Chapter 1

It was another unknowable time of day -
or night whatever- in the world of green swirlyness, as Jason had taken to calling the timeless world of swirly green clouds and floating islands that was all he could remember ( his hat chimed as if to disagree so he threw it over the islands edge once more).
He had no idea how long he'd been in this place that felt strange yet somehow familiar at the same time. A lot of time must have passed though, he was sure,
and still ge hadn't been able to get rid of it. The bane of his short existance,
the black hole that sucked joy from every pore in his body, the monstrosity on his head that by its freaking ear piercing jingling denied everything he knew to be true. 'No Jason, your existance couldn't have been that short.
Jason, you can tell you don't have pores. I'm not black hole Jason I'm two toned. And the worst, the absolute worst of all, Jesters I'm a hat, thinking I have any kind of awareness makes you crazy'.
" I'm not crazy", he said aloud, just to hear the voice of the one person he decided was completely sane. None of the people he'd had the chance to speak to deserved a clean bill of mental health.
He sighed.
The hat was back again.
Trying to get rid of the abominable thing had been his mission as soon as he'd finished laughing like an acrobat - he wasn't sure where the analogy came from but it felt right.
He'd throw it over the edge a few times but it always came right back, so he'd resorted to more strenuous means.
Means that involved more than just lifting his arm, tipping forward, and watching as the thing grew in to a black and white speck in the distance, the tinkling of his bells fading away into nothingness...
Only to reapear as soon as it was out of sight, right atop his head with a vindictive chiming.
He'd lost count of how many times he'd attempted that simple tactic before he gave it up as hopeless.
After scratching at the ground proved it too hard and unyeilding yo scrape up a hole large enough that the hat could be buried without tools he peered over the edge to take in his surroundings. In every direction were more floating islands, floating doors - something he made sure to pretend wasn't creepy -
and ofcourse more green swirlyness as far as the eye could see.
Not too far below him was an island that immediately caught his sharp eye.
It was forested. Forests meant sticks and possibly soft, loamy soil, both of which would make his task doable. He carefully made his way over the edge.
... Danny Fenton was tired. He'd admit to that much, but only when he was Danny Fenton. He was tired of lying to his family. Tired of dangerous inventions acting out around him. Tired of his friends nagging him to rest Mostly he was tired of being awake.
Unfortunately these were all Danny Fentons probelms. Danny Fenton could afford to be tired of everything and anything he wanted whenever he wanted,
as long as it was only Dannny Fenton who worried about it. Danny Phantom,
however didn't have the luxury of indulging in exhaustion. Danny Phantom had to stay on gaurd constantly. As Danny Phantom he could be attacked at any time. This had been the norm for two years now. Two years of fighting to keep the people of Amity safe from creatures he wouldn't know to harm it if not for the stupid portal in his stupid basement. The stupid portal that neither Fenton nor Phantom were usually stupid enough to be careless around. He'd just been so... not tired definitely not tired,
bur maybe overwelmed by all the work he'd had lately. Fenton had been swamped by school assignments he hadn't been able to work on before because Phantom had been needed for a string of attacks, one after another.
Stupid ghosts. He'd found out that he'd be made to reapeat the year if he didn't hand in his assignments on time, when Fentons troubles had to take a backseat to Phantoms yet again. Stupid box ghost.
It was a little hard to come to remember exactly how it had happened. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd been too overwelmed to pay much attention, or because he'd have died of embarrassment if he remembered enough about a fight in wich he'd been overwelmed by the BOX GHOST!
Stuck floating around the ghost zone inside the stupid Fenton thermos was enough to worry about as it was. He knew most other times he'd have been more worried about being trapped with very little chance of escape, but his thoughts kept wandering off to how appealing the idea of a nap was just then.
So he busied his mind with thoughts of how stupid the world was. It was better than thinking about how hopeless his situation really was. The chances of his friends knowing what had happened to him were slim. It'd take them a while to find and free him once they had.
He wasn't woried about never being freed. They did have the booomerang after all. They'd definitely find him. What made the situation hopeless was that they wouldn't find him soon enough for him to complete his stupid homework.
He'd have to repeat the year. It seemed such a trivial thing compared to what else he was facing, but thinking about it made him want to sob. Heroes didn't cry. Heroes didn't get tired.
So dwelling on thoughts of either school or napping was unacceptable.
For a while he toyed with the idea of one of his enemies releasing him, if he were capable of making a sound he would have laughed. He amused himself by imaging himself being freed by Skulker. The hunter would open the thermos thinking he was helping a fellow ghost and out would pop his prey.
In truth Dannny doubted the squishy blob of a ghost would take so much as the time it took to unscrew a lid to help a fellow ghost at all.
Having nothing less depressing to do he returned to his previous line of thought.
He was so engrossed in his mental tirade of the world's stupidity that it took him a few moments to notice he was free.
And on Skulkers island.
A quick scan brought him some peice of mind with the knowledge that, at least for now his pelt was safe. Peice of mind that was short lived when he took note of a ghost looking standing right in front of him.
Next to the new ghost was a patch of soil freshly disturbed, a tip of bell-
topped fabric poking out.
He blinked and the tip was gone, the ghost now with a black and white jesters cap on his head.