#grcvityfclls

[hochmvt]

everything's a life or death situation with you at this point.

If one took a closer look at Dipper and Isaiah, especially how they interacted not just with each other but to their surroundings, too, one quickly realized that they operated quite similarly on a very elementary level – surpassing the shared surname. Or, to be more precise, their motivations were the same. They were both seemingly driven by a thirst for knowledge - knowing full well that the Earth's biodiversity had much more than its 3.6 million to 112 million species to offer. And when you thought about the infinity of the universe, about all the things that wandered beyond the blue planet, one felt much smaller and more insignificant than was healthy for the egocentric human mind.

A wonderful feeling, when Isaiah thought about the concept of nihilism enough: That no matter what you did, nothing really mattered and thus, insignificance gave you the freedom to do everything. Even if that meant exploring all that existence had to offer until one's very last breath. Life had so much to offer and Isaiah was often overcome with a childlike euphoria when he met people who had similar passions – or concepts of reality – to his own. They knew that the inexplicable nature of things contained a beauty that was not only to be explored, but also to be truly admired. 

Dipper seemed much more rational in his approach to certain endeavors, for now only facing them in a more theoretical framework, while Isaiah was perhaps not necessarily less calculating, but much more emotionally driven in his response to situations. “Thanks,” the blonde replied and gave a wider grin, leaning further over the table of the diner where they had sat down around three in the morning and studying the books he had bought in addition to his and Dipper's own notes. “I kinda take this as a compliment. Anyways, have you ever encountered something like that before? What on earth did we just witnessed there?”

[firebrnd]

📜

incorrect quotes generator

Bonnie: I've already sent good vibes your way... they're coming. There's nothing you can do to stop them. Dipper: This is the most threatening way I've ever been cheered up.

Dipper: Today is the day of running through hurdles. Bonnie: Aren't you supposed to jump OVER hurdles? Dipper: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

[mikaels0n-elijah-writing]

@grcvityfclls sends: if you don't kiss me again, i'll die.

Grinning, Elijah approached Dipper, knowing what he was doing to him, knowing what it would do to him. Burning. It burned so much inside him that he couldn't help it. And yet he wanted to tease the other, to lure him out of his reserve. He grabbed him by the back of the neck, not necessarily gently, but still lovingly, and pulled him close. He now looked down at him slightly from above, still grinning.

"We have to prevent that, don't we?"

[skyfallstarlights]

🌹🥀♫ //✧˖°  →  ▒ [{ @grcvity-fclls: }] ▒   ←   ✧˖°   // ♫ 🥀🌹

Rosewood had been listening to the sound of the birds chirpping and chattering away in the branches for some time. The sun was beinging to set and so the birds were bidding farewell to their fello avians before they would sleep. It was more calmer, enjoyable to listen to them compared to the noise that would echo from the town and echoing voices. At lest. not this far deep in the woods.

His head would tilt towards the side at seeing the flicker of movement towards one of the trees. Crimson and pale white gaze turns to follow. For a moment he would of thought it was one of the animals of the woods running to their burrow but he doubts that.

Gathering his cloak, the heavy fabric brushing against the grass covered floor as leaves crunch beneath his hooves.

" The sun is starting to set. It be wise to leave before hand "

[mikaels0n-elijah-writing]

Elijah followed Dipper to the car and sat in the passenger seat, smiling at the previous question. He watched as the human drank water and seemed to feel as much better from it as he did from the vampire's blood. "Holy water… not much use, that's true. I can't tell you why. Many lies have been created to keep people safe," he winked at the other, he was always amused by the stories and loved to hear them.

"Garlic doesn't work either if you want to try it. Apart from bad breath, nothing happens", he added, leaning back and relaxing. The other knew the way, Elijah would just watch the surroundings to catch everything. He had a damn good memory. "You shouldn't rely on the wooden stake either", grinned the original vampire. It helps with almost everyone. Was that why he was so willing to share the information? Because it only hurt him in time? Wood hurt him, but it didn't kill him.

He shrugged his shoulders when asked why he was there. Even if the other person couldn't see it because he was concentrating on driving. "I'm travelling around, randomly, seeing what I can find to get a little distraction. If I come across vampires, well… a lot of them want me dead, so I don't mind if they die."

