sticksandbones | Out in the night all alone, in the way out there

[Dipper left in a hurry, and a lot of that was because if he stayed much longer his powers would really go out of control. Between his own anxiety, anger and frustration, Stan's had mirrored his almost the same and filled the room. He had no plans of backing down from their fight, but his paleblood empathy made the choice for him and that's all there was to it.]

[As he storms several yards from the house, Dipper lets out a groan of frustration and resigns himself to his trek to the Inn. Though, as he walks, the argument lingers in his mind, and the worse he feels. Stan's never yelled at him like that before, he sure of it, which makes him feel both validated and lousy for pushing him.]

[Running off like a scared kid also must have made things a hundred times worse, and now he has to deal with eventually coming back and having to explain why he freaked out. Ugh, and he just left in his pajamas, so now he's freezing cold and about to come stumbling in dressed like a crazy person. Cool!]

[He makes it to the Inn and heads straight for his room only to realize he didn't have his roomkey. After smacking his head against the door in frustration, Dipper comes back down stairs to just. Flop in the lobby by the fire. It's fine he'll just sleep here tonight or whatever.]

[ If his lil bro didn't look so miserable, the dog curled up behind a couch - close enough to the fire to stay warm but far enough with the couch as a barrier to prevent anything from triggering him - would comment on the choice of winter wear.

Instead he gets up, shifts into his werewolf form, and moves the distance to drop like a heap of bricks onto Dipper. Fire be damned. Family needs smothering. ]

You look like a sad wet kitten all alone in a box in a storm, yo. Sup?

[A testament to how out of it he was that he did not notice Beat earlier and also did not see him coming until he had an entire brick house of werewolf on top of him.]

Oof! Wh- Beat?

[Hello he did not expect this, and also he wiggles a little under him. S-Sigh. Sadly he is just too smol.]

I'm fine, everything's fine.

[Yeah no.]

[ Sorry Squidboy, there's no moving this mass of werewolf. Boneless and massive, he lays like a furry brickhouse, flopped inelegantly and panting a little.

At least he's warm? ]

Hm. You know peeps smell diff when they lie? It's kinda a sharp scent, like lemon juice in the nose. But it's cool if you don' wanna talk 'bout it.

[ He won't pry but he will seem like he's trying so squish the misery out of Dipper, even as he scratches his belly idly. ]

[He sighs.]

Look it's ...not a huge deal okay? I just.

[He wriggles a little more so he can kind of sit up a little. At least get some of Beat off his lungs.]

Grunkle Stan and I got into an argument and I left to get some air.

[In the middle of the night while its like 3 degrees outside.]

[ The wiggling will make Beat move enough to let Dipper up. But just a bit. The dog is very physically affectionate and, frankly, Dipper walked in in his pajamas. He needs to be warmed.

Especially when Beat hears the two got into an argument and Dipper stormed out. ]

Dude, shit, musta been somethin' if you took off in your jammies. Ya gonna give yer tentacles frostbite, yo.

[ He drops a large paw hand on Dippers head and ruffles, forcing that already messy hair into a catastrophe. ]

You wanna talk 'bout it? Or you wanna get some food from the inn kitchen an' bitch 'bout adults bein' stupid?

[No, he honestly appreciates it. He spent a whole netbook post complaining about the cold so he's truly suffering right now. Beat is warm.]

...Food sounds good. I'm probably not sleeping for a while. We can talk about it, it's just. It's complicated.

Psh, bro, when aint shit complicated?

[ Beat'll get up, then grab Dipper up like he's a feather and drop him onto his shoulder. Then pad them both towards the inn's kitchen, tail wagging. ]

Whatchu want? I can make a mean meat sandwich.

[ Sandwiches are his specialty cause you just pile good tasting stuff onto bread and have at. He doesn't even bother putting Dipper down as they enter the kitchen. He just. Starts going through the cabinets and fridge. ]

Edited 2024-12-18 06:49 (UTC)

True that.

[He's got him, there. Anyway Dipper is so used to being handled like this he just lets Beat do what he does and he hangs onto his shoulders while they rummage around the kitchen.]

That sounds pretty good. [Pause.] What kind of meat do you put in it, though.

[Look. Beat's a werewolf so he has to ask.]

Human.

