Enough Caffeine To Kill An Elephant

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Storyboard Part 2

not to be controversial bc I know this is like…not in line with shifting opinions on fanfic comment culture but if there’s a glaring typo in my work I will NOT be offended by pointing it out. if ao3 fucks up the formatting…I will also not be offended by having this pointed out…

‘looking forward to the next update’ and ‘I hope you update soon!’ are different vibes than a demand, and should be read in good faith because a reader is finding their way to tell you how much they love it. I will not be mad at this.

‘I don’t usually like this ship but this fic made me feel something’ is also incredibly high praise. I’m not going to get mad at this.

even ‘I love this fic but I’m curious about why you made [x] choice’ is just another way a reader is engaging in and putting thought into your work.

I just feel like a lot of authors take any comment that’s not perfectly articulated glowing praise in the exact manner they’re hoping to receive it in bad faith.

fic engagement has been dropping across the board over the last several years, and yes it’s frustrating but it isn’t as though I can’t see how it happens. comment anxiety can be a real thing. the last thing anyone wants to do is offend an author they love, and that means sometimes people default to silence.

idk where I’m going with this I guess aside from saying unless a comment is outright attacking me I’m never going to get mad at it, and I think a lot of authors should feel the same way. ESPECIALLY TYPOS PLZ GOD POINT OUT MY TYPOS.

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL ASEXUALITY DAY!!

-April 6th

Here's my dream from last night because I need to share it:

We were running security for a museum that got a new exhibit. It was the Phantom of the Opera exhibit (because the story, apparently, is a real on).

Someone had broken into the building and we were, bit chasing him down, but we were cornering him. Anyway, we managed to get him cornered and escorted out of the building and to the police. I was convinced, though, that he wouldn't stay there for long.

Anyway, here's where it gets less fuzzy:

Everyone was upstairs, but my boss pulled me aside and said, "I need to go check downstairs and make sure everything is unchanged. But, I'm not going there alone. If I'm going into the creepy ass basement, someone's coming with me." Seeing as I was the only one around, I agreed.

Now, I believe in ghosts, so I was not happy about going down, no matter how much I love PotO.

So, we go down to the basement and B says that he's not only checking on things, but he needs to make sure everything is working. Red fucking flag right there, but I said "Okay."

We get to a room designed to be a dressing room. We're alone, I'm carrying a dagger and a knife, B has s notepad and pen and his phone.

I can't remember what he told me, but he handed me some papers of the desk with an approximation of, "This is Christine's diary. You know the show, yeah? All of the lyrics were taken from the actual account. This one should be Angel of Music."

Like an idiot, I took the papers from him and start singing Angel of Music. The room around me seems to change and suddenly, Christine is the one singing. She's sitting in her chair, writing as we're both singing. She's very pretty.

Just as we're at the last few lines, B stops me and says, "I saw something back there, will you peek around and check?"

I said sure and stood up, the spell broken. When I peaked around the corner, there was a man there. The room was empty and I was watching the only exit. Naturally, I screamed and he lunged. I backed up, grabbed my dagger and stabbed the guy. He didn't react. Still backing away, I grabbed my other knife and started double stabbing this guy. B just sat back. Finally, the man disappeared. Like, I blinked and he was gone. He was a ghost, which explains why there was little to no resistance when I stabbed his gut.

I went back and sat on the desk and B was looking at his phone. "I'm going to continue now," I said because I really wanted to see Christine again. I wanted to sing with her. "Please don't look at your phone. Please focus. That was scary."

"Of course." So, he put his phone away, added to the notes I didn't notice him taking.

Then I woke up.

"In any story, the villain is the catalyst. The hero's not a person who will bend the rules or shw the cracks in his armor.He's one-dimensional intentionally, but the villain is the person who owns up to what he is and stands by it."

-Marilyn Manson

The night was spent getting a proper hold of their bearings. They knew where in Japan they were, but no idea how to get back. They also had no idea on how they got there, but that was a problem for later. For now, shelter and food were to two most pressing issues.

Chuuya and Atsushi had never worked together before, so they were stumbling around each other the entire night. Atsushi had been hell bent on them finding shelter before anything else, and Chuuya was insistent on getting money first. Atsushi was willing to break a few laws to keep them safe, but he was very vocal about not hurting anyone. Chuuya was willing to break every law he could think of in order to get his way. They could both agree that they'd rather avoid working together ever again after they've gotten back Yokohama.

It's terrible, working with someone so different from yourself. Stumbling over each other and getting in one another's way. It could cost a life. It could cost many lives.

