Reviews!

Asilla: Yep, it's good to be back. :)

AstrogalTurfasH-ll: Gotta give Danny some slack. He is still a kid, after all. :D

17: Glad to see you again! It shouldn't be too terribly long before more siblings arrive.

ReflectiveReader: The president is a bit of a ironic mirror for Danny here. Not exactly a foil, but close to it? If that makes any sense?

Dp-Marvel94: I'm glad you liked the chapter!

Cyan Quartz: Yeah, I think for this part, I wound up with a few too many fragmented plot threads, and I'm trying to consolidate them more, now.

Jeptwin: Oh, I didn't even consider that an option! I don't know a lot about international politics, unfortunately.

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Chapter 235: Amber Alert

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"Well, this isn't as versatile as my staff, but I suppose it will have to do for now."

The Unstoppable Mailman came back to himself slowly, aware that he was nowhere near the GIW bosses. He had… Had he been turned away from his path? His delivery?

Had he stopped?

No. Only when he gave up would he rightly be considered to have 'stopped.' This was only a delay, and even he suffered those at times.

But… He should probably stop working himself up to a fainting spell or whatever it was called nowadays, and actually determine what was going on. This was far from the first time he had been bewitched or enchanted in the line of duty (although it was certainly one of the more annoying episodes) and he needed to get a grip on himself.

A pale, sallow human man in a prisoner's uniform stood before him among the trees. His lips were quirked in a cruel grin beneath his hooked nose. Another ghost was there, a woman with spiked hair, tattoos, and piercings. She stood next to the man like she was his leman.

In the man's hand was an amulet of some sort. It was hard to tell what. Perhaps a mandrake of some kind. Something natural and gnarled but clearly modified by intelligent hands. Or tentacles. Or perhaps hooves, considering how rough the shaping was.

"Thank you," said the man. "The Mailman, was it? Thank you for delivering me to my friend." He cackled.

The mailman shifted his gaze between the man and woman. He itched to get back to the chase, to make his delivery (of rage) to the leaders of the GIW (and to find his horse), but he was wary of being ensorcelled again.

The human had other talismans with him. The Unstoppable Mailman had kept his courses for long enough to know how much of a threat a 'mere' human could be. He had been dead for longer than the Fright Knight had been an Ancient. He had seen ages of magic come and go, even if he had never studied the subject.

"Lydia, my dear," said the man, holding out his hand. The ghost, Lydia, flew to him, casting a disdainful glance in the Unstoppable Mailman's direction.

Alright. That did it. He didn't spend literal millennia delivering the mail so that someone who had probably died in the twentieth century could look down on him. This meant war. Calamity pooled at his fingertips.

His horse thundered into the clearing. The grayscale boy, Poindexter, clung to his back.

"Oh, thank goodness, sir! I was really worried when you ran off like that. What-?"

"Oh, ho!" said the man, raising his talisman. "You'll do for this next part."

Poindexter's head snapped around, lightning fast, and he drifted off the Unstoppable Mailman's horse. The Unstoppable Mailman decided to lunge at the annoying human now rather than later.

Poindexter inserted himself in-between them.

"Good, good!" chortled the man. "You'll protect weak little old me from bullies, now, won't you? Hehe, Lydia, I think we've got a much better grip on this one. Don't follow me, mailman. You wouldn't want your little friend to get hurt, now, would you? I'll let him go in a few days."

They had a hostage, now.

He exchanged a glance with his horse. Their quarry, their destination, was getting farther and farther away. The itch of his Obsession was rapidly becoming a burn in his mind.

There might not be a way to free the grayscale boy. Not easily, in any case.

"I'll send you a letter," promised the Unstoppable Mailman, floating towards his horse. For now, he had to deliver the one he already had.

(Freakshow smirked.)

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While the president grudgingly slept on the couch, his team of advisors debated with one another in the next room.

"After that display, it's clear they don't respect our sovereignty."

"To be fair, from their perspective they probably feel as if we've trespassed on their sovereignty."

"I'm not saying that releasing prisoners as a show of good faith isn't a good idea in theory," said a third.

"I am."

"It's only that we don't know what their intentions are, and we have no way to communicate ours. They could attack us as soon as we let them out!"

"Related issue: How sure are we that they won't starve to death or anything?"

"They're ghosts."

"Yes, but are they ghost-ghosts, or are they only called that for convenience's sake?"

"The letter calls them ghosts."

"But is that a translation convention, or metaphorical? We don't know that they're actually dead people."

"Knowing who we're dealing with is vital," admitted a man who had thus far been quiet.

"We're not even sure what the position the guy who wrote the letter has, and a full quarter of it is just his titles."

"You'd think the titles would be at least somewhat meaningful, but…"

All the advisors sighed as one.

"They're probably meaningful to their culture," supplied the one anthropologist present.

"Sure. 'Terror Under the Bed' is probably super meaningful."

"Was that really one of them?"

"Yes."

"Are we sure this isn't a prank?"

"Pretty sure, yeah."

"Well. They are ghosts."

