Surprise Tuesday chapter yeet.

*whispers* send reviews *runs off into the night*

But, no, really, I need the serotonin.

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Chapter 211: Ultimatum

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"Do I have to be here?" whined Dan, like only a partially reformed paradoxical entity born from the fusion of a broken teen and a millionaire narcissist could.

Nephthys gave Dan a look and prodded him closer to the large double doors. "Protests aside, you're more connected to Daniel than anyone else. You have standing in this trial."

"That doesn't mean I have to use it," complained Dan, his eyes on the carving of the execution, he leaned back against Nephthys' hand.

"Don't you want a chance to save your family?" asked Nephthys. "Your parents?"

Dan stilled.

"You didn't get that chance before," said Nephthys. "But you can be a witness now, before the initial committee, and, when the trial starts, before the court and the jurors. Convince them to remove execution as an option. Spare Daniel the pain you felt."

"The pain that turned me into a murdering monster you mean?" said Dan, half snarling. "No, you couldn't possibly let him go through that."

Nephthys was unphased. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"Ugh," said Dan. "Fine. But I don't want to have to deal with lawyers."

"There isn't a one in this entire building," said Nephthys.

"You know what I mean. I don't care what fiddly technical name you call them."

Nephthys just smiled.

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As it evolved, Dan was not quite unrecognizable as related to Danny. The small changes he had undergone since leaving his native timeline only muddled the matter. Many of the ghosts they passed in the halls look at him with an intense curiosity or did double takes. Some of those double takes were hilarious. Even ghosts could move in ways that could damage themselves when sufficiently surprised.

Dan was particularly fond of the semi-transparent ghost who managed to slide all his facial features through his head. Wow, he was going to have to try that one for himself. Maybe he could find Valerie or Jazz and see if he could make them gag. As long as he was here, right?

Nephthys flew confidently in front of him, leading the way. After another few minutes, when the reactions of the other ghosts in the halls ceased to be entertaining and started to be irritating, Dan increased his speed to fly next to her.

"Do I really look that much like him?" he asked, annoyed.

"Yes," said Nephthys. "Ten years, flaming hair, and a coloration change aren't huge differences. You look like brothers."

"A coloration change was enough to fool Amity Park. My- His parents," grumbled Dan.

"Not to mention a change in species," said Nephthys. "You really shouldn't forget that."

Dan wrinkled his nose and started muttering under his breath.

"Also, the resemblance is more clear now that you've stopped trying to look like a meat Dorito."

"Dorito?"

"Yeah. You know, the triangular chip things that the humans make. The spicy ones." She made a triangle with her fingers.

Dan vowed that the next time he had a chance to sit down and properly manipulate his self-image, he'd give himself back all his muscles. Meat Dorito. Disgusting. They sounded like something Tucker would like.

The next hall they turned into was busier. Much busier. Ghosts hurried to and fro, in and out of the matched set of doors that lined the right-hand side. From the glimpses Dan caught of the room beyond, he thought they all lead into the same area. Nephthys made for the closest one.

"Strictly speaking," she said, "just bursting in like this isn't allowed."

"Do you think I care about rules?" asked Dan.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," said Nephthys. She pushed him into the room.

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It was important, Danny was told, to manage his image in front of the committee and court. What he wore, how he wore it, and what form he appeared in, would send a message. Apparently, clothing was a hidden language all of its own, and the advocates knew how to read it.

At the moment, Danny and Hemlock had decided that it was best if Danny showed both that he was supported, and that he was coming at the issue at hand from a ghostly perspective. A perspective that understood ghost laws and customs.

Danny wore a chiton, dark grey, belted at the waist. Clockwork provided a pocket watch with a long brass chain to wrap around it. He had his starry cloak thrown over one shoulder as a sort of cape, and it had changed shape slightly to accommodate that. Thus, the support of the three Ancients present made itself clear.

(Even if Sojourn wasn't currently an Ancient, Danny wanted to give that title back to him as soon as possible. Maybe he could get someone to explain how during slow spots in the trial. He thought Frostbite might also be a good choice for Ancient.)

He wore tall sandals that laced just under his knee. He wasn't coming to before the committee barefoot, like a supplicant, but he also wasn't assuming too much power.

The crown on his head, which was stubbornly not coming off, had taken on a distinctly wreath-like appearance. The leaves resembled those of laurels.

Also, the ensemble, taken as a whole, might either make him look like a warrior or a young philosopher. There was a certain martial bent to the thin metal plates attached to the belt, but he wasn't explicitly wearing a weapon. Of course, being a ghost, Danny didn't really need a weapon.

If he understood correctly, this was to show the committee that he wasn't going to back down.

