Theme: Time
Tick Tock
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"Fact is, people are quick to compromise their morals to achieve their desires." -Erasii
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It was a scene he knew well. He'd watched it many times. Two people, two ghosts. One before the other, one the starkest black the other purist of whites. This was the beginning, the time when the metaphorical pan was set on the burner that was just turned on. This was where it started.
And with it's beginning, the clock began to tick.
"Daniel, stop! Think of the things I could show you! The things you could learn!"
Toxic green eyes narrowed, the snarl punctuating the clear answer.
He waited. He didn't bother to hold his breath. He already knew what was likely to happen. But he did hope. This was a choice for the elder. To continue, or bow down. There was a less than one percent chance the elder would stop. But it was that miniscule chance than had him hoping.
It was in vain.
The fight wasn't very elegant, it was rather quite sloppy. One kidnapping, the other playing hero. A few shots from an assault vehicle, a blackmail, and a truce that was doomed to be forgotten. It was all drama for the elder. A joke. He hadn't truly lost, he'd just made a slightly miscalculation. The younger made it clear he didn't want to see him ever again. It wouldn't last. The elder was greedy and stubborn. He didn't take it seriously. The younger tried to forget about it all.
With choices came consequences. The clock ticked as he pointed his staff at the screen.
The elder, under the visage of his human half, did little to hide his loathing of the one he once called his friend. If the Ghost of Time had cared, he would have found the act deplorable. As it stood, that's not what he cared for. Instead, he watched as the man admitted his heart for the woman of his dreams, twenty years late. The reaction was expected: she was married, happily so, and hadn't felt anything for her previous friend to begin with. She denied him, quite vehemently, given she stormed back out into the cold wilderness.
The elder stood in the doorway for a few moments.
Again, the hope. Would he accept this, or would he feel damned?
Again, it was in vain.
"Mark my words, Maddie, nobody says no to Vlad Masters! You will rue the day you spurned my affections!"
The Time Master sighed, as sound that was overridden by the moving gears of the clock.
Tick...
Another scene, another choice. The glowing dome protected the whole of the city from the invasion at the hands of the Ghost King. Neon green skeletons remained frozen on the streets, awaiting the signal. Several hours prior, the elder halfa had made a mistake, a very large one. He dared to steal the ring, and awoke the King. He was recovering from the rebuttal of the monarch and his rough landing into the Fenton's lab, but he was by no means lacking in strength at this point.
The younger confronted him, about the plot. Vlad just snickered with sarcasm, and the fight was on.
There was no hesitance. No second thoughts. It was beneath him to think such things, that he had messed up. Not until the teenager gripped the sword.
But even then, he refused to even think that this was his fault. This was a game of chess to him. Use the pawns, get the knight, topple a king, get the prizes. The Master of Time didn't even know if the man saw those around him as flesh and blood anymore. That they could be killed. It was counteractive, the ghost thought, how much the elder seemed to proclaim he wanted to be the younger's father figure yet he always used the child like a puppet. Manipulated him, twisted him, made him dance and bend and break.
The hate in the younger grew spiteful.
The ignorance of the elder grew blind.
He could have accepted this wasn't what he'd intended. That this situation was dangerous. But it was clear he didn't care.
He never did.
The ebony hand clicked to another notch.
Tock
The elder was ill. Perhaps it was karma, the Time Master thought. Karma for all the injures, the destruction, the hurt.
Vlad Masters saw it as yet another unjust way the world was kicking him while he was down.
In his eyes, he was owed. He was the victim. He wanted his dues and he wanted them exactly as he demanded. He was stolen from, he was ridiculed. Not money nor power nor ghost half could change that mindset. Yes, defiantly karma, the Master of Time decided. He had this coming. The price for the wrong choices before.
But I was innocent, the man would have proclaimed at such a suggestion, I've had things taken from me. I was hurt, I was wronged.
Funny, how quick he is to rattle off his excuse yet quicker to shove his fingers in his ears when they're challenged.
