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[ghostharasser]

All purpose open post for Dipper Pines of Gravity Falls. Top levels below

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[ghostharasser]

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[ghostharasser]

Ryslig continuation

[ghostharasser]

[Well. They did not find Mabel and Ford, they did not find a way out, and they did not find a counter to whatever the monster business was all about. All in all, it’s been a pretty terrible time for both Dipper and Stan.]

[Despite days of searching, even Dipper’s stubborn optimism was bound to give out. With the sinking realization that they were trapped here alone for the next foreseeable future, the two had to worry about a few more pressing issues. They didn’t exactly have anywhere to go, or any connections. Frankly it’s a miracle neither of them had been arrested for the sheer volume of petty thievery they’ve both resorted to in order to get by, but frankly it was starting to wear on Dipper.]

[To keep from going nuts from stress, Dipper has turned to collecting every scrap of housing advertisement he’s been able to find. Fliers, newspapers, classified, etc. He’s combing through them for anything that might be reasonable.]

Hey Grunkle Stan, this one says its on the edge of town and missing half the roof. I bet we could get away squatting there a few weeks before they noticed.

[It’s a shame reasonable mean free. Man, adult budgeting was stressful.]

[renametoken]

[ Stan's used to holding on to a tiny, stubborn spark of hope even in the face of miserable odds. If he can live through 30 years or ceaseless work netting him nothing but failure after failure, then he can hold out hope about escaping this stupid place just a little longer.

He's also used to being homeless and jobless. It's the sort of thing that never really leaves you, even after 30 years with a stable living situation and a steady source of income. It hadn't been so bad this time--at first. It had even been sort of fun--at first. Teaching Dipper how to shoplift, dine and dash, spot security systems, pick out easy targets for scams, tell when a crowd is about to go sour... Definitely not wholesome activities, but family bonding is family bonding and Stan hadn't let himself fuss about it too much--at first.

It's not until their second night that he starts to worry. It's not like Dipper can't handle a little bit of roughing it. He'd survived for days in Bill's apocalyptic hellscape all on his own. But there's something different about this. There shouldn't be, but being homeless not because a murderous triangle dressed like Mr. Peanut turned your town inside out, but because you simply don't have the money to have a home is just a little too prosaic.

It's exhausting. Stan remembered that much, but he's had so many really, really low points in his life he'd forgotten that even the not-so-bad parts still suck. And that's what has him worried - this is the 'not-so-bad' part. They'd both eaten recently before ending up here. They're both in okay shape. It's not too cold outside. There's lots of public buildings, gyms, late-night cafes, and 24 hour convenience stores. It's exhausting, but things could get so worse with no warning at all.

So on that second night, once he's sure Dipper has somewhere secure to stay, he heads out. He's way too old for his preferred 'I need money and I need it right now' method (illegal boxing matches) to earn him anything but a broken jaw, but he knows plenty of other tricks. He liberates a few people of their wallets and uses the cash to buy in to a few round of pool, poker, blackjack, rummy... whatever he can find that people are playing. He cheats, counts cards, plays up being more drunk than he really is, and even wins a few games fair and square. By the end of the night he walks away with enough cash that he and Dipper don't have to dine and dash for breakfast (though they still do, of course), and repeating this process earns them a room at the cheapest, seediest motel that doesn't have anyone actively committing crimes on the corner.

The whole time, of course, he maintains a casual, unaffected demeanor, treating it like an unusual outing more than anything. If he lets on that things aren't fine then the kid will really start to worry, and that's the last thing either of them need. So while he doesn't have high hopes for Dipper's house hunting project, he also doesn't tell him to stop, figuring anything that keeps him occupied is good for him. That ends up being a prudent decision, because the house that Dipper shows Stan actually looks pretty promising. ]

Well whatdaya know? Good eye, kid.

[ Stan's definitely crashed in worse places - and less money spent on a hotel means more money they can stash away for a real place to stay.

... Ugh. When did he get so responsible? ]

Let's just hope no one else beat us there. Rather not have to chase off any bums.

Demonic Guardian’s AU

[ghostharasser]

[Dipper slept.]

[He slept like he hadn’t slept a blink in his life. Not only had he gone roughly ...what? 30 some odd hours without sleeping, but he spent most of that being possessed by a lunatic brain demon who gleefully threw his body down a flight of stairs among other things. By the time he was back in his body again, he barely made it to the car before he was out.]

