#in other words vlad badly paints

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 6

@pocketramblr another :)

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Shouta trudged back to the staff break room. His counseling session with Midoriya had lasted a little over an hour, so while there were still teachers in the building, many of them had left. With the exception of semi-retired heroes like Recovery Girl, everyone working here had two full time jobs. Hizashi, despite his carefree air, had even more than that in the form of his radio show. Hizashi had probably left with the students.

But Hizashi wasn't either of the ones he wanted to talk to. Not today.

He opened the door. Three, no, four teachers were there, but Snipe didn't count, seeing as he was completely passed out on one of the couches with his gas mask half off. He must have had an early shift patrol today, poor sucker.

Nemuri was there, too, with most of her hero outfit on. She was applying her hero-grade makeup (water proof, resistant to three common contact poisons, and guaranteed not to react badly with mace).

More importantly, Kan and Yagi were both there, poring over papers on the same desk, no less. Shouta walked up to the table and looked down at sheets and sheets full of incomprehensible numbers.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"We-"

'Don't tell him!" said Kan, urgently. "This is going to be my class's leg up on Aizawa this time around."

"Haha! Good one!" Yagi slapped Kan's back, and apparently even in his skeletal form he could pack a punch, because Kan had the air knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Yagi continued, "I'm making personalized nutrition plans for his class!"

"What?"

"One of my undergraduate degrees was in nutritional and health sciences, after all!"

Wow, there was a lot to unpack there, but Shouta was more than happy to leave it in its box. He had other fish to fry and topics to interrogate. Small talk requirement fulfilled, he moved on.

"How well do you know Midoriya?"

Yagi blinked and put down his pencil. "Moderately so? We met about this time last year and have been meeting regularly since then."

So, so much to unpack.

"Why?"

"Ah, he... impressed me, I suppose? He was involved in the bodysnatcher incident last year."

That was an understatement.

"He had a lot of heroic spirit!" continued Yagi. "But... not so much in the, ah, body category. I thought it would be a shame, a waste, really, if he wasn't able to pursue his dream, and a hero school prep course wasn't really in the cards for him, considering his quirk status and the timing... And I did have this degree..." He waved his hands vaguely at the table. "I just gave him a little help."

"What brought all this on, anyway?" asked Nemuri. "Midoriya is the little green haired kid, right? One of Chibiida's new friends?"

"If you keep calling him that, I won't be held responsible for when he snaps and attempts murder. But, yes, that's Midoriya."

"So...?"

"He told me I was the best teacher he'd ever had."

Nemuri started laughing.

"Oh," said Yagi. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along so well."

"I think he's pulling your leg, Shouta," said Nemuri, coming over to pat him on his shoulder. "Man, I didn't think a friend of Chibiida's would have it in him. Such youth!"

"I cannot even begin to tell you how much he wasn't."

Nemuri's laughter died off.

"Judging from some comments he made today," said Shouta, "not to mention the discrepancies between his record and his observed behavior in the classroom, I'd say he's been the target of severe quirkism in the past, particularly from his teachers. Did he ever mention anything like that to you?"

Yagi's face darkened and the mood in the room grew much more somber. "Not in so many words, no. However... some of his comments about his teachers disturbed me enough to bring it to the attention of the Musutafu Educational Services District, but as an unrelated stranger without concrete proof..."

("You can use the acronym, you know," muttered Vlad.)

"You're telling me they ignored the number one hero."

Yagi made a face. "I didn't go to them as All Might. Can you imagine the media frenzy if I did that? I didn't want to paint that kind of target on young Midoriya's back."

That was fair, actually. If largely-anonymous Shouta had enemies, All Might had ten times as many. Not to mention supposed fans.

"Other avenues of inquiry were also fruitless," said All Might, countenance darkening. "I asked some of my police colleagues, but they don't have full discretion over the direction of their investigations, and, again, if I were to use my weight to move them... It would get out, and people would wonder why I was so concerned with an apparently normal middle school."

"Did you try talking to Nezu about it?"

"No? Why?"

Shouta reminded himself that although Yagi was an alumnus, he was also very new as a teacher, and was as of yet unfamiliar with Nezu's more interesting traits.

"I'm going to," said Shouta, "and you're going to come with me." He turned to Kan. "Have you heard anything from Bakugo about quirk discrimination?"

"All I've heard from him are explosions, threats, and some kind of complex I don't have nearly enough psychiatric training to- They're from the same school," he realized.

"Yeah."

Kan pinched his brow. "So, the sweet shy kid you keep gushing about-" Both Shouta and Yagi attempted to reassure Kan they weren't gushing, "-and the demon brat are from the same school."

"That is what their records say," agreed Shouta. "Did you know, Yagi?"

"Oh, that they knew each other? Yes. Actually, I was rather under the impression they were childhood friends, as Midoriya ran out to help him during the bodysnatcher incident."

Shouta grunted. It was possible. He hadn't seen the two of them interact, at any rate.