[ He says it so casually but his tail is wagging, and his ears are going down to the side and his muzzle is crinkling up in that haha way. Then he breaks into a full grin, tongue lolling out as he begins gathering things. ]

Nah, c'mon, sometimes I just want whatever counts fer beef here. Or patrami. Or ham. Man.

[ Plap! Onto the counter things go and he begins making sandwiches. At least it's meat from the general stores which means, you know, edible for all. Whatever it is. ]

Don' worry, it'll only have a bit of dog hair in it.

[The way he wasn't going to question it until he caught him grinning at him-]

I'm sure I've had worse. [About the dog hair.]

Honestly meat is still kind of a novelty. Did I tell you how in Trench keeping livestock was so hard that most people just supplemented mushrooms for protein instead? If you wanted a hamburger you had to have mad connections.

[ He pauses mid whatever-it-is onto bread, turning his head to squint at Dipper the best he can with the dude on his shoulder and having a snout. Tongue blepped a little. ]

... Ain't gonna lie, suddenly the pen'sula ain't soundin' so bad. Yea, sure, we had the whole violently turn into a monster thing. But at least we could go down the block an' get a burger no issue.

[ He heaves a sigh. Man. He misses burgers. And hot dogs. And curry. And ramen. And corndogs stuffed with cheese. He also lets Dipper continue to avoid talking about the issue as he slathers whatever condiments his nose tells him will go good with the sandwich on. ]

... I think this is weird forest deer meat anyways, so like... still a novelty I guess?

I got used to it, I guess, but honestly the thing I hated most was how we couldn't grow coffee without using blood magic and even then it wasn't good.

[He's avoiding it for a little bit!!! Until Beat is done!! It seems rude to get into the heavy family stuff when someone is busy cooking. assembling.]

I hope its no one Moder knows. That would be pretty awkward.

[ Coffee gets a face out of Beat. Blood Coffee gets an even bigger one. Gross made grosser. Okay true to be fair he will drink coffee with tons of milk and ice in it but!!

Then snorts a little. Carefully. Not onto the sandwich. ]

Bro she seems the type to be circle of life 'bout it. Eat, be eaten.

[ He smashes the top of the sandwich down, smooshing it so it's not too thick so he can cut it. It looks messy. Condiments oozing out the sides. Smells decent though? Do they have plates? He looks for plates. ]

Whenever we finally figure out world hopin' portals, you gotta come visit Tokyo. 'Spacefically Shibuya. You will flip yer lid.

[Look he understands. Dipper does not drink black coffee for the fun of it, he drinks it because it puts him closer to seeing through dimensions. He's got stuff to do and his flesh prison can only do so much without help.]

That's true. That's good because venison is like, genuinely tasty. I'm-

[That sure as hell is a sandwich Beat has made. He ponders over this mess as Beat looks for plates and decides no, what he was originally gonna say still stands.]

I'm real excited about this sandwich, dude.

[But talk of Japan gives him a minute to think.]

It sounds awesome. It's like, a huge city, right? I've met so many people from Japan its kind of nuts, so I've definitely been curious.

Bro trust me on this. The nose knows. This shits gonna blow yer socks off.

[ Plates acquired, Beat slaps the halves down onto them and carries them over to one of the kitchens tables. Sets them down, then reaches up and moves Dipper from his shoulder to drop him into his chair. Like a toddler getting ready for dinner. ]

Man, I ain't surprised? Dunno 'bout the rest of the world, but I know Tokyo gotta hella high con- uh... condensation of Composers an' Angels an' shit. 'Cuz 'parently it's all by city or district or somethin'. Got memories of three years of bein' Josh's City Watcher an' I ain't recall nonna the shit he told me.

[ Sigh. Enough about that though cause Beat's sitting himself down and instantly mashing his half of the sandwich into his maw. ]

[This sandwich is so big and he is so smol. He's considering how to tackle it from a tactical standpoint. He watches Beat destroy it and wishes for a second he could open his mouth that wide. Alas.]

Oh, so you actually worked with Josh on his games? He's told me a little about that. I guess when you have a high population density you would have to divide things up a little differently. I wonder how many California has.

[A place like LA is probably divvied up like Tokyo, but he imagines boring ol' Peidmont probably shares a border with the nearby towns.]

