Okay, Secret Weapons completely screwed up my idea for Vlad. I'll use some of the events from there, which you'll see, but don't get on to me if something doesn't seem right. SW did not exist. stabs episode I can't deal with altering the timeline and everything. Sorry for the wait, major writer's block. Check updates on my profile for info. And ooh, CAI allusions in store.
Shameless Plug: The Ghost Sector. Visit now. TGS > DPO
Major thanks to all of you lovely and awesome reviewers. Rosadina, Fey Phantom, bluejolteon, xheartkruezx, Frimmy, and sleepwarrior.
Information
"That was a work of pure genius."
"Yeah, it was. Maybe in your opinion."
Tucker rolled his eyes knowingly. "You have to do that, don't you?
"Yes. If I don't, then my programming will cause me to self-destruct."
"C'mon, Sam," Danny said, pushing the door leading out of the theater from the side. The group had just finished watching the new summer comedy Tucker had been itching to see ever since he saw the previews a month ago. That was Tucker for you. "You know you thought it was funny."
This felt great. It had been four days since Danny had last seen Cyrus, and six since the big event involving his parents, Sam, and Valerie. There had been a short fight between him and Cyrus before then, where the ghost had simply appeared outside of his house, nearly beat Danny, but then disappeared as if summoned away by a superior officer. That was what the ghost's behavior reminded him of; a soldier, or something like that. Or a condescending teacher, constantly getting onto him about his skills like a rabid monkey on his back. Danny didn't like monkeys.
Although the sense that eventually something would happen to suck him back into that entire situation that made Danny's head hurt and blood boil a little bit, he couldn't ignore that it was summer, and he still had a life. After all, he wasn't a whole ghost. Then again this was his first summer being Danny Phantom.
Oh, just screw that whole train of thought.
"Yes, it was pretty funny," she stated blandly. "Was it a work of genius? No. It was Tucker's type of funny, not my type of funny."
"Well you've got to admit Sam," he said. "Your brand of funny isn't necessarily blockbuster type funny." Sam looked at him expectantly. "Because it's just so unique and original and non-mainstream like that," he added quickly to satisfy the lioness's tastes. She smirked, knowing that she had forced that out of him but enjoying the compliment anyway.
"It was still a good movie," Tucker grumbled, slightly put down by his friends words.
The group turned the corner and crossed the imaginary line into the busiest are of downtown. Other than ghost attacks, amity Park was actually relatively crime free. Hence the town motto that held true on the sign marking city limits. Thus, teenagers were allowed by their parents to roam around town during the late evening and early night.
They passed by various shops and stores, clubs that they had to veer around to avoid looks from the bouncers, and restaurants that they gazed into hungrily. Tucker had hogged all the popcorn, and the rest had littered the ground when Danny tried to blast a handful thrown into the air and forgot popcorn didn't stick together to form solid balls.
"So anyway, I was thinking," Sam said out of the blue. "Maybe when we get back to my place..." Sam's house seemed to have become the boy's favorite hang out place, much to Sam's aversion. "We could maybe try to find some information about… Danny?"
The three had walked by a small, darkly colored shop. Several steps back, Danny paused, looking into the window with interest. Tucker was the first to notice that he hadn't just randomly become invisible, and then Sam spotted him as well. They backtracked to where he was still staring into the shop and peered inside. Tucker shook his head and said urgently, "She is reeling you into the world of darkness and pointy metal objects, Danny. Snap out of it. Don't let your eyes –"
"Oh, stuff it already," Sam interrupted with an amused mile playing her face. "What's up, Danny? See something you like?"
Beyond the Plexiglas was a manikin adorned with what looked like an outfit right out of an Anne Rice reading, Morbid Antisocial Youth fanatic's closet. Or, in other words, something from a male version of Sam's closet. Dark, slightly baggy pants, black button up shirt with a green, smoky design on one side, and to complete the ensemble, a trench coat were hanging from the metal arms and body in the window. Of all people, the very common, very white T-shirt, blue jean wearing Danny Fenton was staring with greedy eyes.
Even Sam thought it was a little bit off.
"Tucker's right," he said in a mix of awe and fear. "You are influencing me. First it was music, and now this. I like that. I really like that."
"Excellent taste," Sam said distantly, staring into the window with an odd, almost dreamy expression.
