessels under the skin, and they are remembered to make remedial impacts, including advancing bloodstream and dissemination and possibly working on your body's regular mending process.

"Gua sha signifies 'to scratch sand,' and it was generally utilized in China to support the development of 'qi,' or energy stream," says Elizabeth Bahar Houshmand, MD, a board-confirmed dermatologist situated in Dallas and an individual of the American Foundation of Dermatology.

Customary Chinese medication professionals trust that by invigorating petechiae and advancing energy stream, gua sha can mitigate side effects of certain infections and other well-being protests, per Johns Hopkins Medication.

Be that as it may, what does the exploration say? Peruse on to realize what benefits gua sha may offer.

1. May Assist with easing Persistent Torment

As per Houman Danesh, MD, head of integrative agony the executives at the Icahn Institute of Medication at Mount Sinai in New York City, gua sha elevates blood stream to the area being scratched, which can assist with diminishing agony and solidness. "It's normally used to get alleviation from strain migraines, neck and back agony, or expanding," he says.

As a matter of fact, numerous actual specialists utilize the Graston Strategy, a technique like gua sha, to lessen torment and further develop versatility in individuals with outer muscle conditions.

"Thus, in the event that somebody has glue capsulitis, otherwise called frozen shoulder, you could do gua sha on the shoulder to separate minute scar tissue or grips," says Jeff Gould, an authorized needle therapy specialist with the Johns Hopkins Integrative Medication and Stomach related Center in Lutherville, Maryland. Scratching assembles the tissue, supports flow, and smooths out muscle hitches, further developing a scope of movement and agony, he makes sense of.

For instance, in a past report, grown-ups with constant neck torment who got a solitary gua sha treatment saw critical upgrades in torment seriousness following multi-week, contrasted and the people who utilized a warming cushion. Whether gua sha is successful for long haul neck torment the board should be concentrated further, in any case.

Likewise, a randomized clinical preliminary distributed in 2019 in Correlative Treatments in Clinical Practice found that patients with ongoing lower back torment detailed less torment power and better general well-being after two gua sha medicines, contrasted and the benchmark group. In any case, more examination is expected to affirm these outcomes.

2. May Assist with facilitating Perimenopause Side effects

Perimenopause alludes to the progress to menopause, or when ladies arrive at the finish of their conceptive years, as indicated by the Mayo Facility. It frequently has actual side effects, making numerous ladies experience hot glimmers, rest issues, and mindset changes.

While there is a wide range of medicines accessible for menopausal side effects, a few ladies go to correlative treatments like gua sha, under the direction of a medical services supplier, to construct an integrative way to deal with managing the perimenopause change.

In a concentrate in China, distributed in 2017 on Menopause, ladies with perimenopause side effects who got 15-minute gua sha medicines one time each week, notwithstanding their ordinary treatment, saw more critical enhancements in side effects and personal satisfaction than ladies who didn't. In particular, the ladies in the gua sha bunch said that they encountered more noteworthy decreases in hot blazes, sleep deprivation, weakness, anxiety, and migraine following two months.

More exploration is required, however, primer proof recommends gua sha may act as a promising, viable, nondrug treatment for perimenopausal conditions in certain ladies.

3. May Assist with working on Diabetic Neuropathy

Diabetic neuropathy is a serious diabetes complexity that might influence up to 50 percent of individuals with diabetes, as per the Mayo Center. It's a sort of nerve harm that happens when elevated degrees of glucose (glucose) harm nerves all through the body.

Diabetic neuropathy is ordinarily found in the legs and feet, causing deadness and agony, and it might bring on some issues in the stomach-related framework, urinary lot, veins, and heart, the Mayo Facility notes.

Gua sha may help by supporting dissemination and improving nerve correspondence. In a randomized controlled preliminary in China, distributed in 2019 in Correlative Treatments in Clinical Practice, patients with diabetic neuropathy saw huge side effect enhancements after 12 week-by-week gua sha meetings, contrasted and the people who didn't get gua sha.

