Chapter 2: Only One Meaningful Encounter

It was a beautiful day. Solely because it was a Saturday, and not just any Saturday, a Saturday in which Danny Fenton could stay asleep for once in his life.

And he wasn't woken up. Thank god.

That's boring. Leave this sleeping dumpster fire alone and be somebody else.

O-o-o-o-o-O

Due to circumstance and a slumbering boy, you decide to do something more interesting.

Be Valerie Gray:

What are you talking about? You ARE and always have been Valerie Gray, in fact you are very actively in the process of being Valerie Gray.

And by "actively" you mean that you're kicking ghost ass. Again. At 9 in the morning. On a Saturday. Which really fucking sucks. A lot.

Being a teen is hard when you have to juggle a social life, schoolwork, a part-time job and the ghost hunting that you've dedicated yourself to.

Yeah.

But it's fine, because you've already wrapped up the two of the three fuckers that you woke up for. And nothing quite satisfies you like making sure the world is safe.

Well nothing other than talking to your friend Danny, who is a really good person. And a ghost. And the reason you're doing this in the first place. Which doesn't bother you as much as it should, in all honesty.

After Dani flew off into the sunset like a majestic bird, and you discovered Vlad Plasmius's identity, it wasn't that hard to put two and two together. You're still not sure how every person in town other than his best friends and sister can't tell just from looking at the two of them. Not to mention you never see them in the same place; and if you do it's probably duplication.

Gosh, you were such an idiot. You DATED the guy and still couldn't tell. You actually kissed the face of the same person you shot at on a daily basis. And he still hasn't told you himself that he was the same dude.

You're willing to wait, but you're not sure for how long. Patience is a virtue you are slightly lacking in. Your policy of 'shoot first, never ask questions later unless they're still alive,' really doesn't help matters either. Alive as a ghost can get anyways. Which isn't very, but you don't discriminate.

'Well now at least,' you think to yourself as you shoot down the last ectopus causing trouble for your neighbors.

"A job well done I'd say. You've got some cool moves! Keep it up!"

You whip around on your hoverboard to look for the voice, only to find nothing accompanying you in the air.

'Weird.'

You really hope you're not hearing things. It was probably just a docile ghost passing through. You don't mind them, and they're fine with you, as long as you keep the malevolent ghosts from bothering them. Apparently they don't get along, which confused you at first, but some ghosts just want to finish their business and move on without trouble. Only a few ghosts peaceful ghosts will have full-fledged abilities, capable of altering, creating, or destroying reality.

Protectors of the Ghost Zone.

O-o-o-o-o-O

Oh look. A new kid. What the heck is his name?

Be John Egbert:

Okay fine. You're John Egbert, and wow.

Wow.

You have just witnessed one of the coolest things you think you've ever seen.

Which is saying something, because you've been around since the beginning of the universe.

'Looks like coming to Amity was the right idea.' you think to yourself.

Yeah.

….

"I'm bored now."

….

"I thought this was the ghost capital of the world or something."

….

"… fine."

O-o-o-o-o-O

You are now Danny Fenton:

Hell to the naw, what does this look like? Some cheesy over-complicated webcomic made for losers on the internet just like the person literally writing your every fucking action- goddammit Danny you're not allowed to break the fourth wall- HEY YOU FUCKER STOP THAT INSTANTLY OR THERE WILL BE PAIN-

"Bro, this is my fucking story. Paws off the goods."

OK. You're not Danny Fenton but instead observing his actions with insight on his apparent emotional turmoil. Does that work for you, fuckass?

"Hey, I'm not the controlling binch responsible-"

MOVING ON

The name of THIS asshole is Danny Fenton. He just woke up at 10 A.M. on a Saturday and feels like Jesus revived from death.

What is he gonna do?

"Live a little."

He also somehow has the ability to see through the author's shit, but for some reason can't listen to her when she narrates the thoughts or actions of others.

TL;DR

He can only hear me when I'm talking to him directly, and knows he isn't going insane. Maybe.

"Honestly could you shut up? It's a miracle that I didn't wake up with your smothering voice layered over top of everything."

You live with your parents, dipshit. It isn't the noise that wakes you up. It's the ghosts. Which is why you haven't gotten to school on time in a month unless a ghost or your sister wakes you up.

"Fuck off."

Okee-dokee; I'm fucking off of 'your story' right now, you little shit. Gosh, you have no appreciation of the people responsible for your existence.

"Which technically isn't you, right?"

You're not supposed to know that, but OK.

Danny stopped giving a shit about almost everything a while ago; the day of his 'death'. Well, not exactly on that day, but a while after. Two years after to be exact. Since then he's been busy living his life by capturing ghosts 24/7, talking to and hanging out with his friends when he gets time, and absconding whenever his parents bring out a new weapon to show off.

Yeah.

….

"All right world, what have you got for me today?" Danny said to himself.

….

"Of course. That isn't going to be a stupid reoccurring way to switch to focusing on another person."

….

"Wow, you really set the bar low, don't you?"

….

"Yeah I'm not putting up with this."

And so Daniel Fenton did not put up with it. He went downstairs and made a bowl of cereal.

After sitting at the table with Jazz staring at him meaningfully for a full three minutes, he had to ask, "So do want to explain to me why you look like you're trying to stare through my soul?"

Her reply was a bit slow, "Do you need to talk to someone."

It wasn't a question.

"No…? What, do you think I'm having psychological breakdown or something? I am the epitome of healthy over here." he waved his arms in emphasis.

"You were talking to yourself rather loudly for a few minutes."

"Your point is? I just wish she would shut up."

"Who?"

Yo.

"It really doesn't matter, Jazz. Trust me."

She looked at him with a look of suspicion, her eyes squinted, and lips drawn into a fine line, "Right. Sure."

"Hey, it's not like I'm a purple-blooded clown in polka-dot pants going a murder rampage."

"That's oddly specific."

"You asked." She rolled her eyes in response, and stood up.

"Alright, well I'm going to go to the library, try not to get into trouble while I'm away."

"Psshhh, what could happen?" he replied, unknowingly sealing his own doom. Murphy's Law is a bitch. A bitch with only half the facts in an argument with someone with no facts. It didn't take much to screw up your day.

O-o-o-o-o-O

Yooooooo

So far there seems to be an imbalance of Danny Phantom: Homestuck ratio, but we haven't gotten into the real story yet. Think of this chapter as an introduction to the set up and my weird-as-all-fuck writing style.

So yeah. There you go. Another chapter down.

Amazing.

Also, if you guys have any questions, and I mean ANY at all, I'll publicly place them in this little end of chapter note slot. I find that interaction with the audience is a good practice.

Also, just in case any of you have an account of AO3, but not here, you can find a link to my AO3 account on my profile page.

~Gryffalien