Tumgik
#The jazz doctors
dustedmagazine · 4 months
Text
Music is an Essential Verb: Derek Taylor 2023
Tumblr media
Music remains, along with family, friends, and a select few venial vices, my primary daily defense against the mental erosions of spiritual malaise and existential dread. Being a humanist also means being a realist, and little looks to be different on that score in the year ahead as we continue to careen toward a bleak and self-defeating dénouement. The veil of uncertainty around what ultimately feels like inevitability redoubles the need to remain thankful for and supportive of those who devote themselves to art. Summary capsules below describe some of the sounds that kept me going in 2023.
Peter Brötzmann, Wayne Shorter, Kidd Jordan, & Charles Gayle
Tumblr media
“The trauma of my generation was what our fathers had done to the rest of the world, and so we said, ‘never again,’ and that was the whole impetus through all my life, and it still is.” ~ Brötzmann (2018)
Musician attrition and demise are dispiriting aspects of every annum, but the departure of four disparate octogenarian reedists exacted an especially steep emotional and cultural toll this year. Shorter and Jordan passed away in March, each of them leaving a rich legacy as indefatigable improviser and altruistic educator that continue influence and inspire. Brötzmann exited in June after the return of a protracted respiratory illness. Few if any can match the magnitude of his mileage and six-decade itinerary as an irrepressible, obstinately adventurous world traveler. Gayle ascended in September, an ardent, uncompromising eremite to the end. All four men left behind discographies and concert/interview footage that will leave the faithful and curious listening and marveling in perpetuity, but their collective absence still aches.
Kirk Knuffke & Joe McPhee Quartet + 1 – Keep the Dream Up (Fundacja Sluchaj)
Tumblr media
One of the manifold joys of following the output of Kirk Knuffke is anticipating who he’ll collaborate with next. The cornetist’s ears and imagination are as huge as his heart, a trait he has in common with the equally equanimous Joe McPhee. They’ve known each other for years but Keep the Dream Up is their first released collaboration and it’s an affirming alloy of their complementary creative temperaments. Longtime McPhee comrades Michael Bisio and Jay Rosen complete the quartet with bass clarinetist Christof Knoche comprising the additive on a Brooklyn studio session that captures collective creative lightning in a digital bottle. My album of the year for these reasons and more, although hopefully Joe will bring his brass to a follow-up conclave soon.
Don Byas – Classic Sessions 1944-1946 (Mosaic)
Tumblr media
Saxophonist Don Byas recorded prolifically during the 1940s. His porous sound and popular style bridged the schools of swing and bop through prowess and panache aligned with the most esteemed of post-WII tone scientists. That sustained industriousness hasn’t reflected in reliable access to his works, primarily because they’re spread across a plethora of independent labels and competing copyrights. Leave it to Mosaic Records to rectify the longstanding reissue lacuna. This long gestating collection corrals and sequences the bulk of them across ten discs, scrubbing their sound, and adding an expansive cache of rarified verité concert recordings made in a Swedish jazz fan’s residence. Indulging in one’s Byas bias has never been easier or as edifying.
Fred Anderson – The Milwaukee Tapes Vol. 2 (Corbett vs Dempsey)
Tumblr media
Patience and long-game aptitude are among music producer/archivist/advocate John Corbett’s virtues. This unexpected, but abundantly welcome sequel to an archival Anderson collection on Corbett’s long defunct Unheard Music Series took 23 years to secure commercial circulation and offers an additional hour-plus from the same gig in improved sound. Fellow AACMers Billy Brimfield and Hamid (nee Hank) Drake join bassist Larry Hayrod in bringing vibrant, detailed life to the Lone Prophet of the Prairie’s (as Anderson was affectionately known) serpentine, cerulean melodies. Corbett’s current label released a plenitude of music in 2023 (see also below) but the uncommon opportunity to hear more Anderson of any vintage makes this release worthy of independent mention.
Jason Adasiewicz
Tumblr media
Corbett vs. Dempsey also had a welcome role in Jason Adasiewicz’s return to record with two different projects. On vinyl, Roy’s World documents a 2017 Chicago studio session by the vibraphonist’s quintet originally intended as the soundtrack to a film based on neo-noir novelist Barry Gifford’s short stories. Chicago stalwarts Josh Berman, Joshua Abrams, Hamid Drake, join saxophonist Jonathan Doyle in the ensemble for a program that sounds at once fresh and nostalgic while always vital. On CD, Roscoe’s Village dispenses with band for a solo selective foray through the songbook of Roscoe Mitchell including evocative renderings of “Congliptious” and “A Jackson in Your House” that retain the composer’s essence while striking out in bold new directions.
Natural Information Society
Tumblr media
Grounded as it is in core voices of guembri, frame drum and harmonium, codification of Josh Abrams’ NIS as a jazz ensemble immediately feels reductively incomplete. All participating instruments can be active architects in the undulating, melody-laced drones that frequently form the basis of the band’s gradual, granulated improvisations. Performances are more akin to collective expeditions where a galvanizing gestalt effect is afoot; one where earned communal peaks preserve the individual power and agency of the interlocking parts. Since Time is Gravity augments this already catalytic template by incorporating a larger contingent of Chicago colleagues including tenorist Ari Brown to the equation.
Abdul Wadud
Tumblr media
A jazz-based improviser on the cello who didn’t double on other stringed instruments, Wadud was also a consummate collaborator and sideman. Magnanimity in lending his substantial talents to the projects of others resulted in a paucity of albums under his own name. By Myself from 1977 on the Bisharra label is a revelatory anomaly on that self-effacing resume. Wadud approaches the instrument as a multifaceted sound factory, plucking, strumming, and bowing, often simultaneously, to create solo tone poems steeped in personal poignancy. Gotta Groove’s vinyl reissue is a beautiful facsimile of the original album object in faithfully reconstructed fidelity.
Marion Brown
Tumblr media
Georgia-born altoist Marion Brown had a lengthy, storied career but the body of recorded work that he left behind can present difficulties in terms of ingress to its totality. Scattered across labels, years, and circumstances, much of it is either out of print or commercially unreleased. That collective relative obscurity makes a trio of releases, two on the German Moosicus label, and a third Record Store Day viny reissue of Brown’s 1970 studio duets with Wadada Leo Smith under the shared sobriquet Creative Improvisation Ensemble even more valuable. Of the former two, Mary Ann presents concert material by Brown’s quartet from a 1969 Bremen club gig in soundboard fidelity. Gesprächsfetzen & In Sommerhausen combines two more German concert snapshots, quintet, and sextet, from 1968 & 1969 with Gunter Hampel originally released on the Calig imprint. Steve McCall is a boon on drums in all three contexts.
Art Pepper – Complete Maiden Voyage Recordings (Omnivore)
Tumblr media
Art Pepper was an inveterate rake for most of his life, magnifying destructive interpersonal tendencies with drugs and frustratingly frequent acts of self-sabotage. That star-crossed propensity makes the fact that he left so much magnificent music even more miraculous. This lavish box is a fascinating compendium of the constantly competing artistic contradictions at his center, collecting a quartet gig across three nights and seven club sets in Pepper’s native Los Angeles, ten months prior to his premature passing at 56. Over half of the music is previously unreleased and the rhythm section, led by the impeccable and implacable pianistics of George Cables, gives Pepper a cumulative confidence boost that keeps him on the rails. None of it has ever sounded better.
