#she's still suggesting that it looks like i still owe $50 which i am quite sure i don't unless the argument is that when the claim was sent
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dealing with the insurance company and then the clinic itself via a "health advocate" who agrees that this looks shady and she's not seeing the same thing on her end that i'm seeing on the bill is just. exactly what i wanted to spend my work break doing. fantastic. fun times.
#adulting#listen i know it's a whiny cliche but adulting fucking sucks#she's still suggesting that it looks like i still owe $50 which i am quite sure i don't unless the argument is that when the claim was sent#i had not met my deductible because the claim was apparently sent five months after the visit immediately after my insurance year restarted#like literally two days after that date and hmm. no. i do not believe that is legitimate.#i do not believe that it took five months to process a claim that somehow COINCIDENTALLY went through right after my#deductible restarted#that's shady as shit and i don't buy it for one goddamned second
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About the Interview
Since I posted the interview with J - a woman who has described herself to me as one of Queenâs first âgroupiesâ - there has naturally been a lot of discussion about the veracity of the interview, the source, and my own motivations in posting it. I fully expected that, and I will say once more that nobody (apart from a small handful of anonymous trolls) has behaved inappropriately in these discussions. I have not received any âhateâ because of this. There is no âdramaâ. Nobody is wrong, or a party-pooper, or attacking me by expressing their doubts. I have seen some awful bile spat at people anonymously recently, and that kind of behaviour has got to stop.
Now, if you don't think I am genuine, there is obviously nothing I can do about that.Â
However, what I am hoping to do here is add as much transparency as I can in regard to how and why the interview happened, and also share my own full thoughts on it with you.Â
First things first. No unverified, anonymous source can be seen as definitive proof of anything, ever. That is my stance. I have myself been criticised for so much as suggesting that other anonymous sources tied in with Freddieâs history are not 100% proof of one thing or another. But for me, an anonymous source can never mean more than at best: this seems very likely, but we canât be 100% certain.
Perhaps I was naive to think that what I considered to be enough of a disclaimer at the beginning of the interview, was enough. My intention was to express that while I, personally, believe J to be a) the person she says she is and b) genuine about what she remembers, that does not mean I believe everything she has told me is fact or happened in that exact way. I thought this was obvious. Perhaps I was unclear, and I apologise for that.Â
So let me be clear. There is nobody in the world who has perfect, factual recollections of what happened to them almost 50 years ago. Not even J herself claims for one moment that this is the case. She mentions several times that these are old memories from when she was very young, that she indulged in recreational drugs at the time, and that her views - of course - carry a personal bias. All this, I thought, would be enough for readers to know not to take everything they read at face value.
All of the above is why I kept my own thoughts and notes to a minimum within the interview, why I didnât correct or point out obvious mistakes. I simply assumed that everybody would go away and read the interview against all the sources and information they already have, as I have done myself.
But maybe that was somewhat irresponsible of me, and I should have been the first person to dig into how Jâs memories fit in (or donât) with the information which is already out there, and how to put the two together. While I refrained from sharing all my thoughts alongside the interview (although I have fragmentally done so in response to other people since), others like @quirkysubjectâ (here), @iwilltrytobereasonableâ (here), @emmaandorlandoâ (here), @sarinataylorâ and @talkingismylifewritesâ (here) all had some very good things to say. All of them make excellent points. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES SEND THEM NASTY MESSAGES. I frankly canât believe I have to say this at all.
I found myself in a difficult position, because as the person who had spoken to J and asked her all these questions, I did not feel as though I could dissect her words as freely as anybody else. She has put a lot of trust in me, and I do not want her to think that I question her honesty and intentions. Because I donât. If I hadnât felt as sure as I reasonably can be that she is the person she says she is, and that her story is genuine from her perspective, if I had been in any doubt about that, I would not have made it public.
Here's the thing:
Even if you don't believe J knew the boys, her recollections of the time period alone are still valuable and incredibly interesting, giving us a glimpse of early 1970s London.Â
But I do believe J. Why?
Before I answer that, let me just say: I fully realise that of course the fact that it was my story J happened across, and me she decided to speak to because of it, makes me more inclined to want to believe her. However, other authors I'm friends with, as well as myself, have received messages from older people several times before. It does trigger nostalgia when a story is very strongly rooted in a time somebody has lived through. There are older people in the fandom. (I recently ran a poll and all age groups were represented even here on Tumblr.)Â
Now, on to the reasons why my communication with J has felt nothing but authentic to me.
1. She was never in any rush to get in touch with me or relate information to me. It took her a few days to email me after she first spoke to me in the comment section, where I begged her to please get in touch. She then sent me the same email five times, over two days, because she couldnât quite work my email address out at first.Â
I ended up asking several questions more than once to get an answer because they were overlooked. The conversation went off on tangents, and we chatted about her weekend at her friendâs house (and I was presented with a beautiful snapshot of the beach), the memory box her daughter made for her, her work and other things. There were stretches of days at a time when J simply didnât find the time to get back to me. And I may have badgered her with a few too many emails asking her to please remember to answer my questions when she has a moment. In short, it was the opposite of somebody rushing to share their story. I was doing all the rushing. (I realise that I am asking you to take my word for this, but this did not all happen in a vacuum. @plainxteâ, @quirkysubjectâ, @fingersfallingupwardsâ, @onegoldenglanceâ and @freddieofheartsâ witnessed the process first-hand, as well as my excitement and some of Jâs original emails.)
2. J was very trusting. I know her full name, where she lives and her place of work. She sent me current pictures of herself and her husband unprompted. At no point did she ask me not to reveal her identity, that is a call I made because I did not want to expose her to any possible harassment.
3. There were a few things in her account of what she remembered which were so obviously at odds with what we know to be true - itâs well-known John is a bit taller than Roger, for example, but J remembered him shorter, Queen went to Sydney in â85, J remember it as â84 - that I couldnât help but think, if I was somebody who was trying to convince others of a made up story, the first thing I would surely do is make absolutely certain to get the facts which are easily findable right. Instead, J always lead with: this was all a long time ago, Iâm sorry, Iâm doing my best trying to remember.
I realise that a very clever hoaxer could do all this and convince me. But here the question has to be, to what end? This would be quite an act for someone to arrange, to make it seem quite so naturalistic. Nobody would go through the trouble of doing that for nothing. Thereâs no monetary gain. Scandal? There is nothing scandalous in the interview. Attention? J is barely an active member of the fandom. She has managed to create a Tumblr though: @since72â. There is one post currently.Â
It also took her a couple of days to get back to me after I posted the interview.
In brief, I have no logical explanation for why somebody would go to these lengths and fool me so cleverly, with such attention to detail, when there seems to be nothing in it for them. Why then did J bother to talk to me at all? What was her motivation? Well, after I thanked her profusely for doing this, she simply said that she felt she owed me as reading my story had brought back so many memories for her.
All of the above is why I strongly feel that J is very much real and genuine. But I completely understand that it all hinges on the fact that in order to believe everything I say is true, you would have to trust me. And I know that as I am just another person on the internet, you have no reason to do that. But Iâll get to me in a moment.
Here are a few more doubts which I have seen come up with regard to J.
Why would she be reading fanfiction about people she knew? Thatâs weird.
To be perfectly honest, exactly that was my first reaction, too. But then I thought about it and talked to friends about it.Â
Firstly, J says herself that she was never a close friend. I agree that it would be far weirder to read fanfiction about somebody you knew very well. Having said that, John Deaconâs son has been known to read Queen fanfic about his father (and read it out on his YouTube channel). But I think given that itâs been half a century and J has been watching Queen in the public eye ever since, it isnât really all that strange to read about fictional versions of them.
Secondly, a friend of mine noticed that it seems as though older people in the fandom find J overall more credible than younger people. Iâm 35, and it is true that the older we get, the more we look for the things which remind us of our younger years. There is an urge to remember and re-live. You can trust me on this, or you can ask anyone over the age of 30 or 40. Nostalgia is real, and it only comes to you with age. Why would somebody who had briefly brushed shoulders with people who later became celebrities not take an interest in them later? It seems natural that she would. As J says, she never stopped being a fan of Queenâs music and came across fanfic when she looked up Adam Lambert. Is it really so strange that she would find fanfic about them entertaining? Having given it all this thought, I really donât think so.
Itâs unrealistic that she was so young.
This is something I have to disagree with. Times were different. Pete Townshend entered Ealing Art School at age 16, according to Wikipedia. My mother (currently 62) moved 600km away from home at the age of 15 to study piano at music college. I myself moved out from home at 17 (no tragic reasons whatsoever), but thatâs beside the point. I have seen it framed in a way where it was said that âIt isnât realistic that a 16-year-old was hanging out with Queen who were all in their 20sâ. I agree, it would be a little strange if the story was that one 16-year-old girl was hanging out with Queen by herself as their good buddy. But that is not the story. (Even though it is well-known that during the 60s and 70s, young teenaged groupies did in fact hang out with rock groups very frequently. Of course, J was not that kind of groupie.) She was simply part of a large circle of friends, by her own admission not a close friend of the band. Personally, I struggle to see how this is unrealistic in any way.Â
It seems super suspicious that she lost her photos in a flood.
Yes, it does. I agree. J realises that, too.Â
Like @quirkysubjectâ said in her post, I donât blame anyone who is too sceptical at this point. But there actually was a pretty bad flood in Australia in 1988.
There are mistakes in Jâs story!
Yes, there are! Let me point them out to you. I already mentioned Johnâs height and Queen being in Australia in â85, not â84. I also think that her perception that Freddie was taller than Roger in â72, but no longer in the 80s, had everything to do with platform shoes. I have to say that I did ask J some questions which I knew were things which are almost impossible to remember about people you werenât particularly close to. I knew there was no way she would be able to accurately recall their heights, but I still wanted to know what the impression was which she had come away with. I donât for one moment think she could possibly know why and if Freddieâs nickname was really âFreddie Babyâ at EAS well before she went there. But I still wanted to hear what she thought of that. This is why I stated specifically that this entire interview consists of one womanâs subjective opinions and memories. That alone means you can absolutely not take any of it as definitive fact. That just isnât how memory works.
Kensington Market and the stall:
Jâs answers on this one thoroughly confused me. Not only did she say that while she saw Freddie at the market a lot, Roger was hardly ever there, but there was also some Indian man working at the stall during the week (who I donât think could have been Freddieâs father). She saw Freddie at multiple stalls, a girl named Jill also worked at the stall⊠and J was under the impression that Roger and Freddie hadnât even started the stall. None of this made a whole lot of sense to me, until somebody pointed out that the original stall owned by Roger and Freddie must have closed in the second half of 1971. (Sources: Queen in Cornwall & Queen: As it Began)
It is confirmed (same sources as above) that Freddie worked at the market until as late as 1974. I think it is therefore entirely possible that J would have seen him working at Alanâs stall, or helping out at other stalls, and the likelihood that Roger would have come to hang out with him on a weekend is fairly high, in my opinion. Later, reading about Freddie and Roger running a stall, J would have had no reason to think that this wasnât the same stall she had seen them at. And yes, this is of course only a theory.
The gay pride march:
@rushingheadlongâ, who has recently done a lot of fantastic research about Tim, confirms that thereâs no chance (as far as we know) that Tim could have been at the march. Did any of them really go? Is J misremembering entirely? Could it be that one of them or two of them went, and looking back, J remembers it as all of them (minus John, however) because she was used to mostly seeing them all together? Does she remember them from another protest march and got it mixed up with the gay rights march? I canât say. The march and who exactly went is a big question mark. Even J herself is only âpretty sureâ that they were all there, and I have to say, I canât tell you who was where exactly when I think back to when I was 16. Certainly not when there was a big group of people around. And that was only 20 years ago for me.
Lastly, Iâm going to try and use the guide our awesome local historian @emmaandorlandoâ provided on how to analyse new sources. Of course, Iâm not a historian (and Iâm also partly the source by being the interviewer, so I can perhaps only do this impertectly), but letâs give it a go.
1. Who wrote this document?Â
âWritten historical records were created by individuals in a specific historical setting for a particular purpose. Until you know who created the document you have read, you cannot know why it was created or what meanings its author intended to impart by creating itâ.
