Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had been jabbering all summer about it; a cornucopia of crooning could be found within the Fenton household as the family busied themselves with preparations. Tomorrow, a week before Danny's sophomore year began, two new "professional" ghost hunters, and long time pen pals to Jack and Maddie, would be moving down the street with their seventeen year old son.
The Deusos had originally been from some lonely town in Oklahoma and they hadn't exactly made a name for themselves like the Fentons had (even if a wide percentage of that fame was infamy) in terms of ghost hunting, but they seemed apt enough by Danny's parent's standards and apparently that was enough for them to pick up all they had, including their senior son, and move to Amity Park. Danny felt himself cringe at the thought of being uprooted from his home, his friends, like that; especially just as he was entering senior year. Ouch.
When the Deuso family finally arrived at their house, Fentons wandering outside the apartment, you immediately knew something was ... up with this family. If the large truck and ghost paraphernalia dangling out the back and windows wasn't the first thing that caught your attention, the man and woman dropping out of it were.
The woman, Mrs. Jessica Deuso, had her messy greying hair up in a bun, thick glasses framing a rather adorable older face, and looked about forty-seven, or at least in her late forties. Mr. Deuso looked rather stoic, a larger man, with a dark beard and short-cropped grey hair. The thing that struck you as odd, though, was the matching bright green hazmat suits they were sporting proudly. Danny snorted as Jazz elbowed him in the side. It wasn't like their parents didn't dress the same way.
Mr. Deuso's solemn and stoic expression crumbled with his embrace of both Jack and Maddie. Danny thought his mother would collapse on herself, caught in the crossfire of Mr. Deuso, and Jack's combined bear hug. Mrs. Deuso settled for a handshake and light peck on the cheek, smiling at Maddie warmly and apologizing for her husband's over the top behavior. Mrs. Fenton shook her head, nodding towards her own eccentric significant other, who was still attempt to out-hug his long distance second 'best bud'. (Coming only second to Vlad. Ha.) Danny and Jazz exchanged pleasantries with the couple, before wandering apart from their parents' excited chatter in search of the third member of the Deuso family.
"So, Keith, how was the trip down here? No problems, ghosts or otherwise?" Jack slapped Keith on the back fondly, drawing a smile from the otherwise quieter man. "Yeah, smooth sailing. Well, as smooth of sailing as you can get with a teenage boy jammed with all the ghost gear in the back. Speaking of which, we should probably rescue him now, poor kid probably can't get out on his own." Maddie put a hand to her mouth, giggling along with Jessica, who shook her head, a few rebellious hairs making their way out of her bun. "I swear, that boy won't speak up about anything, he'll just wait for you to realize he's in a jam."
"Literally," Keith chuckled, passing Danny and Jazz with a friendly smile before opening his truck's side door. "How you holding up back there, Carson?" Keith asked sarcastically, lifting the bags that had been stacked to the roof of the car. "Been better," a deep voice called back. Keith shook his head, turning to Danny. "Hey, son, would you do me a favor and hold these bags? You can set 'em down, just make sure they get closer to the house somehow."
Danny nodded, being handed the bag, and feeling the air escape his lungs. "Jesus, what's in this bag?" he yelped, knees trembling under the weight as he managed to waddle slowly towards the apartment. Keith whooped, the laugh ending in a wheeze as he lifted three bags at once. "Probably should take it slow with this stuff," he puffed as he made room for Carson to slip out of the truck. "It's mostly research papers. More important stuff belongs in the truck, instead of out, you know."
"I'm just surprised I wasn't tied to the roof," Carson cracked, working a kink out of his shoulder. Keith eyed him wearily and Carson shrugged, putting up his hands in defense. "I'm kidding, Daddy, I'm kidding." Danny dropped the bags just by the stairs, falling on top of them. "I'm not built for manual labor," he puffed, raising his head, tired. Keith was leading his son, apparently Carson, over to him, multiple more duffel bags and backpacks in tow. Danny swore he spotted Carson carefully placing what looked to be a guitar against the stairway.
If Danny didn't know that Keith was Carson's father, he wouldn't think they were related in the most distant of blood. Where Keith was huge, nearly a head over Danny's father and barrel chest to match, Carson was about five foot six with a skater's build. Keith stood straight up and look ready to jump into action at anytime, whereas Carson looked like he had the reaction-speed of a two-toed sloth.
The only relative similarity between the two would be their beards, even if Carson's looked ill kept, and more like a shaggy stubble if anything. However, his military cut made him look somewhat formal, brown hair neatly kept. Dark brown eyes looked indifferent to anything that was going on, if not looking annoyed. The older teen threw down two bags by Danny's feet, acknowledging him with a nod. Danny returned it; male bonding at its finest. Keith huffed as he set down four of the bulging bags. "My bones are going to turn to dust one of these days," he breathed, rubbing his back.
