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phoenixremix69 · 1 month ago

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How the Ghost Zone works: A speculative essay by me, the sexiest phan alive, because fuck Butch Hartman

So, to start off with, I think we need to establish what the ghost zone is, and how it relates to time and space and how one can access any point in time and space through it

The Ghost Zone is, to begin with, an afterlife, shocker I know. Now, if it's the one singular afterlife, a between point for more conventional afterlives like Valhalla or Heaven, or if afterlives like those are merely contained within the zone, is a moot point. The important part is that it is almost or entirely comprised of ectoplasm. Nowthe question becomes "What is Ectoplasm?" well, I believe it is the energy of death in a plasma form, sort of like the primordial gasses and space dust that existed at the beginning of the universe to later form more complex gasses and later liquid and solid matter. Except instead of adhering to the forces of gravity, big to small, it is attracted to emotion, the more emotion and willpower, the greater amount of ectoplasm that can accumulate and be manipulated. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The reason the zone can be used to access any point in space, time, even alternate timelines, is because, to put it simply, everything everywhere is always dying. People were dying in England in 1653, people are dying in America in 2025, People will die in France in 2856. And if multiverse theory is correct, people are dying then too. And if they die, they have to be able to access the zone. Thus the only way for a place to be completely INaccessible is for literally nothing to have ever lived or will live in that place, because if something lives, inevitably, it will die.

Now, back to what I was saying before about ectoplasm being attracted to emotions, this is how I believe ghosts form. At the time of a being's death, their emotions will attract ectoplasm to it if strong enough. a bug with little emotion might wind up as just a little gob of ectoplasm , but a fully sentient being full of regrets and pain will wind up as a fully sentient ghost shaped by those emotions. Which is a good a segway to start talking about the actual ghosts as any.

Now, I've categorized the ghost into 4 different categories depending on their origins and general level of strength with several examples

The undead, this is what you or I would typically think of when you hear "Ghost," , they lived, they died, they came back due to their emotions at their time of death, and these emotions shaped their abilities and personalities as a ghost, what anyone in the phandom would refer to as an obsession. Ember died an unappreciated and forgotten musician in a housefire. Now she exists as a ghost who's whole existence is dependent on being heard and remembered. Sydney Poindexter, a bullied child who suffocated being stuffed in his own locker, now haunts his old locker and now devotes himself to stopping bullying. Desiree, an ex harem member to a sheik(I think?maybe a sultan) was executed because she couldn't or wouldn't obey her master's wishes now exists as a genie that grants any wish heard.

Next up are the Neverborn. these we know the least about, but there are definitely beings that were never born, never lived, but still exist as ghosts. These include Box Lunch, Dani, and the other clones. Maybe they exist purely because of another's desires to have a child, but because Vlad had impure or muddled desires when making them, they dissolved.

Then we come to what the phandom refers to as the "Ancients". These beings seemingly have existed for millenia, are much bigger and stronger than the undead, and seemingly encompass entire concepts of the universe. This is because, I believe, they aren't the remnants of singular beings, but rather the combined conglomerates of the thoughts and feelings of the entire multiverse. Say one man dies thinking about time itself as he passes. He doesn't come back as an undead, but that thought sticks around as a little blob of ectoplasm. Then this happens again. and again. and again. Trillions of beings in the past, present, and, because the zone exists forever, the future, all thinking about this one little thing all of us have thought about a billion times a day. But let's not just stop at time, Don't people die thinking "Nature is so beautiful, but so deadly" "This storm is so powerful, i wish i could've survived it" "This will be my last time sleeping, so I hope it is a pleasant dream." Clockwork. Undergrowth. Vortex. Nocturn. I even believe that rather than an undead, Pariah Dark was the very concept of a king made manifest.

And last but not least, the halfas. Now, remember that gravity analogy, how ectoplasm is attracted to emotion. Undead are like rubber band balls, ectoplasm wrapped around a core of obsession. Ancients are like snowballs, one little flake accumulating more snow as it rolls down a hill. Halfa's are like apex predators that absorb more and more nutrition from everything below them in the foodchain. Because instead of little wisps of singular emotions and obsessions, that's an entire personality dunked in a whole dimension of ectoplasm. It adheres to their everything, their constantly evolving and shifting personalities attracting more and more ectoplasm as they feel. The longer they go, the stronger they feel, the more they become

Now, there's a bunch of stuff I have no clue about, mostly pertaining to artifacts like the reality gauntlet, Freakshow's staff, and Pariah's crown and ring, but I feel like most of those are one offs that don't have an impact on the lore as a whole, so i feel comfortable ignoring those.

Until next time

#danny phantom #danny fenton #the ghost zone #phandom #danny phantom headcanon #ember mclain #desiree #dani phantom #boxlunch #clockwork #undergrowth #pariah dark #vlad plasmius #halfas #long post #nickelodeon #butch hartman

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five-rivers · 2 years ago

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Daedalus

@regular-dog Hello! I am your holiday truce gifter this year! I hope you enjoy this labyrinth-themed fic. Happy New Year!

Only three years in, and it was already impossible to tell how big Amity Park was. Normal methods of surveying didn’t work. Physical maps were either always right or always wrong, and sometimes both at once. Driving across the city at a constant speed didn’t help, either. The outgoing trip and the return trip never seemed to match, and there simply weren’t enough one-way streets in Amity Park for that to be the answer to the problem.

Asking the residents didn’t help, either. They couldn’t even agree on how big the city they lived in was. Some of them acted like Amity Park was the second coming of Chicago, others expressed confusion when Amity Park was referred to as anything but a small town.

(The census data was almost worse.)

But no matter what version of Amity a particular resident believed they lived in, there were always similarities. There was always Casper High, and its Ravens, and every student went there, and learned from Mr. Lancer, and heard the rumors about Sydney Poindexter. There was always the Nasty Burger, and Valerie Gray working one of the many distasteful jobs that the place had to offer. There was always Amity Park Park, confusingly named and full of even more confusing paths, whether it was a city park or a county park, or something else altogether.

There was always Fentonworks, rising tall and strange from a small, ordinary neighborhood.

There was a heaviness there, around that particular building. A weight that drew in other things, that twisted. It was the heart of a labyrinth of streets, of old roads and new, of forest paths and disused hiking trails. It was the heart of Amity Park.

And it should be said that, at the heart of any labyrinth, there was a monster.

And it should be said that, at the threshold of every labyrinth, there was a princess.

And it should be said that the one thing that every labyrinth waits for is a hero.

Samantha Manson wound golden string around her fingers, thinking. It glowed faintly in the dark of her room, like the thinnest, purest beam of sunlight cast through morning mist and a thick canopy of leaves overhead.

However, her eyes didn’t linger on it. Instead, she looked out the window over her– garden– conservatory– greenhouse– private park– the place where she went to grow plants, and be among them, that may or may not have changed in nature and size while she was looking. Which may or may not have had many natures and sizes.

She closed her eyes. Insight was useful, as vital as the blood in her veins and the lightning in her nerves, but it had its drawbacks.

When she opened them again, a hedge maze stood dark and tempting beneath the light of a moon that should not be full and should not be there and had never been that big, in any case. The lights of Amity- rising high with skyscrapers or low to the ground and scattered among farmhouses– laid beyond it.

In her hands, the string hummed, as if it had been held taught and plucked. A single, clear note filled the air.

“Do you think it will work?” she asked.

There shouldn’t have been anyone in her room, and there wasn’t. But her nearest neighbors could be five miles from the walls of her home or five feet, and she rarely spoke to them. The distance between friends was greater, but also infinitely less.

Tucker looked up from his computer, which sat at his desk, in his own room, in his own house, the light from the moon shining in from the window behind him. His glasses reflected the pale, bluish light of his computer screen. The wheels of his desk chair rolled across the carpet of his room - so different from hers - with a squeak.

