No one seems to be acknowledging the far funnier element of this, which is, that when you go to the commenter’s account, you find out they are actually fucking roleplaying as a sexually repressed skeleton and jjst really committed to the bit while everyone in the reblogs is talking about how much they hate minors or whatever. thank you kharak the skeleton servant of the almighty lich king
“I hate this website” “I hate purity culture” “asexuals are so annoying” “religious people are so annoying” “I can’t stand TikTok gays” “I hate minors” you guys are talking about a skeleton warrior who serves an evil wizard right now
the context here is that we were both autistic kids in the same middle school (circa 2012) who had the same reaction to emotional issues- to fucking fight people. since we got in trouble a lot for this we decided that instead of being angry at other people we would be mature and wait until after school before fighting each other. usually this involved name calling and being jackasses but often would result in wrestling/hitting if one of us was pissed enough. then we would walk home and chat about our day. it was very emotionally fulfilling and probably helped us out more then special ed ever did.
we kinda stopped doing this in highschool but remained friends, and our moms are friends also. they know we used to fight almost daily and think it’s real mature + kind of cute because at the time we were emotional WRECKS who were not afraid to lash out at others, so waiting until after school was a “huge improvement”. this meeting was just wrestling for old times sake. Platonic wrastlin between Two Dudes.
[ID: screenshot of two text messages, the first one reads, hey do u wanna meet up and beat the shit out of each other like the old days. The reply reads, sure. End ID.]
About ten, fifteen years ago I wrote a story about a guy living in a Capitalist dystopia. His walls, furniture, and tableware are all covered in smart displays. Basically animated wallpaper. It's sold as being able to turn your room or objects into anything - A nice forest view, outer space, a fantasy realm... but the companies that run this stuff keep sneaking ads in.
It gets so bad he's always being woken up by adverts that offer insomnia cures and better bedding that play when he tries to sleep.
So he buys the ad-free tier, and it's great... for a few months. And then he starts getting adverts from 'premium partners'. So he goes up a level... and the same thing happens.
So he jailbreaks his wallpaper and sends all the ad servers to 0.0.0.0 and voila... he can sleep.
Until this SWAT team blows his door off and drag him off to jail. The Ad companies are suing him for loss of revenue for the products he' notionally have bought if he'd watched their adverts, based on some weird 'The average consumer buys X products with an average value of Y' calculation.
The judge is like 'well I dun wanna annoy the sponsors' so he RICO's this guy's house and possessions and sends him to jail.
... which is a nice relaxed non-volent offender jail for the corporately disenfranchised. But because these people have no money... there's no ads and now he's happy because the only place he's free... is in prison.
Which at the time was a bit much and now it's like: Called it.
Elon's suing companies for not advertising because he's losing revenue. He's also cranking the price of Ad Free Twitter. Disney and Amazon play adverts on their paid service when services used to be free because of the adverts... and now you have to pay to watch the adverts or go up a couple of tiers.
And google's going around freaking out about ad-blockers.
Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.
.
Interdimensional travel was hard.
It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.
"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"
"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.
"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.
"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."
"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."
"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.
"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."
"Then they ought not to summon you."
While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."
"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."
Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."
"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."
"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."
The Observants were silent.
"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"
The Observants scattered.
Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.
Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.
.
"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."
"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.
Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."
"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."
Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."
"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"
"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."
Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."
Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."
"You mean my Ghost King form."
"All your forms are your Ghost King form."
"You know what I mean."
"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.
"It freaks people out, though."
"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."
"Is that likely?"
"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."
Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into
"You can do more than that."
"I can?"
"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."
.
The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.
This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.
They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.
And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.
The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.
It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.
Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"
Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"
"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"
"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"
"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"
"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."
"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.
The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"
"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.
"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"
"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."
Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.
"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."
Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.
"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"
"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."
"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"
"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."
A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...
"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.
The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"
"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."
"And just us, not our kids or anything?"
"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"
"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"
"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.
"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"
"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"
"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."
"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"
"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."
"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"
"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."
And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.
"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.
The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.
"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."