[He decides to just try and take a bite. Surely this will go fine!!]

[Hm.]

[ Hey! HEY! He knows that face!! ]

Yo whatchu mean by that?!

[ He pauses to sniff his sandwich. It smells great?!

Okay, yes, to be fair Beat also thinks rolling on dead skunks and sticking his face into the trash is great too but! There's no way Dipper is making that face to his sandwich!? Rude!! He snorts and sticks out his tongue and chews more. ]

Ye- an' nah. Real me di'nt but 'parently when I got memories of some other me, I did? But less on workin' on his games wid him an' more Batmanin' 'round to keep Shibuya safe while N- uh, my other husband was gone. I was sorta his eyes an' ears. Aw man, whatchu mean wid that face!! Boo, bro! It's good!!

Oh! You mean like how I have all those weird memories from the me that never went to Trench! Haha, man, weird memories, right?

[He can totally salvage this, He takes another totally sincere bite and waves his hand. Please pay no mind how Dipper is literally in the texture trenches right now fighting for his life.]

So, anyway you wanted to know what happened with me and Stan, right? Let's talk about that!

....

[ Okay that's actually hilarious and smoothes down his ruffled fur over the "insult" to his sandwich. Dipper is fighting for his young life over a sandwich and Beat can't help but laugh. ]

Aight. Aight dude, stop. Put it down, an' grab yerself somethin' else. I ain't really mad, dog taste buds changed me.

[ He will eat it for Dipper though, grabbing his plate to slide it over to him too, tail wagging. ]

But I ain't lettin' you off the Stan hook though. What happened?

[Well, alright. He will slide the sandwich over to Beat! Thank goodness he doesn't have to try and eat the whole thing. It might have actually killed him. He will go and scavenge for something else. Probably a more sane sandwich with chips on it.]

Alright, fine, I kind of set myself up with that one.

[It gives him time to try and sort out how he wants to explain it anyway. Once he has his food he takes a seat again.]

So, like, full disclaimer, Stan and I getting into it isn't really that weird. We used to butt heads all the time when I was younger. We're uh, we're both pretty stubborn and bad at backing down.

[A thoughtful bite.]

This one was just ...worse than any of the other ones we've had in a while. Part of it is probably my fault but most of it is his for not being honest with me. He had some kind of nightmare, and while that's not weird, exactly, I woke up to ask him about it because I felt something insanely sinister come through our house right before it happened.

[ The disclaimer makes Beat nod while his mouth is full of sandwich, his ears perked up and forward as he listens to lil bro begin to explain. He's silent - other than the horfing of his food - his brows furrowed down, letting Dippers words turn over in his head.

He knows Dipper is an empath or whatever they're called, so if the nightmare was bad enough for Dippins to pick up on, it had to have been bad but of course- ]

Old people, yo. They get so fuckin' stubborn 'bout the stupidest shit when it come to they emotions.

[ He says all that with his mouth full and then snorts. And promptly chokes on his sandwich, coughing and making those dog horking noises a little until he gets it down and out of his sinuses, rubbing at his snout vigorously and whewing softly, eyes watering. ]

An' then - geezus that almost took me out - when you try an' talk to them they get all clammy 'bout it. Nevermind if you can help or shit. Like c'mon, if it was bad 'nuff yer nephew felt it, wake the fuck up old man an' fuckin' talk.

[Dipper takes a huge bite right as Beat agrees with him and he smacks his hand in the table in agreement.]

Right! And getting Grunkle Stan to talk about anything is like pulling teeth out of a Gremloblin! But it-

[And then Beat almost dies so he jolts and waits to see if he needs to Heimlich a werewolf before he recovers.]

But it gets worse, because not only was that bad vibe identical to the feeling I got when I found the False Asshole’s temple, but we have a unique form of corruption tied to our mental state that means we have to talk about stuff or our mental states will tank and we risk turning into monsters!

Ah geezus, yo, was it Saint Bitchwad and the stick up his ass?

[ It would not surprise him any, that dudes always causing problems, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs a little to get comfy as he licks melty mayo or whatever it honestly is off his hands. ]

Aight, see, dude needs to suck it up and open the fuck up then. It bad enough we got one person who might go a little mad durin' full moons [ He jabs his finger against his own chest ] but the last thing we need is some wrinkled old fart turnin' into one just 'cuz he can't find his big boy words fer his feelin's. Old people. It - er well it was the 20th century, yo! We talk 'bout our shit!

