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Introducing my Val redesign and her place in this little AU of mine!
I've decided to write up a little drabble (fair warning, I definitely am not a writer lmao)
I'll post a second, gallery post without the story in-between the art and with Valerie's original sketch and character design notes.
"The last thing that Val wanted, today of all days, was to have to see the wretched ghost dog that had so thoroughly ruined her life."
Rest of the story and more art under the cut:
And yet here it was, close enough to her to bring its ambient ghost chill to her skin, staring up at her with it’s fiery red eyes, and vocalising it’s low, echoing whine.
Valerie had, up until now, tried to hold her tongue about her… Distaste, displeasure, disgust, rage, betrayal- at the ghost dog, Cujo’s, recurring presence at her school. She kept her mouth shut, if only for Danny’s sake- seeing as the boy couldn’t decide whether he was terrified of ghosts, or if his heart bled for them. She’d overheard more than enough conversations of him and his friends complaining about his own parent’s stance on ghosts. And she didn’t miss the awkward and uncomfortable look on his face, or the way it paled, whenever Val had found herself speaking up in class about her opinions.
How Danny could be raised by ghost hunters, and live in the country’s most haunted town, and still come away with anything other than fear and hatred of ghosts eluded Valerie. Though, then again, she may just be biased. Unlikely.
The mangy ghost mutt just seems to insist on being an obnoxious staple, an inescapable factor, in her life. It started with Phantom bringing the hound out on patrols with him. He’d just claimed that “Cujo’s a sweetheart, he just likes to play- and if I can get him to consider ghost hunting as play, then he’d be a lot easier to handle.” She had rolled her eyes.
And then, somehow- Valerie had no idea how this had gotten approved- Danny Fenton had turned up with the glowing green hound in a service dog vest and mobility support harness. It followed him around throughout the day, helping him navigate the school, and conveniently warding off Dash and the other A-listers.
The ghosts’ “Danny Phantom Certified Safe Ghost” patch was made to infuriate her, specifically, she thinks.
The ghost had, fortunately, stayed under Danny’s control so far. Most likely that was thanks to the promise of that infernal pink squeaky toy and a pouch of glowing green dog treats. But Valerie was sure it was only a matter of time before the dog got into an incident.
And that time was now.
Cujo’s presence in the school was a nuisance to her on most days, but she definitely didn’t have the patience for it today.
She was the definition of bone tired. Yesterday, she had barely gotten any sleep in preparation for an exam, which was followed by a gruelling shift at work.
After work, she’d gotten her complimentary manager’s meal- Nasty Burger had definitely lost all of it’s allure to her after 2 years straight of seeing how it was made- but she never got the chance to eat it. Almost as soon as the paper bag was in her hand, her ghost alert on her wrist had beeped and she was thrust into action.
It was an easy fight, no sweat off her back- but by the time she returned to her meal, it was cold, and the grease had turned the chips and burger buns soggy. With a grimace, she binned it and headed home.
Another few ghost fights had followed her that night, and she never did find herself something for dinner. She’d fallen into a lackluster 5 hours of sleep the second she got through her front door.
She slept through her alarm, not having the time to grab even a protein bar before she was racing out of the door.
And as she had entered the cafeteria, her stomach angrily protesting it’s emptiness, she discovered that she’d also managed to forget her wallet in the rush to get out the door. It was probably still sitting in the pocket of her work pants back at home, and she definitely didn't have the energy to fly there and back right now. It'd be best to conserve it for the rest of the day, she thought. So, she sank into her usual seat in the corner of the cafeteria and groaned, and ran a hand down her face. Maybe that explained the headache she had been developing…
It could also be the reason she didn’t notice the creature's approach until it was right by her side, threatening to soak her with its ecto-slobber. Sure, it’s ecto-signature had been coded out of her tracking devices, but the mutt wasn’t usually this subtle or stealthy. Especially with the very physical leash attached to its collar; which was laying on the floor tiles by the dog’s large, clawed paws.
Valerie growled under her breath and gripped the pendant of her necklace tight in her hands; the buzz of her suit's energy radiated off the golden medallion in her palm. She met the ghosts’ eyes with a deep glare, and it seemed to return its own.