The motel looked better than expected, but still lived up to expectations. Elijah got out and followed the other again, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings as he tried to get a better overview. There weren't many people here. It was run down, but usable. Dipper opened a door that apparently led to his room and Elijah stepped inside. Dipper's scent was open in the room, unmistakable to the vampire. "Anything else you want to know about killing vampires?"

“So better not die” he muttered to himself. It wasn't that Dipper hated the thought of becoming part of a world he spent most of his time exploring, but becoming part of it by accident? He preferred to stay as he was.

“The pleasure is all mine, Elijah.” He replied and followed the vampire.

It was better to leave, he was right. Even healed and in what Dipper would call friendly company at the moment, he wasn't in the mood to face another beast. One a day was enough and the truce between Elijah and him was definitely a good thing. Dipper would see how long it lasted. Things could change, and if there was one thing he'd learned in life, it was to be careful. Even with the friendly supernatural beings. 

“I have a place to stay.” One minute they were talking about not killing each other - a bit odd, but for supernatural beings sometimes it wasn't - and now they were talking about a place to go. It just felt weird to ask Elijah if he wanted to go out for coffee or dinner or something. Especially since his clothes were bloody. It just felt more right to go to his motel room, freshen up a bit and maybe get more information to summarize in his journal. “My car is just around the corner.” He led Elijah to his Jeep and took a seat in the driver's side, reaching for the water bottle that was still there from the drive from Gravity Falls to Detroit and taking a big sip. It wasn't refreshing, but it was much needed. “The holy water didn't help. Why is that? I can well imagine that many myths about vampires aren't true, but holy water? It works on ghosts, though.” Talking about the fact that he had killed a vampire almost untrained, he wanted to wait until they arrived at the motel. Dipper was a little paranoid about that, and he wanted some time to choose the right words.  “But the wooden peg worked really well. It's crazy.” He shook his head, his fingers already twitching as they tried to write it all down. To draw, to get a clear head. But he had to be patient. He didn't like being in debt to other people, even if Elijah had said there would be no debt. But it felt like there was a debt, and Dipper's mind wouldn't rest until the debt was paid. “Why were you there?” 

Dipper was already starting the engine, glancing briefly at Elijah before focusing on driving and not accidentally killing himself. Oh, crap. Maybe he should lock himself in for the next 24 hours. 

[firebrnd]

⋆ having a scary movie marathon

Bonnie had never been one to turn down a good scare, even if it meant spending half the movie peeking out from behind a pillow. She loved horror films, the thrill of it, the way it got her heart racing, but she had to admit, she was a bit of a scaredy-cat when it came to jump scares and eerie music. Still, that wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying a scary movie marathon with Dipper. Especially when she’d gone all out prepping for their night in.

She glanced around her small living room, feeling a swell of satisfaction at how cozy she’d managed to make it despite the creepy theme. A few flickering candles sat on the coffee table, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room, their flames dancing like tiny spirits. She’d draped a plush, autumn-themed blanket over the couch, a little pile of soft pillows strategically placed for easy hiding if things got too spooky. Nearby, a tray of carefully arranged snacks sat waiting: popcorn drizzled with dark chocolate, a bowl of caramel apples slices, a mix of candy corn and pretzels, and some homemade witch-themed cookies she’d baked earlier - tiny hats and broomsticks with colorful icing.

Bonnie had even strung up a few fairy lights around the windows for good measure. They were purple and orange, creating an ambiance that was just the right mix of festive and eerie. She liked the way it felt, a cozy kind of spooky, like the line between comfort and thrill was just thin enough to make the whole evening more exciting. And she hoped Dipper would think so, too.

As she heard a knock on the door, her heart gave a little jump, not from fear, but from a flicker of anticipation. Dipper stood there with his usual easy grin, holding up a stack of DVDs. “I brought the essentials” he said, his eyes already scanning the cozy setup she’d put together. “And maybe a few extras, just in case.”

Bonnie laughed, opening the door wider to let him in. “Perfect! I hope you’re ready for a night of me screaming at all the wrong moments” she teased, shutting the door behind him. “I even made snacks to keep our courage up. Or, you know, to bribe any wandering spirits to leave us alone.” She waggled her eyebrows playfully as she led him over to the couch.

She grinned, feeling a little pleased with herself. She plopped down on the couch, grabbing a handful of popcorn and patting the space next to her. “Come on, let’s get started. But I warn you. . . if you see me grabbing a pillow, that’s your cue to cover my eyes.”