Pan Afrikan People’s Arkestra
Tumblr media
Los Angeles of the late-1970s was an unforgiving environment for the economic necessities of orchestral jazz. The Pan Afrikan People’s Arkestra, under the nominal leadership of pianist/composer/community organizer Horace Tapscott, was a tenaciously subversive force in the face of that ruinous rule. Adopting the Immanuel United Church of Christ as an informal base of operations, the large ensemble resourcefully engaged in an ambitious series of concerts in 1979. The Nimbus label, long a Tapscott exponent and repository, released the first three entries this year in an archival subscription series collecting the voluminous results. Titles are also available individually and present the pivotal band at a performative peak with star soloists Sabir Mateen, Billy Harris, Jesse Sharps, and Robert Miranda shining just as bright as their fearless foreman.
Alan Skidmore – A Supreme Love
Tumblr media
Unexpectedly issued on Mark Wastell’s Confront label, an imprint better known for its fealty to free improvisation, this six-disc archival tribute to Alan Skidmore’s 70+ year career in music launches with the saxophonist’s 1961 radio debut and lands some seven-hours later with his intimate 2019 rendering of John Coltrane’s “Psalm.” The aural expanse between is brimming with bright moments and luminary collaborators the likes of which include Tony Oxley, Kenny Wheeler, Wayne Shorter, Dave Holland, Mike Osborne, Elvin Jones, and another dozen name drops from the top tier of improvised music. It’s a wild, illuminating ride and a sterling example of a musical memorial done right.
The Jazz Doctors – Intensive Care/Prescriptions Filled: The Billy Bang Quartet Sessions 1983/1984 (Cadillac)
Tumblr media
Billy Bang and Frank Lowe shared a bottomless fraternal bond forged through parallel traumas internalized in Vietnam and expressed by the subsequent embrace of the restorative power of improvised music. The pair of sessions (one reissued, one archival) collected on this disc epitomize their deep attachment arguably as well as any of their other numerous collaborations. Outside the cardinal duo, the Jazz Doctors never really had a stable lineup, but the quartets here embody two of their best. Both programs are loosely adherent to freebop conventions with violin and tenor saxophone combining over contrabass and drums for a potent front line. Bang and Lowe are long gone now, their shared absence making the availability of this music even more precious.
Attila Zoller & Jimmy Raney
Tumblr media
Hungarian guitarist Attila Zoller had selective affinity for other artists on the instrument, so much so that his mid-career period is seeded by fateful encounters with plectrist peers. Most prolific among these partnerships was his prudent pairing with Jimmy Raney. A popular proponent of bop-based jazz, Raney was in a similar exploratory headspace when the two joined forces on a trio of recordings for the German L + R label over a seven-year span. Concert dates from Frankfurt (’80) and Berlin (’86) find the duo spooling out lengthy dialogues that dabble in free improvisation while keeping codified melodies within reach. An earlier New York encounter (’79) explores their rapport in a studio. All three reissues on the Japanese Ultra-Vybe imprint are aces.
Steve Swell’s Fire Into Music
Tumblr media
Simultaneously emblematic of NYC free jazz in the early aughts and fiercely dedicated to resisting pitfalls of provincialism by touring generously and rigorously, trombonist Steve Swell’s Fire into Music was one of the finest quartets of its kind. Posthumously dedicated to the late altoist Moondoc, this three CD set collects a trio of small venue concerts by the band from gigs in Texas and Ontario. As with the horns, William Parker and Hamid Drake are ideally suited to the extended, expository freebop safaris that formed the ensemble’s flexible repertoire. Swell’s the leader on paper but sagely embraces musical communalism without fail.
Intakt
Tumblr media
Running a physical media imprint in the 21st century is an inherently parlous enterprise, but this steadfast Swiss label continues to evidence how it’s done. This year’s standout catalog entries include Andrew Cyrille’s Music Delivery/Percussion, the octogenarian drummer’s third solo album and first in 45-years; bassist Jöelle Leandré’s solo Zurich Concert; pianist Aruán Ortiz’s Serranías Sketchbook for Piano Trio; Beyond Dragons by the trio of saxophonist Angelika Niescier, cellist Tomeka Reid, and drummer Savannah Harris, and Ohad Talmor’s Back to the Land, a quartet-plus-guests survey that takes its compositional focus an archival workshop date by Ornette Coleman and Lee Konitz.
Ezz-thetics
Tumblr media
The appearance of the Swiss Ezz-thetics imprint four years ago raised both eyebrows and ire. Lacking access to master tapes, veteran free jazz and new music producer Werner Uehlinger sourced commercially released editions instead, employing ace audio engineer Peter Pfister succeeded by Michael Brandli to rejuvenate and refurbish the recordings, stateside copyright considerations be damned. Reaction was expeditious and polemical, but proof is in the hearing as most of the label’s dozens of releases sound better than their original incarnations. Catalog highlights this year include another round of Albert Ayler airshots including his pivotal meeting with the Cecil Tayor Trio in 1962 on More Lost Performances, Charles Mingus’ At Antibes 1960, and Ornette Coleman’s At the Golden Circle.
Fresh Sound
Tumblr media
Jordi Pujol is akin to Uehlinger in that he refuses to let his vision and ambitions as a producer be abbreviated by external opinion. In Pujol’s case it’s yielded a bountiful inventory of antiquarian titles that rights holders have shown little to zero interest in restoring to begin with. Cases in point for this year include a definitive collection of obscurando saxophonist Boots Mussulli’s works; concert and studio collections by the Count Basie alumni tandem of Al Grey and Billy Mitchell; hens’ teeth rare leader sessions by Arthur Lyman vibraphonist Julius Wechter; and a two-fer of Julliard-trained Ellingtonian Cass Harrison piano trio albums. Exciting guilty pleasures all around.
Playing for the Man at the Door
Tumblr media
As complex as he was controversial, Robert “Mack” McCormick deserves consideration in the esteemed company of other maverick cultural archivists like Alan Lomax, George Mitchell, and Harry Smith. With a preservationist purview mostly comprising Texas and bordering states, McCormick spent much of his adult life obsessively documenting and disentangling the cultural capital of the region through recordings, photography, interviews, essays, and research. Smithsonian Folkways became repository for the massive reservoir after his passing and this box is the first in what will hopefully be multiple dispatches from the same. Unreleased field recordings of Mance Lipscomb and Lightnin’ Hopkins represent the big names, but works by the likes of Hop Wilson, Cedell Davis, Robert Shaw, and a handful of others are just as persuasive. Bongo Joe Coleman’s impassioned presidential pitch closing the set will have listeners pining for a time when third party Executive Branch candidacy didn’t seem so fraught.
Joni Mitchell Archives - Vol. 3, The Asylum Years 1972 to 1975
Tumblr media
Mitchell’s continuing project corollary to her old friend Neil Young’s analogously exhaustive retrospective enterprise, this third entry in the series finds her 30-something-self further broadening the lens of her art beyond the solo concert music that dominated the first two boxes. There are stirring solitary shows here, too, but it’s the band offerings that prove most revealing, particularly in the company of reedist Tom Scott’s fusion group L.A. Express. James Taylor, Graham Nash, and David Crosby lend contributory hands, and there’s a brief but intriguing collaboration with Young alongside a trove of demos and workshop versions of songs from her first three albums for Asylum.