It’s shoulders twitched, as if preparing to jump up at her- maybe it finally recognised her and had come to finish her off for good? ... Good luck with that, Mutt. He wasn't getting any closer, not if she had anything to say about it-
“Yeah, that’s right… Hold still, and I’ll make this quick.” The anticipation of a fight rolled over her body, making her limbs feel shaky. She held her fist out, scanning the room around her subtly to make sure her weapon would be hidden enough, but found her sight of the crowd to be slightly disorienting.
No matter, vision seeming to swim or no, concealing her blaster beneath the cafeteria table should be fine. But, before she managed to pull her focus together enough to summon it, one Danny Fenton comes to the rescue.
Though who was he rescuing? Valerie, or Cujo? Valerie would argue he was rushing to the aid of the ghost, if he was wise.
Fenton sped over before gripping his wheels tight to come to a stop at the head of her cafeteria table. “Cujo- what the hell, boy, heel.” He commanded between huffed out breaths. He must have raced across to her from the other side of the cafeteria, Val realises.
The ghost ducks its head and looks at Danny guiltily, but makes no effort to return to Fenton’s side.
She scowls, bringing both of her fists to her chest. Hopefully Danny didn’t see the glowing red energy she had been trying (and failing) to summon. “You know, I’ve tried to keep quiet about you bringing this ghost, of all ghosts, to school.” She mutters.
“I know.” Danny murmurs, averting his eyes from her and shuffling forward in his chair.
“Because against my better judgement, I trust you.” She expresses, her shoulders relax when she sees Danny lean forward to pick up the dropped end of Cujo’s leash. “But if you can’t keep him under control-” She grumbles, issuing him a warning that she knows he doesn’t understand. She’s been able to keep her identity as the Red Huntress under-wraps, after all.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry Val.” Danny says. He plants a foot on the ground for stability and leans the rest of the way forward to pick the handle of the leash up. “I thought Tucker had a better grip on his leash. But Cujo just took off- Cujo, heel.” He tries again, glaring at the ghost.
Once again, the ghost makes no attempt to move. Valerie watches as it’s shoulders tremble again and it draws its paws closer together while it stares at her intensely. The ghosts swirling red eyes cloud her vision, so she pointedly looks away before it makes her more light-headed- since when did the sight of a ghost make dizzy? She’s so off her game.
Cujo nods it’s head, poking it’s bright green tongue at her and letting glops of glowing drool fall to the ground. Gross. Danny seems off-put by it too, if the way his brows rocket up to his hairline and his eyes widen is any indication.
“It shouldn’t be allowed to do that at all- It’s a monster, remember.” She hisses.
Leash in hand, Danny rests his elbows on his knees and looks back at her with a frown. “Ix-nay on the onster-may, Val.” He says with an unimpressed tone. “He’s just doing his job.” He says slowly, reaching out to scratch behind the ghost's ear. He whispers a quiet “Good boy” to him, which has Valerie’s frown setting deeper.
“Nuh-uh, not good- that damn ghost is anything but good.” She protests, “It nearly attacked me!”
“Cujo would never,” Danny says, rubbing Cujo’s cheeks and smushing around the excess skin of his face with his palms. “Look at this sweet little face.” He says, guiding Cujo to face her. Any other student might describe Cujo’s eyes as round and sparkling, as his tongue lolls out of his maw happily. Valerie only sees those large fangs of his. “He just loves to do what he was trained for.”
“Oh I bet.” Val says bitterly. “Phantom would train him to attack me.”
Fenton shoots her a look, one brow quirked higher than the other, and his head tilts to the side. “Why would Phantom want Cujo to attack a random student?” He asks, letting go of the dog and sitting back in the wheelchair again. As soon as Danny settles and pats his lap in invitation, Cujo morphs back into his (deceiving) puppy form and plops down. Danny fishes out a treat for him, and hands him that damn pink squeaky toy. The ghosts’ deceptively blunt fangs sink into the pink rubber as the squeaker inside whines.
“He’s not all that great.” Valerie huffs. With Cujo back on his leash and distracted, she feels comfortable relaxing a bit more. She slept horribly, she doesn’t need to be this tense- she leans forward against her empty table. “Someday he’s going to show his true colours.”
“Colour, singular; he’s just green. Black and white doesn't count, they’re tones.” Danny quips. Valerie rolls her eyes so hard her headache flares up again and she winces. “Anyway- Val, out of curiosity-”
“What is it Fenton?” Valerie mutters through gritted teeth, rubbing a circle on her temples to try and soothe her headache.
