#writer luma

Writer: @lumanae

“…What on Earth is that,” Danny shuddered.

“W–just because I’m not as cash money as Tali doesn’t mean I’m not cool!” sputtered tumblr user lumanae.

“That’s neat and all, but I was actually referring to the ghost scuttling out of the ghost dumpster.”

“Oh. OH!” Luma bolted out of their ghost inflatable pool chair. “Sorry, gotta go, I’ve gotta announce or something????”

“Sounds good to me,” Danny replied, settling in.

“And now,” Luma shouted over their ghost 1920s-esque microphone carrying loads of sex appeal, “we have match eight!”

The crowd roared.

“He’s green. He’s mean. He has an ornamental belt made of teeth he’s heisted. It’s @canofspooks!”

Spooks obligingly flopped around in their ghost trash puddle, akin to a beached Wii Play Mystery Fish.

A second ghost emerged from the crowd, chortling at the fabricated pie charts in her hand.

“Oh! Oh ho ho!” Luma exclaimed. “It’s the bureaucracy! It’s @dantheectoman !”

Red Wraith struck a secretarial pose.

“Get ready to be… penciled out!” She brandished her green ghost latte.

“Is that matcha, or just an inherent property of the ghost!descriptor? Like Scribblenauts.” Luma mused

“It is green! And soon,” Red Wraith pointed at the still-flopping Spooks,“ you will be too!”

“yeah. yeah thats fair” replied Spooks. He crunched his bones weakly.

Red Wraith stalked towards the trash ghost. “Prepare to be… decaffeinated!”

She stopped at his head, and tilted her ghost latte upside down. It splashed in a solid stream on Spooks’s head.

“Oh no…” He gurgled. “My one weakness! Java!”

“I knew you were a filthy bedrock edition player,” grumbled Technus, who was apparently still in the arena.

“My confidence… dissolving… my constitution… still trash-like…” Spooks moaned, before dissolving into goo.

“That settled that! Spooks is unable to fight! Red Wraith wins!” Luma exclaimed.

Red Wraith preened.

Writer: @lumanae

“And now, gamers,” announced Luma, “we have a special treat! @ecto-american, who has the remarkable ability to properly cook 1 (one) hot pocket, versus @jl-artsandcreations, who can… make coffee? Potentially? Her ecto latte is mysteriously and ominously unlabelled, so one can only hope. Regardless: Phight!”

“Oh, god DAMN it!” Danny cried. “Nick was living in my closet for like. A week! Dude! What the Fuck!”

“I know your pain. He was in my closet for a whole month leading up to this round.” Pip prepared to yoink her coffee at his face. “War is hell.”

Luma sadly shook their head. “That’s one messed up ghost. For shame.”

“Ghost? GHOST?!?!?!” Nick sputtered. “I’m an ECTO-AMERICAN! ‘Ghost’ has been an archaic slur for at least 5,733 days!” 

“That’s such a hyperspecific date! Nobody is going to be able to figure out what event happened on that day and laugh at the obvious attempt at a joke!” Pip scowled. “Not even Vladfuckers keep that date memorized!”

“Yeah--well--nobody is going to keep YOU memorized!” Nick cackled. He pumped his super soaker furiously. “Prepare to be doused in the tears of fanfic writers!”

“Oh, so that’s why I’ve been so dehydrated!” Tali slumped against their chair. “Nick has been siphoning me while I sleep!”

“Benefits of sleeping in your closet,” he winked.

The entire crowd muttered in disgust. Luma was clearly the sexiest person there; what was the point in posturing at being sexier?

“Your sex appeal is bad and so are you!” Cried Pip, rallying forward with her latte in hand.

Not to be outdone, Nick released a barrage of forlorn fanfic fosterer fluid. Pip let out a battle cry

and sloshed her latte at him.

“Oh no!” cried Danny. “Their mutual liquids are doing the two-beams-meeting dramatic showdown thing! Like in Harry Potter! And Barbie Fairytopia: Magic of the Rainbow!”

“Muahahaha! My fanfic writer juice has about 72% of the total beam area!” Nick thrust his squirt gun forward, pushing more power into the tears. “That means I will soon take 100% of the beam space, and beat your stupid pointy face into the ground!” 

“Fool! Coward! Clearly you’ve never seen Barbie Fairytopia: Magic of the Rainbow! The battle has only just begun! My friends will support me, and my cursed latte juice will overcome yours, whilst I also gain a new, objectively gayer outfit!”

“She’s. Not wrong,” Luma ducked their head. “Although I’d prefer a Barbie Fairytopia: Mermaidia reference. That way, we could get an ectopuss or something to sing. Sexily.”

Nick quivered in fear. “When will your friends show up to defeat me?!”

Pip winced. “You see, I… never quite got around to establishing a widely varied friend group that meshes cohesively despite our differences.”

Danny’s mouth dropped. “You what!” The crowd booed. “Even I know that’s proper direct-to-Nickelodoen movie decorum. Was she raised in a barn?!”

