Hey there. My buffer is still pretty thin. I'm experiencing a bit of friction when it comes to slipping back into this story, unfortunately. I might, that's a might, not a will, take a brief hiatus to restore my buffer if I get down to the quick. It probably won't come to that, but I do want to warn you that it's a possibility, especially with life being what it is. If it does happen, I will tell you in the chapter before it occurs, so that I don't seem to just spontaneously disappear, or skip a day, or what have you.
Unless you guys would prefer an altered update schedule to a hiatus? Again, it probably won't come to that, but I'm just bracing you.
Thank you for all the positive feedback on the last chapter! Why attribute things to artistic license or 'cartoon logic' when over-analyzing is so much more fun?
(Can you tell I think I'm clever?)
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Chapter 93: From the Hammock
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This was not going quite as badly as Danny had feared, but it also wasn't going as well as Danny had hoped.
Dash was looking uncertain, now, but Dale had taken his place as the chief aggressor, and Dale was... Danny had a habit of apologizing for or explaining away the behavior of his people. He liked focusing on their positive features.
Dash had a number of those. He was a leader, he was loyal to his friends, he was a team player, and, while this next was hypocritical at best, had, in the past, protected Casper High students from bullies hailing from other schools.
Dale had fewer. He acted as a sidekick for Dash, most of the time, but he was a lot meaner, and he only acted in concert with others when it benefited him directly and immediately. That didn't mean that he didn't have any positive features; he cared deeply for his younger siblings, and his cousins, but it was hard to see that right now, especially in the face of what was evolving to be a rather blatant display of sexism.
Danny was considering taking a leaf from Sam's book and throwing a shoe at him. Sam was barely restraining herself. Jazz had gone very pale. The other girls of the class had pulled back with curled lips. Most of the boys were listening with slightly opened mouths. Mr Lancer's eyes had gone huge, and he seemed to have lost his voice.
"Okay," said Danny, after a particularly vile insult sent in Jazz's direction. "That's enough." There was no call for that, for any of this. Jazz had just been trying to reason with him, she had just been trying to make it easier for him to understand.
"What, you're finally done letting girls fight your battles for you, Fenton?"
Danny smiled pleasantly. "Dale, you're an idiot for even asking that question. I'm going to remind you, again, that both Jazz and Sam could destroy you. Whether I let them fight my battles is moot. I'm certainly going to let them fight their battles."
Dale's eyes narrowed in incomprehension. "What?"
"Ancients preserve us," said Danny. "Look, you aren't going to win this battle. Heck, Tucker could probably beat you."
"I resent both that you brought me into this discussion, and that your phrasing implies that I'm the least capable of fighting out of all of us."
"But, you are."
"Yeah, but you don't have to say it. And I think that right now, you're the least capable of fighting."
Danny grinned lazily. "Wanna bet?"
"No," interrupted Dr Iceclaw.
Danny sighed, and adjusted his position. "Are you done yet, doctor?"
"I was waiting to ask you if you mind me making you a splint."
"No, of course not," said Danny.
"Stop ignoring me!" said Dale.
"Hey, Dash, I bet that someone has a football somewhere, or even a hacky-sack, and the deck is big enough. You should just try to relax."
"Relax? After that attack?"
"Why not? It happens all the time back home. I guess the real problem is that mast."
"I said, stop ignoring me!" Dale yelled, frustrated. He tried to push by Sam, who flipped him onto the floor. "What."
"Danny warned you," said Sam.
"Seriously," said Danny, closing his eyes as Dr Iceclaw started forming an icy splint around, "Dale, even freaking out about getting home would be more productive. Find something else to do."
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Clockwork was tired.
This was a feat. An impressive feat. Clockwork was the Master of Time. He had done things that were much more difficult. He was a ghost. He had no need to sleep.
"One more time, Lobo," said Themis. "How does your client know Phantom? I don't want an account of his entire day up until meeting him, just the meeting itself."