“Did you- Oh, I don’t know- Stay up all of last night, potentially doing something physically draining, without eating before or after?” Danny asks without a breath.
“... What?” Eyes narrowing, Valerie looks back at Danny again. He can’t have any clue that she’s the Red Hunter, Danny never sticks around during ghost fights, and no one else has ever alluded to knowing her secret.
“It’s a normal question-” Danny says quickly. “You- Uh- You work out, right? If I remember correctly, you’re a black belt. Did you, like-” He pauses, eyes flitting around as he tries to think, “Do you have a competition you were training for? Or something?” He guesses.
Val flinches. She can't tell him the truth, that she was out ghost hunting, so she accepts the excuse he doesn’t know he’s offered her. “Yeah… That’s it. I don’t have time to train during the day between work and school.” She agrees. “Yeah, I was training.”
“Right,” Danny nods, “and you haven’t eaten.”
“How could you possibly know that?” She asks.
“Oh, uh- Sam’s diabetic, and Cujo’s trained for diabetic alert.” Danny points out. Which… Yeah, Val remembers seeing Cujo’s patch for that now, and she thinks she’s seen the dog alerting to civilians after ghost fights. She had just brushed it off as a PR thing; if Cujo could alert to a random civilian's low or high blood sugar, that meant that Phantom got to swoop in and educate the public and look like a hero. Though Valerie knew better. She knew to be suspicious of how he even got those resources in the first place.
“Cujo was alerting to your low blood sugar.” Danny continues, “And you look-”
“How do I look, Fenton?” Valerie challenges
“... Like you- uh… Like you’re- um.” Danny struggles, voice cracking, “Uh- You look lovely?” Danny winces.
“That was a terrible save.”
“Yeah, I know.” Danny sighs, “Look, the point is, do you have food? You need to eat.”
“That’s none of your business.” She huffs, though her cheeks feel a little warm at the reminder that she forgot her wallet.
“It is if Cujo’s gonna break away again to alert to you.” He says. “He’s too helpful.” He mutters, stroking Cujo’s back.
“He’s a good for nothing ghost.” Valerie retorts instinctively.
“He’s been quite good for me, actually. Sam, too.” Danny points out, an almost smug expression spreads across his face.
Valerie frowns and looks away from him.
"And he’s good for all those civilians he alerts to during fights…” Danny points out, his tone sickly sweet, before he chokes and stutters out, “or so I've been told, because- obviously- I'm not... at those..." Danny coughs. "Anyway. You need to eat something. Come on."
"I don't have lunch money today." Valerie points out. "I'll be fine, I've got work right after school, I'll eat there."
"You should eat now, though, is the thing." Danny says. "Don't worry about the money. The second Sam hears Cujo alerted to you, you'll have to fight her not to buy you lunch." Danny continues.
"I don't need your pity, Danny." Valerie says.
"It's not pity-” Danny groans, “Look, it can just be a juice box and a granola bar if you're that bothered by it." Danny says. "That's like... 3 bucks worth of food. You can pay us back or give us extra fries next time we're at Nasty Burger. Just... please, come with me, have some juice, get your blood sugar back up." Danny locks the wheels of his chair and extends a gloved hand to her.
Valerie glares at it, then flicks her eyes to where Sam and Tucker are sitting. Tucker’s head is down, he’s either got his nose buried in some gadget, or he’s scarfing down his meal. Sam, though, is staring right at her with a puzzling look, as if she were trying to read their lips to gauge what they were talking about. But when she sees Valerie notice her, she quickly turns away and sits back down.
Valerie glances back at Danny’s hand and sighs, not rolling her eyes this time, and takes it. It’s preformative, she didn’t need him to help her stand- he’s seated too- but she still uses his help up. Disengaging his breaks, Danny spins around and guides her back to the table.
“Hey Tuck,” Danny calls out, “Do you mind getting another juice and a granola bar?”
The moment the request is out of Danny’s mouth, Sam’s eyes widen and her mouth falls open. She turns around to start digging through her bag.
Tucker looks up from his PDA, “What for- you know I’m saving right now-” He begins, but he’s cut off when Sam thrusts her card into his face with her manicured hands.
“Use that. Juice, granola, and something else substantial. Doesn’t matter what, my treat.” Sam says quickly.