Tucker cocked his head to the side in confusion, glancing between the two, before immediately banging it against the window. "Start wearing eyeliner and you're dead. Take my word for it; it's not as fun as it sounds."
Danny shook his head and pulled Tucker away before he permanently damaged his brain. "I can't imagine wearing something. But I do kind of want it." He rounded on Sam and glared in mock accusation.
She simply raised her eyebrows. "Seriously?"
"Seriously?" repeated Tucker, only much more desperately.
"Seriously."
"All right, now this is serious. All kidding aside," Tucker said, "this is very serious."
Sam laughed and wrapped an arm around Danny, willing the more appealing images of Danny dressed in the outfit out of her mind. "Once you go black," she chanted, "you never go back."
Taking both of Sam's cheeks in hi palms, Tucker directed her gaze to his face. "Sam, look at me. Look at me very carefully. Are you looking?" Lost to whatever he was talking about, she simply nodded. "I am black. You just wear it. Don't even tell me that ever again." Thinking about the phrase once over, Tucker broke into a smile. "Aw, you want to be like me. Isn't that sweet, Danny?"
Apparently it was, since Danny immediately broke into laughter. Sam shook her head sadly. "Hah, hah, hah. No. You know what I mean."
"Before anyone starts talking about me again," Danny said, calming his breathing, "I'm not going Goth. I like the clothes, the music, but I'm not planning on it. Can we drop this for now?" With that he started walking again in the direction as earlier, Sam and Tucker following in his slipstream.
"Good answer," replied his friends simultaneously. The two exchanged glances, in which a mutual what-the-heck was shared. They seemed to agree not to delve any further by asking what the other meant.
"Well, like I was saying earlier," Sam said, "do you want to stop by my house and –"
Danny gasped, feeling as though he had been dumped into cold water. Too cold for a summer evening, and his ghost sense activating confirmed that there wasn't a sudden climate change from the warm summer night. Tucker and Sam both stiffened, looking at Danny as he began scanning the busy area for a decent hiding place. He knew it was going to happen soon, knew he was going to have to do this sooner or later. Friday night, middle of downtown, man this would be bad. It had been four days, Danny wasn't ready, stupid, stupid, and he'd been watching movies when he should've been –
"Surrender your vacant, cubical partitions to me, of face my terrible wrath!"
About one hundred coiled springs in Danny's body unraveled slowly. "Ah, jeez," he said, relaxing his shoulders. After a look of mutual exasperation with the others, Danny took the Fenton Thermos from Sam's hand and calmly walked behind a dumpster, went ghost, and chased the Box Ghost away in roughly three minutes.
Now if only he would stay that way.
Stupid thermos.
Danny stared slack jawed at the open hardcover book in his lap, utterly appalled. Over his should was Tucker, with a very similar reaction on his own face. Slowly Danny looked up from his spot of the floor, next to Sam's bed, and stared at his devious friend in disbelief. "I cannot believe that you actually told them to put this in here."
Sam began searching for a quick escape route from her bedroom. As of now, the second floor window was very appealing.
"We said we weren't going to tell anybody!" Tucker cried, his own eyes still glued to the page they had turned to.
The Casper High Yearbook, 2004, was propped open against Danny's knees. Does anyone remember a certain purple backed gorilla incident?
Laughing nervously, Sam began to back away from the victims of her wrath. "I, um, well," she stuttered. Why the heck wouldn't a decent excuse come into her mind at all times? Possibly because Danny was still looking at her like she'd just kicked a puppy into a river. She grinned sheepishly. "Surprise!"
Tucker raised his eyes and locked on target.
"Oh, come on you guys! I was young and naïve."
"This was eight months ago!" Danny accused, turning the book around to display the embarrassing thumbnail at the bottom of the page. It was the freshmen with last names E through G. Fenton and Foley were both supposed to be on this bad once, but instead, they were on it wise. "Do you know how scarring this is for a guy? Do you know what this means we can do now?"
Tucker thought about what Danny said for a minute and broke into a triumphant smile. "We get to tell everyone about you and the gorilla now!"
That was news.
"What? No! I'm sorry, I was mad at you guys," she cried desperately. "It was some stupid thing again. I had gotten in a fight with Danny, and so I went and brought the picture to the yearbook committee. I had forgotten about it until –"
"Wait a minute," Tucker interrupted. "You get mad at Danny, and so I have to suffer? That's not fair!"