Martin Davidson
Tumblr media
In closing, another memorial. Martin Davidson wasn’t a musician, but European free improvisation as an art and archive would be a fraction of what it is without his copious and enduring work. As steadfast proprietor of the Emanem label he put his resources into musicians whose efforts frequently fell outside the probability of consistent commercial remuneration. Under his aegis, influential improvisers like Steve Lacy, Derek Bailey, Evan Parker, and Paul Rutherford gained robust catalogs alongside other aspiring artists who never garnered even niche cachet. Davidson was a curmudgeon and an anachronism, trusting his ears implicitly, suffering the indignities of inquiries from strangers seeking audience with the hip hop icon who shared the phonetics of his imprint’s name, and advancing the pleasures of physical media well past their purported expiration date. He was also a talented writer, adding invaluable context to his releases through first-person testimony and critique. Martin will be missed.
And as is tradition in this 20th iteration of this year-end exercise, 25 more titles in stochastic order. Thanks to all for reading, and gratitude to Jennifer Kelly for providing the forum and formatting.
Rodrigo Amado’s The Bridge – Beyond the Margins (Trost)
James Brandon Lewis – For Mahalia with Love (Tao Forms)
Henry Threadgill – The Other One (Pi)
Guillermo Gregorio – Two Trios (ESP)
Rob Brown – Oceanic (RogueArt)
Rich Halley Quintet – Fire Within (Pine Eagle)
Milford Graves w/ Arthur Doyle & Hugh Glover – Children of the Forest (Black Editions)
Mike Osborne – Starting Fires: Live at the 100 Club 1970 (British Progressive Jazz)
Jim Hall – Uniquities Vol 1 + 2 (ArtistShare)
Madhuvanti Pal – The Holy Mother (Sublime Frequencies)
V/A – On the Honky Tonk Highway with Augie Meyers & the Texas Re-Cord Company (Bear Family)
Mal Waldron & Terumasa Hino – Reminiscent Suite (Victor/BBE)
Oum Kalsoum – L’Astre D’Orient 1926-1937 (Fremeaux & Associates)
Sonny Rollins w/ the Heikki Sarmanto Trio – Live at Finlandia Hall Helsinki 1972 (Svart)
V/A – Equatoriana: El Universo Paralelo de Polibio Mayorga (Analog Africa)
Evan Parker – NYC 1978 (Relative Pitch)
V/A – If There’s a Hell Below (Numero Group)
John Coltrane – Evenings at the Village Gate (Impulse)
Derek Bailey & Paul Motian – Duo in Concert (Frozen Reeds)
Peter Brötzmann/Fred Van Hove/Han Bennink/Albert Mangelsdorff – Outspan 1 & 2 (FMP/Cien Fuegos)
Hasaan Ibn Ali – Reaching for the Stars: Trios/Duos/Solos (Omnivore)
Mark Dresser – Tines of Change (Pyroclastic)
Steve Millhouse – The Unwinding (Steeplechase)
Myra Melford’s Fire and Water Quintet – Hear the Light Singing (RogueArt)
V/A – Destination Desert: 33 Oriental Rock & Roll Treasures (Bear Family)
15 notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 2 months
Text
“I think I’m going to move to Gotham,” Jazz’s tapped away at her laptop, clicking through her college acceptance letters. Danny sat up from where he was scrolling through his phone and stared at her. “Thoughts?”
“And prayers,” he sassed. “Because you’re going to need them. Why the would you pick Gotham when Harvard accepted you?”
“Gotham has Arkham. And Doctor Quinzel.”
“Isn’t she Harley Quinn? The Crime Princess of Gotham?”
“Yeah, and an acclaimed psychologist with hundreds of published work that revolutionized the mental health field! Sure, she’s more criminally inclined now, but I’d kill to pick her brains.”
Danny grinned. “Interesting word choice. You’d fit right in. It’s just weird that all of their psychologists turned into villains.”
“Okay, but I won’t. You’d stop me.”
“Or I’d join you,” Danny rolled back onto the floor.
“Don’t you dare, Daniel Fenton. You’d better stop me if I went villain.”
“But I feel like you’d have a pretty good reason for it though?”
“I appreciate the trust, dumbass, but I’m always this close to loosing it.” Jazz rolled her eyes as she jabbed a finger at Danny.
“Hah! You’ll fit right into Gotham!”
Jazz hummed. “So, Gotham?”
“Yeah, why not?”
——
“Danny!”
“Little busy!” Danny dodged a blast from a GIW agent.
“Why’d you pick up, then?”
“You don’t call often- hey, can you guys knock it off? I’m on a call!” Danny shouted. Surprisingly the agents stopped.
“Woah. You guys actually stopped?”
“We’re anti-ghost, not rude cavemen. Finish your call, Phantom, so we can get back to capturing you.” The agent with red hair said. Her partner nodded their head.
“Riiiight.” Phantom floated away a bit. “What did you want to talk about?” He asked Jazz.
“So, Dr. Quinzel-”
Danny heard a further off “Call me Harley, darling!”
“Harley,” Jazz continued seamlessly. “Is dating Ivy, a meta! Which, totally cute and their relationship is so healthy. Goals, honestly-”
Danny heard another far off comment, “Awe, thanks, Jazzy-wazzy!”
“But long story short, they got in touch with the Justice League about the GIW and they’re getting pulled back! And disbanded! Are you fighting the agents? Can you see if they’ve got the order to pull back?”
“Wait, seriously?” Danny perked up, the exhaustion from the fight all but gone. “I’ll ask.”
Danny turned to the two agents, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Hey! Did you guys get orders to stop hunting me? I heard the Justice League got involved.”
“What? We didn’t-”
“Shit, wait, we got orders.” Her partner jabbed their phone at her.
“Fuck. This isn’t over, Phantom!”
“Yeah, yeah! Shoo!” Danny watched them peel away. “Thanks, Jazz! Maybe I’ll finally get a peaceful school year.”
“R.I.P.” Jazz solemnly intoned.
“Dead-ass.” Danny replied, just as seriously before the both of them broke. Cackling, Danny said goodbye to Jazz.
“Maybe I should get some gifts? Hm… Undergrowth has some rare plants.” Danny muttered as he flew back home.
2K notes · View notes
lonelyzarquon · 2 months
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
661 notes · View notes
nelkcats · 1 year
Text
Build a bear
Danny went to build his own teddy bear with his parents out of town, Jazz suggested that he could make them say they loved him and record it for life, which would help him when he went to college or finally decides to reveal himself to them, that idea reassured him more than it seemed.
His sister probably wanted him to have a "support bear" like her own, Bearbert, and honestly his old teddy bear was good enough, but maybe a new one with a love reminder would help.
Amity was a small town, so the build a bear shops weren't really there, at least he had found one near Jersey, it was a long drive but he was willing to convince his parents to go.
When they finally arrived at the location, using the excuse of a ghost infestation to lure them; he tried to make a recording of his parents love words but all he ends up recording is "Let's destroy that ectoplasmic scum, he's a threat" with a lot of little lengthy things about Phantom and what they would like to do to him, wich only made him sad.
The last thing that could be heard on the recording was "I just wanted them to tell me they loved me, to remember it when they tie me to that laboratory table" in frustration.
Danny decides to give up and puts the teddy back on the shelf, the manager looks at him sadly and he just pays for it, he did not wanted to cause the employee more trouble; at the end he went back to the GAV, empty-handed and trying to remind himself that his parents love him, even if their priorities are weird and misplaced.