[He wouldn’t wake up again for almost a day and a half at best. Not only the physical stress of what he went through shutting him down, but the stress of an actual possession also seems to have really pushed him to the limits. While him not waking up when prodded in the car seemed to be concerning, the Pines family brought him into the house to properly rest for now, with Mabel patching up all of the various scrapes, cuts and fork holes he was covered in.]

[Stan seemed dismissive, but quietly he kept close to keep an eye on things, in case it was worse than whatever lame excuse Mabel gave for her brother’s state.]

[In the meantime, Dipper dreamed.]

[tetractys]

[Bill sits outside of Dipper Pines' dream, visible like a lit window full of color and sound seen from a darkened and quiet street, and fumes.

(He remembers the hand of a much older entity grabbing him the instant he was kicked back to the dreamscape, shaking his incorporeal form like a rag doll.

"IDIOT! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?")

Let's just just... get it over with.

He digs pins and needles in, slides in sideways to step inside the illusion being created in the kid's mind. He's very good at this. He's very smart and very good at what he does and he is GOING to find a way out of this old rule, because nobody in a trillion years has made a seal tight enough to keep Bill Cipher in - or out. Gslhv prwh qfhg pvvk tvggrmt ofxpb, gszg'h zoo.

He just needs to buy some time, first. Adjust the plan, a little.

In the mean time, whatever Dipper was dreaming about, there's now an invisible triangle in the middle of it. ... I mean, he's not going to appear YET, of course not, he's got to figure out an Entrance. Show up somewhere without making a huge deal about it? Just because he's had a setback doesn't mean we completely abandon all class and taste, jeez.]

Woofs

[ghostharasser]

[It’s remarkable how badly that had gotten out of hand. What began as one of his normal paranormal investigations, one that shouldn’t have actually been dangerous, snowballed into probably the worst night of Dipper’s life.]

[Of course he had werewolves on his list. Soos had given him a very easy lead early on, when he brought up the mailman. So, because it was something he was already aware of, he’d sort of scooted it onto the backburner to look into when he had a rainy day or something. It wasn’t until Grunkle Stan started showing some ...odd, suspicious signs that he started to slide the werewolf topic to the front burner. It still wasn’t quite enough for Dipper to launch a full scale investigation, not yet.]

[No, the reason he was out in the woods, in the middle of the night, was for something far stupider. He was chasing after a scampfire.]

[Turns out, bright, flickering lights like one might see from a campfire, scuttling about the forest ground like a spider on pixie-sticks is extremely interesting to the predators of the Gravity Falls forest. Particularly to bright red wolves the size of a modest SUV. Dipper had never quite felt fear the way he did the moment it locked eyes with him. He only had a moment to make a decision, and unsurprisingly it was to lure it away from Mabel.]

[It wasn’t like he was going to outrun it, and he only had so many places to hide before it would sniff him out, so he did the best he could, and managed to keep ahead of it just long enough that he hoped he gave Mabel a chance to run (hopefully she took it). One misstep was all it took for their little game of chase to be over. He hit a raised tree root, which sent him rolling off of a small ledge. The wolf was on him in an instant, and in pure terror Dipper raised his arms to protect his face, only for its enormous jaws to tear right into him.]

[He remembers nothing after that, just pain, darkness, and the feeling of sinking as a very distant howl echoed in his ears.]

Re: Woofs

[charlastan]

[Full moon number two with the kids staying in Gravity Falls went off without a hitch.

Stan had been nervous about letting them stick around for the whole summer - he loves the kids to death, but he didn't exactly want to risk their safety by stick around him. But, on the other hand, he has a secret basement now and as long as the kids never find out about it they'll never wind up in harm's way.

At least, that was the idea.

He was in the kitchen bandaging up his arm when Mabel burst through the door and startled the hell out of him. She didn't even seem to notice what he was doing though, as she babbled about-- something about the woods, and getting separated from Dipper, and-- Oh.

His stomach sank at the very real possibilities. Within minutes, the two of them were racing back out to the woods. Despite feeling like absolute hungover garbage, Stan could still feel the pull of the moon, particularly with the situation as dire as it is. So, instead of having to stop himself every few minutes, Stan hoists Mabel up with one arm and sprints through the woods faster than any normal person should be able to.]

Dipper? DIPPER!

[Stan quiets and listens. Really listens, beyond Mabel's breath and heartbeat, deep into the woods. Then, he takes off sprinting again and doesn't stop until Dipper is within eyesight. Mabel wriggles out of Stan's arms to go throw her arms around her brother.

But Stan? Stan can't stop looking at the bite on Dipper's arm.]