Tucker looks between the card and her, shrugs, turns his PDA off, accepts the card, and stands “Whatever. Can I get something too?” He asks. Sam has already turned back to face Valerie and has shuffled to make room on the seat next to her. Tucker takes Sam’s dismissive handwave as a yes and walks away.
“What’s happening?” Valerie asks cautiously, slowly lowering to the seat beside Sam, as the goth places a small, plastic wrapped fabric container on the table. It strikes Valerie with an odd sense of familiarity, but she can’t remember where she’s seen one of these packages before. When did her mind start to get this foggy?
“I told you, once Sam figures out Cujo alerted to you, you’d have to fight her to get her to back down.” Danny said, situating himself back at his usual spot at the head of their table. Cujo’s leash has been tied back to the frame of his chair, not that it looks like the dog has any intention of gallivanting off now that he has his favourite toy between his paws.
Sam rips open the plastic packaging to reveal a small, orange fabric case. “I hope you don’t mind the colour, I’m all out of anything else.” She says. She unzips the case, revealing a small device inside.
Oh, now she remembers. This is one of those blood glucose monitor kits that she’s seen Phantom handing out when Cujo alerts. “I suppose you’re where Phantom gets these kits then.” She says, unable to hide her displeased tone. She already knew that most of the school was head over heels for the vigilante ghost, but she assumed he acted as a lone wolf. Which, yes, meant she assumed that these kits were likely stolen- but somehow she feels worse knowing that Samantha Manson was his supplier. You would think that her best friends’ ghost hunter parents would have taught her a bit more sense.
“Yep, they were my idea. It’s easier to educate some people about blood glucose levels when they actually get to experience a test.” She says proudly, unpacking one of the test strips and loading it into the machine. “One test kit per person; may as well put my parent’s gross amount of money to good use.” She explains. "Now c'mere, gimme your hand!" Sam says, holding out her palm.
This post is getting long enough, I reckon- and while I did do a lot of research to get this right, a lot of which hasn't ended up in this little drabble, I might save it for a dedicated one-shot on Ao3 if ya'll like this!
The TLDR is that Valerie Gray is Valerie Gray; she's not a fan of Cujo being out and about around the school, no matter how many good deeds she sees him doing. That might only change when she's forced to get along with him and confront what it is he does for others.
You can choose to interpret this as Val also being diabetic; I did consider how the nano-bots her suit is made of would effect her blood glucose levels, but chose to keep the diabetes rep to Sam.
Hollanov lie detector interview where Ilya begs beforehand to be allowed to ask every Rose Landry comparison he’s ever been insecure about, and he totally plays it out like he’s joking (he’s not).
Shane is like no! It’s embarrassing! And this is public! And you wouldn’t make me actually do that to Rose would you? You know the answer, I’m gay!
Only Rose thinks the whole thing is hilarious and gives Shane the go ahead so there’s no real reason to resist Ilya’s begging anymore, still he holds out to the day before the interview.
“Fine! Fine! You can ask about Rose, but I get to ask about anything I want too!” And Ilya’s like yes yes of course my love. His boring Shane would hardly ask anything damning.
Fast forward to the day of the interview Shane is fondly exasperated with Ilya’s Rose questions, and Ilya is being a cocky bastard so happy with how it played out.
Until they switch sides and Shane breaks out his first question:
“Is it or is it not true that despite famously calling Scott Hunter ‘a nearly extinct fossil’ you think he’s hot?” The blood drains from Ilya’s face pretty quickly after that.
“Do you think Hayden Pike is a good hockey player?”
“Do you consider Hayden Pike a close friend?”
“Who do you love more: me or Anya?”
“Besides me who is your favorite teammate?”
He gets so nervous all of his lies get caught, and by the end his asshole reputation is in shambles. Kip takes a video of Scott watching the interview and he laughs so hard he can’t even comment. It goes viral.
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Years later, Marleau is visiting Ilya and in the evening he witnesses Shane putting on his glasses to read while Ilya and Cliff are playing a video game.
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What the heck! As of this reblog, this comic has 21 notes. Apparently a little reblog chain happened, but I don’t really remember noticing. Much higher numbers than my usual 0 or 1. My first taste of success, and I totally missed it!
Show up at work like hi boss sorry I'm late my I was helping my mother track down one specific 90s dungeon crawler for the purposes of obtaining a muffin recipe the developer hid in the files
Tim Cain's Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Muffins -- They're the shadow king's favorite!
