Striking Fear

Daniel didn't ask what Walker did with Plasmius.

It was difficult to measure the passage of time in the Ghost Zone. Hours could bleed into days into weeks, only to find the night had yet to go by. Time passed in some form, however, and the memories of his master faded. He did not sleep as a human would, but he did not exist in the same endless waking state that other ghosts occupied. In his own fashion, the clone dreamed. Broken labs and broken promises. The shivering heat of his master's fingers brushing along the back of his neck. A tight band locked around his neck that offered freedom instead of imprisonment.

He dreamed, but that didn't mean he understood.

There were tasks and training in Walker's prison and he tried so very hard to make himself useful. The prospect of freedom and choice bewildered him and he never strayed far from the warden's side. At times he didn't know if he had truly made a choice for greater freedom or merely swapped one master for another. Walker demanded loyalty, but not the blind obedience that was programmed into the clone's very structure.

So he waited, and he watched, and tried to learn how to be someone other than himself.

He had sent summons for the Knight and waited in front of his ghost portal. Daniel clung to his cape and tried to stay out of sight.

Daniel's skin was soft and pink, as though he'd been harshly scrubbed. The clone tensed at Vlad's gentle touch, fingertips ghosting along his cheeks. His muscles loosened and he smiled. "Master." His voice was a weak and wounded thing.

Vlad smiled down at his creation. His son. "You're all better now, my boy." Dark blue eyes and soft black hair. Daniel looked so human now. "I fixed you." He spread his palm across Daniel's cheek and the boy leaned his head into Vlad's touch. "Human or ghost form now. "Jack's little halfling spawn was actually useful. Hush now," he said to Daniel's distressed expression. "We don't need him anymore. I got what we needed from him and now he's far away, in Walker's dungeon."

He pulled the boy from the containment unit, helping Daniel struggle to his feet. The boy's hands were cold, even through Vlad's thick shirt. Vlad hugged Daniel tight against his chest. "There are a few things we need to take care of and then everything will be over. One last fight It will be just you and I."

Daniel snuggled into Vlad's chest. He couldn't see the haunted look that crossed his master's face.

He tried not to think about them, about those two left behind who might have been his family.

Vlad buried himself in his work instead.

Daniel was a clever enough riddle to distract him for a time, at least.

The first time had been marked with cold, deliberate silence. A death of sorts in time that had birthed the first few failures and later the female clone. A minor modification to stabilize the DNA, an experiment within the experiment. Every step meticulously calculated and measured, each scrap of DNA hoarded and protected. It had been a deliberate gambit to set the inferior clones against Daniel, testing each one's durability and endurance. Only Danielle had been clever enough to survive, proving her manufacture process a success. All an experiment, all variables and tests and little slivers of chaos.

But all of it done deliberately.

Daniel was conceived in a moment of frenzied confusion. There were notes and videos and recordings, all neatly preserved in Vlad's clipped handwriting and tones. Vlad had read them and watched them countless times. His words and his motions, echoed a thousand times in pure digital clarity. If only Vlad could remember a single moment of it. The clone was a precious little thing, balanced between mental capacity to think and feel and survive on his own and blind, unyielding loyalty to Vlad. Balanced between destruction and an eternity as a ghost with no chance at humanity.

Daniel was a safer conundrum to consider than Kwan and Lyonell.

A would-be son on one hand, a would-be mate on the other. And he had cast out both.

Easier now, perhaps, to seek out his artificial son, his little ghostling lost in the zone. Unlike Danielle, the clone had no fortuitous family to cling to.

Only Vlad.

It suddenly felt strange to drive, an alien habit once again ingrained after weeks of being unable to fly. Vlad drove without attention to speed limits or traffic signs. Soon, that power would once again crackle at his fingertips, strength enough to topple empires if used properly. A lovely enough lie to tell himself as his car came to a halt in front of Lyonell's house. A mantra, repeated over and over again. Such harsh grandeur that he had to construct around the simple truth that he must do this or die in order to be able to even contemplate the actions.

Yes, his power would be restored to him.

But at what cost?

