♔ trash king ♔

The Great Andromeda Galaxy

The Andromeda Galaxy, also known as Messier 31 or NGC 224, is a spiral galaxy that is approximately 2.5 million light-years away in the Andromeda constellation. The Andromeda Galaxy is the nearest spiral galaxy to our Milky Way galaxy, but not the nearest galaxy overall. The Andromeda Galaxy is also the largest galaxy of the Local Group, which also contains the Milky Way, the Triangulum Galaxy, and about 44 other smaller galaxies. Our Milky Way and the Andromeda are expected to collide in around 3.75 billion years, eventually merging to form a giant elliptical or large disk galaxy. The collision will not effect most matter in the galaxies, because space is so large most matter will only interact gravitationally. However, The Gas clouds of the the two galaxies will collide and begin to form new stars.

     Howl frowns a bit at the cheese pizza comment, not only because he finds it confusing that Danny doesn’t believe him, but also because he has no idea what pizza is. He flinches when Danny taps his birdy-forehead.

     “It’s magic,” Howl replies, once he’s human again. He curtsies. “I have to tell you that there are real wizards roaming around, yes. I’m surprised you’ve never seen one before. I am the wizard Pendragon. Nice to meet you,” he says, smiling uncharacteristically wide. 

     “So, you’re dead, then? How strange,” he says, poking Danny’s shoulder again and noticing that he’s still solid as he was before. 

     “Eh... eheh...” Rubbing the back of his neck, he says, “You know, you’re pretty fly for an old guy.” But maybe that’s just because most of the old guys he meets are either dead and trying to kill him, or alive and trying to kill him. Who knows? “Yeah... it’s a pleasure, sir.”

     Howl pokes Danny’s shoulder, and Danny flinches. “I think you get the point. Now if you could, uh... stop doing that... that’d be awesome.” He rubs the sore spot and sniffs up some blood. And then, he opens his mouth to say something, but stops before he can; something has occurred to him. The reason Howl keeps on poking him is because he’s surprised he’s tangible. “I’m not like those creeps in the movies,” he says, “but do have some pretty neat tricks up my sleeve.”

     Danny’s hand turns transparent. Reaching forward, he sticks it through Howl’s arm. “See?” He grins and wiggles his fingers. “How’s this for magical~?” He brings his hand back to his side before turning it tangible again.

     A laugh escapes Howl’s lips. Danny isn’t wrong, is he? “A bird? No, of course not!” Previously untrue, but very much true now. “I’m a wizard, not a bird. Though, that isn’t to say that I can’t be.” He morphs himself into a crow as proof, and then back into his normal Howl-y self. 

     “Yeah, and I’m a slice of cheese pizza.” Danny snickers. “Look, I know you’re not a ghost. But if you have a jet pack stored somewhere in that shirt of yours, I promise I won’t tell anyone--!” 

     When Howl turns into a bird, Danny’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “Whoa! H-How’d you do that?” He bends down and pokes the bird’s forehead. Yup, he thinks. It’s the real deal. 

     “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” he says. “All this time I’ve been playing Dungeons and Dragons, pretending to be a mighty sorcerer, and... you’re telling me there are legit ones roaming around...? Man, Tucker’s never gonna believe this!”

     Danny stares at Howl. Is he blind? Or does he just not know where he is? “Actually,” Danny says, “If this is your idea of ridiculous, I’ve got some news for you...” And it starts with, Welcome to Amity Park, the ghost capital of the Midwest!

     “Should you, though?” he asks, poking Danny’s shoulder and finding it unusually cold. He’s even more curious now.

     Stepping into the air, Danny waves his hands back and forth. It’s all very creepy. 

     His transformation rings appear around his waist. But before they can separate and turn him back into Fenton, a man drops down beside him. 

      When Ghost Boy jumps up, Kichiro lifts up on his elbows, watching green slop coat his hands. He’ll ask about it later, but right now, he’s more focused on letting him do what he has to to get that creature locked up tight. So on his companion’s cue, he ducks down, his arms flying to cover his head. He expects to hear a joyous, ‘Yeah!’ or a the vacuum noise he’d heard from the thermos before. What he doesn’t expect is exactly what happens.

      He discovers it isn’t particularly comforting to hear the guy who’s supposed to ‘know more about what’s going on than he does’ say ‘aw, c’mon’ or ‘dang it.’

