On Obsession and Free Will 4
The fourth chapter of this fic! Written for Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 12: Obsession.
Warning for loss of agency.
Danny woke with a slow, syrupy kind of comfort. He felt nicely weighted down. He blinked his eyes open. That would probably be because of the thick blanket draped over him.
“Clockwork?” he called.
“I am here. Stay where you are.”
“Mhm,” said Danny. Not a difficult instruction to follow. It draped over him in much the same way as the blanked.
Clockwork loomed into his field of view, red eyes bright in the shadow of his hood. “How do you feel?”
“Heavy,” said Danny. “Tired. My right shoulder feels kind of bruised, and so do my ribs. I think I still have a bunch of scratches from Dan. I feel… Good? Happy? Comfortable?” He blinked a little at how thorough he’d been. But why wouldn’t he be thorough when Clockwork asked him a question?
“Good,” said Clockwork.
A sense of pleasure suffused Danny. Clockwork said he did good! Or that his current state was good. Danny wasn’t sure.
“You took care of me,” said Danny. It made his thoughts feel bubbly with happiness.
“I did. You sound surprised.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t,” confessed Danny. “After you had what you wanted.”
“I see,” said Clockwork. “Tell me, can you think of any circumstances where you would not obey me?”
Danny’s eyes fell halfway closed. He could feel the walls of the box Clockwork had made of his Obsession. They were firm, the joints and corners rounded. He could push against them and feel them push back, an even pressure on his mental body. He was not locked in so much as welded in, every escape closed, the box unopenable without the kind of force that would break the contents.
He wondered if, as he grew more used to them, the walls would recede from his awareness.
“If I didn’t understand what you wanted,” said Danny. “Or if I couldn’t do it. Or if you told me not to beforehand.”
“What if you interpreted my orders as being given under duress?”
“Like, someone was forcing you?” Danny frowned. “Can someone force you?”
“Perhaps,” said Clockwork. “For the sake of this question and your answer, assume that it is so.”
“Well,” said Danny, feeling like he was trying to follow a line of thought made of razor wire, “I guess… if you were being forced, it wasn’t something you wanted to say? So, I… I’d base what I was doing on what you’ve told me before and the surrounding context.” The box felt very small right now, but he was still inside it. The walls pulsed comfortably around his swollen thoughts.
Clockwork smiled faintly and patted Danny on the head. “Excellent,” he said. “Please get up and follow me.”
Danny wriggled out of his blanket and stood, unsteady, taking in the room for the first time. It was a bedroom. Nothing fancy, but obviously arranged for the maximum physical comfort of its inhabitant, for all that the walls were made of interlocking metal gears behind glass etched with patterns that put Danny in mind of antique clocks. Everything was draped in dark, silver-flecked fabric, or piled with cushions. There were bedside tables, and a desk in one corner, but they were oddly rounded, made of clockwork metal and wood, but covered in a thick layer of rounded glass. The light in the room was diffuse, and seemed to emanate from somewhere near the ceiling, but Danny couldn’t find the source.
Overall, it put him oddly in mind of the mental image of the box around him, his thoughts, and his actions.
“Is this your bedroom?” asked Danny.
“No,” said Clockwork. “It is yours. Do you like it?”
“Yes,” said Danny. “It seems comfortable.”
“Good. You will be spending time here, in the future.” Clockwork turned away, to a wall, and drew back a dark curtain to reveal the outline of a door. There was no handle that Danny could see, but the gears in the wall rotated, moving a bar and a counterweight, and the door swung open on its own.
Outside, the hall - if he could call it that - was similar, but the walls weren’t covered with glass. There was only a little of the stonework Danny usually associated with Long Now, and he got the distinct impression that this was the lair itself revealing some truth about itself to him.
They came to a wider space, where at least the floor was covered by another, continuous material. The room was filled with cabinets, shelves, and long tables. Worktables, Danny thought, seeing the tools and small objects that rested on them. The workspace was, overall, much neater than his parents’ lab, back home.
"We are going to run through some exercises to help you settle, before you return to Amity Park."
Danny nodded, grateful that he would be allowed to return. Although he had tried not to dwell on it too much, he'd been aware that was a distinct possibility.
