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@kalicofox / kalicofox.tumblr.com

Kali is a writer, storyteller and (hopefully) wordsmith. She/Her. Chronically online. I love my stories, my family of choice, and my dog.

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Footsteps in Amber

All right! So I've talked a bit about Footsteps in Amber over here, but I never actually said I was posting the first draft online!

SO! If you're interested in reading a roughly edited version of the book that I'm currently rewriting, then here's the link to both Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity!

I'll also be loredumping information on the world, creatures, gods, 'technology' and races!

I hope you find it interesting!

Today was an update day! Chapter 26- Kaz has gone live on both sites! In today's adventure, two nerds geek out about spells, and Tzedef quietly loses his mind over the potential military applications!

Update! Chapter 27- Acceptance, has gone live! Please enjoy as Tzedef finally starts on what appears to be the last leg of his journey to find the Ambered Castle!

My first time doing clasped weft technique! It's slow but so so striking! It has unsquared my overshot but I'm treating that as a feature this time.

You throw the shuttle in from one side, loop it round your second yarn and throw it back through the same shed to pull the second yarn into the cloth....

.... And then you beat very very slowly and carefully while pulling on each yarn to get the colour change exactly where you want it, and then you carry on and admire/curse your result. It's an absolute bastard to unweave.

For these colours I am making a zigzag between them, but for my next pair of colours (blue and orange) I will do something else.

Curves are harddddddd

Mostly-computer-generated randomness (hence numbers blutacked to loom). I don't like this much but I'm glad to have tried it? People make some really stunning pieces with a random border like this, but it's not a good choice for this warp!

Next and last will be green+pink, still working out what shape to make with them.

Crenellations, as @hebrideansky requested! I had not anticipated that they would look so much like, uhhhh, fingers.

That's this towel done apart from a bit more white for the hem; the next time I see it will be in however many days or weeks I finish this warp and it comes off the loom. I'd like to think days, but I've been stuck in this warp since October, so we shall see.

Holy shit, I'm sorry, did you say TOWEL?!?

Talking with writers online

Their stories: Amazing grammar, soaring vocabulary, beautiful imagery and prose which flows like a river.

In chats: no capitalisation or punctuation, swears like a sailor, misspellings everywhere, acronyms and abbreviations every five words, idek

I have never related to a statement more than โ€œdo you know how much braining it takes to make words go?โ€

still amazed that like. 7 years later. this post is still going. it gets like 5-12 notes a day

itโ€™s a heritage post, is what it is.

The secret to a long lasting relationship is finding someone who hates leaving their comfort zone and then wiggle your way in there. You wiggle your way right inside their comfort zone and then you're there. By the time they notice you're there, they'll just sigh like "oh great, now there's a creature in here", but they don't want to move out of their comfort zone, and tossing you out of there would now alter the air pressure and constitution of the comfort zone too abruptly and it would pop like a bubble.

That's how you keep a relationship. You weasel your way inside someone's comfort zone and make yourself an essential component of it, so now they, too, will have to make sure that your dumb ass stays in there. Their comfort zone now has a fucking creature in it, and it's not going to be the same comfort zone if the creature isn't there.

I would be remiss not to say Kimharry to this

Jasonโ€™s masseur deserves a fucking pay raise.

He has no idea how the fuck the dude gives back massages that quiet the goddam pit but you bet your ass Jason is recommending Danny to anyone who looks like they need a massage.

*clears throat*

Danny is not even a licensed masseuse

He was just out and about in Gotham one day, spied a pit-boy, and the best excuse he could think of was โ€œhey lemme give you a back rubโ€

Just on a park bench, and boy it took a lot to coax the guy over in the first place, but he melted like a contented cat when Danny got to work

And then asked if he could see Danny again and like, book an appointment

And Danny, fucking idiot, said โ€œyeah sureโ€, went home, googled how much a massage should cost, having given a massive stranger his cellphone number

But Jason kept asking why Danny didnโ€™t have like, an office for this whole thing

And Danny, still knowing fuck all about actual massage but what heโ€™s picked up online and what felt good when Sam and Tucker were working the tension outta him after a fight, doesnโ€™t wanna just say โ€œwell Iโ€™m just a guyโ€

