So the Moonjumper seems to be a very popular character in this fandom, despite not actually being part of the finished package. Everyone seems to have different ideas of how he's supposed to be like, and after reading a bunch of stories about him, I just wanted to throw my own oversized top hat into the ring with the lions and see if it gets ripped to shreds.

(I own lots of things that I don't really use, but I don't own A Hat in Time. I've played the game, I just didn't make it)

Hat Kid skipped down the street, a carefree smile on her face. After a whole hour of being locked in a stuffy room, listening to a bunch of old people yap on about this and that, she was all too ready to get back home and sleep the rest of the day away.

Planetary travel was a common pursuit on Hat Kid's homeworld. Heck, all the people she knew was involved with it in one way or another. Overseeing all of the travels was a huge corporation that held stock of the time pieces. Its every action was controlled by a select council that sat at the very top, and apparently accidentally losing the time pieces was a big no-no for them.

Hat Kid had been called to meet the council for having her time pieces stolen by a certain hatless, moustached, hood-wearing, statue-posing, ticket-giving individual. From the small bits she could recall from the meeting, they might just take all of her cushions and pillows away from her, send her on a nice trip, send her on a nice fall, or send her a tiny white elephant to take care of, a punishment they took from another planet. (Though they seemed to lack knowledge as to how it was supposed to work) The list went on for a really long time, but Hat Kid didn't pay much attention to what was on it.

The one punishment that really caught her attention, however, was that she just might be barred from space travel. Hat Kid didn't think that they would give that one to her, though; it wasn't her fault that the time pieces had ended up being used to create an alternate universe. Surely they would have ten billion more penalties that wouldn't involve taking away her right to travel.

Then she reached the shipyard, where her ship was waiting patiently for her, and she decided that such grim matters could wait to be thought about, for she had more important matters attend to. Like her empty stomach, for example.

Darkness was all that welcomed her home. With a flick of her hand, lights flickered and went ablaze. Hat Kid stepped back onto the plush carpet that coated the wooden floor of her spaceship, and her feet sunk in as if the carpet was cuddling her feet. She was finally back on home soil after her little misadventure on Earth, yet her spaceship still felt more like home than her planet of origin. She may have been raised on a icy rock over a never-ending sea, but her heart belonged to the stars. (Bleh. The mushy kind of stuff never sat well with her)

Hat Kid waded through the carpet, deeper into the empty central room. She lamented how her spaceship always felt empty after she had gotten so used to having all those foreign artifacts around, but being the law-abiding citizen that she was, Hat Kid had turned all of them in to be stored somewhere else. Well, almost all of them.

The strangely shaped cushion sat in the corner, shying away from the lights that glared down below. It was strange that she felt so sentimental for the first artifact she had recovered from that big blue planet, but she had seen stranger in the past few days.

The first room she headed to was the kitchen. Her fridge only contained food that tasted good when cold, since she did not have any way to heat up food in a pinch, (if only she had some sort of microwave oven, like the one she used to punish the bad food whenever she felt like playing with her meals)

Hat Kid reached inside to grab a cookie, and as she snaked it past rows of assorted food, she couldn't help but feel as if something was off. When she bit into the cookie, she realized what it was; the fridge wasn't cold. Her brow furrowed, and she gave the fridge a good hit, causing it to emit a rattling sound. She stuck a hand inside, but she couldn't feel any difference. Hat Kid debated on whether she should investigate this strange occurrence, but eventually decided that sleeping was more important.

Hat Kid left the kitchen re-energized- with just enough energy to finish the cookie in her hand and get back to bed. She leapt over the edge, down to the floor below, when the lights went out. In the darkness, Hat Kid couldn't see where she was going, and landed face-first onto the carpet. As she slowly picked herself back up, the lights turned on again, as if someone was playing tricks on her. Slightly angry, Hat Kid glanced around the room, as if to look for ghosts, (actually, she was looking for ghosts. Turning your lights on and off so you would run into the floor seems like a very ghost-y thing to do) out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the sign next to the machine room appeared a bit wonky.

Someone had broken in to her ship. More cautious now, Hat Kid slowly advanced on the door, half-eaten cookie in hand. Crumbs fell to the floor, before they were quickly swallowed up by the carpet, and Hat Kid began to wonder why she hadn't finished the cookie in the kitchen. She had no time to dwell on that thought, however; she had to finish looking at the machine room first.

Slowly, Hat Kid entered the machine room. Nothing looked out of place; everything was in order. The machines were running normally, the computer was still making the funny beeping noises that it always did. Usually, the carpet was so thick that anyone who had stepped on it would leave footprints, but the floor was still squeaky clean.

Then, her eyes fell on the power generator, and she managed to catch sight of a disheveled rag, draped across the machine.