Days later, the Waynes drag Damian into the same store, Damian grumbling the entire way that he didn't need kid's stuff.
While the demon boy complains about the uselessness of everything, Jason notices a green teddy bear, with a jumpsuit full of stars and a sign that says "Boo", it was obviously made to remind a ghost, and he was amused by the "dead" bear so he asked the manager the price, she denies and comments that it was already paid for, but the boy never took it.
More surprised than curious, Jason holds the bear in his arms, squeezing it, it was fluffy; that caused the last thing that was recorded to be played. His blood ran cold hearing what sound like a couple of crazy doctors preparing a vivisection, this in itself was terrible, but the worst part is that the boy's voice at the end, although a little damaged, implied that he was the experiment.
Reluctantly he decided to take the bear to his brothers, this is a mystery in the form of a teddy bear and they are not going to let it go. Even if it's not directly a cry for help, he recognizes incompetent parents and a dangerous situation when he sees one.
4K notes · View notes
raziraphale · 5 months
Text
"oh it's not that fourteen is the first doctor to be attracted to men he's just the first one to talk openly about it" twelve called the master his man crush... know your herstory
941 notes · View notes
too-much-tma-stuff · 11 months
Text
Neither Gone Nor Forgotten
sequel to No Body to Bury. This isn’t edited, if you find any errors feel free to let me nice, just be nice about it.
------
Planning a funeral for Danny turned out both easier, and harder, then Batman had anticipated. Easier because he wasn’t deep in grief the way he had been when planning previous funerals, and harder because, well, the person the funeral was for was still around to have opinions. Not that Danny was hard to please, he seemed happy with just about everything, but he was struggling with whether he should tell his human family and friends. He really wanted to, but he was scared.
“I don’t think they’ll understand,” Danny said, his legs dangling over the edge of the tall building he and Batman were currently sitting on, holding a milkshake Bruce had bought for him. “Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all supported me while I was still only half dead and knew. I haven’t kept entirely out of the news since starting to work with you guys and I know they’re upset I abandoned them, I’ve seen it when I check on them. There’s no way they can understand how much changes when you die, I watch over them, but Ic an never go back.
“I can’t be what they want me to be, I’m not really Danny anymore at all, and they’d want me to be what I was. They’d want me to be human, and I’m just not anymore. I would want them to think I was completely dead and gone, but they’ve seen me in the news so there’s no chance of that.”
“Hm,” Batman said helpfully. “Write them a letter, I’ll make sure it’s delivered and then they can come on your terms, or not,” He suggested, he’d found writing letters to be a lot easier. “Like a will?”
Danny cocked his head to the side as he thought about that and then nodded slowly. “That’s a good idea, thanks Batman. You’re not nearly as bad at emotions as everyone says,” The young ghost said, bumping his shoulder against Bruce’s. It made the older hero smile. He wasn’t surprised to find that Phantom was gone when he turned back towards where the boy was sitting, his small smile remained as he threw out the abandoned milkshake and went on with his patrol.
It was two days later when the letter appeared on his desk, not yet folded or in an envelope which Bruce knew was permission to read it. He appreciated that because he would have had a hard time resisting the curiosity even if it was already sealed.
Dear Sam, Jazz, and Tucker
First of all, I want to say I’m sorry. I loved you all and I didn’t run away, I didn’t want to leave you. It was the GIW, remember when I said I was a ‘who’s who of who can’t catch ghosts’? I guess I underestimated at least one of them because they finally got me. Of course it was Phantom they were trying to kill, but is anyone surprised that they failed? It was Danny who they ended up killing, and now I can’t go back.
I didn’t realize what a big difference there would be between being half dead and all dead, a little humanity goes a long way I guess. Don’t worry I’m not going to become Dan, but I can’t be Danny anymore either, just Phantom left now and while I still love you and watch over you as I am, it’s not like I can just ‘live my life’ anymore. It hurts too much to try and pretend to be alive now, and ghosts are creatures of instinct, I can’t go against the natural order of life and death and come back to you, no matter how much I love you or how much you miss me.
Batman and some of the other heroes have offered to arrange a funeral for Danny, this time there’s actually a corpse to bury after all. I won’t be there, but it’s important for both the living and the dead that the dead have a grave, a place to grieve lost life. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, if it’s too hard or you’re too mad at me still. But if you do come or ever visit I’ll feel you there and it’ll make me happy, and maybe it’ll be some closure for you? I never meant to hurt you.
I’ll still be around to protect you, I’ll protect everyone I can. That’s been my obsession since the start hasn’t it? And Jazz don’t you start, ghost’s obsessions are what keeps us here and in one piece, I don’t need therapy. And I guess that’s the heart of it isn’t it? I’m not human anymore, and I can’t pretend to be, and we wouldn’t understand each other anymore. Not really. Ghosts don’t change much though so I’ll always love you and when you die maybe we can be friends again, if you can forgive me for this.
Forever young and yours,
Phantom
 Batman read the letter and sat quietly with it for a few long minutes, thinking about it and also questioning some parts, like who Dan was. It was sad of course, but it was sweet too, and he didn’t think that Phantom’s friends would be nearly as upset with him as he thought they would be. Finally he sighed and folded it up, finding a envelope and address it to Danny’s sister since she seemed like the best one to make sure they were all there when it was opened and read. He put it in the folder to be sent out and then leaned against his desk.
“Are you really not going to come?” He asked the empty room, and after waiting for a moment wasn’t surprised when Danny stepped out from nowhere. He’d started to get a sense of when Phantom was there, untouchable and unseen.
“No, I’ll be there, but only the way spirits usually are. I won’t be there physically, just in spirit,” He said, smiling at his own pun. Batman chuckled a little and nodded.
“I understand why you don’t want them to know that, I won’t let on,” He assured. “I think you’ve done the right thing letting them know.”
Danny nodded and then vanished again, this time out through the window, properly leaving the office and Batman alone again.
Batman had the discussion with the rest of the Justice League without Phantom present so they could avoid accidental offense. Not everyone would come, not everyone could come, Batman banned a few of the more literal heroes who would not understand why they were having a funeral when Phantom was still here, even though he had actually died. But a decent amount did come, and Batman had a feeling that the ones Phantom would care about most was Bruce himself, and Diana, who was coming.
-----
When the day of the funeral came Batman and Diana stood outside the little chapel to welcome people. They weren’t technically family of course, apparently Diana was distantly through an ancestor of hers and adoption, and Bruce thought of himself as a paternal figure to Danny, besides they’d been here early setting everything up. The nice coffin was already at the front of the room, closed since it was empty with while lilies placed on top and decorating the little building along with some roses and candles.
He wasn’t particularly surprised when the first person who showed up was Danny’s big sister Jasmine Fenton driving Danny’s two friends. His parents weren’t there but Phantom had mentioned it might not be a good idea for them to come because they would probably be disruptive. Both Jazz and Tucker’s eyes were rimmed red like they’d been crying and Sam’s jaw had a stubborn set to it like clenching it was the only thing keeping her lips from trembling.
They reached the steps, Batman nodded to them and Diana gave them a sad smile. Jazz looked through the open doors, her breath hitching. “Is he in there?” She asked, pointing to the coffin.