"I'm going to Nezu with you," said Kan, standing up. "No matter what else this hell school did, they deserve to suffer for inflicting Bakugo Katsuki on me with those recommendations full of lies."

"Why don't you just expell him if he's that bad?"

"Because he's talented, hardworking, and hasn't actually broken any rules except for the swearing. He's just a pain I wasn't prepared to deal with and will probably contribute more to my hearing loss than Yamada by the end of the year."

"Wait, wait," said Yagi. "What exactly are you expecting Nezu to do in this situation?"

"Well," said Nemuri, who still hadn't left yet, "let's just say there's a reason hid name is 'god' in the staff group chat."

.

Terrible did not even begin to describe how Izuku felt when he woke up. His skin was static. His mouth was dry in a way that hurt. It felt like a siren was going off in his brain, and also like it was too quiet. He wanted to both run all the way to the school and hide in his closet.

This, of course, left him paralyzed in bed.

He hadn't felt remotely like this since the first time someone had left spider lilies on his desk at school. What was wrong with him?

No, that was the wrong question. All signs pointed to him having Danger Sense. He was in danger. And also immobile in bed.

With a great deal of effort, he turned to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. The clock in the corner read 4:42. Far too early to call anyone. And yet...

With shaky fingers, he navigated to Mr. Yagi's contact information and pressed dial. To Izuku's surprise, it only rang once.

"Young Midoriya? Is something wrong?"

The sound of his voice loosened the terrible knot under Izuku's breastbone. "I- May-maybe? I don't- I don't know, I think so."

There were sounds of movement on the other side of the line. "What happened?"

"I just- just woke up, and I- I think it's Danger Sense. It- Something bad is going to happen."

"I'm on my way. Is your mother with you?"

"N-no. She's at a- at a tech conference in Tokyo. She won't be back until- until tomorrow. Mr. Yagi, I don't- I don't think it's something here. I think it's later... at the school."

There was a pause. "My boy, are you quite sure?"

Izuku's laugh was just a little hysterical. "I mean, I'm- I'm pretty new to this, but..." he'd like to think his flight or fight reflex would have a more constructive response to am immediate threat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you up, I should have waited-"

"Nonsense! Forewarned is forearmed, and time is one of the most valuable resources a hero can have! I'm still picking you up, I'll just-" Mr. Yagi coughed, "-take the car instead."

"The car? You mean Hercules!?" The excitement was enough to free Izuku from his paralysis and propel him into a sitting position.

"Well, yes, but, my boy, how did you know? I don't think I've ever mentioned the name in my interviews..."

"But you did! In one of your American interviews. It was for a local station and you and Mr. Shield were on together."

"But those were in English."

"I know! When I found out about them, it really motivated me to work on my English! I think I could probably pass the Level Two fluency test..."

"Young Midoriya, have I ever told you how glad I am that you aren't a villain?"

.

"Hikage, did Danger Sense ever make you feel this bad?" asked Nana as Yoichi fussed in the background.

"Super Anxiety made me feel this bad all the time. Sometimes, it made me feel worse. I got used to it."

Nana let out a sigh of relief. It sucked to Ninth right now, but if it was normal for the quirk...

"That's good, then," said En. "Not for Ninth, obviously, but if that's just how the quirk works, he'll be able to figure it out. What did it usually mean, when you felt like this?"

"Generally, that someone was planning on killing me in the next few hours."

Dead(er than usual) silence.

"Ah," said En.

"You know," said Nana, "sometimes the kinds of lives we led slips my mind, but then the universe is always real happy to turn around and slap it back into me."

Yoichi started screeching.

.

"Do you feel any worse now that we're here?" asked Mr. Yagi after shutting Hercules down.

"Not really," said Izuku. He slumped down in his seat and looked away. "I'm sorry, I dragged you out of bed and this is probably just a stupid pointless meaningless panic attack..." He felt tears begin to prick at the edges of his eyes. He was so stupid. And selfish. All Might could be out helping people right now. Or taking care of himself (which, according to Recovery Girl's comments during their training sessions, he didn't do nearly enough of).

"Hey, hey, there's no need to cry, it's alright."

"Because you're here?" asked Izuku with a sniffle.

"Well, yes, but also, even if it was 'just' a panic attack, I'd still want to be here for you." He reached across the central console to pat Izuku on the shoulder. Then his face twisted into something rather sheepish. "But on the subject of panic attacks, something did occur to me on the way here."

Izuku looked back down at his knees. "What is it?"

"This is the anniversary of the day we met."

Izuku... had known that, actually. Waking up as he had had driven it from his mind, but the date was marked on his calendar. He'd even gotten All Might a gift, although he hadn't yet talked himself into being brave enough to give it to him, and with what happened today, it would most likely languish in his desk drawer for an indefinite period of time as the idea of giving it became progressively more awkward.

"My boy? I can't quite make out what you're saying. You're mumbling."

Izuku clapped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright. I'm just an old man with hearing problems."

"You're not old! It's... I just- I just don't see how- how that's connected to this." He gestured at himself in all his vaguely-trembling glory.