“You’re not getting cold feet now,” he said. It wasn’t so much a question as an exclamation.

Sam sniffed. “Of course not. But I’m not the one taking the biggest risk, am I?”

There was a third room. This one dark and starry. The glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to every available surface were normal. The patterns they were in were not. Nor were the eyes that stared out from beneath star-spangled bedsheets. Nor was the moon, gleaming from windows stationed on either side of the bed.

“I’m not sure if it actually matters if it works,” said the owner of those eyes, blinking slowly. “I mean, if it works the way it’s supposed to work. We’ll just go back to plan A if it doesn’t.”

“No offense, Danny, but plan A sucked,” said Tucker.

“How am I not supposed to take offense to that?” whined Danny. “Plan A is fine. It’s a normal plan. I know my city.” The last was said with a casual but deep possessiveness.

“Plan A wasn’t even really a plan,” said Sam. “Your plan was to just fly in and find them, never mind all the other things that are happening.”

“That’s not so different from this plan,” protested Danny. “It’s basically the same. It’s just the how that’s different.”

“Pretty big how, though,” said Tucker. “And I thought you liked this plan.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Danny. “I’m just saying, I’m just saying that even if it doesn’t work, we won’t be any worse off than we were at the beginning, before, you know. The research.” He pointed vaguely in the direction of his window.

Somehow, Sam knew that he was, in fact, pointing at the stack of thick books sitting on her desk. Only, instead of pointing at them across the there-not-there division between their rooms, he was pointing in their true direction, across the streets and forests of Amity Park.

The covers of the books shouldn’t have been legible in the darkness. Sam could read them anyway. Greek mythology. Sympathetic magic. Recurrence. Narrative causality. Daedalus, Icarus, Theseus, Ariadne, Asterion.

Four days ago, New Athens High School had sent a bus bearing the fourteen members of their track team and their coach to a meet in Elmerton. On the way back, the driver had made a wrong turn, knifing straight through the heart of Amity. The bus, the driver, and the coach had come out the other side. No one knew what had happened to the track team.

Danny had spent three of those days looking for them. Amity Park had spent those same three days winding itself more tightly than the ball of string sitting on Sam’s desk. Whether it was downtown, or the forest, or the suburbs, the part of Amity New Athens’ bus had passed through was a maze.

A labyrinth.

They’d thrown themselves into research, then, begging for information from their allies. Or, rather, from Danny’s allies. Most of them, with the exception of Dora, were there for him more than for the rest of them. Pandora was the one who had finally noticed the connections, the links with old stories, the resonance.

There was a labyrinth. There were sacrifices. Other roles–

“Or, if you don’t want to leave it, you could send Tucker in,” said Danny, shrugging slightly. “If it doesn’t work with just me. You know.”

Sam’s fingers slipped.

Sam was the obvious choice for the role of princess. Danny was the obvious choice for the role of hero.

He should have been, anyway.

“Hence why I’m asking if you think it’ll work,” said Sam, sharply.

“I hope it’ll work.”

Sam huffed. “Not what I’m asking.”

“It won’t hurt to try.”

“It might,” said Sam. “The monster dies at the end of the story. The princess is abandoned. Even Theseus doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“And we aren’t those characters. It isn’t as if Tucker is going to cut my head off.” Again, Danny waved in Tucker’s true direction, rather than across the emptiness of his room. “We’re the ones making the decisions. We’re just using the stories for– For narrative clout. Or however you described it.”

“Danny…”

“It’ll be fine. I mean,” he looked up at her with those too-bright eyes, the rest of his face black with shadows, “if you’re having second thoughts, it’s fine. We can try something else.”

“I’m not having second thoughts.” Sam began to unwind the string from around her fingers, wrapping it around the rest of the ball. The maze outside her window had become a winding garden path, and the neighbors were once again nearby.

Tucker cleared his throat. “First thing in the morning, then? We ride at dawn and all that?”

“Before dawn would probably be better, honestly,” said Sam.

Danny sighed. “I’ll set my alarm clock.”

It might have been neater to enter the maze in Sam’s backyard, or to start from the spiraling center that was Fentonworks, but that wasn’t where the bus had disappeared. The bus had disappeared going through downtown Amity Park.

Well. Insofar as the bus had disappeared in any particular location. And insofar as Amity Park had a downtown.

The lack of permanence of place made discussing things like this somewhat difficult.

Still. At the moment, there was a downtown. A historical shopping district, as a matter of fact. As he walked down the sidewalk in the crisp, gray, predawn light, Danny could feel beneath his feet a hum. The shopping district here was the mainstreet of small town Amity, even as skyscrapers loomed overhead, and the layers felt real enough for Danny to reach out and rub them between his fingers.

(They weren’t really, but they felt like it.)

He stopped in front of an alley that smelled of cinnamon and sea salt. Here, the layers parted, and you could slip between them, into the interstices and forbidden places of Amity Park.

“Is this the place?” asked Tucker.

“Yeah,” said Danny. “I think so.” He motioned them to the mouth of the alley, where they’d be covered by shadows and next to unnoticeable by those who were firmly in any one version of Amity Park. “Sam?”

She teased out the end of the golden string and cast it towards Danny. As it flew through the air, it twisted and knotted itself before falling over Danny’s head. The loops shrunk around his neck, creating a narrow golden collar.

Danny raised his hand to touch it and made a face. “It’s tight,” he said.

“Sorry,” said Sam, glaring at the ball of string as if it had betrayed her. “I don’t–”

“It’s fine,” said Danny, waving it off. “Just unexpected.”

“Right,” said Tucker, stepping forward. “Your sword, Theseus.” He handed Danny a Fenton invention that had a passing resemblance to a lightsaber.

Danny rolled his eyes and took the small cylinder. “Thanks. But don’t call me that.”

“Hey, that’s the story we’re trying to tell.”

“We’ll give it a tug if we run out of string,” said Sam.

“Mm,” said Danny. “Well. Might have to give it more than one. Don’t let me drag you in.”

Sam snorted. “What, like you drag us into everything else?”

“Seriously. Just let me go if I start pulling too hard.”

“No way,” said Tucker. “We’ll just tie you onto some building or something.”

“I have been known to bring down buildings.”

“Well, don’t,” said Sam.

“Wow. No sympathy here, I see.”

“Nope,” said Sam and Tucker together.

“Now go save the tourists,” said Sam, pushing him forward.

“They’re not really tourists,” said Danny. But even so, he stepped across the line and into the gap.

Into the labyrinth.

The in-between spaces of Amity Park did not immediately look like they were the in-between spaces of Amity. Danny sometimes liked to imagine that they were what Amity Park used to look like, before it became a dozen different, mutually exclusive places. That had to be impossible, though. There was too much, too many different things, afterimages and fantasies and illusions.

People walked on the streets, and cars drove, but they were transparent, projections from the layers of Amity immediately bordering this space. Sometimes, they walked through each other, not noticing at all.

Danny still flinched when it looked like cars were about to run into one another, and let out a breath of relief when they instead seemed to phase through each other.

So he walked.

He walked, and as he walked, the road began to change. He began to change. Facades paled. Grecian columns reached up the sides of skyscrapers and ranch homes. Brick turned to marble. Danny’s t-shirt and jeans slowly, gently, became a chiton and chlamys, trimmed in red. The Fenton Saber became a sword of green-tinted bronze, strapped to a belt around his waist. His shoes became sandals, laced up to his knees.

It wasn’t the first time Danny had worn clothing like this. He did visit Pandora. But he’d never worn it in Amity Park. It was a little embarrassing. The ancient Greeks’ idea of underwear was… lacking, in Danny’s opinion. But it wasn’t as if anyone here could see him.

