“Ms. C! Ms. Garrett! Look what I made today!”

 

–Danny showing the biology department his latest “costume.”

 

“…Did ya also know that there was this guy named Fragonard, but not the Fragonard most people know from the paintings, and this other Fragonard would take bodies, and he would take the skin off, and he would like, make sculptures out of them! He made this really cool one with a horse and a rider, and they both only have a little skin on, and so you can look inside and see the bones!”

 

–Danny making casual conversation

 

Name

 

Danny Divinski

 

Supername:

 

The Gaffer

 

Danny created his supername after stumbling upon carnival gaffs in his studies of what the inhabitants of Nazarth call “the sublimation of remains” but what we of Earth don’t really have a good term for, the best approximation being something like “corpse art.” The difficulty in describing the subject should tell you something about how unsettling, albeit unintentionally so, Danny’s interests are to his peers. Throughout most human cultures, corpses are considered things to be handled briefly, if at all. In some cultures, entire castes exist just for the handling of bodies. But exceptions do arise, for instance the Catacomb Saints or the bodies of Fragonard, and these exceptions are written down in books–and I think Danny might have read them all. It’s from one of these books that Danny learned about carnival gaffs–fake oddities made to fill sideshows. If you’ve ever heard of the Fiji mermaid, think that. Danny likens the “costumes” he makes for his “fireflies” to gaffs, and so calls himself the Gaffer.

 

Average Grade: 

 

A+

 

Danny is an extremely bright boy, as his hobbies would suggest. A lot of knowledge goes into the creation of his “costumes”–anatomy, manesology, biology, chemistry, mechanics, and even sewing for the little capes, jackets, and hats. Every little bone in his costumes has to be able to move. Every socket has to line up. Each tendon of every muscle has to tie to the bones just right. The skin has to be measured perfectly. Too little and it could tear through stretching, too much and it could sag on the frame. It has to cover snugly while still being able to stretch. If the innate reaction to seeing Danny’s costumes is revulsion, then the innate reaction to understanding his costumes is awe, especially when he taught himself how to make them. He had no teacher, not because he was ashamed of what he was making (far from it), but because he found it easier to teach himself and learn by doing.

 

Emergency Response Class:

 

2

 

Danny has no interest in becoming a superhero, but took ERC 2 so he could learn how best to use his powers if he ever found himself in an emergency. Many of his “fireflies” were around his age when they died, and boys Danny’s age tend to die from tragic but preventable situations. They went off into the woods alone, they didn’t look both ways before crossing the street, they swam without a buddy, etc. Danny wants to make sure that the deaths his fireflies tell him about don’t happen to him or others around him.

 

Personalized Curriculum:

 

Advanced Manesology, Advanced Biology, Form Mastery.

 

Given how often Danny interacts with ghosts, signing him up for advanced manesology was a no-brainer. He often helps Shep with all his “passengers” when they get too unruly. Danny can touch ghosts, and what’s more he can pull ghosts to his side. He’s a great hall monitor when it comes to ghosts, and being able to physically touch ghosts allows him to romp with them so they can work off energy.

 

Advanced biology was something he asked for by name. He’s one of the most inquisitive students in the class, and his teachers adore him. He loves that he can talk with Ms. Cryptic after listening to her radio show for years and how he and Ms. Danika “Danny” Garrett have the same name, he says they’re “name siblings.”

 

It wasn’t hard at all to enroll Danny in Advanced biology despite him being a freshman. Each and every “costume” is proof that he belongs in it. Ms. Cryptic has even started using Danny’s costumes in her general biology classes as examples of anatomical mechanics.

 

Form Mastery was something we had to think about putting him in. Danny asked to take it because he felt that if he could learn how to turn into his costumes he could learn how to build them better. But shapeshifting is an incredibly demanding power, especially when introduced to a basic. Martin’s typically places students that can already shapeshift into form mastery like Monster and Amy Beck. Given how time-consuming two advanced classes can be, we decided to include Danny in form mastery but modify his instruction. Form Master Gora doesn’t teach Danny shapeshifting, instead he teaches Danny about shapeshifting. Danny watches Form Master Gora train other students and takes notes on the mechanical interactions that take place. It has produced results. By watching Amy Beck, Danny got inspired to create his drip drop costumes–which used to be called “Amys” until Amy found out and got upset thinking Danny was making fun of her. Quasimorphs like Amy are very prone to take innocent mistakes as slights.