"Young Midoriya... you almost died three separate times that day. That's traumatic. And sometimes anniversaries are... reminders."

"I only almost died once?"

"The first time with the sludge villain, grabbing on to my leg- and I don't think I ever apologized for telling you to let go, I was just so surprised- and then the sludge villain again."

"But I only almost died the first time..." He trailed off as Mr. Yagi gave him a look. He'd thought his mother was the only one who could give looks like that... "Do you really think this is connected to that?"

"I don't know," said Mr. Yagi. "Do you feel like it might be?"

"I don't know," said Izuku. He bent over and knotted his fingers in his hair.

"Do you think it might help to stay home today?"

"No!" yelped Izuku. "No," he repeated, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Alright, alright. Never fear, my boy." Mr. Yagi gave him another steadying shoulder pat. "In that case, let's go into this with the assumption that this is danger sense, and it is attempting to warn you of a real threat."

"Okay," said Izuku. He rubbed at his eyes. "What do we do first?"

Mr. Yagi tensed and looked up at the top floors of UA. "Well..."

.

"Hm!" said Nezu. "That is something of a conundrum! The extent of your quirk is unclear, and it is not properly registered, so we cannot go through the official routes we normally would for a warning given through a precognitive or clairvoyant quirk, even given that we are aware of One for All and the probable nature of Danger Sense."

Nezu knowing about One for All had been a bit of a surprise. In retrospect, maybe it shouldn't have been. All Might would have had to tell Nezu something so that Izuku was allowed on campus before he was really a student, and seeing as how All Might was originally teaching here to find a successor... well, it made sense. Izuku just wished he'd been told.

How many other people knew was a question for later, however.

"Your inexperience with the quirk and other circumstances further complicates the matter."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"Whatever for? It isn't your fault." Nezu did not wait for an answer. "Then there is yesterday's incident to consider... You say you felt something with the reporters?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Hm. Yes. Toshinori, I so believe you have a contact who could clear this up much more efficiently."

"I know," said Mr. Yagi. "He isn't picking up his phone."

"You don't think-?" started Izuku.

"No, no, he just hasn't been speaking to me lately."

"Oh? I was under the impression you had been communicating with him regularly since returning to Musutafu."

"He thought I would change my mind about something I didn't change my mind about, apparently. It doesn't matter. What else can we do?"

"A good number of things, luckily. Midoriya, I am going to make a series of phone calls. I would like you to tell me if the sensation you are experiencing changes at all while I make them."

"Yes, sir."

Nezu began methodically going through Izuku's list of teachers, warning them that something 'like yesterday' might happened and going over lesson plans and safety procedures. Nothing really changed. Until Nezu called Thirteen.

(Oh, gosh, they were going to go to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint on a field trip today? That was so cool!)

But after Nezu talked to Thirteen about checking safety systems, a little bit of the tension he'd been holding onto leaked away.

"Interesting," said Nezu. "Perhaps we should reschedule rescue training until-"

Izuku dove for Nezu's garbage bin.

"-or perhaps not," mused Nezu as Izuku expelled the meager contents of his stomach.

It was a good thing he hadn't eaten breakfast.

.

"Hikage," said Banjo. "I'm sorry for calling you a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard with a warped sense of humor if this is what you had to put up with all the time."

"You called me a dead-eyed emotionally stunted bastard?"

"Not to your face, but yes."

"Well. It isn't as if those things aren't all true..."

.

"I'm okay," said Izuku. "That just... felt bad."

"No cancelations in that case," said Nezu as Mr. Yagi hovered.

"Y-yeah. Oh gosh, now I know how Uraraka feels..."

"Perhaps you should stay home-"

"No! I can't! That would be..."

Nezu held up his hands- paws? "It was merely a suggestion. Can I offer you some tea?"

"Yes, please," said Izuku, voice catching uncomfortably on his raw throat.

"I do have a few more calls to make. Do you feel up to staying, or would you prefer to head down to Recovery Girl? Or perhaps even the cafeteria? I imagine you haven't eaten breakfast."

"I'd like to stay."

"Very well." Nezu picked up his phone again. Izuku could just make out the click on the other end when it was picked up. "Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? One thing's for sure! I'm the principal!" There was laughter on the other end of the line. "No, not at all! I am in fact calling for you, Tensei. Or should I say, Ingenium? I'm aware this is last minute, and you were planning on taking the day off- How do I know? It was quite simple, really- but between the break-in yesterday and a tip I received this morning regarding a threat to the school, I would like a few more hands on deck than usual. Why, yes, you can stay with your brother's class. Do try not to tease Shouta too much. He has a reputation to maintain." After a few more pleasantries, Nezu hung up. "Midoriya?"

"I... think that's better? I'm sorry, it's hard to tell what could be the quirk and what's just me feeling bad."

Nezu nodded. "In that case, I do recommend that you head to Recovery Girl's office. My other calls will be similar, and the other heroes will not be with your class."