(Post canon)

[ghostharasser]

[Well, that was that. They were both on the bus, heading towards the highway. About seven hours from now they should be back home, safe in Piedmont. The goodbyes they had to make were heavy on Dipper’s heart, but in a funny way, he wasn’t sad. They’re leaving Gravity Falls, but all the friends they’ve made, adventures they’ve had, were all still fresh in his mind. Leaving was bittersweet, but in a good way.]

[The note that Wendy gave him is tucked lovingly into his vest pocket, and Dipper finally pulls his eyes away from the window after a few miles of no longer recognizing the scenery. He reaches down into his backpack to pull his journal out. It was brand new, fresh, and bearing the symbol of the pine tree on the cover. Originally his emotions on the symbol and what it represented were a little mixed, almost entirely because of the way Bill used it as a name for him, but he’s since realized its a title to be proud of. It was something that was meant to do good with, a weapon against that very same demon. So he’s decided to embrace it.]

[He begins writing, but before he gets swept up in it, he passes a look over to his sister sitting beside him and nudges her with a smile.]

Hey. You okay?

[sparklehorror]

Yeah. I'm okay.

[It's true enough, but Mabel sounds resigned as she says it, as she often does after one of her huge bursts of emotion. Things that send her hauling butt to Sweatertown often aren't so bad anymore once she's been given a chance to get used to the idea, and she's had some time to make peace with the inevitability of saying goodbye to their summer in Gravity Falls. Just as she'd been able to look at the idea of Dipper staying with Ford with a smile, after her initial outburst. Still, Mabel is the sort of person who can look at a yarn ball and see a soulmate, and loss hits her hard.

One hand is fisted in her skirt, and the other arm is wrapped securely around Waddles. To be honest it's the pig that's keeping her as calm as she is. Knowing she'd have to leave him had been bad enough, and the way he'd clung to her skirt had threatened to swamp her in heartbreak all over again. The relief of having avoided that leaves her feeling small and quiet, but not too quiet to talk to her brother.]

...it's gonna be weird, huh? Getting used to things not being so weird weird.

mulletstan

[ghostharasser]

from here

[It takes him a minute to respond. He barely parsed Stan's words as anything more than distant sounds. He tries to hit upright, but that immediately brings him nothing but intense regret. His vision swims and his sinuses beat a steady rhythm through most of his everything.]

Fine

[He sounds anything but fine, but he didn't want to alert Stan? Throw a wrench in their plan? Getting sick would make things complicated for them, right? So he had to be fine. Dipper reaches around for one of the rolls of toilet paper he stole at a previous stop and tries to do something about his nose. It's a very pathetic sight as he tries to pat around the floor of the car for something that's sitting in the chair next to him.]

Where are we?

[He puts effort in sounding better, and goes for normal small talk.]

[that idea we discussed] i'll sort out icons later

[ghostharasser]

[This place is weird. It's spooky. Its trapped in a timeloop and there is an ever pressing existential horror ever at the periphery of ones vision. Somehow that is not the strangest thing that's been plaguing Ford, currently.]

[Ford has been left a strange series of notes and codes to crack. They turn up in strange places, meticulously planted for him to find. The culprit is never there, never traced. Like they somehow move invisibly??? Either way, the first one was easy enough to crack. It was done in a simple ceasar cipher, with three letters back, typed on unremarkable paper. You've cracked one, can you crack them all?]

[Someone has issued Ford a challenge. Each code gets steadily more difficult. A different ceaser, a switch to A1Z26, and then to vigenere. The messages themselves do not immediately seem to make much sense, but they tend to pose questions. What is the difference between a dream and the waking world?, or Are realities as cut and dry as their designations, or are there infinite realities within that one reality? What is the limit of their theoretical potential?, or Any opinions on calamari?.]

[The most recent note that has been left in Ford's shoe departs from this slightly, by having something uncoded written at the top. It reads: If you crack this one, you'll probably figure out who I am! If not, that's okay. Meet me in the observatory around midnight either way. Sogr ga sws lau, Yfrmt Mbpxe Xcep.]

[Looks like his mysterious penpal plans to tear the curtain down! Maybe! Or maybe someone is messing with him! Time for him to find out!!]

[that dipper and danny college au we talked about years ago.] [Enjoy this icon of an au older dip]

[ghostharasser]

[So. Highschool had been conquered. Thank fuck that was over with. Even though Dipper and his sister had faced it with their chins up and shoulders back, it still wasn't fun, but they did it, and now they had the next leg of their lives ahead of them.]

