#faerynova

Pariah Dark is nothing like the ghosts that have invaded Amity before. Not even the Knight can compare to the overwhelming sense of pressure and dry heat that Pariah fills the air with, enough that Valerie’s hands shake for reasons that have nothing to do with her injuries no matter how much she might wish otherwise. If there’s any consolation, and there can be no mistaking how hollow a consolation it is, it’s that the Phantom seems just as affected. Its edges pulse, shivers of visibility running up and down them, and despite the growl rising in its chest Valerie can see how its claws tremble. She regrets that she ever had any reason to meet the predator strong enough to intimidate the ever-eager Phantom this way.

It’s no small miracle that Valerie and Danny actually get most of the day to clean themselves up and relax. Their only interruption is the Box Ghost (Val is unsurprised at this point to learn Danny actually calls it- him- Boxy), and they don’t even transform for that, much to the other ghost’s annoyance. The day is largely spent in the small movie theater tucked away inside the Manson residence, playing Mario Party and then Smash Brothers. Danny never brings up the way Valerie went berserk, and she never invites him to. She does fire a low-power ectoblast at his shoulder from a few seats down when he steals a star from her, though, mostly to stop his giggling. It’s nice. She can’t remember the last time she felt at ease like this, even with everything unknown and terrifying lurking in the shadows of her thoughts. Sam still glances at her sideways sometimes, and Jazz sneaks worried glances when she thinks Val isn’t looking, but her thoughts never feel as intense as they did when she was looking out for the Phantom in every dark corner.

“You look like hell, little brother.” Danny doesn’t know how she can tell. Aside from the obvious injuries, the cuts and wounds that bleed luminescent green sludge, even he’s never really been able to make out exactly how badly he’s been beaten up until he changes back. He manages a weak shrug, though, because she’s absolutely right and no lie can possibly convince her otherwise. “M’already dead. Help her first.” Based on the way Jazz’s eyes soften, that may not have been exactly the right thing to say. Stupid, he realizes, that was stupid, she hates it when he reminds her. He swallows the acrid taste of worry that rolls off her along with the guilt that wells up in him and thanks the stars above that she doesn’t press the issue, instead letting go of him to look at the Huntress.

There’s something so freeing about being in the air, even if her board flexes a bit where it used to be so rigid. She will never admit it, not to anyone, but there’s times where she envies the Phantom and the other monsters she chases through the sky. The way they twist and move with complete freedom, as though gravity is a mere suggestion and wind resistance an empty threat, is undeniably appealing compared to the reliance on her board she currently has. Still, she guns the board’s engines and streaks across the city and feels a little bit like herself again for the first time since she’d fallen on that football field. It’s a pretty significant distance from okay, given the angry determination that simmers in her blood, but it’s better than stewing in her own failures.

Val shrugs, using the motion to test her bandaged shoulder. Slight pain but no real resistance outside of the bandages. Good. She doesn’t miss how the redhead’s eyes snap to that same spot for a moment, though if Jasmine has any thoughts on Valerie testing her limits, she keeps them to herself for now. “You’re Danny’s sister, right? Jasmine?” “The one and only. I prefer Jazz, though.” Valerie nods, and Jazz gestures at the overwhelmingly pink decor. “It’s not exactly a five star hotel, but I hope my room’s been comfortable enough. We didn’t know what else to do when Phantom showed up holding you in his arms three days ago.” Ah. Huh.