Jasonโ€™s got LOADS of nasty ecto problems, and Danny canโ€™t fix that all at once

Hell, weekly sessions barely do more than keep it in check. Extra $100 for an hour long session isnโ€™t bad though, and heโ€™s got a flat couch

And then. One day. Thereโ€™s a proper massage bed at his door. Like, expensive, padded, nice massage bed with a face hole and everything

(Danny works out itโ€™s a face hole solely from diagrams and is very relieved)

sooooo, now Danny has an under the table massage business

And Jason, sweet guy, must have fucking REFERRED HIM TO A CRIME LORD because now a bunch more people have called him and theyโ€™re all billing someone called Red Hood and yeah Dannyโ€™s making like, a grand a month just on that and they all have some ecto taint

(probably from working with Jason, who probably also works for this crime lord, and Dannyโ€™s now really wondering who tf Red Hood is and what the fuck heโ€™s doing to his people

might have to go kick his ass about it)

But uhโ€ฆ well, Dannyโ€™s good with his hands, Samโ€™s sent him some online courses, and heโ€™s learned a lot from videos

Itโ€™s just fucking typical that now that heโ€™s on a crime lordโ€™s payroll a goddamn vigilante with the most visibly knotted muscles Dannyโ€™s ever seen has rolled up to his door and gasped that they heard heโ€™s good at relieving tension

Danny bites down his usual joke about โ€œwell the holeโ€™s for your faceโ€ (he never knew so why should they) and justโ€ฆ. Does his best

The vigilante on his table is actually Nightwing.

The entire time, Danny keeps a steady dialog about the importance of self care and moderating responsibilities. He recommends talking to a therapist and how his sister is in school to become a Psychiatrist and and will be graduating soon.

Nightwing pays him double, only because Danny refused the $500 tip he offered so this was the compromise.

This is the most relaxed Dick has felt in over a decade. Heโ€™s so loose right now that some of the goons speculate he's actually Plastic Man pretending to be Nightwing.

Jason threatens to shoot him if he poaches his masseuse, but the sister is fair game.

Fresh out of Medschool, Jasmine Nightingale receives a very lucrative offer from Wayne Enterprises.

Danny manages to save up enough over a few months to actually pay for classes properly and get the paperwork. Which means his nice home office thing? Becomes a legit (ish) business.

Meanwhile? Jazz is living her dreams as the better psych for the goddamn Justice League!!!! Danny what the fuck?! Danny just like "I dunno. Red Hood recommend me. And I recommend you?"

Guys. My husband (A MASSAGE THERAPIST) is taking over my body from 50 miles away so that I can tell you that it's MASSAGE THERAPIST! and it's call a massage TABLE. please I can hear the rant in my head.

It's the same with me only with my mother.

Danny discretely scrambles to become a licensed massage therapist before anyone looks too closely because one of Batman's affiliates has now been made aware of his existence.ย  Apparently there are proper terms for things?ย  Shit, has he already blown his cover by not knowing the vocabulary?ย  (He has not.ย  Nightwing is not an expert on massage and didn't even bother to question his credentials between Jason having already deemed him legit and the results speaking for themselves.)

On another note, Danny learns a lot while speedrunning the training/certification process.ย  (Did he go overboard and learn physical therapy too? Maybe.)ย  Combining actual knowledge with his natural talent and whatever elements of his ghost powers are relevant brings his skills up to god-mode level.

What's that, slightly liminal dude from the Red Hood gang?ย  You haven't been quite right after an injury even though it healed up fine and shouldn't be giving you trouble?ย  Well let's take a look.ย  Ah, yes, Danny sees what's happening there.ย  Stimulate these muscles and nerves like this, clean up the ecto and offer it some gentle guidance (thank you Frostbite, for teaching him the basics), and walk the guy through some exercises to help the affected area relearn normal operating procedures.

All of a sudden the older thugs in Hood's gang are practically back in their prime.ย  Turns out, a lot of what we associate with age is actually the accumulated effects of poor self care.ย  It's not that time makes you frail, it's that twenty-somethings haven't had time to fuck themselves up too badly.

Between Hood setting up safety nets to make sure everyone has access to adequate nutrition and medical treatment, the physical and psychological benefits of massage, and being cleansed regularly of the bad juju from the Lazarus pit and the various curses on the city, these guys have a new lease on life.