On the other hand… "What do you mean, 'settle?'" he asked as he followed Clockwork to one of the benches, where a clock case and inner workings had been neatly laid out.
“You have just gone through a major change,” said Clockwork. “It will take some time before you become used to it.”
“It’s good, though,” said Danny. “I like it. I wanted it.”
“Even so,” said Clockwork. “Do you not feel weaker, less steady than you usually are?”
“I…” Danny hesitated, thinking. “Yes.”
Clockwork nodded slowly. “That is only to be expected. Even good changes can cause stress and strain. You must be settled, before any other alterations can be made. Sit.”
Danny took the indicated seat, across the table from Clockwork. “You’re going to alter me more?” asked Danny, intrigued by the possibility of being shaped into something even more helpful.
“Perhaps,” said Clockwork.
Danny pouted slightly at the nonanswer, but he knew that Clockwork must have his reasons. Not telling him must have benefits.
“These exercises will help you become more used to your new configuration, more confident in it. Now.” Clockwork folded his hands on the table. “You are going to help me build this clock.”
Danny’s core thrummed to attention. “How?” he asked.
“You will pay close attention to me, my instructions, and the materials you are working with, and nothing else.”
The rest of the world went fuzzy. “Yes,” he said, and even his own voice felt distant.
“Excellent. We will begin with the casing…”
.
.
.
Clockwork let him take the finished clock back to his room at the end of the exercise.
.
.
.
For the next exercise, Clockwork set Danny to work on a small, but somewhat overgrown and neglected, bonsai tree. This time, however, he did not give Danny explicit instructions on its care, but told him to find the information in the library, gently prompting him to look at more than one source before deciding what to do with the tree.
Danny had never found books so interesting before. He’d had no idea that making Clockwork part of his Obsession like this would have such wide-reaching effects.
It took a while for Danny to get all the information he needed, but he did, and he trimmed the bonsai down to size, watered it, fertilized it, and bent the branches into a more aesthetically pleasing shape.
Like the clock, the bonsai tree made its way to his room.
.
.
.
For the third exercise, Clockwork presented him with a blank book and told him to record a detailed history of his life, up until that moment.
Danny had hesitated, then. “There’s a lot I don’t remember,” he admitted, even as the need from his Obsession seemed to crawl into his brain to unearth memories he hadn’t known he had.
“Yes,” said Clockwork, his tone prompting.
“Will you… Will you help me? With the things I don’t remember, I mean.”
“Yes,” said Clockwork. “I will show you how to operate one of the simpler time screens, but you must never use it without my permission.”
Danny nodded, enthusiastically. He liked these exercises. He was learning so much.
.
.
.
Unlike his other two products, the book was whisked away as soon as he’d finished it, disappearing into the folds of Clockwork’s robes. Clockwork then presented him with a tiny vial, no larger than the smallest bone in Danny’s smallest finger.
“What is it?” asked Danny, tilting the vial to the side. The contents looked like water, but there was something about it Danny couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Waters of the Lethe,” said Clockwork. “Diluted.”
“Am I supposed to drink it?” Danny asked, staring up at Clockwork. The vision of Clockwork as a giant flitted across his memory again.
“People are not supposed to know their whole history. This will only abstract your memory of what you learned here, from the time screens, not your entire memory.”
“I would drink it even if it did,” said Danny.
“I know,” said Clockwork, “but for now, you need only drink this.”
Danny put the vial to his lips without hesitation, and swallowed the water inside. He blinked once, twice, slightly disoriented. “What next?” he asked.
“Next,” said Clockwork, thoughtfully, “I believe you can go home.”
.
.
.
Danny returned to Amity Park as if he had never left, as if nothing significant had changed in himself. He went to school, he fought ghosts, he talked to his friends, he played games, he helped people. Always, he helped.
And he visited Clockwork.
Clockwork almost always had something for him to do, whether that was a big thing, like saving a city from destruction, a small thing, like moving a branch, a mundane thing, like studying, or a confusing thing, like being sent to a Renaissance-era party after gorging himself on strawberries with no other instructions. And, the rare few times Clockwork didn’t have anything for Danny to do, he still treated Danny with gentle care.