Batman shook his head, voice soft and rough as he responded. “Phantom said he’d bring the body later, Less chance for something to go wrong and… I don’t know if it would hurt him, but I think it’s easy to see why he’d be protective of it.”
Jazz’s lip trembled and she took a deep breath, behind her Sam had wrapped an arm around Tucker who had started to cry again, turning to hide against her shoulder. “When you see him again tell him we’re not mad at him, please?” Sam said, her voice hard with repressed emotions, it almost sounded angry but there was a subtle difference.
“He’s right that we can’t understand everything,” Jazz said, biting her lip for a moment before continuing. “But after something like this he needs space, and we won’t rush him. If he needs to start a new life, we get it, everything must remind him of trauma right now, but if he ever wants to get back in touch with us. Well, I’ll love him forever too. But also tell him that he should have been more careful in that letter he wrote if any of us had been feeling suicidal his comment about being friends again after death might have been the last push we needed over the metaphorical edge-”
She was taking a deep breath to continue her lecture when Sam wrapped her other arm around Jazz’ shoulder and pulled her away. “Well we’re not, it’s fine, let’s go sit down before Tucker collapses from dehydration from all these tears.”
“I’m not going to collapse! I’m not even crying that much!” Tucker insisted, his voice audibly wet.
Batman and Diane kept their faces straight while Sam dragged them all into the little building and to seats in the front row. Then Batman’s lips twitched up in a slight smile and Diana gave a weak laugh. “I knew they wouldn’t be as angry with Phantom as he feared,” Batman said, trying to keep his amusement under control.
“What a precocious girl, a big sister through and through,” Diana agreed and sniffled a little, it seemed their grief had gotten to her a little. He understood.
Slowly more people filtered in, just other heroes now, and one young woman called Val. Sam said to let her in even though there was clearly tension there, the heroes didn’t ask.
The scheduled time of the funeral Diana and Batman went inside, closing the door after them and, since Danny hadn’t wanted a priest so Batman started to make his way to the front to start things off.
“We’re here today in remembrance of Danny Phantom, a brave young man lost to soon in the line of duty. He never should have had to join the fight so young,” Batman stumbled a little when he saw Jason slip in at the back of the chapel. He had sort of though Jason wasn’t coming, but there he was, dressed in his Red Hood get up, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Batman could tell that he was on edge, but he was here, and it would make Danny happy. He took a deep breath and carried on with his planned remarks.
When he was done he stepped down off the little podium and Jazz stepped up, pulling some queue cards out of her pocket, taking a deep breath and launching into a planned speech. She was a good public speaker, she managed to keep it together through her speech but her words were clearly very heartfelt.
It went well, a few more people spoke, by the end Batman was actually having a hard time keeping his feeling under control, he maybe should have came as Bruce Wayne so he could have cried. He kept it under control though and eventually it was time to bring the coffin out to the prepared grave. They hadn’t fully planned who would carry it because they hadn’t known if Danny’s friends and sister were going to come, but now that they were here of course they were invited to help carry the coffin.
Batman and Diana took the majority of the weight of course, but all three of them took the offer to help carry the coffin the prepared grave. They lowered it in and Superman placed the specially made vault over top that would protect Danny’s body from, well, the usual stuff super heroes had to deal with, bodies being stolen for experimentation, attempted cloning’s, resurrection but wrong, all that jazz.
Jasmin through in the first handful of dirt, then Sam, then Tucker and then the heroes joined in. When the grave started to be filled properly a lot of the heroes started to wander away, Batman approached Jason who was hanging back.
“Please stay,” He murmured to his estranged son, seeing Jason’s shoulders tense, his arms were still crossed defensively. “Phantom will be bringing his body one most of the people clear out and he’d really like to meet you. If you don’t mind, he just died, and it’s been hard on him, I think meeting you would be a comfort.” He watched with bated breath as Jason’s fingers twitched and tightened on his own arms before he nodded. Bruce breathed a subtle sigh of relief and nodded, turning back towards the grave.
Once the grave was filled and basically everyone else had either left or gone back to the little chapel to socialize, Danny finally arrived. He faded into view, seemingly almost shy, watching them both closely for their reaction. Bruce understood why, he had to carefully school his expression when he saw the state that Danny’s body was in. It wasn’t that he was dead obviously, ashen and limp, passed the stage of rigger it seemed, it was the visible injuries. He was littered with cuts and bruises, there were stull cuffs around his ankles and wrists which had clearly burned into his skin. The wound that had killed him was, well, it looked like an autopsy had been done, his chest was fully open, but Batman knew it had been done while he was still alive. It was horrific.
Batman managed to keep himself under control though his breathing sped up, Hood’s mask completely hid his face but he rocked back like he’d been struck. Danny hesitated, licked his lips a little and stepped forward.
“I can’t touch the cuffs, but I don’t want too bury him with them still on. Will you take them off for me? They shouldn’t burn you,” Danny asked Bruce.
He was about to say yes when Jason cut in, “I’m better at picking locks then him, I’ll do it.” He practically growled, stalking forward and pulling his lock picking kit out of one of the pockets on his suit. “Who did this to him,- You?” He asked softly as Danny knelt, cradling his own corps close to his chest, letting Jason kneel in front of him and take one of the limp arms to start on the cuffs. Jason hissed when he touched it, it burned a little but he breathed through it and started to pick the lock.
“It was the GIW, the ghost investigation ward. I killed the ones who did it, and the justice league helped me disband the rest of the organization and overturn the laws that enabled it,” Danny responded, his green eyes locked unblinkingly on Jason, watching him as he watched Jason work on the locks.
“Good, I’m glad their dead. That must have felt good,” He chuckled vindictively.
“I am too, but I’m more glad they won’t get to hurt anyone else. They might have gone for you if they were still able.”
“Me? Why?” Jason asked, his fingers twitching, he cursed softly when the lock pick slipped, he grumbled and started again.
“Because you died before didn’t you? The cuffs burn you because you’re not… completely alive anymore I won’t ask anything about it, I know that’s private but if you ever want to talk about it, or if you need help with the… side affects, I’d be happy to help you,” Phantom offered softly. Jason only hummed in response, he needed to process and consider that.
When the final cuff fell to the ground Danny took a deep breath and curled around himself, resting his forehead against his body’s hair. From the way his shoulders were shaking they could tell he was crying, Jason rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder, just being there for him until Phantom was ready and finally sunk into the ground. He was down there for a long time before he surfaced again, flying over to hug batman, burrowing against his chest a little while Batman patted his back gently, Jason standing by awkwardly.
“Thank you so much for doing this, and thank you both so much for coming. This really means so much to me.”
“Of course kid,” Jason said, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s soft white hair.
Batman nodded, giving Danny a gentle squeeze, “No one deserves to be forgotten.”