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"My parents are not solely to blame for their views on ghosts," said Danny. "Like Mr. Plasmius mentioned, my father was raised in an environment hostile to the supernatural. It is my understanding that, during college, all three of them shared similar view regarding ghosts. Views that, in my parents' case, became stronger over time. Following his transformation, Mr. Plasmius did little to turn them from these views, despite having evidence that refuted them."

Danny inhaled slowly, then sighed. This next bit was going to be difficult.

"I do not condemn him for that, as I did much the same thing. In fact, my transgression may be worse, because I saw evidence that they would accept me, or at least try, and yet I continued withholding information. Additionally, the tendency of the ghosts they encountered to be engaged in battle—in violence—only reinforced this belief. On the other hand, in the relatively brief time that they have had good evidence to the contrary, they have changed their beliefs greatly. Therefore, I believe harsh, long-term punishments will be counterproductive. Furthermore, such punishments will also be detrimental to myself and my human sister."

"Can you elaborate on how it would be detrimental?" asked Hemlock, evenly.

"My sister and I intend to live on Earth, at least part-time. I am still a legal minor by the laws of the country that Amity Park is part of, and although Jazz is legally an adult, in our culture it is generally expected that new adults remain partially dependent on their parents for some time after reaching legal majority. The lack of that support would damage her ability to be socially active and financially stable."

"Thank you. Outside of their prejudices against ghosts in general and your ghostly identity in particular, how would you characterize your parent's behavior towards you?"

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"Mr. Lancer," said Astraea, "as a long-time resident of Amity Park, and someone who is familiar with the Fenton family, can you please tell us how the defendants' attitude towards ghosts affected their interactions with others? Particularly their interactions with their children."

"Well," said Mr. Lancer, lacing his fingers together, "their… attitude affected essentially everything they did. Considering that researching and hunting ghosts was their chosen profession." He swallowed. "It certainly flavored many of their interactions with teachers. I know that before ghosts started to come to Amity Park, I and many of my colleagues thought they were insane. As for their children… I did not know Danny prior to his, ah, transformation, but Jasmine harbored some resentment towards her parents for their beliefs. Even so, I never saw them be anything but loving towards either of their children. Even if they were obviously… inattentive. Especially in retrospect."

"Inattentive? How so? And why in retrospect?"

Danny braced himself.

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"I can't wait for Clockwork to get back," said Danny.

"What, I'm not good enough emotional support?" asked Tucker, mock-offended.

"Not really," admitted Danny.

"Ouch, but fair," said Tucker.

"You're not even going to count me right now, are you?" asked Jazz.

"I am!" protested Danny.

Jazz crossed her arms.

"Mostly," admitted Danny.

"What about us?" asked Damien, enthusiastically gesturing towards himself and Fright Knight.

"You count," said Danny. "What were you guys doing during the hearing?"

"Fright Knight was teaching me how to tell whether or not someone is going to attack you."

"By you, you mean, like, people in general, right? You mean, whether or not people are going to attack you. Right?"

"No, you."

"Fright Knight, please stop encouraging my little brother to be my bodyguard."

"But he'd be so good at it!"

"He could get hurt!"

"But if I'm not, then you could get hurt," said Damien, his eyes filling with tears. "You're my family… I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you guys… I think- I think it's my Obsession."

"Well," said Danny, crumbling. "I guess as long as Fright Knight protects you, too…" He sighed. "It would probably be okay."

"Yes!" said Damien, shroud fluttering as he pumped his fist in the air. "It worked, just like you said!"

"Wait," said Danny.

"Ah, yes," said Fright Knight, stroking the bottom of his helmet as if it were a beard. "The fine art of manipulating one's protectee into being protected. Excellent, excellent, my young squire."

"Wait," repeated Danny.

"You will certainly be ready for the tournament held at his highnesses coronation celebration."

"I've already been coronated!"

"Yes, yes, but it hasn't been celebrated yet, your highness."

"We don't have time for a celebration!" said Danny, throwing his hands up. "We've still got the hearings, then the GIW trials, then I've got to figure out how to negotiate a treaty with the US, and maybe even the UN, about people not sending ghost hunters after my people! Also, figure out how to make it so that everyone in Amity Park doesn't starve to death by Christmas! We have no time."

Unless he decided to make Clockwork's job even harder by screwing around with his still-growing temporal abilities.

"Hey," said Tucker. "Speaking of that, it just occurred to me: How are you going to get the president's reply?"

Danny stared for a moment, then slowly ran his hand down his face, fingers pulling at his eyelids. "Crud." He saw Jazz taking notes. "Stop that," he said.

"No," said Jazz. "This needs to be documented."

"It really, really does not."

Why did diplomacy have to be so hard?

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"Wow!" said Ellie, running her finger down the list of notes Pandora had made. "Thanks! I didn't know diplomacy could be so easy!"

"In practice it is a little more difficult," said Pandora, "but you should be as ready as any princess your age to harass heads of state."

"Excellent," said Ellie, drumming her fingers together and laughing evilly.

"Yes, perhaps you should not do that where the heads of state can see you."

"Except for Danny," said Ellie. "How else am I going terrify him into making my position official?"