In this case, the answer is two-fold because essentially I wrote the interview, in as far as that I asked the questions, I gave it shape and presented it in the form in which it came, but the answers are Jâs. I completely understand that this is already a big stumbling block for many, because not only am I presenting her as an anonymous source, but many of you donât know anything about me. If you follow me on Tumblr, you will know that I have shared more with the internet than is probably wise. But still, I am somebody you know little about, presenting to you a person you know even less about. Whether you trust me or not is entirely down to your own judgement and instinct, and that will be different for everybody.
(Iâve seen it said that Iâm plugging my own work through this interview. If that was my plan, Iâm afraid itâs failed miserably. I looked, and DoA has gained a whopping 2 or 3 kudos.)
2. Who is the intended audience?
âThe relationship between author and audience is one of the most basic elements of communication and one that will tell you much about the purpose of the document. Think of the difference between the audience for a novel and that for a diary, or for a law and for a secret treaty. Knowing the audience allows you to begin to ask important questions, such as; âShould I believe what I am being told?ââ
The intended audience is the Queen fandom on Tumblr and AO3. I have no interest in sharing this anywhere else because Iâm not familiar with the other fan communities (Facebook? Instagram?) and wouldnât know how to go about it. For J, the intended audience was mostly me, an author she likes who was very interested in her memories.
3. Why was this document written?
âEverything is written for a reason. Understanding the purpose of a historical document is critical to analysing the strategies that the author employs within it. A document intended to convince will employ logic; a document intended to entertain will employ fancy; a document attempting to motivate will employ emotional appeals. In order to find these strategies, you must know what purpose the document was intended to serve.â
I got really, really excited. That is the reason. When J got in touch with me, I had a decision to make. I could ask her all the questions I wanted privately and share her answers only with my "inner circleâ of fandom friends, or I could share everything with the fandom spaces where Iâve been very active in the last two years. I wanted to share the excitement and decided to do the latter.
I also wanted to present the interview in a way where it would be an engaging, well-structured read and not simply all of her emails to me dumped here with a quick âthere you goïżœïżœ. So I tried to wrap it in a beautiful âpackageâ, which is why I asked her for her art, for example.
4. What type of document is this?
âThe form of a document is vital to its purpose. The form or genre in which a document appears is always carefully chosen. Genre contains its own conventions, which fulfil the expectations of author and audience.â
An interview, written by somebody who has never interviewed anyone before.
5. Can I believe this document?
âTo be successful, a document designed to persuade, to recount events, or to motivate people to action must be believable to its audience. For the critical historical reader, it is that very believability that must be examined. Every author has a point of view, and exposing the assumptions of the document is an essential task for the reader.Â
You must treat all claims sceptically (even while admiring audacity, rhetorical tricks, and clever comparisons). One question you certainly want to ask is, âis this a likely story?â Testing the credibility of a document means looking at it from the other side.â
This is for all of you to decide for yourselves, and that was always the case. Far be it from me to be upset with anyone who straight up doesnât believe a word I say, doesnât believe J is real or any other scepticism. Iâll say it again, DO NOT harass anyone for expressing their opinions on this! It is NOT WRONG to discuss a new source! Itâs wonderful that people are doing it!
And so, we come to that last question: Is this a likely story?Â
Personally, I can firmly answer that with: Yes. In my personal opinion, it is. I find Jâs story very likely and there is close to nothing that makes me question that these are indeed her real memories. But given the nature of human memory, they are just as imperfect as anybody elseâs and do not, and should not, supersede any factual, verified information we already have.
With that, I hope to have provided a bit more clarity and transparency, and leave you - as before - to make up your own minds.
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This is a long story, but I think itâs a good one
For weeks my DM (my roommate) was hyping up the next game. It was hard to schedule a video call, so she was always writing something I couldnât look at or painting a mini I couldnât see. We were playing a campaign in a bit of a mix between modern and medieval. Our objective was to find an archmageâs artifact in an abandoned laboratory. Of course it had to be a laboratory.Â
My character was an elf-orc wizlock named Alta whose father was a scientist. A simple explanation of her backstory is that they lived in a town called Vassali, but were shunned due to being inhuman mages. When a tornado and hurricane combined into quite a literal perfect storm, the villageâs leader had all the explanation necessary to execute the scapegoats. Alta managed to escape with a gash on her back, but her father, Reluvethel, was beheaded.Â
Fast forward an ambiguous number of years, Alta, Berrian (a moon elf fighter), and Katherine (a gnomish druid) were traveling the lab. Entering a room with a beaten door, we began a battle with the monster my DM was talking about all this time.Â
The battle itself was kind of underwhelming. Everyone in the group made their own cool plays, but it was ultimately killed while I was two death saves down. Being healed again, I saw as the creature crumpled to rust. Everyone was reduced, except itâs white metal head, which clashed to the floor.
Itâs a good thing my partymates are new players, or else it would have been obvious that my Eldritch Sight was, in fact, not a wizard thing. I told them the head was magic. They predictably started fighting over it, while I slipped away to find what was magic in the cabinets.
I firstly found an amulet, which I silently tucked away without investigating. That, however was not all. I told my party that I had found a series of documents. The DM pulled out a physical copy.Â
The front was a series of signatures, with a line of scratching and holes. A few of the names were written in different scripts, which I deciphered with my Eyes of the Rune Keeper. All of the names had a latin lettered version above them, exept the head researcher. I asked my DM with dread what the elvish script and signature said. Reluvethel.
Of course.
I hoped it was only a hint of things to come later in the dungeon, and began to read the rest.
âExperiment overview: The development of an intelligent war machine (sanctioned & sponsored by Fen Labs) to aid the great country of Valoria.â
Below were four drawings. A humanoid with barely distinguished pointed ears behind a large hole and scratches, labeled J.D. An unscathed human with a large scar on her face labeled Ana D. A smiling dragonborn labeled Telvar with scratches on their neck. Another humanoid with pointed ears and what seem to be small fangs under a clump of scratches labeled Selva.
âDay one: Iâm glad that Lady Fen let us begin this experiment. They even gave us our own testing hall under the mountain! Perfect secluded location for our little project. Will update further.â Lady fen was one of the Archmageâs colleagues. She was the nicest, and said Reluvethel used to work with her in the lab. This page, along with others, had sketches of the machine we fought, cited as being drawn by Ana.
âDay 2: Still constructing the outer shell, meanwhile me & Telvar have been thinking up ways to engineer itâs sentience. Our list:Â
Magic spell
Humanoid parts
Haunting
Realistic AIâ
âDay 4: Lady Fen came by to check on my progress today. She said that sheâs proud of me! We even tried an animation spell, but without success.â
âDay 6: We tried to place a deer heart into the frontal compartment. Will document further.â
âDay 9: Itâs alive. ITâS ALIVE! It seems to be skittish and passive. J.D suggests putting in bear or monster organs. Weâll just have to deal with the smell.â
âDay 13: Bear organs work & weâve achieved the desired temperament for a war machine. Lady Fen will be so happy.â
âDay 14: Fen was happy.â
âDay 16: Ana suggested we take it to the next level & put something intelligentâs organs in. I agreed, Telvor & Selva were passive, but J.D. was so revolted that he left. His loss.â
âDay 21: Fen supplied us with the organs. They showed up in a box at the door. I̶ ̶s̶h̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶a̶s̶k̶ ̶h̶o̶ Iâm grateful.â
âDay 24: Human parts work, but it canât talk and seems confused. I wonder if multiple sets will fix it or make it worse.â
âDay 27: Fen supplied more at our request. Selva seems reluctant to continue, but  itâs for scienceâs sake that I do this. I wonât stop.âÂ
âDay 28: Ana here. Dr. Maiava (my surname) seems to be very interested in this. Will ask about it. Perhaps he does not want to disappoint Fen?â
âDay 30: Selva walked into the lab to see that our creation had died. It wrote on the wall in blood: âSo long, G0od DoctOR!â. It appears to have been a suicide. Maybe the extra set of organs drove it to the brink. Fen wonât be happy. Selva quit.â
âDay 34:Â Ana again. Got a set of organs from Fen. Dr. Maiava is shut up in his workshop. Heâs modifying the mask to have a mouth.â
âDay 36: Itâs alive again and can now talk, as well as see. It seems to have retained memories from when it was alive. It told us to explain, so we did, but it was ecstatic to learn that it was practically immortal now. As long as it cooperates, Iâll be happy.â
âDay 44: The first battle was today. It was just some skirmishers, but our creation was efficient and ecstatic. Fen was just as happy.â
âDay 45: Another push into enemy territory, another victory!â
âDay 46:Â Dr. Maiava & Fen wanted to unveil our pet project, but Tevlar opposed. He said that if it went wrong, they could execute us for unethical experimentation. We decided to listen.â
âDay 50: It killed, but this time it enjoyed it far too much.â
âDay 68: It went power crazy it killed tevlar someone please help PLEASE NOT YET ITâS BANGING ON THE DOOR NOT YET I DONâT WANT TO DIE BY AN EXTENSION OF MY OWN HANDâ
âDay 70: Ana here. I dealt with it, but D̶r̶.̶ ̶M̶a̶i̶a̶v̶a̶ Reluvethel fled to Vassali. Something about a family to live for? Iâm building a tower to keep watch over the mountain & scare of investigators. Will update.â
Day 210: I got the news that Reluvethel is dead. I know how much he loved this project, like a child. And seeing as the soul inhabiting the shell retains memory... I know what I should do. Heâd want this.â
âDay 416: I̶t̶â̶s̶ Heâs feral. I locked the lab up for good. Heâs too far gone to reason with. I only wish that the daughter never finds out. If she finds this, I am so deeply sorry. I thought it would work. Iâm so sorry, Rel. I hope this book can jog your memory.â
The next few pages are blank with a series of scratches.
âAl t a. I am OK. It is OK.â
Each time I read his name, I hoped more that there wouldnât be a reason to tell the rest who Reluvethel was. Of course that couldnât happen.
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Bombay - A city that I always love to visit during the monsoons, but this time the purpose of my visit was different, I was getting married, and I wanted to prepare my trouser from the colorful city.
I love the rich Indian culture, itâs arts and I enjoyed reading the poems of Tagore, going around the city that never sleeps, the noises of the barking sales people, the smell of different dishes cooked on the streets, people that were chatting on a cup of tea, or meal, roads that were almost packed with traffic and people, you can smell the diesel all over, but when thereâs rain, you can feel the beautiful drops on your face, get a fresh air and breathe deeply with the fragrance of the first drops on the grass, that was Mumbai for me, a city I would love to visit again and again. I had prepared my shopping list and was ready to go to the Shops I frequently visit, to buy my wedding items. It was Sunday and I thought I would take a break on that day, go for a walk, or just sit at the Taj Mahal Hotelâs coffee shop reading a book, or just enjoying the view of the hotel, the lady who was serving me, Reha was her name, asked me whatâs my plan for the weekend? I just shook my shoulders and said nothing! So she asked me if she can suggest something nice and relaxing for me, I was happy for the idea and agreed on it, so she told me, take a walk today at the Marine drive towards the sunset, you will never see like this view anywhere in the world. I agreed to her idea, and headed to the Marine drive (a 3.6 KM long promenade , known as the Queenâs necklace, at night the street light resemble a string of pearls in a necklace, I got a cup of tea, facing the Arabian ocean, a cool breeze touched my face, I closed my eyes to enjoy that moment, kept everything on pose in my mind, as if I donât need to think of anything no matter how important it is, or close to my heart, that moment I can still remember it, it was a moment of peace and love of my soul and mind, a pure meditation moment, which is so important for our souls and minds. sat facing the sea and the cup of chai (tea) made wonders to me. I just went on looking deep into the waves and felt the wonderful rhythm of the water splashing the rocks, it made me feel that no matter how large my difficulties are, it will one day vanish, and so on I enjoyed my moments, till I could hear a lovely music playing from a distance. I looked back, it was a young boy around 11 years playing an instrument in which most of its thread were broken, he had few ones they made a beautiful music, he came towards me, and I thought he came to me because I looked like a tourist, but my silly mind expectations were wrong. The little boy was blind, and just felt that someone is sitting there, he had a nice voice and kept on playing a famous Bollywood movie song (as he mentioned later). After he completed his song, I told you have a very nice voice. I think he was too used to those words, he smiled and told me thank you madam, at that moment I wanted to know more about him, so I asked him can we sit and chat. He laughed and said what we talk about madam?
