Anarchy exchanges words with the local Phantom.
Amity Park, Anarchy reflected, was a strange place. Putting aside the eye-assaulting architecture that was Fenton Works, all the buildings had a strange purple tint to them. If he didn't know better, he would think the Ghost Zone was leaking out into the real world.
The Archetype was coasting, invisible for the time being. He wanted a look around before risking any confrontations. His disguise was good, but in the end it was just that: a disguise. Going intangible was not part of his powerset, and the last thing he wanted was to catch an ectoblast to the face.
. . . It was really weird being on the low end of the power scale for once.
Roughly an hour later, the Archetype landed on the roof of a tall building downtown. He had a decent sense of the town now - enough to keep any quirks in the layout from blindsiding him if he had to beat a hasty retreat. Anarchy slipped back into the realm of visibility, raising the hood of a short, dark cloak. The top half of his face vanished in shadow. Aside from a slight smile, the only hint of his features remaining was the faint green glow of his eyes.
If he was going to impersonate a ghost, he was going to be a theatrical one. Dramatics were fun.
~o0o~
He wasn't surprised it was a ghost that found him first. He was a little surprised it had taken so long. Eventually, though, the Archetype found himself suddenly face-to-face with a floating, white-haired teen.
He didn't look happy.
"All right, I've had a really crappy day, so why don't you tell me who you are and what you're doing before I dump you back in the Ghost Zone with all the other troublemakers?"
Anarchy blinked. "Well, hello to you too. I'm doing great, thanks for asking."
The ghost scowled. "Like I said. Really. Crappy. Day." Green energy gathered around his fists. "So unless you want to be stress relief, I suggest you answer my questions!"
The Archetype gave him a flat stare. "Anarchy. Exploration. Are you always so antagonistic?"
"Huh?" For a second, the ghost looked taken aback. "Hey, it's usually you guys attacking me first!"
"I haven't moved in an hour."
"Yeah, well - ghosts hate me, okay? You tend to assume the worst when half the population's trying to put your face through the pavement."
Anarchy tilted his head to the side, examining the glowing, floating, non-human figure. "Ghosts hate you?" He shook his head. "Nevermind. I'm not here to break anything. Except physics."
"Really," the ghost deadpanned. "Then I guess you won't mind if I come along and make sure of that."
Anarchy shrugged. "Suit yourself. Can I at least get the name of my escort?"
The ghost narrowed his eyes, then sighed. "Danny Phantom."
"Charmed," the Archetype said. It was only a little sarcastic. He kicked off the roof, rising to match the other's height. "Phantom, then." Anarchy flashed a smirk usually reserved for escapades in thieving. "Hope you can keep up!"