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Johnny Jhonny in: A Christmas Calamity

A STORY/IT’S DONE!/ FOR @pjmaxsson ! Happy holidays from your @pnatsecretsanta, and apologies that this was sent out so late! (also as a PS, PJ gets his own gift in an epilogue, which will be coming soon!)

Johnny Jhonny In: A Christmas Calamity

“ARGH!”

Johnny Jhonny kicked one of the small snow piles haphazardly placed along the sidewalk. The holiday season, as with most things in Mayview, had been bizarre so far, with a mild snowstorm being followed by a mild warm front. Only a thin layer of snow remained, save for the large dirty piles left by the snowplows.

“Out of anyone I coulda gotten, I had ta’ get Isabel Guerra? That chick’s impossible to get information on!”

“Well if it’s any consolation, she probably won’t murder you if you get it messed up. Pretty sure Lisa knows I got Violet ‘cause she’s been giving me that creepy smile for the past three days. Plus, I don’t think RJ even got someone from our grade,” Ollie chimed in.

RJ nodded in agreement, their furrowed brow hidden by their hood.

“None of this would even be a PROBLEM if Mr. Garcia had handed out these assignments earlier!” Stephen cried out, waving his hands in an exaggerated motion. “THREE DAYS to deliver a Secret Santa present?! We’re gonna have to do our investigations separately!”

              The group, sans RJ, groaned at that. Gift giving for them was nothing to be taken lightly; each member of Johnny’s Gang would meticulously search for, or more often create, something for their target that would have some kind of personal connection for them, a tactic that extended to any poor fool that they got saddled with for a Secret Santa. This, of course, could take a bit of time to gather enough information to make such a gift, which the boys (and RJ) preferred doing together. That plan was now ruined thanks to Mr. Garcia sleeping through the day he was supposed to hand the slips out, on top of his continued forgetting.

              There was a nudge on Johnny’s arm, and he swerved to see where RJ was pointing. At the base of the hill they were slowly traversing down was his target, a maroon sweater barely peeking out under a stone grey jacket, mahogany hair lightly nestled at the shoulders. There’s no way Guerra wouldn’t suspect an ambush if the four of them went down, a thought Johnny saw reflected in his compadres’ eyes.

              “Go get ‘em, slugger!” whispered Stephen with a shove that was anything but soft, sending Johnny stumbling nearly a quarter of the way down the slope before he caught his footing. Halfway down the hill, Johnny stopped and gave a quick glance at his pals, who gave waves of encouragement and thumbs up as a response.

---

About three feet in, Johnny was able to gather one bit of information on Isabel Guerra:

She had really weird ideas for recreational activities.

After a few close calls, he had managed to tail her into a weird-looking cave mound. The damp walls seemed to eat up any light, as Johnny had soon found it hard to see even a foot in front of him, and the soft ground obscured any sounds he could have used to follow her. The paths were wide (he surmised that Ollie could easily walk beside him) and winding ever downward, and the bully soon realized that there were multiple sprawling paths. Johnny silently cursed himself for not charging his phone the day before. At least there would have been a small light source if he had.

The small, uneven muttering up ahead caught his attention.

“Oh geez. Oh man. D-did I go the right way? How are there so many paths? What if Mr. Max is hurt? What if that thing comes back? Ohhh…”

Slowly, Johnny crept up to the voice, hearing it fret over many things. He squinched up his eyes, trying to think. This definitely wasn’t Isabel-her voice could command the room, confidence would ooze from every sound she made.

“I can’t stay here worrying about this! Mr. Max needs me! But…”

“Who the heck’re you?”

              “WAAAUGH!”

Johnny could just barely make out the hazy shape of a boy about his age in front of him, quaking intensely. He wouldn’t have enough time to ruffle this one up, he figured. Got too far away from Guerra already. He’d have to make this quick in order to catch up to her and hopefully hear her let something slip.

“A’ight fella, this is the way it’s gonna work here. I’m feeling pretty generous t’day. Gotta make sure I get the deets on somebody real fast n’ stuff. I’m not even gonna stop ta’ beat ya’ up right now, my mood’s that good. Just tell me where the Guerra chick went.”

“Uhhh…I…don’t know who…that is..?” came the hasty reply.

“Er.. Isabel Guerra? Brown eyes, long brown hair, gray jacket? ”

“…Oh. OH!” The boy seemed to perk up a little upon hearing that. “That’s the scary girl’s name? The one from that weird dodgeball game, right?”

“Hitball, yeah, she was t’ other captain. Besides me.”

“O-oh, okay. I, uh, wasn’t paying too much attention to the game…mostly just watching Max. Ah! Are you the guy Max blocked that ball for?”

That one stung a little. If there was anything that made Johnny Jhonny uncomfortable, it’s someone taking a punishment that should’ve rightfully been his.