Whatâs your name: Raja,
Raja whatâs the meaning of your name I asked, he said it means the King. I said wow great, he told me âI was born on the slums of Mumbai, never saw my parents, the streets of this land are my parents. I often cry or laugh here, I feel this is my parentâs arms that hug me in difficult moments. As you see, I was born blind, never saw the colors of the world, I donât know what does white mean or red, am used to only one color, black and I enjoy that color, because itâs with me foreverâ. Where do you stay Raja? He said I donât have a house or family. In the morning I work in a bakery shop where I have to sort out every 5 pieces of bread into bags and keep them ready for the customers, the bakery owner is a very kind man he lets me sleep at night in the shop, and gives me Rs. 50/- ($ 0.7) everyday as a salary. After that I come here to sing and earn some extra pocket money, life is beautiful for me and very kind too. I was surprised and asked him how is that possible Raja? You canât see, you donât have a family or a house to go and feel secure, no future as you didnât have any qualifications. Raja kept quite for a moment, and with a smile he answered, âMadam, deeply am a very happy person, I donât owe anyone and no one owes me anything, thatâs true I donât have a family or a house to go to by end of the day, I didnât go to school and have never seen how books look like, never saw my parents or heard their voices, never had any sort of security in my life, am on the streets all of my life, in hot seasons and rainy days. But one thing madam, I never thought of jealousy nor negativity towards others, as God made me blind, he made my heart blind too, for the worlds love. I live a very simple life, what I need in life I have, i.e. food, work, a place I can sleep and a wonderful instrument I play on and get money, what else I would need in life, thatâs my luxuryâ. For a moment I felt so bad for myself, I thought how greedy I am, or we all are. We have every piece of comfort in life and we still are sad because we didnât get more. We are so selfish towards ourselves, we never thought that happiness comes with small things too and loved gifts which are not branded items. Our minds have got over materialistic things, greedy and even by having all the luxuries, we still complaint,,, Raja,, the young boy taught me to look at things with love and enjoyment, instead of the value of itâŠThank you Raja⊠and see you at the same place, one day againâŠ. By: Muna Jassim Fakhri, for comments pls email: [email protected]
#short story#positive thoughts#inspiration#positive mental attitude#wholesome#motivation#positivity#self care
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Chapter 4
(Wigfrid notices something amiss and Winona agrees, but Wolfgang be the big trusting teadybear he is :3c kind long )
âThat is an unusual sight!â Wigfrid stated quite loudly, but Winona just hummed and continued tinkering with the gears from a bishop and a rook they took down earlier that day, already used to her outburst, âWhat is?â âWhere Wilsön and Maxwell always that clöse??â This caught Winona's attention immediately, whipping her head up she saw Maxwell and Wilson talking while walking up to Wilsons work tent, even pulling up the flap and letting him enter first. What. Winona looked at Wigfrid and shared a look of â Did we seriously just see thatâ, âMaxwell isnât known to be kind unless he wants somethingâŠ.â Wigfrid nodded her head in agreement, â I donât trust it either, but it dösenât löök like they were arguing?â Winona shook her headâ Well whatever it is, I am sure Wilson can handle it, he dealt with him beforeâ
âWho dealt with who before?â
Winona and Wigfrid looked over to see Wolfgang, Winona speaked upâ We were just talking about how Wilson and Maxwell have seem to gotten closer the past few daysâ, The burly man put on a thinking gesture with his hand brushing his mustache, â Tiny man talk to Tall man quite much, I saw them doing chores together, unusual indeedâ He still had an accent but his english was better nowadays due to Wickerbottom helping him out, she somehow knew a bit of Russian, she always seemed to know almost everything. â No need worry of little man, he is strong in mind, and in body, Ms. Wickerbottom said no worry, he is not to harm tiny man, he is friendâ, and with that he walked off to put down the logs he was carrying next to Wickerbottom who was busy weaving. âOddâ Winona stated, but if Wickerbottom was ok with it, then she would be ok, if not a bit wary, she was fond of WIlson and didnât want him to get hurt in any way. Wigfrid had thought it over â Wickerböttöm can be as wise as Ădin at times, I trust her, but let's keep an eye ön him at least '' They both nodded and got back to work on tearing up the mechanical beasts for parts.
Maxwell and Wilson were in the tent looking over the sketches of the guitar Wilson was doing â No- that doesn't look right, you have to put the strings into a wooden block at the bottom, and the proportions are a bit wrong on the strings, each one is a different thicknessâ, Wilson nodded looking at the sketches and added notes to the side of the paper, â Oh! I was thinking that the steel wool we can get from the Ewecus can be unravelled and straightened into the strings!â Maxwell hummed in agreement, this.. Was oddly nice, Maxwell had thought to himself, watching as Wilson was talking about ways to put things together and whatnot. Really it was endearing watching this in person rather than from the throne, he really liked to watch Wilson survive, it was quite funny, he had to comment on everything, and get into everything, he had really felt sorry for Wilson to take over the throne but he was too selfish, âbetter him than meâ, was the last thought he had before he turned to dust, only to be brought right back to him. He would have believed it was fate, but in a place like this, there wasnât really any mistake, after all the slap fight they had when they first saw each other outside of the throne room probably gave the shadows something to laugh about-âUm Maxwell, did you hear my other suggestion?â Maxwell a bit startled, straightened up, forgetting there was a lantern hanging just above his head,Thunk! He sucked in a breath between teeth in a low hiss as he pushed the lantern out of the way, glaring as if it personally offended him (which it did I might add) he heard loud boyish laughter and looked down to see Wilson practically dying in his laughter âHahHAHhahah!O-*giggles*-Oh my god, hah!â Maxwell grumbled, âFind something funny PAL?â Maxwell basically hissed at the shorter man, who was still laughing hard, flushed and eyes pricked with tears,âI-HAhah-I am so-sorry but that, t-that was too funnyâ Maxwell then sneered,â Ha ha ha, laugh it up now, but you realize I have seen many more embarrassing things from you on the throne, what about that incident with the honey? ripped out a few hairs didnât it?â That shut Wilson up real quick, he gaped like a fish up at Maxwell, red as the salmon in the salt pondsâ Y-you!-good heavens you saw THAT!?â Wilson buried his face in his hands,â T-that was one time...and it was an a-accident!â Maxwell smirked,â Honey isnât the substitute for lube here pal, there are better optionsâ Wilson looked positively mortified, then curious in a second, what did Maxwell mean by-â âbetter optionsâ? What does that mean?
âExactly what it means Higgsbury, would you like a few tips?â Wilson looked at him skeptically, up then down, then up again,â How old are you?â ...Ow, Maxwell thought, Well to be fair he did look.. A bit old, he was around 50 when he came to this world, and that certainly wasnât that old (It certainly was),â I am 50 Higsbury, not 100, despite how many years go by, we will never age hereâ, Higgsbury considered this for a moment, then turned back to his work shaking his head,â Alright Maxy, but donât think I will forget about your little incident, so what would wood should we use?âMaxwell was taken aback by how the man was switching topics so quickly that he couldnât keep up at times, maybe it was some form of ADHD? He shook his head. It was better than going back to the topic of his age,â Hm I was thinking of Birchwood? It is softer and easier to bend and carveâ Taking his place behind Higgsbury, not seeing the little smirk Wilson had,âSofter and easier to bend huh?âMaxwell scowled,â I do hope you are talking about the wood Higgsbury â,Wilson let out another laugh at Maxwell's expense, and it is to say that evening was filled with large amounts of arguing and laughing alike.
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hey charity, can you describe in depth why you mistyped as ISFJ, and found your true type of ENFP (what lead you to it, does it feel like the one, etc). also what do you score on function tests?
Sure. You should know I blame my Enneagram 6 for⊠like, all of it.
I came on the scene assuming I was an ENFP right from the start, but thatâs before I was introduced to all the stereotypes which focus on behavior and not mental processing. I thought the general profiles of the ENFP fit me really well â but then I started getting doubts because⊠honestly, I donât just leap into things without looking or thinking about them first; I have not hopped on a plane to a foreign country and gone off to do exciting things without a safety net; I do not move apartments or change boyfriends every 4 months out of boredom; I can finish whatever books I start writing, without getting distracted and leaving a lifetime of half-finished tasks behind me; and I use my Ne for more than just idealism. At the time I knew nothing about Enneagram, nor that all of the above is Ne-dom + Enneagram 7 (with an sx variant of idealism). Plus, my 6 is anxious about the future to some extent, and I had read about inferior Ne being anxious about the future.
So, that threw me off a lot. I had a long list of what I didnât realize at the time were blatant stereotypes to compare my behavior to, and coz Iâm a head type / 6 it didnât match. No one explained to me that itâs how you think, not what you do, that determines your type. So I had to resign myself to likely not being an ENFP, and because Iâm somewhat introverted, that narrowed down my options (I assumed I had therefore to be IXFX). I kept reading⊠and found a bunch more stereotypes, especially of the âFe is unselfish, and Fi is selfish and rude and uncaringâ variety. I looked at Fi characters and saw a trait of stubbornness and selfishness I could not relate to and I had a strong reaction to of dislike. I am an agreeable person who spends a lot of time concerned with how she makes other people feel and goes along with them to keep them happy. I make decisions based on how I think theyâre going to feel â so since I wasnât some clueless and totally self-absorbed person, I obviously had to use Fe, right? (Iâm ashamed of how I used to see Fi. And those âFe is the nice oneâ stereotypes sadden me.)
Again, I never at that time ran across anything that explained how Fe is a social organizer and thinks in terms of âusâ and âweâ (the collective) which would have helped me realize â thatâs not what I do. I actually have an adverse reaction to that sort of thing. No one told me Fiâs feelings are abstract and hard to tell other people about; if they had, I would have connected to it, since I have had people ask me how Iâm feeling and I just stare at them in confusion, unable to articulate it because itâs all⊠impressions in my head. Abstract. And often out of sync with what people expect me to feel. I once had someone express to me, âOh, Iâm so sorry you didnât grow up close to your sisters, how sad.â And I was like, âWhy is it sad? I donât care that we werenât close. Should I care that we werenât close? Why would you assume Iâd care? And why would you express sadness over it? Because people are supposed to be close to their sisters? But why would you be close to them if you have nothing in common and no attachment to them?â
Because I quickly identified Ne in myself (THAT at least rang true â the âgetting ideas outside yourselfâ has always been blatantly obvious to me, about me) and was going off stereotypes, I concluded (rather unhappily, I might add) that I had to be ISFJ. And, as you probably know, I stuck with it for a long time.
Several people pointed out to me that I used way, way more Ne than an ISFJ. I just reasoned that my dad was an intuitive and it rubbed off on me (cute⊠but thatâs not how it works, not the focused, reading-between-the-lines, operating-on-hunches Ne that I use). A few other strangers around tumblr suggested to me I came across as a Te user, due to my straightforward / directive style, in which I discard any pretense of niceties and just answer questions by focusing on whatâs being asked and giving an answer (no Fe âsugar coatingâ â I often read back over stuff later and go, âOh yeah, I guess I could have been less blunt and less detached and more warm and personal⊠oopsâ). I assumed they had to be wrong, because I finish things and ENFPs donât. Stupid, I know.
But ISFJ never quite fit. I left bait in ISFJ forums to entice them into abstract conversations that went ignored. I looked at my ISFJ (confirmed) best friend and could see NOTHING similar in us, from how we communicated, thought, felt, and reacted to our overall tastes and interests. And frankly, when I said I shared her type, her eyebrows shot up into her hairline and my parents died laughing. None of them knew what type I was, but it âsure as hell isnât ISFJ.â
And then came two intense discussions over about a week that forced me to toss out ISFJ altogether and start over. In the first, an INTJ Iâd met through this tumblr and had been talking to / corresponding with for a few months pointed out that our Te thinking process was similar; our conclusions were similar; my reasoning was similar to hers, as was my Fi tendency to think people are all responsible for their own emotional states. So, that threw me for a loop. Then another NF friend had a five hour argument with me in which she insisted I had to be an intuitive and came up with evidence of how fast my brain switches gears, how often I am abstracting away from things (as an example, someone dies in a movie and I cry, not because the character is dead but because Iâm thinking about death / loss abstractly), and how fast I can think on my feet and discard my own ideas, and how often I contradict myself.
