He doesn't know who these people are but he can guess. The other ghosts have told him about the Fentons. They wear brightly colored jumpsuits and hunt ghosts. It used to be that they hunted all ghosts on sight but shortly after he was dead they started to become more, what word had the ghost girl used, disc- discriminating, that's it!, and now only hunt ghosts who bother people. Though to him it seems if they became more discriminating they would not become more tolerant so...
Does being in their house count as bothering? He hopes not. He doesn't want to be hunted. In fact he's rather thinking about disappearing back into the ghost zone.
"Danny?"
The female Fenton finally opens her mouth but he doesn't understand what she's asking. He cocks his head.
"Who's Danny?"
The woman sags against the wall behind her.
"Jack?"
Her voice is fearful and hopeful and confused all at the same time. Her question doesn't seem to be directed at him this time. Is she calling for the other Fenton? The male is more trigger happy, he knows. Should he go home? But the pull at his core is leading him here, out into the living world.
'The male Fenton is a Giant!' he observes, alarmed. But his flight response is stalled when the man stumbles to a stop and stares at him with wild eyed grief and the same hope present in the female Fenton.
"Phantom?"
They know him. That can't be good. He's never been out before. Had the other ghosts been ratting on him? Were they telling good things or bad things? Of the few ghosts he'd met some had been openly friendly or hostile but others, all numbering among the ghosts who regularly traveled through the portals, regard him with some confusing mix of the two that leaves him more fearful that when around openly hostile ghosts. He never knows if someone in that grouping wants to talk or beat him to a pulp.
The Fenton's are still staring at him as if waiting for him to say something. Right.
"Uh… Phantom. That's me."