Danny adjusted the lay of his cape over his arm, checking again to make sure it covered most of his death scar, and then leaned forward to frown at his legs and see how the portion of it on his leg looked. It wasn't too prominent. It could almost be mistaken for a shadow cast by the sandal laces, and the gap between the top of the sandal and the bottom of the chiton was small. There wasn't much he could do about the portion of it on his neck in this outfit. Greek clothing did not include turtlenecks.

Danny rubbed his neck. He couldn't stay so self-conscious of his death scar forever, he supposed. A lot of other Dead didn't bother to cover up their death scars. Not most of them, but a lot. Some, anyway.

Heck. If any of his enemies were in attendance, they'd better not get any ideas about attacking him with electricity. He shuddered. They already hit him with that way too often.

(Technically speaking, they wouldn't be allowed to, if they knew. It would be Taboo. But there were so many exceptions and loopholes for the First Taboo.)

(Exceptions that he was hoping his parents could use to get out of this mess.)

"Are you sure this is necessary?" asked Danny. He rather liked the outfit, all things considered, but he would feel a lot more secure in his normal jumpsuit. He made an attempt at running his hand through his white hair and winced as he ran into the sharp ends of the metal-and-ice leaves his crown currently consisted of.

Combing his hair into something moderately respectable had been… interesting. Danny sincerely hoped that the crown would cooperate more on that front in the future.

"It isn't required," said Hemlock, stressing the word and how different it was from necessary.

(A junior associate of Hemlock's was keeping his place in the committee room while Hemlock discussed strategy with Danny. And generally helped keep Danny from freaking out.)

Danny understood.

"You look wonderful," said Pandora, standing tall and proud in her own chiton.

"You look fine," said Ellie, who was also wearing a chiton.

"You've worn stuff like that before," said Tucker, who was not wearing a chiton. "I don't get why you're so nervous." He twitched at the tied end of his nemes, which the Egyptians had convinced him to wear for the day in place of his customary (but beaten up and dirty) beret.

"Because it's a lot of people."

"You've been in front of a lot of people before, though," said Sam (wearing a chiton, but in black). It was true.

"People that I knew," said Danny. This was also true.

"All of the advocates present represent people that you know," said Hemlock. He tilted his head. "Except for the advocates for the court."

"Not helping," said Danny.

Jazz came over and put her hands on his shoulders. She was, he noticed, with gratitude, careful to keep her hands away from his scar. He let out a small sigh.

"Think of it this way," said Jazz, "these are people you're going to know."

"That makes it worse," said Danny, matter-of-factly.

"The ghosts you rallied to fight Pariah were not only your acquaintances," said Clockwork. He'd been quiet today, and Danny was worried.

(Almost as worried as he was about his parents and his still-melted clone siblings and his town and, ugh, he just wanted to shut them all in his lair where he knew they'd be safe.)

"Yeah, but the ones I knew were in front, and I had other things on my mind."

"We'll be in front," said Jazz, stoutly.

Hemlock winced. "Well," he said.

"We'll be where you can see us," Jazz corrected herself. She looked over her shoulder at her own advocates. "Right?"

Ivy gave her a thumbs up.

Danny gave her a smile, then looked back at Hemlock. "Is it just me, or is it taking way longer than they said to come get us?"

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Dan was in his element: being disturbing.

Ghosts were, he had discovered through trial and error, not particularly more difficult to disturb than humans. Oh, to be sure, ghosts weren't bothered by anything as pedestrian as twisting his head three hundred and sixty degrees. Any ghost could do that.

At least, they weren't bothered by just that. The key was presentation. Dan could present evil like nothing else. He'd been working on it for ten years.

It did feel strange to use 'being evil' for something that wasn't 'killing people (but to save them).'

Was this good?

Was it weird that Dan could correctly identify when something was evil, but not good? Probably. Could he even identify when something was evil if he couldn't figure out when something was good? Was it possible to be evil and good at the same time?

Dan didn't like these thoughts and doubled the amount of energy he was putting into harassing the advocates and convincing them that killing Mom and Dad- killing Danny's mom and dad would be a bad thing.

He might have skimmed over the fact that his entire support system, not just his parents, had been taken out in that timeline. It wasn't as if that particular detail was important. He might have also failed to mention that he was half Vlad, not just half Danny. Any misunderstandings rising from that could be cleared up lat-

Dan froze, thinking, hard. Actually, he probably should tell them about Vlad. Knowing the man like only someone partially made from him could, Vlad would be trying to get custody of Danny. Ghost custody and, as soon as Danny and the brats he called classmates got back to the human world sans parents, human custody as well.

The later, Vlad could definitely pull off. He had in Dan's timeline.

Hell.

He backtracked, clarifying his origins further. Butter biscuits. He didn't want to talk about this. He kept up a litany of swears in his head. He knew many.

