Previously...David was alone at last. On the roof, of all places, but it was quieter, warm, and comfortable. He'd found a little nook in the darkness, right at the edge of the building. For a little while he sat and watched the rising moon. Not a bad place to be, all things considered. Sure, he would rather be home, but he could also have been in...Siberia, or what was left of it.
The night lulled at him, whispering sweet promises of sleep and comfort. All lies, of course: he couldn't sleep like normal people could. That would be too easy, too relaxing. He didn't know why his abilities had randomly popped into existence since leaving home, but he doubted he would be welcome home to find out. So he dealt with the night time adventures as best he could. At least he wasn't dying from sleep deprivation. Yet.
He closed his eyes. Just for a bit, he told himself, and then he'd wake himself up. One perk of being a ghost-lord of the night: he never overslept. For a few minutes his mind was blank, slowly fading into obscurity.
Then the Phantom rose from the dust, its swirling darkness forming shoulders, arms, a head. Hey, if he was going to be stuck with this kind of ability, he might as well be somewhat threatening for it. The Phantom grew in size, incorporeal cloak dancing in imagined winds as he loomed high above the roof. Ah, to be free.
David would have smiled, but the Phantom's emotions were somewhat dulled by the power of sleep. Instead, he touched the rooftop, sinking through it. Down, down he traveled: slowly, to avoid losing track of is surroundings. Once he had sunk so fast into the Earth he had ended up in the sewers before he'd been able to slow himself down. Only fate itself knew how much deeper than that he could go. Probably straight through to the other side, if he felt like it.
After a few, slow moments of descending, Phantom entered the ballroom as a frightfully large monster, silent as the moon. He slid through the ceiling head first, rotating gently in the air so that the bottom of his form touched the floor first. He didn't say anything: that would have given him away. Instead, he slowly shrunk down to the size of a normal man, going from "Death, Horseman of the Apocalypse" to "Ghost Cosplayer" in the span of five seconds.
He floated forward then, passing through several unsuspecting Epics. He'd noticed that passing through some people left them with a strange, mild sense of dread: a tremor which passed as soon as he left. It was hilarious. He saw Dragon Heart and that Epic who had been on the roof. Just a little bit more mischief, he told himself, fading from view entirely.
Invisible David crept silently through the crowd until he slid right through the two epics: first the armored Epic, then Dragon Heart in turn. Then he looked for a few more targets: a young looking guy with a weird arm. That'd work. He soared across the room to poke the guy in the ear with a telekinetic finger. Wet willy--no, Ghost Willy.
He removed himself to the top corner of the room, still invisible, to see what, if anything, would become of his handiwork. Invisible ghostman. That was him.
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