“Yeah…that’s me,” he said, the agitation creeping into his voice. “You gonna tell me where the girl went now, or are ya gonna stand here and waste my freakin’ time?”

“Well…I dunno where…Isabel, right? Went exactly…but if she’s in here, that means she’s going to help Max too! Which is good, because this place kinda scares me..”

Great. This kid wasn’t any help at all, Johnny thought to himself as he began to storm off. Well, as best as he could storm in this place, anyway, as the ground muffled all his footsteps.

“Uh, mister sir, you’re heading into a wall,” the boy provided helpfully right as Johnny smashed his face into a bed of dirt. “Are you able to see in here? Because it looks like you’re squinting pretty hard…”

“Oh, so you can see where yer’ goin’ in this pitch black mess?”

“A-a little, mister sir. This place has a lot of weird turns and forks and dead ends. If you can’t tell where you’re going, you could get pretty lost.”

Johnny suddenly had an idea.

“Right then, it’s settled! I can’t see a foot in fronta’ me, and yer’ too scared to fight…whatever it is you came in here fer’, so you get ta’ do the lookin’ and I’ll do the fightin’! I’ll let ya’ pay me back for it later.”

“Uh…ah…oh…kay”, came the uneasy reply. “There’s a path to your left. It’s straight for a while after that, from what I can see.”

And with that, the two set off.

---

Johnny couldn’t tell how long he’d been walking in silence for. At least with the Ed ambush a few days prior, he’d been able to gauge some method of progress by seeing just where Ed was and what he was up to. But here there wasn’t anything to see ahead of him. He could barely hear his own footsteps on the ground if he paid enough attention, but he couldn’t hear the other kid’s at all, even though with a glance he could see the kid steadily at his side.

He wasn’t scared, of course. It was just a dark silent cave, that’s all. Nothing that pathetic could scare Johnny Jhonny.

He was, admittedly, just a little creeped out. He needed something to keep his mind off of this. Besides Guerra, of course. No sense chasing Guerra with some hyped up senses that’d give him away.

“So what’s your deal, anyway? If yer’ so scared of everything, whatcha even come to a spooky cave for?” he asked.

The sad little laugh’s proximity made him jump.

“I was trying to go around with Max a little bit, to see the town again. I thought maybe I could become a little braver, maybe even help in a fight...but then a big spirit came up and grabbed him! I followed it here, but then Max dropped his bat trying to get out of its arms, and I rushed in to help and give it back to him. He can’t fight real good without it… but this is a big cave, and I can’t get the bat to him without going through it, and it’s dark and I got scared…”

Johnny stared at the kid with only the slightest expression of disbelief. “You wanna learn how to fight?”               “I have to be able to help out when he gets attacked! So I can have his back! Because that’s what friends do!”

There was a sense of conviction in the kid’s voice that wasn’t there before. A conviction immediately lost when the floor shook and a deep rumble emanated from below, if the higher pitched wailing that came from his position was anything to go by.

Once the rumbling stopped and Johnny confirmed that he could not beat the earthquake into submission, he turned and gently slapped his hand over the general area of his partner’s head. Although he missed his mouth entirely, it still worked wonders in stopping the kid’s terrified babbling.

“Tell ya what, ya picked a good day ta run into me. I’ll whip ya up into ship-shop shape so you can wallop all yer problems while I’m out nerd hunting. A’course, you’ll have to pay me back with interest…”, he said, cracking his knuckles for effect, but secretly impressed that the kid was trying to take initiative.

He was not expecting a shaky, uncertain “thank you” as a response, but it filled him with a weird sense of pride, and soon an exchange of stories began.

----

To the timid kid’s credit, he had kept his end of the bargain.

Johnny soon realized the kid was a good eavesdropper, since he mentioned that he only knew the girl for a few days. He would’ve quicker taken Isabel to be a dog person afraid of spiders than the other way around. Apparently she was close to her spider too, the one that she’d lost recently. Called it a friend. Johnny could relate; the loss of his boxer four years ago still hurt to think about somewhat. She was also Max’s friend, so of course she’d be into the freaky flipping and jumping around he did constantly. Between her and that spiky nerd dude, freaky movements seemed to be something of a requirement for being that kid’s buddy. He made a mental note to himself to practice some moves with his pals later to show him up.

Some of the facts were a bit harder to make sense of. According to him, she had come with some “scary guy with glasses” to help sort out a…evil whale frog the other day? Riding a paper horse? With the kid’s luck he probably found that weirdo history teacher that’s always wearing shades, but with the kid’s track record of jumping at the smacking sounds of Johnny’s hands, he could’ve been scared of pretty much anyone.

And if what the kid was saying was true, he had somehow managed to punch a teacher in the face for “being evil”. Not a bad start to a fighting career, even if he said that he ran and hid behind Max immediately after.