Dipper settled in beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. He gave her a playful nudge. “Deal. But only if you promise not to scream directly in my ear when something jumps out.”

Bonnie laughed and nodded. “I make no promises, but I’ll try my best” she said, reaching for the remote. She skimmed through the stack of movies, settling on an older classic to kick things off, a good mix of suspense and campy horror. As the opening credits rolled, she sank back into the cushions, the dim light from the candles flickering around them like a chorus of tiny ghosts.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm as the movie played - Bonnie jumping and yelping at the well-timed scares, Dipper chuckling and teasing her good-naturedly. She knew she was a bit of a scaredy-cat, but there was something about watching horror with someone who didn’t mind her squeals and half-hidden face that made it all the more fun. When a particularly loud jump scare hit, she nearly knocked over the bowl of popcorn, grabbing Dipper’s arm reflexively. “Okay, that was dirty” she said, trying to sound annoyed but unable to hide the grin tugging at her lips.

As they settled into the second movie, a thought occurred to her, and she turned to Dipper with a mischievous glint in her amber eyes. “You know” she began, her voice laced with mock seriousness, “we could always up the ante and have the next marathon at the arcade. Think about it. . . finding some old TV or projector, dusting it off, and watching horror movies there. It’d be like one of those urban legend stories where a cursed video starts playing on its own.”

[hochmvt]

“You're remarkably terrible at getting other people to sniff it, you know that?” Isaiah chuckled and leaned back, thus declining the very charming offer of the man across from him, sipping his coffee and taking the photo in his hand. If they had been sitting in the diner where his mother worked back home in Greenville, she would certainly have shaken her head at the fact that her son was sitting here at 3 a.m., still drinking coffee, even though his head was never still anyway. She would’ve urged him to go to bed and continue what he was doing the day after. But he couldn’t. Even as he sat there, staring at the photo, he could feel his brain reaching to the very corners of vastly different theories and ideas. All of this didn’t make much sense to him, thus refusing to let him settle on just one thing. It wasn’t just curiosity — it was a relentless need, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. 

The more he stared at those golden eyes, the more his thoughts spiraled, making connections between things that might not even exist. Maybe he needed to start somewhere else. The paper itself was old, the kind one didn’t see much anymore. He ran his finger along the edges, feeling the texture, the thickness. It wasn’t a particularly cheap paper. Whoever had taken this photo knew what they were doing and they spent money on it. And the grain of the picture revealed, that it wasn’t a cheap film stock either; very delicate and fine, the colors (despite their abscence of it) reminded him of Vision3 — and yet the ISO was low, meaning it had been taken in good light. No flash, no harsh shadows. And yet, it was dark, but it didn't feel like it was due to underexposure. The quality of the image, despite its motion blur, suggested it wasn’t recent. Maybe the late '70s, early '80s. Daylight, but not direct sun. If he had to guess, he’d say late afternoon, the kind of light that softens everything just before it fades into dusk. He could almost feel the air in that moment — cool, still, and charged with something unspoken.

These eyes however, burning gold, weren’t just watching — they were waiting. Anticipating. Hunting. He didn't think it was a demon or a spirit, nothing ethereal or fleeting. This felt physical, grounded in a way the supernatural rarely was. Something with form, almost crouching, hunched over like it was stalking its next move, waiting for the right moment to strike. Like a predator. The blurry surroundings only fed into the sense of danger, of something hiding just out of reach.

Isaiah felt anticipation and enthusiasm rise in his body, a feeling deep and instinctive, telling him this was no ordinary creature. It wasn’t just lurking in the shadows — it had manifested, brought into this world somehow, as if the environment itself had called it into being. The more he stared, the more he was certain: whatever it was, it wasn’t here by accident. And it waited to be found. ”So, where did you find all this stuff?” Isaiah asked as he pulled out his laptop, his legs becoming restless again. He alternately tapped the tips of his other fingers with his thumb. First the index, then the middle, then the ring and finally the little finger. Then backwards. Then starting again from the front. ”So, I usually start at missing people. When there’s something out there, usually people go missing or have... accidents. Cold cases are a good point to start, too. All of this feels— old. Ancient. Dunno, it’s a gut feeling, but it’s— something.”

