HELLO BOYS! I'M BAAAAAAAAACK!
Sorry for the long wait, but between finishing the last weeks of college and finals, mother's day, my sister's graduation, finding work, and getting my wisdom teeth out, my life got kind of busy. After that, it was the matter of getting back into the kick of things, which is always difficult for me.
I did find a way to get past that, as well as my writer's block though. Go to the website called "Fighter's Block", it's great.
Don't worry, I'm not abandoning my story… again.
The Games Rich People Play
The Goth
Day 1- 3:40
After getting a small drink, Pacifica had decided to see what was happening in the courtyard first. Maybe she'd finally be able to have fun there.
The courtyard was astonishing, to say the least. Flowers of all kinds were growing in a carefully placed formation surrounding an area full of seats. Various fountains of water were placed in this garden border, all flowing in intricate ways. What happened to be most astonishing though, were a patch of trees on the far side of the area. Pacifica didn't know how he did it, but Whimsley had managed to grow those several trees in a way that formed a stage. It must have taken years to do it… or months if advanced with science.
Currently on stage was a jazz singer and his musical backup. He sang with great emotion, with many audience members being brought to tears. Despite changing many things about herself, she had always preferred calm and slow music like this, and the quiet ambience that surrounded it. There had been that phase with Sev'ral Timez, but luckily, she grew out of that. Especially when Mabel told her they were actual clones bred in a lab, which made it waaaay too creepy (she was never sure what she saw in them). Oh well. Point being that she was more suited to styles like jazz and orchestrated music.
In fact, she still appreciated many things like this. She wanted to be a better person, yes, but she couldn't help but feel attracted to the lavish and fancy. Whether it be her leaning towards high fashion or her preference for fine dining, she'd enjoy it greatly.
However, her preferences would often make her worry about her personality. Did liking such things make her a pretentious type of person? Was she just naturally meant to be cold and cynical? Was being an awful person in her D.N.A.?
Dipper didn't seem to think so. "Just because you're your parents' daughter, doesn't mean you have to be like them." Another thing she remembered him saying from that one night. Despite him telling her that, it didn't make Paz any less worried about what the rest of the world saw her as. She didn't like thinking about it, so for now she chose to watch the singer.
The jazz singer finished up, and a comedian came up for the next act. His routine was pretty hilarious, and Pacifica found herself laughing plenty of times. Pacifica wondered if all the acts were going to be like this. Searching around for a bit, she managed to find a programme with the complete list of acts that would go through the night. And she'd been pretty spot on: the acts were all highly sophisticated bands, singers, and comedians.
Even though she was right, this knowledge made Pacifica frown. Was it really going to be things so similar to each other all night? She could understand that it was a high-class event, but all of the entertainers listed were all very reserved, highbrow, or unenergetic. It fit her preferences, sure, but even she had her limits. Did no one think this would get boring at some point?
Perhaps this was the line of thinking that kept her from being considered pretentious. That she didn't enjoy such things simply because she was trying to uphold an image. That she could step outside her hobbies and still enjoy herself.
Something that apparently almost no one could do here. She looked over the brochure once more, and yearned for a bit of diversity. She couldn't enjoy what she liked best if it was the only thing she could listen to all night. At times like this, she yearned for the excitement of Mabel's style.
Yes, sometimes that would involve just a little too much glitter and sequins, but give Mabel the right supplies and she could create an awesome high-octane party or event. And when the two of them put their skills together, no one could resist coming to their shindigs.
She thought back to the last party they planned and giggled a bit. Strange how flying pigs, a golden Soos, and a dance-off with attacking monsters were something she didn't consider out of the ordinary. It was a memorable one to be sure.
Even stranger though was Mabel being so willing to let go of the past. Why she considered Pacifica her friend after all the crap she put her through, Paz didn't know, even after the last few years had passed. Sure, almost every girl in town was her victim or pawn at the time, but Pacifica had tried her damned best to humiliate Mabel and dash her hopes any chance she had.
And yet after the golf-people incident (she was still going to sue them), she just dropped it all and went on with her life. And then accepted Paz as a friend almost immediately the first time she asked to hang out with them. It bugged her to no end. She was happy about it, and yet… frustrated at the same time.
See, life hadn't exactly been treating Pacifica as well as Mabel had. In fact, life had been hitting her with hard doses of reality for a while now. And seeing how Mabel could sweep everything under the rug, it only made her wonder why Mabel took their horrible past so well. So on the night of the party, she decided to put the dilemma to rest.
Pacifica stood by the punch bowl, watching as a group of goblins ran away crying (Who knew they were into disco? Supposedly it fell under their admiration of shiny things.). Mabel, the victor, was currently celebrating by shooting two glitter pistols in the air.
"Oh yeah! That's what happens when you mess with the Suave Sweater Sister!" Mabel proceeded to take the bowl of punch and splash it on her, letting out another victory scream.
"Mabel? Mabel!" Pacifica snapped her fingers as she tried to get the girl's attention.
"Huh, what?" The Pines sister finally snapped out of her dance-off mode. "Oh, hey Paz! Don't worry about the punch, I planned a contingency just for such a thing." She signaled Soos, who ended up bringing out another bowl of punch.
Pacifica narrowed her eyes. "Does that mean you were planning on dumping it on you from the start, regardless of monster attacks?"
"Maaaaaaayybe."
"One cannot resist the feeling of being a victorious sports coach. It's like, the best morale boost dudes." Soos said, still gold, before walking away.
Pacifica chuckled at this, even though she didn't quite understand it. But figuring out that mystery would have to wait. There was still something that needed to be discussed before the night was over.
"Hey, Mabel, can we talk about something? I can get you some towels while we're at it."
"So... what didja want to discuss with ol' mabes, Paz?" Mabel asked, as she wrapped a towel around her hair, new clothes on.
Pacifica looked a bit hesitant to start. But she had already brought Mabel down here. She couldn't just turn back now. "Mabel, we're friends, right?"
Mabel seemed confused as to why she would even ask that. "Well doi, of course we are! Why wouldn't we be?"
"I can think of a few reasons." Pacifica replied.
Mabel sighed. "Paz, what happened in the past is the past. You're no walking one-dimensional valley girl stereotype anymore. Well, not mostly, anyway. You do still have quite the hankering for fashion..."
"Mabel, I can understand people leaving things in the past and letting them be." She sat down on Dipper's bed. "But it feels like it shouldn't be as easy as your trying to make it be."