"What the heck were you mad about that could've possessed you to do this?" Danny asked incredulously.
Sam coughed into her fist and sat down in the chair at her desk, incense burning next to her computer. Ignoring the question completely, she said, "Come on, I want to show you guys something I found earlier today."
"You are so not getting off the—"
"Tucker, shut your face and listen to me before I burn this stick of incense into your beanie."
Tucker grabbed one of the extra chairs she had asked to be sent into her room and took a seat at the desk. With half of his arsenal gone Danny grudgingly did the same and sat on the other side of her.
"Thank you," she said. She accessed Firefox and looked at her bookmarks, clicking on one of the links. A Flash introduction to a website began playing. A black background with green smoke and the words Ghost Portal Online formed out of them created the entrance page.
"Ghost Portal Online?" Danny asked. "What's this?"
"The most accurate website devoted to identifying and describing different kinds of ghosts that I could find after three days of searching," she explained. "There aren't many members, it's not exactly well-known, but decent all the same. I almost gave up all hope with Google. It's not entirely right, but it's better than most of what I've seen." The introduction faded away and a large directory of links to articles and a message board took its place. "I registered on the forums as MetalMistress. You guys should do it; too, it's pretty cool."
Danny leaned forward in interest. "Is there anything about Cyrus on here?"
Sam bit her lip and shook her head. "I didn't find anything. What I thought was hilarious was that they have an article about Ember in here. Someone besides me was actually sane during that event."
"Hey, so was I," Danny corrected.
Sam and Tucker turned slowly to him and stared.
"You know, most of the time."
"Right," Tucker laughed, turning back to the screen. "I'll put a note with the URL in my PDA and sign up for it later. This might be helpful."
"I'll register now," Danny said suddenly, grabbing the mouse and clicking the link to register. In the area where it asked him for his username, he pursed his lips in thought, and typed in PhantomHunter.
Oh, so original.
Danny wondered just how helpful this would be, though. They didn't have anything about Cyrus… and he still didn't know much about him, either. God, it was getting annoying to tell himself that all the time. But if some other people were able to label Ember as a ghost, it would be good to settle in with some people who might know their stuff.
After searching through the forums for a bit, though, Danny almost trashed that idea. "These people sound like Roswell conspiracy freaks," Danny complained. "Does anyone here know what they're talking about?"
"We do," Tucker said helpfully.
"Actually Danny, some people do," Sam said. "Looking in the 'Sighting' forum isn't going to get you anywhere. Go there," she said, pointing to another board beneath it. Danny smiled sheepishly and moved on to it.
In some of the other forums, such as discussion and hunter forums, there was more workable information. Some of it was more of the same babble that hurt Danny's eyes, but the rest… he could probably learn from this stuff. That was one thing that he would definitely need to do if he wanted to figure anything out. If he ever wanted to be anything more than a 'ghost kid'.
The three of them agreed not to give too much information on the nature of their own work. If any of these experts found out a ghost was looking up things on this forum.
"What do you guys think about ProudTechLover?" Tucker asked a while later.
"It sounds like it fits you," Sam said, reading a small theory someone had written and shaking her head sadly. It was almost humorous how much she knew about ghosts nowadays when she used to believe they were dull fantasies popularized by the Hollywood big shots. "Your username? As long as you don't spell lover with a 'u', we'll be peachy."
"Spell it however you want, Tucker," Danny said, smiling. "She owes us. Don't think I already forgot about what you did, either."
Sam cringed under that accusatory glances, but inwardly she smiled. Danny seemed happy enough, and she was feeling better by the day after Cyrus's attempts. If only she could really see what was going on in Danny's troubled thoughts…
It was dark, but then, that was to be expected. It was long into the night, and the city lights that would normally illuminate the area from its distance were hidden by clouds coming to bring summer's first storms to Amity Park.
Ten minutes past midnight, and Vlad's patience was beginning to wear thin again.
He stood with his hands behind his back for now, waiting, an expression of utmost annoyance plastered on his defined features. Not as though this was able to be seen; Vlad Masters was currently invisible, waiting for his employee to arrive at the rendezvous area. He was a businessman who enjoyed the theatrics of appearing after his inferiors had arrived.