The halfa stood outside the teenage hotspot. He watched his old friends enter and exit in their ridiculous retro garb. He looked like he might've puked if he had any weaker a stomach. And then he saw Daniel the other direction. The others hadn't yet left the premises. They knew of his unique condition, knew how it worked and perhaps how to cure it. Despite the spite between the woman and the halfa, neither of the ghost hunters would have denied him help if he'd ask for it.
But that was beneath Vlad Masters pride.
Thus he went towards Daniel, and forced the boy's hand in his aid. It was terrible, it was heinous. But it worked, in the end.
The Master of Time didn't understand the halfa's logic, and found himself wondering.
Did the ends justify the means? Was the price worth it?
The gears turned. And he decided that the answers were no.
Tick...
Tock...
Creating life out of ectoplasm for Vlad was easy. Cloning wasn't difficult when you used the substance as a base and added the humanity onto it. But just because the process of bringing things alive was easy doesn't mean that his efforts bore fruit or lasted. Several thousand Daniels devolved into puddles by the time he'd worked out all the bugs to get to his prime. Several thousand living things died at his hands as he trial and error-ed his way through genetics and ectobiology.
Mass murders has less numbers on their records.
Six clones remained at this point. The prime, a failure not yet released, a female, and three mutants. The mutants were used like minions, sent to get the final piece the prime needed. It was like giving a bleeding man a shovel and asking him to dig his own grave. They all failed, melting into death. The female was clever, and became conflicted on who to trust. Her father, or the one her entire self came from.
Desperation pushed Vlad to this point. Desperation, delusion, and loneliness. The former was crippling. The latter was fatal. He was a bird spiraling towards the concrete with a broken wing, his limbs desperately flailing for some kind of salvation. He found none.
"I'm doing this for you, my child," Her father promised, "I need Daniel's DNA to stabilize you."
It wasn't necessarily a lie, all things considered. But it was.
"He's using you!" Daniel cried, "He's not planning on fixing you! He doesn't care for you!"
She was so very conflicted.
Perhaps if Vlad had payed attention to the little things rather than his grand schemes, he would have realized that he already made a successful clone. Complete with Daniel's sarcasm, tenacity, and stubbornness. Perhaps if Vlad had tried to care, he would have grown to accept her as a daughter. Perhaps if he'd tried to reason with Daniel, this entire mes might've been avoided.
So many choices. So many options. Just pick one, the Master of Time thought.
So Vlad did. He chose to loose his patience. He chose to not care.
Another Daniel died, and Vlad finally lost the final strands of his humanity.
He broke.
And no one cared to fix him.
The clock ticked closer to midnight. The gears didn't even bother to try to pause between scenes anymore. There wasn't any point.
Tick...
Tock...
Tick...
Viscous clouds swirled above the city. Vlad phased into the basement of the Fenton household. Daniel argues with his father about the storm raging outside, about how it was the elder halfa's fault. Vlad ignored him, and reached through the floorboards to pull the teen down. Once again, the situation at hand was all Vlad's fault. Once again, he refused to accept responsibility.
"Plasmius! Nice weather we're having!"
"Ahh, the obligatory weather pun. How original," The halfa paused, then looked back down at the teen, "But I have no time to take exceptions, I must resort to humiliatingly desperate measures."
The Master of Time leaned forward.
"Daniel, I need your help."
This was good. This was very good. Finally, Vladimir was bending his pride. Finally, a choice he chose well on. The two half ghosts left the home, bolting towards the newly constructed lair in the sky. They argued on the way, but that didn't matter. They arrived before the skull, the tongue lolling out with the weather ghost upon it. It boasted, but the teen didn't seem to care. The other, however, faltered.
"Do not be stupid, Masters..." the Time ghost whispered. Of all the ways he saw this going, he knew only two had any chance of doing anything.
"Uhhh...No, I just wanted to introduce you to a friend. Daniel, Vortex, Vortex, Danny. Well, gotta fly, ta!"
And that was not one of them.