"Why not?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"Because Midoriya's reaction to the field trip being canceled suggests that the danger may not be limited to himself or his class. Oh! And one more thing. Midoriya, I noticed that you put in some costume alteration requests. Naturally, most of them will not be finished until some time next week, however, some of the support items you mentioned are fairly common. If you have time before the field trip, you should pay a visit to Power Loader."

.

Izuku hadn't expected it, but he did feel much better after eating, despite his continuing sense of impending doom. It was also about half an hour from the beginning of homeroom, so he had the time to go to the support department and check if they had anything he could take.

He hoped they had grappling hooks. Izuku had always wanted a grappling hook.

Mr. Yagi took him most of the way there, but students had started to arrive at this point, and Izuku convinced him to go prepare for classes (and hide in the staff area so that no one would wonder why he, a skeleton man not recognizable as a hero, was at the school). Before too long, Izuku stood in front of a rather sturdy-looking metal door. He hoped this was the right one.

He raised his hand to knock just as something crashed into him. Ah. This was it for sure. The way he would die. The danger he had foreseen.

No. Wait. Never mind. He was fine, just on the ground.

"Oh! There was a person there! You okay?"

"U-um," said Izuku, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I'm fine, just a little startled."

"What're you doing here, anyway?"

"I- I'm here for... support... gear?" He sort of trailed off as he looked up.

It was the intense pink haired girl from the other day. As he watched, her expression changed from one of mild concern to calculating interest.

"Support gear, you say?"

.

Shouta answered his phone as he walked down the hall. "Nezu, I've already done every security check I can think of that'll fit-"

"Not quite why I was calling, although I can see why you would think so. One of your students needs to be rescued from the support department."

Shouta changed direction without missing a beat. "It's Midoriya, isn't it?"

"Why, yes."

"Did you send him down there without warning him?"

"Yes, again. You know me so well!"

Shouta hung up.

[lilaclily00]

Sunsets and Stars

Valerie Gray meets her clone.

(DannyMay 2019 Day 5: Sunset)

This is somewhat a recap of "Kindred Spirits" in the D/V roleswap!AU. Dani's appearance is based off of this post. This is for you, @goinggoblin​ and @pigte​!

AO3 link

Being Phoenix was exhausting. Valerie felt like she could barely function as she trudged home after yet another ghost-troubles-related detention.

“Ugh, I just wanna nap,” she muttered to herself as she came up the stairs and to her bedroom doorway. She dropped her backpack from her shoulders, flicked on the light--and was suddenly wide awake, instinctively crouching into a defensive stance. Someone was on her bed.

“Who are you?” she demanded, eyes narrowed and heart pounding. The figure pulled down the magazine away from her face and Valerie blinked at how... young it was. It was just some girl maybe a couple years younger than her, with big gray-blue eyes and freckles dancing across her bronze skin.

“I’m Danielle,” the girl stated with surprising confidence as she folded down the corner of the page to mark her place. “Do you have something I could eat?”

Valerie reasserted her stance; there wasn’t a real reason yet to let her guard down. “Not unless you tell me why you’re here and how you got into my room.”

Danielle placed the magazine beside her--it was a random copy of Vogue from Valerie’s collection in her closet--and folded her legs under herself. “I walked through the door.” She pulled a grin, which shrank when Valerie didn’t smile back. “I ran away from home, and... well, you’re the closest family I have. Distance-wise.” She sheepishly rubbed at her neck, beneath her black, wavy hair. “We’re, like, third cousins once-removed.”

Valerie inched closer. Third cousins once-removed? Strangely remote relationship and specific. “We don’t know each other. Why would you come to me instead of one of your friends?”

Danielle flinched, and Valerie sighed. Something about that reaction told her what she needed to know--no friends. She loosened her stance, standing up and watching the girl with crossed arms for a few seconds. Danielle watched back, fidgeting under the stare, but she held the gaze.

“Alright,” Valerie finally said, motioning to the door, “let’s go start making dinner.” Danielle’s eyes lit up as she ran back out the room, Valerie following. It would take receiving a few more answers before she could trust this strange girl, but so far, she didn’t seem so bad.

Valerie startled awake at a sound, which was immediately followed by whispered apologies. She fought her grogginess away to focus on Danielle’s face hovering by her blanket-bundled self. The girl was standing next to her, much closer than she anticipated. Valerie scooted back, then sat up. “Ugh, what time is it?”

“Time for you to--eh, that one’s overused.” The younger girl hunched her shoulders up. “Sorry again, didn’t mean to interrupt your nap. I was trying to get over you to look at the sunset.”

Valerie frowned, then turned her attention to the window hanging over her bed. Oranges, pinks, and purples painted the sky outside, tinting wisps of butts and a weaning moon already peeking out. She slowly relaxed into a small smile, even as Danielle messily climbed onto the bed beside her. The girl’s face glowed in the gentle light, her expression filled with childish awe.

“Sometimes I forget how pretty these can be,” Valerie mused aloud.