On his own side, Johnny had launched into relaying many of his and his gang’s bouts over the years, placing emphasis on each blow, duck and dodge. What started out as giving advice on which attacks are what, when people are giving them and how to take/sidestep them quickly derailed into making as great a story as possible. Johnny was just too used to framing these stories for his pals. His partner didn’t seem to mind it too much, though, and every hushed “wow” and question of what happened next only served to hype him up further. He told of turf wars and stakeouts, of the gang catching up to a group of cyclists that had bought the last of the candy that RJ had been looking forward to all week, even his battle with Ed and the Great Starch Hunt.

“’An then he gave us stars from his own pocket for beatin’ him, and Ed took off for greater quarry. Gotta meet up with him later to get RJ’s stuff back…an’ mine too, come ta think of it. Then we got thrown inta’ detention.”

“Wow, mister sir, you sure do get into a lot of adventures.”

“Whoa whoa, knock it off with the ‘mister sir’ crap, yer makin’ me feel old.”

“I don’t think you’ve told me your name though.”

“Wha-you don’t know my name? After everything I just told you?”

“S-sorry…”

“The name’s Johnny. Johnny Jhonny. Forget it and I whack ya.”

“Ah, okay mister Johnny.”

There was a small back and forth about not using “mister” and the kid’s inability to get it through his head, followed by a weird silence, until a small question piped up from the compatriot:

“So you were always good at fighting the bad guys and…other guys, huh? I hope I can be that fearless someday.”

Johnny paused. The image of an angry Jeff from a few days before surfaced in his head, mocking him for protecting his buddies and promising a permanent scar. He remembered how that ball came sailing towards his pals and how much it’d hurt them if he moved. How people kept taking shots for him that weren’t meant for them: Dimitri, Max…

…and how readily RJ and Ollie were to take them, too.

“…That ain’t it. Listen, it’s not about never bein’ scared. That Hitball game where everythin’ went nuts? I acted all brave to calm down my buds, but…I was shakin’ inside. But I took that fear and threw it right back at that little punk. You just gotta take all that terror that’s buildin’ in your chest and put it in your fists instead. Pick up all that fear those jerks put in ya and make ‘em take it back tenfold.”

“How do you do that, Johnny sir?”

The “sir” wasn’t much better, but Johnny brushed it aside for now. “Well, you know how you keep screamin’ whenever somethin’ spooks ya? Make it louder. Make it a war cry! Bellow and yell in their face and make em’ pay for makin’ that sound come outta’ your mouth! And when you think maybe you should book it, or get worried that you can’t take the fight, you think of how your friends would be in the same spot as you, and how they’d get hurt instead, and then you beat up that foe for daring to put that image in your head!”

There was a pause before he spoke again with as much mentorly conviction as he could muster.

“Ya’ don’t let those punks hurt your friends. Ya gotta stand by your pals, fight by their side, so they don’t take blows that ain’t their due.”

“Because that’s what friends do.”

“Exactly.”

A few seconds passed without any words. Johnny then piped up again.

“Y’know, I don’t think you ever told me your name neither.”

“Oh. Uhm..it’s PJ. I’m PJ.”

Johnny couldn’t really see the kid’s face at all, but he could feel the smile from where he was standing. Or maybe that was just the small smile creeping up on his own face. He wasn’t sure, but the area felt calmer, the silence almost welcoming.

That didn’t last.

Another rumble cut through the air, and the quakes nearly threw the bully to the ground. Then another noise, just loud enough for Johnny to make out, bellowed from below.

“KKKKKKKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“That’s the spirit that got mister Max! It’s close!” shouted PJ before a third rumble sounded. Johnny felt loose soil fall into his hair and vigorously ran his hands through his ‘do. He wasn’t exactly sure what a “spirit” meant, or what could’ve possibly made that noise, but it wasn’t going to stop him from following Guerra. He charged ahead.

Straight into a wall of dirt.

“Ahh! The path is blocked off! It must have touched the soil again!”

“Wha..?” came the muffled reply.

“The spirit can touch things! It moved the soil around earlier when I was making my way in!”

Johnny felt hands on his shoulders for a brief moment before he was catapulted backwards. His hands quickly found soft fabric and the two sped away back up the hallway, swerving and curving to avoid pieces of the ceiling falling down around them. The tremors intensified, and Johnny swung back, bracing himself to punch an enemy he couldn’t see.

KLANG!!

It took a minute for his ears to stop screaming at him, but the vibrations underneath him seemed to halt. His foot slipped for half a second over a pit that he didn’t think was there before. As the ringing subsided, his head pieced together what that noise could have been.

“Hehey, that sounded like a solid hit! Looks like ya got more punch than ya thought, lil slugger!”