"And who says it can't be?" Mabel asked, beginning to get more serious. "I've had the hatchet buried on our petty rivalry since the first summer we got here. So I don't see how hard it can be." Pacifica didn't look convinced.
Pacifica snapped. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have let it go like that! Look at all the terrible things I did! I cheated on our first meeting! I almost took Waddles! I tried to humiliate you every chance I got! How can you just overlook all that and accept me as a friend so easily?"
"Well how come you want me to hate you again so much? Do you really not want to be my friend?"
"No! ...No, it's... it's amazing being your friend. Dipper's too. But I... don't feel like I deserve it."
Mabel sat next to her. "Come on, you totally deserve it! Anyone who's gone without a real friend for so long need to experience true friendship! And all the other mushy goodness!" Mabel put her hand on Pacifica's shoulder. "Is there something I'm missing here? I feel like you're not telling me everything."
Pacifica was silent for a solid minute before speaking again. "...You... you guys aren't here during the school year. The people in school, the kids I'd been stomping on for years... they haven't been so forgiving."
"Oh no..." Mabel said, suspecting where this was going.
"The first year I went back to school, before I became real friends with you guys, I tried turning my life around. I tried making it up to the kids I've been picking on for about four years. And they were willing to bury the hatchet alright. Right into my face." Pacifica thought back to the terrifying first year. "The popular girls turned on me first. They kicked me out of all their social circles because I wanted to treat the "commoners" with decency."
"Well, that's to be expected." Mabel shrugged. "Those guys are usually the worst." She gave Pacifica a smile. "Usually."
Pacifica didn't return it. "Everyone else got confused at how differently I was acting at first. They weren't sure what to do about it. But they quickly found out how they wanted to deal with it." Pacifica's eyes became watery. "They started taking advantage of it."
"You mean... they made you do stupid things?"
"No, no. I'm not that naive. But they did things they knew I wouldn't fight back against." She shuddered as she remembered. "A lot of the boys would pull cruel pranks on me, like stuffing gross things into my locker, or tripping me in the hallway. The girls would start rumors about me online and in person. I don't think anyone ever believed them, but everyone knew it would still... hurt. So they spread them around anyway. Not to mention they started to keep me out of their social circles too. No one would invite me anywhere, no boy would ask me out- not that I wanted them too, but it was telling nonetheless- everyone wanted nothing to do with me."
"What about Candy and Grenda?" Mabel was curious about how her other friends had been handling this. "They aren't like that. They've been your friends for as long as I have. Plus, us three have been the misfitty of misfits since the beginning. We don't judge you know."
"They helped. As best as they could, at least. Everyone mostly left them alone since they became legends from the Weirdpocalypse."
"Weirdmageddon."
"Whatever it was. But yeah, everyone thought I was just using them. Candy and Grenda watched my back when they could, but we aren't able to be around each other all the time."
Mabel took the towel off and scratched the back of her head. "Imma guess your parents were butts about this too."
Pacifica grimaced. "The exact reason I never told them. They would've used it as a chance to tell me off for how I had been acting."
Mabel didn't reply. To think people had been treating her this badly... it reminded her that not everyone was as forgiving as her. "I'm sorry Paz. I don't understand why other people can't let it go."
"Because you only got the tip of the iceberg. Look, Mabel, as bad as I treated you, and even though you became one of my worst enemies in a matter of days, you got far from the worst I've done." Pacifica looked back at her friend. "It's why I think you shouldn't have been so accepting of me. I've done some pretty bad things. If you had seen me do them in person..."
Mabel wasn't sure she wanted to know... but she probably had to. "Uh... just what kind of stuff are talking about here?"
"You want an example? Okay, well, there's Suzy Prixley. Wanted to be a journalist since she was a kid. She always spoke her mind about the popular girls in her column in the school newspaper. So one day, I secretly had it so her column would be replaced by a random ramble about how much she liked to... eat paste."
"Euh... That is bad... wait, paste?"
"Yeah, we were only nine years old. Didn't know why we were able to write a paper though..." Pacifica pondered.
"That's only one of many questions I'd ask about that, Paz."
"Er… not the point. Chalk it up to Gravity Falls weirdness." Mabel shrugged. "Anyway, recently Suzy has been making sure to taking jabs at me in the paper whenever she can. Sometimes the whole column is on me. And she's not even the worst."
"I… think I can get the idea." Mabel sighed again. "Look, Paz… I can't deny you were kinda terrible back then. No matter how deep I dig, that hatchet's still gonna be there. And while I was willing to forgive you so quickly, other people take time. That might be my fault though. I'm always ready to make reality as easy as possible, but sometimes it just isn't. It's not gonna be easy showing people you've changed.
Pacifica hung her head, some tears falling.
"But don't you think for a second that you don't deserve good friends. Those bozos aren't in the right. They're just holding a grudge. The reason why I never keep grudges, or go out of my way to antagonize anyone is because it's just. So. Dumb. It's always dumb. Sure, someone can understand why those jerks are treating you badly, but they aren't justified. They just wanna stay angry and make everything worse and never fix anything because it means they won't get to be angry at you anymore."
Pacifica looked on as Mabel continued.
"Forget those guys Paz. You might not ever satisfy them. But you don't have to anymore. True friends will see how great you actually are without you needing to try so hard to prove it. And I think you'll make new friends someday. Ones that'll see how amazing you are- just like me, my brother, and Wendy… ones that won't keep bringing your past up to haunt you." Mabel finished and gave her a big hug.
Pacifica hugged her back. "You… think so?"
"Of course." Mabel the pulled away excitedly. "And then your new friends can meet us and we can have sleepovers and go on monster hunts and-" She ran over to the window and opened it. "-HAVE PARTIES WHERE WE BEAT LAME GOBLINS ON THE DANCE FLOOR!"
Pacifica chuckled as Mabel returned to her perky self. Still, she had to wonder… "How will I know?" Said party animal turned back to her.
"Whuh? Oh! Trust me Paz, it's all about that feeling in your gut. You'll know when you meet them." She went back over to the bedroom door. "Now, let's get back out there! There's still more night left to party!" She suddenly grew a smug smile. "And get you hooked up with my bro-bro."
Pacifica stuttered. "W-what?! No, I'm not ready for that ye-" She slapped her hand over mouth when she realized Mabel had baited her.
