Starlight Toy Galore And Repair Center

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height will make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane, then the good leg, and THEN the leg that needs help.

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

Clockwork had to finally admit to the other ancients that he couldn't handle it. But of all people to tell him that it was a recipe for disaster, it was UNDERGROWTH?! UNDERGROWTH TOLD HIM FIRST! AS. A. WEED?! He's the literal concept of time! He had the patience to do this!

---

He did not. He didn't listen to the ancient of dreams who told him his grandson was a literal nightmare. Nor did he listen to the ancient of ice who wasn't doubting that the great one could easily be fueled by spite. The boy was half human and a growing ghost. He's been villainized for so long that Amity could hardly be called his haunt anymore. His grandkids were indeed statistically and cosmic anomalies. But for all that's good in the world, he had the patience to know the realm would choose a new king. One who didn't desire to conquer each half-ass rock the living deemed a keep, a home.

But that was where he made his mistake. For there was only one family that truly tested his patience before this. None of that could prepare him for the person that can and will get into his personal space. He couldn't bear it anymore when all of his robes were replaced with inflatable T-Rex costumes. He couldn't bare that the coffee machine gifted to him always poured a hot and delicious brew turned to a popsicle when it makes contact with his tongue. And the NOOT NOOTS! He couldn't bear to move when even the slightest twitch would bring on the onslaught of clay penguins that stood still in the corners of his eyes. MENACINGLY! He could only freeze time in 10-second intervals for a moment of peace. But that time was getting shorter. The longer the boy king was gone, the more he was getting used to the bridge of space-time, and it showed to no one but him. 10 turned to 8 and then to 6. By the time it got to 3, Clockwork was reduced to a sobbing mess. Bad enough that the Observants tried to comfort him. THE OBSERVANTS!!! Of all the things he had to interrupt because of the timelines being in danger, it was the day his grandson was going to the observatory with friends after promising he'd leave the boy alone for a month. He couldn't even let him go for five hours. He needed a break. And his grandson needed less time on his hands.

How was he doing all this and still keeping up with lessons and paperwork? How could he hide his devilish smile from the other ancients and make them think Clockwork was going mad?! He needed someone. Anyone. NO! NOT ANYONE! Vlad, the GIW, and his own parents were fair enough to show that not everyone would treat his demonic grandson kindly or allow him free will. Wait a minute. Demonic? Oh? Oh, this could work. - Not a billionaire fruit loop: Check. - Deals with levels of the occult: Not most denizens, but it's a start. Check. - Someone leading a heroic life without being a hero. ... Check. - Snarky: CHECK!CHECK!CHECK! Clockwork could cry with the intrinsic connection they shared to be there at the right time. The mountain of paperwork involving this man was just the cherry on top! NOOT- He sucked that tear right back in. He had a plan. He could do this! At least until his grandson forgives him. Hopefully. Now, how does he deliver the news?

Guys I need some help. I have the beginning of an idea but no idea where to go from it.

I read somewhere about how Danny bought all of Constantine contracts because of all the fighting and paperwork he had to do over it. But what if Constantine's punishment came from Clockwork instead of Danny? The punishment?

John Constantine is now the legal adult of Danny "I'm already half dead so why not" Phantom. Who does whatever he wants cause literally why not?

(Please add onto this I desperately want to see where this will go)

you know what's funny? all the Justice Leage|DC x Danny Phantom crossover fics, that start with or otherwise include the premise of the Justice League (often led by Justice League Dark, and John Constantine in particular) summoning the new Ghost King to ascertain his threat status.

like. there's something very human about that. believing that, because you have named yourselves the defenders of your world, that you have any authority to demand answers of interdimensional royalty -- of anyone, really. the Green Lanterns, sure, they're quite literally a universal force and are such recognized. but only thru the lands that agree to that or are included in a sector that is under any Lantern Corps jurisdiction.

the Infinite Realms are under no one's jurisdiction but their own, so the thought of the justice league demanding answers from them is akin to a random child coming up to you in the airport and demanding you give them something. like, I'll entertain this conversation cause you're adorable but also, you have no power here, child. where is your adult?

