Fukuda finds himself (or, like, Vladself) in a quarantined hospital room. There are Geiger counters on a few walls, and barely visible from the inside of the room, a gigantic warning sign plastered on the door outside, warning of a severe biohazard risk inside.
He's hooked up to what feels like dozens of 80's-era medical machines, practically tethered in place here in this hospital bed. But he feels fine. In fact, he feels fantastic--especially compared to the past few years trapped in here.
He holds his arm out and stares intently at it...and wonders. Was what he saw before real? He has to know. Invisible, he thinks. Turn invisible.
It doesn't. It's not that easy. But he doesn't give up--after all, it's not like he's got anything better to do here.
He desperately grasps onto the idea of invisibility, tries to imagine what it might feel like, tries to focus on seeing the bed through his arm, until--it disappears. He's done it. His arm has really turned invisible, and...and...oh jesus, something has gone terribly wrong with him, hasn't it. Maybe the doctors were right to put a biohazard sign on his door.
There's a knock on the door and a doctor in full hazmat suit enters. He hastily shoves his arm out of sight, but when he looks down at his side just in case, it's fully visible again. Thank god. He doesn't want to scare the doctors even more--not yet.
The doctor does their regular midday checkup, a long and arduous process of checking a million vitals that both he and the doctor know will never go anywhere in this freak case, but they seem to be satisfied that he's not dying (hah), so they leave without a word. It's hard to talk in those suits, and he knows the doctor will return around dinnertime anyway.
So he returns to experimenting. Days, then weeks, then months fly by like this: playing innocent for the doctors while trying to discover the limits of what's happened to him, what he can do. He discovers that in addition to invisibility, he can also turn parts of his body (or even all of it!) intangible, shoving his arm halfway through the bed as if it's nothing but air. And a few times, he's even managed to spark pink energy in his hands, so bright and glowing it's almost acidic. Ectoplasm, he realizes faintly after a while. Like a ghost.
Vlad Masters has no idea what happened to him, or what he even is, but he suspects he is no longer fully human. ]
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And what, exactly, is the purpose of all this anyway?
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[And he's just patting Vlad on the arm. Lisa give me the ghost powers memshare.]
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Fukuda finds himself (or, like, Vladself) in a quarantined hospital room. There are Geiger counters on a few walls, and barely visible from the inside of the room, a gigantic warning sign plastered on the door outside, warning of a severe biohazard risk inside.
He's hooked up to what feels like dozens of 80's-era medical machines, practically tethered in place here in this hospital bed. But he feels fine. In fact, he feels fantastic--especially compared to the past few years trapped in here.
He holds his arm out and stares intently at it...and wonders. Was what he saw before real? He has to know. Invisible, he thinks. Turn invisible.
It doesn't. It's not that easy. But he doesn't give up--after all, it's not like he's got anything better to do here.
He desperately grasps onto the idea of invisibility, tries to imagine what it might feel like, tries to focus on seeing the bed through his arm, until--it disappears. He's done it. His arm has really turned invisible, and...and...oh jesus, something has gone terribly wrong with him, hasn't it. Maybe the doctors were right to put a biohazard sign on his door.
There's a knock on the door and a doctor in full hazmat suit enters. He hastily shoves his arm out of sight, but when he looks down at his side just in case, it's fully visible again. Thank god. He doesn't want to scare the doctors even more--not yet.
The doctor does their regular midday checkup, a long and arduous process of checking a million vitals that both he and the doctor know will never go anywhere in this freak case, but they seem to be satisfied that he's not dying (hah), so they leave without a word. It's hard to talk in those suits, and he knows the doctor will return around dinnertime anyway.
So he returns to experimenting. Days, then weeks, then months fly by like this: playing innocent for the doctors while trying to discover the limits of what's happened to him, what he can do. He discovers that in addition to invisibility, he can also turn parts of his body (or even all of it!) intangible, shoving his arm halfway through the bed as if it's nothing but air. And a few times, he's even managed to spark pink energy in his hands, so bright and glowing it's almost acidic. Ectoplasm, he realizes faintly after a while. Like a ghost.
Vlad Masters has no idea what happened to him, or what he even is, but he suspects he is no longer fully human. ]
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[What a memory to see.]
It's not fair that you get to be the super hero genre too? That's too cool.
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[STOP WITH THE TROPES.]
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