Danny is beginning to think there should be classes on the ghostly/liminal health and hygiene stuff that works differently than for people who haven't had close brushes with death.ย  It's just too bad the Anti Ecto Acts would make it so dangerous.ย  Maybe one of the Bats overhears him talking about this on a video call with Sam and Tucker.ย ย 

Maybe Damian was spying on him because the idea of massage fixing pit rage was suspicious to him.ย  Surely they would already know.ย  Maybe Hood just arrived a little early for a session and didn't want to interrupt, then heard something concerning.

Either way, the Red Hood gang is now hosting underground health classes for the undead and death touched (and possibly also making plans for the GIW).ย  Danny calls Frostbite for help putting a lesson plan together.ย ย 

Solomon Grundy is suddenly more functional than he's ever been before and has become a valued member of the Crime Alley community.ย  (Your choice whether he joins the Red Hood gang or just settles down as a civilian)

As everyone's ghostly health improves, Crime Alley begins to gradually take on qualities of a healthy shared haunt.ย  Some weirdness occurs, but it's not bad.ย  Structures become sturdier and easier to repair.ย  Conflict between residents has lost any edge of genuine hostility and taken on an undercurrent of solidarity.ย  Residents find themselves able to sense when a neighbor needs help/support as well as parse the intent behind assistance offered.ย ย 

Crime alley was always a tight-knit community, but this strange understanding trust in each other is new.ย  Gotham's various curses begin to lose their hold on Crime Alley like an infection being cleared out by an immune system.

Batman:ย  *looks at Crime Alley* What the heck is going on over there?

initial objective danny: I will try to eliminate the bad energy of this random guy

what he did: remove negative energy from a fragment of the city

Due to being free of curses, Crime Alley now has a totally different vibe from the rest of Gotham. Sunlight breaks through the ever-present gloom of the city to shine warmly on this one area like something out of a Renaissance painting. Even at night, the neighborhood just feels nice.

Two face has started taking breaks to just hang out there because it's the one thing that makes his brain stop trying to fistfight itself.

for some reason, Black mask doesn't seem to be able to enter anymore.

Except Danny canโ€™t really just absorb all this bad ecto, because itโ€™s claimed ecto, itโ€™s from people and has a different ecto signature than his.

So after every session, Danny has to take the ecto thatโ€™s been gathering just under the skin of his palms, and collects it in a jar.

Different people, different jars, because claimed ecto doesnโ€™t mix. Their ecto signatures keep them slightly separate, like the different densities of liquids in a jar of olive oil, dish soap, and water.

And that process was all well and good for one personโ€ฆ but now heโ€™s got quite a few clients.

Queue a secret side room fills with shelves and shelves of jars of glowing green ecto, slowly shifting in each jar, pressing against the glass as he passes to the next jar.

Occasionally heโ€™ll head home, taking all the ecto with him in a thermos(they can only store multiple ecto signatures short term), and dumping it in the portal to be cycled and filtered.

What he doesnโ€™t realize?

His eyes glow as he extracts the ecto during the session.

It would be funnier if Danny while being a massage therapist, decides to bullshit the jar by saying that he's collecting their bad juju into the jar and shows the mucky-looking thing he extracted from them.

It would be almost like the egg spell thing that many people do, only that it shows a murky green-looking extract. Gotham is used to all types of things, but Danny, having explained that the bad juju in the jar caused all the negative energy in Gotham collected in them?

They're definitely never going to tell anyone except for those who experienced it because seeing those coming out of them? And the more Danny extracts those 'bad jujus' from them, the better they feel, so for sure, they're not going to tell anyone about them nor about the fact that their therapist is obviously a meta helping extract the bad juju from them.

we all got really lucky that alexander fleming wasnโ€™t allergic to penicillin huh

imagine the guy who happens to discover the Mold That Heals You but unfortunately heโ€™s part of the 10% of people whoโ€™s bodies turns it into the Mold That Kills You Harder

Do you guys think Barbie exists in the Star Trek universe? Because it would be really funny if they started making like diversity barbies when we discovered aliens were real. Like whenever someone joins the federation, they make barbies of them.