Danielle began to bob her head, then shook it to disagree instead, beanie nearly falling off. “I just don’t get tired of them. I can’t. It’s like the sky is on fire! But in a good way!”

“Hey, I’ve thought the same thing!” The girls looked back to each other, considering each other, twin grins on their faces.

Danielle was the first to turn back to the window. “Would you get mad at me if I stayed up to look at the stars too?”

Vlad’s ugly blue face leered at her with triumph. “Good afternoon, dear girl.”

Valerie snarled at him, then her gaze diverted to the computer screens behind him, playing clips of her transforming. Her glare renewed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you are intelligent, just like myself.” Vlad swished his cape behind him as he turned to type commands into the computer.

Valerie wished so, so badly she was not trapped so thoroughly so she could sock him for that comment alone. “I am not like you, you psychopath!”

“Oh, I do believe we’re alike, not just with our shared powers.” He stood straight in the air, chest puffed out, as he watched the computer do some analyses on the video clips. “You also keep using that word, but I don’t believe it means what you think it means.” He floated back over to her. “You say it as if it is synonymous with ‘crazed villain’. I am neither a psychopath or a crazed villain. All I ever wanted was happiness.”

“At the expense of everyone else’s,” she spat, but he paid her no heed, instead merely pressing a button on the wall. A chamber to the side began to open, hissing with released pressure.

“Yet you and the Fentons refuse to let that happen. Maddie and Daniel will not become a family with me, and you have denied my offer to become my apprentice time and time again. You have all forced my hand to get what I want in a different way.”

Her jaw dropped as she watched the chamber reveal a replica of... herself, her ghostly half, limp and connected to tubes.

Vlad continued, “The good clone is the product of many months’ work, and is close to completion--it is almost ready to accept your DNA.”

Valerie’s brain hurt with how fast it was moving. This was far beyond espionage and sabotage and even outright obsession. He had been creating clones of her--presumably to have a half-ghost child and apprentice of his own. “So those ghosts--”

He apathetically watched one of those very ghosts from earlier that day drift to his side, long white hair and red boots dripping ectoplasm. “Yes, the bad clones, the failures.”

She thought back to Danielle--and her betrayal. Calling Vlad her father. A stone settled in her stomach. “Is Danielle one of them?”

Vlad narrowed his eyes at her for a second. “She’s actually my most successful yet. I had thought the problem was the instability of your DNA, and added another person’s DNA to help, which worked, but not quite enough.” Alarm bells rang in her head, but he didn’t give her a chance to think on that more. “Turns out what I really need is a mid-morph sample from you.”

“And you think I’ll just give that to you?!” Valerie screeched, struggling in her trap.

“I wish you would, but alas,” Vlad sighed, snapping his fingers, prompting one of the clones to action, “that is an unrealistic expectation.”

She heard nothing after that except for her own screams.

“I know you can’t beat me,” Danielle declared, squeezing her fists tight at her sides. Her white, curly ponytail floated and her eyes glowed green.

Valerie slowly worked at standing up, lightheaded and trembling. “You’re right, but I’m not going to fight you. It’ll hurt you more than me.”

“You heard him, I’m the most stable clone!” Danielle began forming an ecto-blast, then stopped as she realized her body wasn’t handling it anymore--ectoplasm bubbled off her feet. She bit her lip, then said, “If you don’t give him your morph DNA, then I’ll always be like this. He needs it to save me!”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s true.” Valerie had successfully stood all the way up, keeping her distance, tired eyes set on the smaller girl. “He said you’re the best one yet, but he also said you’re not good enough. He’s using you, just like he’s using Danny and so many other people.”

She suddenly remembered why Danielle looked so different compared to the other clones. She had DNA from someone else, too, and it really wasn’t terribly hard to guess who on her name alone. Vlad’s ability to do messed-up things was truly unprecedented.

“You--you’re lying!” Danielle shot at her, horror setting into her eyes. Valerie had just barely managed to put up a feeble shield, yet she still got knocked back a foot. Determination settled back into the younger girl. “He cares about me too much.”

“He doesn’t care about anyone, not really. He doesn’t know what real love is!” Valerie’s chest ached, not just physically, and before she knew it, she was shouting. “Look at me--look at this situation! Look at what he’s done! I’m only fourteen!” She looked into Danielle’s acid green eyes, nothing like her own, yet strangely reminiscent of the girl’s namesake. “Danny’s only fourteen, too, and--and he claims to love Danny as a son, then goes and creates you out of him? What do you call that?”

Danielle stepped back, doubt making her every move difficult. Valerie regretted her words a little; she didn’t want to watch the girl go through so much pain. Finally, in a small voice, Danielle said, “It feels like he just bosses me around, and... he’s cruel to the other clones.”

Valerie hesitantly walked towards her. Her clone gave no indication that she intended to fight anymore. “I don’t want him to start being cruel to you, too. I know it’d be hard to leave, but anything’s better than staying with Vlad.”

“Where would I even go, though?” she whined, holding her head in her hands.