 

Contact Education:

 

Adams Cemetery, Carnacki Foundation, Pax, Busiek Medical Clinic

 

Adams Cemetery is Danny’s favorite place to hang out, so adding it to his contact education made sense. As part of his education, Danny keeps the grounds clean, helps visitors find what they’re looking for, and keeps the ghosts company. He also interviews recently formed ghosts–but only under the supervision of a Carnacki Foundation psychopomp (it’s probably not best to ask a newly formed ghost “Wow! What did your corpse look like?”). 

 

The Carnacki Foundation is one of Danny’s big contacts. He’s not sure what he wants to be when he grows up, but given how much he likes ghosts–he has far more ghosts than humans for friends–psychopomp seems a likely possibility. The Carnacki Foundation shows Danny how to talk to ghosts of all kinds and cultures, and it’s helped Danny learn how to talk to people. Neither man nor ghost likes to have someone monopolize the conversation with anatomy factoids.

 

The Foundation takes Danny around the world through the Interway. He’s visited the House of Spirits and Palace of Ghosts in New Orleans, Ernest Light the Living Cemetery in Texas, the Borderland, and other major haunts. Danny is known to the “world beyond the veil,” and has been told that “His ghost will be held in a place of honor in the event of his physical demise.”

 

It warmed his heart to hear that.

 

Major congratulations are in order for Dr. Jefferson for scoring Pax as one of Danny’s contacts. Pax has historically been very leery about visitors. King Justice declares that his earthbound afterlife beneath the sea is meant to be quiet, and humans by their nature make far too much noise, especially in water. Danny is one of a handful of students allowed to visit Pax, and is honored to have the privilege. Being in such a quiet, contemplative place will hopefully temper Danny’s chatterbox tendencies.

 

Danny’s final contact is the Busiek medical clinic. Becoming a psychopomp under the Carnacki Foundation is one path he may take through life, but medical science is another. At the clinic, Danny gets to look at all the body parts he wants, and learn how they’re attached/detached from patients. He’s seen standard rejuvenation treatments and organ replacement, but he’s also seen secondary hyperstasis treatments. He’s seen how natural skin is peeled back and replaced with bulletproof skin, how wings are inserted into shoulder blades, how retractable, light-altering membranes are implanted between the eye and zygomatic, and how extra fingers are added to the hand–common for people that want stronger grips like rock climbers and wrestlers.

 

He’s loved every minute of it.

 

As one might assume, Danny isn’t training to be a doctor. His bedside manner would be something for the books if he ever became one (“Look at these scans of your cancer, Ms. Jenkins! Don’t they look just like snow? Or crystals? Pretty, aren’t they!). Rather, Danny is learning to take what he’s taught himself through his “costumes” and apply it to macrophysiological surgery. 

 

Hyperstasis:

 

Soul Manipulation.

 

Danny and Adams Cemetery

 

Danny always liked the weird and unusual. The Monster League was his favorite superteam, Flip Falcon’s You Better Believe It! was his favorite book. He listened to every episode of Ms. Cryptic’s Weird America and watched every episode of the Fortean Society’s Lo! A Mystery!

 

A native of Joyous Harbor, Danny loved hanging around Adams Cemetery, but hanging around any cemetery would have marked Danny as weird.

 

Cemeteries have developed a strong, eerie mystique since rejuvenation technology took off in the 1950’s. Rarely do cemeteries receive a new burial, and it makes the news whenever it happens. Most deaths these days are suicides, and suicides usually aren’t buried. In ancient times this was because suicide was taboo and profane, in modern times this is because suicides are taboo and embarrassing. Family members that have a suicide drop into their laps know that burials attract a lot of eyes for being so rare, so they typically opt for other forms of body disposal. Star burial has become common since the Constellation Mappers introduced it to the planet in the 50’s. It’s discrete, inexpensive, and quick. Family members bring the body to a teleporter linked to the heart of a star, most often the sun, say a few words, observe a few religious/cultural rites, pass a light over the body, and wash their hands of everything.