A laugh left Dipper's throat. “That really is a compliment,” he replied, still chuckling as he looked up from his notes. He wiggled his eyebrows and looked at Isaiah through his eyelashes. But his question made him sit up straight and lean back on the bench for a second. He thought about his words. Then he shook his head. “Nope, not at all. Not that I know of. But that just makes things more interesting.” His eyes sparkled with action as he leaned on the table himself and looked deep into Isahai's eyes. “Do you have any idea what this could be?” Of course Isaiah asked first, but perhaps he already had something in mind. As Dipper knows, this man had traveled much more than Dipper himself and had seen things far removed from what was in Dipper's journal. But it also worked the other way around. Dipper might have seen things that Isaiah didn't know about now. He only thought of Bill in that one moment before he gently shook his head and broke eye contact to look at the evidence they already had. 

He bites his lips from the inside and lets his brown eyes wander over the photos, which weren't helpful at all, a few hairs in a small plastic bag, some newspaper articles and - of course - a handful of witness statements. 

“In a world where we have the first bunch of AIs, you'd think people would have learned how to focus on a camera by now, right? Or the video function?” He wasn't angry at all, but sometimes it would be easier if the photos didn't look like they'd been taken with a toaster. He grabbed one and placed it in the middle of the table between them. Then he looked up at Isaiash's eyes again. “It could be anything. A man, a deer, a pumpkin on a stick, or a bunch of gnomes in a trenchcoat. And the photo itself could be taken anywhere. In the forest or in a desert. Only the colors tell me it wasn't on a beach.” He chuckled softly and looked down at the photo. The only tiny clue that what they were looking for actually existed. Whatever this thing was, only its eyes were imaginable. Large and yellow or gold in color. A little hard to make out, since the photo itself only showed shadows and blurry trees and bushes. 

"Do some spirits have those kind of eyes? Or a demon? Oh, please. I hope it's not a demon. I've never dealt with anything like that before." Dipper sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. As he put it back on the table, the waitress came and refilled their cups, looked at their papers and walked away with a shake of her head. Dipper raised an eyebrow. ‘I made a guess,’ he said, looking from the waitress to Isaiah again, ‘We're not the first ones to sit here in the middle of the night looking for what this is.’ He pointed at the photo again, pushed it aside and picked up the bag of hair. 

Following a thought, he opened the bag and sniffed it carefully, not trying to inhale anything but the smell, and flinched almost immediately. "Oh damn, have you ever sniffed that before? Disgusting. Definitely not human. It reminds me of the sewers, but what the hell would voluntarily live down there?" He held the bag out to Isiah, not sure if he was going to sniff it or not. Dipper wiggled his nose, trying to get rid of the odour, but of course it didn't work. 

[firebrnd]

Bonnie felt the energy shift the moment they stepped into the room, the red light painting everything in a strange, unsettling hue. She took in her surroundings with a practiced eye, the weight of the room's atmosphere settling over her like a thick fog. The air was heavy with an odd, almost metallic tang beneath the citrus scent, and she breathed it in carefully, letting her senses absorb the layers of the room. She could feel Dipper’s presence just behind her, his curiosity and excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness that she found oddly reassuring. For a hunter of the unknown, he didn’t seem too jaded, and she liked that about him.

She watched him test the doors, her lips quirking into a small smile at his determination. "Looks like we're locked in" she mused, more to herself than him. It wasn’t a surprise; this whole house felt like a trap disguised as fun. She let her fingers graze one of the bookshelves, feeling the tingle of old, restless energy emanating from the objects crammed onto the shelves. "No, not often" she answered, her voice soft as she turned to glance at Dipper. "But something about this place. . . well, it seemed worth a look." Her fingers lingered on a peculiar trinket, an old brass compass that seemed to tremble slightly at her touch.

When Dipper mentioned the skeleton, Bonnie turned her attention back to the desk. Her eyes narrowed, her gaze tracing the key around its neck. "Dance with the dead?" she echoed with a light laugh, stepping closer to examine the skeleton. "I think I'd rather ask for a favor." She leaned in, her red hair brushing over her shoulder, her eyes locked on the empty sockets of the skull. There was something oddly ceremonial about the way it was positioned, as if it were waiting for a cue. "But I suppose if it insists. . ."