“Uh…I didn’t actually swing at it…it came up from underneath me and hit the bat with its face…”

“A solid hold then. You held the bat steady while it came at ya.”

“I was more frozen in fear…”

“Dude, take the compliment before I shove it down your throat hole.”

“OK, Johnny sir.”

“NO, it’s just—you don’t have ta—ah, forget it.”

Johnny turned back and felt around the edges of the hole with his shoe. Whatever came up from the ground was huge, as it took him a while to find a part of the soft earth that wasn’t sloping into the pit. He had half a mind to try throwing something in it to hear how deep it went, but the way the ground was, he wouldn’t be able to hear how far something went anyway.

With no other options, the two started backtracking farther up the cave.

---

“Hey, come ta think of it…PJ, are you in your pajamas?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.”

“Why’d you come down here in your pajamas when it’s this cold out? You lookin’ to catch a flu or something?”

“I can’t really…touch anything unless it’s possessed. …or a spirit… …or Max…or people with special powers.”

“Whaddya mean you can’t touch things? You’re holding Max’s bat. You just touched me like five minutes ago!”

“This is Max’s special weapon with special powers! I can touch it because it’s full of magic.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t no freaky jumpin’ wizard with wizard tools, and ya touched me, so there. What the heck are you talking about with ‘spirits’ anyway? You saying this cave is full of ghosts or something?”

“I don’t think spirits are the same thing as ghosts… they’re weird. They can be really big, or small, and they all have powers, and they can have legs.”

“Ha! Now I know yer’ bluffin’! Stephen told me that ghosts look like super see-through people with a faint bluish tint on ‘em. Only the ones from other places don’t got feet.”

There was an awkward silence. Johnny couldn’t see the face of his partner beside him, but he could tell that the look on his face was one of confusion.

“…You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

Before Johnny could ask him what the heck that was supposed to mean, the rumbling returned. The large, soft chunks of dirt rained down on Johnny’s shoulders, and the ground beneath him quickly lost stability. Small hills of soil quickly piled up near his feet.

The place was caving in.

Johnny quickly found PJ’s arms (though there was little need, as his hands had already found Johnny’s wrists as soon as the rumbles had begun again) and booked it back up the path. He soon found it hard to block out the burning running up his side, or his lungs crying out for air, or the urge to remove all the dirt from his hair, but the twists and turns the path soon divulged helped distract him ever so slightly.

There was only one brief stop, when two other shadows crossed their path, one yanking the other forward in a similar manner. The long hair fluttering into the other shadow’s face was a dead giveaway for Guerra, but when Johnny tried to follow her, he ran into another wall. The place must be coming down fast if he was blocked off that quickly, he thought, and scrambled back as fast as he could to get the heck out of Chrysler.

After more twists and turns and dodges, a blinding light made its presence known. Johnny raced forward, the screaming in his sides unmatched by the crumbling walls becoming more evident from the light. As the exit loomed nearer and the snowy woods came into focus, he noticed the archway begin to buckle. He forced himself forward as fast as he could muster as the shiny white window to the outside became polluted with fallen sediment. He could feel the cool air on his skin and in his lungs, soothing his aching….well, everything. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the roof give entirely. He threw both of his arms forward in desperation, only dimly realizing that the grip he’d felt on his arm had vanished.

Suddenly he felt a hard shove from behind, and everything went white.

---

Johnny lied on the ground for a few seconds, allowing the small layer of snow to soothe his burning limbs. Each inhale brought both pain and relief. Slowly, he got back up to his feet, rubbing tiny patches of nearby snow underneath his pant legs to numb them ever so slightly and surveying the ground.

For the most part, the woods looked about the same as when he had entered, though he hadn’t been paying much attention to the ground at the time. Every track in the snow looked fresh, so it hadn’t snowed any further after he had entered the cave. A massive gouge in the frozen fluff confirmed that someone had been dragged into the mound, and he could see his shoeprints from his stalking mission, his wavy treads trailing just behind a far smoother and slightly smaller boot print.

He paused, then looked around the marks again. There were only two types of prints in the snow. Unless the kid had trod over the haphazard gouge, that was one type too few.

A small gleam caught his eye, and as he registered what was giving off such a glare, his eyes widened.

Lying three or four steps away from his position was an aluminum bat.

His head quickly snapped up to the cave’s entrance. The once great gaping maw that had lead down to the damp dark underneath had been entirely filled with moist brown soil.

There was no sign of life nearby.

He tried to scream for his cave companion, but his voice flickered in and out like a match refusing to light. Within seconds he was at the cave’s entrance, frantically clawing out bits of earth, searching for an opening, his trembling legs and pinwheeling arms providing the howling his throat could not produce.

As he opened his mouth to attempt crying out a fifth time, another scream filled the area for him.

“KKKKKKKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Johnny stumbled over onto his back, scrambling back into the snow while keeping eye contact with the thing. It was a gigantic mantis, about a few heads taller than a bus, with glowing white eyes the size of the globe Mr. Garcia had in his room. A viscous purple permeated its form and gleamed in the light as if it was made of Jello, and it shimmered like some form of mirage.

It noticed him instantly. Quicker than he’d ever expect a mantis to move, it raised a violet-tinged talon and swung its biological guillotine towards him. The light streaming through the bug caused Johnny’s eyes to water, and he braced himself.

Another familiar sound struck through the air, and his ears cried out in protest.

Johnny blinked away the tears to see another purple shape floating just a few feet in front of him. While the consistency still looked around the same, this one took the form of what looked like a twelve year old kid. A squint revealed what looked to be some form of shirt with a collar and wrist cuffs. There were no sign of legs; instead, the torso tapered off to a wispy serpentine tail. As Johnny stared at the apparition with a quivering mouth and eyes wide as saucers, the purple boy struggled to retain his position. The redhead mentally shook himself and peered beyond the kid; the mantis’s front claws had locked on to the bat the kid was holding and was attempting to push it out from underneath him.

“Aaah! The spirit’s too strong! I can’t keep this up!” the ghost exclaimed as the mantis lowered its head to his eye level, chattering large mandibles that would look less out of place on an ant. Its voice sounded familiar, Johnny thought, and oh sweet merciful Punch why did it sound so familiar, it couldn’t be--

“Please, mister Johnny! Heeelp!”

Johnny glanced from the purple boy to the purple bug and back a few times, his breathing becoming more erratic. It was then that his voice finally burst through in full force.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

For a brief second, the boy turned his head just a bit to look at Johnny. He had the same glowing eyes the bug did, as well as a small curl of hair sticking from his top. A look of panic and confusion soon snapped into realization, and the boy turned back and joined in the din.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

It was barely audible above the combined noise of Johnny’s and the bug’s screams, but it was a valiant war cry nonetheless.

Through the wails, Johnny noticed the ghost slowly pushing back upwards against the mantis. The redheaded rogue shot himself to a sitting position and shoved the ghost forward, and the insidious insect buckled. The cold metal of the bat reunited with the behemoth’s face, and as it reeled backward, PJ raised his volume just a little bit, pitched his arms back, and swung the bat right into the creature’s eye. After another round of shrieking, the mantis waved one arm in front of them, and with a tepid “peh”, it retreated back into the earth.

Johnny stared at the spot the mantis had been a second ago in shock, only turning back to the ghost as it floated back in his direction.

“We did it! We beat the bad guy with …uh…violence! And friendship! And violent friendship!” PJ exclaimed as he neared Johnny, his grin somehow resting on the verge of just off-looking enough to be intimidating.

The bully tried to get up, or scramble away, or anything, but his body betrayed him. A fist slowly and haltingly tried to meet the ghost, but even that only made it halfway to its destination before stopping, the limb quaking uselessly in the air. The seconds passed as the ghost stared at the shaking fist until finally he clasped his hand around it.

Johnny’s voice failed him once again, only letting out a small squeak. He could only stare.

After a few minutes, the pajama-clad lad let out an “Oh!”

“I think that’s Isabel and Max over there!”, he exclaimed. Johnny barely managed to turn his head to see a large smoky red arrow a few yards away. “I have to hurry home too, I sort of didn’t tell Lefty where I was going again and he’s probably going to be real mad if he finds out I left.”

“Bye Johnny! Thanks for everythiiiing!” the ghost cried as he flew away.

Johnny just stared forward for a few minutes, his body completely spent. His head tried to come up with reasons for what just happened, but to no avail.

It took about ten minutes for his legs to finally work again, and as he made his way back home to complete his mission, the thoughts nagged at his mind.

He fought…something. With a ghost. He had Friendship Fused with a ghost.

He had befriended a ghost.

He shook his head back and forth to try to clear his head. He got what he needed out of the…ghost…and now it was time to put his newfound knowledge to good use.

Operation Season’s Beatings was a go.

---

All things considered, the Activity Club had a rather uneventful morning. Early patrol had consisted of dealing with one minor spirit with a compulsion to spread gift wrap everywhere, and Isaac’s small kicks of wind made quick work of the litter.

The lunch bell rang, and Isabel hurried to her locker to put away her books. The four of them had promised to eat lunch together outside and possibly share what they had gotten with the others. She thought about how Isaac would try to play it off as if he hadn’t looked at his gift yet when he had been keeping the plush ninja bunny really badly hidden in his jeans pocket all morning and grinned.

Upon kicking the locker door open, she was greeted with what looked like a shoebox with red Santa wrapping paper awkwardly balancing above her books. The spectral quickly glanced around to see if she was being watched and just barely caught a glimpse of red retreating. Shrugging it off, she grabbed her prize and headed to the schoolyard.