Like now. Now, Clockwork carefully measured Danny's body, the width of his chest, the length of his limbs, the depth of his breath, the speed of his heart, the color of his blood. Danny followed his instructions to move and breathe, to stay still, to cough and bleed.
Clockwork patted him on the head, and Danny leaned into the touch until it turned into something more like a stroke, Clockwork’s hand tracing down to cup his cheek and the underside of his jaw.
“Do not grow,” he said, almost absently. “Do not age.”
Danny still wasn’t used to the way his body itself would respond to Clockwork’s instructions. How a few words from him could unlock abilities he would never be able to activate on his own. A shiver swept over him as his very cells seemed to set themselves in place. It felt good, of course, but it was also…
“That is still a little intense for you,” said Clockwork.
Danny made a small, soft noise of agreement. Despite himself, he was half dozing, leaning heavily on Clockwork’s hand. Today had been very long, and he was so comfortable here, where the limits and guidance of his
“I think a more thorough assessment of your physical state is in order,” said Clockwork.
Danny hummed, questioningly.
“We are going to visit your friends in the Far Frozen.”
.
.
.
The yetis looked at Clockwork with suspicion, but did not stop him.
“Hi, Frostbite!” said Danny, cheerfully, throwing himself at Frostbite. Frostbite returned the hug, albeit far more gingerly than usual.
“Hello, great one,” said Frostbite. “Timekeeper.”
Clockwork inclined his head minutely.
“I didn’t know you knew each other,” said Danny, watching the exchange with wide eyes.
“I have brought Daniel for a full physical,” said Clockwork.
“We have a custom of seeing patients alone.”
"I am aware. Daniel."
"Mhm?"
“Answer any question Chief Frostbite has.”
“Okay!”
“Truthfully,” Clockwork added.
“Yes!”
Clockwork nodded. “I expect a full medical report.”
“If he wants us to give you one, it will be done,” said Frostbite.
“I do!” said Danny. Clockwork smiled faintly, and Danny’s core itself seemed to hum in pleasure. He’d done the right thing.
“Very well, great one,” said Frostbite. He picked Danny up and carried him to the medical caves, where he started running through a standard checkup, asking Danny how he was eating, how he was sleeping, the last fight he’d been in.
But Danny had a question of his own.
“You look upset,” said Danny. “Why are you upset?”
Frostbite sighed. “Great one… Are you aware that you have been enthralled?”
Danny kicked his feet. The examination table was sized more for yetis than for human-sized things like Danny, and he felt significantly childlike, sitting on it. “Um, he didn’t use that word, but Clockwork pretty much explained what was happening to me while it was happening.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he said he was,” Danny searched for the right word, “shaping me so that I saw doing what he wanted as the same as my Obsession.” He tilted his head to one side. “Is that wrong?”
“No, it seems that he did tell you what he was doing.” Frostbite sighed.
“But you think it’s bad that he did it in the first place,” surmised Danny. “That he… enthralled me? Even though I wanted it?”
“It is complicated.” Frostbite made a chair out of ice, and sat so his eyes were level with Danny’s. “Thralls do not typically see anything wrong with their status. Many ghosts do not. Many consider it a positive, or at least a neutral thing. And I am happy, great one, that you have found a way to follow your Obsession that brings you joy and satisfaction. But it is also true that thralls are mistreated, or outright sacrificed, frequently.”
“But for their Obsession. Which is something they’d do anyway. Clockwork isn’t like that, anyway.”
Frostbite sighed heavily. “Not always for their Obsession. The point is,” he continued, before Danny could again protest that Clockwork wasn’t like that, “thralls end in tragedy and suffering, more often than not.”
Danny tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“Any position where one person has power over another is open to abuse, and the greater the degree of power, the greater the potential for abuse. We ghosts may be… constrained, somewhat, by what we are. By our Obsessions, I should say. But we are still people. People who can make both good and bad choices.”