“Well--I--” Pip sputtered.

“Wait! Holy crap! While we’ve been debating the semantics of Elise Allen’s plot structure, my fanfic writer tears have reached the end of the Confrontation Beam!” Nick cackled in glee. “I win!” 

“What, wha--OH FRIDGE!”

Like an object vaporized abruptly into a cloud of smoke, Pip was vaporized abruptly into a cloud of smoke.

“Did... did Nick just kill a man?” Danny shot up.

Writer: @lumanae

“Because the gods know no bounds to my suffering, here’s! Two more beverage-themed ghosts!”

Luma angrily stabbed the ground with her pool noodle hat.

“First, we have a lean, mean, phighting machine! Brandishing a cup of coffee and an uncomfortably strong love for the secondary colors, tumblr user @going-dead! Who named themself after bread!”

“I bet you like ciabatta, you prude,” Rye stuck out their tounge.

“And now, the phighter with an ID only a multiplier of 10 away from being the second best number, brandishing a thing of hot cocoa mix and an unusual propensity for contortion, it’s @spookyscaryphantoms! Who is not named for a bread variety, but is named for the United States Nuclear Regulatory Commission’s acronym for Sensitive Unclassified Non-Safeguards Information!”

“You have too much time on your hands. And too much access to Google.” Danny grumbled.

“Phuck you. Phight!”

“Ever heard of coffee with chocolate in it?” jeered Sunsi. 

“No???” Rye said. “That’s because it SUCKS. Just like you at phighting.”

“You know,” Rye drawled, “I’ve had a long day. Ghosts yelling at me, some dipshit comparing me to bread, and now you. Do you know how much caffeine is in this bad boy?” they pointed to the coffee. “69 milligrams! That’s like. Half a Monster. I.e. NOT ENOUGH for this, let me SAY!”

“Oh. Ok. That’s fair. I’m sorry. I’ll just. Go home? I guess? This phight needs to be wrapped up in 3 minutes, so. That’s probably for the best.” Sunsi shuffled off. “Good luck, man.”

Luma looked at the camera, akin to Jim Halpert. “Hmmmmm,” they said. “I wonder which dumb fanfic reading bitch could possibly responsible for this anticlimactic of a phight resolution?”

“I deserve better, and so does Rye!” shouted Sunsi from the liminal phighting ring-audience space. 

“Yeah, that’s fair. Regardless: @going-dead’s defeatist attitude drove off @spookyscaryphantoms! Rye wins!”

“That was… something,” Tucker whistled.

“Tell me about it,” Tali sighed. “You wouldn't believe the stunts they pulled the first day.” She turned to face the crowd. “Moving on to Match 9! From the merciless territory of the Frozen Wasteland, the fighter so good they'll make you cry: Bitch-ass-kitten!”

Bitch-ass-kittens trudged into the ring, bawling. The ghosts closer to the ring began to tear up and looked at each other in confusion.

“Did I mention that was literal?” Tali smirked.

“At least we’re not affected, right, Danny?” Tucker elbowed him.

Danny glared, tears streaming down his face.

“Oh. Half ghost. Riiiiight.”

“And hailing from the Far Frozen: Majalisconvallaria! The ghost so good at what they do that being dead is their only skill!”

“You bet it is!” Majalis whooped.

“You know—I don't have a snarky comeback to that,” said Danny. “That’s just a big mood.”

Tali chuckled. “PHIGHT!”

Bitch-ass-kitten immediately began stalking towards Majalis, jaw hanging open.

“Are they… Trying to vore her?!” Tucker shuddered.

“Wouldn't be a phight without vore!” Tali beamed.

Before any of them could blink, Majalis whipped out a laser pointer. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” she called.

Bitch-ass-kitten slogged on, unperturbed. “Why isn't this thing distracting them?” Majalis cried, rapidly clicking the pointer on and off in desperation. She slowly backed up, eyeing the ghost in front of her. Bitch-ass-kitten gave a soft smile as the laser reflected off of her tears. “Who’s crying now?” She whispered.

Majalis’s back hit the ring's ropes with a quiet twang.

“Ooh. This is gonna hurt.” Tucker said, looking away.

“Tucker. It’s a fighting club. That's the whole point!” Danny retorted.

“It’s pronounced PHighting,” Tali cut in.

“That’s what I said.

“No, you said Fighting. Not PHighting.”

“That’s the same—!” Danny sighed. “Whatever.”

Out of ideas, Majalis yeeted the laser pointer at Bitch-ass-kitten’s face.

“OH GOD MY EYES” they yelled. “YOU HIT ME DIRECTLY IN THE EYES OH GOD

“THIS HURTS WORSE THAN THAT TIME WITH THE CAN OPENER

“HOLY SHIT”

They crumpled to the ground in defeat. The audience stared in shock, still processing the defeat.

The sharp doot of a kazoo broke the silence.