Waiting just wasn't Plasmius's style.
They had been scheduled to meet ten minutes ago now, and he hadn't shown up. He was waiting on the outskirts of Amity Park, possible a half mile beyond the city limits. Really, he didn't expect it to be that difficult to find, especially for one of the rare intellectual ghosts. There were many things he wanted to ask Cyrus, and many things he wanted to chastise him for. The ghost had disobeyed direct orders and Vlad was very much not enjoying that.
On the bright side – wow, those words were relatively fresh in the man's vocabulary – Cyrus had made the stir he'd requested of him to make. If he knew his emissary well enough, then things were going mostly according to plan. At least one major event had occurred that had made headlines all over the Northern states. A mysterious ghost attack involving several instances of strange human behavior, as well as the now famous Danny Phantom… it wasn't much talk in the rest of the world, but here he could almost smell the tension considered that it was probably for the best that more people remain in the city.
Fifteen minutes now.
A rustle and the sound of a couple of snapping twigs reached Plasmius's pointed ears from the right. More visible than a human would be thanks to his ethereal glow, Cyrus appeared in his usual attire of a black robe. "Plasmius?" he called in a youthful voice that defied his true age.
The half ghost didn't know exactly how old the man was, but it was not necessary to know. The ghost was bound into service with Plasmius, and that was all he needed out of him.
Still invisible, he walked through a tree that was in his path and faded back into view and solidity. "You're late," he growled. "Very late, actually."
"My apologies, sir," replied Cyrus without remorse. "I was detained by an unexpected visit from the ghost hunter you so very much detest. The other, as well, proved slightly difficult to detain. The one you hold attachment to."
Plasmius narrowed his eyes. "How on this plane could a bumbling lunatic like him keep you at bay? Your abilities –"
"Are most powerful, aren't they?" Cyrus interrupted. "But any power that becomes overused will begin to fail. Rest easy, Plasmius."
"Do not patronize me, Cyrus!" Vlad exclaimed. For a ghost with an extremely military mind, he easily forgot his place. "Must I remind you of the image?"
Cyrus's eyes bore into Plasmius's before he answered. "No. Believe me, sir, when I say that it is not an easy thing for one to forget."
"Thank you," he replied. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and said, "How is your job fairing?"
A satisfied grin slowly formed on Cyrus's features. "Oh, quite well I should say. Almost everything that you told me about the boy is true. Especially the technique you told me to use to stop him in his track," he added, remembering how simple it was to wrap his hand around his small neck and catch him in midair. "That was rather enjoyable."
"Really," Vlad muttered under his breath. "And how many times have you encountered him?"
"Thrice."
"And?"
"The results are as we desired them."
Vlad nodded. "Good, good. I'd like more, though," he said, taking a seat on a large boulder. "And I have one complaint."
Cyrus raised an eyebrow… or at least, the part of his face where an eyebrow was supposed to be. "Something does not satisfy you, sir?"
"No, something does not satisfy me. There was a young woman in red at the incident six days ago, was there not?"
At the bottom of Cyrus's neck was a silver clasp that held his robe closed around his body. Lazily, he fingered it and thought this over. "I believe there might have been. A foolish human, I easily took seize of her. She seems to think she's quite strong."
For a human, she was, Vlad had to give her that. Valerie Gray was constantly proving to be a better ghost huntress than he had expected. "I would prefer that you not do something like that to her again," Vlad said diplomatically. "She's a rather important and expensive piece if you understand what I am saying."
"But it disturbed the child so much to see her behave in that way. It would be a tactical advantage, would it not?"
"You are simply to fight the boy," Vlad reiterated, fingers glowing pink ominously. "And to do whatever else is needed to catch his attention to you. Do not physically or mentally harm either of the women and I will not have any problems with you whatsoever."
Cyrus inhaled deeply through his nose and lowered his hand from his breast. "Yes, sir," he replied evenly. "Is that all you wish to discuss?"
Vlad took the chance to think that over. "One last thing before I dismiss you."
God, that final scene was death to write. It really was. Originally I was going to write the meeting first, then a battle between Cyrus and Danny afterwards. I couldn't quite work with that so after a little tweaking and the addition of a random scene I'd written in the car a few days ago (the yearbook thing) It finally got up. I hope you're all satisfied with it.
See you in the afterlife,
Saramis Kismet