Ghosts did not have obsessions in the way human ecto-scientists meant when they used the term. They did, however, have patterns, ticks in behavior, impulses, habits, that were nigh impossible to break. Carryovers from their lives, or, in many cases, their deaths, impressed upon their thought patterns. Easy paths for them to follow.
In Daniel's case, the pattern was curiosity. More specifically, the indulgence of it.
To be sure, he had made himself into a tutelary, a protective spirit, and the more he followed that narrative, the more he would fit his chosen role. But, like any other person, living or dead, that was not all he was.
Curiosity was what had killed him. Such an event would, naturally, either burn the feeling out of him altogether, or render any other, lesser deterrent meaningless.
If one were to place Daniel, unsupervised, in a room with an interesting object, he would interact with it. Examine it. Touch it. Smell it. Taste it. See if it turned on or off. Not indiscriminately, mind, there were various variables involved, and it was true that thinking beings, when underestimated, tended to seek out simulation, however unpleasant. One might also argue that the environment in which Daniel was raised made him less cognizant of certain risks.
But it was also true that if the object in question looked remotely edible, it would wind up in Daniel's mouth long before hunger could be said to have any impact on his decision making.
As such, Clockwork was very careful when it came to the items he left Daniel alone with.
Over the ages Clockwork had spent as the Observants' solution to everything even remotely inconvenient, he had collected a vast array of cursed objects. It was only right that he should bring them to bear against the latest problem they'd dumped in his lap. On the whole, he thought a series of subtle curses was a much more elegant and ethical solution than assassination.
Letting Daniel walk himself into curses was easy to the point Clockwork almost felt guilty about it.
Almost.
He knew Daniel did not want to become Dan, either, after all, or blunder into any of a number of other bad futures. Needs must.
.
Danny floated into Long Now, Clockwork's lair. He'd been visiting Clockwork regularly ever since the incident. He wasn't sure how that had really happened, but it had, and every time Clockwork seemed pleased to see him.
It was a little strange, but Danny didn't want to question it too deeply.
"Ah, Daniel," said Clockwork, warmly, switching from old man to infant, "I am in the middle of something, but if you can sit there for just a moment…" He nodded to the sitting area.
"Sure!" chirped Danny. He really was just here to hang out. Maybe take a nap. Didn't need to do anything in particular.
He floated over to the couch and let himself drop. He laid there for a few minutes, contemplating his place in the universe. Introspection, however, was boring, and maybe he didn't want to sleep as much as he thought he did. He sat up and looked around instead.
Last time he was here, he'd had a good time checking out all of the statues Clockwork had in this room. They were pretty cool.
But today Danny's attention was arrested by the huge decorative hourglass sitting on Clockwork's coffee table. Ruby red sand floated slowly from the top lobe to the bottom one, twisting and swirling on their path down. He stroked the silvery metal casing with one finger, liking the texture.
It was pretty. A conversation piece? Danny couldn't think of any other reason Clockwork would have it out here. He flipped it over and watched the sand run the other way for a while. There was a lot more sand in one bulb than the other. With how slowly the sand was falling and how big the hourglass was, it'd take forever even to get that little bit.
He flipped the hourglass over again, wondering if the pattern the sand moved in would change at all, then shook it, testing the way gravity behaved on sand in all areas of the glass. He flipped it again. He wanted to see if it would do anything special when the sand ran out, but given the speed it was moving at, even that would probably take years.
"So, Daniel, what have you been up to?"
Danny jumped, but turned to face Clockwork with a smile. "Oh, you know."
"I do," said Clockwork, "but I'd like to hear it from you."
.
Clockwork carefully transferred the hourglass from the table to its case using telekinesis and being very careful not to tip it over. Having gone through the trouble of getting Daniel attuned to it, he didn't want to carelessly break that attunement.
A few hundred years ago, the Observants had cracked down on tools one could use to reduce one's age or extend one's life, but the hourglass was easily the least obvious. Clockwork estimated it would take Daniel nearly a year to notice that he was aging backwards.
It wasn't a complete solution, but if Daniel didn't grow up, he wouldn't grow up into that.
.
Danny spun the top edge of… it looked a bit like an ancient rubix cube. The metal squares had symbols instead of paint, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out the internal mechanism. Then again, he didn't know what the internal mechanism for a regular rubix cube was, either. He should take one apart when he gets home. It'd be fun.
But it'd be even more fun if he could compare it to the mechanism in this one.
The last row of symbols clicked into place, and all the sides were made of the same symbols. Danny spent a few seconds admiring his work. He'd never managed to solve one of these before.
The cube fell apart. Danny yelped, propelling himself over the back of the couch then peaking over the top of it. It was just cubes. Little dice. No internal mechanism at all. Huh.
"Don't worry," said Clockwork, "it's supposed to do that."
Danny nodded and put himself on the couch again. He prodded one of the dice, half worried that it would fall apart, too. It didn't. It simply rolled over to a new symbol.
His fingers felt… tingly. He flexed his hands. If Clockwork said it was supposed to be like that…
"How do I put it back together?"
.
Putting a limit on Daniel's powers was a must. If he wasn't strong enough to destroy the world, then he couldn't do it.
The Box of Spes existed to seal 'troubles.' Pandora had made it long ago. In this particular case, the troubles were Daniel's powers, neatly bound with each piece he put back into place, the potential curtailed.
Most of them were powers Daniel hadn't even touched yet, or that he had only used once, and Daniel was notoriously forgetful about his powers. He would do just fine without the stranger, more dangerous ones.
But if he did ever need to reach further, all Clockwork needed to do was open the box.
.
Danny eyed the goblet Clockwork had put down… Was it twenty minutes ago, now? It was a pretty metal goblet. Silvery black. Fruit and chain designs sculpted into it. Filled almost to the brim with purplish-red juice.
Danny licked his lips. He was… curious. He'd never seen Clockwork eating or drinking anything before, and he wanted to know what it tasted like, what it was. It smelled tasty. Sweet.
He wanted it, but he knew that drinking someone else's drink was the absolute peak of rudeness, so he was not going to do that.
He was also wondering what Clockwork was doing that was taking so long, but he'd learned better than to go looking for Clockwork after last time. At least, he thought he had. He definitely still wanted to know… Just, he didn't want to walk in on anything like that again… That had just been weird.
So. He waited. And waited some more. And (inside his head only) wished he'd brought a book. Or a rubix cube. He'd taken one apart and solving them was a lot easier now…
Waiting. More waiting.
He really wanted to know what it tasted like.
A tiny sip wouldn't hurt.
He slid over to the goblet and picked it up. If it was wine he'd be so mad at himself. Cautiously, he sipped at it.
It wasn't wine. It tasted a lot like cranberry juice. A little bitter, but also sweet. It was nice.
He carefully put it back down on the table. Because he definitely hadn't done that. Nope.
… But then, Danny had never been successful at keeping things from Clockwork.
Actually, Clockwork probably already knew.
Ugh. Danny really had to work on his impulse control.
.
Pomegranates were a traditional medium for curses in the Ghost Zone, but the addition of the Stygian Goblet would make the natural effects of them much worse. Protective spirits were especially vulnerable to them. They wanted them, on some level. Wanted that security.
Bindings. Tethers. Chains. Like the ones that brought Persephone back to the underworld every winter.
For now, the one linking Daniel to Long Now was weak. But Clockwork could make it stronger… or shorter… as needed. Reel him in. Keep him close. Keep him out of the way. Keep him safe.
And bring him in when Clockwork needed to add another layer to the curses.
Yes. It really was almost too easy to curse Daniel.
But it was the way things were meant to be.