This is Vulcan Barbie, this is Tellarite Barbie, and this is Andorian Barbie, together with Star Fleet Barbie, they make up the Federation Barbiesยฎ collection. And then people were like but we want more representation, so they started making a "Federation and friends" collection, and there's Ferengi Barbie, Orion Barbie, Bajorian Barbie etc etc

and they should have starship playsets!!!

Klingon Barbie comes with a tiny pink bat'leth.

Danny: Ugh, they're back again

Jazz: Don't make that face at paying customers. Do you want to make a portal back home?

Danny rolling his eyes: Yes

Jazz: Then we need to get enough money to buy the parts. If that means waiting tables at a barely legal dinner, where idiots hit on us, then we wait those stupid tables. Now go over there and get the Waynes to leave us a 200 tip.

Danny: Fine, but only if you do too!

Jazz: *Tighten her apron straps into an hourglass figure* Way ahead of you.

Danny: *Rolling eyes but does the same*

Meanwhile with the Waynes

Bruce: It's so nice to go out to eat with you all

Alfred: Indeed. It's a nice change, don't you agree, children?

Wayne kids: *hyperventilating*

Bruce Not looking up from his phone: The Fenton siblings?

Alfred: Indeed, sir. It seems like Master Dick, Master Jason, and Miss Cass are going to attempt to speak to Ms. Fenton today. Master Tim, Master Damian, Master Duke, and Miss Steph don't seem mentally ready to look Mister Fenton in the eye. Bets?

Bruce: Dick chokes on his fork again. Tim face plants on the table, and Steph once again speaks in gibberish after forgetting the entire English language.

Alfred: Very good, sir.

Nither Danny nor Jazz were big flirts, but they learned together that flirting and a bit of skin led to bigger tips.

Danny tucked in his shirt, rolled up his sleeves to expose his forearms, tousled his hair, dabbed a bit of clear lip gloss on his lips, and strutted towards the Waynes with a try full of waters held in one hand. People had types, and the Waynes all seemed to like subtle strength.

"What can I get you this morning?"

He flashes Tim a smile, who slumps behind the menu. Dick snickers at him, but his own ears go red when Jazz flicks her fingers at him in a hello from across the cafe.

"Pantoast," Steph says confidently.

"You got!" Danny pulls out his pen with a twirl and writes both pancakes and french toast on his pad. The Waynes can afford the extra plate, and a bigger bill means bigger tips. "Toppings?"

Danny scratches at his chest, feeling four set of eyes follow his fingers.

"Pecs, eh, pecans," Steph sputters. Danny graciously ignores the flob, even as Damian scoffs at her.

Steph's flusters are always cute.

"Blueberry pancakes for Damian?" Danny asks. It's not what Damian always orders, but its favorite and the youngest Wayne always seems to preen when Danny remembers.

Damian nods, and Danny goes around the table. Most of what they order is heavy on the protein, omelets and skillets and eggs benedict for Duke, with extra tomatoes. Alfred simply orders orange juice and a fruit cup.

Danny touches Tim's hand, just to watch him blush. "Gonna try decaf today?"

"N, no."

"Double latte it is then."

Danny knows they have shit coffee, but the machine latte is okay. Danny also knows the Waynes can afford much better. They're here for one, okay, two reasons only.

He delivers the food with a smile, leaning farther than needed over Tim's lap to place down Duke's plate. He bites his lip while doing so for Damian. Brushes fake crumbs off his chest for Steph as he double checks he hasn't missed something.

Bruce Wayne smiles into his mug of bad coffee.

It's all fun, teasing the Wayne kids. Danny enjoys the tips, the family enjoys poking fun at each other. And when they're dining, the other patrons behave better. Jazz gets less taps on her rear, Danny less pulls on his apron ties.

Jason tried once, to ask Jazz out. She pretended confusion, not recognizing it for what it was.

They can only tease and play, after all. They will be out of here as quick as they can be.

Jazz volunteers to take over the coffee pot for a refill to get in some face time, and Danny sees Tim elbow Jason and Steph waggle her eyebrows at Cass, who ignores it all as she watches Jazz pour coffee without a single drop.

In another life, in another dimension, maybe Danny would be more open to one of them making a move.