The elder fled, leading Daniel to have to deal with the weather ghost by himself. The Master of Time sighed, and pressed the button on his staff.
The hand clicked to the last notch before midnight. The second hands jumped to life, and continued to click as they began their way around the face, like the drums of a war song.
Tick...
Tock..
Tick.
Tock.
Tick...
Vlad's fist cracked the stone next to Daniel head, the teen just barely dogging the hit. Before him, he man snarled, his sharp fangs bare and his eyes glowing red with an intensity he'd rarely seen. Danny kicked, catching Vlad in the ribs and cartwheeling out of the trapped space he'd found himself in. Vlad hit the bricks between the windows, but rolled, lunching off the building. Daniel rolled to the side, but Vlad was quick to adjust, and caught the teenager between his shoulder blades. He fell, and bounced to the sidewalk. Vlad charged after, swinging a kick towards the boy's sternum. Danny dodged, left, right, up, left, down, roll. Caught off guard from the avoidance of his attacks, Plasmius made to spin back around with a punch. Daniel grabbed his cape and yanked, sending the other bounding across the road.
The teen paused, panting for breath. His shoulder blades hurt, and he could feel sticky ectoplasm leaking from several wounds all over his body. Part of his hair was stained green from a skull fracture that he just didn't pay attention to. Vlad pushed himself to his feet, looking worse for the wear as well. Fuchsia dotted his suit, tears and ectoblast burns here and there. He snarled, and stalked towards Daniel. The teen stumbled backwards, unsteady on his sore leg. He was sure the bone was cracked
"Vlad, you need to stop," He growled, "This is all getting out of hand."
"I'm not stopping till I get what I want! What the world owes me!"
"The world owes you nothing! You've done nothing but play the 'woe is me' card for twenty years! I'm sick of it! It's ridiculous!" Danny snapped, standing his ground, "When are you gonna learn that nothing you do ever works and your just wasting your time absolutely ruining everything for no reason?!"
"You're a child, Daniel, stupidly naive and simple minded! I don't expect you to understand, because you can't! You don't know my pain!"
"Your pain is twenty years dead! If I'm a child, then you are too, because at least I know when to let go of stupid grudges!"
"You'll change your mind when someone betrays you in the worst possible ways!"
"I'll change my mind when you learn to let shit go! Which will be fucking never!" The air around Daniel crackled with frost and ectoplasmic energy. Cold haze formed around him, contrasting the rising steam around Vlad. The two halfa's glared at each other.
"Listen to me, Vlad, for once! Stop all of this!"
The ghost waited, and all of time seemed to hold it's breath.
Tick
Tock
Tick
"I don't need to listen to some asinine teenager failing all of his classes because of a foolish hero's complex!"
Tock
The hand struck midnight.
Vlad charged, and Danny dodged. Vlad skidded to a stop on the road, a pink ectoblast forming in his clawed hands.
The truck laid on its horn several seconds too late, the brake peddle even later. Vlad only had time to turn, shocked, before several tons of vehicle slammed into his chest. Metal brakes screamed as they tried and failed to stop before the road turned. It crash into the building, the stone cracking by not giving.
Danny could only stare.
An alarm beep droned out from the truck, much too loud yet eerily silent in the still moment. The vehicle lurched, then pushed backwards, the smoke billowing from the ruined engine. Vlad stumbled out from around the machine, hands outstretched in an attempt find something to balance himself. He found nothing but the side of the truck and slumped against it.
His chest was completely crushed, ribs jutting our from his suit and skin. Ectoplasm flowed freely from the wounds, thick in some places in an attempt to clot yet way too liquidy in others. Vlad gasped for breath, his hand pressing against his chest as he heaved for air. His lungs fought the attempts. The imprint of the grill of the truck could be seen clearly indented into Vlad's body, patches of chrome transfers onto his suit. Vlad coughed, violently, and nearly fell to his knees. His fingers dug into his skin. He hissed in pain, eyes oddly cloudy.
A bright glowing patch of red began to spread under Vlad's fingers, thick red tendrils of smoke rising from his chest.