"That'd be terrible for being undercover." Atsushi said. He was still holding himself under a mask around Chuuya.

Chuuya scoffed. "Since when are we undercover?"

"Since neither of us know where we are or what's going on."

"Oh? Is that snark I hear?" Underlings who sassed him never got out of it unscathed.

He was suddenly confidant in his answer, "Yeah. What about it? You can't attack me."

Atsushi isn't Chuuya's underling. "Who says I can't?"

"The truce between our two groups." Damn it. "Besides, I could go to local law enforcement and report you for assault and battery."

"But you won't." Good point. "If you did, then you'd be alone in unfamiliar territory. When you get back, the truce would be called off and you'd have the entire Port Mafia after your head."

Atsushi didn't respond, falling back into the mask of self preservation.

Chuuya sighed. "Fine. In order to keep a low profile, we'll do things your way."

Still not saying anything, Atsushi took a step ahead of Chuuya and went in search of an abandoned building to set up a temporary base in. It was late, probably near midnight, so not many were out. Those who were out were sniffed out and avoided. Despite everything, Atsushi made himself ignore the calls for help. Getting involved would mean being seen. Being seen would do no good at the moment.

Chuuya was reluctant to follow Atsushi, but he had to admit that the kid wasn't acting at all like he expected him to. He'd expected a coward or someone who would go running to help at the first scream, but he did no such thing. The kid kept sniffing at the air as they walked, leading through back allies and staying out of light.

"I can say for certain that nothing has happened to the ADA." Atsushi spoke softly.

"What makes ya say that?" Chuuya asked. He was genuinely curious. How did this kid know anything like that? Could he determine anything about the Port Mafia?

Atsushi's eyes seemed to be glowing when he looked back at Chuuya, the gold and purple covered in an almost not-there film. Eyeshine, Chuuya noted, is a thing all cats have. Helps them see in the dark. "I haven't lost control of my Ability." Was that supposed to be a reassurance? "The President's Ability is still working, so I can confidently say that he - at the very least - is okay."

"Based off of that," Chuuya added on, "Everything should be okay with the Port Mafia, too."

These were only assumptions and they both new that.

It was quiet as they kept walking, still out of light and still away from humans. It took another thirty minutes of wandering until they found a place to hole up. It was a very rundown building, but it was still standing. It didn't seem to have any other occupants, so that was a point in their book.

The interior was as rundown as the exterior. The floors had no holes, but every other board squeaked when stepped on. The lights didn't work, so it was safe to assume nothing else did either. While there was no holes in the walls or broken windows, the place was starting to show signs of life in the graffiti and plants creeping in. The stairs leading to the second floor weren't rotted through, but enough weight would cause them to collapse. Much like the first floor, the second floor squeaked on every other step. The paint and wallpaper was peeling at the corners, and the doors were falling of their hinges.

Chuuya didn't like getting dirty. He'd spent so long living on the streets that the thought of staying in this building was barely digestible. Regardless, he picked a room on the second floor and went in. "I'll be in here for the night. Don't bother me." He doubted he'd get any sleep, but it would be a good place to think.

Atsushi nodded and left the man on his own. Part of him said it was a bad idea, but the rest of him knew that they were forced to trust and rely on each other. He choose the room next to Chuuya's and curled up in the far corner. He was used to sleeping in places like this. The cellar in the orphanage was much worse than here. Colder, too. Less bright.

~~~

The new first order of business, Chuuya decided, was to sort out his thoughts. Based on the maps of Japan he'd studied when he first joined the Port Mafia told him that Yokohama was near the Chubu Prefecture. It had once been a part of it, but had declared itself independent a long time ago. When exactly, he wasn't sure, but that wasn't a pressing thing to know at the moment.

He'd gone to bed on Friday night had woken up Friday afternoon. He had a whole week missing from his memory and that was never a good sign. At least, the best case suggested a week. Without knowing the exact date, he had no idea how big of a blank was now taking up his memory.

The next thing Chuuya did was search his person. He was fully dressed in his uniform, so that meant he had woken up and gotten dressed somewhere during the missing blank. He was still fully armed with a gun under his vest and the hidden knives on his person. His phone was in his back pocket, but was dead. His wallet was inside his coat, but he had no cash. At least he still had his gloves.

The next thing to do would be to set out a plan of action, but that would have to wait until Jinko woke up. Getting their story straight was the next pressing matter, but he was gonna let the kid get some rest. God knows they both need it.

Part 1 Storyboard