“I think our bigger priority right now is just getting out of this mansion, but... well, we are family,” Valerie began, amazed by the words coming out of her mouth. She’d become incredibly attached to the girl, even thought it’d only been one day. “We’ll figure it out.”

Danielle gaped at her, hope shining through, and Valerie just had to hug her. The girls melted into their embrace. The moment was brief, though, as they remembered where they were, and both looked down to the floor, as if gazing straight into the basement.

“We need to destroy the equipment, don’t we?” Danielle stated.

Valerie added, “And beat up Vlad.” She breathed into her nonexistent lungs, then back out. She already felt a little better than just a few minutes ago. Ghostly healing really was something else. “But just enough to do the job; I don’t think either of us have the strength for more than that.”

“Deal.” Danielle grinned at Valerie, and Valerie grinned back before both went intangible and flew down through the floor--together.

Danielle disappeared right after the fight, and Valerie agonized over whether to go looking for her or head home. She ultimately picked the latter, flying out before Vlad got to recover. Danielle had still been in... okay condition, at the last sighting, and she knew where Valerie lived, if she planned to go back there as well.

Valerie sat on the roof of her house that same night, watching the sky fade from orange to black, when Danielle made her appearance, popping into visibility right next to her. “Dang it, the sunset’s almost over.”

The elder girl didn’t even flinch. Instead, she gnawed on her lip, picking her words. “Were... you thinking of staying here?”

Danielle curled herself up into a ball. “No, I think I shouldn’t. I don’t want to make you or your dad take care of me.”

Valerie’s eyes widened. “You’d rather be out there all on your own?”

“Well, like you said, it’s better than being with my father--uh, Vlad, still.” The girl shrugged a little to herself, hugging her knees closer to herself. “And I know I’m not all alone. I still have a friend.”

Valerie scooched over to wrap her arm around Danielle. She could see her point--if she were in the same situation, she’d be sick of people pretending to be parents, too, even if their intentions were good. She wasn’t sure her house would be the best setting for Danielle, anyway, if both of them were going to be hiding so many secrets from her dad. She still didn’t like the idea, but maybe she could trust that her clone would be okay out there, and find someone she was comfortable living with when she was ready for that.

“So I take it you came to say bye?” Valerie asked, eyes focused on the fading sunlight.

“Yeah, but I wanted to watch the sky a little longer first.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

The stars slowly appeared, and Danielle vanished once again.

[intergalacticrp]

NAME :// ANYA PETROV ORIGIN :// ANASTASIA AGE :// TWENTY-FIVE JOB :// LOADER FOR CARGO SHIP 57 FC :// CHRISTY ALTOMARE

Why's there always gotta be a hero?         What if Cinderella had to save herself?                 It's not like we don't need a little help                         But maybe it's a good thing to go through little hell

BIOGRAPHY ://

TO BE WRITTEN BY PLAYER // WILL BE INSERTED ONCE WRITTEN

AESTHETIC ://

lost princess. an old fashioned train. clues found in dreams. dancing bears, painted wings. flashes of fire, the echo of screams. a music box. someday it will all come back to you. red hair against white snow. dreams of another life. amnesia. everything you own in one suitcase. there’s no place like home. what’s a home? lost girl. catching snowflakes on your tongue. city lights in her eyes. a single rose. once upon a december.

MISC ://

Anya can’t remember anything before the age of eight. She was found cold and unconscious in the snow alongside a road with a severe case of amnesia triggered by a concussion. Without a name, officials had no way to identify her and contact her family. Even with a name, Zarinsk was in the middle of a revolution - New Petersburg at the center of it all - and they had more important things to take care of than one little girl who had no idea who she was.

They gave her the name Anya Petrov and sent her off to one of the many orphanages on the planet. The only clue she had to her past was a necklace she’d been wearing when found. In tiny writing on the back are the words ‘Yen Sid,’ which she later learned was the name of a very wealthy man who owned an asteroid in another district.

At night Anya has strange dreams that feel more like memories than creations of her imagination. Some terrify her more than others. But they can’t be real…. Right?

She was determined to leave Zarinsk as soon as she turned 18, but she didn’t have any money nor the cunning to either pay or sneak her way off the planet. She worked odd jobs for years until she ran into two men who headed to the same place she so badly wished to go. Vlad took pity on her situation and persuaded Dimitri to take her with them to the YSWPO - at least, that’s what Anya believes happened.

CONNECTION ://

dimitri antonov : brought her to the yswpo. very difficult to figure out. annoying, to say the least. vladimir vanya vonitsky vasilovich : dimitri’s partner. very kind. the mediator between she and dimitri. merida dunbroch : new friend. like minded. amelia frontier : captain of the cargo ship she works on.

AVAILABILITY :// OPEN || TAKEN BY ████████

[five-rivers]

Hey, there.   I’m still working on this!  Again, I am using @charcoalhawk and @thecommrade ‘s prompts!

