fordofthefalls

[fordofthefalls]

Ford listened as his counterpart spoke of resurrection and responsibilities inherited. His hands tightened in his pockets. He had seen countless dimensions, but most likely nothing compared to what the other had seen.

"Death having a looser grip than expected…" He mused. "I've had my share of close calls across the multiverse, but actual death and resurrection, well, that's something else entirely."

"Destiny… heh, no, you're right. We Fords tend to forge our own paths, usually right into the heart of whatever cosmic disaster we've stumbled upon. Though in my case, it was more often disasters of my own making."

He glanced towards the window and sighed to himself.

"These Daleks you speak of… sound horrifyingly familiar. During my travels, I encountered a race of xenophobic beings myself. They had similar philosophy - complete elimination of all other life in the universe. I managed to help contain the threat, but the parallel is… rather striking."

Something in his tone suggested there was more to that particular story.

(OOC: Hey mod! Am back with another character, mostly because I'm a geek and I like Dr who so have my Timelord Stanford -@gftimelord :D)

*A loud crash echoed from a nearby broom closet in the Mystery Shack, followed by a plume of grey smoke and a string of curses. Boxes and various objects scattered into the hallway as a figure in a familiar beige trench coat shakily rose to his feet. He waved his arms around in a futile attempt to clear the smoke, coughing harshly.*

“Oh, that is a proper mess! Ugh.”

*The man huffed, coughing into his hand as he stumbled out of the smoke and into clearer view. But the moment he noticed he wasn’t alone, he froze, locking eyes with the other man in the room. His expression shifted from irritation to shock. This… this was not his dimension.*

“Uh… greetings?”

*It was like staring into a mirror, though the other man appeared a bit younger. His trench coat was nearly identical, but his eyes—those were the eyes of someone who had seen more than his share of time and dimensions. Still, despite the clear depth of knowledge, the younger man seemed just as awkward and out of place as ever.*

(I hope this is okay! Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do this tho!)

Stanford Pines had been dozing, a hand leaning on his cheek and causing his bifocals to skew on his face. His jaw was slack and he was starting to breathe evenly, the obvious onset of sleep. His face began to slowly slide down his hand, and was moments from threatening to make his face hit the table when he heard a loud crash.

And this crash was LOUD. Ford was on his feet IMMEDIATELY, barely conscious but already moving to grab the high tech firearm strapped under his sweater. His trench coat had been left draped over a nearby chair and he blinked blearily, his glasses falling off as he brandished his firearm defensively.

Shaking his head, he stared at... himself? A blur that looked like himself? Stanley? Of course, it was to be expected. It wasn't something that surprised him anymore. Yet, having just woken up, and the fact he wasn't wearing his glasses made him a lot more defensive.

"Stanley?!" He exclaimed, "Or... you! You foul demon, I told you that if I ever saw you again I'd blow you into a million pieces! I've got a new gun now and it will blast your atoms across the room! I've destroyed you once and I can do it again!!"

[fordofthefalls]

"So, the Reform feels the Protogen are a superior species?" Ford asked as he scribbled into his journal.

*A corgi protogen is hiding out in a cave in the woods of Gravity Falls. There seems to be a lot of things inside the cave. Gems and collectibles* she seems to be decorating the place*

Firefloofy:hm..it's been a few days since I've been in this dimension..I missed grass and land..

*she says sighing*

(Is it okay to rp more than one character? ^^)

Ford was just enjoying a nice relaxing walk when something caught his eye. Walking over to a nearby bush, he pushed away the leaves and found the entrance to a cave. The hole led to an underground den, and from afar, he observed a Corgi Protogen, a creature he had never seen before!

Fascinating, he thought to himself, not wanting to startle this creature. So he hid behind a nearby rock. The creature seems sentient... perhaps it would find me creepy for hiding and watching it...

"Ahem, is anyone in here?"

[fordofthefalls]

"I don't doubt that you're going to keep going… that isn't what I'm trying to tell you. What I'm saying is that you cannot continue on this path. You're destroying yourself, and eventually, you will break. No one can withstand that much pressure, not even a Time Lord."