Vlad tried to force himself forward. He failed with a sharp cry of pain and collapsed fully against the truck. He kept clutching at the glowing spot, his breath quickening to raspy gasps spaced between coughs. Various parts of his body began to flick from invisibility and intangibility, ectoenergy forming then dissipating around a few fingers occasionally.
Danny could see the panic seep into Vlad's eyes as they widened.
"N-no...n-o n-no -o-h god-d n-no..." he whimpered, horror filling every inch of his being. He looked down at his chest, and clenches the spot tighter despite the pain. Bits of jagged glass-like ectoplasm poked from the brightened spot, ectoplasmic sparks jolting off them.
And suddenly Danny realized too. That was Vlad's core.
Smashed to pieces.
"N-no-n-onono, p-please—ohgod—please—n-nono-nono—t-this c-can't—no please god—no—" Vlad cried, begging as he curled in on himself. He slid to the ground, smoke escaping his lips. His leg turned intangible and he fell, landing with a pained screech on the heated asphalt.
Never before had Danny seen Vlad in such utter fear. Never before has he seen Vlad cry.
"S-somone p-please hel-lp I don't w-want t-to die," he whimpered, trying to drag himself across the ground in sheer desperation. A trail of dark pink fallowed his slow inched forward, spreading outward as the ectoplasm seemed to just give up on trying to stop it's escape, "I don't w-want t-to die Idon'tw-wantt-todieIdon'twanttodieplease—it h-hurts—pleaseIdon'twanttodie—!"
Danny heard another moan amidst Vlad's, and looked back towards the truck. The drivers side door was open, the driver attempting to remove himself from the vehicle. Danny looked back at Vlad, then swallowed the painful lump in his throat.
He jogged towards the driver.
Vlad looked up as he noticed the teenager flying away, his vision blurry.
"D-Daniel? D-Daniel pl-please, d-don't leave m-me here, ple-ease I ne-eed h-help—it hurts," Danny seemed to ignore him until he was out of hearing range. Vlad clenched his eyes shut, resisting the urge to wail, "P-please, Dan-niel, I d-don't want t-to d-die...I d-don't want t-to feel th-that a-again—please pleasepleaseplease Daniel c-come bac-ck..."
Danny never went back. A fractured core couldn't be repaired, let alone a completely shattered one. There wasn't anything he could do for Vlad.
His time was up.
-o-oOo-o-
AN: Whoops my hand slipped.
I guess I need to cross "I never killed Vlad" off my list of things I've never done. Tbh it was gonna happen eventually. Also, totes ignored the fact that Phantom Planet is a thing because fuck that episode.
This was inspired by something Pokeshadow said while we chatted, about how many opportunities Vlad had to just stop. But he never did. Vlad's very being prevented him from doing so. Actions befit consequences. You push something too far and it will snap backwards.
I fully believe that Vlad is Thanatophobic, which means that he fears death. Vlad, in my headcanon, experienced a very long, drawn out death due to Ecto-Acne in his time in the hospital, leading to him becoming a halfa (you can read about this in Nullify, Vilify Chapter 4). I full believe that during this time Vlad thought it was literally dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The sensation of death is a horrible one, made worse when you can't fight it. Thus, Thanatophobia. Vlad seems to harbor a very strong desire to stay alive, placing a lot of value of the half of him that still lives (might be why he hates Jack so much, that he's frustrated he's stuck permanently defending what half-life he still has.). Vlad will bite his pride and accept help from Danny if his survival is threatened, and even run away if he feels he is outmatched. In a sense, Vlad is almost permanently stuck flicking between fight and flight, typical of anxiety disorders, which he absolutely has due to isolation and his overcompensation methods. I also think that Vlad is Isolophobic, which is fear of solitude or being alone, often presented in a very extreme desire to cling to other people, to "keep" them.
-pats Vlad bby- You've got lots of issues, and every single one of them came from the accident or the hospitalization. But your issues don't give you an excuse to be a dick.