      His head shoots up, concern seeping into his features. ❛ Ghost Boy…? Wha– ❜ Aaand there they go. 

                                                                   ( To space! )

     Blood drips down Danny’s belly and stains the rooftop green. The ghost narrows its five eyes at him before slashing its scythes at his face. Danny, on instinct, throws his hands out. A shield pops out from them, deflects the ghost’s blow, and then retreats back into his palms. 

          Staring at his hands, Danny breathes, “Whoa... did you see that? I totally just did that!” The ghost growls. “If I could do it again, that’d be stellar--”

     Hacking, the ghost spits up a wad of radioactive goop. The goop flies toward Danny, but he shoots it out of the air with a blast of his own ectoenergy. The ghost grows frustrated, and Danny starts to sweat. It the thermos won’t work, what is he supposed to do? Suddenly, a portal appears behind the ghost. How awfully convenient, Danny thinks.

     Cracking his knuckles, Danny takes a step towards the ghost. The ghost, in turn, takes a step back. But then it lumbers forward again. That’s no problem for Danny, though--he shoots ray after ray of energy at the ghost, until its back is pressed up against the portal. From there, it’s just a matter of kicking it in.

     Once the ghost has been sucked in by the natural portal, it collapses in on itself. Danny sighs. And then he glares at his thermos. What a piece of junk, he thinks.

     His head is spinning from the blood loss. Stumbling forward, he latches onto Kichiro’s arms to stay upright. “Hey,” he says, “uh... you’re all right, right?” His transformation rings form around his waist, but he forces them to disappear. He can’t turn back into Fenton now, not while somebody can see him. “Ugh...”

      100% alive, huh? Bittersweet, he supposes.

     Flames erupt across Danny’s face. I’m not gay! he wants to cry. But... “Next time, remind me not to save you.” He hops up. And then he fills his hands with energy. They pulse with power, and he lets them grow and grow and grow until they’re practically dripping ectoplasm onto the floor. 

     “Get down!” he says before letting his rays fly. They zoom through the air and slam into the ghost’s chest, burning it. The ghost screams in agony. Danny unclips the thermos from his belt and then presses the suction button, but...

     ...nothing happens.

     “Aw, c’mon!” He bangs on the side of the thermos. “Work, you stupid thing!” But it refuses. And the ghost recovers--roaring, it charges forward. Stumbling, Danny backs up. But he isn’t fast enough; the ghost slashes its scythe across his belly, and white-hot pain explodes across it. 

     “D-Dang it...”

      As he speaks, Kichiro can only watch, silent. And when the guy drops to the floor, he has half a mind to turn around and walk away; to completely forget about the whole thing. But his ‘tourist’ comment cements him in place. 

      Touring the Afterlife?

     “Hey, chill out, Gordon Ramsay,” he says. “You’re goin’ over the sass limit. And you really don’t wanna do that.” Just to fuck with Kichiro, Danny fills his hand with ectoenergy. It glows green. And when he shoots it at the wall, it sears a hole in it. “See? Bad idea.”

     Danny listens while Kichiro talks. “Nope. You’re still one-hundred-percent alive. Congrats!” Suddenly, a ghost comes crashing through the wall behind Kichiro. 

     “...But you won’t be for long if you don’t move it--!” Zipping forward, he tackles Kichiro to the ground right as the ghost swipes its scythe-like arms at his head.

      Okay. That does it. This isn’t real. None of this is real. He can’t remember dying, but maybe he did and this is all just some funky place he hadn’t thought existed in life. That’d make more sense than– well… this.

     Danny stares at Kichiro. His half-finished question doesn’t make sense to him. How what? he wants to ask. But before he can, a he glances down. And then he glances up. And then a puzzle piece clicks into place.

     “You may have no idea what’s goin’ on,” he says, “but you sure are lucky to have me! ...’Course, I have no idea what’s goin’ on either, but at least I have a better no idea of what’s goin’ on than you do!” Clearing his throat, he thinks, Alright, Fenton. Don’t screw this up--just act cool. 

      His hands fly up in surrender. ❛ Sorry! ❜ White-haired-anime-boy seems to get over it pretty fast, fortunately. Following his line of vision, the Drifter’s stomach plunges to his feet. ❛ What the– ❜

      Before he can finish, the slimy thing that’d popped out of the wall is canned up. How a water bottle could do that is beyond him, and all he can do is stare.

     He does not look like he’s in good shape. At all.