[Luckily they both got into the same state university, even though their degree paths were wildly different, and they did have some plans of transferring off to more specialized schools if the opportunity arose, but for now they were happy to start here. The college had good programs for both their interests and it wasn't too far from Oregon. All in all there was a lot to be optimistic about.]

[Dipper gets through his first week of class pretty easily, and finds the atmosphere of the campus pretty relaxing actually. He was worried this would be High School 2, but no. Everyone is here doing their own thing.]

[Speaking of which, Dipper did have one thing that constantly baffled him, and that was his roomate. Danny Fenton was a nice guy, and over all seemed like the exact kind of somewhat-introverted nerd that Dipper wouldn't mind being friends with. His degree had something to do with wanting to work for NASA which was awesome but... hm.]

[there's something in the back of his mind that tells him something is off about him, he just can't quite put a finger on it. Maybe it's something supernatural? He didn't think he was a vampire or a werewolf, or maybe some kind of fae....eh.]

[He's been awake for 36 hours working on this paper. Maybe he should get some sleep. Or drink another redbull.]

[Dipper has this thought as he wanders out of his room towards their dorm's minifridge.]

'Sup Danny.

[...]

[Danny was reading as book.]

[Danny was reading a book while floating four feet off the ground.]

[the_halfa_it]

[There was no greater relief in the world to Danny Fenton than being able to go to college. His life had started being absolute nonsense at 14 when he half-died, and basically hadn't let up since. He'd thought he was about to get a break when most of the usual troublemakers slowly started acting more like friendly rivals than anything - spurred by his still growing powers, maybe. And sure, he had actually been able to pull his grades out of their nosedive for a while there.

Then along came Clockwork with "Happy 18th birthday, by the way you're King of the Infinite Realms now" and well doesn't that just throw a wrench into everything.

Thankfully, he'd been reassured that he needn't take full office just yet. He had the stupid crown and the stupid ring and the less stupid authority, but it seemed the Zone bigwigs were willing to let him pursue his human interests and life first, thank the Ancients. Plus, you know, being able to declare Amity Park under the Ghost King's protection had proved to be a much better deterrent than just him playing superhero.

And somehow, among all that chaos, he'd actually managed to get into a decent college, somewhere about as far from Illinois as he could manage. He could actually start to do something towards his dream of becoming an astronaut, and he didn't have to put up with his parents and their ghost hunting 24/7. Sure, Sam and Tucker aren't here - they'd each ended up at different universities, but they were getting to chase their dreams too, and as long as Danny has their group chat he thinks he can manage just fine.

Mostly, he's spent this first week being high on just being somewhere where nobody knows either him OR Phantom. No one knows how crazy his parents are, nobody's debating whether the local ghost boy is good or evil, he's Just Some Guy, and sure, he's some guy with ghost powers, but no one has to know that. He's got a pretty cool roommate - obviously, anybody nicknamed after a constellation is immediately cool in Danny's eyes - who also seems to be Just Some Guy, and Danny entirely plans on Just Some Guying his way through his entire college education.

He's doing a pretty good job of coming off as normal so far, he thinks. He's definitely gotten better at excuses, for one. It's always chilly by his end of the dorm? Must be a draft, but it's fine, he likes colder temperatures anyway. The locked medicine box in the minifridge, full of packets of ectoplasm since this place isn't as full of the stuff as home? He's got meds he has to take regularly, and it's really hard to get a refill if they get stolen, you know how it is. Accidentally jumpscared someone by making zero noise while approaching? Haha whoops, yeah he doesn't make a lot of sound when he walks people tell him that all the time! Wasn't intentional, promise. The white streak in his hair? Runs in the family, but hey, at least it looks kind of cool, right?

He did not account for hyperfocusing on his textbook so hard that he started floating. With a faint greenish-white glow around him. Nor has he really clocked that he's doing it yet.]

'Sup.

[He just lifts a hand in a short wave, not even looking up.]

forrrrrrr stan.

[ghostharasser]

[Dipper Pines was a guy if dubious esteem in the city of Trench. He'd done tons of work with ghosts, exorcisms, and all sorts of mysteries surrounding the town. He is, as all Pines are, frequently at the center of trouble, getting into things they shouldn't, poking their nose where it doesn't belong, and sometimes writing checks their asses can't cash.]

[Hard to say if this is the situation this time, but the month was that of the one belonging to the Doors. Something super weird was happening around town- rifts were opening up. Sometimes they sucked people in, sometimes they dropped people out. He and Ford were currently looking into this when one opened up right under Dipper's feet, and before he could get out his uncles name, down he fell.]