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Collateral

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Chapter 4

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Youngblood was bored.  Super bored.  Mega bored.  Ginormously bored. Bored to infinity.  So bored that even Bones couldn't un-bore him. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.  He didn't like being bored.  

So he decided to go bother Phantom.  

Phantom was a lot older than him (or a lot younger than him, depending on how he counted), and could be kind of weird sometimes (though Youngblood understood that was because he was a halfa, and therefore kind of sick, like Youngblood used to be), but he was good for a game or two, or a laugh, or a straight-up fight.  It really depended on how polite Youngblood was feeling, and how patient Phantom was feeling.  Or, from another angle, how bratty Youngblood was, and how territorial Phantom was.  No matter which way it played out, Phantom was never boring.  Unlike some people.  

Youngblood flew to Phantom's portal, giggling madly, already planning out his next game.  Giggling madly.  Like a mad scientist.  Ooh, that was a good idea.  He could be a mad scientist and Bones could be Frankenstein!  Or maybe Bones would be Igor, and they could make a Frankenstein!

“Hey, Bones, do you think you're more a Frankenstein or an Igor?”

Bones sighed, already shifting into a bony hunchback.  “I assume you're speaking of Frakenstein's monster, so I would have to say Igor, master.”

“Isn't Frankenstein the monster?”

“No, Frankenstein was the scientist, master.  The monster wasn't named.”

“Well, that's stupid,” complained Youngblood.  “Why didn't anyone ever name him?  He was the coolest ever!  Or he should have named himself, like ghosts do!”

“That's part of the book,” started Bones.  

“The book!?  Boring!”  

They had reached the portal.  Phantom's portal itself wasn't safe to go through.  His parents had sealed it tight, and had stuck a lot of guns and junk onto it.  Not to mention the house itself.  On the other hand, smaller, temporary, natural portals to Amity Park spawned near it literally all the time.  Bones and Youngblood didn't have to wait long for one to appear.

“Maybe I won't be a mad scientist,” said Youngblood, after they had gone through.  “Maybe I'll paint on the walls.  I always wanted to be an artist, you know.”  Youngblood had always wanted to be lots of things.  He vaguely remembered wanting to be a dinosaur when he grew up, but growing up was for losers.  “But the adults didn't recognize my genius.  Whenever I drew they were all like 'oh, no, you can't draw on the walls!'”

“I see,” said Bones, returning to his favorite parrot shape.  

Two cans of spray paint popped into Youngblood's hands, his outfit transmuting into a childish image of an artist, complete with a beret.  A too-wide, too sharp smile spread over Youngblood's face. He couldn't wait until Phantom showed up, so that he could spray the teenager in the face.  He could just imagine the look on Phantom's face.  It would be hilarious.  

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Two hours later, and Phantom still hadn't shown up.  Neither had his weirdo parents, or his friends.  Which was weird, and also bleh. Boring.  He'd entertained himself with painting for a while, and with avoiding the coppers, who couldn't see him, and that red girl with the hoverboard who also couldn't see him even though she was obviously a teenager, but those games had limited utility.  

He wanted to play with Phantom.  That's why he had come in the first place.  

He floated in the air over a building that was now tastefully decorated in dinosaurs and superheros, pouting.  There had been fewer policemen than there usually were, too, and the red girl had seemed especially upset (and incompetent), now that he thought about it.  His eyes narrowed.  Youngblood might have been immature, but he wasn't stupid.

He floated higher, scanning the town.  

“Hey, Bones, help me find where all the police are.”

“The police?” asked the skeletal parrot.  “Aye aye, captain.”  He spiraled up even further than Youngblood, his circles growing ever wider as Youngblood spun beneath.

“Thar she is!” said Bones.

“You don't have to do that,” said Youngblood, flying in the indicated direction.  “We're not playing pirates right now.”

“If you say so,” said Bones, swooping down alongside Youngblood.  

They reached the part of the town that had the tallest and fanciest buildings.  Police and cameramen were swarming all over them.  There was yellow tape everywhere, especially in front of a stately building with columns.  

It was very exciting.  

But it wasn't terribly informative.  Most of the police officers and detectives were only talking about what was going on right then, about what they were doing, or what they had found.  They weren't talking about what had happened, which was what Youngblood was interested in.  Because this had to be related to why Phantom wasn't showing up.  It didn't look like it had been a ghost fight, at least not a typical one.  There wasn't enough damage, and Youngblood remembered enough about the human world to know that its buildings and structures didn't repair themselves.  In fact, as far as Youngblood could tell, there wasn't any damage at all.  But then, what ghost fight was typical, especially when Phantom was involved?  When was anything involving Phantom typical?  He was a weirdo from a family of weirdos in a town of weirdos.

What a weirdo.

“Perhaps we should listen in on one of the reporters,” suggested Bones.

“What? You think that they'd know something the cops don't?”

“Unlikely, but they will be talking about what they do know.  That's their job, after all.”

“Ooh. Good idea!”

They zoomed over to a nearby reporter, whose crew was just starting to get ready to film.  They waited impatiently.  At least, Youngblood did. He jiggled and bounced and made faces at the reporter.