"AHA! I KNEW IT! MY BEST FRIEND AND MY BRO FOR REALZIES THIS TIME!"
"Mabel! The window's still open!"
Luckily, no one had heard that due to the loud music. Unluckily, Pacifica had failed to keep her newfound love for Dipper a secret from Mabel. She imagined her many plans for spring break had actually been ruined because she wouldn't be able to hook the two of them up.
Still, had she made true friends since she had gotten here? Mr. Wayne was more like a concerned adult, and Billy obviously had a crush on her, which might make things weird.
For once, the suave atmosphere actually impeded her focus. Especially now that she felt like experiencing some Mabel craziness. She had to get out of here and find a quieter atmosphere.
However, as she turned to leave, she ended up bumping into someone.
"Oh!" She backed up a bit. "I'm sorry, sir."
"It's no problem young madam. I'm just glad your drink was empty." The man said, pointing at her glass.
"Heh, yeah. I was just on my way out to find a… "calmer" room." She noticed the man had odd snow white hair, tied back into a pony tail, with a matching goatee. He stood tall and straight, and almost seemed regal. It was as if his stature was demanding respect. Something about him also looked familiar.
"Of course. Sometimes even this sophisticated 'air' can be too much on the senses." He said looking around, before his eyes fell back on her. "Say, you look oddly familiar…"
"Oh no…"
"Ah yes, I recognize you! You're Preston's daughter, Pacifica!" He grew a bit perplexed. "Odd, you don't resemble him much at all."
Pacifica relaxed a bit. It felt nice to know she didn't look much like him. "Well, I don't mind."
The man snapped his fingers as if remembering something. "Speaking of which, I believe he was looking for you."
Pacifica's eyes widened. "He is?"
"Yes, and he looked as if he was suppressing some intense emotions. Are the two of you doing alright? Is there something going on?"
Pacifica grew very quiet. The man looked on in concern. "I shouldn't. It's… personal." She finally said.
"Oh dear. Are you sure? It seems like keeping quiet will make it worse." She stayed quiet. The man gave her a sincere smile. "My girl, you needn't worry. I'm one of your father's business associates. He's assisting me on the project that's helping your family recover. If anyone can keep a secret, it's me."
Pacifica finally realized where she recognized him. She didn't usually follow her father's "story" on the news, but when she did, she caught quick glances of this man. She didn't remember the name though…
But he seemed nice. Not to mention he was one of her father's partners. Maybe she was wrong about her dad's associates, and it was only Preston that wasn't being trustworthy. She pursed her lips in thought.
"…Well… I'm not supposed to stray far from him." She said. She wouldn't say everything, but just a little would be fine. "My dad's worried I'll mess up and give the family a bad name. He won't even let me go into another room by myself."
The man sighed. "Oh Preston… I keep telling him not to be so worried about his image. But now he's dragging you into it? This isn't very healthy." He knelt down. "Tell you what. I'll convince him to let you off of this unnecessary leash."
Pacifica eyes widened again. "But-"
"I know, I know. But out of the three of his partners, your father trusts me the most. He'll listen to me." He stroked his beard. "Though I don't remember where he is at the moment. I'll have to search for him." The man gasped and looked around the room. "Butter biscuits! Not again…" He groaned.
"What's wrong?"
"An old friend asked me to watch his daughter. Keep her out of trouble." Pacifica raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it sounds very similar to your situation, but I was meant to keep her safe."
"Keep her safe?"
"Well, she's a very peculiar girl you see. She's always been into the macabre. Would sooner read Edgar Allen Poe than a fashion magazine. Loves dark colors. There was a word for it I think…"
"She's Goth."
"Yes, that's it." He became somber. "But while there's nothing wrong with such a preference, other girls her age target her for such a thing. Much like now." He pointed to a girl that matched the goth type, as well as three other girls that were confronting her. "I would interfere, but I've already warded those same girls away once before. They're just going to keep coming. I fear it's because I'm watching from afar rather than being by her side."
"Yeah." Pacifica noted how similar they sounded to the old her. "Girls like that tend to pick off the outcasts."
"Like lowly coyotes it seems." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would stay by her, but I'm no fool. No girl wants to be pestered by an old coot like that. Still, I wish I could keep those pests away for good."
Pacifica pondered for a moment. He had been nice enough to consider talking to her father. Perhaps she could repay him this way. "I can watch her."
The man turned to her. "You would?"
"Yeah. Give her someone to hang out with for a little bit, and chase away the coyotes." She smiled. "I'm a teen, just like her. She'll listen to me."
He chuckled. "Ah, I see what you did there. Then again, this would make it easier to search for your father… yes, this could work. Though I would ask you not to tell her I had you come over, she gets very embarrassed when me or her parents meddle."
"Of course." She "zipped" her mouth shut. "Mum's the word."
"Thank you. You're a wonderful young lady Ms. Pacifica."
"It's no problem Mister…
"Vlad Masters. But you can just call me Vlad."
Day 1-2:15
It had been a long, long trip. The lectures by her father and mother certainly didn't help. They just droned on and on about how she should be more ladylike and not so gloomy and ERGGGGGH!
Needless to say, as her family's private jet was about to land, Sam Manson was in no mood to party. Especially not in a mood to party in a "sophisticated" way. Please… that just meant acting like a stuck-up prick who couldn't express themselves. With no offense to her parents… okay, maybe a little.
While her father had taken a break, her mother Pamela had kept on as usual. "Honestly, black is no good at a party like this. We're not going to a funeral young lady."
"Oh geez, never heard that one before." Sam retorted sarcastically.
"Well, Samantha, that's what happens when you look so dreary. Wearing something with warmer colors will give off a much more impressive aura. Especially at a lively party like this one."
"Is black really such a catastrophe to wear?"
Her mother scoffed. "Even if it wasn't, it still wouldn't be alright that they all look like they went through the shredder."
Sam smirked. "I don't know. I'd like to think it scares away unwanted attention."
"Ugh. Always difficult." The plane landed, and the pilot notified them that it was okay to stand.
The goth girl got up from her seat. "I could say the same." As she opened the compartment above her for one of her bags, a large human shaped object fell out of it.
"GUH!" It hit the floor with a thud, surprising all three present. As the figure got up, they all managed to recognize him.
"Danny?"
"Fenton?"
Danny rubbed his head, laughing nervously. "Oh! Well whaddya know, this isn't my room, hehe!" Sam's parents narrowed their eyes, clearly not satisfied with that answer. "Not buying it eh?"