I finally just accepted it, tentatively and with anxiety, since I was still hounded by the 98 ways I do NOT fit the ENFP stereotype. Learning my Enneagram has helped that anxiety fade, but I still wonder if I got it right sometimes. Looking back, I can see where I screwed myself over from recognizing my cognition sooner because of my 6w7 tendency to trust / seek other peopleâs opinions and automatically suspect, âWell, they probably have more information / knowledge than I do⊠so even though it feels kind of wrong, I guess Iâll run with their idea?â Ne-dom tendency to latch onto other peopleâs notions even if theyâre thin. If this person is married to a (7 core) ENFP who never finishes things⊠and I finish what I start and and steadily work at it until itâs done⊠then I guess I canât be an ENFP because this person must know what theyâre talking about... (Typical immature tert-Te â lose patience, just wants an answer, grabs onto one example and assumes it creates a base pattern, rushes to a conclusion that doesnât fit, and then tries to figure out WHY this feels off.)
You ask if it feels right. Not always but Iâm learning thatâs owing to my tritype. My 6 finds it hard to let go of the four people out there who still think Iâm an SFJ. I have anxiety about it from time to time, wondering if Iâm misleading everyone, until I remember how bad I am at anything Si-related and how easy it is for me to abstract away from an object, and then I feel weirdly comforted / secure again.
Function tests. The Socionics one always gives me ENFp or INFj (INFP). I tend to baffle the similarminds test, since I get similar to these results (current):
Te (Extroverted Thinking) (70%) your valuation of / adherence to logic of external systems / hierarchies / methods
Ti (Introverted Thinking) (30%) your valuation of / adherence to your own internally devised logic/rational
Ne (Extroverted Intuition) (70%) your valuation of / tendency towards free association and creating with external stimuli
Ni (Introverted Intuition) (50%) your valuation of / tendency towards internal/original free association and creativity
Se (Extroverted Sensing) (15%) your valuation of / tendency to fully experience the world unfiltered, in the moment
Si (Introverted Sensing) (35%) your valuation of / focus on internal sensations and reliving past moments
Fe (Extroverted Feeling) (65%) your valuation of / adherence to external morals, ethics, traditions, customs, groups
Fi (Introverted Feeling) (65%) your valuation of / adherence to the sanctity of your own feelings / ideals / sentiment
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
 based on your results your type is likely - unclear
HAHAHAHA.
If youâre asking me this, to try and find your type, drop all the stereotypes about the types and focus on how your brain works. Remember to factor in your core Enneagram type and think about how that might impact your dominant function. I can see clearly how 6 shapes my Ne and has strengthened my Te. It holds back my Ne in some respects (itâs like⊠I operate on Ne but am anxious about my N conclusions without Te finding proof), and between 6 and 1, focuses it intently; but I am still prone to leaping on ideas half-baked and running with them, since I am not always great at objectively ruling them out (which also made it hard to find my type)⊠which is high Ne, not low Ne. And then thereâs the fact that I shock most people when I honestly say I canât remember 95% of my childhood, much less what I just read. I realized the other day my grandparents have all been dead for over 5 years. I honestly could not have told you how long theyâve been gone â in some ways, it feels like last summer and in others, like a lifetime ago. THAT is how bad I am with actual details, even on things that matter to me. My Si basically hangs out, stressing over forgetting things / practical details and gets nit-picky about DID NO ONE NOTICE THATâS FORMATTED WRONG?
- ENFP Mod.
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I think thereâs a lot of reasons why Merlin says heâs emotionless, chiefly because I think he believes at this point that he is. If you tell yourself something is true for long enough then, sadly, you tend to start believing it and this is something Merlin has been telling himself for a very very long time.
Fair warning this will be a long post.
Merlin has always known exactly what he is, and whilst his mother can be inferred to have loved him/done her best by him she was the only one. Merlin was bullied as a child because of this, and I really do doubt that it was only children being like this to him. He was essentially treated like a monster as a young boy;
In the dispute Dabutius said to Merlin âYou fool, do you presume to quarrel with me? Is there any equality in our birth? I am descended from royal race, both by my fatherâs and my motherâs side. As for you, nobody knows what you are, for you never had a father.
I donât think altercations like this were uncommon, especially if we take into account the fact Merlin is actually a Prince himself given his grandfather was a King. Itâs obviously inferred here that Dabutius is also royalty, but even then you donât usually casually run around insulting the grandchildren of Kings. The fact no one bats an eye to this or suggests Dabutius not being an asshole is.... also fairly telling. People past his mother didnât care about him, arguably they didnât want him near them and were by on large cruel to him. People are generally unpleasant to what they donât understand, and I really do think Merlin is lucky to be alive more than anything. Especially being that he is half Demon in an era which is really quite heavily Catholic.
To say he spent most of his formative years treated like a monster is fair, which to a child would unquestionably cause so much damage. It becomes easy to believe the majority telling you this/treating you that way, especially when your father was a âmonsterâ. Sadly he is a product of this treatment, finding it easier to take their words at face value than continually end up distressed trying to argue with them on the matter.
Itâs hard to say exactly how old Merlin was when he met Vortigern, the illustrations being in that old style that makes everyone (even cats?) look like 50 year old men. From his stature though it can be inferred he was probably about 15.
Vortigern obviously wanted to kill Merlin, told him as much when they met, stating he wanted to use his blood because his tower wouldnât remain standing. By this point I think Merlin already believed his own inhumanity and, as a result, was grappling already with a repression of emotions. We see him bursting into tears when he gives Vortigern the prophecy of the two dragons (and you can argue that could just be for dramatic writing effect, something I agree with. However in the application of this to a character which is being written âdramatic effectâ isnât a solid explanation to such an emotional reaction from a child), which i think is largely due to the fact heâs really struggling to cope with it all.
Merlin obviously ends up in the service of Vortigern, a man who was notorious for his cruelty as an individual. When Vortigern dies he ends up in the service of Aurelius, and from him Uther. All of these men were often described in bestial and animalistic ways, being people who inspired fear before respect. Merlin survived because he was useful to them, because his âinhumanityâ made him something of an asset. Exposing weakness to men like that would have been foolish, showing emotions giving them a leverage he was scared to offer. If Merlin hadnât managed to shut himself down on an emotional level before these 3 he certainly managed to do it during his time under them.
Then comes Arturia, someone Merlin ends up loving. His dialogue in FGO when paired with her is indicative, expressing what I really think is a genuine happiness for being near her again; he has no reason to lie here, there is nothing to be gained by him acting happy if he is not. Merlin loved her, but I think he was and is far too damaged to do better than he did. Yes he has his clairvoyance and knew how things would end, but clairvoyance of the future is shown to show the individual many possible futures and does not always give a complete picture. Merlin thought he knew what he was doing and objectively he did, but she made him feel for her and suddenly heâs faced with the fact heâs caused all kind of damage to this girl and now thereâs nothing he can do. His realisation is too late, and itâs crushing.
When she ends up stuck in that awful limbo of hers this is made worse, his guilt consuming as he makes himself watch because it is the least he can do. The least he owes this girl. When she is summoned to fight he hides Excalibur, doing what little he can but knowing itâs not enough. He watches her torture for a millennium and a half, watching someone he loves tortured essentially because of him. This, for someone who has 0 emotional intelligence for all he has the capacity for emotion still, is so far beyond what he is able to deal with or reconcile with. Garden Of Avalon goes on to describe how awful he finds the entire thing, but that he cannot look away due to his own guilt.
It is not until the end of the fifth grail war that we see a shift in Merlin, the conclusion spurring him to kick Cath Palug out of Avalon to go and find âbeautyâ such as that he himself had seen. Before this point I think Merlin had truly lost sight of how beautiful the world was, falling into a state probably best described as depressive. With the end of that war he found beauty, found the worth in things again, and wished for Cath Palug to go and find these things too.
In the years between the end of of that grail war and the events of FGO Merlin took to a more positive outlook again, one catalysed by Ritsuka. But... this got very long so thatâs a headcanon for another day.
#·ÍËÌ©Ì„Ì©Ì„ â§ïœ„ïŸA DEMON OF THE SOFTEST KIND â headcanons#i finally got around doing it#but only because SOMEONE broke my heart last night#she knows who she is
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Gymnophoria - From Another Perspective
prompt originally from @that-cat-over-there from this post. (thank you again, friend!)
Part 1 can be found here.Â
I was inspired to write the scenes from the other perspective.Â
Link to work on AO3:Â https://archiveofourown.org/works/16329293
Kirkwall, 9:31 Dragon
Marian Hawke downed her first shot of the night, feeling the cheap burn at the back of her throat.
The Hanged Man was filled with its usual crowd of miscreants and ruffians, the best of which were sitting with her at their usual spot. Varric sat at the head of the table with his legs crossed and set on the table, nursing his beer. Fenris was next to him and was reluctantly drinking along. Aveline had just arrived and took a seat next to Fenris, still in her city guard armor. Isabela was next to Hawke, already several shots in and in peak Isabela form.
Varric was shuffling the cards. They were going to play Wicked Grace once Carver arrived with Merrill (Maker, how did she manage to get so lost?) and Anders found his way from the clinic.
It promised to be a good night.
âDeal the cards, Varric!â Isabela exclaimed.
âBe patient, Rivaini, we will start when the whole crew is assembled.â Varric said, continuing to shuffle.
âI am bored! Someone distract me.â
âWhat do you want to do, Isabela?â
âDo you have to ask, Sweet thing? We could go back to my room and entertain ourselves.â Isabela said, trailing her finger along Hawkeâs arm. Hawke laughed, but did consider it.
âWhore, do you ever stop?â Aveline asked.
âNo.â Was all Fenris said.
âSpoilsport, Captain Manhands.â Isabela grumbled into her cup.
âHow about a bet? There is a dart board over there.â Varric suggested.
âBut no darts, Varric. And last time Corth yelled at us when you fired Bianca at the board from across the bar.â Hawke said. âWe donât want to get thrown out THIS early.â
The group went silent for a minute considering their options. âWell, how about this then. I bet you 50 silver that you canât pick up someone from this bar.â Isabela suggested.
âI can do that easily, Bela.â Hawke said with confidence. âYouâre on!â
âHawke, are you really going to do this?â Aveline asked.
âYes, Hawke, are you?â Fenris asked, with thinly veiled curiosity.
âOf course!â Hawke downed another shot. âVarric! You like me, right?â
âWhile I am flattered-â
âNo, it canât be someone you know, Hawke.â Isabela protested.
âYou didnât specify that!â
âWell I am now!â
âFine!â
âWill you two please stop shouting?â Aveline asked, rubbing her temple. âMaker, why I associate with youâŠâ
âYou love it, Aveline.â Hawke said, then, turning back to Isabela. âFine, someone I donât know.â
Hawke surveyed the bar, trying to find a likely candidate. Most were drunks, or regulars, or regular drunks.
There has to be someone suitable hereâŠ
But then, Hawke spotted a perfect mark at the bar. He had golden hair, muscles, from the looks of it, and he definitely looked lonely.
âHim, I will pick that guy up, using my incredible skill and then you will owe me 50 silver.â
âHey, I want in on this bet.â Varric said. â50 silver says Rivaini manages to steal him out from under you.â
âVarric! Have you no faith in me?â Hawke said, dramatically.
âIâve seen you try to flirt, Hawke. It was sad.â
âThat was for a job, this is entirely different.â
âWhatever you say, will you take that bet?â
âYes! Just to spite you!â With that, Hawke waved Nora down and requested a drink be send over to the gentleman.
She waited for the drink to be delivered. When it was, she forced everyone to look away, to not make it obvious.
She looked across the bar at him and waved. He looked concerned or confused. Hawke elbowed Isabela. âSee, already he is looking my way.â
âYou do know how to pick them, Hawke. He looks very fit, indeed.â They took a moment to eye him, imagining how his obvious muscles looked underneath his clothing. The man looked away and downed his drink.
âAh, getting his courage up?â Isabela purred.
âWe shall see. Now is my chance.â
âHonestly, HawkeâŠâ Aveline said, shaking her head.
Hawke rose from the bench and started towards the bar, with her best sashay. The man watched her. Suddenly, he rose from the stool, threw down some coins, and practically ran from the bar.
Hawke heard Varric laughing behind her.