In particular, the patients said that they encountered upgrades in tangible capability, balance, evening consuming sensations in the legs and feet, and plasma glucose levels (a typical technique for diagnosing and observing diabetes).

Considering that examination is extremely restricted, it's probably best that you stay with your ordinary diabetes and nervous system science care as of now, and counsel your doctor before attempting gua sha as a correlative treatment.

4. May Lift Exercise Execution and Recuperation

There is some proof out of China that recommends that gua sha may further develop practice execution and accelerate recuperation a while later.

In a review distributed in 2019 in the Diary of Conventional Chinese Medication, specialists had 44 men get gua sha, farce gua sha (no petechiae), or no gua sha, close by their typical two times week after week weightlifting preparation.

Following two months of treatment, the ones who got gua sha detailed less seen exertion in finishing the grab and quick lift workout, contrasted and different men, despite the fact that everybody utilized just 85% of their one-rep max (the greatest measure of weight they're ready to lift in a solitary redundancy).

Scientists hypothesized that gua sha may have advanced quicker muscle recuperation, as the men weren't restricted by exhaustion from past instructional meetings.

These outcomes reverberate discoveries from a review distributed in 2017 in the Diary of Conventional Chinese Medication. Notwithstanding, bigger investigations are expected to affirm these outcomes.

5. May Alleviate Immune system Sicknesses

While the exploration is restricted, gua sha may help individuals with immune system sicknesses. "You can utilize gua sha to decrease fundamental irritation, so I use it a ton on patients with immune system sicknesses, similar to lupus," Gould says, portraying his own narrative reports of really focusing on his patients. It might assist with bringing down irritation and give side effect alleviation when done on a continuous premise, he says.

Scratching the tissues advances better dissemination of blood and supplements in the body, which can assist with bringing down aggravation. Animating petechiae is likewise remembered to enact mitigating resistant proteins known as cytokines, per a survey distributed in 2021 in the Diary of Family Medication and Essential Consideration.

Remember that gua sha isn't a solution for immune system sicknesses, and that you ought to continuously talk with your essential medical care supplier first prior to attempting any new reciprocal treatments. More examination is as yet expected to comprehend how gua sha may assist individuals with immune system illnesses.

#health lifestyle healthylifestyle medicine

[rowenabean]

sharing a snippet, because I enjoyed writing this

The rain stopped.

It had been days of rain - sometimes a downpour, sometimes a faint drizzle - but this was the first actually dry moment Hari had seen since they first stepped out of the caves. She straightened herself painstakingly, joints creaking, and raised her head to the breeze. Never mind the lack of sun; never mind the dark skies and leafless trees. The breeze was still the same.

She stood there for a minute to savour the feeling. The wind tickled her scalp underneath her hair, cold but clean. Around her lay rain-soaked rocks, faint traces of lichen still clinging to them. Not much living around these days.

The lamp on her forehead sent a beam ahead to illuminate a lone tree. A few pinecones still hung from its branches, although the needles were long gone. She smiled, good firewood those, then gasped as she looked down. There, at her feet, somehow still alive after all these years, a few mushrooms grew.

Hari drew closer, and lowered herself to the ground. Cautiously, she plucked a mushroom and turned it over to view its pores. It had been a long time, but those were ceps, all right.

She turned back to the entrance to the cave, where her granddaughter sat.

“Come on, Areta! We’re having a feast!"

Areta stumbled to her feet, face clearly showing her confusion.

“The first people to feel the touch of the wind in sixty years, we have to celebrate it! Mushrooms and game and oh, you don't even know what you've never had. As soon as they get back!”

“Isn't that.. oh, a waste?” Areta said. “What if we need that food?”

“My child. You have to celebrate when you can. If I've learned anything, it's that. You have to find reasons to celebrate. And today, it's the wind, and the mushrooms! We'll save them till Ash and Mara return, but together we will eat, and be joyful.”

-

Ash and Mara returned the next day to a warm fire lighting up the entrance to the cave, and Areta's flute music reverberating amongst the ravines. Ash paused when they first came in sight of Areta at the entrance, playing despite her broken arm.