The act of walking here also felt strange, and Danny couldn’t understand why this was needed. Not really. Not the act, not the ritual. By virtue of his nature, he could duck in and out of anywhere in Amity whenever he wanted. Mostly. At least, he could find places to duck in and out whenever he wanted.

He should have been able to find the missing students without any problem.

But he hadn’t.

And he still wasn’t finding them. There was no pull. No indication of what direction he should go, what direction he could find them in.

Danny sighed, and the sky above boiled with stars.

He looked up, not having expected that, then shrugged and continued to walk. Things here were strange.

There were words on the walls, now, carved into the marble alongside window displays for cell phones and stationary. Ἀστερίων, Ἀριάδνη, Θησεύς. He traced Ἀριάδνη with his fingers. It sparked gold, the same color as the string around Danny’s neck.

And then the string flexed. Pulled. Spooled forward, winding into a ball in front of Danny. A short thread was thrown off of the rapidly spinning ball and settled on Danny’s head before solidifying into something heavy and cold.

(Elsewhere, the end of the string tears itself out of Sam’s hand, disappearing into the rift between.)

“Oh,” said Danny. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, and mentally apologized to his friends for worrying them. “Theseus was from Athens. Ariadne wasn’t just rich, she had authority over Crete. We had the roles wrong.”

(Not that Danny really wanted authority over Amity Park. That… just wasn’t his thing. He didn’t want to be in charge. He just wanted to protect.)

But this meant… He needed to find one of the New Athens kids and get them to be Theseus.

He didn’t want to do that. He was here to rescue them, not to force them to rescue themselves. And… iIf he could find one of them, couldn’t he find the others? Finding them was the problem he’d started with. If he could find them, he could bring them out.

He stumbled as the section of string wrapped around his throat tightened. That actually hurt!

Then it loosened and Danny took a deep breath.

Narrative weight, right. They were already trying this story. Changing it or aborting it halfway would have consequences. Ones that Danny didn’t want to deal with.

He swallowed. He couldn’t help but remember that in the story of Theseus and the Minotaur, many people, many Athenians, had died before Theseus had finally defeated the Minotaur. When it was Danny in the role of Theseus, that hadn’t been a concern. He was certain he could fight any monster, any ghost in the role of the Minotaur.

But some random kid from New Athens? One who had probably never seen a ghost, and who had been stuck here for days?

That… that he wasn’t at all confident about.

Sam had been right to be wary of the risks. It was different, when someone else was facing them.

He rolled the ball between his hands, feeling it over. Power thrummed between his fingers, brighter and sharper than before. A thin stripe of gold ran down the sidewalk, twisting over on itself and turning away from the main street.

Danny sighed, and started to follow.

Danica was starting to panic.

One moment, she’d been on the bus, falling asleep after a difficult meet despite how risky it was to fall asleep anywhere near Georgie and his so-called ‘artistic impulses.’ The next thing she knew, she was waking up on a sidewalk in some kind of nightmare city. A nightmare city full of things that looked almost like people but were transparent and walked right through her as if she weren’t there.

She didn’t know how long she’d been here, trying to figure out how she’d gotten here, where the bus was, where everything else was, but it felt like hours, at least. She was starting to get hungry.

She was starting to wonder if she’d gone crazy. Or if this was what it was like to be dead. And that was before the buildings started to melt into weird, semi-Greek-Revival messes.

It was weird here, and she hated it. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mom. She wanted to quit the track team and never have to deal with anything like this ever again.

“Hello?” called a soft voice.

She whipped around. Up until now, this place had been eerily quiet.

Standing just a few feet from her was a boy, one who could have stepped out of a history textbook. He was wearing something like a cape, and a Greek-style tunic, white trimmed in red. Tangled in his hair was a thin, golden circlet. But the strangest thing about him was the ball of glowing golden string in his hand. One end of it was wrapped around his neck.

“You–!” said Danica, suddenly more furious than frightened. “Did you bring me here? Why?”

The boy shook his head. “I didn’t bring you here. Actually, I’m hoping to help you get out. You and the rest of your teammates.”

“They– They’re here, too? And the coach–?”

“No, just your teammates,” said the boy. He made a face. “You guys kind of… Ran into a story.”

“A what?” demanded Danica, incredulous. She’d also, incidentally, started to back away from the boy.

“A story. Have you heard of Theseus and the Minotaur?”

“What if I don't want to do this?” asked the girl, after Danny had finished explaining. “What if I can’t do this?”

Danny stared at her, a bit baffled. The thing about being a ghost, even half a ghost, the thing about thinking like a ghost… Sometimes it was hard to wrap his head around other perspectives. Especially when his friends, the only people he really talked to, were just as eager to jump in and help as he was.

He hadn't wanted to make anyone risk themselves. He wanted to bring them to safety without that. He also hadn't expected that anyone would just… not want to help.

“Well, I suppose… I suppose you could follow me until I found one of your classmates who could?” he said. “Although… I’m not sure if we can do that with this story. It might be that I have to find someone alone and then they find everyone… In which case you’d just have to wait for them. Speaking of which, how long has this been for you? On the outside, it’s been a few days, but you look a little too good for that.”

“I– What? Days? I haven’t been here for days.”

“Not from your perspective, maybe. Time is weird. Even without all this…” He waved his hand, trying to indicate ghost weirdness in general. “... stuff, even with just the things we can look at scientifically, it’s still relative. Right now, you’re basically in a dimensional pocket. Pocket dimension? Whatever. The point is, is time running at different rates really that strange, comparatively? At least, it made it so that you didn’t starve before me and my friends were able to figure this out.” He raised the ball of golden string, ignoring how the movement pulled on his neck. “Right?”

The girl gave him a ‘why are you using science-fiction terms in what is clearly a fantasy scenario’ look. At least, that’s how Danny chose to interpret it.

He sighed. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Danica,” she said, then looked angry at herself and shrugged. “Or Dani, I guess.”

“Huh, small world,” said Danny. “That’s my sister’s name, too.” Not to mention his. Maybe Theseus’s story wasn’t the only one being echoed, with a coincidence like that.

The girl continued to stare at him, this time with a ‘why the heck are you bringing that up while I’m having a crisis’ look. Probably. Danny tended to make a similar expression from time to time. Usually when the ghosts he fought started having lovers’ quarrels in the middle of a fight.

“So,” he said, awkwardly. “You can come with me, of course, just to… test out what will happen?”

“Oh!” said Danica, suddenly. “Just– Just give me that!” She held out her hands for the ball of string.

Danny beamed, and passed it to her. It glowed even brighter.

“Now what?” she asked, staring at it nervously.

“Now, you need this,” Danny said, taking off the sword and holding it out to her, hilt first. “And then you search for your friends, and when you find them…” He pinched a length of the string between the finger and thumb of her free hand. “You follow this back out.”

Danica was much more reluctant to take the sword than the string. But that was fine. One of the two was for holding things together, the other was for taking things apart. Danny knew which was easier, and which he was more comfortable with.

“That's it. Remember, it's just the members of your track team, okay? The coach and the bus driver got out.”

“Okay,” said Danica. She took a deep, steadying breath. “Okay. I can do this.”

Danny nodded encouragingly. “Yes,” he said, “definitely.”

Danny stepped out of the in-between, back into the alley he'd left Sam and Tucker in. Except, it wasn't an alley anymore, but a thin dirt path between hedges.

He was immediately tackled.

“We thought we'd lost you!” said Sam. Then she pulled back and examined him closely before looking pointedly behind him. “Where're the track kids?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Well. In the story, Theseus is from Athens, remember?”

Sam groaned. “They're having to do it themselves?”