It had been days and still the hollow echo of his missing half remained. Vlad had little doubt it would ever fade until he found what was missing and put all of his pieces back together. He needed silence, needed solitude. He caught himself shaking as he put the last few pieces of clothing into his bag. Time to move into his new home. It was a large Victorian, renovated extensively by both human and ghostly workers. Fortunate it was so close to Lyonell's neighborhood, and doubly fortunate there were no immediate neighbors. Vlad had made certain of that weeks ago.

So many things to do. People to face. It was the first time since the portal incident that he had shown his face in Lyonell's home. He didn't look forward to whatever conversations lay ahead.

Vlad woke up.

An echo split across his head. There was no such thing as deafening silence. A lack, a terrible lack, however, left him numb. Some faint hum of power muted now, ripping apart and flung from him until only the pain-numbed wound remained to remind him that something had ever existed in the first place.

A faint imprint of concrete was pebbled into his cheek. Vlad struggled to sit up and brushed the dust from his face. He clutched his forehead and a groan fell from his lips. He leaned against the cold metal wall of the lower lab. Something had gone wrong. The portal. A mist. The boy--

Daniel!

A cold panic lanced through him and Vlad bolted upright. The boy, his boy, his son. Torn. Torn away and something torn away with him.

His fingers rattled across the keypad next to the portal and he splayed his palm over the panel that sprang out after the correct code was entered.

"Access denied. Access denied. Ecto-signature not detected."

Vlad growled and slapped his palm down again.

"Access denied. Access denied. Ecto-signature not detected."

He sank to the floor. "Daniel. Where are you?" He covered his face with his hands. "And where is the rest of me?"

=====

"Daniel? Where are you?" There was an echo of a thought that plagued after the first, but Plasmius shook his head and shook off the annoying echo. He was right there, right where he belonged.

The clone popped up from behind a pile of rubble. "Sir? Over here. I found something useful."

Plasmius watched as the clone dragged out a bit of machinery that was less crumpled than the rest, barely distinguishable aside from that slight fact. "Very good, Daniel." The clone flushed with pride when Plasmius leaned over and placed a slight kiss to his forehead, ruffling his hair. "Very good. Now. A few more things and I believe it would be best if we left this place. After all, the Observers will return to the ruins of their headquarters eventually."

The clone nodded. He was happy. After all, he was right where he belonged.

It had taken longer than he expected, and a dangerous rebalancing of his already stretched resources. But soon. Vlad checked the printout once again. Something almost like the ghost of a smile curved his lips. "Soon enough." He shuffled the papers and set them down on a nearby work bench. "Just a few more minor details to attend to. Nothing to worry about, my boy." There was no answer as he left the lab.

He tossed and turned in his sleep, movements as restless as the tides. Consciousness clung stubbornly to the inside of his skull and Vlad tried in quiet desperation to scrape it loose and fall into formless oblivion. Time and exhaustion took their toll and at last he slept. It was not, however, a dreamless sleep.

She is in the kitchen, and wears an old plaid button-up shirt. It hanfs from her shoulders and very nicely follows her curves, the long tails tied in a knot just above her navel. Maddie's auburn hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail and a bright smile graces her lips. Daniel splashes happily, bubbles piled in the tufts of his black hair. His blue eyes shine and he gazes at his mother in adoration.

Vlad stilled in his sleep at this image. Then colors deepened and the two frozen figures began to move, like an old Polaroid picture come to life.

He wraps his arms around her waist and looks over her shoulder, smiling down at their son. Maddie nuzzles against him, hand reaching up to touch his own, and Daniel burbles happily up at his father. Vlad reaches down, plucking his boy from the sink, and wraps him in a fresh towel. He holds his son close to his chest and Maddie smiles at them both.

The dream held for one aching moment, one blissful moment, and Vlad was peaceful. But it never lasted long.

Maddie's loving gaze freezes, violet eyes going wide and she takes their son away, cradling him protectively against her. Vlad reaches for them both. Maddie screams and Daniel wails with her when Plasmius' fingers graze against them. He pulls back in his own horror, staring down at his hands. Reaches desperately for them again. "Maddie, Maddie please!"

"Get away from her you spook!"

Horror turns to rage and Plasmius turns to the man wielding the blaster against him, daring to endanger his family! "Leave us alone, Jack!" he roars, hurling an angry ectoblast at him.