1 and 2/3 cup flour
2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp baking powder
2 eggs
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup sugar
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup pumpkin (half of a 16 oz can)
1/2 cup (one stick) butter, melted
preheat oven to 350. grease muffin tins (one dozen regular size) or use baking cups. mix flour, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a large bowl. Break eggs into another bowl. add pumpkin and butter and whisk until blended. stir in chocolate chips. pour over dry ingredients and stir until just blended. do NOT overstir! scoop batter into tins and bake 20-25 minutes. after cooling, keep muffins wrapped in plastic to avoid drying.
I can understand how "modern person thrown into the past gets by pretending to be a healer/doctor" is as surprisingly common of a trope as it is. I mean I'm fluent enough at bullshitting to be pretty sure I could pull it off to impersonate a doctor in any time pre-1800s. If I have no idea what something is or how to treat it, I could just get the opinion of the other whatever-passes-as-medical-professionals around, but if their suggestions sound like bullshit I'm not doing it. And I'll beat the shit out of anyone suggesting bloodletting or mercury. With my healing stick. I've tied little bells on it, that jingle comically with every smack.
The awesome curative powers of my healing stick come from two separate sources: Placebo, and me using it to beat anyone trying to give my patients mercury.
Ooooh you reminded me of that protocol I wrote about how to reinvent penicilin with only alchemical tools. You know. Just in case I did end up dumped in the past and needed a stable income.
I am so glad you asked! I unfortunately lost the protocol because it was probably on my laptop, but I remember the broad strokes. So! In case anyone does end up stuck in the middle ages and can find a kindly old alchemist willing to lend you his gear, here's the revamped Penicilin (Re)Discovery Protocol!
0. WASH YOUR GODDAMN HANDS.
We're not working in a lab here, cross-conatamination WILL happen. Your job is to minimize it as much as possible. If you end up in a place where soap hasn't been invented yet, wash your hands in distilled alcohol. Your skin won't thank you, but you can afford all the nice hand creams after you cure the plague and get rich.
Find some Penicillium mushrooms!
Yes, penicilin is produced by mushrooms, though Ascomycotes are usually called moulds, it's a fungus, and it makes me laugh to call it a mushroom. Plus, in the middle ages, mushrooms were known to have medicinal properties, so you'll get a lot farther by calling them mushrooms rather than molds.
First thing you need: mouldy fruit. Oranges, or cantaloupes are preferred.
Here's the thing: mold is everywhere, so getting it will be the easiest part. The tricky part start with identifying the correct mold. You don't want to feed your patients black mold, do you?
So. Leave some fruit out. The more the better, because you want to up your chances. Then let it rot in warm and humid places. After a while, pick any fruit that looks white on the outside and green in the middle:
Not the best picture, but that's what it should look like.
2. Transplanting your (potential) Penicillium mushrooms
Until you get it on a plate it's damn near impossible to tell which mold you got. Get ready for some trial and error because you will have to sift through a lot of unwanted mold. You might want to wear a mask.
First you need something to transplant it onto. Making modern agar plates is probably impossible but thankfully not needed. You just need:
Glass plates (the kind that can be closed, you want to minimize cross contamination)
1-2 cup of Hot water (preferably distilled, ask your alchemist if he can do that)
1 cup whole milk (should be 13g of lactose per cup, if your Penicillium won't grow adjust the water-milk ration in favor of milk)
If available: Instead of milk use corn steep liquor. Unfortunately only available after America was discovered, so YMMW, but Penicillium LOVES this stuff. It will make your life SO much easier if it's available.
Pinch of salt
1 teaspoon Yeast extract (get it from a baker)
3-6 teaspoons Gelatin (get it from a butcher)
Disclaimer: The ratio of each of the ingredients will have to be adjusted depending on the purity of the ingredients and on the conventional measuring sizes of the place you end up.
Gently mix it all in and pour out into the plates, let it solidify. If you end up dumped far enough that such refinement isn't possible, make bone broth and strain it through cheesecloth several times to make it as clear as possible, then mix it 5/6 broth and 1/6 milk. Again, if available, use corn steep liquor, but if not milk is fine. Add gelatin (should still be able to get it from the butcher) as needed to solidify it. I'm afraid experimentation will be needed depending on the resources you will be working with.
