[No, no, he was expecting a fucking mess in here. It's a lot of blue fire, but if Stan somehow hit Beasthood, then he isn't really that surprised that anything involving Stan as a person is fucked beyond recognition.]
[Dipper has falling into this himself, after all. He remembers, or rather, doesn't remember, what it was like. He's only heard second hand from Mabel the behaviors of that monster. How it was him but not. How it pulled on the parts of himself it needed but otherwise twisted himself into something bloodthirsty and violent.]
[This is clearly something very different, at least it seems that way to Dipper. This beast isn't reacting violently, it's acting defensively which strikes him as very unusual. He may not be all gone, there may be something Dipper can pull back out again. He just has to weather a literal fucking inferno.]
[Oh, it's a terrible day to be an empath. It hits him so fucking hard, how much the amplified stress and fear is. He can feel his own corruption starting to fray just being here. He doesn't have a lot of time to do something.]
GRUNKLE STAN!
[But he has to. He has to try. Dipper reaches deep within himself to tap into his powers in a way he hates doing. He knows how to alter mindscapes, he knows how to affect the mental world around him. He doesn't have to change anything drastic, he just needs to put these flames out.]
[It seems like a simple enough solution, doesn't it? You see a fire, you put it out. If everything around you is a mess, you start with the mess at your feet. Slowly, the fire begins to recede away from him in circle. One foot...then two...enough to reveal burnt grass under his feet....
But the progress doesn't last. Stan, or something that used to be him, HOWLS in pain - a very human scream layered over with a pitch only an animal could possibly hit. He screams as if the lack of pain hurts even more somehow - as if all of this burning is the only thing left of what was Stanley Pines.
In desperation, the rest of the fire lurches and moves, trying to regain the ground it lost at any cost. It pays little attention to Dipper himself, though some of his clothes may start to catch if he isn't careful. The flames move awkwardly at first, but then they weave together into a shape that's almost...a hand? No. A paw.
It slams down into the circle Dipper's made and pulls back with such force it makes the ground start to spark. It leaves behind a deep gash.
But more important, it doesn't show any sign of stopping. It's going to scratch and scratch and scratch until it hurts the way it's supposed to, the way it understands that it should hurt.]
[Luckily, or maybe unluckily? Between that retaliation, the surge of concentrated emotions of pain and anguish hitting him like an actual truck, and the heat of the fire coming back towards him, Dipper absolutely can't maintain his place here in his mind.]
[It's been a while since he's been totally kicked out like that. Met his match on his preferred terrain.]
[With a shout, Dipper forces an exit for himself before he, too, succumbs to his own corruption, feeling the way those emotions pull at him, unraveling him from the inside out.]
[He hits the ground with a thud, and though he's disoriented and bleeding from the now two or three eyes on the right side of his face, he forces himself back onto his feet in a hurry.]
[This is all a little too complex for a giant beast to wrap his dog brain around. He was in the grove, and then they were GONE, and now he's back again, startled by the sudden change in location. What the FUCK was all of THAT?! He whips his head around, looking for something - anything that might have become a threat in the last two minutes. He even gets up and makes a couple of circles, in case there's something he's missing in a blind spot.
Eventually, all of his eyes land on Dipper, who is scurrying up to his feet. Stan growls low with his teeth bared and shifts as though he might lunge directly at him. It doesn't matter what happened because he can be bigger, louder, scarier!
He takes a few aggressive steps forward and then, when he's sure this guy isn't going to try and come at him again--
--he bolts! He turns tail and sprints off so fast that patches of grass burn up just from the friction. He makes a tight corner around the inn, to try and get out of sight as quickly as possible.]
no subject
[Dipper has falling into this himself, after all. He remembers, or rather, doesn't remember, what it was like. He's only heard second hand from Mabel the behaviors of that monster. How it was him but not. How it pulled on the parts of himself it needed but otherwise twisted himself into something bloodthirsty and violent.]
[This is clearly something very different, at least it seems that way to Dipper. This beast isn't reacting violently, it's acting defensively which strikes him as very unusual. He may not be all gone, there may be something Dipper can pull back out again. He just has to weather a literal fucking inferno.]
[Oh, it's a terrible day to be an empath. It hits him so fucking hard, how much the amplified stress and fear is. He can feel his own corruption starting to fray just being here. He doesn't have a lot of time to do something.]
GRUNKLE STAN!
[But he has to. He has to try. Dipper reaches deep within himself to tap into his powers in a way he hates doing. He knows how to alter mindscapes, he knows how to affect the mental world around him. He doesn't have to change anything drastic, he just needs to put these flames out.]
[So that's what he tries to do.]
no subject
But the progress doesn't last. Stan, or something that used to be him, HOWLS in pain - a very human scream layered over with a pitch only an animal could possibly hit. He screams as if the lack of pain hurts even more somehow - as if all of this burning is the only thing left of what was Stanley Pines.
In desperation, the rest of the fire lurches and moves, trying to regain the ground it lost at any cost. It pays little attention to Dipper himself, though some of his clothes may start to catch if he isn't careful. The flames move awkwardly at first, but then they weave together into a shape that's almost...a hand? No. A paw.
It slams down into the circle Dipper's made and pulls back with such force it makes the ground start to spark. It leaves behind a deep gash.
But more important, it doesn't show any sign of stopping. It's going to scratch and scratch and scratch until it hurts the way it's supposed to, the way it understands that it should hurt.]
no subject
[Luckily, or maybe unluckily? Between that retaliation, the surge of concentrated emotions of pain and anguish hitting him like an actual truck, and the heat of the fire coming back towards him, Dipper absolutely can't maintain his place here in his mind.]
[It's been a while since he's been totally kicked out like that. Met his match on his preferred terrain.]
[With a shout, Dipper forces an exit for himself before he, too, succumbs to his own corruption, feeling the way those emotions pull at him, unraveling him from the inside out.]
[He hits the ground with a thud, and though he's disoriented and bleeding from the now two or three eyes on the right side of his face, he forces himself back onto his feet in a hurry.]
no subject
Eventually, all of his eyes land on Dipper, who is scurrying up to his feet. Stan growls low with his teeth bared and shifts as though he might lunge directly at him. It doesn't matter what happened because he can be bigger, louder, scarier!
He takes a few aggressive steps forward and then, when he's sure this guy isn't going to try and come at him again--
--he bolts! He turns tail and sprints off so fast that patches of grass burn up just from the friction. He makes a tight corner around the inn, to try and get out of sight as quickly as possible.]