 

Cemeteries are thought of as “places from the past.” They’re a collection of old stones marking the passing of old people from old times. They’re basically parks from another world, a world where death was more common and its effects more tangible and harder to ignore. Some communities have even removed their cemeteries entirely, moving them to Ernest Light so he can incorporate them into himself, because they’re seen as “disheartening reminders of a more barbaric and brutal time.” Other communities treat their cemeteries as historic landmarks, which honors the dead, but makes it difficult for people to walk by, touch the stones, leave flowers, and remember. Cemeteries were made for the living as well as the dead, and that’s a sentiment that seems on its way out in the modern era. It’s interesting that Danny’s supername “the Gaffer” can mean “an old man.” In hanging around Adams Cemetery, Danny is like an old soul in a young body, an inhabitant of a bygone world.

 

Some cemeteries still get used as cemeteries. People with dangerous lifestyles still die. Rejuvenation treatments can only do so much if someone, for instance, touches antimatter. Superheroes live very dangerous lives, and cemeteries used by superheroes still have their ground upturned from time to time.

 

Joyous Harbor’s Adams Cemetery is used by superheroes, particularly the Fishermen, and freshly cut stones stand next to weathered rocks to mark generations of sacrifice. Fresh ghosts create a beacon of odylic force which draws older and less coherent ghosts to surface. Adams Cemetery is thus a hotbed of manesological activity. The Carnacki Foundation has a building right next to it. It’s also Danny’s favorite place to be out of all of Joyous Harbor. It’s where his friends are.

 

Age is a process as alien to a ghost as breathing or eating. A person’s ghost does not have to be their physical match. People die at the age of eighty and leave ghosts in the form of their twelve year old self. How much a ghost resembles a person is, in manesological terms, determined by the “sah” component, and the sah can vary as much as skin and hair color in humans. 

 

Not only are there the ghosts of children, but there are child ghosts, and though these two types differ in origin, they match in temperament. Children will be children, and children like talking to other children. 

 

The ghosts of Adams Cemetery like Danny. They like his youth and spirit. The ghosts of cemeteries rarely see smiles, and Danny is always smiling. And the ghost children especially like him. The Carnacki Foundation psychopomps that attend to ghosts tend to be adults with weird names like Dr. Metempsychosis and Dr. Darknight. They love that Danny is just another child who wants to play tag with them between the tombstones, and Danny appreciates how open they are with themselves. Child ghosts don’t freeze him out like adult ghosts do when he asks them how their body looked when they died.

 

“What did you look like when you died?”

 

“Kind of like a bowl of tomato soup with stuff in it.”

 

“Cool! How did that happen?”

 

“I was run over by a steamroller!”

 

“Super cool!”

 

Danny’s Hyperstasis

 

It was while hanging out with his ghostly pals that Danny underwent primary hyperstasis. He wanted to touch his friends, and he found that he could. He reached his hand out, and he felt one of his friends as a little ball of light pulsing like an excited heart in his hand. His ghostly pals were excited to find that they could feel Danny as much as he could feel them. He felt warm. Danny gave them the sensation of physical contact, and many wept tears of mist to remember the feeling.

 

Whenever he touched a ghost, they turned into a little ball of light for a time. This never harmed the ghost, and many liked the sensation of scrunching into a tiny ball, comparing it to a “nice stretch.” Danny also found that he could draw ghosts to himself like a magnet. It made him the king of freeze tag.

 

Something to note here: Danny’s appearance, mannerisms, and general Danny-ness might lead a person to conclude that his powers are harmless. They are anything but. Danny can point to a ghost, any ghost, and bang, they’re a tiny orb of light helpless in his hand. And he can do this to people as well. He can pull the soul out of a person causing all sorts of odylic complications–numbness, confusion, memory loss, and death to name but a few.

 

Now obviously, Danny would never abuse his powers. He would never dream of hurting anyone with his powers. But it’s important to note the destructive potential of his power in case he’s ever mind controlled. Mind control happen to anyone, and we have to be on-guard since the BOL has targeted our students for “education.”

 

When Danny turns a ghost into an orb, what he calls a “firefly,” their odylic energy, also known as the “khet” component of the soul, is strengthened. Odylic energy lies at the border of the Astral and physical universe and governs how ghosts interact with matter and energy.

 

As fireflies, Danny’s ghost friends were able to possess and control objects. Danny and his gang had great fun with this ability. Danny had a large collection of action figures and models, and his gang had wonderful times staging cosmic battles in the shade of tombstones. The older ghosts had fun watching. It brought to life memories they thought long extinguished.