When you're done, you should have something like this:
Now that you have your plates, run an inoculation loop through a flame to sterilize it.
Something like this. Wave it through the air to cool it so you don't kill your mold, grab it from your fruit and geeeeeently spread it on top of your improvised agar without breaking the surface of the gelatin!
You can see the motions on this one pretty well. Close your plates, stack them about a meter/3ft from the fireplace. Judge for yourself, but ideally somewhere you would consider comfortably warm (20-24°C).
3. Identifying your Penicillium Mushrooms
If all went well, you are going to have something that looks like this:
Well, realistically, it will look something like this:
We're not actually doing it in a lab, after all. But IDEALLY, it will look like the above. It doesn't have to be perfect, you just need to be able to identify Penicillium molds for now.
IDEALLY, on the plate that matches the description of the penicillium mold you'll see an exclusion zone of bacteria around the mold, like the fourth plate in the second row, so you know you have a potential winner, but if you managed to avoid bacterial growth you need to take a few extra steps.
Penicillium molds have characteristic rings of growth, grey-green-white rings. They're easy to differentiate from bacteria because the molds are fuzzy and the bacteria as smooth and slimy. In the above picture, there are four plates that potentially have what we want, and two are less certain than others. Wash out the unwanted ones, make new agar plates, sterilize your inoculation loop and transplant your best candidates. You might need to do this several times.
Two types are confirmed to produce penicilin: P. chrysogenum and P. rubens.
The former is far more widely used today, but since we're sourcing them from literally thin air, we're more likely to get P. rubens, but unless you're a mycologist you probably won't be able to tell the difference. Thankfully you won't need to, because they both produce penicillin. Which brings me to the next step.
4. Confirming it's the penicillin producing mushroom
We're gonna need more agar plates for this one, and believe it or not, you're gonna need to mix blood into your agar. Wash your hands THROUGHLY.
(Theoretically you can get away with just milk, but identifying the correct bacterial colony on white agar is going to be a nightmare, so just add some sheep blood to your agar, conventionally it's about 5% by volume but you might need more to make it)
You need some gram-positive bacteria, preferably of the Bacillota type. Please don't go out and find a patient with fucking botulism or tetanus, you need to live long enough to make the cure. Instead, if you have a vagina, scrape some of the white, mucousy stuff from there and plant it on your plate. If you don't have your own vagina, a borrowed one is fine. Penicilin also works on Treponema pallidum, so if you get a syphilis-affected prostitute that should also work. Just wear gloves.
Ideally you get something like this.
This is actually Lactobacillus brevis, but Lactobacillus colonies all look relatively the same. The important thing is that it's all gram-positive, and will therefore be affected by penicillin.
Take new plates again, plant your Penicillium mold in the middle, and the bacteria all around it, getting as close to the center as possible. You can put down a paper marker for the mold. Wait for about 20 days.
Ideally, on at least one plate, you will get something like this:
This is literally a textbook example of testing antibiotics, but the Zone of Inhibition is what you're looking for. It means the mold is releasing a compound to kill the competing bacteria for resources, in this case, Beta-lactam antibiotic, or penicillin. Make sure to pick the one with the WIDEST ZoI, because that's the one that produces most penicillin.
So now we have the root stock, but our problems have just begun. This is the part where you're absolutely going to need an alchemist's help.
The problem is that a human body is not a petri dish. It's quite a bit larger. And you want the good bacteria destroying stuff without all the nasty contaminants, so you need a SHITLOAD of mold producing a LOT of penicillin, and then you need a way to filter it. You are going to need actual lab equipment for that, or near as they had it.
Since I lost the original protocol I'm going to need to do research all over again how to do that with alchemy equipment (or at least a microbrewery), so that will be in the next installment.
Concept: generic fantasy adventure where the wizard has a crackpot assistant and he explains sadly that while Hreithbert is an excellent person for keeping the wizard tower tidy and the homonculi fed they're obsessed with cooking like ten million plates of inedible goop but it makes them happy so he permits it
And at the end of the story the big reveal is Hreithbert is a time displaced biochemist who has finally fucking refined their process for penicillin.
I'm posting this here because yes it's visually beautiful, but more importantly it shows the process of learning. It's not easy. It's scary. There's not a lot of people doing it.
It's beautiful because of the effort, not in spite of it. I feel like we don't value the effort of learning in social media posts, and this was incredibly done.
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