“Yeah. A girl named Danica. Dani. Believe it or not.”

“Wow,” said Tucker. “Really?”

“Really.”

Danny turned to look behind him, tracing the string where it twisted away from reality and into not-space.

Tucker sighed. “This is going to take a while, isn't it?”

It took Danica surprisingly little time to find her teammates. For all the time she’d spent wandering on her own, after she’d accepted the sword and the string, she’d located everyone in what felt like an hour. Some of them were even in groups!

The problem was, she found too many of them.

“Mm,” said Danny, still worried. “Probably. I hope she doesn’t have to fight anything.”

There had been fourteen of them. She knew there had been fourteen of them, because the coach and the driver had both done headcounts, because of the number of people they were allowed to field in each event at this particular meet, and because she remembered that someone had been sick. But there were, including her, fifteen kids now huddled in something that aesthetically hovered in-between the Parthenon and a shopping mall.

She couldn’t remember who had been sick. No one could. But everyone wanted to convince her that it wasn’t them.

Probably because she was the one with the sword.

“I think that if there was anything, it would have gone after Danny when he was searching earlier, right?” asked Sam.

“Maybe,” said Danny. “Unless it was scared of me. I am pretty powerful.”

“And if Danny’s Ariadne in this, he was Ariadne at the beginning,” pointed out Tucker. “The story was already going. Ariadne never fought the Minotaur.”

“Astarion,” said Danny.

“Huh?”

“That’s the Minotaur’s actual name,” said Sam. She frowned slightly. “He was Ariadne’s half-brother, you know.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, slowly. “He was, wasn’t he?”

“Listen,” said Danica, trying to mask the shake in her voice, “I’m sorry, but– But based on everything, you aren’t who you say you are.”

There was nothing she could do about how badly the sword was shaking.

“I am!” said the girl, who couldn’t be there, because Eliza had taken the one place in the 100 meter, and Jaylynn did the javelin, and Lachandra had done the high jump, and no one remembered her competing at all. “I really am, I promise!”

It was convincing, her act. But it had to be an act, it really did.

“Dani,” said Lachandra, “is it really that important? I mean, if we take her with us? We just want to get out.”

“But she could eat us,” said Kevin, who was a bit of a mythology buff on top of being a track nerd. “She could– If this is the Minotaur story– She’ll try to kill us and then–”

“I won’t!” shouted the girl. Her eyes– For a moment, they changed color. Red. Her teeth were sharp, too.

Danica gritted her teeth and swung the sword down.

Danny caught her wrist, panting. He’d followed the string back.

“Wait,” he said, breathless. “Wait.”

“Where–” said Danica, jerking back. “Why–?”

Danny turned towards the ‘Minotaur.’ “Hi,” he said, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. “You’re one of Vlad’s aren’t you?”

Their face shimmered for a moment, and then– It was like looking into a mirror. This wasn’t Dani - his Dani, Danielle - but a boy with red eyes. He wore a chiton like Danny’s, but he looked starved, pale, terrified.

He nodded.

“There is,” said Danny, cautiously, “another story about escaping from the labyrinth. How would you like to be Daedalus?”

“What was that?” hissed Danica, as they walked away from… whatever that was. “Why are you here, now, leading us out, when you couldn’t before?”

“Story is different now,” said Danny, tightly. “And I was leading you out before. Just with the string.”

“What if you get lost?” asked Kevin.

Danny grinned at him. “I won’t. He isn’t trying to keep you in anymore.”

“Who isn’t?” asked Danica.

“Daedalus. Him. He just wanted out, I think. Sorry for– I’m sorry about all of this,” said Danny. “I didn’t want to get other people involved in Amity Park stuff, and I especially didn’t want to get you involved in family stuff, but…” He shrugged, then caught sight of an out. It looked, from this side, like a slightly darker than expected gap between stately white pillars. “Here we go! And I think this one is next to the police station, too, so just, you know. Check yourselves in.”

“Just like that?” asked Danica.

“Just like that,” said Danny. “I will need those back, though.” He nodded at the string and sword.

“Right,” said Danica. She shoved both at him. “I can’t believe– I would have kill that– Whatever– Whoever–” She stopped, looking very much like she wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry,” said Danny again, softly. “But it is over now.”

The New Athens kids walked into the gap and vanished.

The string dissolved into golden, glittering light and then settled in his hands as a pair of equally golden wings. Danny laughed.

“Okay,” he said. He turned, bouncing a little. “I get the picture. I think we can avoid the Icarus problem, being ghosts and all.”

#danny phantom #holiday truce #holiday truce 2023

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corinnetheanime · 4 months ago

Text

A little more fun stuff from the world-building of SoS, where I do power-scaling because why not, I may or may not like that stuff when done right. Rank is relative, more or less based on how powerful a ghost is on both the quality, quantity and destructive/creative potential of their abilities/nature.

So here is the ghost ranking by the ASCC ([REDACTED] Spirit Classification Codex) and the GIW’s EPS (Ectoentity’s Power Scale):

E-Rank (or Scale 1):

Box Ghost (normal)

Ectopuses

Skulker (without suit/base form)

Penelope Spectra (weakened)

D-Rank (or Scales 2-5):

Amorpho

Box Lunch

Dani Phantom

Johnny 13/Shadow

Kitty

Klemper

Lydia

Skulker (with suit)

Sydney Poindexter

Technus (base form)

Vultures

C-Rank (or Scales 6-8):

Aragon (human form)

Bertrand

Danny Phantom

Dora (human form)

Ember McLain

Lunch Lady

Wulf

B-Rank (or Scales 9-12):

Aragon (dragon form)

Dora (dragon form)

Box Ghost (when powered up by Pandora’s Box)

Bullet

Desiree

Ghost Writer

Penelope Spectra (normal)

Technus (enhanced forms)

Youngblood

A-Rank (or Scales 13-19):

Behemoth

Fright Knight

Frostbite

Hotep-Ra

Observants (council)

Vlad Plasmius

Walker

S-Rank (or Scales 20-30):

Clockwork

Phantom (̴̢͕͓́̃͛͑̌̇̈́͒̒́̃̓͆̐̓̓͝͝͝͠͝��a̷̧̼̙͖̠͙͎͔̫̺̩͍͋̒̀̇͝w̸̙͕̜͈̫̓̃̊̊͘͝͠à̵̫̞̮̻͖̜̥̟̟͐͑͂̓̈́́͒̈́̓̎͋̈́͛̏͐̇̅̈́͛͗ķ̵̡̧̠̙̤͚̥̮̭̼̹̰͎̜̱̜̤̱͕̖̩̙͑ȩ̵̛͉̞̞̮̣̣̠̪̹̲̋̈́̈́̊̓͐̌͆̋̉̊̋̍̄̿̈́͘̕̕͝n̸̨̧̼͎͓̣̘͉̜̬͙̘͖̝͙͓̣̺̲̦̹͆̓́͗̅̿̑́̐̄̀̇̈́̕͘͠ę̵̜͈̖̝̍́͊̆̋̈́̓́͊͑̾̊͋͒̔̉̎̿̚̚̚d̴̛̛̛̛̯͉̞͋͑̔̉̃͛͑̄͋́̌͗̉̓͝͝͝)̵̢̥̼͉̮͚̟̮͚̙̠͎̫̲͈͖̣̲̎̏͋̐̇͊̋̏̓̓̐̏͘͘

Dark Dan

Observants (High Tribunal)