Tag list: @kikkobara @phlebocuffs @spikethecrazycat @spookytragedyshark @thatonegaybitch68 @stargazer-luna @fangirlnerd001 @seraphinedemort @yjfk @rosieparker1856 @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun and thank you too @your-local-idiot-savant for giving me feedback on some parts
810 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Rusty the Good Dalek -- indefinite companion aboard Clara's diner✨️
619 notes · View notes
nekohrine · 5 months
Text
david tennant
146 notes · View notes
nonbinaryphantom · 1 year
Text
there is a sufficient evidence supporting that maddie and fenton are more often than not, good parents. like ive been going on a dp rewatch (although im skipping episodes im not too interested in) and even without the episodes focusing on relationships between their parents and kids (maternal instincts, one million dollar ghost, etc).
like theres little scenes like when jazz calls down the parents in my brother’s keeper maddie is very quick to go ‘is there something with danny? do you need to talk about something?’ theres jack going to bat for danny when he thought he was in danger in girls night out. they were overprotective about jazz in the episode 13. the entire episode reality trip for the reveal nerds. even like the episode with the strongest evidence that theyre neglectful (fright before christmas) maddie rushes out to get danny when the trees attack. hell even in the one episode where danny nearly got absolutely blasted/vivesevted by maddie in masters of all time he still got through to her that he’s her son even when he has the most flimsy evidence being a family photo. like she was remarkably easy to convince that danny was her alternate universe son she had with jack who she at the time believed wanted nothing to do with her. seriously if he can convince her that then I’m sure he can prove he’s half ghost to her with enough backing.
anyways the fentons are pretty good parents and i will die on this hill
307 notes · View notes
terrestrialnoob · 4 months
Text
Keep randomly remembering that the Fenton parents are canonically anti-vaxx
51 notes · View notes
emmis15 · 25 days
Text
Bucky Barnes Jazz Bar ๋࣭ ⭑
Tumblr media
―How did you know about this place? It's 19 years old― my hand was holding hers as she led me to a huge bar with a red sign.
Everyone was dressed elegantly, forming a long line around the place, each of them in suits or dresses, elegant shoes, and shiny jewelry, making me feel out of place as I was dressed in blue jeans, a black shirt, a dark blue blazer, and normal black shoes.
Cass looked beautiful, and for the occasion, she was so herself. She wore a long burgundy red top with a black knee-length skirt, burgundy boots, a long black leather coat, and her burgundy purse where she kept the keys to my bike and my few belongings as I didn't know where we were going.
―I have friends outside the superhero world, and my last name isn't just for death threats or kidnappings; it's also for jumping the line right now― she said with a simple smile, pulling out a white card with a golden number on it and handing it to the security guard with his arms crossed against his chest.
With a simple smile, she handed a white card with a golden number on it to the security guard, who then let us pass by moving aside the rope separating the entrance from the line. Her hand never let go of mine as she guided me through the environment of red armchairs, alcohol, tables, and a stage in front of all the seating areas.
―¿What can I help you with tonight?― a waitress approached us with her uniform and a black tray with small glasses of orange liquid with orange slices inside.
―Good evening, I'm Cassidy Stark, and I reserved a table in the upstairs area; if you could take us there, it would be excellent― she sounded so serious and kind at the same time.
A bit hypnotizing the way she interacted with others, using her privileged position to get things done, something I was used to seeing her do at the complex, albeit in a disheveled manner and always with laughter in her voice.
―Follow me, Miss Stark.
The woman started walking ahead of us, guiding the way from the ground floor, which was filled with people already sitting at tables in front of the stage, having drinks or food and patiently waiting with little chatter to avoid drowning out the smooth jazz that was playing by the live bands tonight. We stood in front of some stairs a few meters from the stage against the wall. These stairs had a ribbon like the one outside but this time with a white sign hanging from the burgundy velvet that read "VIP."
―The reservation was for table 3 next to the bay, ¿right?― she asked as she looked at something on a computer.
I didn't know anything, and I was more focused on seeing the place and its mysterious and reserved aesthetics. But as I looked around and tried to read the decorative signs hanging on the walls, I heard Cass's affirmative voice along with the clinking sound of metal.
―Let's go, Buck― she pulled my hand as she climbed the stairs, leaving the waitress behind to be just the two of us along with a few others upstairs.
We had the best view of the stage, and the lights above were closer, almost as if it weren't for the warm, red lights, we would be in the dark.
―It's a new and exclusive bar because of its mysterious nature and the few reservations it allows. People outside are waiting in case there's room inside, even to stand and be with the people listening to unknown Jazz bands, indie music actually but soft from the aesthetics of the place.
―¿Why did you do this?― I asked as I looked around.
―You need to go to places with people who aren't from your environment. It's called exposure therapy, and since you said you liked jazz, well― she gave me a small smile before we sat facing each other.
―¿So it's like a date?― I asked with a raised eyebrow.
―Something like that.
I chuckled a bit, shaking my head before turning to the candlelight in the middle of the table, casting a warm glow on Cass's face.
―¿Whiskey as usual?― she asked, taking her gaze off the menu to look at me.
―Something normal. You know I don't like those trendy drinks nowadays― I looked at her with a small smile.
―You should try something new in your drinks to know that there are more things than the harshness and pain of whiskey― she left the menu as we heard the voice of a man.
We turned to see the waiter, who was dressed like the girl before, holding a notebook and a pen.
―I'll have an espresso martini, and he'll have a whiskey The Macallan 1926, please― she sounded very firm but kind, giving him a smile.
―¿For food?
―I'll have spaghetti with bolognese ragout― she sounded so good speaking Italian that I didn't think about what I wanted to eat.
They both stared at me, waiting for my response, so I stared back at the guy, trying to compose myself.
―The same as her, thanks― I said in a deep voice.
He left, and I heard Cass's laughter faintly, to the point where I also laughed a bit with her.
―¿Do you even know what you ordered?― she asked incredulously, playing with the napkins.
―No, I'm somewhat scared it might be the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life. I really hope it's delicious― I said, feeling the live music starting to play.
It was calm with light drums and a marked rhythm, with a bit of electric guitar in the background along with a guy singing into the microphone artistically. The song seemed to be about a woman, or at least that's what I thought from the way "She" was repeated.
―It's a Bolognese pasta, but the meat is cooked with milk and white wine. The noodles are a bit thicker than usual, and it's served with grated cheese on the sides― she explained with a small smile.
―It doesn't sound so bad, but the idea of meat cooked in milk and wine sounds disgusting due to the combination.
She shrugged her shoulders, staring fixedly at the stage with attention, her right hand holding her chin with her elbow resting against the table, and her left hand playing lightly with the plants on the railing.
―Your drinks and your plates, and in 5 minutes, your food will be ready― the guy brought the white plates with food and the glasses with the wine bottle.
―Thank you― Cass said, getting comfortable, waiting and watching how they left our food.
The plate was white with clean edges, and the pasta in the middle with the sauce spread nicely, with the touch of cheese on the sides slightly raising the mountain with pieces of meat and tomato randomly placed.
―Enjoy.
He left, and my girlfriend took a photo of her plate along with the glass.
―I don't understand why you do that― I said as I took a sip of my drink.
―¿What?― she asked, putting her phone down near the railings and placing the napkin on her lap.
―The photo of your food. I don't understand why you take a picture of your food.
―Because it's pretty, and I want to take a picture of it. Besides, I like posting them in my stories because it looks nice and aesthetic― she began to eat her food lightly.
―I don't understand this modern era. In my times, photos were taken of people and landscapes.
I tried to mimic the way she ate and picked up the pasta from the plate.
She shook her head while laughing before looking back and listening to the music, her foot tapping a bit against my leg, marking the beat of the song.
We spent the night until around 2 am listening to the same guy with his band, drinking a bottle of red wine and finishing the food with a strange frozen dessert that had a chocolate brownie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream prepared with champagne according to the dessert menu.
―Thank you, have a good night― the waiter left after Cass swiped her black card.
―¿Shall we, Buck?― she asked, getting up carefully and with her jacket on, along with her bag.