[With a loud rush and total darkness, Dipper bodily crashes into something before he hits the bottom. Dazed and disoriented, he opens his eyes to find ...chaos around him. People shouting in alarm? And-]

Ugh. Everything hurts.

[And with that, with no warning, a rip in space time opened up over the Sascrotch and out tumbled a tall, older teenager dressed like he escaped some steampunk fair. He looked....familiar maybe? Wacky!]

Re: forrrrrrr stan.

[charlastan]

[Dipper's surrounded by a tour group of at least a dozen people - some are gawking at him, many are looking up at the hole that wasn't there before, and others are demanding to know what's going on, but they aren't asking Dipper. They're asking the tour guide at the front of the group, the infamous Mr. Mystery himself.

Stan had admittedly jumped with everyone else when the kid fell out of literally nowhere, but now he's ignoring the questions and thinking on his feet. After a beat, Stan turns to address the crowd.]

And here we have our final stop on the tour, the uh-- [Think think think.] --the Time Lad! Fresh from Ye Olde Gravity Falls Ren Faire 2012!

[Then, as a definitely too loud "stage whisper" to the crowd:] I'd tell him Ren Faires have never been cool, buuuuuut I wouldn't wanna break time and space any more than he already broke it.

[This calms the crowd down enough for them to laugh as if Dipper is any other attraction, and a couple of tourists even snap pictures! Everyone has a grand old time except, presumably, for Dipper.]

Alright, alright, gift shop's that way folks - make sure you buy something on the way out!

[And he shoos them all to the exit door, waiting for them all to go before turning his attention back Dipper, gesturing with his 8-ball cane.]

So, you wanna explain how you almost murdered the Sascrotch?

For Stan

[ghostharasser]

Hey, it's been a shitty couple of weeks. There are all kinds of reasons: rampant corruption just tearing through the family, Ford being kidnapped by the zealots, Mabel's brush with beasthood, and then of course the exorcism.

Dipper was alive and recovering, but that doesn't mean he's been in the best shape. His corruption had been something of a slow burn that had been harder to notice until he'd made some terrible mistakes and ran full tilt into total self destruction. It was terrifying, looking back on it. Reading the entries in his own journal as he got more and more insane.

And now he had consequences, deep ones that were keeping him up at night much later than his usual nocturnal nature as a paleblood. Out of pure frustration and spite, Dipper dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen. While he'd had some luck walking around a little upstairs, it was still pretty dicey for him to go too far, but the thought of just staying in bed, staring at the ceiling, for another night, was enough to make him try.

He figures, maybe he'll just sit down at the table for a while, write in his journal, and he'll feel tired enough to sleep and shuffle over to the couch. Should be fine. No one is up, probably.

Probably.

As Dipper clears the stairs with surprising success, he realizes with horror that the kitchen light was on. Shit, and he knew if he went back up stairs it would take him another fifteen minutes. Ugh, now what.]

[charlastan]

[As a family full of insomniacs to varying degrees, nocturnal natures don't change very much. Dipper might have had better luck at the crack of dawn. Stan doesn't even have the paleblood excuse - he's just used to having to be awake at night for reasons, but now those reasons are less "I need to save my brother from the interdimensional portal I pushed him in" and more "I need to make a sandwich and see if I can use my bare hands to toast it."

He has a sandwich pressed between his hands, one flat on top and one on the bottom, with a his blue flames giving a low-ish heat. It shouldn't need too long.

Unfortunately he's not expecting company, so having a sudden guest in his peripheral vision makes his flame flare up suddenly and then immediately die out - a fun new supernatural startle response that even seems to catch Stan off guard.]

Kid, what are you doing up? You're supposed to be--

[Resting, but that requires touching the reason why Dipper should be resting, and he doesn't really want to get into all of that. The two of them have been so awkward around each other since their fight, but Stan's still been fussing here and there - including how he pivots after an awkward beat.]

Uh. Anyway. Want a sandwich?

[He holds out the one in his hand, only to realize he charred it to a crispy brick. Oops.]

...............I can make a new one.

Dreamwalker training!

[charlastan]

[Stan's changed his mind. Or at least, he's changed it since the last time Dipper was in there.

Since he's a half-decent lucid dreamer, he offered to let Dipper intentionally enter his dreams, so he could practice a little without sneaking into an unsuspecting person's head the way a certain triangle would. He doesn't know if any of his tips for actually making himself lucid and altering his mindscape actually apply with the blood type differences, but eh. Couldn't hurt, right?