âSweet thing! You scared him off!â Isabela exclaimed and Hawke made her way back to the table. âI think that means I win.â
âNo one is to mention any part of this to Carver.â Hawke said sulkily, handing over the coin to Isabela.
âNot a word, Hawke, not a word.â Varric said, still chortling.
Maker, I will never live this down.
Haven, 9:41 Dragon
Dorian strolled around the small village of Haven. It was quaint, in a Southern fashion. The villagers side-eyed him as he walked, whispering and gawking. You would think he was the Elder One the way they acted.
He heard the sound of clanging steel and wandered on down the steps through the gate. He found before him a glorious sight. The Commander was fighting another rather strapping fellow, both of them down to their shirts, which, sweat soaked as they were, left little to the imagination. Well, many peopleâs imaginations, Dorian found he could come up with a few things.
Their bout came to an end and the commander moved to a side bench, lifting a ladle of water. Some of the water trickled down his body.
Bless the Maker.
The commander turned and met his eyes. Dorian raised his brow and cocked his head to the side, giving the man a long look. The man in question looked down and, if his eyes were not deceiving him, the Commander was blushing. Â
âYou are looking quite intent about something, Dorian.â Lavellan said, stepping beside him. The Dalish mage had taken to him, after their jaunt to the future. She was one of the only ones to even treat him like a person in Haven.
âJust enjoying the wonderful view, darling.â Lavellan turned and seeing where his gaze fell, touched his arm lightly and started laughing.
âOh, I see. Just enjoying the natural wonders of the South, huh?â She said, the laugh still in her voice. She looked towards the Commander and waved, a wide grin of mirth on her face. He gave a half-hearted wave back before turning and walking away.
âAh, you scared him away!â Dorian complained.
Lavellan playfully slapped his arm. âI did not! It was probably your leering at him!â
âI was not leering! I was admiring!â
âOf course, dear Altus. Of course.â
Skyhold, 9:41 Dragon
Lavellan left the rotunda. She had just left a shocked and delighted Dorian on the second floor. He was the first one she told about her night. About her amazing night.
She was a cheerful person by nature, but even for her, she found herself grinning more than usual. As she greeted various people in the hall on her way to the war table, she found an extra bounce to her step and had to keep from outright whistling.
Cullen was cautious about a relationship. He was so adorably awkward and sweet at times. She understood that he was struggling with his lyrium withdrawals and that made him want to take things slow.
Lavellan had been fine with taking things slow. With the Inquisition, it was almost impossible to spend any time together, but they had made it work: a chess game here, a walk in the moonlit there. Then, last night, Cullen made a move, a much bolder move than she had been expecting.
Lavellan reached the door to the War Room and entered, hearing the now familiar creak of the hinges. She quickly looked to Cullen and she felt herself smiling again.
âGood afternoon, everyone! Whatâs on the agenda today?â She asked, looking to the other advisors.
âAh, Inquisitor, yes, we have several Orlesian nobles visiting that wish an audience with youâŠâ
Josephine and Leliana started detailing the meetings she would have throughout the days and the information she would need to talk to the nobles. Really, they were invaluable in that department.
âLady Bellington can be a bitâŠverbose at times.â Josephine said.
Lavellan laughed at that, âVerbose? Why, Josephine, you never cease to amaze me with how you manage to make even the most awful nobles sound nice. I remember Lady Bellington from Val Royeaux and verbose is putting it mildly.â
Josephine and Leliana then started debating about whether Lavellan should speak to her alone or if they should have a messenger interrupt them.
Lavellan looked to Cullen and found his eyes intently on her. She ducked her head and felt a blush coming to her cheeks. He most certainly was not focusing on the meeting.
She met his gaze again and raised her eyebrow just so, before letting her eyes trail across his armored form, communicating that she was quite pleased with what she saw and what she knew was underneath all the armor.
âCommander?â Josephine asked. Lavellan started suddenly, straightening and refocusing.
âYes, Josephine?â Cullen asked in reply.
âDid you have any suggestions to add?â
âNo, I think you and Leliana have it well in hand.â He had recovered quickly, well done. Lavellan felt a smirk on her face.
âExcellent, Commander, now if we move on to this other matterâŠâ
Lavellan focused on the meeting and took some notes on her upcoming meetings, but she did notice that Cullen was pointedly not looking her way.
Poor man, I am so very distracting.
The meeting came to a close and Leliana and Josephine left, talking about some recent gossip. Lavellan leaned against the doorframe and waited for Cullen to leave. He finished gathering his notes and looked up at her. He instantly smiled at her and Lavellan couldnât help returning it.
How can one man do this to me?
As they left the room, Lavellan took his hand in hers and gently tugged him down to her. She had a wicked glint in her eye and she whispered into his ear, âTonight, you can undress me for real, not just with your eyes, Cullen.â
She saw him freeze, her words taking hold.
Oh, yes. I have plans for you tonight. She thought, pulling the still dazed Commander through the hall.
#dragon age 2#dragon age inquisition#dragon age fanfiction#My writing#cullen x lavellan#cullen x inquisitor#marian hawke#isabela#Varric Tethras#aveline vallen#cullen rutherford#dorian pavus#josephine montilyet#Inquisitor Lavellan#the inquisitor#dragon age
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Air ride suspension & Insurance?
Hello, I am male, nearly 18. I want to buy a 2004 / 5 Mini cooper for my first car. Insurance at about 1000 - 1500 quoted. When I get it I want to do some visual mods such as new rims, possibly a colour change, window tints. I know I have to notify my insurance company, whomever it may be and it probably wont effect what I'm paying. But I also want to lower the car, so I researched this and came across these air - ride kits that are air suspension that can be lowered and raised all from in your car with buttoms. These arnt hydralacs, there quite slow to adjust. This would be great for me as I live in a town but I have to drive on a lot of moorland roads, so I could raise it on the moors, lower it in the cities and on motorways etc... Would this effect my insurance at all? Its quite an expensive mod but would it change ( increase ) my insurance costs? Cheers, Alex. I suggest that you try this web site where one can get quotes from different companies: http://insure4car.xyz Which insurance carrier could be the cheapest to get an 18-year old? Iv passed my examination, and bought a citreon saxo 1.1, iv been on many evaluation websites along with the finest quote i get is 3500 third party just which is a lot of. Can anybody help me find a better offer Cheers" Are you currently in support of getting rid of medical insurance if you have preexisting situations? Are you currently in favor of eliminating health insurance for those who have pre-existing conditions? "Just how much per month may be the regular homeowners insurance payment over a 100,000 residence? Cheers a Marine but automobile insurance as well as 20 firmis need to charge me 500$ a month??? HELP? I simply got my certificate two months back I'm while in the marines and registered after I was 17 and in florida it cost 350$ to truly get your certificate before you are 18 and that I couldn't afford it. I'm a guy that is very busy and it took time before i could obtain it. Every two weeks i make 600 and i am planning to obtain a vehicle i am stationed at camp lejeune NC. For that vehicle loan i will be spending about 350 to 400 monthly. Its not that I'm paying interest to the mortgage for 11 for devoid of any credit that bad. However the insurance companies need to impose me everywhere from 450 to 700 per month i have simply checked out a couple of companies but it takes forever to fill in the knowledge and some of them do not read my target because i am on a military platform so i need to call them-and you all no how that goes. Thus my problem is what is a companie that will not be superior. 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Actually im browsing a cheap and affordable for my gf. She's working careers with all the annual income of $ 16,000, but she doesn't get any company gains... She has been sick alot lately and im genuinely worried for her, specially when she is only 20-year old dwelling her step parents. Her stepparents got 2 children of their own so her requirements are completely ignored by them, so it is up to me to accomplish my far better assist her. She's disqualify with medical since her step parents make alots of money. Can someone please supply me about getting affordable health insurence for your low income, some information? Perhaps some link there? Thankyou" Looking for a health insurance? I'm 23 and my spouse is 25, we are in excellent wellness, and therefore are trying to find health insurance. I would like an affordable strategy, but in addition the one which is generally accepted. I understand insurance isn't just affordable, but I really hope you-all can go with what I'm saying. 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Suzuki Forenza 2007 Mazda3 2005 I had hail damage to my car and my insurance carrier did an estimation which can be 100% less than 3 reput I had my car ruined by hail and I have comprehensivr coverage. My insurance carrier had an adjuster do the estimate and his appraisal is 100% less than 3 additional calculated I'd completed (a few of which weer by merchants they work with...CRP). They are telling me it can be taken by me in and they will pay the merchants an extra look for the excess charges. I really don't need to consider it in as a result of my deductible and they are informing me just about the only method i can actually recoup the cash owed to me is to have it set...I buy my plan so when I am aware it, I'm eligible for the settlement of the damage and it is my selection to possess it fixed or not...am I appropriate or inappropriate in my own knowledge????" 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Could someone tell me what insurance's average-cost could charge please? Cheers "Because she got 9 penalty items our children car insurance has more than doubled. she wishes?" Me get her wear that insurance then to acquire insurance on her vehicle. While she is under my insurance, if she gets points could that influence the insurance on my own cars' price or could provided that she caused a collision produce my insurance increase. I really could get a years insurance on her car for less than the buying price of 1 regular payment she'd have to pay for her own insurance. what you think. She will be disqualified from driving if she gets 3 more points. what i have composed mightn't seem sensible. I wish to learn easily do that on her behalf while being on my insurance could that put up my insurance prices for what or several my vehicles and he or she gets disqualified if a collision is caused by her or wouldn't it just result my insurance. while shes on my insurance. * 41 minutes ago - 3 days left to reply. Additional Facts 40 minutes before we live in the UK. Sorry this really is extended i found it difficult to publish what I used to be really looking to ask. 33 minutes ago i know if she causes an accident while she's on my insurance ot might influence my insurance fees but when she was to acquire disqualified while she's on my insurance could that effect me inurances oin anyhow. She don't be on my insurance anymore if she gets disqualified. 14 minutes previously only 3 of her penalty factors are for rushing. she explained the other 6 things are because there is a mixture up along with her insurance last period and he or she was uninured for 4 nights and was grabbed by the police. She got 6 details for that in court a few months ago. She hadnt visited work to signal for this so she got captured for that although she said she that she had called them and approved the coverage they assumed it would continue quickly and sent her to restore it. She was merely uninsured for 4 nights as a result of her mistake that time. Sorry if you answerd this-but i put it on US bing responses by way of a mistake plus it didnt appear in UK google answers and so I desired solutions from people that knows about motor insurance in the united kingdom" Do you have medical health insurance? Just how much is it per month in that case? how old are you? What type of deducatbale have you got? Feel free should you choose not have insurance, to reply additionally? Furthermore, do you assist obamacare?" What's insurance expense? A review of the ledger of Khan Company at December 31, 2006, provides the following data regarding the planning of yearly adjusting entries. 1. Prepaid Insurance 800, $9. The organization has individual plans on its structures and its particular automobiles. Coverage B4564 to the building was obtained on July 1, 2005, for $ 6. The plan has an expression of 36 months. Coverage A2958 about the cars was purchased for $ 4. This plan features a phrase of a couple of years." What motor insurance coverage is actually essential? And just how much of each do you really require? Where may I acquire medical health insurance? Iam possess a low-income and Iam buying correct insurance policy. Thus my boss won't get an insurance for me personally, I are a component time career. Please if everyone knows any...show more" Air ride suspension & Insurance? Hello, I am male, nearly 18. I want to buy a 2004 / 5 Mini cooper for my first car. Insurance at about 1000 - 1500 quoted. When I get it I want to do some visual mods such as new rims, possibly a colour change, window tints. I know I have to notify my insurance company, whomever it may be and it probably wont effect what I'm paying. But I also want to lower the car, so I researched this and came across these air - ride kits that are air suspension that can be lowered and raised all from in your car with buttoms. These arnt hydralacs, there quite slow to adjust. This would be great for me as I live in a town but I have to drive on a lot of moorland roads, so I could raise it on the moors, lower it in the cities and on motorways etc... Would this effect my insurance at all? Its quite an expensive mod but would it change ( increase ) my insurance costs? Cheers, Alex. I suggest that you try this web site where one can get quotes from different companies: http://insure4car.xyz How can I get my insurance? I'm 17 years of age. Insurance ca n't be afforded by my dad since he's 4 kids plus they wont offer him free insurance. I reside in Georgia. I would like insurance cause I end-up paying out WITHOUT ANY HELP like 90$ to visit the doctor. I don't think it really is alright not to have insurance. So what do I actually do? Where do I do this? Could they allow a 17-year old to get insurance by their home (being a modest)" Do you think aero updates may cause my insurance to move up? I wished to then add aero upgrades for my car and stay near Va international raceway. I also want to decrease it and get performance wheels. You think my insurance will be increased by this considerably? I'm simply curious what others believe although I cannot call until tomorrow. 