―¿Are you okay?― I asked, standing up.
―Just a little dizzy― she gave me a small smile.
I took her hand carefully to help her down the stairs, seeing how, despite the time, the bar was still full of new people, and the line outside had the same number of people.
―¿Why are there still so many people?― I asked confused.
―The bar is open until 5 am― Cass replied as she brushed her hair out of her face, breathing in the fresh air.
We both walked to my bike slowly, enjoying the cool spring air with the few stars in the sky.
―Buck― Cass stopped us a few meters from the bike, her hand on her chest, looking at the ground.
I thought the worst; two months ago, her "heart" had suddenly stopped while she was chatting with the guys at dinner, and she was in intensive care until this week when she finally got rid of her tube and some pills to take and eat solid things, but we were all worried. I think if Cass were to shut down right now on the street, and knowing I only have 5 minutes to get her to the complex doctors, I wouldn't mind killing people in my way to the middle of the forest far from the city just to save her.
―¿What's wrong, Doll?― I asked worriedly, placing my hand on her shoulder.
Her head lifted to look at me with her eyes before throwing herself into my shoulders and kissing me forcefully, putting her hands on my left shoulder and on my hip, smiling in the middle of the kiss.
―Thank you for giving me a very nice night; I needed to forget about my life for a moment― she whispered on my lips.
25 notes · View notes
notedgyanymore · 1 year
Text
Bruce has been going out with a remarkably intelligent woman, he doesn't know much about her past only that's she divorced and that her only child is college age, except not even that was true, after a series of odd occurrences that seemed to coincide with Maddie meeting his family, Bruce decides that enough is enough and starts to investigate the woman who he once thought was fascinating what he finds however is more horrifying than intriguing.
169 notes · View notes
doctor-direst · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
JAZZ NO
40 notes · View notes
purpleandgreen13 · 6 months
Text
It's canon that Harvey has a cassette tape of jazz music in his apartment. Most people HC him as being in into old time, romantic jazz music, the old classics like billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington etc, but what if Harvey is into some weird freaky jazz? Some odd experimental shit? You put on his headphones expecting to find some Kenny G style smooth jazz to relax to and this comes on:
youtube
41 notes · View notes
teetle-time · 3 months
Text
Time Is All We Have
A Doctor Who x Rise of the TMNT Xover interest check/story prologue because i'm losing all control of my life lmao
Quick mini-primer for where in both timelines we are:
Non-teetle fixaters, you can just watch the first few minutes of the Rise movie. Bad future timeline shenanigans wahoo! You should probably also get a feel for the regular present timeline from the show if you can, though we won't be directly interacting with it for a quite a bit. Because Reasons. :)
Non-Who fixaters, we're rolling with David Tennant Doctor The First and the companion named Martha Jones. The name similarity to the Casey Joneses makes me giggle, especially now that I've watched through the (REDACTED) episodes where she ends up with some more Caseys parallels. Those haven't happened yet for her though lmao. Frankly, she's only had a few episodes'-worth of adventures with the Doctor by this point. :)
anyway. shoutout to my brother purpletango for having this idea. i believe what i hurriedly jotted down in my notepad app went like this:
the rise movie begins, mikey gets ready to send junior back in time- -and something goes wrong. welp, the gateway's there now. may as well use it. junior gets yeeted through (and my brain is now adding the idea of leo realizing something's up and going with him) and junior (and maybe leo) land…in the TARDIS. now they gotta get back to earth (hoping they're at least in the right dimension) to find the key and stop the krang. NO PRESSURE LMFAO
with a lil tweaking to the premise that just sorta happened as i was writing, i'm now at 26k words of combined fic and notes. it has been 2.5 weeks. i am nowhere near done. help lmao
gonna be doing something a bit funky with the tardis here just to get the ball rolling. idk if it's a canon thing that can happen but if it's not then shshshshshshsh just pretend with me. take my hand
Almost exactly twelve hours prior to the moment he died, when the rest of what remained of the Resistance had been asleep and it had only been the turtles awake to keep watch, Michelangelo had looked to his big brother and said, "We can't beat them, can we?"
Last night, Leonardo had swallowed and given a slight shake of his head. "We can't."
"They've even stolen the night sky from us somehow," Michelangelo had said, lifting his gaze to the cloudless, crimson sky. "Look, there's no stars anymore."
"When did that happen?" Leonardo had asked under his breath. "We still had at least a handful last I checked…"
"Sometime since the last time we had enough peace and quiet at night to actually look up. I'd say…in the past few weeks?" Michelangelo had suggested.
There had been silence for a long moment after that, broken only by the quiet, deep breathing of the few who were left, as well as the shifting of Michelangelo's cloak as he scooted a bit closer to his brother.
Between the two of them, Leonardo and Michelangelo had enough organic fingers and toes to count everyone else who'd survived the past twenty-odd years. Then again, with only two toes on each foot, three fingers on each hand, and three organic hands left to use…well. Less than twenty wasn't exactly an army.
Casey had shifted in his sleep, eventually, mumbling something incoherent the way his mother always had.
Leonardo had swallowed.
Michelangelo had pulled his gaze back down to Earth and looked at him.
"The Krang won't give us the mercy of dying," Leonardo had said grimly. "Not if they can help it."
"They won't," Michelangelo had agreed.
"The others chose to fight with us. Humans, yokai, and mutants. Even Todd. Never would've expected him of all yokai to be so kickass, back in the day. But…this is all Casey's ever known," Leonardo had continued.
"It is."
There had been a shifting in the shadows off in the distance, then, and while it had turned out to be easily taken care of, it had still put a pause on the brothers' conversation for a bit.
When they'd gotten back, but before they'd woken the others and gotten moving again, Leonardo had nailed Michelangelo with a solemn look. "We can't avoid this forever, but Casey…"
"I know you're not talking about that thing we talked about never talking about," Michelangelo had said, raising the ridges of his brows for a deadpan look and a wry smile.
Leonardo had jabbed an elbow into his plastron with a thick snicker…but he hadn't denied it.
Michelangelo had sobered up, then. "Oh."
"Do you think you can do it?" Leonardo had asked as he'd knelt to shake April awake, pausing before he did to meet Michelangelo's eyes.
"I know I can," Michelangelo had said, remaining quiet about how 'it' would very likely be the end of him.
They'd both already known as much.
"When?"
"I-I don't know. When things look bleakest," Leonardo had tried. "If it comes down to us. If it's just you and somebody else. If…if it's just you."
Michelangelo had nodded, then put a hand on his brother's carapace. "The Krang'll get front-row seats to Earth's very own home-grown sun. And that's a Doctor Delicate Touch guarantee."
"Wouldn't expect anything less, little man," Leonardo had chuckled. "Give 'em a light show that'll have 'em running scared."
"I can fly, Leo. And 'little man' was always Raph's thing," Michelangelo had snickered, reaching down to wake Casey. "Hey, Casey, we gotta get moving. Mind waking up and reminding your sensei that I win all height contests forever, no take-backs?"
The noise had begun rousing the others, and Leonardo had scoffed. "Turning my own student against me, Mikey? Low blow."
"Nah," April had said from where she lay. "This is a low blow."
She had snapped an arm out to smack Leonardo's shin, and the rest of the survivors had woken to quiet laughter.
It had been nice.
The last moment of calm within the storm.