The main structure is still the Mystery Shack, after all this time. It hasn't been "home" for almost a couple of years now, but after living there so long a part of him is always going to have security there. It took a long time for this to take shape at all and it will take even longer for it to fully change - though, there are scattered bones here and there for additional protection.

The exterior is still black and white but the contrast is different. There are more warm grays than there were, and the trees don't close in so tightly. If Dipper listens, he can hear ocean waves, even though there isn't a sea in sight.

Before, the yard was in shambles. Now it's still a mess, but it's a mess that's a little more typical of the Shack. It isn't overgrown anymore, but there are still some childhood things scattered around. The swing set that had been broken beyond repair has been fixed with copious amount of duct tape, nails, and string. It might not be fully safe to sit on, but it looks like someone's been working on it. Tools still linger in the grass. The 8 ball moon still shines bright above.

The porch still trails up and off the ground in spots, as many things in his mindscape do. But this time, there's a little guy sitting there, waiting. His eyebrows twitch impatiently, but he keeps watch. Waiting for something to happen.]

[ghostharasser]

[It seemed like an offer he couldn't pass up, honestly. He had noticed that Stan seemed awfully lucid when they were trying to chase Bill down waaaay back when, and though he wasn't there, He figured that Stan had to have pulled off some kind of con in his head to get him to stay long enough to get erased. He was all very curious! And he figured, if anyone could give him some guidance it would be Stan.]

His feet touch ground in about the same place they did before, years ago. He looks around quietly a moment, taking in the differences. He logs a lot of it away, for now, and starts to approach the Mystery Shack.]

[This is nice and familiar. Nostalgic. Dipper is certain he'll never see the real one again, so he does smile a little when he comes close.]

Grunkle Stan?

[Huh. Maybe he's inside? Or maybe it'll be a little more like before where he's passively existing around him.]

[Finally he sees the Stan Crab waiting.]

...No Refunds?

[That's basically all these little dudes said before. Maybe if he communicates like them, he will earn its trust and be taken to his uncle.]

Waste Pines Find a New Life

[ghostharasser]

[Dying had been strangely anticlimactic. The events leading up to it, had been anything but, however when he felt his life finally slip away, there was a great exhaustion in his bones, in his body, and even with all the worries plaguing his mind, all he could be was relieved.]

[He hoped Stanley and Ford could stay safe, probably they would do better without him anyway. He could not deign to hope he would be reunited with Mabel, but he wished anyway. He had so much he wanted to say to her. he had so much to make up to her-]



"What do you think that one looks like, Dipper?"

Mason blinks, and suddenly there is a bright blue sky above him. Fluffy white clouds smattered about, with a warm sun shining brightly against his face. It's the most beautiful thing he's seen in a long time. When has he last seen a sky like this...? He can't recall. He's spellbound for a few long moments before he feels someone shove his shoulder.

Mabel giggles at him. She looks bright, happy. There isn't a single line under her eyes, not a stain or hole in her clothing. She grins.

"Were you daydreaming, brobro? Was it about anyone?"

Was he? he suddenly can't recall either. What about the sky had him so transfixed? Ah, and where was he before- "No, nothing like that. Sorry, what did you ask me?"

His voice sounds strange to his own ears, too. He looks down at his hands and can't recognize them.

"Psh, you don't have to be sorry. Stop worrying so much."

"I can't," He admits, "I don't know how to. All I'm good for is worrying-"

"Woah, whoa," She takes his hands and tugs them over, forcing their eyes to meet. She looks concerned, but her voice is steady. "It's okay, everything's going to be okay, alright? If you can't trust yourself, you can trust me."

He nods, feeling something upset rising up within him.

"Everything will be okay."


[Mason wakes with a start, and then chokes down the sob that threatens to tear itself out of him. Despite his best efforts all he can do is curl up in the corner of the abandoned looking structure he woke up in and cry like he was a kid again.]

[Once he's nearly dehydrated himself, he decides maybe to take stock of his surroundings, which he finds with dismay, to be exceptionally hot desert. He is still clothed in the rags he remembered dying. While his side has closed up, leaving a nasty scar, his clothing is still marred by the blood stains. While concerning, nothing has Mason's nerves more worked up then realizing his mask is nowhere to be found, and he's being forced explore a place full of strange people of which he knows nothing. The desire to hide, and stick to the shadows is so strong in him, but the exhaustion wins out instead. He shuffles into one of the local taverns, gives something of a withering look to the bartender, who whistles and gestures that he take a seat. Mason sits down with the full weight of centuries clinging to him and asks for a glass of water.]