16 yr-old Insurance question.? On what auto insurance might charge every six months/ from the year for a 16-year old child who has already been in an accident, not with another car, what could the insurance cost on the 1994 camaro v6 any guesses." What's the top website review and to reseach autoinsurance rates? What's a good website when studying autoinsurance, touse. One where each other and I can get numerous rates from numerous insurers and compare them?" Who offers reliable and inexpensive car insurance? Money is truly tight at this time, and my car insurance is around $120 a month with Liberty Good. I am considering different agencies that provide great support and are less expensive. Is Geico great? Any kind of other firms I should have a look at? Our history isn't too good. One racing ticket." What's the least expensive motor insurance to have to get a 22-year old for full coverage? What's the cheapest car insurance to get to get a 22 year old for full-coverage? Question about Auto Insurance Prices? 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Does anyone know where-to get cheap UK motor insurance for a 17-year old male, preferable uder 1000.?" Motor insurance lowering (OFFICIALLY!!!!)? Right, i inform the entire history. Im 17 in a few months, thus my parents have granted me 000 for insurance and a vehicle, 5, which i imagined could be lots for something decent. however, as i need to insure the automobile myself (no fronting), as well as an organization one heap of c**p expenses over 3,000 to ensure. I understand I really could get move plus, but any kind of other ways to reduce the payments that are ridiculous legally? And what are the providers who give a superior value for individuals that are new? Cheers for your aid:)" "To get a 17-year old, simply how much about is auto insurance (relatively) and which sites are cheaper? We were imagining Place or State Park "Just how do I get the best offer on a rental car, and what about insurance?" I do want to get the best price I could, although I'm likely to Orlando for 3nights, and want to rent a car while I am there. What is the easiest way to accomplish this...recommendations/suggestions? I am also somewhat confused about the entire insurance problem, since this can be my firsttime hiring a vehicle. I really do not want to pay double just to get insurance basically don't actually need it. Please clarify. Cheers!" Are bank holidays operated on by insurance companies? I'dn't mind getting some insurance for my moped tomorrow, but I observed its bank holiday monday...Can this stop me getting through to them?" Paying for Insurance problem? Alright, how is it possible for me personally to fund insurance for only a few nights rather than a month at the same time? If so, how?" Whats the top motor insurance site to review? Trying to find cheap auto insurance, plz:)" Rental-car insurance? I simply offered my car (02/04) and am looking to rentacar until I choose the new-car (02/05-02/15). What happens towards the auto-insurance that I'd with all the car that I recently bought (I settled the coverage until 02/16). Was it immediately fired once my automobile was bought by me? Because my plan handles the insurance for your rentalcar also, if it will proceed until 02/16, I dont need to pay for added rental insurance at a rental store (I really believe I paid around $13 per-day before). Likewise, does debit cards (from nearby banks) also usually address the insurance for your rental car too (I am aware most of credit cards accomplish that)." "I am discriminated against by motor insurance organization because I had been not blessed in the united kingdom?" I had a quote for auto insurance via a well-known national company. They were informed I talked to your agent and had no beliefs, claims etc. I rang and had a UK permit for 5 years and he or she confirmed the offer. 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State: Minnesota Year of cycle: 1995-2005 I'm considering 650cc - 750cc I've encounter on cycles (dirt bikes) I do realize their is some difference I've a grade average of Bis or more." Hard expense of insurance class 17 cars? Hi all, I am looking at a Lotus Elise for my next vehicle. Its insurance group 17 and I'm 25 with almost two years no statements. Anyone know around exactly what the insurance could be? Thanks xx" Sports car with minimal insurance price? I'm 16 and i'm planning to get yourself a vehicle when iam 18. I'm keeping more income up so i will get a great car. I get vehicles very seriously. I thought of getting even a car or a 1990-1996 miata like that. I need a need a superb hunting automobile that's rwd transmission." Car crash today what? insurance problem? I used to be in my own first major car crash, my car was totaled. 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Health Insurance Distress? Iam a college student at the time of right-now and I'm covered under my mother's program. She's an OR nurse pretty much anywhere I get in this town I actually donot need to pay considerably to have a scheduled appointment because all of them are with people who perform for a medical facility she works for. Within the slide I will attend a two states aside where my choice to get college medical insurance or enroll to acquire it can be waived by me. Considering my health insurance for this specific spot do I enroll for your college insurance only truly works? or renounce? Since I am aware I will be receiving checkups and such on campus anyway." Air ride suspension & Insurance? Hello, I am male, nearly 18. I want to buy a 2004 / 5 Mini cooper for my first car. Insurance at about 1000 - 1500 quoted. When I get it I want to do some visual mods such as new rims, possibly a colour change, window tints. I know I have to notify my insurance company, whomever it may be and it probably wont effect what I'm paying. But I also want to lower the car, so I researched this and came across these air - ride kits that are air suspension that can be lowered and raised all from in your car with buttoms. These arnt hydralacs, there quite slow to adjust. This would be great for me as I live in a town but I have to drive on a lot of moorland roads, so I could raise it on the moors, lower it in the cities and on motorways etc... Would this effect my insurance at all? Its quite an expensive mod but would it change ( increase ) my insurance costs? Cheers, Alex. I suggest that you try this web site where one can get quotes from different companies: http://insure4car.xyz
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Universe Falls, Chapter 50, Part 2
HAHAHAHAHAHAH HERE WE GO KIDS ITS TIME FOR THE BIG ONE. ANd I really mean that seeing as how this chapter is like 33,000 words long. Seriously what the hell am I even doing with my life anymore??? Still this one turned out HELLA good in my opinion, so I really hope you enjoy it! And without any reason to keep stalling, here it is! :DÂ
Previous:Â http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/171705709469/universe-falls-chapter-50-part-1
Chapter 50, Part 2: A Tale of Two Stans
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The summer sun beamed down upon the murky ocean water, making it shimmer almost as it lapped onto the somewhat dirty shore. For any other beach, a pristine day like this would have seen countless beachgoers and tourists, but Glass Shard Beach didnât often attract too many of those. What it did attract, however, was a pair of brothers, twins, around the age of 11 or 12, who lived in the sleepy nearby town. Whenever they could spare a few hours, the boys gladly rushed down to their favorite haunt, knowing that more often than not, theyâd have the entire beach to themselves to simply run around and explore. A pastime that they were both gladly taking part in.
âHey! Wait up!â the older of the twins called after his brother, trailing behind him a bit as they ran across the sandy shore.
âHeh, yeah, you should keep up,â the other twin retorted with a sly smirk, still taking a large lead.
âI-I can keep up!â the slower of the brothers called a bit breathlessly, though he stopped alongside his twin as they reached something neither of them had seen before: a small, closed-off cave. âWhoa!â
âNeato!â the younger twin exclaimed, aptly excited by such a find.
âA mysterious, boarded cave!â the older twin grinned, just as intrigued as his brother. âIt might be filled with lost prehistoric life forms! Or Mesoamerican gold!â
âOr a dead body!â
âWhy would you want to find a dead body?â
The younger twin shrugged, matching his twinâs rather bemused smile. âYou gotta admit itâd be kinda cool.â
ââŠYeah, I guess it would be.â
âSo, ladies first,â the younger twinâs grin widened as he pushed his brother forward a bit. The older of the two laughed at this, giving his brother a playful punch on the arm, one that was quickly returned as the pair moved up to the cave itself. As it turned out, the entrance was boarded up quite securely to keep any trespassers out, hence why the older twinâs attempt at pulling them away only resulted in him falling backwards into the sand, much to his brotherâs amusement.
âHa! Good thing youâve got your smarts, poindexter. Iâve got the other thing. Whatâs it called? Oh right! Punching!â And he proceeded to do just that, launching his fist through the boards and breaking a sizable opening through the wood, despite the pieces of the board stuck in his hand as a result. âCool, splinters!â
âWhoaâŠâ the older twin remarked, shining his flashlight into the darkened cavern. âItâs so creepy in here!â
âHey, donât worry, bro,â the younger twin slung an arm around his brotherâs shoulder as they stepped into the cave. âWherever we go, we go together. By the way, donât forget to leave our names so they know who owns the place.â
They both did just that, inscribing their names on the stone wall near the entrance of the cave before they ran off to continue exploring, proudly cheering their last name in unison as they left a subtle, written declaration of their close-knit bond behind:
Stanley and Stanford Pines
Present Day
In the immediate aftermath of the complete and utter upheaval of reality as a result of the portal, the Mystery Shack was still settling back into place, though it was by far much worse for wear. The basement had by far suffered from the worst of it, the machine in complete shambles as everyone gradually picked themselves up and looked to who had just joined them from the other side of the portal, none other than the nearly-mythical author of the journals himself. Still, no one was quite sure how to react to his unexcepted arrival, save for Stan as he warmly stepped forward to greet his long-lost twin.
âFinally!â he exclaimed with a smile so huge and so happy that it nearly brought him to joyful tears. And really, he wouldnât have been too surprised if they actually fell as he opened his arms up wide to embrace his brother, not noticing the infuriated glare he was receiving from his own twin as he rushed towards him. âAfter all these long years of waiting, youâre actually here! Brother!â
Before Stan could even come close to hugging the author, however, he suddenly lashed out, swinging a hard and heavy fist that connected with the conmanâs cheek and knocked him back brutally, much to the admitted surprise of everyone watching. âOw!â Stan hissed in pain before looking back to his brother with confused frustration. âWhat the heck was that for?!â
âThis was an insanely risky move, restarting the portal!â the author exclaimed in gruff fury. âWhat in the world were you thinking?! Didnât you read my warnings?!â
âWarnings, schmarnings,â Stan scoffed, still rubbing his sore cheek. âHowâs about maybe a thank you for saving you from what appears to be, I dunno, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?â
âThank you?â the author asked incredulously. âYou really think Iâm gonna thank you after what you did thirty years ago?!â
âWhat I did?!â Stan retorted just as harshly, his hands clenching into threatening fists as he prepared to act on his own growing anger. âWhy, you ungrateful-!â The conman didnât finish as he launched himself at his brother, fists at the ready to strike though the author quickly and easily evaded his attack. He swiftly restrained the incensed conman, pinning his arms behind his back before slamming him to the ground, but even still, Stan showed no signs of giving up against his clearly much stronger brother. âD-donât expect me to go easy on you just because youâre family!â he shouted, shoving the author off of him before scrambling to stand once more. The author also rose, ready to fight himself, though before the brothers could throw any more punches at each other, their blows were suddenly blocked off by a sturdy gauntlet on each side.
âEnough!â Garnet exclaimed as both punches simultaneously hit her protected palms. Stan simply backed off at this, sending a harsh glare past the Gem leader and to his brother instead. The author, on the other hand, seemed to abandon his fury as he looked to Garnet herself, his eyes wide with both surprise and recognition as he stared at her in clear amazement.
âG-Garnet?â he asked, catching a look of apt bewilderment from the Gem leader before he happened to notice her teammates standing nearby. âPearl! Amethyst! I-I canât believe it! You three look exactly the same as you did 30 years ago!â he exclaimed with a baffled, but still elated smile. âThen again, I suppose thatâs not that surprising seeing as how Gems donât age, but to see such partial immortality in action is downright incredible!â
Despite the authorâs apparent excitement, none of the Gems shared in on it as they looked to each other in complete, dumbfounded confusion. Sure enough, Stan had confirmed that this man was indeed the author, but that didnât mean they had much of a recollection about him given their apparent missing memories on anything remotely pertaining to him. All the same, out of anyone who could have been the elusive author, they had to admit that none of them, not even Garnet, had been expecting him to be Stanâs unknown brother, which of course, was yet another secret the conman had been hiding from them for all these years.
âUh⊠do we⊠know you?â Pearl asked somewhat uncomfortably. After all, this was the man who had written copious notes about all three of them in his journals, despite them apparently not knowing him personally. Though based on how he addressed them, clearly he felt as though he was somehow quite familiar with all of them.