"I'm only trying to give you the context, My Lady."
Themis drummed her fingers on the table expectantly.
The advocate sighed, and then said, "He once gave Phantom directions to a lavatory when he was visiting Albion."
"Hemlock," said Themis, bored.
Hemlock stood. "My client has never been to Albion." He sat.
"Lord Clockwork, can you confirm?"
Clockwork stood to speak for himself. He did not need an advocate. "My grandson has never been to Albion, Lady Themis."
Themis nodded. "All of you who are representing clients who are citizens of Albion, come forward." After a moment of hesitation, ten ghosts floated forward. "Which of the Albionese monarchs employ your clients?"
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then, "My client has authorized me to inform you that he was coerced by the sixth King of Albion via a threat to his primary Obsession in the form of his bookstore." The other advocates booed the one who spoke.
"Astraea."
"I have already recorded it, honored grandmother."
"Good." She tilted her head. "You are all from the firm of Bloodroot and Larkspur?" Her lips thinned as no one disputed the claim. "Having heard all of your cases, the firm of Bloodroot and Larkspur are hereby banned from this and all cases sponsored by Libra for the next year and a day for advancing false claims of standing. Furthermore, you may inform your clients of my decision that none of them have standing in this case. Goodbye."
The advocates grumbled as they filed out. The year ban was really just a slap on the wrist, one that Bloodroot and Larkspur had incurred many times. Not only that, but they weren't even the first firm to be given that penalty this trial.
The number of ghosts in room had been reduced by a third. Good progress, overall. However, it would likely be over a week before they had processed everyone, and weeded out the more elaborate falsehoods and even simple cases of honest, but inappropriate claims. A person who, for example, saw Daniel regularly in one location or another, and liked him, but did not often speak to him, may wish to make an argument against those who had attacked him, but would not necessarily have the required relationship with Daniel to have standing in the trial.
This, the weeding out of those without proper standing, always seemed to drag on interminably. Clockwork would suggest a different method, but honestly couldn't think of one that would be agreed upon. He was the Master of Time, not a legal specialist, despite his mastery of loopholes, nor was he much of a diplomat. In fact, with a few exceptions, he was intensely asocial.
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Dr Iceclaw carried Danny to his hammock, and gave him instructions to stay there until assistance and transport arrived from Elysium.
(The ship was no longer moving, the loss of the mast stopping it dead in the sky.)
Danny grumbled and huffed. He wasn't pleased to be restricted to the hammock. He didn't like being stuck. Although he wasn't as much of a free spirit as Ellie and was firmly tied to Amity Park and its people, he liked to retain what freedoms he had.
Still, Dr Iceclaw intimidated him somewhat, especially with his talk of how Danny could permanently damage his ankle with this. So Danny curled up in his blankets, turning himself into a burrito, hugged his stuffed animal (he still wasn't sure what animal it was supposed to be), and sulked. Maybe he could at least get some sleep out of all this.
"You know," said Sam, sitting on her own hammock, "this isn't going to stay quiet. Once we get back home, this will spread like wildfire. Or the plague. Or something else unpleasant."
"Bad news?" suggested Tucker.
"For a lot of people it is bad news," said Jazz.
"Yeah," grumbled Danny. He looked over his shoulder, to where the rest of the class, including Mr Lancer, had gathered by the stair. He sighed. He wasn't going to get any sleep. "Look," he said waving a hand, "I get that you guys have questions. Come on over."
The class trooped over, some hesitant, some belligerent. Dale in particular had a foul expression on his face. But he also looked pensive. Like he was thinking. Hopefully, he was thinking, and not working himself into a mood or frenzy.
"Um, Jazz," said Star, "what do you mean bad news? Danny made it sound like it was, um, just a thing."
"Not everyone will take it that way," said Jazz, glancing at Dale. The boy opened his mouth, but was silenced by a glare from Sam.