Ford's gaze softened as he observed his counterpart's struggle with the weight of his experiences…

"You can't keep doing this to yourself. You can't keep running from the pain and fear. You have to face it. You have to confront it. You have to stop burying it… but you can't do that alone. No one can. We're social creatures, meant to connect and share our burdens. There's nothing wrong with reaching out. Leaning on others. Sharing your burdens." He said. "That's the beauty of the universe, Doctor. The power of community, friendship, and love. You're not alone in this, I promise you. You have people who care. People who want to help you. You just have to let them."

Ford's voice was gentle but firm. He didn't want to force anything on the Doctor but desperately wanted to guide him towards healing and acceptance.

"We're all flawed beings, broken in some way or other… and that's okay. That's what makes us who we are. Our scars, our cracks, and our flaws. They aren't weaknesses or faults. They're marks of growth, change, evolution… symbols of strength. You've faced a lot, overcome a lot, seen a lot, but Doctor, that doesn't make you any less worthy of forgiveness or redemption, or love." He continued. "You felt you did what was right. That doesn't make you a monster. But tell me one thing, Doctor…"

Ford paused, thinking for a moment.

"The individual you made a promise to… would they truly want to see you suffer like this? Would they look at you now and nod and say 'yes, this is what I intended for you, this is what I feel you deserve'? Or would they agree that sometimes, some promises aren't meant to be kept?"

(OOC: Hey mod! Am back with another character, mostly because I'm a geek and I like Dr who so have my Timelord Stanford -@gftimelord :D)

*A loud crash echoed from a nearby broom closet in the Mystery Shack, followed by a plume of grey smoke and a string of curses. Boxes and various objects scattered into the hallway as a figure in a familiar beige trench coat shakily rose to his feet. He waved his arms around in a futile attempt to clear the smoke, coughing harshly.*

“Oh, that is a proper mess! Ugh.”

*The man huffed, coughing into his hand as he stumbled out of the smoke and into clearer view. But the moment he noticed he wasn’t alone, he froze, locking eyes with the other man in the room. His expression shifted from irritation to shock. This… this was not his dimension.*

“Uh… greetings?”

*It was like staring into a mirror, though the other man appeared a bit younger. His trench coat was nearly identical, but his eyes—those were the eyes of someone who had seen more than his share of time and dimensions. Still, despite the clear depth of knowledge, the younger man seemed just as awkward and out of place as ever.*

(I hope this is okay! Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do this tho!)

Stanford Pines had been dozing, a hand leaning on his cheek and causing his bifocals to skew on his face. His jaw was slack and he was starting to breathe evenly, the obvious onset of sleep. His face began to slowly slide down his hand, and was moments from threatening to make his face hit the table when he heard a loud crash.

And this crash was LOUD. Ford was on his feet IMMEDIATELY, barely conscious but already moving to grab the high tech firearm strapped under his sweater. His trench coat had been left draped over a nearby chair and he blinked blearily, his glasses falling off as he brandished his firearm defensively.

Shaking his head, he stared at... himself? A blur that looked like himself? Stanley? Of course, it was to be expected. It wasn't something that surprised him anymore. Yet, having just woken up, and the fact he wasn't wearing his glasses made him a lot more defensive.

"Stanley?!" He exclaimed, "Or... you! You foul demon, I told you that if I ever saw you again I'd blow you into a million pieces! I've got a new gun now and it will blast your atoms across the room! I've destroyed you once and I can do it again!!"

[fordofthefalls]

"I do quite enjoy it when the weather turns a little colder. The crisp air of fall is quite nice!"

Blinks at you

★ @dusty-poet

Ford blinks in response.

"Ahem, nice day, isn't it?" He attempts at making small talk.

[fordofthefalls]

Ahoj (Hi)

Well hello there! Ah... is there anything you need?

[fordofthefalls]

Would you believe me if I said that in my universe you were a fictional character from a Disney TV show?

I'd say it's a fascinating possibility. It's not entirely out of the question, now that I know the multiverse exists--and there are certainly infinite possibilities across different dimensions. The idea that there is a parallel universe where events are depicted in a TV show is not inconceivable!

I'm incredibly interested! I'd love to know more about this show and how it portrays my world. Could you tell me more?

[fordofthefalls]

Hands you Molly Dolly!

@living-doll-girl

"O-Oh my, what manner of creature are you?"

[fordofthefalls]

44 33 555 555 666.

44 666 9 0 2 777 33 0 999 666 88 0 3 666 444 66 4 0 8 666 3 2 999 ?

- 66 666 55 444 2 0 2 66 666 66

Hello there!