Pandora patted her shoulder. "It may also be useful if you have Sojourn on your side," she said, "as I am fairly confident that he will be put in charge of any diplomatic mission, on account of his experience in such matters. Although, that will have to wait until he gets back."

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"Ah," said Sojourn. "This is a problem."

"You think?" shouted Nephthys, keeping a hand on her veil so it didn't blow away.

"At least it isn't a portal," said Sojourn

"If it was a portal, we'd be able to fix it!" countered Nephthys.

"That's true," said Sojourn, scratching his head at the temporal distortion the GIW's weapon had left. "How is it causing that wind?"

"It's probably a paradox," said Nephthys. "Although, that would imply that there's a portal somewhere in that. I can't feel it. Can you?"

"No," said Sojourn. "Perhaps a ghost was caught in it?"

"No, no, I'd definitely be able to detect that," said Nephthys. "I think this is more Clockwork's kind of thing."

"Yes," said a very exhausted-sounding Clockwork, emerging from a portal nearby. "Well. Unfortunately, I am going to need your help with this." He sighed. "And it will take a while."

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"I can't wait for Clockwork to get back," repeated Danny vehemently.

There was a shout from the distance. "Phantom! Lord Phantom!"

"Oh, gosh," said Danny, turning to look at whatever had gone wrong now.

Ah. That was Wulf. It had been a while since he'd seen Wulf, but he was pretty sure Wulf didn't know the word 'lord,' so… Oh, he was carrying someone.

… Was that Mar? What happened to her hair?

"Hi, Wulf!" said Danny, waving and not at all eager to find out what was going on.

"Amiko!" cried Wulf, dropping Mar (who floated) and wrapping Danny in a furry hug.

"Hey," said Mar. "So, uh. You know that army that was put together to beat up the GIW?"

"Don't tell me," said Danny.

"Yeah," said Mar, shrugging sheepishly. "We sort of screwed up. Help."

"Can you describe the nature of the screw up?" asked Danny. "Did the GIW capture anyone or get away?"

"Eh," said Mar, rocking her hand back and forth. "Sort of? Both? Also, the actual US army got a few guys… The GIW captured them, then the army captured the GIW. Or it could have been the National Guard? I don't know how to tell the differences."

"The ones who were caught, the US has them now?" asked Danny, for clarification. "All of them?"

"I think so. We got all the jets and hovercraft. Took a bit for us to manage that, but we have natural air superiority, so it isn't that surprising. There might be some people unaccounted for, though. We lost track of who was where after that explosion."

"So, you fought the people with actual ghost weapons," said Tucker, "but not the people who just had guns."

"We thought it would be better not to. Skulker at least was under the impression you wanted to have a good relationship with the country of your birth."

"Well," said Danny, "he's not wrong." He drew a hand down over his face. "I really need Sojourn back here, so I can send him there."

"You're not coming?" asked Mar, eyebrows going up. "I would have thought you'd portal there as soon as you heard."

"I'd like to," said Danny, "but I have to stay for the trial. Are you sure there's no one with the GIW?"

"No," said Mar, very bluntly.

"That's… really bad." He snapped a finger. "You have the Unstoppable Mailman with you, right? Send letters to the people who are missing."

"Can't find him," said Mar, "or they wouldn't have sent us." She gestured between herself and Wulf.

"Okay," said Danny. He drummed his fingers on his arms. "I have an idea. I don't think I like it, though."

"Oh, I think I know what it is," said Damien. "I like it."

"What is it?" asked Tucker.

"There are GIW agents here awaiting trial. Highly ranked ones entrusted with an important mission. They might know where their friends would go if their headquarters were compromised." He turned to Fright Knight. "How good are you at interrogation?"

Fright Knight smiled. "I thought you would never ask."

"No torture," said Danny, quickly.

"I'm not an amateur, your majesty."

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"What to do, what to do," said Freakshow, lovingly stroking the artifacts he'd picked up from the GIW. "That's the question, isn't it? No ghost boy here to stop me this time, and all these ghosts running around, making nuisances of themselves. I could name my price!"

Lydia nodded slightly, nudging along the gray-colored ghost Freakshow had under his control.

"I could be a hero, now that the GIW ha proven themselves to be so untrustworthy! The savior of mankind! What a show!" He cackled. "Or," he said. "we could take the world into our hands once again. Amity Park… How many new friends could we make, my dear?"

Lydia, voiceless, only smiled in response.

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The Unstoppable Mailman sighed in relief. He had delivered his message. No, the location, in the middle of a populated city, was not ideal, but even so… He nudged the director of the GIW with his toe, then loaded the limp body onto the back of his horse.

"This needs to go back to Libra," he said. He floated to his horse's back and slumped down, one hand pressing to a wound he'd gained in the battle. His eyes slipped closed.

He might be unstoppable, but sometimes even he needed to rest.

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"Alright," said Danny. "We'll need to set up a raid on the GIW places, but…" He sighed. "I'd prefer to get back the ones that the actual government wound up with through diplomacy. Just to, I don't know, set the mood."

"Raids first?" asked Fright Knight.

"Yeah, let's do the easiest part first," said Danny. It was, after all, the only way he got done with any of his homework at all.