Unsurprisingly, Isaac was gushing about the bunny, his eyes reminding her of those “canine eye inflation disease” posters her grandfather had put up in her room. It was a well-crafted rabbit, from what she could see, and the black ninja garb combined with a small metal headband was a nice touch.

“Oh man Izzy, you’re gonna love what Max got,” Ed chirped as she plopped down beside the three.

“I’m serious, whoever told my Secret Santa about this is dead,” Max groaned as he revealed a model train set from his box. Isabel laughed heartily. “My dad is never going to stop running this thing! It’ll be puffing around upstairs until Halloween!”

“How long did it take Stephen to figure it out, by the way?” she asked Ed, who mirrored her devious grin.

“Two periods and I’m pretty sure Ollie was in on it.”

“Do I even want to know what awful fate you brought upon that fool?”

“Hey, when I told him the alien was right behind him, I wasn’t lying. And the Velcro stuck pretty well, all things considered.”

After hearing Isaac gush about the bunny some more (she recalled a scant few times where his voice reached that high of a pitch) and watching Ed reveal his gift of some art supplies and an Optimus Prime robot, the kids turned their attention to Isabel’s red box.

“The tag just says ‘Guerra!’ on it with no sender, so we’re off to a good start already”, Max said dryly as she carefully tore at the paper.

Isaac complained that he wanted to use that paper for later, so Isabel removed it carefully as to make it as whole as possible. Soon the box was bare, and the kids shot each other gleeful looks. Isabel ripped the box open.

Everyone paused. The boys shot uncertain glances at their friend, who stared at the contents with the blankest look on her face any of them had ever seen.

The box was filled with spiders of various sizes, colors and materials. Felt spiders with pom-pom bodies and googly eyes stared innocently upwards, a drawing of a spider eating a dog was taped to the side of the box, and spiders crafted with pebbles and glue stubbornly stuck to the bottom.

There were three origami spiders scattered throughout the box, each done in a different style. One of them had red eyes, saw-tooth fangs and an oddly misshapen head.

There was a handwritten note taped to the lid.

“Guerra,

I heard you lost your spider pal. Having somebody you love leave you stings something awful. So I made you a bunch of spiders that will never die on you ever. Plus to give you something to remember your friend by.

-

PS. They eat dogs”

“They didn’t even write their name on it?” Isaac murmured as Isabel picked up the red-eyed origami spider, slowly turning it in her palm.

“Izzy?” Ed asked gently as his friend traced an hourglass shape into the spider’s body. She stole a glance behind her of the red-haired idiot she’d seen earlier, propped up against a tree just within her line of sight, doing what looked like his best not to fall asleep. “You OK?”

She turned to her friends with a small smile, tucking the odd spider into the deep pocket of her jacket.

“Yeah. I’m just fine.”

And some writing prompts are out! Seeing what people make of these is going to be a blast!

Here is the Spectober writing prompt list! Again, don’t feel pressured to do every prompt, but you’re welcome to plan ahead for the month. 

The prompts are also rewritten beneath the cut

Keep reading

Prehistoric Planet Croc Ideas

So this was a thing I did on Twitter in anticipation of Prehistoric Planet. Obviously crocs (in this case meaning crocodylomorphs) were a pretty massive part of earth's fauna during the late Cretaceous, and seeing as the first season featured NONE I came to speculate which taxa could hypothetically make an appearance. Now part of the challenge for myself was to come up with a new, interesting contender every day in anticipation of the show's release, each based around the confirmed episides we had and restricted purely to taxa from the Campanian and Maastrichtian. While it took a lot of energy, I did manage to do so. Hell, halfway through they dropped the reveal of Simosuchus, which I had saved for later.

Obviously we didn't get much still, but I'll regardless post my list of candidates and ideas here, perhaps third time's the charme for a lot of these (tho for convenience I'm still ordering them by S2s episode titles). I'll also try to break them apart roughly by biome, starting with islands. PS: I'd love to hear which crocs people would have loved to see themselves. Any on this list or stuff I didn't even mention? Let me know I'm curious.

We got a shit ton of island crocs from the Cretaceous actually, which you can broadly divide into two categories. The crocodiles of the European archipelago as seen in the top row. Featuring the small, possibly shellfish eating Acynodon (art by Adramelech89), the incredibly widespread Allodaposuchus which did have some possibly semi-terrestrial forms (art by Alejandro Blanco, Aina and Agnès Amblás) and Aprosuchus, a tiny terrestrial critter from Hateg (art by @knuppitalism-with-ue). They already give a nice diversity between tiny durophages with blunt snouts, large, more traditional crocs and lanky land species.