The author took pause at this, his smile fading into surprise as he looked between the trio of confused Gems. âWhaâo-of course you do! Itâs me: Ford! We used to work together, remember?â
Once again, the Gems didnât really know what to say to this claim as they looked to the author, or rather, to Ford in sincere uncertainty. âUh⊠well we donât know about all that,â Amethyst spoke up, still trying to avert eye contact with her teammates in light of everything that had just happened. âBut I do know that if you really are author dude, then weâve got like a ton of questions for you.â
âNamely, how in the world did you amass so much information about us in those journals of yours without our consent?â Pearl asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked to the author rather distrustfully.
âWithout your conâwhat?â Ford asked, now just as confused as the Gems seemed to be. âI always had permission to document the Crystal Gems from all three of you, and from Rose! How do you not remember everything we-â
âForget it, sixer,â Stan cut in, arms crossed as he rolled his eyes at his brotherâs apparent distress over this news. âThose three donât remember a thing about you. In fact they havenât for about the past⊠oh, I dunno, 22 or so years now?â
âB-but why not?â the author pressed, sending his brother a brief glare before looking back to the Gems with much more concern.
âHeck if I know,â the conman shrugged. âThe only thing Rose told me was that somebody went and jacked all their memories about you and about all of this,â he nodded back towards the ruined portal. âShe never bothered to bring up how or why in any of it. Just like her to be as shady and vague as possible, if ya ask me.â
âW-wait,â Pearl interjected, aghast at such news. âRose really did know what happened to our memories?! T-then why did she never tell us about any of this?!â
âWell, why donât you just ask her for yourself?â Ford suggested. âIn fact, if thereâs anyone who can clear all of this up, then Iâm sure its Rose. Where is she? Up at the temple?
The Gems once again fell silent at this, their expressions switching from confusion to despair upon the authorâs assumption that the pink Gem was still around. At this juncture, the kids, who had only just been watching everything unfurl in silent shock, finally broke out of it enough to exchange a tentative glance, none of them really even knowing how to react to everything that was going on in front of them. But upon hearing Ford question about his motherâs whereabouts, Steven found that he could no longer really stand back in the shadows and keep the truth silent, especially given how distraught both the author and the Gems seemed to be.
âUm, actuallyâŠâ Steven began somewhat apprehensively as he stepped forward. âSheâs⊠not around anymoreâŠâ
Ford froze at this, looking over to the young Gem with wide eyes of shock upon hearing such a thing. ââŠWhat?â he asked, his voice strangely soft and shaken.
âHeâs right,â Garnet spoke up, letting out a sad sigh as she adjusted her shades. âSeveral years ago, Rose Quartz sacrificed her physical form to bring her son, Steven, into the world.â
âHer⊠son?â the author asked, even more bewildered by this news as he looked back to the young Gem incredulously. âBut⊠Gems canât⊠how did she⊠I⊠I donât believe itâŠâ
âUm⊠well, i-its true,â Steven said with awkward, yet polite smile as he pulled his shirt up a bit to show the Gem on his navel, something that seemed to perplex Ford even more. As a result, the young Gem couldnât help but feel somewhat guilty, though for what reason he wasnât entirely sure. Still, he did his best to make an effort to try to set the clearly upset author to ease. âBy the way, i-itâs⊠really nice to meet you, Mr. Author, sir.â
Ford hardly seemed to pay this warm greeting much mind as he placed a hand against his temple, still clearly reeling from this revelation. âI⊠I never thought that sheâd⊠She⊠she canât be goneâŠâ he muttered shaking his head morosely. âI didnât even get to tell her that Iâm sorry for-â The author abruptly cut himself off at this, glancing up to notice the several pairs of eyes watching him, particularly the Gems themselves, none of whom still knew what to really make of him. Which was why he was quick to regain his composure, taking in a tight breath and discreetly wiping his nearly damp eyes dry before he quickly changed took the subject off of the now-deceased pink Gem. âHm, w-well, itâs⊠unfortunate that Rose is⊠no longer with us,â he began with a steadying sigh of apparent acceptance as he spared another glance at the young Gem, this time offering him a slight smile of greeting. âBut all the same, itâs a pleasure to meet you as wellâer⊠um⊠what did you say your name was again?â
âSteven,â the young Gem reiterated with an amicable, patient grin.
âRight, Steven,â Ford nodded, his smile growing a bit, until he happened to notice the other pair of kids in the room, both of them looking to him in lingering amazement. As he did, his dejected manner quickly turned back into an aggravated one as he glanced back over at his brother. âStan, you didnât tell me there were so many children down here. And⊠some sort of large, hairless gopher?â he frowned, glancing over at Soos.
âHeh, I get that a lot,â the handyman chuckled, hardly offended.
âTheyâre your family, poindexter,â Stan remarked, nodding towards his, as well as Fordâs, nibblings. âShermieâs grandkids. The colorful oneâs Mabel and the sweaty oneâs Dipper. You can figure out the rest.â
This news finally seemed to be enough to lift the authorâs spirits completely as he looked towards the twins with a soft, but warm smile. âI-I have a niece and nephew?â he inquired, his manner quite cordial as he stepped forward to meet them properly. Excited by the opportunity to make his acquaintance, Mabel rushed forward first, eagerly shaking Fordâs extended hand. âGreetings⊠Mabel, was it?â he began, working off what Stan had told him as his niece brightly nodded. âDo kids still say greetings? I havenât been in this dimension in a really long timeâŠâ
âWhoa, a six fingered handshake?â Mabel said, clearly impressed as she counted off his fingers to find that, sure enough, there were indeed six on each hand. âItâs a full finger friendlier than normal!â
âHeh, I like this kid!â Ford chuckled, amused. âSheâs weird.â
âI⊠I canât believe itâŠâ Dipper finally spoke up in a stark whisper at first. For the longest time, he had been so lost in shock, from the portal opening, to Ford stepping out of it, to the confusion between him and the Gems, that he had still been trying to piece it all together and make sense of it. But in the midst of doing so, he had nearly forgotten one very vital thing: that one of the biggest mysteries of the summer by far had just been solved in the most unexpected of ways. âY-youâre the author of the journals!â
âOh, youâve read my journals?â Ford asked, still smiling as he turned to his nephew and pulled the one he had claimed earlier out of his cloak pocket.
âI havenât just read them, Iâve lived them!â Dipper exclaimed, beside himself with elation as he began to pace around frenetically. âIâve been waiting for so long to meet you! I-I donât even know what to say, I have so many questions! I-â He abruptly cut himself off, so overwhelmed by his excitement that he had nearly gotten to the point where he wasnât able to even physically handle it as he weakly doubled over. âOhhhh, I think Iâm gonna throw up,â he groaned, prompting both Mabel and Steven to rush to his aid as he briefly gagged before trying his best to calm down. âUgh, o-ok! False alarm! J-just gotta ride it out!â
âListen, there will be time for questions and proper introductions later,â Ford advised before turning back to his brother. âBut first, tell me, Stan: are there any security breaches? Does anyone else know about this portal?â
âNo, just us,â Stan assured, arms crossed. ââŠAlso maybe the entire U.S. government.â
âThe what!?â Ford gasped, completely appalled to hear such alarming news. And sure enough, this fact still rang true, for the security feed in the other room showed that the swarm of agents had already returned to the shack and were flooding inside under Powersâ command.
âFan out!â the head agent demanded. âWeâre not going anywhere until we find Stan Pines, the Crystal Gems, and those kids!â
âGeez, those guys are still looking for us?!â Amethyst asked with an aggravated huff. âYouâd think theyâd give it a rest already!â
âOk, itâs alright,â Ford said with an even sigh as he stepped back towards the portalâs remains. âWeâve got a while before they find this room. In the meantime, we just need to lay low and think of a plan.â
âYes, and maybe while weâre at it we can try and figure all of this outâŠâ Pearl noted, her expression still filled with dread and doubt at the thought that Rose had been keeping their lost memories hidden from them for so long.
âSpeaking of figuring things outâŠâ Mabel said leadingly as she looked towards both Stan and Ford. âLooks like weâre all gonna be stuck down here for a while. So⊠who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?â
âYes, I have some questions about all this myself, Stanley,â Ford remarked amidst taking down a few notes in the journal he had on hand. However, what he failed to notice was how confused everyone else was upon hearing him call the conman by such a name.
âStanley?â Dipper questioned, looking to his uncle in apt wonder.
âBut⊠your name is StanfordâŠâ Mabel clarified with a frown, though Ford was quickly caught off guard upon hearing this as he turned to face his brother sharply.
âWait, you took my name?!â he asked angrily. âWhat have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!â
âWait, hold on!â Amethyst cut in, looking to the conman in upset surprise, her former feelings of betrayal towards him all quickly rushing back. âAre you serious?! First thereâs all those fake IDs and stuff, then this portal thing, and now you arenât even who I thought you were?! What the heck, Stan?! Just how many other things have you told me and everyone else over the years that just werenât true!?â
Stan couldnât help but flinch upon hearing the purple Gemâs incredibly harsh tone, but his guilt only grew upon catching the distrustful, sour glares from most of the others, including his own nibblings. âYeah, Grunkle Stan, no more lies!â Dipper asserted firmly. âYou owe us some answers. Whatâs the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?â
âAnd what exactly made you think it was anywhere near remotely safe to operate a device that could have potentially destroyed the entire universe as we know it?!â Pearl asked just as hotly, still clearly infuriated over that dire aspect of all of this.
âAnd what happened between you and your brother?â Mabel asked, mainly just wanting to know why there seemed to be so much bitterness and hostility between her two grunkles.
âI hope all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan,â Soos said staunchly. âIf not, Iâll be very disappointed. My headcanons are at stake!â
âOk, ok,â Stan conceded, knowing that if there was any time for finally coming clean about everything, it would be now, in the aftermath of everything tearing itself apart. âI know a lotâs happened and I have a lot of explaining to do.â
âThatâs an understatement.â Garnet remarked rather dryly.
ââŠAnd itâd be a lot easier if I was able to do that explaining without any sass,â the conman deadpanned before continuing. âSo, here goes nothing. It all started⊠a lifetime agoâŠâ
1960s
Glass Shard Beach was a small New Jersey town, not known for much save for its rather mediocre salt water toffee. Still, despite its murky ocean, litter-ridden beach, and smog-filled city, this humble setting was home to young Stanford and Stanley Pines, nearly identical twin brothers both around the age of 12. The boys lived above the family business, Pines Pawns, located in the heart of the less than glamorous Lead Paint district, with their parents, who were both natives of Glass Shard themselves. Their father, Filbrick Pines, was, by all accounts, a strict, staunch, stoic, unsympathetic man, one had very little warmth and kindness to offer to anyone, his customers and his family alike. Ma Pines was a bit gentler than her husband, though only really when it came to her sons; her own customers, who solicited her supposed clairvoyance as an over-the-phone psychic, often called her out for overpricing and lying, claims that she had a smooth enough tongue to often easily refute.
As for the brothers themselves, they really couldnât have been more different. Stanford was not just the older of the two, but also, for lack of a better word, the stranger, in more ways than one. His most notable oddity was by far his six fingers on each hand, a very rare birth defect that was initially visible to just about everyone he met. However, what most were quick to learn about Ford right after that was that he was smart; more than smart really, he was brilliant, with an incredibly high IQ from even a very early age. While he excelled at really every subject academically, Ford found his interest namely in the oddities of the world, in the fantastic or supernatural anomalies he read about in books or saw in movies. He was fascinated in anything peculiar or unknown, and even more fascinated in trying to solve the mysteries behind such strangeness with a passion and zeal far beyond his years. Stanley, on the other hand, wasnât much interested in mysteries or anomalies, his academic preformance was just barely average on a good day, and he only had a total of ten fingers as opposed to twelve. But even so, Stan carried other, less obvious talents, from his well-gained street smarts to his surprising haggling abilities, which served his father well in the pawn shop downstairs. Generally though, Stan was a bit more of a rambunctious troublemaker, often called out for being a slacker and a goofball, though he hardly cared about his often sour reputation. As far as he was concerned, he only needed one person by his side, and that was his brother.
And for the most part, thatâs exactly how things were.