Carson stretched his arms above his head. "You wanna call the moving guys, now?" Carson pressed, eying his father. Keith cracked his back just as Jack made his way over, carrying two bags. "No need, that's what we're here for," he panted, gesturing at the truck, where Maddie and Jessica were lowering down a large piece of ghost hunting equipment. Maddie caught the large piece of machinery before it hit the concrete with a loud burst of air escaping her body. "Help!" she yelped, obviously struggling under the equipment. Jazz had clambered over to the pair, dropping the bag she was carrying, and basically flung herself beside her mother as they set the object on the ground. Mrs. Deuso lowered another, smaller, piece of machinery, looking just slightly ridiculous as she did so. "What's that?" Danny asked as he trotted to receive the chunk of metal.
Mrs. Deuso immediately stopped leaning off the edge of the truck. "It's an ectocommunicator that we've been working on for two years now," she replied, flashing a friendly smile. "I don't think you can hold this thing yourself, Daniel, let Carson help you." Danny shrugged off what he felt was a little bruising to his ego and waited while Mrs. Deuso waved frantically to Carson, the ectocommunicator slipping slightly in her grip. Carson wandered over by Danny, arms held up to catch his parent's machine. The machine came down more suddenly than Danny expected and he slipped from under it. Carson grunted, but slowly fell to his knees, easing the machine to the ground before falling over and gasping for breath.
Mrs. Fenton ran over to the boys, who were both laying on the floor in exhaustion. Jazz stopped wheeling the larger machine to turn and ask if everything was okay. Carson held up a thumbs up. "Golden," he wheezed. "Danny's just a total weenie." Danny whipped his head to Carson, who gave him a sleazy grin. "I'm kidding man, it's cool. You're like, what, twelve? No wonder you lost your footing." Danny felt his face heat. "I'm fifteen," he snapped. Carson managed a weak laugh, still sounding exhausted. "My bad."
Mrs. Deuso rolled her eyes, before extending a hand to Danny. "You shouldn't start talking smack in a new town, Carson, especially to your potential first friend," she chided. Carson rolled his eyes. "Mama," he groaned, pushing himself to a sitting-up position. Mrs. Deuso shook her head, tossing Carson the last bag and effectively knocking the air out of him. "Come on, boys, get a move on, it's getting dark."
Carson fell on his back as his mom walked away and looked up at Danny, a smile on his face. Danny cocked an eyebrow down at him, and the older boy rolled onto his side and sat back up. "So you're going into sophomore year, right?" Carson lifted his hand, asking for help. Danny clasped his hand and hoisted, nearly falling over as he did so; the older guy must have been made of solid rock to be so heavy.
"Yeah," Danny managed, testing the ligaments in his hand to make sure they were still in tact. Carson's eyebrows raised thoughtfully, as though pleasantly surprised. "Well, cool, then, I guess. I'll be going to the same school as you, obviously, so maybe you can make the transition easier, you know? Anything to look out for?" Carson hoisted the bag his mother had thrown over his shoulder, leaning on the other foot to support the weight. Danny blinked once, twice, before responding. "Dash. Lancer. Pretty much the entire football team," he said dumbly.
Carson snorted. "Ha. Sounds like a regular teeny-bopper tv drama. The worshipped sports team and the one wicked teacher against the underdog sorta thing." Danny looked at Carson oddly, and the older boy flinched and laughed. "Ah, sorry, yeah, I watch a lot of TV. It's easier to categorize situations in genres then to face them head on, you know?" Danny took a small step the side, away from Carson. "Not ... really?" Carson noted Danny's response and replied in kind, inching away from both the boy and the conversation. "Yeah, it's probably just me. Anyway, what's this Dash guy, he a dick?" Carson began making his way, leisurely, to his family, who were already invading their new 'home'.
Danny nodded with earnest, grabbing a bag on his way inside. "He's been harassing me since grade school."
Carson snagged what Danny assumed to be his guitar and a backpack, making a face at Danny's comment. "Wow, what a gross dude." Danny gave Carson yet another weird expression. "Gross?" Carson nodded. "Really gross. Anybody sick enough to constantly harass someone just because they're weaker is gross." Danny couldn't help but agree with that, despite its weird context. "You ever been in contact with a Dash type guy?" Danny inquired as they entered the house, families gathered in the living room and ready to unpack. Apparently the ectocommunicator, and whatever the other thing was, was going to be moved to the Fenton's house. Danny made a mental note to check how those two machines worked later tonight. He could only hope they wouldn't cause problems.
