what is UP my lads, my guys, my gals, my nonbinary pals, im alive and im back. whoever followed this "oneshot"- congrats ur an oracle becuz ive writtem chapter 2 at long last. To those who review- you keep this bird alive you sweet things. here it is, chap 2. help yerselves boys.
"Hurry up, Tucker."
A voice, snappish and feminine, drifted through the Mason's once-abandoned basement. It's owner was squeezed deep into the internal workings of the Fenton portal ship, her goth platform boots exchanged for simple black trainers, the fishnet stockings switched for black jeans.
"Alright, alright, calm down! I'm coming!"
Tucker Foley, now fifteen, scrambled over the mess of wires, scrap metal and random ecto-weapons. In his hand he clutched a strange device which beeped in protest at his rough handling. As he gingerly picked his way over the last few devices 16 year old Sam Mason slipped out of the dismantled ship, landing with a soft thump in front of the boy. She wiped her oily hands off on her plain black tee and pushed her now chest-length hair back over her shoulder.
"Are you sure this is the right thing?"
"Of course! I know where…" and then Tucker halted, the word hovering in the air like a wasp, ready to sting at any second. He swallowed, then continued. "...he... kept the thing. We know… he… hasn't been here since the… accident, so it's not like it would've been moved."
Sam warily picked up the device, which beeped even more indignantly at more contact. Violet eyes cast a critical gaze, but even she couldn't find any faults, and grudgingly she admitted it looked legitimate and that she was wrong to doubt Tucker.
"Wire it up then, Tucker."
"Ugh, why do I have to do it?" The dark skinned teen complained as he clambered up the side of the Fenton portal ship, slipping as he tried to cling onto the metal.
"Because you're the tech genius, duh!" Sam called back, and with a roll of her eyes she darted up the side of ship and pushed the struggling Tucker up and into the cockpit.
"Oi! Be gentler next time!" he yelled, but his tone was light and bantering. Sam didn't bother answering, instead finding a comfortable position on the side of the ship to listen to the sounds of Tucker wiring the Booo-merang into the Portal ship. It was almost hypnotic, the rhythmic clicks and clatters of his work echoing in the quiet basement, and for a moment Sam let herself relax….
BOOM!
A slick green shape shot through the wall of the basement and in less then a heartbeat Sam was up. She grabbed her ectogun. Cocked it. Fired. Missed. Dodged. Fired again. Green ectoplasm splattered the ground. Fired again. Again. Again.
The tiny ghost, barely more than a fanged blob, sizzled as it dissolved away into nothingness. Sam found herself taking deep, steady breaths before she clicked the safety back on and holstered the ectogun. Since Danny had… left… ghost attacks happened rarely, and when they did it was tiny little ectolings that posed little to no threat. And yet Sam and Tucker had been training for the last two years of their life to fight stronger ghosts that Danny had fought, once. Now? Well, Sam would bet good money on the GIW hiring them if they ever found out her and Tuck's mastery of ectoweaponry… and human weaponry.
Talking of Tucker… she turned and looked up to see him still finishing wiring up the Booo-merang into the Portal ship. He knew she would be able to take care of most threats alone, and so he'd continued his work. Sam began to climb the ship, the familiar pattern of the last year of climbing soothing the sparks of excitement that ran through her. After all, although the setup they'd made would hypothetically work…. Well, it was no use disappointing herself.
She swung herself into the cockpit alongside Tucker just as the last few sparks shot from the circuitry and he stood. He reached out, tapped a few buttons, and the tiny screen mounted on the side of the console lit up with dark green text.
_downloading_data_
_ecto-signature_registered_
_scanning_
They held their breath.
_ecto-signature_located_
_ :_Danny_Phantom_
They had hope.