and, from what I've seen, no one can get Constantine to do what he doesn't want or need to do. not even Batman, who is just a man.

so he'd love to be holed up in the House of Mysteries, leaving the capes to mess around and find out. but then that would make it his responsibility, so he's there to oversee the summoning and step in if neeeded, but personally has no desire to add another curse to his coat.

anywho, I'm just imagining the Justice League summoning Ghost King Danny and demanding answers and, like any teenager who knows he'll have no repercussions for doing so, he tells them to fuck off (imagine, if you will, the same joy you feel when your parents say that you're allowed to go against the rules in school because the rules are arbitrary and self-serving at best and harmful at worst, and you won't get in trouble for it even if you get detention/suspended at school)

and they're all aghast cause, what? who do you think you're talking to? and Danny's all, no, who do you think you're talking to? I am the King of the Infinite Realms, Protector of Amity Park, Keeper of the Stars, *insert all his other random titles a la Thor and Loki stalling*, and you do not make demands of me, mortal. then he just dips, cause really? a tiny lil containment circle? ha!

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

How could I not? 😂

Prompt #3- It’s on Fright

Summoning has never been off the table. In fact Danny welcomes it.

At least after the first 50 he did.

Now it’s just getting repetitive. Destroy the world, end this specific race, person, sexuality. He’s really heard it all and it honestly sucks. He’s a protective spirit damn it!

Look at all the high and mighty people and cultists that would call on him for their mortal issues? It's even more annoying to listen to the whiney people who think they're entitled to his power or his time.

So he did what he should've done this whole time. If ghosts are strong enough emotional echoes, why shouldn't it be the same way? He establishes a connection between his summoning circle. If the caster's intent when casting the spell is for anything other than protecting life, its free game. Que the registration of numerous ghost to send an echo of themself to fuck with the people who thought they could fuck with the king. Of course, there are rules. You're only there for a short window. No killing is permitted unless a caster is hostile and a threat to ghosts. Ensure the safety and good health of human sacrifices. Blah,blah, blah. But most importantly, make them regret ever casting the spell in the first place. Upon numerous heroes failing to stop the summoning in time, there's a vast amount of random shit that happens further proves to not fuck with the realms. Batman can only hear the nostalgic music before witnessing the lead cultist that nabbed Jason get hit by an ice cream truck driven by a muscular man and little girl in uniforms. Tim and could agree that their soft serve was the best they ever had. Hal comes onto the cultists being forced into a tea party and learning their table manners from a blue dragon in a gorgeous dress and tiara. Flash comes up to Shazam and a lanky grey figure with glasses discussing Justice League fanfiction while the cultists have to cosplay the members and live out their found family dreams. Spectra is having the time of her life honestly. Talking things out with depressed kids to work through those feelings or being allowed to pay a certain clown a visit time and time again for her good work along with, spooking frats and sororities.

Superman has been quick to react to cultists after a little demon of a girl promised to return if he wasn't treating his clone better to not repeat the beatdown that was personally recorded and handed to Lex to make if he agreed to make merch from it. Most summon sites are Jumpscare Central or a straight up scrap. It's also a wonderful chance for Spectra to give the bats what they fear most. THERAPY!!! Under Jasmine's supervision, of course. JLD has heard the outcries of the JL and still keeps their good standing with the king to themselves. Especially that said king is over every Friday with treats and gifts from throughout the ages. He's fallen for the blonde warlock that has always been able to reliably call on him because he only does it when ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY! Danny found it odd that the only person who could call him now was a sad Brit in a trenchcoat but a conversation or two had them see that they were often than not on the same wavelength. Sick of their duty, in need of a drink, and helping the world to the best of their ability. John is just so human and reminds him of how he is too. That soon applies to Zatanna too, who's distraught from leading. Besides, what happens in the House of Mysteries stays in the House of Mysteries.

redraw of that meme going around. i know danny would do this shit

TUMBLR IS FINALLY FEEDING ME CONSTANTINE POST! LET'S GO!!!

having fun with formal wear >>>

Dp x dc prompt

Redhood didn't like people who took advantage of children. Fucking hated them.