“Okay,” said Danny. That wasn’t really what it had sounded like when he’d asked Clockwork about free will, but maybe this was just another perspective. It wasn’t like Frostbite was stupid. “Okay, but Clockwork really isn't like that. He’s taking good care of me. And our Obsessions are pretty similar, so I don’t think I’m just going to be sacrificed or whatever. I get why you’re upset,” he added, quickly. “I do! I’d be pretty upset if I thought one of my friends was tricked like that and was getting dragged around for stuff that wasn’t even their Obsession. But it isn’t like that. He even came here to make sure I was okay, didn’t he?”
“He did,” said Frostbite. He still didn’t sound happy. “For a full medical report. Do you know if he plans to alter you?”
“He’s mentioned it,” said Danny with a shrug. The idea of being further modified was thrilling.
Frostbite nodded. “Regardless, I will list the common side effects of thralldom. Let me know if you are experiencing any of these.”
“There are side effects?” asked Danny. “Wait, no, that’s stupid. Of course there are. I passed out when it all, um…” He touched the tips of his fingers together. “Clicked.”
“I see,” said Frostbite. “Was this prompted by Clockwork in any way?”
“He told me to sleep,” said Danny. “But I was definitely passing out anyway. I’ve got a lot of experience with that.”
Frostbite made a hmm deep in his throat and made a note on a pad of paper. Danny leaned forward, gazing at him in interest. He found himself wanting to cuddle in Frostbite’s fur… Not something he normally did. Even if Frostbite was very soft and fluffy.
“One of the typical side effects is more animal behavior or features.”
“Oh,” said Danny, a thought crossing his mind, “are the vulture ghosts Vlad’s thralls?”
“I am unsure,” said Frostbite. “I am unfamiliar with the ghosts you are referencing.”
“It’s not important,” said Danny, shaking his head. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered why they do stuff for him, since he doesn’t seem to pay them, like he does with Skulker.”
“Have you experienced anything like that personally?” prompted Frostbite, gently.
“I don’t think so,” said Danny.
“Lack of interest in other methods of fulfilling your Obsession?”
“Nope,” said Danny. “I’m still doing all my hero stuff.”
“Abnormal emotional states?”
“I’ve been really happy, lately, I guess,” said Danny. “But not really, other than that.”
“Anxiety over the location of your thrall-holder?”
“Mm,” said Danny, thinking. “Not really? Maybe a little bit. Clockwork isn’t really… someone who can be put in physical danger?”
“I see," said Frostbite.
“Difficulty understanding the world around you?”
“No,” said Danny. “Not more than usual.”
“Core pain?”
“At the beginning, but not right now. Clockwork did exercises with me, to help me settle.”
“Alright,” said Frostbite. “It’s time for the more traditional scans and measurements. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” said Danny.
.
.
.
Danny bounced over to Clockwork’s side, sucking on a lollipop Frostbite had given him. A still unhappy-looking Frostbite handed Clockwork a thick packet of paper, which Clockwork vanished into thin air.
“I’m ready to go when you are,” said Danny.
Clockwork nodded, eyes drifting slowly to each of the frowning yetis staring at him.
“I am aware that you are researching a way to break thralls,” said Clockwork.
“It doesn’t work, does it?” asked Danny, thoroughly spooked by the idea.
“No. Not currently, no. It isn’t something you need to worry about,” said Clockwork. It wasn’t really a command or an instruction, so Danny decided not to think about it too much. He had plenty of other things to think about, after all.
"Are you going to try to stop us?" asked Frostbite.
"No," said Clockwork. "Your research is, actually, part of the reason I brought Daniel here today."
Frostbite’s eyes flicked between Clockwork and Danny.
“I’m afraid I do not understand,” he said, finally.
“And that is acceptable. Come along, Daniel.” He began to fly away, and Danny hurried to keep pace with him.
"Are you going to have me do that, if they figure it out?" asked Danny, worried again, despite himself.
"There are scenarios in which it may become useful. I prefer to keep my options open, in these cases."
“But… You’ll only have me do it if it’s more helpful?”
“Of course,” said Clockwork, ruffling Danny’s hair casually. “I wouldn’t even consider it, otherwise.”
68 notes
·
View notes
Nugget
Entrapta talked to herself a lot. It helped her think. She also liked to walk and talk, without paying much attention to where her feet took her. Which is how it happened that while she was tramping through the uncharted Beast Island jungle her lively conversation with nobody was interrupted by a massive metallic mantis that she could have sworn came out of absolutely nowhere.