"Danny, what are you doing here?" sam questioned him.
Sam's father Jeremy came forward. "I'd like to know the same."
"Oh, well, I know how much you hate these stuck-up parties, and I didn't want my girlfriend to suffer alone." Sam smiled at him.
"Aw, Danny…" Her smile soon turned into a frown. "You didn't plan this far ahead, did you?"
"Hiding in a small place was as far as I got, yeah."
"Don't worry, young man." Pamela began. "You won't have to plan anymore. You're going home."
Danny threw his hands up. "Wait, don't send me home! There's no one there. My family went on a spring break trip to Death Valley."
"Death Valley?! Why on earth would they go there?" Jeremy asked him.
"Ghosts." Danny simply replied.
"Ah…"
Pamela wasn't going to give up yet. "Still, we're calling your parents about this. I believe we can work something out."
"I'm sorry, but nothing will work out!" Danny's mom said, over the video phone. "We've only got the food and gas for one more trip out of Death Valley. Oh, and we're surrounded by ghost cowboys. Still, this does explain why Danny's been so motionless…"
"Mom! The ghosts hogtied Dad again!" Danny's sister Jazz said from offscreen.
"It's alright Maddie! I remember watching an old film of Houdini getting out of this easily! Ol' Jack Fenton'll be out sooner than you can say "Hi Ho"!"
Maddie shook her head. "I better go and get him free. Danny, we're having a long talk with you once the week is over. Come on Jazz, let's show 'em what us cowgirls can do!" And with that, the call shut off.
Danny sweat nervously, as the four stood in the hotel lobby. "Yeah, definitely didn't think this through." He turned his phone off and put it away.
Pamela just sighed. "Well, young man, it looks like you're stuck with us. Come on Jeremy, let's go ask the staff for a good tuxedo. If he's going to be here the whole week he'll at least look good."
"Indeed."
As Sam's parents walked away, the girl leaned over to her boyfriend with another smug grin. "Your parents provide nice cover, don't they?"
"Well, even without the trip to Death Valley, my mom is particularly great at acting." Danny smiled. "Plus, she jumps at any chance to pull the rug out from under Vlad."
"I'll bet. Still, meeting with two well-known supervillains. Not Vlad's smartest play."
"Maybe if people knew who he was, but out of the four of them, he's still got his secret identity. A "benevolent" one, at that." He air quoted benevolent. "Add that random inconspicuous fourth guy in and a lot of suspicion is taken off the group."
"Still, it's gonna be hard to find out anything with this island's security." Sam looked outside the window, spotting various armed guards. "You'd have be Batman to get anywhere around here…"
"Well, I may not be Batman, but I'm the next best thing." Sam gave him a funny look. "What? How much worse can a ghost be compared to a guy in a bat suit?"
Sam noticed ringing coming from his pocket. "Looks like Casanova's calling." She pointed to his phone.
"Huh? Oh." Pressing the button, their third friend Tucker appeared onscreen.
"I see a certain halfa made it okay."
"As far as I know, anyway." Danny jokingly looked around him to see if something was "missing".
Tucker gave them an inquiring eyebrow. "And my super special toys?"
"All hidden in my luggage." Sam answered.
"Good. And though all calls made outside the resort are usually monitored, they can't monitor transmissions made using ghost energy. Perfect for us tech geeks that don't have the billionaire budget to make tech with untraceable calls. They'll just think it's another call ghosting!" Tucker laughed at his own pun, then put his arms behind his head in relaxation. "Meaning you can update me anytime without worry. Especially when there's ladies around~."
Sam scoffed. "Yeah, cause a bunch of rich snobby girls are gonna want to talk to a tech junkie."
"Hey, I got the moves! They'll be impressed by my technical prowess!"
"Surely." Danny said sarcastically. "You're just antsy because you couldn't come, aren't you?"
Tucker suddenly broke down without warning. "I could've come along! Why didn't you take me too Danny? Aren't we friends?!"
Danny flinched at how loud he was getting. "Tuck! Easy! There's still people around us!"
Tucker snapped out of his episode. "Oh. Right. My bad."
Danny rubbed his ear. "So, are you sure your toys can help me spy on Vlad and his buddies?"
"Sure thing. You could do it with the phone in your hand alone if you wanted." He began searching on his computer. "But don't get comfortable. The tech I sent you is only good for getting past primary measures. If security thinks something is up, they'll do deeper scans, and they will find you."
Danny shrugged. "Well, for being on a budget, it's still decent."
"Only decent? You insult me Danny-boy."
"Yeah, yeah. Look, we'll get back to you when we have an update, ok?"
"Or a girl!"
"Not happening."
"Worth a shot. Foley out!" And the call ended.
Sam nudged Danny. "Right on time too. Here comes the fashion committee." She pointed to her parents reentering the room.
"Well, we found a nice tux for you Daniel! Looks like there was a silver lining."
"Oh boy." Danny sweat a bit.
Danny walked with the Mansons, tugging at his collar. "Feels like this collar is strangling me… who exactly are your parents trying to impress?"
"Ugh. Everyone." Sam said in disgust. She herself was currently sporting a long and dreary dress (1). "They think it's all about high standards, or something stupid like that."
"Well, I'll have a high standard death, that's for sure." He felt his neck again.
"Maybe, but luckily for you, I know CPR." She said jokingly.
Danny grinned. "I look forward to it."
"Pamela! Jeremy! It's so good that you made it!" The host of the resort, Whimsley, was currently greeting Sam's parents. He turned to the teens. "And that must mean you're Samantha and… and guest? Mr. Manson, I don't recall you saying you would take guests." He grew slightly stern, as if he himself was becoming a parent.
"My sincere apologies, Horace. He snuck aboard our plane so he could provide Samantha with company."
Whimsley's face softened. "Ah, young love. Kids always do crazy things for it… well, it's no real issue, honestly. Just keep track of him as if you had chosen to bring him."
"Of course, Horace. Ta-ta!" Pamela replied. And with that they all headed for the main ballroom. The young teens trailed a bit behind so they could discuss their plans without Sam's parents hearing.
Once they, entered, Danny's mouth dropped. The place was huge. "This mansion's colossal! It's gonna take forever to find Vlad in here. Especially when it gets more packed." He whispered to Sam.
"Which means we need to start looking now." Sam stated. "Come on, Danny."