Nocturn

The Ghost King

Vortex

Undergrowth

There are currently no ghosts in recorded human history higher than the Ghost King’s reading on [DATE REDACTED) at Ĺ̸̮̤͖̖̩̋̾̎͌́̕͝͝͝ͅę̴̨̲̖̱͚̤̜̪̜̲͔͓̥̼͍̌̈́́̇̽̽̒́̇͠v̵̢͉̖̗͈̺̰̰̈́̿̿͐͋͊̈͋̂͛̇̈̓͊̕͜͠͝e̸̢̢̖̤̫̟̙̗͔̹̔͂̋̆͊́̔̒̈̀̄͘͝͝͝��̧l̵̨̢̖̣̖͎̱̰̔͆͛̇̀̆̾͌̔͝ ̶̪̥̥̹̅̋̈́̀͊3̷̡̥̝̼͎̜̔͋́͗͗̿̔̑̕͝ͅ0̷̤̪̺̳̠̠̭͈͖͖̈́̌̉͝–̴̢͔̅

System override by the D̸̛̞̜͐͊͐̇̌̈̀͑͋̉́͑̋̔͗̓͛̒̉̀̀̀̆̂̈̊̍́͒̈͛̕̚͝i̷̢̨̨͙͎͕̫̮̣̣̝̥͍̠͉̞͖̫͉̥͔̩̱̫͔̥̞̙̦̻̓͛̑̐̋̈͊͆̇͂̊́̒̿̀̏͆͆͊̇͌͐̋̀̚͜͝͝͝͝͠ŗ̶̨̧̺̩̮̤̗̻̬̯̳̞͉̌̋͛̊̿̈͂̓́͊̃͛̒̈́̒̀̄̓̇̋́͆̀͒̉̇́̕͘͠͝͝ȩ̷̡̡̨̛̩͚̗̙̪̲̮̼̰͍̹̖͙͚̮̬̭̬̞̥̘̫̝͎͉̳̦͖͔͈͕̦̼̫͔̜̯̩̩̼̝͇̞̍̂̋̽̏̋͛͊͐͋̅̔͊̀̏̈́͗͒̈́̇̓͑̓̅̂̈́͐̄͘̕͜͜͜͝͝c̵̡̢̢͔̫̝̹̯̭̯͓̻͔̬̼͈̖̼̖̬͙̤̗͇̗̱̦̈́͂̾͛̋̃͑́̊̄̈́́͜͜͠ͅͅͅţ̶̺͍̭͖̟̮̟̣͖͒͒̑̔ͅͅơ̸̧̢̡̢̛͔̤̦͖̳̹̤̝̟̤̲̞̗̖͖̝̮͔̜͇͔̩͚͎̥̠̟̤̙̯͓̩̖̳̖̒̌̓̐̂͊̈́͐̈́̾̈́̈́̿̇́͗̊̑̓̾̓͒͛̃̃̈͌͂͊̿̂́̄̀̄̒̆͊̕̕̕͠͠ͅͅr̸̡̧̢̰͈̹̗͓͖͚̠̹̤̩̯̙̜̩̣͕̟͙͖͐̇̏͛̈́̈́̒͒͑͊̊̌̒̏̑̽̆̌̓͗̈́͘͝ͅ’̸̹͖̯̟͍̩̲̪͖̯̭̐̈́̉̃̇̃͋̐̀͂̈͑̀̈́̌̈́̒̚ͅͅs̶̡̡̨̛̙͔͉̠͕̖͇̩͔̮͓̖̜͙͉̝͚̣̦̖͕͔̞̯̼̮̫͉͇̤̼͓̭̤̫̙̹͕̞̘̋̾̃̎̀̍̀̍̏̐̄͌̑͆̂̂͋͛͑̅͌͑́͗̅̅͐̈̓͆̉̀͘̕͜͠͠͝ protocol.

Cl̷̢̞̝̰͈̫̫̤̎̅̇̆͆͘a̵̡̺̤̫͕̩̳̩̜͍̅͜͜s̸̙͉̱̺̈́͒́̿̿̓̚͠s̷̘̘̲̲̰̯̉͌́̀͛͂̆̓́̕ͅį̵̡̰̞̙̦̮̥̹̼͙̈́͆̇͝f̴̥̣͍̩͎͋̾̄̆̓̕í̵̢̞͐̈́c̸̺̼̻͕̞̖̎͜å̸͇̞͉̥̖̜͎̳̻͎͇̈́̈́̈̈̋̂͒̂̚t̶͖̿̑ĩ̴̢̨̤̻̗͈̬͕͉͚̗̇̈ò̴̥̭̦̮͕̺͉̾̂͗̐͂̅n̵̡̜͍̠̦̳̄͊͛͂̃͝ ̷̡̱̘̭̲͕̻̼̿̐̔̈́͗͛̈͛͠r̶̡̙͖͎̭̤̦͇̟̳̣͚̬̐́͗̅̈́̚ḝ̵͚̭̑́̾̈́̒͘q̴̨̬͎̰͈̱̼̭̫̣̙͚̂̒̓ư̷͎̗̮͍̫̭͈̯̗̠̰̗̈́i̸̧̪͉̤̰̻̘͐͛͆̒̀́̎̆̐̎̽͝ͅr̸̢̨̤̟̝̥͓͎͎̻̋͆̐͒͗ē̶̢͍̪͓̺̖͍̬͇̖͍̞̂̍́͠d̸͓͂̄̾̔̉̾̀̅͒̀͠ͅ ̴͓̪̤̼̺̂̃̅ͅf̴̭͎̺̟̀͂͜o̶̠̲͗r̵̢̢̭͕͎̰̞̳̙̈́͗̓͛̊̿̂͑̅́͑͜ͅ ̴̻͖̝̠͒̇̅͒̓͑̕͜͝[̶̛̪̭͕̞̜̯̥̬̊͗͋̆̋̃̿̓͗̚͠Ŗ̸̢̝̩̫̱̙̩̒́̈́͌̈͋͆͐̋̚̕Ê̷̝͉͕̜͎̤̠̣̻̯̍̇̅̈́́͗̀̀̍̕͜͝D̴̮͉̯̼̘̭̅͗̑̄̽̅͊͘ͅͅĄ̶̡̫̰͍̭͈̻̪̜͒̂́̊̃̋̏̐͗͗̊̕͝Ç̷̼͓͍̦̹̭̩͔̥̰̰̩͑̉̚Ţ̶̟̘̝͍̔̀̄̍́̉͐͐͝͠͝͝ͅE̴̡̮̻͂̌̍̎͗͛̈̆̄͝D̸̠̺͊̋̉̏͒́̿͝]̸̛͉͓͕͖͉̈́͌̋̓̈́̽̉̄̇͘͘.̵̢̮̜͕̰͚͛̓̅̍͛̔͌̀̓̅͝͝͠