For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.
There was a burst of blinding light.
When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.
"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."
"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.
"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"
I've been summoned.
You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...
I can. You can't.
Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.
I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.
Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.
Close enough.
Figures (literally, 'certainly').
Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.
I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).
No! It's like being a parent.
Yes, one.
I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?
No! Gross!
No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).
the Project Zomboid devs do not get enough shit for making eating vegetables give your player character a depression debuff. reddit ass game mechanic decision, absolutely rotten
this actually isn’t true — there is not a single fresh vegetable in the base game that will give an unhappiness debuff when eaten. op must’ve been eating mouldy food
As a current college student I refuse to believe Danny as Ghost King doesn’t answer summons. As soon as people start summoning him he starts demanding home cooked meals and fat wads of unmarked cash.
That they started off summoning him with the blood of virgins was a bit distasteful, but once he told them to knock it off (threatened to take whatever harm they do to innocents out on their skin, tenfold) they seemed to get the message and started giving him offering of home decor and kitchen appliances instead.
All things being equal, they don’t even ask for much in return. For most of them, just the confirmation that he exists and is “”watching out“” for them is enough. Although lately he’s started giving his cultists random junk (a nice rock he found, a handful of marbles, a piece of scrap metal from his parents lab) and telling them they’re sacred artifacts of great power, as a joke.
“Your eminence! We have offered you the blood of virgins! We honor your presence with our offerings! Please, descend!”
In the thundering roar of “High King” being chanted throughout the dank basement, the floor opens up with a screaming split of the earth. The awe-
"Ew, no. I want enchiladas, not blood. I'm not a vampire, weirdos."
"... Pardon?"
"Not a vampire," Danny repeated, frown as prominent as the ice crown around his temple. He lazily floated about the summoning circle, puttering here and there to check the sub-par offerings. "I don't drink blood or whatever. Knock it off."
Danny glared, eyes glowing toxic green and pointed slowly at every member of the cult. "You ever spill blood again, innocent and/or unwilling, I will make sure every wound you inflict will be returned tenfold on your loved ones."
"Yes, your majesty." They trembled. Danny nodded.
"Then... what would be an acceptable offering, your majesty?"
"I literally just told you. Enchiladas and make it spicy." Danny looked around, understanding that an enchilada for payment would make him an underpaid Ghost King. "And... cash." Danny nodded decisively, turning sharply to the leader of the cult in order to make his kingly cape billow out dramatically. "Yes. Cash. I want a lot."
Hopefully this'll deter them from summoning him too much. There's only so many excuses he could give to his parents about his disappearance before they caught on. Then again... it was his parents, the Drs. Fenton, so they're never gonna catch on.
The cultists remained silent, until a young voice tentatively piped up. "There's a really good food truck two streets down. I can go get something...?"
"Good thinking, Initiative! Keep it up and you'll be a Sworn Member in no time!" The woman on the left of the cult leader praised and shooed the brightly smiling Initiative away.
"...How much money do you require, your majesty?"
Danny held up his hand in a claw shape, gloves sparkling with the cosmos themselves. "This much. No, yeah, this much."
"Is it me or does the King have a midwestern acce-ow!" Another initiative hissed as his friend elbowed him in the gut.
The leader cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I shall promptly retrieve it."
Danny dismissed the leader, patting himself for a trick well played. If they didn't want to get scammed, maybe they should have thought of that before spilling people's blood. He turned to the woman, the second in command. "So... why have you summoned me?"
The second in command began to give him a well-practiced speech. She was quite convincing, if only she wasn't advocating for the end of the world. When the two people came back, Danny made grabby hands at the foil covered plate keeping him away from his (free!) dinner. He shoved the wad of money into his chest (and enjoyed the cultists gaping at the storage he had, that's right, be jealous) and took a giant bite out of the enchilada. Delicious.
"Yew know wha' I thin'?" Danny mumbled around his mouthful of enchilada. "I'm the king o' the dead. Why make the world end faster if you're all gonna come to me anyway?"
"But- but we gave you the sacrifice!"
