...I'm sorry! D: Leaving this untouched for so long only to return with a badly written piece of crap- but my excuses are life and the fact that other better written ones are further down the list of the Laws.
Disclaimer: Boxed Up Fury would never have shown if I owned Danny Phantom.
3. Law of Sonic Amplification, First Law of Anime Acoustics
In space, loud sounds, like explosions, are even louder because there is no air to get in the way.
Fingers flew across the strings, gently teasing notes and trills from the instrument. With barely a thought, melodies and riffs half-formed filled her haunt, jumping from melancholy to angry and back again.
Snatches of a half-forgotten tune escaped her lips. A soft lullaby, murmured in the depths of starless nights; soaring notes plucked on the guitar a perfect complement to the wistful, almost cathedral-like vocal.
Closing aqua eyes, she reached into the corners of her mind, reaching, desperately reaching. Somewhere, in there, was the truth- how she died, why she died- all the things she had forgotten during the passage from life to death. And if she just reached out far enough, her fingers would close upon it, and it would break upon her like a wave of sound and music-
"Oi! Guitar girl! Will you shut up?"
Fiery eyes flared open, her concentration abruptly broken by the angry yell. Unconsciously, she had been playing faster and faster, louder with every second, music such an ingrained part of her that without thinking, she had continued playing, and before stilling her fingers, she recognized the tune of her only single.
Looking around, not a single ghost could be seen for as far as her eye could reach. Anger rose; that poisonous fire that flared within her so often nowadays, ever since she became an adolescent. And it was with that anger in her that she yelled, "Shut up yourself, dipstick!"
"Not everyone likes that Pariah-damned racket you call music, young brat!"
Pinpointing the direction of the call, she still couldn't see anyone- which meant she couldn't just go out there and give the dipstick a beating. Young brat-!
With an angry growl, she pulled a string on her instrument, and halfway to the horizon, an ectoplasmic glass shard shuddered and broke under the pressure of the sound wave.
The crack brought her out of her haze of anger, and she looked appraisingly at the guitar. Well, her talent was music, whatever anyone else might say; and since there wasn't any air in the Ghost Zone, wouldn't that make the sound waves carry much, much further- perhaps all the way to the ears of that irritable ghost?
A smirk grew on her face, and prepping herself, she loosed the song that had been building up in her.
"You will remember my name!"