"Just a minute, Samantha." Jeremy stopped them, hearing the last part. "Where do you think you're going?"
"What? If I'm going be stuck here, I might as well look around."
"Going off alone with Daniel? I think not." He rebuffed. "I'm aware of what goes through a boy's mind at that age."
"Agreed. Not only that, but we need to keep you two out of other troubles." Pamela added.
Sam lifted her finger. "Okay, first off? Ew. Danny's not like that, Dad. And secondly, as much as I would enjoy doing something that could get us kicked off the island, I don't want to go on another long and boring plane ride. You don't have anything to worry about from me."
Pamela shook her head. "Even if that were the case Samantha, we'd rather you stay here."
"Oh come on, as if you'd really want a goth girl and a middle class dork around your "friends"." She turned back to her boyfriend. "No offense, Danny."
"None taken."
Jeremy shook his head. "That's in no way true, Samantha."
"Yeah. Right."
Jeremy sighed, then thought of something. "Fine. But here's what's going to happen. You have three hours. If I haven't heard of any incident revolving around you or Daniel, then we will allow you two to go off on your own afterwards as well."
Sam thought for a moment. "…Deal."
Pamela crossed her arms. "Very well. I can agree to those terms too. But Daniel…"
"Yes, Mrs. Manson?"
She got right in his face. "Don't give me any inkling of suspicion that you've been up to some funny business with my daughter." Her eyes narrowed. "Or there will be consequences."
"D-d-deal."
"Alright then." She turned back to Sam. "You may go Samanatha."
Sam pulled Danny along, the boy still trying to stop shaking. A good distance away from them, he finally spoke. "If I had any thoughts about wanting to do it, they've been thoroughly quelled."
"Same here." She blushed just thinking about it. She couldn't even think about such a thing without getting flustered.
"Any sign of him?" Danny asked, surveying the current room they were in.
"She groaned in response. "No, and this is the third large room we've been in."
Danny smashed his fist into his other hand. "And there's the possibility he's in a room we already checked in! We'll never find him like this."
"We have to cover more ground." Sam noted.
"You mean split up? I dunno Sam, feels like that might do more harm than good."
"We're not confronting Vlad directly, Danny. Just keeping an eye on him, remember?" She took his hand. "You and I both have Tucker's ear pieces. We'll contact each other if we find him."
"…Alright, but you stay safe, okay?" He gave her a peck on the cheek. "And once we get enough we're satisfied with we can have a few dances before the night's over." With that, he ran off down a hallway, a smile on his face. Sam was left blushing up a storm.
Snapping out of her trance, Sam went down the hallway opposite of Danny's. "Even splitting up, we might not end up finding him…" She thought to herself. She entered a large and lengthy room, filled with paintings and sculptures. "Hmm. More high-class things… I wonder how much of this stuff these people actually like. Some of them might just like it for the image it gives them…wait a minute."
What they like… high-class things… the image it gives them…
"Of course!" Sam exclaimed in her head. "There's got to be something here that would attract Vlad to it! But what?" After pondering, she thought of something that could work. She noticed one of the butlers near her.
"Excuse me, sir." The butler turned to her. "Does Mr. Whimsley have any rooms dedicated to sports?"
"Why yes he does Madam." He replied cheerfully. "Master Whimsley prides himself on his collection of various sports memorabilia. I may take you there if you'd like."
"That'd be great." She crossed her fingers, hoping this idea bore success.
As he guided her down the halls, he conversed with her more. "I have to say, I didn't expect one such as yourself to find interest in sports. But I can say you'll be greatly impressed with the Master's collection."
Sam decided to take this moment to get details. "Is there anything surrounding the Packers?"
"Indeed, there is. It's one of the Master's best items. The one and only game winning ball from the famous "Ice Bowl"!"
Sam wasn't sure what that was, considering she definitely wasn't interested in football. But if it was something famous that had to do with the Packers, Vlad would be attracted to it like a moth to a light.
They stopped at a door, and the butler opened it for Sam. "Here you are, Madam."
"Thanks, dude. I'll take it from here." The butler nodded as she walked in.
A large crowd had already bunched up inside the room. Though they were all dressed formally, Sam could hear casual sports talk coming from all directions. There were various doorways leading subsections of the room, each dedicated to a different sport. Sam started slowly walking through the room. If Vlad actually was here, then she would want to see him before he saw her.
A particularly loud amount of giggling caught her attention. Her eyes fell upon a group of girls around her age… and all of them had the same look as a certain alpha bitch from back home.
"Oh. Right. This is where girls like Paulina thrive." Just thinking about her made her blood boil. And that only made her want to tell off the random girls too. "Just… calm down, Sam. That's not what you're here for."
Brushing off her anger, she entered the section labeled "football". The entire room was filled to the brim with jerseys, helmets, and even a few patches of certain football fields. Sam could only wonder what the other rooms looked like…
"I could stare at it for the whole evening."
She jumped when she heard a familiar suave, yet menacing voice. Following the source, she found the Packers display, along with the Ice Bowl ball. And who could be standing there but the exact man she had been looking for. Vlad Masters, Danny's archenemy, and a guaranteed fruit loop. She smiled, counting herself lucky he hadn't seen her.
"A historical moment for the Packers, and for football in general. The intense Ice Bowl, where the Packers faced the Dallas Cowboys in the dreaded cold. Temperatures dropping below zero degrees, yet neither team would relent, even as some of them gained frostbite." Great. He was talking to himself. And hamming it up, at that. "And yet, the Packers prevailed, delivering the final goal with this ball…out of all of my own Packers memorabilia, this is the only item I've failed to get my hands on. Well, that and the team itself. And yet, Mr. Whimsley was able to obtain it with so little trouble! It baffles me to no end. I can't figure out how he did it." Sam rolled her eyes, pulling out her earpiece. "Though I bet you would know even less about that than I do, Samantha."
Samantha tensed up in fear.
"Yes, yes, shock and horror, "he knows". But you must remember that there is such a thing as reflective glass, young lady." He tapped on the ball's display case, then walked over to the goth. "Though honestly my girl, who wouldn't see you coming in that flashy thing? You might as well be Christopher Walken in a vampire suit."
Sam quickly regained her composure. "And you might as well be wearing a cheese head with how much you're fantasizing about that ball."
"Abrasive as usual, I see." Vlad simply kept staring down at her with that smug grin. "I take it young Daniel's also present at this party? It would explain the earpiece."