Instead, he rings up the order. $300 for brunch at a three star restaurant. The Waynes can eat. And drink. Drip coffee is 0.25 a refill, and Tim's three lattes add up too.

$60 for a 20% tip, a round hundred cuz they're Waynes, an extra fifty for the flirting. It's not much, but it'll do for a guy with no papers working under the table.

He places the check on the table near Bruce's hand. He doesn't rush them out, and any coffee refills Danny is willing to pay for with his tip. Tim's not on the edge anymore, he's traded spots with Duke, and Danny smiles at him.

"Good luck with midterms. They're coming up soon, yeah?"

"Yeah." He's not as shy and squirmy as the others, but his voice is so soft around Danny. He likes being seen.

"Tell me how they went next week."

He flutters his eyelashes just a bit. Holds his gaze as he picks up plates.

The Waynes will be back, and next week Jazz will take the table. Week after week after week. Until the Waynes get tired of their current status quo or Danny finishes the portal.

He's got eight months to enjoy this.

I ADORE the small ways Danny flirts with them and Bruce smiling into his cup!!!

When the portal first turns on, all the lights in the apartment flicker. Later, they will cause the largest blackout in Gotham's recent history. For now, the momentary darkness is illuminated by a sputter of green. Danny's shitty miniature closet, now covered in metal gadgetry and wires, crackles with contained lightning. Their breaths catch.

And then - silence. The lightning zaps against metal. Green fades out, and the lights turn back on.

"No," Danny breathes out, stumbling into the portal as if to grasp the swirling ecto with his hands. He fails, same as when he'd tried to rip open a portal through his own powers, and his gloved fist slams against the metal as he lets out some truly vitriolic curses. Gotham had been educational in that regard.

For her part, Jazz's knees go limp and she slums to the floor. Her teeth bite into the meat of her cheek and she listens, mind blank, as Danny paces.

" - the safety switch is on, I'm not that dumb. Voltage was good - maybe the building cables are too old? How are we supposed to replace that?"

"It wasn't the cables," says Jazz, finding her voice calm. "We bypassed into the grid - "

"I guess we're going to have to change that back before we get found," Danny rubs a hand down his face and sprawls beside her, staring up at the portal's ceiling covering his closet. His voice is small as he admits, "I don't know how I fucked up."

He'd grown up so much this past year, his voice deepening and stubble needing to be shaved off with such frequency he'd spent a week preening about it. In the mirror he looked increasingly like their father, shoulders broad and strong. Jazz stretched out beside him and grabbed his hand, and together they numbly observed their hopes and dreams sputter around them.

"Do you think this is how mom and dad felt when their portal failed?" Jazz asks.

"Theirs didn't fail," said Danny. "The safety switch was turned off."

"Ambient ecto levels match Amity," said Jazz, forcing her brain to think mechanical analytics instead of psychoanalyzing herself and her brother, or worrying about going back to their boring, unfulfilling waiter jobs as they hustled for money.

At least they'd see the Wayne family again. Maybe if they were stuck here she'd flirt back for real.

"It's not enough," said Danny. "It was never enough to be a power source, that's why they blew out all the blocks. The calculations don't match - I know the blueprints of the portal and I know I matched it. Maybe they added an extra power source besides electricity?" He starts muttering calculations and possible fuel sources. Jazz tunes him out when he starts wondering where to get uranium.

A horrible thought had occurred to Jazz and she squeezed her little brother's cold hand tightly. It wasn't only ghosts who existed in the Infinite Realms, but they made up a majority of the creatures found. How did they get there? Ambient ecto, strong emotions -- that created shades, like the countless they'd encountered in Gotham. How did they cross over?

This dimension had been thrilling and concerning all at once. So many heroes, and so many insane villains to match, and aliens and gods and the safety of the planet got threatened every other week. At least it didn't fall to Danny to fix things, but. She's pretty sure at least some of those doomsday scenarios involved odd magics that sucked out the soul to power something else.

"Does death give off energy?"

Danny cut himself off and gave her a look. "Duh, ecto."

"There's the missing link," said Jazz. "It's gotta be, right?"

"What, death? I can't exactly build this on a graveyard. Can you imagine the headlines? Actually, can you imagine the bats?"

She sat up. "I mean. You."