“Hello!” said the reporter, finally.  “I'm Harriet Chin for Amity News, reporting from the site of the attempted assassination of our own mayor, Vlad Masters by a sniper in one of these buildings.  Mr Masters was not hit, thanks to the swift and heroic actions of Daniel Fenton, who had been receiving a scholarship from Mr Masters at the time.  Mr Fenton, however, was shot, and brought to South Mercy Hospital.  We are currently waiting for word on his condition...”

Youngblood floated off, no longer particularly interested in what the reporter had to say.  No longer wanting to hear what the reporter had to say. She had said the forbidden, most hated word.  Hospital. Youngblood hated hospitals.  He wasn't scared of them, he had spent too much time in them to be scared, but he hated them.  

And Phantom had been sent to one?  He'd been hurt that badly?

Youngblood barred his teeth.  He didn't like that, didn't like the idea of that. But it couldn't be that bad, right?  He had to see.

South Mercy.  He knew where South was, right?

“Come on!” he said, zooming away.  

The hospital, to Youngblood's dismay, was surrounded by minor and not-so-minor ghosts shrouded by low-level invisibility.  Phantom must really be hurt, for them to be acting like this.  There weren't any children among the ghosts that he could see, though, so it wasn't like he could just ask what was going on.  No one would be able to see him, and he wasn't interested in talking to humans right now.  

Flying through the crowd of ghosts was like flying through a sea of whispers.  They were angry.  No, they were furious.  

“Their lord has been wounded,” said Bones, voice low.

“Their lord?” asked Youngblood, curling his lip.  “Phantom's a lord?”

“It's a technical term.  He is the lord, and they are the vassals, although they might call themselves something else.  It's a relationship, not entirely unlike what you and I have.”  Bones settled on Youngblood's shoulder.  “He protects them, lets them stay in his haunt.  There are certain obligations that go along with that, even if Phantom does not demand them.”

“Obligations?”

“Duties, commitments.”

“Heh, you said 'duty.'”

They located the room around which the most ghosts were located, and slipped in.  Phantom was there, in a bed, trapped beneath tubes and wires, just like-

Youngblood fled the hospital.  It wasn't because he was scared.  It wasn't. But he couldn't be there anymore.  He had to leave.  He had to.

He didn't know what to do.  He had to talk to someone about this. Someone other than Bones.  

Ember. He'd talk to Ember.  

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The ghosts of Amity Park swirled around the hospital in a ghostly analogue of human pacing.  There were all kinds of ghosts there. Blobs and will-o-the-wisps.  Ghosts of dogs, cats, birds, tigers, rats, foxes, bats.  Ghosts of men and women.  Ghosts that had been born ghosts, or who had never been born at all.  Little goblins. Pixie people.  Elves and fae things.  Monsters of myth and legend. None of them were particularly strong on their own.  In fact, most of them were on the weak side for ghosts.  Even the very strongest was only on par with the Box Ghost.  Many of them struggled to make themselves seen or felt by humans.  That's why they had sought protection from Phantom in the first place, why they chose to reside in Amity Park.

But that wasn't why they loved him.  They loved him because he cared. Because he loved them first.  Because he deserved it.  Because he was precious, and soft, and lovely.  Because he needed love. Because he belonged to them, as much as he belonged to the humans of Amity Park.  

That someone hurt him...  That someone here hurt him...  Hurt him this badly, and not even in a proper fight...

It didn't just make them furious.  It made them incandescent.

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One of Vlad's duplicates glanced out a window, and all of him froze.  

He had known of the other ghosts that called Amity Park home.  Being one of them, how could he not?  He usually paid little attention to them. They were weak.  Nonentities, like the Dairy King, who nonetheless managed to avoid Vlad's attempts to evict him.  Annoyances.  True, Vlad could have put them to use, great use, had they been loyal to him, and he was the most powerful ghost in Amity Park, but they favored Daniel for some incomprehensible reason.  

Well, maybe not so incomprehensible.  Daniel had never understood power, had never bothered to learn how to exert it, how to use it for his benefit.  Daniel never asked anything from them, despite the traditional obligations he was owed.

But just because Daniel didn't ask, didn't mean he didn't receive.  Vlad, unlike Daniel, was very aware of what had happened to the missing GIW agents.  Weak these ghosts might be on their own, but when they acted together...  

Vlad's mouth felt very dry.  Surely, they wouldn't blame him for this.  He had been the intended victim!  He would have stopped this if he had known!

He shook himself.  He had nothing to fear.  Even together, these ghosts wouldn't be able to hurt him.  Still.  

But perhaps...  Perhaps he could use this.  Yes.  The ghosts circling angrily around the hospital were out for blood, yes, but the blood of the ones responsible for Daniel's injury.  Not Vlad's.  Well, as it so happened, Vlad had a bone to pick with the perpetrator himself, and he doubtless had more information than the pathetic specters outside.  

A thin smile spread across his face.