"Well, it wouldn't be a party if he wasn't kicking your butt, now would it?"
Vlad chuckled. "Oh, Samantha, you and I both know he can't lay a finger on me at this particular party. Though I suppose the vice versa is also true. But that hardly helps your case. I can converse with "business partners" as much as I would like, but your snooping around is something frowned upon on this resort."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Something also frowned upon is having your business partners be well-known criminal bluebloods."
"Ah, but being a well-known charitable billionaire can certainly turn those frowns upside down, can't they?" Vlad pulled out his phone. "This conversation has been lovely, Samantha, but my associates will be here soon, and I'd like to check some of the performances before our meeting."
"All the more reason for me to keep track of you."
"Hmm. Usually I would manipulate it to where you wouldn't be able to follow me… but this time I think I'll let natural societal archetypes do it all on their own."
"Natural societal archetypes?" What was he going on about now? Vlad merely walked out of the room, still smug.
"Well, well, well." A arrogant voice rang out from beside her. "I wasn't expecting a funeral to take place here."
"Well, someone's dressed for one, at least." The same giggling she heard from before rang out.
"Really? Funeral again? Is that always the first thing that comes to everyone's mind when they see me? The least people could do is at least be creative..." She found the source to be the very same group of girls from earlier, giggling even more than before. "Looks like these scavengers are here for their next meal." She crossed her arms.
"Oh, did we offend Ms. Gruesome? I'm sorry, but you look so out of place among the living." The middle girl said with a southern accent, and the other girls laughed with her. It seemed she was the leader.
"Well, I know I'm living better than you, southern belle." The girl frowned, and Sam could tell the girl felt ready to stomp her out. "Gotta say though, out of all the insults I've heard, that one's pretty bland. You know how many times I've heard of jeers having to do with corpses?"
"Well, it does take care of the weaker ones. But you're right. Freakier ones like you need to be hit with truths that have a bit more... mmm, strength." Her yes-girls nodded. "But I believe introductions are in order! I'm Clarabelle, and the only thing you need to know about me, is that when I'm around, I'm the queen. And that's regardless of whether your richer or poorer than me."
"Okay, I take it back, this girl might be even worse than Paulina." She was already losing her patience even faster than she usually lost it with her archenemy, a new record. "Well, Queenie, if you expect me to bow down, don't hold your breath."
"You're right, that's too good for you. I think groveling and begging for mercy sounds better." She turned to the other girls. "I mean, falling on the ground must come naturally to a depressing goth like you. Considering how apathetic you all always look, I'm surprised you have the energy or motivation to get out of bed in the morning."
"Common misconception." Sam retorted. "We care about things, it's just we couldn't care less about you perfectionists."
"Perfectionists? Or just perfect?" She grinned even harder. "Though that does explain it. You act so gloomy towards us popular kids because you're jealous. You know you can't ever be so good-looking, or sociable, or successful as us. No, the only thing goths are good at is apparently waiting for the end."
"That's emos, not goths. If you're going to insult me, do it right." Clarabelle didn't seem to care all that much. "And secondly, I can hardly link any of those attributes to you. You look almost encased with all that foundation on your face, no one really counts being rude and snobbish as good social traits, and all of your real success is piggy-backed off your parents. Now, as much as I'd like to keep tearing into you verbally, I have much better things to do tonight. Go find a mirror to get lost in." She strut away from the conversation. Oddly enough, Clarabelle didn't try to stop her. Maybe she was too busy fuming to try. Whatever, it was over with.
Getting back on track, she cursed when she realized she had lost Vlad. "Bastard must've seen them coming. He knew they'd confront and stall me." And by now he was already in an unknown part of the mansion. "Alright, Sam. Think... where would he go next? Maybe something he said before he left..."
She blazed through the conversation in her mind. It wasn't very helpful, that is until the last bit. "...but my associates will be here soon, and I'd like to check some of the performances before our meeting."
"Performances! He's going to be at the theater!" She quickly made a beeline for the outside area, currently holding the many acts and bands. He wouldn't be getting away that easily.
As she entered the fairly large courtyard, she at first didn't see any sign of the megalomaniac. Had she been wrong?
Her doubts were quelled though, as she spotted a familiar bleach white ponytail in the audience, currently enjoying a calming jazz song that was just finishing up.
She stayed in the back, not wanting to be seen. "Ok, that's good. He's here after all. Now I can call Danny and..."
"Excuse me, gothy?" A familiar southern accent called to her.
She slowly turned around, hoping it wasn't the same brunette from before... only to groan when the very same girl happened to be standing there. "What do you want?"
"Oh, just to applaud you. I had to admit it, you have a very quick mouth. And honestly I couldn't just let it go without a reward." She snickered.
Sam just stared at her incredulously. "A reward? Really? Right."
"Oh, but I'm serious! You see, it's something rather impressive when a girl fights against such a bleak power system we have. I'll be honest, it can really beat down on your spirit. I guess that's why I was so mean. It's always funny when it happens to someone else, and all that."
Sam wasn't buying it. "And you were surprised that I still had my spirit, is that it?"
"I really was." She said in a way that almost sounded convincing. "Truth is, when that struggle for power comes along, you can't help but play by it's rules. It's either step on everyone else, or be stampeded. And it don't feel good to be crushed by someone else's foot. Crushing others, well... the amusement yo get takes your mind off of what you've become."
Sam raised an eyebrow. She still wasn't buying it, but she had to wonder what this girl's motives were.
"So, let's have a proper introduction this time. I'm Clarabelle, and you are...?" She gestured to Sam.
"Sam." She put bluntly. "Sam Manson."
"Well, Sam, let me make it up to you for how I acted earlier. It'll be on me."
Sam didn't have time to question what exactly she was going to purchase at a place with free food, before a sudden feeling of cold and wet washed over her. As she pulled her now sticky hair out of her eyes, one of the burning from the punch. She could see from the traces of purple and black in the puddle beneath her that her makeup was running.
"Or rather, it's on you." She cackled. Her friends from before followed suit, and only now did Sam realize that they hadn't been by her side. "And your lovely reward is that we've made you smell better than you did before. You're welcome."
Sam growled at her. She tried to flick some of the punch onto the girl, but she managed to dodge it.