A snort brough Danny back to the conversation, and he turned to see Carson taking the stairs in twos. "I've had the displeasure, yeah," he replied, not turning to look back at Danny. "Bring what you've got upstairs, it's all mine." Danny clambered up the stairwell, stopping at the top and looking around dumbly. "Where did y-" Danny's sentence cut off with a sharp yell when Carson popped just behind the corner, shouting "BOO!" The youngest Fenton nearly fell backwards before he caught the handrail, and Carson caught him. Smiling down at the younger, Carson hoisted Danny to the top of the stairs again and looked apologetic. "Sorry, didn't mean to nearly cause your untimely demise."
The younger teen rolled his eyes. "I'm not made of glass, man. I woulda just hit my head a little harder than I would have liked," Danny dismissed. 'Or I would have just gone ghost and been fine, but whatever,' Danny thought, following Carson. "So which room is yours?" Danny asked, attempting break the tension in the air. Carson shrugged, wandering into a nearby door. He flicked on the light to reveal a small space, walls devoid of color. "I guess I'll just settle for this one. It's not like I've got a lot of stuff or anything."
Relieved to finally put down the bag he'd been carrying, Danny dropped his burden on the floor closest to the window. The room was barren save two outlets, a small closet, and a mirror. "Don't you need a bed?" Danny asked as Carson began unloading his backpack. The bearded teen shook his head. "Naw, I never liked beds, I always just got a bunch of blankets and pillows and slept on the floor," he replied, pulling out several shirts and a few pants. Danny rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the room once more. "What about a dresser?"
"Closet," Carson pointed out, jerking a thumb towards the thin door. "Don't worry about it, Danny, I don't need a lot to live." Carson leaned his guitar against the windowsill, setting his backpack beside it. "You play the guitar?" Danny inquired, unsure of what to do with himself. Did he offer help or was that too forward? He felt kind of useless just standing around. Carson noticed. "Yeah, I've played for three years. Started freshman year in hopes of doing something with my life," he joked, drawing out a comforter that was jammed in the other bag. "Can you help me fold some of this shit? You don't have to touch my underwear or nothing." Danny laughed and Carson smirked.
The two boys began rifling through Carson's possessions. In total the kid owned: a guitar, fifteen shirts, five pairs of pants, ten pairs of underwear, a sock, a comforter (Carson assured Danny that his parents had pillows in another bag), bathroom utilities, a laptop, and a mangled looking notebook that he snatched from the bag and stuffed in the closet as soon as possible. Danny looked curiously at Carson, the older teen shrugging. "Some of us got secrets." Danny snorted; boy did he understand. Confused, Carson cocked and eyebrow and Danny went back to rifling through the clothes.
"Why did you just pick up and leave Oklahoma?" Danny asked later, the two of them leaning against the wall as Carson absently plucked and tuned his guitar. The absent-minded elder stopped messing with his guitar for a moment, staring down at his fingers for a moment. Danny was about to ask if he was okay before Carson started playing again. "Beats me, my folks have always been ready to jump at things." Danny highly doubted that was the only reason, but he didn't pry. Besides, Danny barely knew Carson anyway and this was an awkward enough conversation.
If it bothered Carson, he didn't show it. "Your parents are pretty much their idols, didja know that?" Carson asked, thumbing his guitar thoughtfully. Danny shrugged and laughed once. "Hah, I don't really see my parents as incapable, don't get me wrong, but I never thought they'd be idols. It's actually pretty funny." Carson grinned back at the black-haired teen.
"Let me guess, a lot of explosions?" Danny nodded and snorted. "A lot of explosions."
Danny was getting ready for his nightly round when he saw it. It had to be at least one in the morning, everybody should have been asleep. Yet he could clearly see inside the Deuso's window, where Carson was nodding in understanding, his parents barely in Danny's view. The halfa felt a peak of curiosity, and, with a quick glance around for enemies, he turned intangible. Carson was nodding obediently to his parents, looking pretty bored, as he was handed a very old, worn book.
Danny inched closer towards the window before hissing in pain. A zap of something, maybe electricity, smacked him angrily away, as though slapping him on the wrist like a misbehaving child. "What the hell ... " Danny mumbled before looking back at the window. Mr. and Mrs. Deuso were wishing Carson a goodnight, it seemed, before heading upstairs. Carson looked slightly annoyed, book under his left arm. Danny visibly shivered when the boy's dark brown eyes flickered towards him and stayed on him for a good ten seconds. He swore he saw Carson smirk before he jumped up the stairs and disappeared into his room.
More than just a little weirded-out, Danny floated away from the house only to feel a large body from behind. "Have you taken to peeping, Welp?" a deep baritone chuckled. Danny stiffened immediately, flinging himself around only to be face to face with Skulker. The teen groaned internally. 'I was so hoping to go to bed tonight.' The larger ghost swung a fist towards the young halfa, who barely dodged. Sighing, he lunged for the mecha-ghost, resigning all hopes for a peaceful sleep.