She reached out, intending to gently remove the key, but the skeleton's finger twitched again, and Bonnie paused, her breath catching. The shadows in the room seemed to pulse for a moment, reacting to the skeleton's subtle movement. She could feel the energy rising, shifting from dormant to active. Her eyes darted back to Dipper, a glimmer of both excitement and caution in her amber gaze.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension hanging heavy in the air. She felt a prickle at the back of her neck, a warning that something was about to shift. Then, without any prelude, the red light that had bathed the room flickered once, twice, and then went out entirely, plunging them into total darkness. The sudden change was like a cold hand gripping her heart, and for a split second, she could feel nothing but the thick, impenetrable void around them.

“Dipper?” she called, her voice echoing strangely in the pitch-black room. She could sense him close by, feel the warmth of his energy amidst the creeping cold, but even that comforting presence seemed muted by the darkness. Her eyes darted around, trying to adjust, but it was as if the room had swallowed all the light. The air was heavy with a sense of anticipation, of something waiting just out of sight, watching. She could hear the faint, distant rustle of fabric, like a whisper, and the almost imperceptible creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. She resisted the urge to reach out blindly, instead grounding herself, focusing on the rhythmic beat of her own heart to keep calm.

He was comforted by the fact that Bonnie had said of her own accord that they should stay together for a while. That way, Dipper didn't have to think up a reason. "You're right. Could be fun. A witch and a hunter, what could possibly go wrong?" Everything Dipper had ever imagined, but that's another story. Or is it? 

As he followed Bonnie down the corridor, he noticed that the candles were dimmed, but not naturally. He had never seen anything like it. A shadowy creature and now dimmed light, even the candles themselves seemed normal when he looked at them. A strange feeling haunted him, but it couldn't dampen his curiosity to find out what they were working with. Had they entered some kind of portal? A parallel world? There were too few clues to find an answer right now. 

The reddish light caught his attention too, and when Bonnie's voice rang out, he tried his best to hide any excitement he might be feeling at that second. "No, we shouldn't." He shook his head, but then looked at her through his lashes. "But we do." The corners of his mouth twisted into a smirk as he reached for the doorknob with his hand. As soon as he touched it, a melodic laugh rang through the corridor. It started out barely audible, but picked up in volume as it rushed past them and died away at the end of the corridor. Dipper winced, then laughed. "They have really good special effects." A click sounded and the door directly in front of them slid silently open. "Like I said." 

The grin on his lips widened as he pulled the door wide open and glanced into the room. "Second to you." He tried to be a gentleman, but he was right behind Bonnie as they passed through the door. 

They entered a room bathed in a red light from which it was impossible to recognise where it came. In the centre of the room was a heavy wooden desk and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled not only with books, but also with trinkets and memorabilia. Their footsteps were muffled by a heavy, thick carpet as they entered the room. The air was different. Heavier, not as cold as the air in the corridor and infused with a scent that Dipper couldn't place. It was something heavy. Tart, perhaps. Something Dipper had smelled before but couldn't place at the moment. It smelled of citrus too as he took another cautious breath. 

The door fell into its lock, but it wasn't the only one leading out of the room. Dipper tried the one they had already come through, but it was locked. He tried another, which was also locked, and decided not to try the last door. "We're trapped." But since this is a haunted house and supposed to be fun, he surmised there was a key here. Maybe someone was watching them, which would explain the feeling of being watched that he still had. So what were they supposed to do to unlock the doors? 

"After all, it's just us here." It could be good or bad to be locked up with someone you barely knew, but for him it was a good sign that they weren't both locked up here with a shadowy creature. 

"Do you visit haunted houses often?"

He followed the bookshelves half around the room, touching a shelf here and there, trying out a book, looking for something like a switch or a knob. "Where should I hide a hint?" It wasn't supposed to be a question for Bonnie, but it slipped past his lips anyway. When he came to the heavy chair behind the desk - the back had been facing them - he realised that someone was sitting in it. "Oh, not alone at all," he muttered and moved closer to take a look, but what he imagined to be a person turned out to be a skeleton. "Um", his eyes fell on Bonnie again. "Do you want to dance with the dead? He's got a key round his neck." 

Looking at Bonnie, Dipper missed the skeleton's moving finger, which began to move its bones as it awoke. 

[firebrnd]

🎲 - Pick a random question to answer from this list.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 - Do they have any siblings?

Bonnie has an older sister called Mary. Unlike Bonnie, Mary never tapped into her witch abilities and chose a different path, working as a nurse. Despite their differences, they share a close bond and Bonnie secretly admires Mary's strength and compassion in her own field. Mary is like an anchor for Bonnie, to whom she can hold on when necessary.