"Ohoho! Someone's grumpy." Her smile suddenly turned into a sinister sneer. "Now see, I told you before, I'm the queen. No one gets off saying what you said to me. Now, you can act as tough and rebellious as you want, but under all that hideous black and the spikes... you're just a loser that's trying to hide the fact that the world thinks she's pathetic. Meanwhile, under my makeup is just a different kind of beauty, that everyone finds to be a perfect fit for this world! So, call me arrogant, shallow, or maybe even sadistic-it won't matter! I've proven I'm one of the ones who will go far in this world. But the only thing you've proven is that you're another lowly commoner, ready to be crushed underneath the heels of people like me."
Sam wouldn't dare say it, but she could honestly cry right now. This girl was ten times worse than Paulina. Paulina would simply say how much more popular she was in an attempt to belittle you, but this girl? She was going out of her way to break people's spirits entirely. She was just about ready to attack this girl...
"Now, about that groveling..."
"Ahem."
All four girls turned to find a newcomer to the conflict. Sam could only wonder who had come. Hopefully someone that would kick Cowgirl out... But Sam's hopes dwindled when she saw yet another girl that fit Clarabelle's type of friend. "Do they just mate like rabbits here?!"
However, Clarabelle was not so delighted as one would think. As the blonde-haired girl stood there with her hands on her hips, she only felt the challenge of an outsider. It wasn't long before Sam could feel the intensity of the atmosphere increase.
"Did... did I just feel a chill?" She wondered, looking between the blonde and the brunette.
Clarabelle was ready to assert her dominance, making first introduction. "Do you need something?" The other girl didn't answer, simply continuing to stare her down. Clarabelle tried to hide the fact that this bothered her. "Well, I suggest you either join in on the fun, or leave. Though if you decide to stay, you might want to change. That hideous purple dress is too tacky for me to keep you around.
The blonde simply looked over Clarabelle's dress, before giving a scoff. Her face became less intense, and seemed only annoyed now.
For whatever reason Sam could not comprehend, Clarabelle began to get angry. "Well, well. Looks like we have another girl who thinks she's a big shot. Be careful, or someone may have to put you in your place." However, Clarabelle's posse were looking at each other in surprise. It was almost as if everyone here was speaking some unspoken language that Sam couldn't understand.
"Am I missing something here?"
The girl on the other hand have gone from annoyed to indifferent. Her attention went to Sam, looking her over now. "Ugh." Was the only thing she said.
This really set Clarabelle off. "Alright you blonde bimbo, perhaps you don't know who I am. I'm Clarabelle? Clarabelle Hawkthrone? When I'm present, everyone else is my place-mat. That includes you."
The girl finally spoke up. "How primitive. So you're the one who calls the shots. I was right... this party does have low standards."
"Low standards?!" Clarabelle fumed. "Just who do you think you are? No, don't tell me, because I already know. A dumb bitch who's going to be put in her place."
"Ugh. Yes. I could hear your screeching from the other side of the room." The girl stated. "How much effort you had to put into actually getting a few steps in life."
Clarabelle's yes-girls gasped. As she looked at the southern girl, even Sam could tell Clarabelle's confidence was breaking. "E-effort?"
"Honestly, the fact you have to try so hard... you probably think you're actually someone important, don't you? See, that's how the fake popular girls get things done." She suddenly snapped her fingers, and gestured the other two to get out. The girls left, as if the girl had been a bear. "The true ones' demand respect with their presence alone. People know they deserve to be considered gods and goddesses by the time they walk into the room. People know they shouldn't be messed with. And we can all see..." She looked at Sam again. "...that isn't the case with you."
Clarabelle could barely get her words out now. "B-but I... I'm the... Clarabelle...I-I-I'm queen!"
"You're still here?" Pacifica said, still looking disinterested. "Go play pretend somewhere else, princess."
Her confidence completely crushed, Clarabelle ran off. Sam could swear she saw her crying. As much as she wanted to laugh at this, it only made her sweat as the other girl remained. If she could make Clarabelle, whom Sam deemed even worse than Paulina, run away and cry, then what the hell was she like?
The blonde turned back to Sam... and gave her smile. "We can still save that dress." Sam didn't say anything. "Oh! Right. My name's Pacifica. Anyway, I think the servants can get all of this cleaned up in a manner of minutes. We can also tell them about those party crashers. Those sneaks caught you in a place where none of the security could really see you."
"Wait, wait, WAIT!" Sam raised up her hands. "Hold on a minute. You waltz right in, scare off little miss royalty, and then decide you want to help me? I don't think so. I've had enough tricks for one night."
Pacifica became sad. It was actually convincing, unlike Clarabelle's faces. "I... know you don't trust me. But you can trust the servants. They're good people, and they uphold the rules. They can take you to the showers and clean your dress up. I promise." Sam raised her finger up to argue with that, but lowered it when she realized... she was right. While she sure as hell couldn't trust this blonde girl, the staff could still help her regardless.
"Alright. Fine. Whatever."
Sam just glared at Pacifica, who was sitting there in the corner, waiting for Sam to get done drying. In her lap was Sam's dress all nice and clean, while some makeup supplies sat on the coffee table next to her. Surely enough, a servant had com back in a little less than fifteen minutes, with Sam's dress completely clean. Sam was more focused on Pacifica however, and how insistent she was on helping Sam clean up. Just what did this girl want, exactly? There was no way such a preppy girl would think of helping a goth like her without getting something out of it.
"So... how are you feeling?" Pacifica asked, trying to break the ice.
"What do you care?" Sam snapped back at her.
Pacifica shied away at that. "I just wanted to know if you were doing better."
Sam supposed she was, and grabbed her dress. "Yeah. But I'm not exactly ready to make friends here." She went behind a dressing screen.
"No, no, I understand." Her face fell somber a bit. "I don't think anyone would be in the mood to be helped by a quote-unquote "popular" girl."
"Look, would you just stop? I don't know what it is exactly you want, but you can stop with the act." She peered out from behind the screen. "I promised my parents I wouldn't get into it, and while I may be a rebel, I want to hold up on my end of the bargain this time."
"I'm not planning anything, I swear!" She said defensively. However, her head hung only moments later. "But... I can understand your suspicion. I was pretty much the exact person you would think I was a few years back."
"Oh, really? And what happened a few moments ago wasn't the same case?" she went back behind the screen.
Pacifica looked away, thinking back to the encounter. "Girls like that don't tend to be warded off by merely sticking up for yourself. If you want to chase them away, you have to be even more ruthless and vicious than they are. But yeah, I suppose it's still a good example of how I was when I was younger."