"Me," said Danny. Then, "Oh." A nervous laugh escaped him, eyeing the portal in his closet the same way a mouse watched a feral cat. "You think. I created the portal?"

"You must have," said Jazz. The triumph of certainty forced her to stand up, pulling Danny up and clutching both his hands now. "That's the missing link. The extra energy!"

"And how is that going to help us?" Danny cried, giving their clutched hands an incredulous shake. "Do you want us to kill someone just to get back home?"

That snapped her triumph back to reality. She and Danny stared at each other. "And what if you're wrong?" Danny's eyes gleamed green around the edges. "We'd have just -- I refuse. I can't. And I can't exactly die a second time."

He paused. "I mean, I probably could, but - "

"No," said Jazz sharply. She was not as strong as Danny but he was unresisting as she hauled him out of the portal. His room was a mess of abandoned clothes around their packed belongings, strewn with metal parts and tools. They went to the very edge of the room, to the curtained window, and she spared a thought to hoping the green glow and flickering lights hadn't been spotted. The last thing they needed was the bats descending upon them now. Not when the portal was done. Not when they were so close.

"Maybe I'm wrong," said Jazz. Her body was between Danny and the portal, and it's gaping maw was not, objectively, hungry. It was just a trick of the mind. Her own racing heart acknowledging mortality. "And I mean, there's no guarantee it would work again the same way."

"It probably would," Danny muttered, looking out the window. "I did die again, before, when Sam - it worked again. And there's Vlad."

"Okay," said Jazz. "Okay. We can - "

"We won't," said Danny, sharply.

"Of course we won't," said Jazz. "But if we don't, then - "

"We could ask the Justice League for help ," said Danny without much enthusiasm. They shared a mutual grimace. "Like, 50-50 odds they do help us out. Batman isn't as much of a creepy fuck as he seemed at first. And Superman is downright cool! And an alien! They got to understand wanting to return home."

"And what are they going to do?" Jazz crossed her arms. "Stop saving the planet from Darkland - "

"Darkseid - " Danny corrected.

" - Just to help out two random people who can't even prove they're from another dimension punch a hole in reality? I refuse to be to be stuck here labeled as a supervillain just because there are actual curses on this horrible city with fantastic welfare resources that makes everyone with ambition go evil!"

"Shh," said Danny. He pushed the curtains to more fully cover the window. "Don't tempt fate. Or the bats. Or like, Justice League Dark."

Silence filled the apartment. "It's not the worst thing," said Jazz. "Being stuck here."

"Bats haven't yet figured out it's me doing lowdown vigilanteism," said Danny, without enthusiasm.

"You can get your GED!"

"I think American History is different here and I'll fail miserably."

"You can study for your GED," said Jazz, pointedly. "And me too. And Gotham U has pretty good scholarships."

"I bet we can seduce the Wayne's into paying tuition."

That made Jazz laugh. "We could. I think they've offered it, actually." She'd pretended at ignorance the first time, then demurred the next. They hadn't offered thrice, but it was only a matter of time.

"I can convince them to give me a job at Wayne Tech," said Danny. "Behold: I build portals that don't work."

She elbowed him lightly. "No guys in white to hunt you down."

"No crazy ghost hunting parents," said Danny, but his voice wavered.

"Yeah," said Jazz. She turned back to the dark, silent portal and bit her lip. "No parents."

"No friends."

"We haven't been very friendly."

"I miss them," Danny's voice cracked. "I miss them so bad. I want to go home!"

Even though he was taller than her now - an absolute travesty of genetics - he burrowed his face in her shoulder as they hugged. "We will," she murmured fervently. Maybe there was truth to the curses driving people evil here, because an insane idea took root in her mind. "We will. I promise." She hugged her little brother tighter.

When they separated and she calmly walked into the portal, Danny said, "What are you doing?"

"Turning the safety switch off," said Jazz, doing just that. It was a small thing, nothing like the original portal. Danny kept all the cables securely tied to the sides. After the accident he'd always been careful about lab safety protocols.

Accident. She can't call it that anymore.

"That's probably smart," said Danny. He rubbed his fist over his wet eyes. "I'll just. Unlatch from the power grid before someone realizes what we did."