E̷̮̣̐P̷̧̽̓̐S̵̥͈̾́̏ ̶̘͕̩̀̇͆R̷̦͇̓ȇ̶̝͈a̴̖͎̹̎d̵͓͊̅̐ͅi̸̺̲̜͂͝͝n̶͍͐́̅g̸̯͒s̶͙͕̀͒̓:̴͔̈̄ ̸̢̳̫̈̑̋I̸͈͐n̵̟͕̓̐́ͅc̴̡̳̾͋̅o̷͇̥̜͒̋n̶͖͇͂̚̚c̵̫̩̲͌l̴͂̕͜ụ̶̳͊s̵̬̾ī̷̭͚̾͝v̵̫̭̺̋̾̾e̴̜͋.̷͇̜̳̾̔ ̶͙͑̌͌ R̷̢̧̨̗͇̤͈͙͖̘͉̮̪̜͎̙̫̳͐̀͗̓͋̇͒́͑̈͊̽͝͝͝ͅḘ̵̢̥͖̳͙̮͇̑̔̋͜D̶̡̘̟̻̮̣̭̩̒́͌̆͂͛Ą̵̢̢̢̞̮̦̖̯̘̱̦̈́̏͐̀̈́͑͜C̷̡̧̡̹͚̝̖͕̝̺̭̪̜̰̲͕̟̙̎͝ͅŢ̶̢̞̹͈̲͕̫̩̠̫̒̽̈́͐̅͗́̄̅Ē̴̢̨̧̹͚̠̥͚̬̪̙̗̯͈͇͕̲͆̊̍͝ͅͅD̵̛̛̯̖̺̯̥̲̋̓͋͛̃̈́̀̈̌͑͝]̶̡̡̨̬̝͈̰̱̙̙̜̙͖͉̅̊͆̋̅͆́̎̓̚ͅ ̵̣̾͋̀̇̒̔̃͆c̵̢̛̦͐͋͑̃̽̐̋́͘ l̸̲͉̖͖̭̖̽̿̄̀̎̉̇̇͐̚ơ̷̡̬͍͆̃͑̍̔͑͋c̵̳̩̬̺̀̂̒̇ḳ̸͊e̴͖̭̪̦̭̣̔͋̌̌̽͊̓̚͜͜d̴̛̼̪̜̹̯̔̈́̾͌̐͒̿̌ ̷͕̘͇̗̇͑͊̍͠ö̴̺̬̲̻̦̝͈̼́̋́̽̃͜ͅu̸̺̪̲̱̖͎̜̍̌̽̊̽̿͆͠t̵͕͑̇͐ ̷̦̯̰̥̂a̵͈̮̝͝t̴̢̛͎͈̘̀̍̏͆̌͂̍͝ ̶̡̻̠̠̞̲͇̘͑̑̅̂̀̾̕L̶̡̲̻͔͚̻̯͂̀̀͂̈̆͊̌̓͗e̸̢̖͍̬̥̬̐̈̀ͅv̶̖͔͙͙̺͋̀̈̈̔̄͑͌͘ͅe̵̼͎͔͍͒͂̑̈́l̴̢̬͉͈̉ ̶̛̼͕̱̟̹͉̋̔̈́̑̑̈́̕͜͝1̷̨̛͈͉̬̣̘͓̩̙̤̭̮͉̥̥̮̞̣͛͆͛̎̆͑̏̏̇̈́̅̉̉͗̾͛͆͂̀̉͗̄͒̅͌̓͘̚͜͠͝ͅ0̶̨͎͖̞̬͈͕̳̬̳̥͍͕̦̭̱͕̺͖̏̿͊́̉͝0̴̧̡̛̛̟̯̻͙̰̺̯̪̜̗̰̱͈̝͙̤̘̘̝͔̪̲̘̰͍͑̽̊̽͂̓̉̇́͆́̈͌̆̾͐͋̽̓͑͒̒̐̕͜͝͝͝͠+

S̶̡̨̨̪͓̼̱͍̯̱̠̘̥͖̳͉̏̅̇̉͒̌̈́̔͘͘͘͝S̵͖͕͍̆͌͒̈̒̌̈́̒̓̿̀̈͊̅̅̄̑͋͗̚̕͠+̷̨̡̛̜̗̙͈̱̻̪̜̱̥͙̻̝̘̖̖̩̫̍̄̂̒͒̓̿̏̎̃́̊̈́̕͘̚̚̚͜ͅͅ ̴̢̧̡͍͍̣̘͍̩̘̭̘͕͇̘̙̠̒́͋̄̾̊́͌̿̃̈̚ͅR̸̢̧̯̜̩̤̘͕͓̠͎̾͆̏̏́̂̒͒̔̋̔́̄͂̉̈́͘͝͝͠ạ̴̼̠̝̩̪̤͖̼̩͚̯͙͖̟͇̭̲̑̅͜͜ͅň̴̡̮̭̫͕͇̲̹̦͇̪̣̯̌̄͠ͅk̴̛̟̺͌͒̄̊̃̋̓͑͑̉̄̌͗̓̔͌̒̔̿͘͜͝͝:̷͇͉̹̳̙̟͇͋̎̈̈́͛̀̎͒̀̑̄̐̋̚͜͠ͅ R̸̢̨̢̞̳̠̹̤̯̹̪̜̙̖̼͔̭̳͍̭̳̹̞͔̍̎̽̑͋͊̓̏́̐̄́̈̑́̃̇͌̊͑̋̃̊̀͑͘̚̕͜͠͝͝ͅͅȨ̴̨̘̹̞̈́̅̀͆̄͂̓͒̈́̃̿̉̿̐̓͋̀̀͋̓̀͛͆́͗̊́͆̓͘̕͘͝͝͝Ḑ̵̢̛̻̣͈̥͚͉̼͓̖͇̞̲͍͍͉̹̦̱͎̤̙̼̮̓̂̉͂̓̓̊̈́̆͛͐͑̆̄̐͒͘͜A̸̡̧̨̡̧̙̱̥̘̥̮̹̘̜̮̘͇͈̖̩͖͚̗̥̞̼̪̣̻͕̣͚̳͂͋̑̉̀͐̀̀̽̔̂͛͐̓̃̿̏́̾̊̇͐̂͐̈́̍̄̐͌͂̍̀͘̕͜͜͠Ç̷̢̧̫̱͇̱̩̝̜͈̬̂̌͑̈́̽̏͆͒͊̈́́̎͊̑̍̈́̓͋̀̽͑͒̈́̕̕͘͠Ṭ̴̢͈̱͕̝͙̭̳̙̹̓̀͊̄́͋͂̊͛͊̆̾̽̈́̎̕͜͝ͅͅE̶̡͎̰̻͎̗̱̤̠̘̬̗̱̝͈̘͚̫͛̅̋̅͑͊̓͌̐̈́̽͌̔̇͂̇̋͝͝Ḑ̶̡̜̮͙̬̯͔͙̗͕͔͎̜̺̖̠͖͔̠̻̠̰̹̩̞̣̼̰̰͍́̓͂̃̓̉̑͑̏̅̈̓̈͂̈́̏̐̍͘͠͝

#danny phantom #danny phantom hc #hc #power scaling #ranks #ranking stuff #meh I did my best for like 20 minutes #worldbuilding #fun stuff hehe #might as well give y’all a treat while still working on page 5 #my procrastination should be a meme at this point #soul of stardust #subject to change in the future because I haven’t seen the show in a while so this may not be entirely accurate I dunno

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faithful-grigori · 2 years ago

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”#there’s probably an even funnier option I’m not thinking about, #99% sure it’s Danny’s locker, #but it’s really embarrassing saying something as a fact and then turning out to be wrong, #so just guessing it’s Danny’s locker”

Hear me out hear me out hear me out

So in the theme song, we see Dash shove Danny into (what I’m guessing) is Danny’s locker, and then Phantom pops out of it

What if this is a normal occurrence? Normal enough that everyone’s starting to notice that Phantom is always popping out of Danny’s locker?

Combine that with everyone hearing rumors of a ghost that haunts one of the lockers (Poindexter) and they all come to the conclusion that the ghost in the rumors must be Phantom, and Danny’s locker must be the one he haunts!

After that, I can’t figure out what would be funnier: 1) Dash keeps trying to get Danny to switch lockers with him so he can become besties with Phantom, 2) the popular group starts a campaign to force Danny to stop using his own locker because “he’s disrespecting Phantom’s haunting area”, or 3) Valerie starts trying to camp out by his locker with ghost hunting equipment

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny fenton #dash baxter #valerie gray #sydney poindexter

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qonsolequeen · 2 years ago

Note

Ooo so what's the difference between a Wraith and a regular Ghost?

Well, for starters they're the Ghost equivalent to Titans. There's a power hierarchy in the Ghost Zone just like Mewni and Earth.