1/2

[stananigans]

[Stanley's death hadn't been quite so calm. He and Ford did what they were told, they stayed together in the mist as long as they could manage. The mist was thick though and Stanley's eyesight isn't the best on a clear day, so all it took was one second for Ford to slip from his grasp and into the dangerous fog. He did his damnedest to catch up, but it wasn't long before something tripped him, ripped into him, and left him. Everyone does eventually.

There's no moment of relaxation or letting go. He struggles on the ground with only the smallest twitches of movement, trying to summon the strength to get up. Get up, get up, get the fuck up--

Something approaches him and he can't run or hide. Instead of attacking though, it crouches down and yanks off his gas mask. Inhaling mist immediately makes Stanley cough up...fluid? No, blood. It's gotta be blood.

Whoever took off his gas is just staring now and not doing anything, so with great effort he forces his eyes open. A blurry, broad-shouldered man is hovering over him. There's barely any light, but he can still make out the glint of glasses.

His breath catches in his throat, but he's been silent so long the words don't come. He just chokes on copper and metal and broken sounds.]

D...ah. Ugh...

[Easy, kid. I've got you.

The man sounds so far away, and he stubbornly thinks no, he doesn't, he hasn't got shit, but he feels himself being hoisted up in the air anyway. The world spins. ...When was the last time someone carried him?

His memories get hazy after that. He thinks he muttered more to the guy, but maybe he didn't. It's all distant under a dizzying swishing sound in his ears, like he's floating on the ocean...]

2/2

[stananigans]

"Stanley! Wake up!"

A shadow enters Stanley's field of vision and focuses into Ford, with bright blue sky behind him. Waves crash hard against the beach and the occasional seagull caws. The air is salt and seagrass and it's just like he remembers it.

"Heh. Sorry," he says, though his own voice sounds so weird and alien to him. "Must've dozed off..."

They're on the Stan-o-War, still beached and broken, but with a couple years of repair put into it. Ford is both younger and older than he should be, and Stanley catches himself staring. Ford does too though, and his expression softens.

"Are you okay? Maybe we should get you out of the sun..."

"NO! No, I'm fine! I just...don't worry about it, I'm good. I'm good if you're good. You're...you're good. Right?"

Ford raises an eyebrow, wholly unconvinced, but he holds a hand out to help Stanley up to his feet.

"I knew I'd find you boys out here!"

Stanley snaps his head up and their mother is there, in her famous red dress, walking as close as she can before the turf becomes sand and eats her high heels. There's a camera in her hands - she was always taking pictures, and snuck out to their boat project for some shots on multiple occasions.

All of the air leaves Stanley's lungs. He almost doubles over, like he was suckerpunched.

"...Ma? MA!"

He hops over the side of the boat and runs so fast he falls over in the sand.

"Wait, wait! Lemme get a shot of you two!" she calls out, holding the camera up to her eye. "Ford, help your brother up--"

Ford does as told and slings an arm around Stanley's shoulders, but Stanley still looks like he's seen a ghost and doesn't know whether to be happy or sad or everything all at the same time.

"Ma, wait! I need to talk to you! MA!"

She doesn't come closer, but the sun seems to shine a little brighter. There's a cool breeze. Ford pulls him a little closer with that one arm into something both isn't a hug and isn't not a hug. The urgency is fading from every inch of the moment and it all feels oddly calm.

"Aw, my little Stanley! Don't worry! Everything's gonna be just fine." She grins behind the camera. "Now, say cheese--!"



[And then he wakes up flat on his back, with tears in his eyes. The dream leaves a sort of hopeful afterglow, but he still picks himself up almost immediately to look for shelter. He's not sure what happened, he doesn't get what happened, but he has to get out of the open before he gets hurt again. It's a lot easier to tackle this methodically than sit around and feel things. Plus he has people to find too, and the thought of not finding them makes his stomach turn inside out.

He spends a few hours scouting and trying to figure out what is and isn't kosher here (metaphorically, of course - he'd eat an entire pig right now if he had one available). It doesn't take him long at all to catch on that this is a world where money is exchanged for goods and services, and even less time to figure out where he can get some caps of his own.

When he enters the tavern to finally get something to drink, there's only one other person there besides the barkeep - someone with a mop of long curly hair he'd recognize anywhere at this point.]