Plasmius is the one struck. Maddie clings to Jack as Daniel continues to scream in fear. And his family fades away. Plasmius curls in tight about himself, cape wrapped around him like a shroud. They are gone again and he is left alone to float in this endless inner space. A hand touches his shoulder and he jerks back, glaring over his shoulder at the one that would dare touch him now!

He's met only with a concerned gaze. "Are you alright?"

Before he can answer, the world comes to an end once more.

Vlad was all but yanked from sleep, jerking up and away from his desk as though struck. Desk? But wasn't he-- Never mind. Let it go. Just another long night at the office. Making plans. He rose to his feet and walked deeper into the compounds of Axion Labs, footsteps echoing in the empty hallways.

Then down into the depths.

Deeper than the most secret of the research labs, deeper than his own private testing room. Not even accessible by elevator, he had to phase through the floor down to the deepest level of all, one carved of ghostly technology in the stead of human. It was a small room, barely larger than his closet back at the Renaissance, but served it's purpose well. No light was needed, not when the artifacts provided their own light.

Crown, Ring, Key, and Spear.

Not complete. But time was running out.

"Soon."

It had been a few days since the end of that accursed game. Vlad had decided immediately upon hearing Kwan's version of events that no more delays could be tolerated to the boy's training. Especially considering Daniel's increasingly volatile temper where Kwan was concerned.

Vlad waited patiently by the elevator. The boy would be along shortly. It was their first formal lesson. No more tests, no more practices, no more questions. At last the elevator announced it's arrival with a faint ding, doors sliding open. "Well my boy, are you ready?"

Vlad honestly hoped it didn't come down to killing Jack. Killing the buffoon would distress dear Maddie so much. Better her eyes be opened and she make her own choice. Vlad himself, of course.

He stared out of his office window in the beginnings of a fine brood, mouth creased into a tight line, blue eyes cold. Jack had seen him transform. A simple matter to explain it away as an effect of the game, but surely, not even Jack was dense enough to believe that for long. And young Danielle... Vlad was certain she would seize upon any chance to condemn him in the eyes of her stolen family. Between her and Daniel's hateful words, and Jack's own confounded luck, Maddie would be forever poisoned against him.

He honestly hoped it wouldn't come down to killing Jack.

But Vlad wouldn't dismiss it as a possible necessity.

Once back at the hotel, after regaining consciousness, Vlad took long enough to assure himself that both the boy and the Spear were in one piece before chartering a flight back to America. His shirt was buttoned neatly and tucked tightly into his pants the entire flight. Occasionally, he would scratch idly at his stomach, but scowl and snatch his hand away. Back in Amity Park, he sent the boy off for proper rest in a bed.

Vlad had to see to the Spear, after all. It was locked neatly away with the Crown and Ring. Not quite yet. One final piece to gather, one final puzzle to solve. He gave the Spear a gently stroke before sealing it away. Soon enough.

The next hour was spent scrubbing furiously at his skin in a bathtub. While Dan had safely delivered both him and the boy to the hotel, he had left something of a message for Vlad, succinctly voicing his displeasure. Vlad could only assume over not getting to take home the temple dragon.

Scrawled across his stomach in permanent marker, right above a crude picture of a Pac-man ghost, were the words, "I am a ghost! Eat me!"

((la la la, porn))


Vlad endured the board meeting with a gritted smile that made his jaw ache by the time it was all over. Security had already been contacted. Lyonell would have no problem getting through or being recognized. Sheila herself waited in the lobby for his arrival. And Vlad waited above.

It was late by the time he managed to escape from the office and make his way back to the Renaissance. No flying, not now, not with the Guys in White so unexpectedly prominent. So it was back to the car and back to wrestling with traffic like every other human in Amity Park.

Vlad detested it.

Another long walk through the lobbies and long wait as the elevator rose to the top of the hotel. At least he knew the boy was safe and most likely in bed. Should be, at least. A school night after all.

The Knight was gone. Vlad sat behind his desk, idly turning the pendent in his hands. The boy was safe enough for now, resting at the hotel. He didn't trust himself around Kwan anymore. And now he couldn't trust the Knight. Vlad could feel the stones shifting beneath his fingertips, every bit as elusive and puzzling as his own thoughts. What was he to do with the boy?