The committee had questions. Dan waved off the ones with inconvenient answers and answered the rest as evilly as possible. Then he made a tactical and suitably dramatic retreat.

"Wow," said Nephthys, bringing her hands together as if clapping, but soundlessly, "that's going to be a tough act to follow."

"Whatever," said Dan.

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"The committee can see you now, Prince Phantom," said a Libran page. He seemed oddly shaken.

"You can just call me Phantom," said Danny, lifting off from the floor and making for the door. He wanted to get this over with.

He hoped the committee wouldn't be able to tell how on-edge he was.

The committee hall was huge and reminded him oddly of pictures he'd seen of the House of representatives. Except, this room was longer, more oval shaped, and there was a raised platform on the central, bottom floor. Sort of like a Greek theater in some ways, but also not. Opposite the main entrance doors, across that central floor, Themis presided from a stone box, a gavel held loosely in her top right hand.

There were a lot of ghosts in the room. Not so many that they didn't all have a proper, dignified seat, but a lot.

If Danny remembered correctly (and right now his self-confidence was doing a thing, so he couldn't be sure of that), then only the advocates of people who had standing in the trial could be part of the initial committee. Danny scanned the room, trying to estimate the number of people here, and compare it to the number of people he knew well enough to give them standing.

Surely, it couldn't be this many.

Hiding his discomfort (and he was good at that) he made his way to the center of the room, floating just over the central platform. He bowed to Themis before he turned to face the rest of the room.

"Hello, honored committee members," said Danny, in Libran Greek, pitching his voice high enough to reach the whole of the room. The acoustics in here were interesting. "Thank you for hearing me today." He stressed today just enough to let them know he hadn't missed the weirdly long time they had left him waiting. "It is my current understanding that you are discussing altering my perception or my ability to react for the duration of the trial." He paused. "I must inform you, that if you do decide to do that, I will not cooperate."

An annoyed and offended mutter rose from the crowd. It had a lot more variety to it than one from a human crowd would have, with hisses, rattles, and soft, high-pitched moans. If Danny had been in human form, the hair on the back of his neck might have stood up.

Maybe.

But he wasn't, so that was rather beside the point.

"Considering what has happened to me and mine lately, I cannot allow myself to be put in a state that would reduce my ability to respond to threats to them. I know that you believe such an alteration would be for my benefit, but the very thought of it fills me with deep anxiety." The word for anxiety in Libran Greek had connotations relating to Obsessions that did not translate well. "However, I appreciate your fear that I might disrupt the trial on behalf of my parents."

There were parts of him that still just wanted to grab his parents and run, but ultimately that would solve nothing, make things more difficult for everyone, and delay solving all the other problems he'd managed to pick up since that stupid 'safety' demonstration.

Although, technically, Issitoq had been a problem long before then.

"Therefore, I and my advocate, Hemlock, have worked to come up with a compromise we can all accept." He gave the assembled ghosts a bob that wasn't quite a bow. "I will be willing to take a Stygian oath to not disrupt the trial, except in the case of an attack, or to attempt to intervene in the sentence the court chooses to give to my parents, in exchange for certain punishments being removed from consideration."

Danny caught Hemlock's eyes and they exchanged nods. Hemlock began to remove papers from an apparently bottomless attaché case.

"Hemlock has a detailed list of punishments I would like to be excluded," said Danny, "and you can and must, of course, debate them. But I do not believe that I could force myself into a situation where I would have to stand by while my parents were tortured or executed."

More mutters. Some of them skeptical, others speculative. He caught the phrase Lethean waters floating through the air at one point, but he couldn't have said where it came from.

"There is one more thing I would like you to consider while determining what sentences will be permitted to the court," said Danny. He took a deep breath. "The same monsters who recently attacked the Core now hold my haunt and the portal there under siege." Danny briefly bit his lip, trying to ignore the sudden silence. "You may find my parents' past actions to be distasteful, but they fought against the GIW as well, and their expertise would be useful in fending them off."

Danny held himself in place for another split second. Alright, he said his piece. He got the information out there. Time to go.

He gave the assembled ghosts and Lady Themis another sort-of-bow and made for the for the doors. Some advocates made attempts to flag him down, but he just gave them polite little smiles and waves and kept moving. Jazz opened the door for him, and he, his friends, and grandfather escaped, leaving Hemlock behind to do his job.

"See?" said Jazz, once they were in the hallway. "You did fine."

"I said everything I was supposed to say, right?" asked Danny.

"I think so," said Tucker. "So, what's next?"

"I don't know," said Danny, shrugging. "Maybe—" He swallowed his next words, suddenly dizzy. His vision began to gray out along the edges. He stopped floating, connecting with the floor with enough force to make a noise. Clockwork catches his shoulder.

They're speaking to him, but the words wash away.