I know it was, because I tried to one-vee-one him on the astral plain on the way over here.

[He didn't lose, but he didn't win. That's his story and he's sticking to it.]

Thank you. This isn't just about him being as emotionally vulnerable as a porcupine, it's about making sure no one has to do to him what they had to do to me the last time I fell into full corruption and hit beasthood.

[Dipper pulls back his shirt a little to show Beat the scars. The scar starts at his shoulder and goes down, diagonally across his torso. Like someone with a great big blade hacked him apart in one clean motion.]

Unfortunately, corruption is what makes this more complicated. This argument blew up bad enough that I'm worried he's already falling into it, which means getting through to him is going to be way harder by nature. I ...I like to think that had he not been corrupted, he wouldn't have yelled at me like that to begin with.

[ And he nods like that makes sense because it does. Of course Dipper would try to 1v1 an ancient toddler tantruming baby. Beat would have tried too, but he knows he's about as mentally useful as the crowd in fighting games.

His thoughts are distracted as Dipper points out his scars, Beat's ears going forward and he frowns a little thoughtfully to them, nodding. ]

Ye... "beasthood" sounds kinda like what happens to Fog Monsters if we don't eat. We turn into slobberin' mindless beasts that attack everythin' an' anythin' that we see as food. So as much as we don't like it, we gotta or we become menaces. Dunno how the old sheep managed to get 'way from it, but I know it aint left me.

[ He scratches his own chin - whose a good boy he is - thinking hard on Dippers Dilemma. ]

How'dchu come at it, yo? 'Cuz I know the older they is the more stubborn they is 'bout talkin', an' tryina yell them into submission jus' makes 'em clam the fuck up an' get salty.

Yeah... it sounds pretty similar. You're essentially driven mad by blood pollution and attack anything and everything. I think it's different for everyone. According to my sister, when it happened to me, the Beast could still use my powers, and it did it in ways that really fucked with her and my boyfriend before trying to kill them. They got really lucky another friend of ours showed up to put me down.

[Which is not at all a statement he likes making, but it gets the point across. Hitting Beasthood is the nightmare scenario no matter what.]

Yeah ...I really did just come in swinging when I shouldn't have. I was trying to be direct and not give him any holes to slip through when I was trying to ask him what was going on, but he just got more and more defensive. I should have known better.

[So, yeah, his methods were flaws this go around.]

I think ...I'm going to have to get his brother involved to make any progress. He won't listen to me, but I bet he'll listen to Grunkle Ford.

Edited 2024-12-30 01:26 (UTC)

[After the fight, Stan feels like he's losing his goddamn marbles, which is pretty impressive for someone who literally had all of his marbles erased out of his head at one point.

He isn't sure how long he wallowed on the stairs, but he doesn't go back to sleep that night. He eventually forces himself up to check the rest of the fireplaces and woodstoves and and by the time he's done with that the sun is starting to come out, albeit behind thick winter clouds.

Dipper hasn't come home, but Stan makes enough breakfast in case he does. It's something useful to do in the meantime while he tells himself the kid needs some space, probably. He isn't a monster for not chasing after him in the snow. Sure, he...sent him into the snow, made him feel like he had to run into the snow, but--

But...

Some of the bacon burns. It's fine.

When Ford wakes up he distracts him over coffee by asking if fireproofing an entire house is actually a thing they could do. Granted, he does want to know the answer, but he finds himself only half-listening to the answer. It's just comforting to listen to Ford's voice and not have someone asking what the hell is wrong with him today. Obviously it's a practical question, not one born out of nightmares or anything like that.

Eventually they part and Stan lights the day's fires as carefully as he can manage. He spends a lot of time staring at Dipper's coat and trying to tell himself that he'd have to come back for it, right? But, he doesn't. The day goes by and no matter how many things Stan does to keep his mind off of things, none of it works. His nerves are screaming but the Pines compass says Dipper's alive, and in the general direction of the inn.