Apologies for the extended delay at responding, my brother and I have just set off on another expedition and replying to messages hasn't been at the forefront of my mind.

I'll do better to do that, however. As for your question, I'm doing just fine! I hope you're doing well, too!

[fordofthefalls]

"I see. That's quite interesting... well, we should still proceed with caution. Who knows how many traps this place has? I've tripped a good number of traps in my time... and I'm lucky to have made it out in mostly one piece!"

Darcy has just deciphered something that you couldn’t decipher

"What have you got there, Darcy? Figured something out?"

[fordofthefalls]

Dvuklymbs! Thf P tlla fvb pu wlyzvu, Ty Wpulz?

"Of course. I wouldn't mind meeting you in person!"

[fordofthefalls]

Blinks at you

★ @dusty-poet

Ford blinks in response.

"Ahem, nice day, isn't it?" He attempts at making small talk.

[fordofthefalls]

I don't usually do OOC stuff like this, but this is important.

The original petition was taken down, unfortunately. However, this one was put in place to replace it! Hopefully the original can get put back up. For now, if you haven't signed this version, I strongly urge you to do so. Again, you can sign even if you can't vote, you can sign under an alias, and you don't have to make your signature publicly available.

[fordofthefalls]

"You're not alone in this. I may not have experienced the same things you have, or understand everything you've been through, but I can tell you that no one should have to go through what you have, and no one should have to go through it alone, either."

Ford sighed deeply, shaking his head in resignation. This was his chance to help his alternate self. To be the person he had failed to be for others in the past. He couldn't fail at this.

"Look, I… I'm not afraid of you. If I were, I would have fled the moment we started talking. You're not a monster. You're not a murderer. You're not a killer. You're just a man who made mistakes. A man who was pushed to do things beyond his control. Things that he regrets. You're a man, after all."

Ford stepped forward, his gaze locked on his counterpart's. There was a hardness in those eyes, a stubborn refusal to accept the offered comfort. It was a look Ford recognized, a look that spoke volumes. One that told of a soul weighed down by unimaginable burdens, of a heart hardened by pain and loss.

"I know what it's like to feel guilt. To carry the weight of your actions on your shoulders, and believe me, it never gets easier. But it does get bearable. It does become manageable. You just have to take it one day at a time, and find ways to cope. Find ways to forgive yourself, and move forward. And you can start by talking about it. Sharing the burden with someone else. It doesn't have to be a therapist, or a stranger. It can be me. Someone who knows you, even if it's just a fraction of who you are."

Ford placed a hand on his counterpart's shoulders, the gesture meant to convey support and understanding. He could only hope that his words would resonate, that they would penetrate the Doctor's armor of self-loathing and bitterness that he had built around himself.

"You don't have to be the Doctor forever. You can choose to stop. You can choose to heal. You can let it go. And that's okay. You're allowed to. Because at the end of the day, you're still you. A flawed being despite everything, but still beautiful."

Ford could only hope his words had reached the Doctor.

(OOC: Hey mod! Am back with another character, mostly because I'm a geek and I like Dr who so have my Timelord Stanford -@gftimelord :D)

*A loud crash echoed from a nearby broom closet in the Mystery Shack, followed by a plume of grey smoke and a string of curses. Boxes and various objects scattered into the hallway as a figure in a familiar beige trench coat shakily rose to his feet. He waved his arms around in a futile attempt to clear the smoke, coughing harshly.*

“Oh, that is a proper mess! Ugh.”

*The man huffed, coughing into his hand as he stumbled out of the smoke and into clearer view. But the moment he noticed he wasn’t alone, he froze, locking eyes with the other man in the room. His expression shifted from irritation to shock. This… this was not his dimension.*

“Uh… greetings?”

*It was like staring into a mirror, though the other man appeared a bit younger. His trench coat was nearly identical, but his eyes—those were the eyes of someone who had seen more than his share of time and dimensions. Still, despite the clear depth of knowledge, the younger man seemed just as awkward and out of place as ever.*

(I hope this is okay! Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do this tho!)

Stanford Pines had been dozing, a hand leaning on his cheek and causing his bifocals to skew on his face. His jaw was slack and he was starting to breathe evenly, the obvious onset of sleep. His face began to slowly slide down his hand, and was moments from threatening to make his face hit the table when he heard a loud crash.