"You think a plate of enchiladas. a wad of cash, and some blood is worth the end of the world? This is the consulting fee. I happen to like living food. I kill living people; ergo, no more living food. Comprende?"
"But-!"
"You paid the consulting fee. I'm giving you the wise council of maybe rub your two braincells together and stop being stupid. And you-" Danny pointed at the second in command. "Maybe consider being a lawyer. Or a politician. Thanks for the food!"
With that, Danny disrupted the circle and go the hell out of dodge, cackling all the while as he took another bite of his enchilada.
----
Word got around- cultists are notorious yappers- and suddenly Danny got bombarded with summonings that ranged from murder to test materials.
"If you cheat, your afterlife is going to suck."
The high-schooler sighed. "Life sucks now, though."
"Valid. Tell you what. I'll help you study-" Danny crammed a handful of M&M's into his mouth, a twenty dollar bill tucked securely into the savings jar he's kept to carrying around in his ghost chest. "And if you pass, I'll let you see your deceased dog..." Dany squinted. "Uh, your dog...Potato Man..? again."
The teen straightened. "Fucking deal."
"Why Potato Man?"
"If I pass, I'll show you."
----
"You summoned me on Thanksgiving. Seriously?"
"You celebrate Thanksgiving, your majesty?"
"More like I celebrate the food." Danny mumbled. "Your consulting fee is that."
"What? But we just made that!" The family screeched in despair as he floated closer to the fresh mac & cheese.
"Too bad, so sad. Now, what did you want?" Danny asked as he pulled the foil pan closer and began munching. Delicious. And it wasn't becoming sentient to attack him!
"My mac and cheeeeese," the dad sobbed. "Why is death so cruel?"
Danny shoveled another serving spoonful into his maw. Delicious
----
"I- uh, brought this as an offering?" The person held up their box full of neatly organized cat toys. "Cuz... someone said you mentioned something about a demon cat?"
Danny twitched but gratefully took the box. "Thanks. It's my sister's cat. What can I do for you?"
"Uh. So. Is it like," the person waved their hand around, gesturing to themselves hopelessly. "Is it okay if I'm... you know..."
"Having no fashion sense isn't actually a crime."
"Hah! No, I meant. That I'm not cis?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"
"So I'm not going to hell?"
"That depends. It depends on a lot of things, like murder or which religion you subscribe to, but it never depends on what gender you identify as. The gender dysphoria goes away when you're dead, by the way, because you're reverted back to your soul. Your identity is tied to your soul. Denying it is like denying your soul. Humans love to do that for some reason." Danny shrugged, idly playing with a toy bee.
"Oh." They look relieved. 'Thanks. For answering."
"You paid the consultant fee, right?" Danny shook the box, grinning as the box shook ominously with bells. The hell cat was going to hate him even more but Danny didn't give a fuck. "Any other life questions?"
"What's the meaning of life?"
"A different meaning than the meaning of death, duh." Danny grinned at their scowl.
"That's cheating!"
"Says the one who summoned the Ghost King to ask about the mysterious afterlife."
They flushed. "I had questions!"
"So do a lot of people, but you don't see them summoning the Ghost King about it, do you?"
"Okay, so I've got a bit of a dramatic flair..."
Danny pointedly looked down at the summoning circle drawn in glitter pen.
"...Just go."
"Yeah, I'm going, I'm going."
----
Danny was summoned into a pho shop. A good one. He knew, because there was a quiet kid doing homework in the booths and one manning the till.
"I want a train bowl, please. Extra lemons and coriander."
A bowl is silently handed to him.
"Thank you." He relished the soup.67 The summonings have been scarce lately, and he wanted to enjoy this giant ass bowl with no shame. "So, what's up?"
"Do you know Buddha?"
"Yes?"
"Does he watch over us?"
"Yes?"
The girl in the corner booth started praying. "Hi, Buddha. Could you make sure aunt Kathy minds her own business? I know you're all about virtue but-"
The presence of Buddha chuckled at the halfhearted plea.
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