Shades are the weakest Ghosts, little form to them and are your generic Ghosts like the Ecto-pusses, Cujo, the Ghost Animals from Vlad's cabin in the woods.

Spirits make up the majority of the Ghost Zone populace, with your standard Ghosts like the BOX GHOOOOOOOST!, all the Ghosts Desiree created (Femalien, Terminatra Nightmerica), Sydney Poindexter, Lunch Lady.

Phantoms are the other majority of the populace. Way stronger, more variety, and the likes of which are most of Danny's classic rogues: Skulker, Desiree, Spectra, Ember, and Fright Knight to name a few.

Wraiths are akin to Titans and are the top dogs of the Ghost Zone. Y'know, real powerful guys like Nocturne, Vortex, Undergrowth, Frostbite, Clockwork.

Then, of course, there's the ruler of the Ghost Zone. Pariah Dark during the present time, Envie in the future AU. There's no real fixed title. Pariah's called the Ghost King, "Tyrant Dark," King of the Ghost Zone. Envie chose "God Queen" to supplant Pariah's previous titles. Most call her that title. Most.

#thepaladinrambles #tales of mewni #callyieverse #anon #tales of mewni future au

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dnpanimationstudioclone · 2 years ago

Text

Wanted to see what it'd look like if my Sidney had a 50's TV glitch affect. Got the idea from a cool fanart involving Sid raging out from @letswonderspirit

Here's the Fanart it's super cool!!!!

What do u think? I'd love to know💖

#danny phantom #sidney poindexter #dp fanart #phanart #phandom #dp sidney #sydney pointdexter #sidney pointdexter #sydney poindexter #phart #my art #dannyphantom

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brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics · 2 years ago

Note

Just read through your night at the school fic and was wondering if you wanted to like lore dump or something

I really enjoyed it and trying to pick out which ghosts corresponded to each event (like the box ghost in the cafeteria with lunch lady)

I'd love to!

I used 4 spirits in that fic...

1) the Lunch Lady, who the trio bothered in the kitchen and got her to try and throw something at them.

2) Sidney Poindexter who Danny was communicating with in the hallway (and who warned him Tucker was getting attacked)

3) Spectra, who was sucking the joy out of Tucker and leaving him miserable.

The fourth one is one that I think some people missed just because he's always playing second fiddle to Spectra, but the entity that attacks Danny when they're trying to get to him is Bertrand.

I also used the word entity rather than ghost there, and that's intentional. Spectra and Bertrand aren't really what you'd consider stereotypical ghosts in this. They're energy vampires / demonic entities, rather than a lost spirit.

They know EXACTLY what they're doing and they're loving it.

One thing that I wanted to include in the fic but I didn't really find a good spot for it, is that Spectra and Bertrand are continuing to bully Sydney. At one point there's a comment about Danny saying that the Lunch Lady wasn't malicious but he never said that Sydney wasn't.

The way Danny's powers work in this AU is that when he approaches where a spirit is, he can sense they're there and clock their vibes. A spirit CAN hide from him, but not perfectly. He'll still know they're there but he might not know exactly where they're at.

So Danny thought Sydney was a violent ghost because he gets to see him, and can sense Spectra and Bertrand hovering around their favorite play toy/meal.

#danny phantom #A Night at the Highschool #fanfic #asks

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kristencsummerlin · 2 years ago

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More school uniforms. If you have noticed the pattern I use for them is a cent sign. This is because Nickolas High School's mascot is a Nickel. So the cent sign is their only choice of pattern besides plaid and fishnet lace.

Also due to the school having Aquatic beings attending. To keep them hydrated they can simply ask for water and the roof will spray them with water. Sadly though, this means if any student says water, liquid, or aqua they will also get sprayed with water. And if students say "I don't know." They get slime poured onto them. Get the reference? Lol

Anyway more uniforms

Star: Blue and Pink

We start with Star from Danny Phantom. I gave her the last name Thompson because I gave everyone last names.

Spike: Black and Blue

The phandom community has made Spike Jazz's friend and I LIVE for it. My sister was laughing at his tie.

Sidney Poindexter: Blue and White

Like Ember he has a uniform even though he'll attend the school like one chapter/issue. Still worth drawing the uniform. He's also the last of the Danny Phantom characters.

Jenny Wakeman: Blue and Light Blue

Now we're on My Life as a Teenage Robot and those characters.

Sheldon Lee: Dark Blue and Blue

The nerd who has a major crush on Jenny. He's more than likely gonna wear his big coat over.

Brad Carbunkle: Blue and White

Jenny's bestie.

Brit Crust: Black and Orange

The Crust cousins. I think they would have a rivalry with Paulina and Star over who's more popular. Not all popular students get along lol.

Tiff Crust: Black and Orange

The cousins also HATE having to wear uniforms because they love showing off their fashion.

Misty: Purple and Blue

Like Ember and Sydney. She's probably only show up in one chapter as the antagonist or one of the antagonists.

Don Prima: Brown and Orange

This man cried over a scrap on his shoes. You just gotta love him.

Jenny's Exo Skin: Dark Blue and Blue

Again, one time villain. Still she has a uniform.

Glenn Wakeman: Dark Green and Slime Green

Jenny's younger plant cousin. He's like a preteen Swamp Thing. I imagine him hanging out with Dani.

#danny phantom #nicktoons unite #nickelodeon #nicktoons unite highschool au #danny phantom star #danny phantom spike #sidney poindexter #my life as a teenage robot #jenny xj9 #jenny wakeman #sheldon lee #brad carbunkle #brit crust #tiff crust #mlaatr misty #dom prima #exo skin #glenn wakeman

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thefloatingshoppinglist · 7 months ago

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Some of my favorite "UH, HEY, BACK UP - HEY BACK UP AND UNPACK THAT -" episodes:

One of a Kind: Skulker is going to do *what* to Danny? This episode also confirms that Danny's something of an oddity amongst the dead, but not quite rejected like he is with humans.

Splitting Images: So... Sydney Poindexter was a kid who was bullied in the 50s... and his ghost haunts the school to protect other nerds from bullies... that's his unfinished business... oh no

Bitter Reunions: You're telling me that an old college 'friend' of the Fentons was hospitalized for 20 years because of an accident that Jack caused and is now so bitter that he wants to kill him and steal his wife. Oh, and he's a half ghost now too and wants Danny as his son/apprentice. Great, so kid-friendly wow

My Brother's Keeper: Spectra, in order to keep her little ghost/human shell body young forever sucks the misery out of teenagers in therapy making them more miserable and depressed on top of their already normal teenage angst and depression. Also, The "WelL we cANt coMpleTelY VApORizE iT DonT YoU aT lEaSt Want To InSpeCt THe remaIns?" We do know that Danny has it worse on the misery-sucking thing because of course he does it makes sense

Control Freaks: There's a traveling cirus family that's presumably been wandering around the country with an ancient ghostly artifact that controls ghosts and they used it for their acts. Huh

Reign Storm: There's a ghost king. Insanely powerful and oppressive so the ghost zone has been without a real ruler since he got sealed away by 7 powerful ancient ghosts. Could there be a new ghost king? WE DONT KNOW!!!!

The Ultimate Enemy: ... Just, so much.

Kindred Spirits: Man do we all love that scene where clone Danny reaches out to Vlad as he's dissolving or what

So I have been watching Danny Phantom for the first time ever with my friends and I'd kind of previously known about its reputation as a show whose fanbase dives a lot more into the lore than the show is willing to. And I guess I hadn't really understood why until now (I just finished Season 2!). Here's my sort of rambling thoughts on it.

Danny Phantom isn't a show about the horror of ghosts and the dead coexisting in the human realm. It's a show about dropping the most out of pocket lore implications you can imagine on people who in turn say things that would kill a therapist dead equally out of pocket, and then neither are addressed but the watcher has to live with the ghost of the plot that is right behind them but they can't turn around.