And this crash was LOUD. Ford was on his feet IMMEDIATELY, barely conscious but already moving to grab the high tech firearm strapped under his sweater. His trench coat had been left draped over a nearby chair and he blinked blearily, his glasses falling off as he brandished his firearm defensively.

Shaking his head, he stared at... himself? A blur that looked like himself? Stanley? Of course, it was to be expected. It wasn't something that surprised him anymore. Yet, having just woken up, and the fact he wasn't wearing his glasses made him a lot more defensive.

"Stanley?!" He exclaimed, "Or... you! You foul demon, I told you that if I ever saw you again I'd blow you into a million pieces! I've got a new gun now and it will blast your atoms across the room! I've destroyed you once and I can do it again!!"

[fordofthefalls]

Ford didn't seem to believe a word of this version of himself's story. He was able to accept the existence of aliens and other versions of himself, sure. Even the fact there was a multiverse where countless worlds and possibilities were true. However, the idea of his other self being a murderer? No. That couldn't be true. There was no way.

Ford was many things, and he had done many things, but he wasn't a killer. He could have never imagined himself becoming one. Even if it had been to save a planet, or a civilization, or a universe, or whatever, he could have never thought of taking a life. He wasn't capable of that. And it wasn't because he was a good person, but because he simply didn't have the courage or the lack of empathy that was required to pull the trigger.

He took a step back, almost as if he could see the other man's aura radiating off him. It wasn't visible, of course, but Ford could practically feel the despair and remorse emanating from him. It was palpable. A dark, heavy atmosphere surrounding the other man, weighing him down, and making Ford want to shrink away from him. His chest felt tight, his stomach twisted, and his pulse quickened.

"Right, well... that's certainly a lot to take in..." He muttered, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as his mind attempted to process all that. He had a million questions, and he wasn't sure if he would ever receive answers to them. Was the other him really capable of killing billions?

"Listen... I don't really know your whole story, and frankly, I don't really want to, but I will say that I think you need to get help. Find a therapist, a friend, a support group, anything. Just don't... isolate yourself. That's the worst thing you can do."

Ford's own words surprised him. He hadn't expected to be the one giving advice especially to a version of himself that was clearly suffering from severe PTSD. Yet here he was... offering comfort to a man who had probably seen and done more than anyone should ever have to. A part of him wondered if it was some kind of cosmic joke, or if the multiverse was playing a cruel trick on him.

But then again, maybe this was what he needed. Maybe this was the push he needed to finally confront his own demons and work on healing his broken heart. He couldn't change the past, and he couldn't erase the mistakes he himself had made, but he could choose to learn from them. And grow. Perhaps the real reason this other version had appeared before him was to show him there was still hope, and he could still turn things around, and he could be a better person.

....Or, perhaps not. Ford didn't believe in fate or destiny, or any of that nonsense. He was a scientist, after all.

"Would you like me to... stay with you?" He then offered.

(OOC: Hey mod! Am back with another character, mostly because I'm a geek and I like Dr who so have my Timelord Stanford -@gftimelord :D)

*A loud crash echoed from a nearby broom closet in the Mystery Shack, followed by a plume of grey smoke and a string of curses. Boxes and various objects scattered into the hallway as a figure in a familiar beige trench coat shakily rose to his feet. He waved his arms around in a futile attempt to clear the smoke, coughing harshly.*

“Oh, that is a proper mess! Ugh.”

*The man huffed, coughing into his hand as he stumbled out of the smoke and into clearer view. But the moment he noticed he wasn’t alone, he froze, locking eyes with the other man in the room. His expression shifted from irritation to shock. This… this was not his dimension.*

“Uh… greetings?”

*It was like staring into a mirror, though the other man appeared a bit younger. His trench coat was nearly identical, but his eyes—those were the eyes of someone who had seen more than his share of time and dimensions. Still, despite the clear depth of knowledge, the younger man seemed just as awkward and out of place as ever.*

(I hope this is okay! Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do this tho!)

Stanford Pines had been dozing, a hand leaning on his cheek and causing his bifocals to skew on his face. His jaw was slack and he was starting to breathe evenly, the obvious onset of sleep. His face began to slowly slide down his hand, and was moments from threatening to make his face hit the table when he heard a loud crash.

And this crash was LOUD. Ford was on his feet IMMEDIATELY, barely conscious but already moving to grab the high tech firearm strapped under his sweater. His trench coat had been left draped over a nearby chair and he blinked blearily, his glasses falling off as he brandished his firearm defensively.