M^ay--

[Stan flushes red and covers his mouth before he can even finish. What the fuck was that noise?! He coughs, hoping that no one heard that, and decides to just take a seat next to Mason at the bar, and wave a hand in his peripheral vision. Hey Mason! It's Stanley!!!]

Dipper to Dipper communication

[ghostharasser]

[sleutherhero]

Dipper is at his stupid locker trying to get out his jacket (the only thing he keeps in there because he usually just carries all his stuff in his book bag), wishing it had a pickable lock because after a summer with Grunkle Stan and then a year of being on a team that included a few professional thieves, he can probably pick anything now.

Stupid combination lock. Even when he jiggles the tumblers with his teke nothing clicks.

There is no transition. He's suddenly somewhere else, half conscious, waking up with a head that feels full of cotton. There are metallic sounds - light dinging, like metal chains swaying slightly in air currents and metal groaning and creaking from subtle temperature changes. The smell of rust and dry rot is in the air.

Totally reassuring, normal smells. That's all you're smelling, his semi-conscious brain supplies.

He jolts the rest of the way awake, sitting up suddenly. There's a jangle of metal and his left hand feels strangely weighed down.

With blurred vision, he looks around at an industrial nightmare. An abandoned factory maybe? But there are no windows anywhere.

Totally reassuring normal sights. He tugs at the strangely heavy hand, hears a jangle of metal chain, and realizes it's bound somehow.

...And feels another hand brush against his from the movement.

His head darts to the side, he sees brown hair and for half a second he wonders if Mabel is here with him. If that's the case, it's a good thing. Twice the number of twins, half the escape time.

But It's not Mabel. It's just some guy. The angle he has - and the other person's age - means he doesn't quite get a clear look at his face, not enough to figure things out.

Dipper shrieks at it being a stranger. The shriek quickly turns into a cough-cough-ahem as he tries to pretend he didn't shriek. (Superheroes don't shriek! Or, even when they do, it's a shriek that's commanding, okay? A commanding shriek.) He shakes the weird glowing chain attached to his wrist to rouse the person there.

"Wake up, man. I need to know whether I'm supposed to save you or kick your butt." He waves his free hand in a very bored 'I've got places to be' kinda way. "I'm trying to get to my D, D, & MD club meeting."

witch mountain feral changeling au

[ghostharasser]

[The past month had been kind of a whirlwind. After years of being shuffled around because, frankly, not a single couple would want a weirdo like him, and that was fine he didn't want anyone anyway, he finally met the one person he did want to stick by, and it had been his long lost twin sister. How did they know? They just did, just like how they both could use the same kind of weird psychic powers. These are things that just made sense to them, and had the moment they saw each other.

After being in systems his whole life, someone took an interest in them and adopted them both outright. It seemed like maybe things were going their way, but Dipper was easily suspicious, and could definitely tell something wasn't right about it. This person wanted to use them, for sure, and they weren't going to have any part of it. They made their escape one night under the cover of night, but they wouldn't get very far.

Dipper remembers a weak ledge, and the pouring rain. He remembers falling and Mabel's scared voice in his head. He wakes up again the next morning thinking probably he shouldn't be alive, but there's a strange glow on the ground under where he'd been laying and a tingly feeling in his fingers. Something had healed him...?

That was all well and good, but now he had no idea where he was, and Mabel was missing. She was missing and far enough away he couldn't reach out to her. That silence in his head after getting comfortable with sharing it with Mabel made him feel empty in a way he didn't care for.

He needed to find her and that's all there was to it. He just...needed to figure out where he was, first.

He ends up down the mountain until he finds a weird little shack in the woods. He decides maybe here is where he'll rest for now, and find out where he is. Maybe steal some food? It's a shop, it looks like so maybe if he's careful with the window latch...]

HELL YEAH

[charlastan]

[It's a pretty average day for Stan, after a less than average night. He makes up the difference with coffee that has a small glimmer to it, and seems to slowly stir on its own.

It isn't quite time to open the shop up yet, not that he expects it to be terribly busy this time of year. He looks as human and normal as they come - human hands, human eyes, human girdle under his human suit.

Suddenly though, his big ears twitch. Something's outside, messing with the window latch. He huffs, and projects his thought to whatever little critter is out there.]

Ralph! What the fuck did I tell you?! Raccoons stay outside and outta the garbage!

[And just in case it isn't the local raccoon (or the local raccoon decides to ignore him) Stan grabs for the nearest long, blunt object - a broom.]