The other island category concerns Madagascar, which had a lot of attention in season 2. Discounting Simosuchus, we got Araripesuchus tsangatsangana (art by Scott Hartman) and Mahajangasuchus (art by Mark Hallet). Both are really cool. The former is yet another smaller terrestrial species that may not actually be part of Araripesuchus, while the later is a massive, 4 meter relative of the famous Kaprosuchus that took to the water independently from all other crocs and has been nicknamed "Hippo croc" for its weird skull. Really I'd have loved to seen an episode entirely dedicated to this place.

Next up we had the badlands episode, which oh boy has a lot of contenders from the clade Notosuchia. Brace yourself.

Here again I could split these in two categories. The first is just general badland taxa. There's Ogresuchus for example, from Spain's Tremp Formation (art by Aina and Agnès Amblás). A relatively small sebecid found in a sauropod nesting site. And we all know what PhP does with baby sauropods. Or the long-necked Gobiosuchus (art by @yoofilos) from Mongolia, which may look like its related to the other ones in this category but actually is a far more ancient type of croc.

The far bigger group concerns South America's Notosuchians. ALL OF THESE are from the Bauru Group, with some even from the same single formation. You got Stratiotosuchus (again by Joschua Knüppe), a large terrestrial baurusuchid that filled the nische of mid sized carnivore in an environment shared by sauropods and abelisaurs. There's Pissarrachampsa (by Felipe Alves Elias), another baurusuchid I decided to feature because we have evidence of a nesting site that shows they only had few eggs. A great opportunity to show their tender side. Uberabasuchus (justin_an74), part of the bizzarly proportioned peirosaurids. Adamantinasuchus (by Deverson da Silva), a small, lanky Notosuchian and of course the heavily armored omnivore Armadillosuchus (by the ever talented Júlia d'Oliveira). Hell you could do a full episode just on the foodweb of the Bauru Group (Godoy et al. 2014).

Then there's swamps, which I'll just use to dump all the crocs that don't fit into the other categories.

As you'd expect, freshwater would be ideal for crocs with a more traditional semi-aquatic lifestyle, here represented by three forms. Jiangxisuchus (image by Li et al. 2014) is a paralligatorid, which are tiny crocodilians from the Cretaceous and Paleogene of east Asia. We honestly don't know what they are, some say alligator relatives, others say they are closer to crocs. But its small and cute. Then there's Roxochampsa (artist of the model I couldn't find), which looks suspiciously crocodilian but is actually a relative of Uberabasuchus from the badlands, hell it appeared in the same formation. Still, I reasoned that I'd throw it into this category because I already proposed so much for badlands (none of which came true but hey). And then there's Denazinosuchus (art by Andrey Atuchin). Again it looks deceptively like a modern croc, but is actually the last remnant of the goniopholids, crocodyliforms that were prominent animals in the Jurassic and early Cretaceous. It could have brought both taxonomic diversity nad highlighted croc resilience till the end.

When it came to picking out crocs for Oceans, it got tricky. Obviously season 2 tried to differentiate itself by being set more in the open ocean, not the coast, and true pelagic crocodiles weren't around by the end of the Cretaceous. So I had to settle for coastal animals. There's Sabinosuchus (Schiller II et al. 2016), a cousin to Sarcosuchus and, like Denazinosuchus, one of the last of its lineage. Also its from Mexico which is rarely talked about for its fossils. Rhabdognathus (Ghedoghedo) is a distant cousin, a slender snouted dyrosaur. Unlike pholidosaurs, dyrosaurs actually did really well after the KPG impact and spread around a lot, living way into the Eocene. And finally Chenanisuchus (art by artbyjrc), which like Rhabdognathus was found both before and after the impact that killed the dinosaurs.

And the final two I shall talk about, both of which I thought/hoped would appear in the North America episode. Again, there's certainly overlap, both would have just as much fit into swamps, while many others would have also suited North America. Regardless, here's Brachychampsa (Tom Parker) and Borealosuchus (Chris Masna), both iconic animals from the Hell Creek Formation. One closely allied with alligators and caimans, the other more basal with a head-shape more similar to todays crocodiles.

Now obviously there'd have been a lot more. Part of the challenge to myself was to try and be as diverse as possible, rather than just listing 10 different baurusuchids I went with only two, tried to include as much of the world as possible, etc.... There's also the fact that some really awesome taxa, Titanochampsa, Brachiosuchus and Eurycephalosuchus, all incredibly unique or interesting, were published too late to have been considered for the show. And now, in hinsight, we obviously know that with the exception of Simosuchus none of them made it in. Which is a shame, but maybe next time.

This skull looks friendly. It'd be a nice evening to sit by a fire with the skull, a cigar perched in the hole in the teeth, as they told me stories of times gone by in that soft, grandparently drawl one has when they've reached a long life and are content with where they are.

The Skull - Memento mori by Jean Morin

This is such a neat piece! I'd probably actually buy this to put it up in my place if I had the money.