DP is a little hit and miss in places, but the very thing that drives people nuts about it is actually I think maybe its greatest strength: it really pulls off show, don't tell effectively. How much of that is intentional is up for debate, but the best episodes kinda leave you wondering, or sputtering like "UH, HEY, BACK UP - HEY BACK UP AND UNPACK THAT -" Is Danny's human body technically alive somehow, or is he a walking corpse? Does Danny have a door in the Ghost Zone? Were Vlad's clones feeling and sentient as they melted into ectoplasm, despite Danny's guess that they weren't? What does it say about Danny that he still erased his parents' memories after finding out they'd accept him as he is?

I think the genius of not answering these questions directly is that it's both funnier AND scarier not to. We can laugh about how fucked up it is and kinda hold our heads like "bro.... did they really just imply that, holy shiiiiiit", and that's really consistent with the emotional core of the show as this knife's-edge dance between teen comedy and horror superhero. Fully explaining the lore or being more direct about how the information is conveyed by and to the characters tips that balance and changes the show into something else, for better or for worse. And I really earnestly like it as it is, even if it's very of its time (sexism.......)! It's a really fun show with some depth to it.

Anyway, I can't wait to watch season 3! I sure hope all these wonderful qualities I like about it hold up!

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coolrahulsarin · 2 years ago

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Cooks, Muscala and Gill: a three-for-one drop in the Doppelgänger machine

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Cooks, Muscala and Gill: a three-for-one drop in the Doppelgänger machine

We have been running the Doppelgänger statistical machine for the last month and today is the most important test of the year. Can frayed duct tape and shredding thread keep things together while running the numbers? three (3) players who will potentially be on the roster for part of the 2023-24 season? Let’s find out.

Quick note: The Doppelgänger statistical machine takes into account age and a variety of rate-neutral statistical categories, such as minutes played, usage, preferred shot types, offensive and defensive rebounds, assists, steals, blocks, turnovers, fouls , annotations and a general measure of the player’s production in relation to the era.

Since I have three guys, I’m limiting top-five contests.

Xavier Cooks

Xavier Cooks joined the Wizards later than usual because he was busy in Australia’s NBL winning MVP and leading the Sydney Kings to a second championship in as many years. He was a strange acquisition because he was already 27 years old and while he is a very good basketball player overall, that is not the same as being a good basketball player. nba player. He’s got the game of an NBA center, but at 6-8 and 183 pounds, he’s more like a wing or big guard build.

To the bars:

Andrew De Clercq, 2000-01, Orlando Magic – DeClercq was a 6-10 backup center who didn’t block shots or defend well. He had 10 seasons in the NBA, two or three of which were pretty decent.

Jerome Moiso, 2003-04, Toronto Raptors: French big man, who somehow became the 11th overall pick in the draft. He played rarely and poorly: 1,392 total minutes in his career spread over five seasons.

Joel Kramer, 1980-81, Phoenix Suns – Throwback alert! Sometimes I think the Doppelgänger machine just makes up players, but apparently he was a 6-7, 203-pound power forward and center. In the late 70’s and early 80’s. He was a third first-round pick in the 1978 draft (63rd overall), and lasted five seasons. This year of competition was the best.

christian felicio, 2018-19, Chicago Bulls — Brazil’s great big man Felicio was below average for six seasons (all with the Bulls). His last season in the NBA was 2020-21.

kurt rambis, 1987-88, Los Angeles Lakers: The white male who wore Poindexter glasses while on the court for the Showtime Lakers. In the modern game, he would almost certainly be a center, or he would have to learn to shoot 3s, or both. Basically an average PF for his time. Curiously, his best season is 1989-90 when he went to the expansion team Charlotte Hornets.

Other notable competitions for Cooks: Derek Strong, 1995-96; James Singleton, 2005-06 (yes, that James Singleton, but this was a season with the Clippers); Trevor Booker, 2017-18 (with the Sixers); Edjuardo Najera, 2003-04. It is interesting that the compositions of the double machine for cooks are mostly from previous decades.

Anthony Gill

By all indications, Anthony Gill is an all-time elite mensch and teammate. Abroad he shot well. In the NBA, his shooting has diminished and he seems reluctant to pull the trigger. It is likely that he will be on the roster for the third season because he is that’s good as a supportive teammate, leader, and quasi-assistant coach.

donald royal, 1997-98, Charlotte Hornets and Orlando Magic: Royal was a decent rebounder who didn’t shoot 3-pointers or make plays. He played several seasons but never got above average.

Damien Wilkins2010-11, Atlanta Hawks: Domonique’s nephew didn’t make it to the NBA until he was 25 and still played 10 seasons, most recently in 2017-18 after four seasons playing in China, Venezuela, Puerto Rico and the D League. In truth, it was more flash than substance: he still had opportunities, but it didn’t help much.

troy murphy, 2010-11, Boston Celtics and New Jersey Nets – Murphy had some good years with the Golden State Warriors and Indiana Pacers. This was the season that he hurt his back and was never the same.

chucky brown, 1996-97, Milwaukee Bucks and Phoenix Suns – Selected in the second round in 1989, Brown played 13 seasons without much shooting ability. I have it approaching the average in a season: 1995-96, the year before the competition season.

Todd Murphy, 1993-94, Detroit Pistons – Third-round pick in 1986, Murphy made appearances in five NBA seasons. His second season (with Minnesota) was decent, but I guess he suffered injuries that limited his availability after that.

A few other Gill compositions that seem to fall into the “sort of right” category: Thanasis Antetokounmpo, Ben Poquette, Michael Curry, Major Jones, Larry Stewart.

Mike Muscala

A big officer who shoots well, and… that’s all. Another good guy and good teammate, liked by everyone who works with him. Muscala was a second-round pick in 2013 and has 10 seasons and five teams (not counting the Wizards yet) on the odometer. He basically hasn’t been bad for a backup center. At age 31 last season, production of him dipped in both Boston and Oklahoma City.

Jonas Jerebko, 2017-18, Utah Jazz: Big guy, decent shooter, decent rebounder. He played eight seasons as a sub-par substitute.

Patrick Patterson, 2019-20, Los Angeles Clippers – Patterson, the 14th pick in 2010, seemed to have the potential to become a good player. When he was healthy, he was reasonably productive, but he missed much of several seasons with injuries. When he finally became reliably available, his performance slipped, perhaps due to the cost of all the injuries. He still played 11 seasons.

davis bertans, 2021-22, Dallas Mavericks and Washington Wizards: Should I have included a trigger warning? Bertans was a fantastic shooter the Wizards acquired basically for nothing. He had the best season of his career (the only one that was even average in my analysis) in 2019-20. Which turned out to be 27 years old. In a contract year. Washington gave him the contract, he didn’t work during the COVID hiatus, and his production plummeted.

louis rashard, 2012-13, Miami Heat – Lewis had been the prototype of a four, and would likely have thrived in the modern game. He was a standout player on some good teams. Naturally, the Wizards got him in the expensive decline phase of his career. (He joined the deal to get rid of Gilbert Arenas and leave Gun Gate.)

kris humphries, 2015-16, Washington Wizards and Phoenix Suns: Pretty decent player who had some good years in New Jersey and Boston. The Magi caught him after those seasons in which his performance was declining. One reason this season looks like competition for Muscala: After shooting 2-for-26 from 3-point range during his first 11 NBA seasons, Humphries abruptly shot 23-for-67 in just 28 games with the Wizards that season. . Who says Randy Wittman wasn’t an offensive innovator?

#Cooks #Muscala #Gill #threeforone #drop #Doppelgänger #machine

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