“Subject B86 — which I have nicknamed ‘Mantisaur’ — has resisted all attempts at communication!” Entrapta shrieked while dodging swipes from its razor-sharp claws. “Evasion has also proven ineffective! Extreme maintenance may be required!”
She ducked to avoid a lateral slice that grazed her hair and then sprang up with her ponytails to land on the creature’s back. She rode and wrangled it, hanging on with every limb for dear life. When it swung one leg towards her she grabbed and wrestled with the claw, before plunging the sharpened knife through its neck. Mantisaur gurgled like a dying engine and fell forward into the dirt. Its head rolled away from the crumpled carcass, the neon light in its eyes dimming into darkness.
Entrapta breathed heavily. She realized how tightly she was still gripping the mechanical insect’s body and slowly stood up to take a shaking few steps. Oil leaked onto the ground like blood. She paused when her foot struck the sparking head and turned to look. She considered the frightening face from more than one angle.
Its visage was beaked and armored, only a little bigger than a human head. Two bulbous, glassy eyes protruded from the front. A crack ran through one of the lenses, but otherwise it remained in remarkable condition. Ponderously, her muddied hair curled up to reach for her improvised tools. She needed a new welding mask.
Waste not, want not.
—
Entrapta’s nimble fingers danced on numbers, coaxing secrets out of ancient underground computers. The deeper she went into the island the more she found. In one day she learned as much as she had in her entire career researching First Ones tech. She saw the lines and wires that ran through Etheria, connecting it all. She came to understand what the old invaders had planned for this world.
The titanic machine had been eating the planet’s children and stealing thunder from its magical heart for millennia. Entrapta felt her heavy torso heave and hurl at the thought of what a weapon like that could do. Her eyes welled with tears. So much data, destroyed in an instant. It was too much to comprehend. She felt numb.
“Fascinating,” she said.
Despite the horror, curiosity continued to draw her in. It was as if her mind was drifting away from her body. She lost herself in information.
There was nothing else she needed.
—
Panicked feet flickered like fire over the tangled ground. Even in this toxic place there were still living animals, and the savage danger only made their hearts and legs pound faster.
A predator with dozens of purple tendrils pursued them. It had almost grasped the weakest and slowest of the herd when the whole wild hunt crashed through the trees into a clearing and landed on top of a burning campfire.
The animals scattered. Entrapta fell back and scrambled away from the flames, her boots smoking. Startled and wide-eyed, a short, bearded man in ragged clothes stared at her from across the clearing. A smoky spire rose between them.
The man screamed first. “Get back, creature!” he yelped, brandishing a staff that crackled with magical energy.
“Wait!” Entrapta tried to say, but she was drowned out by the blast of an aggressive enchantment.
“Don’t come near me!” the man bellowed. “You’re just one of the island’s tricks! Get back!”
Entrapta didn’t try to stay and argue. She turned and retreated into the depths of the island, loping on long legs of hair. After a few minutes of running she paused, panting, at the edge of a stagnant pond.
Looking into the reflective water, Entrapta suddenly realized why the stranger had reacted so fearfully. Staring back at her was a many-limbed monster with an insectoid face, covered in grime and filth. She barked out a haggard laugh.
“Beast Island log, day, um.” Entrapta said aloud when she had caught her breath. “It appears I’m not the only person here! Unfortunately, it would also seem that I have neglected my personal appearance to the point where other humans perceive me as a hideous monster. Perhaps I could, um.”
She trailed off. Her mind felt foggy and it was suddenly hard to see. The planet will burn if you don’t warn someone, a somber thought said. And why should I care if it does? growled another.
She tried to press through. “Perhaps it would be better if I…”
If you what? her thoughts snapped. Made yourself more palatable? Ignored their ignorance? Suffered patiently? Like you did with the princesses?
Like you did with Hordak?
That was it. She balled her hands into fists and yelled as loud as she could in rage and frustration.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”
It was hard to breathe. Everything seemed so far away. Entrapta shut her eyes and screamed until she couldn’t hear herself think anymore.
She didn’t want to hear it.
16 notes
·
View notes