Night falls, and there's still no sign of Dipper. Obviously. Why would Dipper willingly come back if he thinks Stan hates him or doesn't want him around? He was just trying to help, even if Stan didn't want him to. He didn't do anything wrong, and Stan still snapped at him, like he'd turned into his...

...When did he get in Dipper's room again?

Stan tries to pack a bag, but he can't make himself do it without feeling stupidly nauseous about it, so in the end he just folds the change of clothes and awkwardly carries it bundled in Dipper's coat, leaving the bag on the floor carelessly.

He marches through the snow with it and heads toward the inn. He tries really hard to think about absolutely nothing at all between point A and B.

Dipper is easy enough to find - he left his keys at home, so he's on one of the couches. Stan took long enough that Dipper's actually asleep, which sort of makes this easier actually. They need to talk, he knows they do, but something about seeing Dipper sleeping out in the open, on whatever free couch is available? It fucks with his head in the worst way.

In the morning, Dipper will wake up with a coat draped over him and a little pile of badly folded clothes on top of that. There's also a note with it all, short and sweet, weighed down by his Inn room key.]

THOUGHT YOU MIGHT NEED THESE

(YOU CAN ALWAYS COME BACK)

[Dipper knows he needs to go back home. Putting it off much longer is going to make things worse and more awkward, he knows this. He knows he needs to talk to Stan, and try again, but the thought of it just makes him feel exhausted and anxious in a very new and exciting way.]

[His chat with Beat helps a lot. It helps him get his thoughts in order so he can really think about the issues here and not spiral off into incoherent tangents. He knows a few things for sure: He knows he was right about the Fallen Sun meddling. He knows Stan was deflecting super hard to not talk about shit. He strongly suspects his blow up was due to corruption or something similar. And finally, that he has to tackle this from some other angle or he really will drag them into another dreamscape incident.]

[And then he thinks about going back home and something grips his heart in a way he isn't prepared to process. The emotions that he soaked up during their fight are still with him, like nasty, lingering memories, and so walking back into that again is the last thing his nerves want right now.]

[So he puts it off another day. The Inn has plenty to occupy him with. There's food. There's people. The fire is nice. He sleeps a bunch. Probably a little too much. Alcaid wakes him up suddenly by yanking a black feather out of his hair, only to find that someone's dropped a jacket on him and...]

[Ah.]

...Fine.

[Alcaid fusses at him while he heads upstairs to his room. He gets dressed, takes a proper shower, spends a good hour just, going over everything in his head so he's prepared for when he gets back and finally, finally locks up to go home.]

[He spends a little too long on the porch before he just pushes the door open, bracing himself for whatever stray emotion might be in the house right now. Once inside, his nerves buzz uncomfortably under his skin, but he presses on, shutting the door behind him loud enough to hopefully alert anyone on this floor that he was home.]

[The reality is probably underwhelming. Stan is home, but he fell asleep in his chair in the living room, as if he was waiting up for Dipper's return and nodded off. Any big emotions are initially muffled by sleep.

When he's comfortable Stan can sleep like the dead, but all of the pent-up nerves still have him on high-alert, so when the door slams he startles awake. He catches his breath, looks around and--]

--Dipper!

[The overwhelming emotion that comes from Stan isn't a negative one though, even after everything. There are some unpleasant swirls of shame and regret mixed in, but the most important one is pure relief. He didn't ruin everything forever! Dipper came back!

...Wait, is it weird to be so surprised? Is it obvious Dipper would have come back? Fuck. Stan sits up and awkwardly coughs into his hand.]

I mean...welcome back! Glad you, uh. Got the stuff I left you.

[He isn't trying to avoid the apology - he's trying to avoid drowning the poor kid in it when he hasn't even gotten a word in edgewise. He can't just slam Dipper with too much at once, not unless he wants him running off in the snow again.]

[He wasn’t sure what he was going to walk back into and he’s braced just in case. The emotion still hits him hard enough that he has to ride it out, but it being relief more than anything does …surprise him.]

[He feels a little uncertain how to take that. Maybe he should feel validated? But that thought doesn’t sit well with him and instead he feels tired again.]

Yeah. I um. Thanks.

[He did need the change of clothes and his keys pretty bad but hahaha, he wasn’t about to just turn back around and get his things when the whole point was that he needed air.]