There were only so many nights he could spend away at the office or hunched over papers in the small dining area in the hotel suite. Only so many ways he could avoid Kwan Long. It was not a concious decision, not at first. There was just so much that had to be done. Papers and property to acquire. Restoration on the ghost sheild data. It was an honest coincidence that so much of this just happened to involve the two of them separated for long periods of time.

The silence between them was beyond shattered. In it's place was something haunted and strange, some false affection that Vlad could not give proper name to. It was a betrayal of sorts. Of that Vlad had no doubt. A betrayal of Maddie and of Daniel. He could pass it off as an effect of the resonance, of course, some vague species of paternal longing twisted into something obscene.

But where did that leave the echoes of that averted future?

Laying in the palm of his hand, of course.

The stones shifted again. Clicked. Vlad could feel the vibration through his palm. A diamond this time, red jade trapped within a jagged frame of moonstone. He fell into that quiet abyss without protest.


( we all fall down )

A quick lab analysis revealed the pendent to contain shards of moonstone and red jade. The scrapes of metal and the circuits intertwined in the stones were of various alloys and quality. The chain itself was a highly polished steel. Various runes and sigils were etched into the surface of the stones, but only half were translated.

All of this from only twenty-four hours study.

And Vlad still knew nothing of the pendent's purpose.

He could marvel at the subtle craftmanship, the delicate entertwining of circuit and stone, and the elegent twist of wires holding it all in place. Gently prod at the slices of stone, colors shifting as the peices slid about on their network of wires, runes realigning to form new sigls and the circuits breaking and reforming. It was the work of a master.

Vlad recognized him, of course, that creator unnamed by his alternate counterpart. None other than his own Kwan Long. The work was a far cry from confiscated weapon created during his brief posession. But there was no doubt. The same handiwork marked both. Vlad had studied the workings of pendent and weapon enough times to be certain of it.

So there he was, sitting along in his office, playing with the damned pendent once again. The furniture and carpet had been replaced and the room scrubbed of every trace of salt and scorch mark. It was pristine. But it still wasn't enough to drive those memories from his mind. Maddie. Daniel. Even that godforsaken imbecile, Jack. All gone. And himself reduced to a bitter shell. Vlad was half-tempted to fling the pendent out the window, watch it tumble and twinkle out of sight, and shatter upon the concrete so far below. Instead, he idly twisted the pendent's stone, aligning and realigning the markings. He was dimly reminded of a rubik's cube made of crystal. Vlad heard a muffled click. The stones were segregated according to color, red jade neatly framing an angular teardrop-shaped moonstone.

The stones aligned and everything else fell apart.

( Dream a little dream of me... )

((OOC: the actual memory sequence itself was written by kimu and myself over instant messenger. so half of this mess is her's. XD ))

No one asked any questions when Vlad ordered the entire floor to be vacated by 2:30. The entirety of her office was cleared, furniture and desk shoved rudely against the walls. She wanted to make certain everyone had enough space, after all. Machines hummed gently, perched on displaced shelves and filing cabinets. Vlad was ready.

All that remained were the others.

Vlad barely resisted the urge to drum his head against the desk. Honestly. It was a simple matter of real estate and they were reacting as though he were trying to buy the city from underneath them. Granted, the Renaissance was located in the historical district of Amity Park. But that was no call for the man to burst into tears, he had been offered more than a fair price. Vlad sighed and rubbed his temples. There were days when he entertained the thought of going into seclusion and leaving the realms, both human and ghost, to themselves and wiping his hands clean of both.

It happened between one breath and the next.

He sat up and jerked back, a heavy weight suddenly pressing down on his lungs. Vlad clutched at his chest and felt a gentle swelling of flesh beneath his palm. His eyes grew wide and he yanked his shirt open, the top buttons popping off. Breasts. It appeared that he had grown--

Wait.

Vlad had to reconsider that pronoun.

And his pants.

Damn it.

It was Kenosha all over again.

Vlad cast a resigned glance skyward. Her business suit hung at awkward angles, far too loose in the shoulders and rather tight around the waist. She twisted around to look. That might have had something to do with the sudden... ahem. Derriere. And boxers. So she still wore her old clothes, if a new form. Time to see how extensive the change was; it at least appeared to be an outside influence this time. She jabbed a finger at the call button and Sheila answered immediately.