 

Danny’s toys had lots of points of articulation, but they weren’t anything like real bodies. There was always a bit of blockiness to how they moved. And he learned about somatic manes in his middle school manesology class, Danny wondered if he couldn’t make his own for his friends to use

 

He had a couple of ideas he wanted to try out, and he knew what material he wanted to use. 

 

It wouldn’t be the usual protoplasm and metal used for somatic manes. And his somatic manes wouldn’t look like somatic manes.

 

He got his ideas from school. Biology class was his favorite class in middle school. He was blown away by anatomy. He marveled at CRS programs that pulled back skin and muscle on photite models to show the interconnected wonder of the human body. Dissecting frogs was trying for some, but to Danny it was eye-opening. Bodies were machines, and he could see how all the parts fit together. He marveled at the complexity of himself, of other people, and of all living things. 

 

And then he learned about a man named Honore Fragonard and his many, many ecorches (a fancy way of saying “flayed corpses arranged for theatrical effect”). Fragonard’s craft was what really inspired Danny. Fragonard (whose name has no doubt caused many a bad day for people who keyword “Fragonard” expecting pretty Rococo paintings) was an 18th century anatomist who created thousands of anatomical pieces, but his ecorches were always the most eye-catching, especially one of a human riding a horse (also flayed). He worked as an anatomy professor for six years before he was expelled for being a madman. That made him super-cool to Danny.

 

Danny decided that he would create “costumes” for his friends, special bodies that would allow them to do things they only dreamed about doing when they were alive. He decided that he would create bodies out of bodies. His costumes would be his art, and bodies would be his medium.

 

Now answer the most common question we get about Danny–how on Earth did he get ahold of so many bodies to cut up and stitch back together?

 

Believe it or not, it’s not hard at all to get bodies these days, not like it used to be. Before the 1940’s, corpses occupied a peculiar legal position as “quasi-property.” You couldn’t, for instance, ask to keep your mother’s skull as a religious item or memento mori or sentimental object or whatever (in the event of his demise, Danny has requested that his skull be made into a birdfeeder). Abuse of corpse laws, though created to prevent just that, were very broad in what was considered “abuse.” You couldn’t request to have yourself stuffed and mounted and put in a museum of weirdos. You couldn’t request for your skeleton to be put up as a Halloween decoration. There was simply no way to put the “fun” in funeral, nor was there a way to do what Danny does. A Danny of the 1930’s would have been jailed (and a Danny of the 1830’s would probably have ended up like the Frankenstein creature at the end of 1931’s Frankenstein).

 

But the laws were changed in the 1940’s to allow for what was known as “telepathy induced somatic rearmament,” which was a euphemistic way of describing military’s practice of telepathically reanimating and telekinetically puppeteering deceased superhumans to put them back in the fight. The Worlds War was a war. Superhumans were too valuable as fighters to be allowed to rest just because they lost a head.

 

With “rearmament” legal, it was only a short time before civilians were allowed to sell their bodies to the military. There was no reason not to make what was compulsory voluntary, especially when many superhumans, soldiers or otherwise, were totally fine with their corpses being used to give the Axis hell. Since civilians were allowed to earmark their bodies for weapons, it naturally followed that they would be able to earmark their bodies for a variety of purposes.

 

You’d be amazed how many people earmark their bodies for “aesthetic projects.” Most people don’t think about what to do with their bodies. Death is something that’s way off peoples’ minds these days. But the ones that think about what they want done with their bodies really give it some thought (Danny drew a diagram of how he wants his skull birdfeeder to look). There’s a business based in Texas called Corpse Connection all about providing bodies, human or otherwise, for aesthetic projects. All bodies have chain of custody documentation and are ethically sourced. Corpse Connection’s biggest customer, besides Danny, is a British artist named Marcel Lumpere known for his collaborations with Damian Hirst and for art installations where he poses corpses in coffee shop tableaus with department store mannequins as a critique of Capitalism, or rejuvenation treatments, or something like that. Marcel and Damian are currently under investigation for suspected BOL activities.

 

Now that you know how Danny is able to get all the bodies he needs to make his “costumes” for his “fireflies,’ you’re probably wondering where he stores all of them and where he works on all of them. Originally, he got a grant from the Statesmen not only to purchase bodies from Corpse Connection but to convert a tiny Fishermen outpost on one of the coastal islands into a workshop. Everything would be built and assembled by his “fireflies.” It’s pretty easy to furnish a base when all the furniture and equipment walks to where they need to be.

