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milliways_bar2006-12-14 01:40 pm
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Danny had a cast on his wrist. His parents and Jazz had been immensely relieved to find out he was okay when he got home, and coming up with an explanation as to why he looked like he'd taken a tumble down a cliff was easy with how trashed the town was. ("I was downtown--got hit with some of the rubble, but I'm okay.") They got him to the hospital, got his wrist in a cast, and took him home, tucking him in and babying him for a bit, before leaving him with Jazz and heading out to clean up the city--sending the remaining ghosts back into the ghost zone.
From their calls back home he and Jazz found out all the portals were clearing up.
Good.
Peace and quiet was a rare commodity indeed.
Before he could relax, however, he desperately needed a shower. He had to take a bath instead because of the cast, with his right arm in a plastic bag and rubber bands on it, to keep it dry. That was annoying.
He would've gotten into his pjs and gone to take another nap, but the bar had other plans.
As such, a lightly bruised teenage boy with wet hair, and wearing naught but a towel and a plastic-bagged, rubber-banded cast walked into the bar, still brushing his teeth distractedly with his good hand.
He blinked his eyes open. When he realized he wasn't in his hallway, he stopped brushing and went scarlet, turning to the door as it snapped shut behind him.
"I sfpill gav to sfpit!" he said to the door around a mouth full of toothpaste mange, his toothbrush still being juggled in his hand as he made sure the towel was secure so no one could see his rear. He tried to open the door and when it wouldn't, he kicked it, then started hopping because he'd hurt his toe. "No fwair!"
But of course this sort of thing would happen to him, considering his pants went clear and fell down at the most inoppurtune times on a regular basis.
Embarassment was his life.
From their calls back home he and Jazz found out all the portals were clearing up.
Good.
Peace and quiet was a rare commodity indeed.
Before he could relax, however, he desperately needed a shower. He had to take a bath instead because of the cast, with his right arm in a plastic bag and rubber bands on it, to keep it dry. That was annoying.
He would've gotten into his pjs and gone to take another nap, but the bar had other plans.
As such, a lightly bruised teenage boy with wet hair, and wearing naught but a towel and a plastic-bagged, rubber-banded cast walked into the bar, still brushing his teeth distractedly with his good hand.
He blinked his eyes open. When he realized he wasn't in his hallway, he stopped brushing and went scarlet, turning to the door as it snapped shut behind him.
"I sfpill gav to sfpit!" he said to the door around a mouth full of toothpaste mange, his toothbrush still being juggled in his hand as he made sure the towel was secure so no one could see his rear. He tried to open the door and when it wouldn't, he kicked it, then started hopping because he'd hurt his toe. "No fwair!"
But of course this sort of thing would happen to him, considering his pants went clear and fell down at the most inoppurtune times on a regular basis.
Embarassment was his life.
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There was another pop, but he kept trying until he managed to shear off a little bit of crystal in a manner that wasn't explosive.
Looking pleased with himself, he said, "Cool."
"This is--a lot harder than you--made it look," he said, as he went on, shearing off little bits of crystal with ecto.
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"I may have just a bit more experience in this, Danny."
He motions to a waitrat to order fresh drinks for both of them.
"So you told me you'd achieved a great victory. May I ask for details?"
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Do you know Ray Stanz or any of the other Ghostbusters, by any chance?" Danny asked.
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"I have met them," he says. "Ray, Peter...and dear little Maria." Loa's eyes sparkle at the memory. "Such a delightful little girl. A mind like a diamond in the noonday sun."
The waitrat scurries up. On his tray is a milkshake (presumably for Danny) and a glass of what looks like water.
That is, until it jostles a bit and breaks into a storm of iridescence.
"I take it they went to help you."
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"Maria's cute," Danny acknowledged, even though it was almost like pulling teeth for him to admit it.
"And yeah. They came to help--actually, it was more like I helped them. Gozer took the form of uh, well this giant version of a pop star that's popular in my world--that's what popped into Tucker's had when Gozer was taking form--and I held him off while they blew up the temple.
Also some kids in rockets came and helped. That part was weird. Er. Than usual. But I would have been in huge trouble without them."
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The shock of slug-based foodstuff safely in the future, the Ranger leans back and sips his drink, contemplating the sketchy overview (and the horror of Giant Pop Stars).
"Many forces coming together to draw a line against the darkness. A common theme among the universes it seems. Did these 'kids in rockets' stick around for introductions? Will they be allies in the future?"
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"Timmy. The one kid was Timmy and he stayed really quick to make sure we were okay, but he left after that. No explanations, didn't tell us how a bunch of ten year olds got rockets to fly around in. After that, he booked. We didn't get to talk to any of the others."
Little bits of crystal were chipping off now, smaller and smaller.
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The Ranger, however, is not focused on expanding Danny's culinary horizons. He watches the boy's work with quiet approval.
"I suppose they have secrets to keep. After all...I'm sure their parents would have some rather pointed things to say about their children having rocket packs in the first place, much less using them in battle."
A subtle inquiry about his parents' knowledge about his "job", perhaps?
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"And, now that you know better, you keep this a secret from them to save them worry?"
One long finger reaches out to tap the crystal. "There may be a flaw here from that ripple in the sheen. Be extra careful."
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He could have changed a lot of things then, but he hadn't. He still wasn't sure why.
"They would worry."
He took a moment to look at his little sculpture, thinking, before moving on again.
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He doesn't know the specifics about the lengths Danny has to go to to keep his secret...but he can guess.
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Like, maybe, dying?
"But I'm not one to dictate to you how you should live your life." He looks down at the nearly, completed work and nods approvingly. "Very good for your first effort."
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It was...okay, it was a vague blob, with a hole for eyes and a mouth.
"It's a ghost."
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"I see," the Ranger murmurs and picks a couple of other blocks. "You should probably take a break for a little while, but you can practice on these later."
He eyes the cast. "I'll see about getting you a practice denn'bok by the time that cast comes off."
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"Great!" A pause. "What's a denbawk?"
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Shhhhkkktttt!
Now he's holding a five-foot-long, metal staff.
"The Minbari Battle Pike," he says, handing it to Danny. "It's the traditional weapon of the Rangers. We are all trained in it...even if it's not often used in actual combat these days."
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"How long does it go? What's it made of?"
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Although heavier than a wooden staff of comperable length, it's not as heavy as one would expect something made of metal to be. But it feels solid. Not something you'd want to take a blow from at all.
"Unfortunately, tradition bars me from giving you one of your own to keep until you've mastered its use." A shrug. "But I have every confidence that you will."
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Of course, judging from the lumpy little ghost...
It was probably going to take a while.