[Now that they’re standing here awkwardly in the doorway, he isn’t sure what to say. All that rehearsing just disappears and he finds himself getting anxious again.]

I’m …I’m just gonna- [He nods towards the stairs like he might make for his room.]

Wait, hang on--

[It slips out of Stan so fast that it even surprises him a little bit. He can't keep sitting in this feeling though, not if he can do something about it. Not on top of everything else that's felt wrong.]

I. I just wanna say something real quick...

[He's clearly nervous about it though. He wrings his hands in front of him, struggling to get the words out at first.]

I wanted to say...I shouldn't've snapped at you. I was being a jerk 'cause I was tired and woke up in the middle of the night over something dumb I didn't wanna talk about. But that's not on you and-- and I shouldn't've made you feel like you couldn't be here.

[That's most of the words, except the important one. But eventually, that comes out too.]

...Sorry.

[Oh.]

[Dipper is stunned silent actually, so yeah be waits and lets Stan say his piece and when he’s done he doesn’t actually need his empathy to tell he’s being sincere.]

[Instead he feels a weird pang of guilt and relief, as something becomes incredibly apparent to him, to what this must have looked like from Stans perspective. He has to take a deep breath to keep from being overwhelmed but when he does he shakes his head.]

No- I-I’m sorry, too. I’m not sorry for pushing but- leaving wasn’t something I actually wanted to do.

[He’s going to try to explain while keeping himself together but at this point he isn’t sure of its the empathy or his real emotions here that’s causing the knot in his throat.]

You- you’ve never yelled at me like that before and then everything you were feeling just filled the room until I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out or I was gonna lose control of my powers.

[It wasn't something Dipper wanted to do. That just solidifies it more that it was something he had to do. Stan isn't great at all the psychological stuff, but it boils down to two facts - he made Dipper feel like shit (via his own dumb feelings), and he made Dipper feel like he had to leave.

None of it is anything Stan didn't already know, but it makes him glad he said something.]

Yeah, I know. You'd think I'd be used to someone being able to to feel my feelings by now, but in the heat of the moment I kinda forgot who I was talking to?

[Wait, fuck. That's not a great way to say that! He waves his hands in front of him like he's trying to erase the words out of the air.]

Not literally! I mean that I was dumb and didn't think about it making you go haywire. And...I should've. Doesn't matter what was going on with me - that's not your problem and I made it your problem.

[And if he has his way, it won't be Dipper's problem again.]

I wish you would have made it my problem. Not in the making-my-powers-go-crazy way but in the trust-your-family-to-help-you way.

[Despite the accusation, Dipper's voice is quieter and subdued. He isn't going to get into another fight, but he does need to say what's on his mind. However Stan reacts, he'll be better prepared for it this time.]

You spent that whole conversation with other me going on about how important it was for you to read my journal about the dreamscape incident, to try and protect me, but the minute something's going on with you, you just shut me out. It isn't fair, you know.

[For once, Stan is at a loss for words. He wants to protest, but nothing comes out. The most he can manage is a sheepish glance to the side, like he's being scolded by a teacher.]

...I do though.

[He can't meet Dipper's eyes when he says it though, so he knows it's a shitty defense and he doesn't actually want to start fighting again, so he doesn't push it. For once though, he isn't trying to lie, not really. Part of him really, sincerely believes what he's saying, underneath all of the nerves and discomfort and shame.

The pivot to his conversation with the other Dipper is easier, a life preserver tossed at him letting him stay afloat here.]

Yeah, well. It's not that I don't worry about that, but that was another me too, y'know. Mr. "I'm Above Caring About Money" might've gone on and on about it a little more than I would've. The guy laid it on kinda thick if you ask me.

[It's a classic deflection, something that neither of them can actually prove that shoves him an extra couple inches away from the point Dipper's trying to make. Some morally better version of him did all of that, so how is he supposed to live up to it anyway?

Then again...the alternative to laying it on thick is trying harder not to worry him, isn't it? Even this isn't entirely a lie.]

[Dipper doesn't completely buy that, and if Stan were to look at him he'd get that much from the expression on his face.]

[But he knows that Stan isn't going to budge right now, and Dipper doesn't want to fight him about it. He knew this walking in the door that he wasn't going to try and do this as soon as he got back, just try and express why this sucks the best he could so he could figure out a plan of attack some time later.]