 

His grant was so well-written and his diagrams for “corpse-based somatic manes” so professional that whoever stamped it failed to check what he put on the “age” line. So technically, his grant broke the rules, but so much good came of his costumes that no one wants to shut down his workshop. And besides, it’s not as if the Statesmen haven’t made exceptions for child supergeniuses before. Some of those kids really do know what they’re doing, and Danny is one such kid. Strange as it may sound, he’s well within his rights to run and operate a corpse workshop even though he’s too young to buy alcohol or cigarettes. He has to ask the Statesmen to purchase the ethanol for his special embalming fluid mix in his place.

 

Danny’s “costumes” are not like typical somatic manes, and the distinction is not only because he builds them out of bodies. Somatic manes tend to be very dignified and grandiose objects. The ones made to look like humans look like Greek statues, idealized Vitruvian constructs, the kind that get stamped on space probes as EXAMPLES OF EARTH INHABITANTS. The ones made to not look human are dignified and grandiose in a self-conscious, alien way that says “I am a ghost, not a human, I do not have to look like a human.” They’re floating geometric shapes, giant spidery machines with icicle legs, and impressionistic shadows made of metal filings suspended in magnetic fields.

 

If typical somatic manes are formal wear designed for adult ghosts to impress other adults, then Danny’s costumes are toys meant for child ghosts to play with, and it’s frankly incredible that it took until now for someone to think about toys for child ghosts. I suppose it takes someone that thinks far outside the box, that sees things differently from the average person, to see what was in front of us the whole time.

 

As socially awkward as Danny is, he’s a visionary. The proof is in how his “fireflies” have taken to his “costumes.” They love them. They love being creepy, crawly, and climby. Think back to when you were like, six years old. Didn’t you like to pretend to be an animal or monster, to have wings or walk on all fours? Didn’t you like to swim like a fish and climb like a monkey? Danny’s costumes are vulgar, nightmarish, and ghoulish–but also fun, lots and lots of fun. And kids love them.

 

Danny’s Costumes

 

Some of Danny’s more common costumes are described below:

 

Fiji Mermaids: These costumes are based on the infamous Fiji mermaid of huckster P.T. Barnum. Half monkey, half fish, Fiji mermaids are designed to climb trees and swim through water. They are apparently, very fun to use. That tracks. Kids love climbing, and kids love swimming. Fiji mermaids do both.

 

Honore Guards: A play on Honore, as in Honore Fragonard, and Honor Guards. These flayed skeletons can use their ribbons of skin to collect rocks, carry dolls, and sling objects. After researching the mechanics of archaic weaponry (the classic guide to bows, shields, and other archaic weaponry designed for superhumans, Forge of the Gods, was a major help), Danny was able to craft skin folds on the arms as effective as anything Trickshot or Captain David ever used.

 

Button Frogs: These sequined frogs are for playing at night. Their buttons are bioluminescent cysts that can glow in a variety of patterns (common ones include smiley faces and arrows) and their booming voices have distinct modulation. Button frogs are great for playing nighttime treasure hunters. 

 

Chupacabros: A combination of rat and lizard, Danny got the idea for chupacabros after researching the chupacabras of another universe for his multiverse studies class. Chupacabros are great for lounging around. They feel comfortable regardless of the weather or climate. They’re also great for snuggling. They’re bros.

 

Flying Monkeys: These are exactly what you think they are. Danny got the idea for them in multiverse studies class when they did a unit on Oz and studied the famous winged monkeys of Winkie Country. He got very skilled putting monkey torsos together to make his Fiji mermaids, so it wasn’t hard for him to figure out how to give monkeys wings. Unlike the winged monkeys of Oz, his monkeys can’t fly, only glide. He hasn’t figured out how to make them fly yet, but he’s confident that with a little experimentation he’ll figure it out. He’s sure the solution involves hollowing the bones while building up the muscles, he just needs to find just the right ratio between muscle power and bone lightness.

 

Amys: Amys, also known as drip drops, are a creation Danny isn’t entirely satisfied with. He was inspired to create them after observing the quasimorph Amy Beck, aka Heart of Gold, in his form mastery class. Amys are essentially puddles of moving protoplasm ordered from RUR with flexible protein spines for stability and support similar to what jellyfish have. His ghosts say Amys are fun to use. If you ever wondered what it would feel like to be a ball of clay, Amys give you perhaps the closest experience, but Danny feels something is missing. It’s too formless. It needs something, but he doesn’t know what. He wants to talk to Amy Beck about it and see if he can’t get more inspiration from her, but he knows she doesn’t like being compared to a puddle.