In the present, Michelangelo winced as the mystic energies swirling through him reached a crescendo, but still pushed further, digging his fingers into the fabric of reality and wrenching it apart.
With Leonardo wounded, everyone else outnumbered, and Krang closing in on all sides, it was definitely pretty bleak.
There was no better time to make a time gateway than when there was no time left, after all.
His heart pounded in his tympana, loudly enough he almost could have sworn it echoed, a thud-thud-thud-thud that wanted to shake him to the core.
For a moment, with the Krang bearing down on him, his brother, and his nephew, it felt like he was losing his grip.
Casey's voice managed to overpower the thud-thud-thud-thud: "Master Michelangelo, no! You're gonna-!"
He knew.
How could he not, with light cracking his skin and his scales into little flakes of dust on the wind?
But Casey…he was the future.
The best of all of them.
As long as Casey would be okay, Michelangelo could do anything. Would do anything.
He turned his head back over his shoulder for one last look.
Casey looked horrified.
Leonardo looked resigned.
There was no one else left.
(He didn't want to go.)
Michelangelo smiled and gave his family a cheeky little wink, then turned his attention to the time gateway in front of him, threw his arms out to his sides with one last heave-!
-and like Earth's very own home-grown supernova, like the very last star in the universe, he imploded into golden light.
Leonardo felt himself shatter inside as Mikey disintegrated and the time gate stabilized, but the Krang were still closing in.
"Casey, when you're done saving the world, do me a favor," he said, putting a hand on the kid's shoulder.
Casey looked up at him with wide eyes. "Sensei, don't-!"
Leonardo just smiled sadly and shifted his grip from comforting to more of a ready to throw.
He ignored the fire in his side and the trickle of blood down his plastron as he hurled Casey into the gateway. "Grab a slice-!"
"NO!"
Casey's scream was the only warning Leonardo had before the wrist-strapped grapple (standard issue, at least before Donnie had gone out with a bang) streaked back out of the portal, latched onto Leonardo's good shoulder, and yanked him off his feet.
"Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa-!"
The deafening thrum of a Krang laser and a flash of heat at his back told Leonardo exactly how he should have died, but the sensations vanished just as quickly as they'd appeared, leaving only the golden light of Michelangelo's ninpo and the silhouette a few yards away that told Leonardo where Casey was.
Leo almost let himself go limp in the rushing mass of energy as it faded from golden-orange to something more bluish-gray.
Almost.
Instead, however, he grit his teeth against the way his wound flared up and started swimming for Casey.
The light around them grew brighter with no signs of stopping.
By the time Leo reached the kid, he had to screw his eyes shut to avoid going blind.
He managed to grab Casey's hand, then wrap himself protectively around him-
-and then some kind of metal grating slammed against his carapace, his head snapped back, and he knew only darkness.
The Doctor blinked at the sudden sound of beeping. "Oh? That doesn't sound right."
"Doctor? What is it?" asked Martha.
"I'm getting an alert," said he, darting over to one of the TARDIS' monitors for a look. "An alert that there's a lifeform catapulting through the timestream almost completely unprotected- two! Two lifeforms!"
Martha blinked. "What? How did that happen?"
"I don't know, but if we want to find out, we'd best get them onboard before whatever shielding they do have is eroded away." The Doctor studied the monitor for a moment more, then slid around the console and started throwing the appropriate levers and flicking the appropriate switches. "I need to focus on getting close- would you mind peeking out the doors to make sure my aim isn't off?"
"On it!"
The Doctor grinned, then turned his focus back to steering. "Aaalright then! They ought to be coming up just ahead, maybe a smidge to our left-!"
"I see them!" Martha called. "One of them- one looks human!"
The Doctor blinked, then looked up. "Only the one?"
Martha nodded, not tearing her eyes from the window. "The other looks almost like a turtle! Except, well, it's person-sized!"
"Curiouser and curiouser," the Doctor mused. Then, looking back down at the console, "Well, I think the simplest course of action would be to just…scoop them up!"
Martha glanced his way in confusion. "What, just open the door and grab 'em?"
"Exactly. You'll want to be quick and precise," the Doctor recommended. "Good to know we're on the same page."
After a moment to process what he'd said, Martha nodded slowly. "…right."
The Doctor carefully piloted the TARDIS close, and as he watched the energy readings of the two lifeforms get close enough, he heard Martha open the door, then yelp in surprise as something hard hit the metal flooring with a clang.
"Sensei?!" squawked the thick and emotional voice of a pubescent human boy.
"Oh, my," said the Doctor, skirting the edge of the console as he jogged over for a look.
Immediately, he could tell that whatever the circumstances were that had led to the two strangers being catapulted into the timestream, they had not been pretty. Between the apocalyptic fashion and weaponry, the fact that the turtle had seemingly been curled around the boy until losing consciousness, and the sight of tear tracks on the boy's face…well, a billboard would have been less obvious.
The boy glanced between the Doctor and Martha, wide eyes quickly shifting into suspicion as he slid off "Sensei's" plastron and placed himself between the turtle and the Doctor. "Who are you? What do you want with us? Are you with the Krang?"
Huh. He sounded American.
"Krang?" asked Martha, turning to him. "Doctor, what's a Krang?"
The Doctor frowned, mulling the word over. "Krang? Krang, Krang, KrangKrangKrang… Can't say I recognize the name. Bit of a shocker, really, and somewhat worrisome."
The boy's face spasmed, confusion clearly welling up, but the door chose to remind them all that it was still open by letting a tannish cloak drift through and land next to the two newcomers.
The sight of the cloak made the boy's eyes moisten further.
Oh, dear.
"Martha, could you get the door?" asked the Doctor, shifting his voice into something a little softer as he knelt next to the two strangers.
"Oh, uh- you got it."
As Martha did exactly that, the Doctor met the boy's eyes. "I'm the Doctor. Behind you is Martha, and this is the TARDIS. I don't know what it is you're running from, whatever this 'Krang' business is, but I promise you, you're safe here."
The boy's suspicion slowly lessened, the tension in his shoulders loosening some- though, notably, nowhere near completely. "And…what's a tardis?"
"My spaceship," said the Doctor modestly. "'S how I get around. What I want to know is, how did a humanoid teenager and a turtleman with a robotic arm end up hurtling through the timestream all on their lonesome?"
At that, the boy's gaze flickered to the cloak on the ground, and his jaw hardened in that way jaws tended to do when the only other option was to sob.
"…I see," said the Doctor quietly. "While I'd like to know the specifics, pushing this sort of thing never really seems to work out well. So I won't."
"You-" The boy's voice cracked, and he tried again. "You said you were a doctor?"
"The Doctor," corrected he.
"Though I've been training as one for quite some time, myself!" Martha reminded.
The boy visibly warred with himself for a moment, then grit his teeth and pulled slightly away from the turtle's side, revealing a nasty gash that had gone clean through his shell. "Help him. Please."
Martha gasped. "Oh, God-!"
The Doctor's eyes flew wide, but then he nodded firmly. "We'll do everything we can."
15 notes · View notes
lady--katie · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
thank you for choosing ladyworld airlines and welcome to planet bass ✈️💫
after sitting on this idea for a YEAR, i finally finished it!! so... what if planet bass was shaped like a bass?!
this is what i think it would look like
(this piece was inspired by twrp and bern foster’s work on the planet bass song and poster, respectively.)
12 notes · View notes