[Dipper exhales.]

He was persistent, and Other Me was a blabber-mouth that spilled stuff I didn't plan to spill to multiple people, so here we are.

[But they've gotten off topic in a way he knows Stan is doing on purpose.]

I've only got one more thing to say on this whole thing, and then I'm going to drop it and go upstairs.

[This time the finger juts at him accusatory.]

I was right about the entity possessing the forest going around messing with people's dreams. I saw plenty of pages in the netbook about it. I also caught it in the act and tried to swing at it in the dreamscape. No matter what you can't fight me about that.

[Dipper calling his other self a blabbermouth actually gets a short laugh out of Stan. He's not wrong! It caught him off guard though, in a good way. For some reason, it feels a little more normal.

Then things immediately swing in the opposite direction, catching him off guard in the bad way this time.]

You what?!

[To his credit, he tries extremely hard to pull on the emotional breaks. Dipper's fine. He's okay, and Stan doesn't want to set him off by freaking out about how he should have followed him into the snow to keep him from doing something stupid like that (even though he absolutely SHOULD have followed him into the snow to keep him from doing something stupid like that). It doesn't feel great that Dipper could have gotten himself seriously hurt or killed again because Stan couldn't get his shit together and run after him!

He doesn't even realize he's letting out a long breath until the air is gone. But he's good now. He's good! He's at least 50% good! They are NOT having a repeat!]

N-Nevermind. Forget that part. But, uh.

[He thinks for a minute, debating with himself how to put this. It's something he ought to say something about though.]

...I still don't wanna get into it, but. The dream I had? I...don't remember anyone else being in it. Anyone who wasn't supposed to be there, I mean.

[It isn't said to challenge Dipper this time, but because it carries some unsettling implications. If someone did mess with his dreams they did it without his knowledge, and it's extremely difficult to pull one over on him in the dreamscape. He can lucid dream, he can arm his whole mindscape with critters to act as his eyes and move parts of it around. Even Bill Cipher couldn't fool him.]

[Hm. Maybe he shouldn't have been so casual about that. To Dipper's credit, because he lived to tell about it without major injury or repercussion is a reason why he was being blase about it. That whole encounter had actually been pretty weird, looking back on it!! But, that's not...something he is going to get into right now.]

[He's happy to move past it. Stan pulling back on his emotions is also something he can actually feel and for the moment he braces for something worse, he is surprised to find nothing hits him like a truck this time.]

[Instead Stan is actually SORT OF opening up about it which means Dipper can't waste this opportunity.]

Huh. I- look, I didn't get one, so I can't really compare it to something I've experienced first hand, but I know from others that the entity can do some reprehensible stuff to people in dreams. Like - [It takes him a minute to remember the details because this happened months ago.] It threatened Pure Vanilla once by choking someone in his household until he did what it wanted. If it can actually influence people between 'scapes like that, then there's no telling what kind of power it has to manipulate dreams.

What I mean is, that guy clowned the heck out of me on my preferred terrain, so maybe it was just that good at hiding its presence in your dream, too.

Edited 2024-12-21 10:43 (UTC)

[There's the briefest second where he's surprised anyone would go after PV, but then it's drowned out by the unfortunate reality that it makes perfect sense. The guy cares so much about everyone around him that it makes him an easy mark for someone or something that wants to force his hand. Stan's known monsters like that, who will twist you until you'd do anything for them. Most of their faces and names slip through his fingers now, but the lessons he learned were burned into him. Other more vivid memories are colored by them.

People can say what they want about him being a gruff asshole, but sometimes it's what he needs to keep himself and the people around him safe.]

...Maybe.

[A look crosses his face. He's still mulling it over, thoughts still simmering under the surface. They aren't done cooking yet though, so he switches gears.]

Alright, alright, we're done. Go scram upstairs. What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek?

[It's all playful and light though, and Stan makes a "shoo!" gesture with his hand. The relief that Dipper's home at all still hasn't fully faded away.]

Edited 2024-12-21 19:29 (UTC)

Out in the night all alone, in the way out there

Semi open to anyone spotting him outside or hanging out at the Inn

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1/2

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1/2 sorry for all the two parters

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The next day -> The day after that.

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