 

Little People: Sometimes, a ghost just wants to be an old fashioned somatic manes in an old fashioned body that looks like an everyday human. Fun is fun, but not even children want to have fun all the time. Danny thinks these creations are boring, but they’re a great display of his ability. People don’t believe it when you tell them that he cobbled them together from different body parts. The resulting body is too perfect, too symmetrical, they think they have to be natural bodies or protoplasm bodies machined into shape in robot factories. Nope, they’re all Danny.

 

The Second Blanket Boy

 

Danny likes to field-test his “costumes” across Joyous Harbor, particularly on the coastal islands which gives him the chance to try his costumes out on land and sea. He romps around the city with a large jar containing his “firefly” friends (it’s important to keep them all in one place lest they possess a random object and get stuck) and small phials inside his coat containing his “costumes.” These costumes are kept small by mixing in the Phantom Planck’s shrinking formula with formaldehyde and rapidly expand to their normal size when exposed to air.

 

Danny’s adventures testing out his costumes throughout Joyous Harbor brought him into the public eye. His enthusiasm reminded Joyous Harbor of a certain other eager young superhuman, and Danny quickly became known as the “second Blanket Boy.”

 

Danny finally got a chance to interact with Matthew when he enrolled as a Freshman in Martin’s, and Matthew told him to try and “man-up” as soon as possible. He told him that chicks dug men, not boys, and that if he’s not careful he’s going to seriously regret his adorable reputation in a year or two.


But Danny doesn’t care for his reputation. He’s never cared. People think he’s weird and that’s bad, people think he’s cute and that’s bad, it seems to him that the root of all his problems is what other people think about him. And since he’s never figured out how to change what people think about him, he’s concluded that its best to not bother trying. People will do what people will do, and while they do so he’ll be off to the side practicing his craft.

 

Danny’s friends are either ghosts or his teachers. It’s one thing that sets him apart from the first Blanket Boy. Matthew had Simon Wheeler and Will Blake. We feel that Danny is shutting himself off from potential friendships, and he’s probably going to need those friendships as he gets older. There’s nothing wrong with having ghosts as friends, but there are complications. Age is for humans. Ghosts don’t age. They tend to be what they are indefinitely. There are ghosts of bronze age warriors who still hold grudges against city states that no longer exist. Danny’s friends are not growing up with him. This has caused some friction. His “fireflies” have noticed that he’s been spending more and more time away from them. Danny has less and less time to play as he gets older. He’s got his education contacts. He’s got two advanced classes. He’s got to learn how to talk with and negotiate with adult ghosts. He’s got to learn how to build organs for emergency surgery.

 

He’s got a lot to do. That is what it means to grow up, to have a lot to do.

 

It’s a good thing Danny hasn’t discovered girls yet. That’s going to be quite the can of worms when it happens, and him drifting apart from his ghost friends is enough of a time bomb.

 

Behavior:

 

Good

 

Danny is a sweet child, Ms. Cryptic says that he’s like a little light running into her lab going “Ms. C! Ms. C! Look what I made today!” but he’s a little clueless when it comes to social graces. He loves his “costumes” and his “fireflies” and wants to share that love with the world–even if the world is repulsed or disinterested. If the person he’s trying to talk to doesn’t run away screaming from the fishtailed monkey corpse that just grew out of a tiny vial, they’re going to tune him out when he starts rambling about connective tissue and odylic theory.

 

Danny is aware that he’s awkward in social situations, and unfortunately that means he tries to avoid them. He’s at a critical point in his life as a freshman. We need to make sure Danny learns how to socialize without him sacrificing anything that makes him wonderfully unique.

 

Appearance:

 

Danny is drawn to the aesthetics of asymmetry. Like creations, like creator. He wears baseballs caps with bowties and shorts with trench coats. He’s as much a mix-and-match as his “costumes.”

 

Danny is small for his age, and it contributes to his feelings of alienation. Other boys are putting on muscle and growing hair, but he continues to look like a middle schooler. Girls find him cute, but just cute, and he’s worried he’s never going to find a date, not that girls weigh too heavily on his mind. His craft remains his one true love.