"What made you want to change into Ms. Nice-girl, exactly?" She peered around the screen once more.
"Some people I met. I was pretty cruel to them too. But they... they cracked open my shell. I've been trying to be better ever since." She remembered fondly.
Sam had gone from incredulous to... surprised. She could actually feel the sincerity in Pacifica's voice. More sincerity than she heard in a while. Though she was still suspicious she decided to relent a bit. "Well, I still don't trust you... but thanks."
Pacifica seemed relieved to hear that from her, and smiled. "No problem." She looked at the makeup beside her. "I didn't know what colors you had exactly, but these should still go with your dress nicely."
"Uh..." Sam was surprised again. She wanted to give her things of her preference? "Thanks...again."
After finally getting dressed, Sam left the room, Pacifica trailing a bit behind.
"You know, I can probably take care of myself for any future encounters." Sam noted.
"Maybe, but those popular girls might only see that as a challenge." She came up beside Sam. "But I know each type like the back of my-" She cut herself off as she yanked Sam into a dark hallway.
"What the-?" Pacifica shushed Sam, and looked from the dark area, not wanting to completely reveal herself. Sam however, had taken this another way. "Uh... hey, I don't really swing this way."
Pacifica coughed, even though she hadn't been drinking anything. "Wh-what? No, no, I just didn't want someone to see me."
This only confused Sam. She heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and looked at where they once were. The person who came by was... herself. Sam's jaw dropped. After that, a teenage boy trying to get "Pacifica's" attention ran by. Finally, a young boy with a weird looking hairstyle walked by. Pacifica decided this was the time to pop out.
"Billy!" She quietly called, but it was enough to get the kid's attention. She gave him a thumbs up, and he waved excitedly right back at her, before continuing after the other two.
Sam emerged from the hallway as well. "So we were hiding from... yourself."
"Yes. Wait, no. we're hiding from the teenage boy. That Pacifica's a decoy." Sam couldn't shut her jaw. It sounded so ridiculous. "It's a... long story. Let's just continue back to the party, okay?"
"R...right." Sam reluctantly agreed. Maybe it would be better if she just pretended that didn't happen. A few minutes later, after getting over the shock,Sam was wondering something different. "Hey, Pacifica."
"Hmm?"
"I got to ask. If you want to change so badly, then why still interested in all the high-maintenance stuff? That choker doesn't look cheap." She pointed to Pacifica's chalcedony.
Pacifica gripped the gem. "Well... liking nice restaurants and fashion is something I still really enjoy. Even while trying to change, it still keeps my interest. But I don't think i'm any better than others because of it. It's nothing impressive, right? Just an interest."
Sam never really thought of it that way. Most of the time when people were into these kind of things, they were also elitists who thought little of anyone else, or their hobbies. She never associated "fashion" or symphonies with any decent people. But whether she was good or not, Pacifica yet again had a point. What about those people who just... liked it? It wasn't really the type of music or art that it was, it was who came along with it. They gave nice clothes and orchestras a bad name.
"Looks like we made it back to the ballroom. Are you sure you don't want any help for the snobs around here?"
Sam didn't smile, but she wasn't angry anymore. Maybe she should meet this girl again, and see if she was truly out to help. "I'm... fine. Honestly. Plus, considering you scared away the "queen", I'd think her pawns won't be trying anything anytime soon. And... the name's Sam."
"Okay, stay safe out there Sam."
She smirked in response. "Don't worry, those elitists won't get the drop on me anym-" She paused and mentally went back over the word "elitists" again. "Crap! Vlad!" "Okay, Pacifica, I really got to get going! Maybe we'll see each other again tonight."
"Yeah. Maybe."
Pacifica's smile hadn't gone away yet. Besides the suspicion, something about helping this girl felt good. She wasn't sure if this was what Mabel was talking about... but she had some kind of feeling in her gut, that's for sure.
"PACIFICA ELISE NORTHWEST!"
That gut feeling soon turned into nausea, when she heard a familiar yell.
In another room, Vlad was chuckling to himself. "Ah, yes. I do so love it when things fall together. It almost makes me forget that Preston is being an imbecile." He clenched his fist.
His phone vibrated again. Taking it out, his facial expression grew calm.
"Honestly, must that idiot girl and that monkey brain take so long? I must be the only precise one out of any of us. Oh well. This gives me time to knock some sense into Preston."
A good ways away, near the center of the island, the security team worked hard watching for incoming threats. Inside the monitoring room, many officers looked over live footage of the surrounding ocean. It'd mostly been quiet, minus the arrival of the guests. However, one officer noticed something strange on his monitor.
"Sir, are you seeing this?" The cadet asked his superior.
"What is it rookie?"
"I mean, I didn't think it was an aircraft at first, but once I got a closer look, it turned out to be a jet. And it's coming in pretty fast. Should I contact them with a warning?"
"Easy, cadet. They could be a guest. Just describe what it looks like so I can confirm with the boss."
"…uhh… I don't know if you'll believe me sir."
"Just spit it out."
"It… it looks like a giant white dragon."
Longest chapter yet folks.
(1) I was able to explain Pacifica's outfit cause I knew what it looked like, but as you can tell throughout this chapter, I'm no fashion expert. The best I can say is that it's a very gothic metal dress. Definitely something Sam would enjoy.
Also: PACKERS! PACKERS WON THE SUPER BOWL! (If you know where that's from, kudos)
I'm thinking I'll put this story on Archive of our Own once all the crossover guests are introduced. Considering that's only one more chapter, you can expect it soon. I'm mostly doing it because it might benefit more with AO3's tag system. I'll still update it here, it'll just be in two places at once.
For now, let's talk about the Phantom continuity. And yes, Season 3 of DP has affected it. But not too much. Unlike Omniverse, I merely think the final season was slightly troubled, more than a grand mistake. It's alright, but there were bad and/or questionable decisions. Well, except for Phantom Planet. That was just a straight up mess.
So here's how it goes: Season 3 mostly went down the same (except for phantom planet; honestly, who doesn't exclude the DP finale in fanfiction?). However, one major difference is that instead of erasing the memory of everyone in S2 finale, Danny erased everyone's BUT his parents. So yeah, they know. Secondly, despite leaving out the S3 finale, Danny and Sam have still gotten together. Their relationship is fine, it just didn't need to be stretched out like it was in S3.
Our final guest is coming. It's probably obvious who he is now though… oh well.