Shaking his head, he stared at... himself? A blur that looked like himself? Stanley? Of course, it was to be expected. It wasn't something that surprised him anymore. Yet, having just woken up, and the fact he wasn't wearing his glasses made him a lot more defensive.

"Stanley?!" He exclaimed, "Or... you! You foul demon, I told you that if I ever saw you again I'd blow you into a million pieces! I've got a new gun now and it will blast your atoms across the room! I've destroyed you once and I can do it again!!"

[fordofthefalls]

Luckily, Ford was doing a lot better about actually getting proper sleep. It was still only about four hours per night, but he wasn't pulling all-nighters as much anymore thanks to keeping to a consistent schedule... which was a bit more difficult when he was traveling the world, but alas.

At the mention of being 'not a kid anymore' for 'a couple decades now', Ford's lips pressed into a thin line as he gathered up a blanket from one of the nearby cabinets before turning back to his alternate universe son.

"Oho, not a kid anymore? Well then, stop acting like one, and maybe I won't treat you like one." The words came out of his mouth before he could even control them. Wow, he really was starting to sound a bit like a stern father.

"Look, I understand that everyone will worry, but when you get back, you can explain that you were sleep-deprived, and blame the rest all on me. I guarantee they'll say it was a good call, and probably chastise you for not sleeping enough." He pointed out. "Seriously, I'm surprised your siblings and father let you get to this point!"

[OOC: Thanks for the go ahead! Anyway, I offer my boiyo! Gave him his own blog on @aeschylusmaximillianpines soley for RP purposes :D Thinking this might be post-weirdmageddon where everybody's back in gravity falls for the summer?]

The multiverse theory was a doozy in and of itself, an infinite amount of possibilities for anything and everything. As Aeschylus stepped out of the rift with a tired huff, he pulled down the red neckerchief that he'd been using as a makeshift mask. He cringed at the state his coat was in, sure- it's seen better days ever since coming into his possession but he was fairly certain his father would've definitely have dragged it through worse. Fairly certain.

It wasn't a trenchcoat anymore, having altered it to be a windbreaker at best more than a decade ago- but Aeschylus was really thankful for the numerous large pockets his old man had added to it while it was still his. He took out the steel blue fountain pen from the breastpocket of the coat before taking out a blue hardbound from the inside of his coat to jot down a couple things. After a minute, the brunette closed it with a sigh and ran a hand through his brown hair. Some parts already started to lighten and streak grey, he could distinctly remember his siblings teasing him that it was because of stress.

After properly dusting himself off and keeping his belongings, Aeschylus supposed it was time to head home. His brain was running on caffeine and autopilot by now, all the more when he simply walked towards the mystery shack half nodding off. He hadn't noticed that in his semi-conscious brain that he'd wandered into a similar universe- but not home.

"Hey dad! I've got the plant specimen you wanted, gave me hell trying to catch it though. What did you need this mutated Caesar salad for anyway-"

Aeschylus trailed off when he came face to face with the man in question, but something felt off. Sure, it was like staring into an aged mirror- he got used to that- but there was something different. Mismatched eyes squinted at Stanford skeptically.

"Uh... you're not my dad."

[OOC: Here's pictures of him for reference, he doesn't slick his hair back anymore post-weirdmageddon; but he does continue mostly wearing that fit. Like Ford- it's like he only has ONE OUTFIT EVER/j SORRY FOR THE TEXT DUMP IF ANYTHING- THIS IS NORMALLY HOW I RP T^T]

Stanford was sitting at the dining table, tinkering away at a machine, the sound of metal clanging on metal echoing throughout the room. It was late in the evening and the house was quiet, save for the whir of machines. Ford's brow was furrowed, his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth, and his full attention was focused on the task at hand. He was attempting to repair a device that had been damaged while at sea. When he was finished, he leaned back in his chair, setting the screwdriver down with a clatter. He'd have Fidds take a look over it before he switched it back on. (continued below the cut~)

Upon hearing a voice, his eyes snapped up to find Aeschylus. For a moment he just stared, taking in the young man's appearance, his eyes wide. He was a hundred percent sure he didn't have a son. He had just started dating again after all, and... well. His last partner had been a triangular demon from another dimension. Who was this kid?