So when he heard of a new crime lord employing children in there area, he had to put a bullet between that fucker's eyes. Apperently, the guy ran the original gang out of town and set the kids off on petty crime. Stealing money. Food, clothes, in some cases, even drugs.

Redhood stood outside an abandoned building, gun at the ready. There was no security, no goons. Did this guy know he was coming? Is this a trap? Redhood shook off his worries. No matter. He's just gotta get this bastard before it could get any worse.

He crept through raftors and boxes. He listened for footsteps. Step step step. The footsteps were heavy and dragging, sluggish. According to eye witnesses, the crime lord tended to drag his feet, maybe limp even.

Redhood slid out of hiding, pressed his gun up to the back of the man's head, and-

It was a kid. The kid turned around, so irely calm. His long black air hung down, obscuring his face, but Redhood could clearly see the way his pale sickly skin sank into his bones. How his dull blue eyes seamed to gloss over and stare into his soul. Almost daring him to pull the trigger. Yet, despite the dark of the warehouse, he almost seemed to glow.

"So?" He asked.

"Wha- so what?" Redhood asked. He was shaking. He hasn't put the gun down.

"Are you going to pull the trigger or not? I mean, you've got a clear shot. I just ask you to clean up after. The kids don't need to see that," The teen slowly blinked at him. Redhood slowly lowered the gun. Just a gang of kids run rampant, yeah. That's what this is.

The kid hummed and began to walk off. Redhood couldn't really call it walking or even limping. It looked more like dragging a nearly dead leg. Now that he was close, he could see it. The dragging leg, the dead arm in a sling. The lichtenberg scars crawled up his face, reaching his eye, blinded and half shut. How did this kid run a whole gang out of town?

Red Hood followed him. The kid only gave his a brief glance before shrugging. Redhood followed him to the back of the warehouse, where a group of kids slept. Redhood recognised them, street kids. All either homeless or too scared to go home.

"They helped me," the kid whispered, "I got rid of those people because I hated the way they hurt the people around them, and when I fell sick, those kids stepped up to help. The least I can do is give them a place to stay."

"You fell sick? You weren't always like this?"

"No. I used to be a lot stronger, braver," The kid gave a heavy sigh before slowly lowering himself to the ground. Crossing his legs and resting his head on his hand, "Now I can barely move without aching, I feel like an old man trapped in a teenager's body."

Redhood glanced between him and the sleeping kids. He was helping them, housing them. In return, they were stealing food and medicine for their sick friend, and Rehood almost shot him.

"My name is Danny, by the way," The kid- Danny grumbled.

Redhood sighed and sat down next to him, "Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Redhood."

Batfam and Danny, Part 24

One night while in patrol.

Barbara (over the coms): Nightwing, Spoiler, I need you two to head to Gotham City Bank, there's a robbery in progress.

Dick and Steph: On it!

Barbara: Batman, Red Hood, and Phamtom, I need you in the harbor, the Penguin is sneaking in some kind of nuclear material.

Bruce: Can you see what kind?

Barbara: Working on it.

Bruce: Got it, on my way.

Jason: On it!

Danny: See you guys there!

Barnard: Red Robin, Robin, I need you two at Gotham Museum, Condiment King just broke in.

Damian: Got it!

Tim: Got it- wait, Barnard!?

Barbara (holding back laughter): Red Robin! How many times do I have to say this? Code names!

Tim (confused): I'm sorry what's happening?

Barnard: Well I've seen how hard you and your family always work, as well as Superboy and his family, so I decided I also wanted to help. I asked Superboy and he recommend I ask Oracle if she needed an extra set of hands.

Barbara: Which I gladly accepted, all of you are a lot to deal with.

Barnard: Batman approved, so now I'm in the clocktower with Oracle.

Tim (happy): Really? You did all that for me? You and Superboy are always looking out for me.

Barnard: Of course, we do anything for you, and by the way my code name is The Prophet.

Tim: Welcome to the team, Prophet.

Barnard: Thank you Red Robin.

Damian: This is cute and all, but I still need you at the museum Red Robin.

Tim: On my way!

(Master Post)