"Like the Guys in White?" asked Star.
Danny inhaled sharply, and tried to sit up, but Sam pushed him back down. He hadn't been thinking about them in relation to the news of liminality.
"Heck!" he exclaimed.
"Danny?" said Mia. "What's wr-"
"The Guys in White! I wasn't- Heck! You can't tell anyone about liminality!"
"You aren't the boss of us, Fentoenail!" said Dash.
"No, I'm not, but, look, if the Guys in White or other ectologists find out that people in Amity are liminal, they'll-! I don't know. A lot of them, most of them, are completely unethical. They don't believe that ghosts are sentient, they don't believe that ghosts have feelings, and the Anti-Ecto Acts mean that they can act on that."
"The what?" asked Mikey.
"The Anti-Ecto Acts."
"I've got them on here," said Tucker. "Digital version and all, if any of you are interested."
"They say that any animate thing with more than a certain amount of ectoplasm in it-"
"-or that produces ectoplasm in any amount-" inserted Tucker.
"-counts as a ghost. That means liminals."
"But- But we're human," protested Sarah.
"Doesn't matter," said Tucker, searching his PDA for the Anti-Ecto Acts. "During the Summer that didn't happen, they chased us across the country when Danny got outed. Tried to kill me and Sam a couple of times, too."
"I knew it!" said Hannah.
"The 'Summer that didn't happen?'"
"Long story, Ricky. Long, long story." One that nobody here needed to know the details of. "But the basics are that a lunatic, an official lunatic, by the way, he was diagnosed with all sorts of mental problems, who hated Phantom and I broke out of prison, stole a ghost artifact that has since been destroyed, used it to try to take over the world, but lost pieces of it, outed me as liminal and kidnapped my family, Tucker's family, and Sam's family to force us to find the pieces."
"Forced you by..?" Mia trailed off, hesitant.
"By threatening to kill them. Pretty basic evil jerk stuff, to be honest. While that was going on, we were being chased by the Guys in White who wanted to dissect me. Or vivisect me. I was never entirely sure on that point. They were pretty vocal about it, too. Anyway, we managed to get control of the artifact, eventually, and used it to make it so that none of it had ever happened. Then we destroyed the artifact."
"You destroyed something that could let you rule the world?" asked Paulina.
"Why are you emphasizing 'you?'" asked Sam. "Is it really that hard to believe?"
"Yes," said Paulina, bluntly.
"Well, technically it was Phantom who started in on it," said Danny, "but we all broke out the hammers after he did the initial exploding. We didn't want anything to be left behind. Anyway, the point here is that if you don't want to get dissected, vivisected, or both, by crazy government scientists, don't go spreading this around."
Dash scoffed, but looked unsettled. "You're just trying to scare us."
"Nope. You'd know if I were trying to scare you. If anything, I'm just repaying a favor."
"What?" asked the blond boy, his eyebrows knitting together.
"The reason that Sam, Tuck, and I were able to get away when I was first outed was because you guys, all of you, helped us. That's how we know, we know, that you can do better than this, that you can handle this situation, that you can handle liminality. Actually," Danny said, adjusting himself in the hammock, "forget handling it. Forget dealing with it. Embrace it. Like I said, it isn't a bad thing."
"Right," said Rebecca, crossing her arms. "And you've embraced this... thing?"
Danny shrugged. "It took me a while," he admitted. "But, yes. I know that this is a massive," he waved his hands in the air, "revelation that I've just dropped on you out of nowhere," he brought his hands down, "but compared to the other stuff you've gone through in the last few days, is it really that bad? I mean, being liminal isn't going to kill you."
"Unless you tell a Guy in White," added Tucker.
"Being liminal, in and of itself, isn't going to kill you," rephrased Danny.