"Yes, Ms Masters?"

Vlad stared at the phone for a moment. Ms?

"Ms Masters?"

"I'll need the reports for the Renaissance purchase by this evening," she said finally and Sheila complied with her usual professional charm. Well, well. Ms. Vlad scowled. Definitely an outside influence, interfered with, perhaps, by the ghost shield surrounding this particular floor of Axion. Although that didn't quite explain Sheila. Never mind.

Vlad walked to the back of the office and opened a door leading to a small closet. Various weapons and ghost related equipment were hung in the walls and stacked neatly on shelves. Including contingency supplies. Vlad scowled. She hated using any of the contingency supplies. No. Not the amulet. Or the thermograph. There. Folded neatly in the corner. A pants suit, soot gray. Elegantly cut, though perhaps a bit drab. But just the sort of a thing a busy business woman would wear. It only took one Kenosha to learn to pack for any sort of emergency.

There. Somewhat better. But now to find out who did this.

And reverse it.

She pushed the call button again. "Sheila?"

"Yes, Ms Masters?"

"Hold my calls for the rest of the afternoon."

He had grown accustomed, in his own resigned fashion, to the creature purring on his lap. Vlad still didn't understand the girl's motives in giving him the cat, other than pure spite. He had tried abandoning the creature in any of a thousand corners of the Ghost Zone. But every time, every trip back through that damned temporary portal, and he'd find the thing sitting on top of his desk, daintily licking a paw. He'd even gone so far as to give the cat to Skulker, with express orders to dispose of it by any means necessary.

Not even the mighty Ghost Hunter could explain how it escaped. Vlad suspected it had something to do with the uncharacteristic sheepish look on the hunter's face and the cat's smug purring.

But the cat came back the very next day. Always. Every bit as predictable as a child's singsong chant.

Even after the incident with the ghost portal.

So many things lost in Faux's attack, his temporary portal among them. But before that, on one errand or another in the Ghost Zone, the detestable little creature had thought it necessary to accompany him. But it kept to itself and kept out of his way, so Plasmius had little motivation to bother with it. Until it followed him back. And the portal shorted out.

It had been dangerously close to shorting or outright explosion for several days. But Plasmius had made it through and was honestly expecting the creature to be perched on a lab table. Imagine his surprise to hear an indignent yowl behind him as the portal collapsed and the cat caught right in the middle. Plasmius had breifly considered leaving the thing trapped and seeing how it would fare getting ripped apart between one zone and the next. But then he remembered the look on girl's face as she presented him with the ghostly animal. Plasmis settled for placing a firm hand on the cat's head and shoving it back into the Ghost Zone, even as the portal sparked and snapped around his wrist.

The burn had taken days to heal.

And the cat only took a few hours to return. But not exactly in one piece.

A lick of brilliant, ecto-plasmic green streaked across the cat's face and down its back, terminating at it's tail. A series of tight, cross-stiched threads wove in and out the skin around its neck like a cruel collar. Even though its head was still firmly attached. Vlad had checked. Twice. Either way, he didn't relish explaining it away to the girl.

But now... with the temporary portal destroyed, both Vlad and the cat were stranded in the human world for a time, unless it was by Fenton Portal or a happy little jaunt off to Wisconsin. Vlad had little time for either. Vlad sighed and gently stroked the cat in his lap.

At least it was properly house-broken.

The audio filters were almost complete after days of work. But there were still features missing, most of which could only be manufactored in the old lab. Vlad scowled. Most of the equipment had to be scavenged from the old lab by hand; there was no way he'd trust random technicians with the delicate and esoteric mechanisms. Which limited him to ghost labor at night. And during the day, only Anderson and the boy could be trusted, and even then only to a limited extent.

Really, at times, both humans and ghosts could be such a nuisance.

Which brought him to this, the sleeves of his work shirt rolled up to his elbows and sweat beading his brow. The air conditioning was the least of many systems that had malfunctioned after the ghost attack. Debri was piled in awkward heaps along the walls, sorted into rough piles of "functional," "damaged," and "I'm not quite sure what this does any more." They still had yet to find the ghost shield.

Vlad glanced over at the boy. Working hard. Quietly. But at least it wasn't quite the same dead silence that had clung to him over the past few days.