http://goinghost.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] goinghost.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] 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.

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-15 10:23 pm (UTC)(link)
He chuckles at that...but kindly.

"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?"

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
He grins.

"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."

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
Just wait until the Ranger introduces him to spoo.

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?"

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
A pity. It actually tastes quite good marinated in lime juice and grilled.

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?

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Parents rarely are," he agrees, making a mental note of this. "No matter the age of the 'child' involved. Mother...she did a good job of concealing it, but she wasn't exactly thrilled when I decided to join the Anla'shok. In spite of our strengths, it is the most hazardous profession in our time."

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
He gives the boy a long look.

"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."

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
"Don't they worry about you already?"

He doesn't know the specifics about the lengths Danny has to go to to keep his secret...but he can guess.

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm not sure about 'better'," he says. "The longer this goes on, the harder it will be if something happens to you that cannot be explained away."

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."

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
And thus Danny shows a potential for a rewarding career making holiday decorations.

"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."

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 02:06 am (UTC)(link)
He reaches into his robes...and pulls out a cylinder about the size of a can of biscuit dough. Loa holds it away from the table and gives it a peculiar twist-shake.

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."

[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com 2006-12-16 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
"That is its full length, I'm afraid," he says, grinning at his new student's reaction. "It's constructed using mnemonic alloys of various metals. The construction is a closely guarded secret, even today."

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."