"Really," said Jazz, "all it does is make you more like yourself, more intensely yourself. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah," said Sam, "but the thing is that both good and bad traits and interests are magnified, so you have to watch out for the bad ones getting away from you. Like, I've always been... pushy, but after I started coming here, I started to get really pushy, and about doing things that could be dangerous, and I had to notice that before I could keep myself from doing it, which wasn't easy. It took a giant, stupid, fight with Danny for me to realize it."
"I was at fault for that, too," said Danny.
"You were the one with the legitimate grievance, though. I was just angry because you weren't doing everything I said."
"I had to work through that kind of thing, too," mumbled Tucker.
Danny was frowning now, because he hadn't thought that it was that bad. Nothing that had happened was really their fault. If anything, Desiree was to blame both times... If they were talking about what Danny thought that they were talking about, which they might not be. Then again, Danny's perspective on the whole thing was skewed. He was a ghost. Obsession was hardwired into his core, and, at this point, probably into his brain as well.
"So," said Mikey, slowly, "you said that there were good parts to this?"
"Yeah? Well, passion, being passionate, those are good things, aren't they?" asked Danny. "Clear goals, a purpose..." He trailed off. "No?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of superpowers," said Mikey.
"Oh. Yeah. Um. Not really superpowers. Just the whole, ectoplasm and Ghost Zone rules are easier to manipulate. You might wind up with some abilities, but you'd need to practice, like, a lot."
Mikey licked his lips. "Like those kids in Harmony? They didn't really show us outright, but... They did things, when they thought that no one, none of the adults, anyway, was looking. Especially the little ones. I think they assumed that we could, too."
"They did?" asked Danny, surprised.
"They what?" exclaimed Valerie, her eye twitching. Apparently this was too much for her, but...
"Valerie, you know that your suit only works for you because you're liminal, right? I mean, you got it from a ghost in the first place. I don't know the details, but, seriously, where do you think it goes when you're not using it?"
Valerie took a long, shuddering breath. "I- That's not- That's not the same."
"It is, though," said Danny. "It's in you, part of you. It's made of ectoplasm. You know it's made of ectoplasm. You have to."
"No, none of this makes sense," said Valerie. "If they were ectoplasm, they'd show up on my scanner. If this liminality stuff were true, my scanners would pick up all of you."
"Scanners like that have lower detection thresholds built in," said Jazz. "It's so that they don't pick up themselves, and ectoweapons, and stuff like that. Your detection thresholds are probably higher than our parents' detectors, too, due to the provenance of your suit."
"Provenance?"
"Well, what else should I call it?" asked Jazz, shrugging at her brother.
"Origin, maybe?" suggested Danny.
"How are you okay with this?" demanded Valerie. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.
Danny tilted his head, trying to figure out what he could say that would help Valerie. "Danielle," he said finally.
He didn't expect such a wide reaction, such a number of gasps, mutters, and exclamations, from the other students.
"What?" he asked in trepidation, resisting the urge to hide behind his blankets.
"You know Phantom's sister, too?" asked Paulina, jealousy boiling off of her, almost literally. Danny could feel the emotion, thick and heavy in the air. He was almost grateful.
Danny had been expecting Danielle to be a reference that only Valerie would get. Paulina's question was an amazing distraction. "Yes? I mean, we're friends, Phantom and I, so..." He shrugged. "He knows Jazz. It shouldn't surprise you that much."
"So, what," said Hannah, "you're going out with her, or something?"
Danny blanched, both from the disturbing mental image, and from the tripling of the jealousy in the room. That couldn't all be coming from Paulina. Could it? What the heck had Ellie been doing to them? On the other hand, Ellie was apparently healthy, and had been with his classmates long enough to leave an impression and a name with them. That meant that he would likely be seeing her soon. Yay! He loved seeing Ellie.
"No," he said. "Gosh, no. We're like- she's like- She's a friend. Just a friend. It would be like dating Jazz. That's gross. Super gross. No. Nope." He pulled his blanket over his head. "I'm done!" he said, voice muffled. "I'm done! That's too gross. Go away."