Sketchy Thoughts by Jason Limon

gotta love some HLVRAI artwork.

soda!

Sprigatito, Fuecoco, and Quaxly travel into a fantasy realm.

Okay non-European tumblr, I’m gonna explain to you why ‘white’ isn’t as simple here as it is in the rest of the world

- Shades of white in Europe range from ‘freshly fallen snow’ to ‘I am frequently mistaken as being from the Middle East’

- White European is a thing. When you fill out a form, under ethnicity, there are several options for white; white British, white European, white other. Because people make that distinction

- There are Europeans who don’t class their ethnicity as their skin colour, but as their nationality. I have family who don’t think of themselves as white, they just think of themselves as Italian and don’t really give much thought to their skin colour

- People here in Britain always question if darker skinned white Europeans are ‘actually white’. I get it a lot myself. My response is always ‘well I’m not anything else, so obviously I must be’

- Despite being white, a lot of Europeans from Italy, Greece, Spain etc, don’t feel white in the traditional sense. We’re not white like white British people. We’re not white like white Americans. We’re our own white. White British is one thing. White Italian is another thing. White Greek is another, etc

- Which is why we have this notion here in Europe of ‘nationality over race’. Being white isn’t as important as where you’re from

- So this really only becomes an issue if you’re an immigrant

- So being white in Europe doesn’t save you from racial discrimination, because sure, you’re technically white, but you’re not white white. Not the right white

- Here in England, Europeans with really blatantly foreign names, such as myself, find it more difficult to get job interviews, because they take one look at our name and don’t bother reading the rest of the CV. A guy I know was actually told by his boss to reduce the pile of CVs he had by ‘chucking away any with a name you can’t fucking pronounce’

- And then even when you do get an interview, half the time you walk into the joint several shades darker than everyone else and feel like you’ve walked into the ‘Swedish supermodel’ clubhouse and you just know you’re not getting hired

This is all basic stuff and it’s very much taken for granted here. Race and ethnicity are not as clear cut, so it can be very confusing for non-Europeans to wrap their heads around. Which is fine. But I implore you to stay in your lane, because when you say things like ‘no white person anywhere in the world ever knows what it’s like to face racial discrimination’, it’s really fucking offensive to all of the European immigrants who are denied jobs, harassed by the police and beaten by racists, because foreign is foreign to these people, and they don’t give a shit if you’re technically white. So when you mean white American, say white American. 

The link between drawing and seeing in the brain

Drawing an object and naming it engages the brain in similar ways, according to research recently published in JNeurosci. The finding demonstrates the importance of the visual processing system for producing drawings of an object.

(Image caption: Brain activation patterns during object recognition and production. Credit: Fan et al., JNeurosci 2019)

In a study by Fan et al., healthy adults performed two tasks while the researchers recorded brain activity using functional magnetic resonance imaging: they identified pieces of furniture in pictures and produced drawings of those pieces of furniture. The researchers used machine learning to discover similar patterns of brain activity across both tasks within the occipital cortex, an area of the brain important for visual processing. This means people recruit the same neural representation of an object whether they are drawing it or seeing it.

As the participants drew each object multiple times, the activity patterns in occipital cortex remained unchanged, but the connection between occipital cortex and parietal cortex, an area involved in motor planning, grew more distinct. This suggests that drawing practice enhances how the brain shares information about an object between different regions over time.

How to write dynamic scenes

Here’s how you can inject some dynamics into your scenes where characters may be idling during their conversations! This is my favourite trick to use when I want to round out a scene.

Sometimes you may have a static scene in your book with characters simply sitting and chatting. So how do you make this more interesting?

The answer is to add in some dynamics!

🤔 What does that mean?

Creating dynamics in a scene means that you add some form of repetitive or changing background element throughout the scene to keep it moving, despite it being in the same spot.

For example, if you have a scene set in a restaurant with two characters having dinner, pick out an element from the setting that could create some kind of dynamic, pressure or conflict to your scene.

✍️ In a restaurant this may be:

An annoying cast of waiters circling around and offering refills

A scorching radiator by the side of the table raising temperature and shortening patience levels

A loud party of people in the background who make it difficult for your characters to understand each other

A partner’s phone buzzing on the table every other minute

A character’s personal tendencies - like fidgeting with the table cloth and eventually unthreading it, or coming close to dropping things until they shatter a glass at a high point of the scene

Think of background elements, or ways to externalise the way your characters are feeling in a particular scene can add so much life to a scene!

It also makes it feel more interesting, dynamic, and immersive, even a scene you’re writing is a simple conversation.

Whenever you find your characters having a conversation while they’re simply walking or sitting, think of whether you can externalise any of their emotions or inject some background element to make the scene more interesting!

Did you hear my first book is coming out August 15th? Pre-order it now through the [link here] or below!