[mikaels0n-elijah-writing]

Elijah didn't want to scare the other man or anything like that, but it was hard to avoid that when the other was distracted and writing down important things in a diary. Or something like that. He had rarely met anyone who actually wrote in a diary to gather useful information. Many processed their thoughts and feelings, became vulnerable. Noticing surprise on the stranger's face, Elijah had to smile slightly.

"Imagine, there is such a thing," but it was obvious that he was not human in nature. Who was he supposed to pretend to here? Dark hair framed a handsome face that was marked with traces of the past. A conspicuous scratch on his neck that could only have come from a vampire. How unsightly. But for now, Elijah remained in a wait-and-see position. He didn't want to make a rash move and a) drive the other away or b) provoke a combative response. Because that was what the other was preparing for. Tension radiated from him, coupled with a mixture of uncertainty. He didn't know what to make of Elijah, nor the other way round.

"I''m curious about those who can kill vampires and survive," the vampire answered the man's question and his shoulders hunched for a moment before he peacefully buried his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers. He wanted to make a relaxed impression. Then the vampire let out a sigh and raised his hands in the air placatingly. ‘I'm not a will-less monster like the one you killed. I waste nothing if it's useful.’ His gaze fell on the desiccated body. ‘Which is more than you can say for him here.’ Then he fixed on his neck.

"I can heal you. It won't cost you anything and it won't hurt." He tilted his head slightly to the side. His gaze bored into the other's. Would he accept the offer? ‘I reckon you've got two minutes before you lose consciousness and I can do what I want anyway." He tried to give the words a friendly smile so that he wouldn't panic. "Or I could just leave you here. Something's bound to find you and be glad of a warm meal." At least he offered him an alternative. Not a good one, but humans were inclined to choose their own fate. Or at least to try.

the undead you have been fighting are people i killed with my own hands.

It was not so easy to write a journal and collect the creatures that lived side by side with humans on this earth. As it seems to Dipper, he tried not to fight them. But what do you do when you're staring into the eyes of a Gremgoblin and facing your worst nightmares, when you're faced with a hungry zombie, a creepy Time Lord who thought you almost destroyed the world, or even a vampire? 

It was always easy for Dipper to unravel the mysteries. He found that he had a natural feel for them. Because he was a part of them without being a part of them. Attending a college that trained his skills, honed his natural instincts, and trained him to do whatever he needed to do, Dipper kept finding himself in situations that no one had prepared him for. 

“The undead you have been fighting are people I killed with my own hands.” 

Dipper became a statue. Every muscle in his body was stretched to breaking point, and for a second he forgot to breathe. 

Shit. Not another one. He had barely got used to the one that lay on the ground in front of him and had already driven a peg into his heart. The creature's skin had dried out in seconds, and Dipper felt like it would crumble to dust and bone if he touched it. But what else could he do? The scratch on his neck was a good example of the intentions of the one he had already killed. And this town was full of those who wanted his blood. This wasn't the first vampire he'd fought here.

Letting his breath out of his lungs, Dipper turned around. He's not sure what he'd expected, but not what came into his line of sight.

"You look human." The words escaped his lips the moment Dipper realised he wasn't standing in front of a monster like the one on the floor. This man... If he hadn't said those words to Dipper, he would have assumed he was human. He was barely taller than him, with dark brown eyes and hair and a face that Dipper could only describe as aristocratic. He was stunning. But everything in Dipper is on alert. Monsters that had the shape of a monster, he could handle. But monsters that looked like humans? 

He gulped, already picturing in his head all the possible scenarios of how this situation would end. He wasn't going to win against another guy, but damn it, he definitely wasn't going to give up without a fight.

But the man didn't attack him. Seconds passed, Dipper was still standing. Distrust spread through him and he put his hand on the knife on his belt. Did he want to play with Dipper? 

"Did you... are you... Don't you want to..." Dipper began, but wasn't sure how to begin or even how to finish the sentence. "What's that? I create the monsters you killed in my town", he tried to darken his voice as he tried to mimic the man, "And then what? You stare at me?" He raised an eyebrow and tried to hold his position, but the blood that had soaked his T-shirt left a sickening feeling on his skin, and Dipper touched his neck, only to flinch. His gaze travelled to his fingertips, which were painted with his blood. Maybe it wasn't just a scratch on his neck. "I won't make the first move, if that's what you're hoping for." His gaze returned to the stranger.