"Okay," said Jazz. Her fingers were tight against the switch. "Hey Danny?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"Jazz? Jazz!"

The portal switched on. The swirl of green caught her abdomen, turning her entire body weightless. Then, the next second, while her senses struggled to reorient and her stomach realized it abruptly did not exist - displaced, moved into another dimension, ecto filling her senses like she could taste the color green - the electricity hit.

When she comes to, Danny is hunched over her. Her ears keep ringing long enough for him to start crying, and Jazz lifts a tired, heavy arm to wipe his tears away only for her hand to pass through his flesh. Her skin was blue, tinged green from the light of the portal behind them. He'd pulled her out of there. He'd pulled her out of the portal.

"It worked," said Jazz, her voice hoarse and barely a whisper. "It worked!"

"You fucking idiot!" cried Danny, dripping snot at tears all over her. "You - you - "

Jazz's tired hand falls to the ground. She can't feel her heartbeat. Her entire body aches, nerves dull and firing at the same time. A faint scent of pork mixed into the ecto in the air like an army of ecto-weenies marching out of their fridge. Maybe she'd gone full ghost and her body was still in the portal, eternally suspended in the ecto with electricity running through it's veins: the conduit. The missing link.

Was it like this when her little brother had died?

"We can go home," she told Danny. It was what mattered now. He'd have to carry her body into the portal, but by all the Ancients, they could go home.

"You died!"

"So did you!" Jazz forced her upper body upright. "Come on, Danny." If she was a ghost, why did her limbs have to ache so much? "Hey, how do you 'go human'?" A nervous laugh of pure hysteria escaped her. "I mean, I should probably check - "

Danny sucked in a large, desperate breath. Then he cracked again. Jazz ached to comfort him. She focused on the humanity of him - slipping back to life, her heart beating in her chest, the exhaustion in every one of her muscles -

The window shattered. Her elbows slipped and cracked into the floor, through the floor, and half her body followed until Danny's arms hauled her back up and pressed her to his chest. Past his shoulder she could barely see the dark shadow of one of the local bats, illuminated by the green portal light because every other light was dark. Could barely hear those affected gravely voices say, "Holy shit --? Danny? Jazz?"

"Don't come closer!" ordered Danny through the snot and tears, hauling her further upright and ready to bolt.

The sudden movement reminded her of her stomach that didn't exist anymore. Her body fought between passing out and throwing up.

And it was that: the darkness tinging her vision that forced her out of it, less a gentle slide into being alive and more like tumbling down a slope. Gravity slammed into her and forced her back down, her hair turning red again, skin going from hypothermic to pale.

"Fuck yeah, I'm not dead," wheezed Jazz, newly human and alive again, and then threw up at the mouth of the portal her death created.

"What," said the bat. "The fuck."

It just keeps getting better and better!! I ADORE IT BEING POWERED BY DEATH I DO.

I feel like the Bat that crashed in was either Bruce or Dick.

fun thing about herding and/or generally neurotic breeds: they are really good at following rules you have instituted, but they will also make their own Dog Rules they will follow stringently whether or not you like it

despite never being reprimanded for getting sick if my dog throws up she will โ€˜tattleโ€™ on herself and run over to me, show me the throw up, then hide and start shaking uncontrollably. nobody taught her to do this. she has decided that throwing up is a punishable offense until the end of time

my dog has decided that itโ€™s solely on her shoulders to ensure there is peace in my houseโ€ฆif the cats fight she stands between them to โ€˜break it upโ€™ and/or herds them away, if my rats have an argument she goes to the cage door and barks until they stop. not sure why she has decided she must carry the weight of the world but she has

A true friend is seen in times of need...

Hey so do y'all understand how revolutionary this is, if this really is what the video indicates, and it probably is since the other horseshoe crab left the moment the problem was resolved.

All of those times when humans desperately tried portraying arthropods as nothing more than mindless, worthless, inferior automata are being obliterated with the power of a thousand suns (as they should) because this horseshoe crab demonstrated empathy and altruism. And the metaphorical sun is the bright little individual that is this crab.

Still Can...

Beautiful. The composition. Colors. The lamp. The fact that the photographer managed to make the moon look GOOD (not all cameras and photographers can achieve that).

Absolutely spectacular. Ultraluminary. Yes.

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