"Excuse me?" Ford asked, his voice hoarse from disuse, his expression one of utter confusion. "I'm sorry, but I'm not your father." Ford shifted in his seat, his curiosity getting the better of him as he studied the boy closely. It was odd, he thought. The boy did bear a striking resemblance to him. He shook his head, dismissing the idea. He didn't know who his father was, but it wasn't him. He wasn't the type to have kids, and he had no memory of ever being in a relationship that would have led to a child.

His thoughts were racing. Maybe the boy was confused... or some kind of con artist. Or perhaps... this was more multiversal than he thought. After all, when it came to the multiverse, anything was possible. No, this was real. The boy in front of him was a stranger, not his son. Yet he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of connection to him, a pull that was difficult to explain. Perhaps it was the similarity in their appearances, or maybe it was something else.

"Who are you?" Ford finally asked, his tone serious and a little suspicious.

(OOC: Apologies for the wait!)

[fordofthefalls]

“Ford, why in the name of all that’s holy do you think I should join you on this particular adventure? From what you’ve told it sounds pretty dangerous.”

"That's exactly why I'd like you to accompany me, Stanley. I know you can handle yourself, and I promised you I wouldn't rush into anything like a damn lone wolf hero again. I promise, I've got your back as long as you have mine."

[fordofthefalls]

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps I was taking a nap before I was rudely awakened by the sounds of things crashing in my home. By you. Don't you know how to enter a room without making a mess?"

Now it was Ford's turn to bite back. He wasn't exactly happy with being poked and prodded and called a klutz by someone who looked exactly like him. Then again, it could just be that this version of himself - if he even was another version of himself and not just using his face - had a bit of self-loathing going on and that was bleeding through to their dialogue.

He then took a moment to think back to what else had been said. This version of himself had mentioned his twin as 'Lee', rather than 'Stanley', or 'Stan', and that was certainly curious. They were obviously close, despite the verbal jabbing, and he had also mentioned... Daleks? The name rung a bell.

"Well. I'd hardly consider myself a klutz. Just an old man who's made his mistakes and is trying his best to move on from them. If you're truly a parallel version of myself, then you'll understand that much, at least. But, I digress, you said 'Daleks'. Care to explain? The name rings a bell but I can't quite put a finger on it."

[OOC: Apologies if it's short]

(OOC: Hey mod! Am back with another character, mostly because I'm a geek and I like Dr who so have my Timelord Stanford -@gftimelord :D)

*A loud crash echoed from a nearby broom closet in the Mystery Shack, followed by a plume of grey smoke and a string of curses. Boxes and various objects scattered into the hallway as a figure in a familiar beige trench coat shakily rose to his feet. He waved his arms around in a futile attempt to clear the smoke, coughing harshly.*

“Oh, that is a proper mess! Ugh.”

*The man huffed, coughing into his hand as he stumbled out of the smoke and into clearer view. But the moment he noticed he wasn’t alone, he froze, locking eyes with the other man in the room. His expression shifted from irritation to shock. This… this was not his dimension.*

“Uh… greetings?”

*It was like staring into a mirror, though the other man appeared a bit younger. His trench coat was nearly identical, but his eyes—those were the eyes of someone who had seen more than his share of time and dimensions. Still, despite the clear depth of knowledge, the younger man seemed just as awkward and out of place as ever.*

(I hope this is okay! Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do this tho!)

Stanford Pines had been dozing, a hand leaning on his cheek and causing his bifocals to skew on his face. His jaw was slack and he was starting to breathe evenly, the obvious onset of sleep. His face began to slowly slide down his hand, and was moments from threatening to make his face hit the table when he heard a loud crash.

And this crash was LOUD. Ford was on his feet IMMEDIATELY, barely conscious but already moving to grab the high tech firearm strapped under his sweater. His trench coat had been left draped over a nearby chair and he blinked blearily, his glasses falling off as he brandished his firearm defensively.

Shaking his head, he stared at... himself? A blur that looked like himself? Stanley? Of course, it was to be expected. It wasn't something that surprised him anymore. Yet, having just woken up, and the fact he wasn't wearing his glasses made him a lot more defensive.

"Stanley?!" He exclaimed, "Or... you! You foul demon, I told you that if I ever saw you again I'd blow you into a million pieces! I've got a new gun now and it will blast your atoms across the room! I've destroyed you once and I can do it again!!"