He lifted his arm – weighed down by game – and greeted her. His voice reverberated against the mountainside, and he winced for a moment, then forgot it in his joy. Mara beside him was yelling too, and even tried to run down the hill to her sister, notwithstanding her laden pack, then went sliding helter-skelter down the hill. Areta was already scolding her for putting herself at risk, when they already had one person injured. Mara merely grinned. “Can I have my hug?”

Areta snorted, but moved in, then held an arm out to Ash too, who was still only halfway down the hill having taken the slower way (ie, the way that didn't end up covered in mud and at risk of bodily injury). He laughed.

“Some of us know what care is!” he yelled. “Give me a moment!”

She let him get to the bottom of the hill, but he was pulled into the hug before he'd had a chance to drop his pack, animals banging around him.

“Uh. You might not want dead rabbit on you?”

-

Mara lay sleepy in the blankets until a savoury aroma reached her. She could identify rabbit meat smoking, but there was something else there, something totally unfamiliar. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

She dragged herself upright and went out to the mouth of the cave. Areta and Ash were sitting next to the fire, talking softly, and Granny was still cooking. She doled out the food to each of them – fried algae-cakes, roasted rabbit meat, and some sort of shrivelled unfamiliar thing.

Ash poked at it. “Granny Hari, what are these?���

“Mushrooms!” she said with a huge grin. “I found us mushrooms!”

Mara tried one cautiously. The texture was odd, but the flavour came in an intense burst on her tongue, juices sparking through her mouth. She took another bite. “Granny, these are amazing!”

“What did I say? A feast, I said! This is our feast!”

And indeed, a feast it was.

#ro writes #brain has been On creative mode lately #it hasn't been very picky about which creative thing #but it has been insistent on creating #for which i have to show one merino top #several clay pieces #and this #my writing #the context to this snippet is this is a family that have lived underground for the last several decades #and they have through various circumstances come aboveground for the first time #underground places #this story is almost at 30k words which i am very ??? about that is a lot #and i have another overnight writing day on wed because i have a dentist appointment in another town thurs

[boltsin]

What Is Skin Needling Treatment And Involved Risks or Side Effects?

What is skin needling?

Skin needling is known with various names in the skin and clinical local area, including dermarolling, percutaneous collagen enlistment (PCI), collagen acceptance treatment, dry inking and intradermabrasion. This treatment basically includes the utilization of physically applied jade face roller that have around 200 fine careful needles joined to the roller system. It's applied straightforwardly to the skin in a bungle movement. The goal of the treatment is to animate or penetrate the face to penetrate to deliver more collagen and elastin that gives smooth and help in decrease of scar or stretch imprints through the skins regular injury mending process.

How does Skin Needling work?

Skin needling or Microneedling treatment assists your skins with delivering more collagen. The thought is that pinpricks utilized in the treatment make slight injury the skin and that the answers that by making new collagen-rich tissue. This new tissue is, thusly, more even in tone and surface. By and large, with the age, your begins to lose the collagen. In some cases, a physical issue to the face additionally results from something similar. By elevating the skin to make new tissues, there might be more collagen creation that makes the skin firmer.

Targeted areas for skin needling

This treatment is in many cases utilized all over to target skin break out scars, age spots, scarce differences and kinks, huge pores, one more sort of scars, lopsided tone, and so on notwithstanding facial worries, miniature needling is in some cases used to treat stretch imprints in different region of the body. It is likewise found in a review that while miniature needling joined with fillers is likewise viable for stretch blemishes on thighs and stomach regions.

Risks or side effects

Like every restorative strategy, the skin needling isn't without risk. The most widely recognized result of this treatment is a little disturbance in your magnificence quickly following the system. There may likewise be little redness on your skin for a couple of days. Call your primary care physician in the event that you notice more secondary effects like dying, swelling, stripping or another contamination.

You may not be an optimal contender for needling in the event that you are pregnant, have any skins sickness, have serious injuries, or any set of experiences of scars.

#jade roller #face roller #skincare #fece