Throughout their shared childhood, Stan and Ford were inseparable, to the point that they were more than brothers, really; they were the very best of friends. No matter what the occasion, they always had each otherâs backs, through thick and thin, always ready to stand up for one another or even just encourage one another when they needed it most. Their brotherly bond was practically unbreakable, something that was clear to see from just how much time they spent together. Nearly, every day, the boys set out to the beach, both of them always eager and ready for whatever adventure they came across, for they knew that whatever they faced, no matter how big or how small, theyâd face it together.
On this particular day, the brothers had happened across an entirely new adventure, one that had taken them to a previously undiscovered cave on the far end of the beach. After punching through the boards blocking it off, Stan and Ford ventured inside, armed with only a flashlight as they explored the damp, darkened cavern, until they happened across something that, to the two young boys, was absolutely incredible.
âWhoa!â Ford exclaimed as he shined his flashlight over at the rather battered and time-weathered boat they had managed to find. âA shipwrecked sailboat, possibly haunted by pirate ghosts!â
âThis is the greatest thing Iâve ever seen!â Stan proclaimed, equally as amazed. âAnd I once saw a dead rat floatinâ in a bucket!â
âEw!â Ford chuckled, giving his brother a playful shove. âWhatâs wrong with you?â
âHuh, you know what this thing needs?â Stan asked, giving the downed sailboat a scrutinizing glance. Ford also looked to it just as thoughtfully, before both brothers ended up reaching the exact same conclusion.
âFlags!â
And so they acted on that idea, using their own shirts as makeshift flags for the ruined vessel as they began to pull it out onto the beach itself, proudly chanting âkings of New Jerseyâ all the while. It took some doing, but eventually the brothers managed to push the boat onto the shore so they could have better light to work on it by, but their plan was clear: they were going to fix it up to the best of their abilities and set sail to wherever their heartsâ desired. It was an ambitious dream, perhaps even a bit of an outlandish, childish one, but even so, the brothers were intent on making it happen, no matter what.
And so the boys worked late into the afternoon on their new pet project, scrounging up any stray materials they could find across the beach to help them patch the beaten boat back together. They hardly even noticed the hours passing by or the rather impressive sunburns they were both getting in the summer heat as they worked and laughed together, inspired by the adventures theyâd someday have on the open sea when their vessel was at last completed.
âYou almost done over there, poindexter?â Stan asked, falling flat onto the sand out of exhaustion after he finished haphazardly fixing one of the boatâs many lower holes.
âGive me just a second and⊠done!â Ford grinned as he pulled his paintbrush away from the side of the boat, looking proudly to the vesselâs new moniker. âI dub thee: the Stan Oâ War!â Before the brothers had a chance to celebrate this casual christening, however, their fun was abruptly cut off by a sudden pebble tossed to hit the back of Fordâs head. âOw! What the heck?â he exclaimed, disgruntledly rubbing the now sore spot as both him and Stan turned to see who had thrown it. Neither of them were really surprised to see that it was the notorious local bully, Crampelter and his two cronies, standing atop the nearby hill looking over the beach as he smirked down at the two younger boys smugly.
âWell, well, if it ainât the loser twins,â he mocked confidently. âNice boat. Ya get it at the dump. Ha!â He laughed, exchanging a triumphant high five with his equally snide friends.
âYou would know, Crampelter!â Stan growled hotly as he stood, shaking his fist at the bully. âGet lost!â
âPfft, like you scare me, runt,â Crampelter deadpanned. âListen, dorks, and listen good. Youâre a six-fingered freak,â he began, pointing at Ford, who could only glance down in embarrassment as he tried to conceal his hands. âAnd youâre just a dumber, sweatier version of him,â he called Stan out next, though instead of being flustered, his harsh glare for the bully only intensified. âAnd youâre lucky you have each other, cause neither of you will ever make any friends!â Crampelter let out another goading chuckle as him and his friends departed, further calling the twins dorks and losers all the while. All the same, Stan ran after them a few steps, refusing to let such cruel teasing slide without getting the last word in.
âYeah, thatâs right! You better run, you jerks!â he shouted threateningly, though he put his anger on hold upon glancing back at his brother. In light of everything Crampelter had just said, the most Ford could really do was look down at one of his hands in clear shame over something he had no way of changing or fixing whatsoever. âHey, donât let those idiots get to you,â Stan hurried to comfort his brother, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. âIf it makes ya feel any better, I heard that Crampelter still sucks his thumb, so if thatâs true, then youâve got nothing to be embarrassed about.â
âYes, I doâŠâ Ford sighed rather morosely, forcing his sights away from his extra fingers. âHe was right⊠I really am a freak⊠I just wonder if thereâs anywhere in the world where weirdos like me fit inâŠâ
Stanâs already sympathetic frown deepened upon hearing this, knowing that Ford being bullied for his six-fingered hands was no uncommon occurrence. Still, even though this kind of teasing happened rather frequently, Stan always hated seeing his brother so down and upset as a result of it, which was how he had gotten so good at lifting him up and comforting him from it over the years. âAw, chin up, buddy,â he assured with a warm smile as he helped Ford up to stand alongside him. âLook out there,â Stan nodded towards the sea stretching out wide and seemingly endless before them. âWhat do you see?â
âUm⊠the ocean?â Ford ventured, not sure about where his brother was going with this.
âWell, duh, the ocean,â Stan rolled his eyes. âBut you know what else is out there? The future. One of these days, you and me are gonna sail away from this dumb old town. Weâll hunt for treasure, get all the girls, and be an unstoppable team of adventurers!â
âY-you really mean it?â Ford asked with a small, but growing smile.
âYou know I do!â Stan boldly proclaimed. âItâll be us forever, just like its supposed to be! High-six?â He offered his hand out to his brother, who gladly met it in their own special version of a high five.
âHigh-six,â Ford laughed, clearly feeling much better from the usual kind support from his brother. Still, the boys both took one more glance out over the open ocean before they went back to their boat, their shared resolve to set sail upon it together someday ringing as a clear, hopeful promise in both their hearts. A promise that, for as far off as it might be, seemed completely within reach for them both.
And it was a promise they continued to hold onto, even as the years went by.
Stan and Ford sticking together remained a constant throughout their middle school endeavors, their close companionship as apparent to everyone who encountered them just as much as their academic differences were. Ford consistently remained at the top of their class, with grades so high they baffled even most teachers, though despite several offers to skip a grade, or even two, he never did. For if he had, that would have left Ford without Stan and Stan without Ford, an outcome that neither of the brothers really ever wanted to see happen. After all, the boys were both picked on by both bullies and teachers alike so frequently, singled out for a variety of reasons: Fordâs six fingers, Stanâs rebellious attitude, or even the simple fact that they were always by each othersâ sides, no matter what came their way. Still, the boys hardly minded their lack of friends aside from each other, even as they entered their high school years, for as long as they had each other, they knew they could make it through just about anything. From failed attempts at romance, to surviving arduous school work, to even just continuing work on the Stan Oâ War, which was progressing more and more by the day, Stan and Ford always had each othersâ backs. Through good times and bad, through successes and setbacks, the brothers knew above anything else, that they could always lean on each other to get through it all. And all the while, they continued dreaming of the future, of the day when their ship could finally set sail off into the unknown, but shining horizon, where opportunity and adventure awaited them both.
Until one fatefully day during the boysâ senior year of high school, when an unexpected wrench was thrown into the close-knit bond they had always known.
It had started out like any other day, with the twins sitting in study hall as usual. And as usual, Ford was hard at work on his studies, fervently reading and taking notes while Stan casually sat beside him, hardly engaged in any sort of academics as he instead reclined back in his seat and munched on his favorite snack of toffee peanuts. He was about to lean over to his brother and make a sardonic remark regarding his current boredom, but before he could, the PA blared with an announcement neither of the brothers had been expecting: âPines twins to the principleâs office. Pines twins to the principleâs office.â
âAw, great, what is it this time?â Stan remarked dryly, already pushing himself out of his seat. Ford followed him a bit apprehensively, expecting them to be called on account of something that his brother had gotten himself into some kind of unknown trouble. Though when they arrived at the office, they were quick to learn that this was apparently not the case.
âNot you,â the secretary stopped the brothers just shy of reaching the principles door, motioning for Stan to remain outside and Ford to go on in. âHim.â
The twins exchanged a rather confused glance at this, both of them knowing well that rare was the occasion that Ford ever did something wrong enough to actually get him in trouble. Still, Stan gave him a reassuring shrug as he took a seat outside the office, prompting Ford to head in on his own. Of course, he was even more surprised to find both of his parents sitting in front of the principleâs desk, their expressions all unreadable and expectant as they turned to face him. Ford took in something of an anxious breath as he took the empty seat in between his parents, folding his hands tightly in his lap as they all waited to hear what the principle had to say.
âNow, Mr. Pines, Iâd like to speak to you very frankly, if I may,â the principle began, his manner still just vague enough to make Ford worry about what they had all been called here for.
âVery frankly is the only way I speak,â Filbrick remarked as coldly as ever.
âWhen it comes right down to it, you have two sons here,â the principle said matter-of-factly. âOne of them is incredibly gifted, the other one is standing outside of this room and his name is Stanley.â
Ford couldnât help but frown upon hearing this, more than used to hearing others hail Stan as the lesser of the two of them by now, though that hardly meant he approved of it. But before he could say anything to correct the principleâs rather disrespectful claims, his mother cut in instead. âWhat are you saying?â she asked, appropriately confused.
âIâm saying your son, Stanford, is a genius!â the principle proclaimed with a wide grin. âAll his teachers are goinâ bananas over his science fair experiment! Ya ever heard of West Coast Tech?â he asked, handing Ford a pamphlet to the aforementioned school. âBest college in the country. Their graduates turn science fiction into science fact! The admissions team is visiting tomorrow to check out Stanfordâs experiment! Your son may be a future millionaire, Mr. Pines.â
Upon hearing this, Filbrickâs usually staunch, stoic expression lifted into what almost looked like a genuinely pleased, proud smile. âIâm impressed,â he noted, something that only amazed Ford even more than the news that he was even being considered for a college as prestigious as West Coast Tech. In all honesty, he had never really considered college much before, largely since he had always assumed that his future would entail him and Stan finishing their boat and traveling the world with it. But now, that first dream seemed to be replaced with a new one, much more exciting one, one where he could really put his excessively high intelligence into practice, where he could apply his already innate scientific knowledge, where he could possibly even figure out a way to change the world for the better. And even beyond that, perhaps West Coast Tech could be a place where he could learn to fit in, somewhere where his IQ would be appreciated instead of picked on, somewhere where he could finally belong.
By all accounts, it was far too good of an opportunity to pass up. And yet⊠it wasnât all as simple as it initially seemed as he was quickly reminded of the reality of it all.
âBut what about our little free spirit, Stanley?â Ma asked with genuine concern for her other sonâs future. Concern that Ford felt as well as he remembered that he wasnât all alone in this, or anything else really. After all, the promise him and Stan had made as kids still rang true: where they went, they went together. But how could they hope to do that now, when only one of them had this chance to excel while the other one wouldnât be receiving any such offer?
âThat clown?â the principle scoffed apathetically. âAt this rate, heâll be lucky to graduate high school. Look, thereâs a saltwater taffy store on the dock, and somebodyâs gotta get paid to scrub the barnacles off of it. Truth is, Stanfordâs goinâ places, while Stanleyâs not. But hey, look on the bright side; at least youâll have one son here in New Jersey forever.â
Unbeknownst to anyone inside the office, Stan had happened to overhear just about all of this from eavesdropping on the other side of the door. And suffice to say that a vast majority of it proved to be quite the blow to not just his self-confidence, but his hopes for the future as well. As he sank down to sit against the door, he put his head in his hands, fear filling him over the possibility that Ford might actually act upon this opportunity, that he might actually jump at the chance to leave him behind and move on to bigger and better things. True, Ford had never voiced the desire to really leave Glass Shard Beach outside of their plans to set sail on the Stan Oâ War someday, but still, it was a fear that Stan just couldnât shake, no matter how implausible it might be. In fact, it was a worry he had always secretly harbored, the idea that Ford might someday want something more than what they had planned, that they might end up parting ways, that their dynamic duo would suddenly somehow fall apart. That without him, heâd be left friendless, stagnant, and alone.
Still, Stan couldnât know for sure what Ford really intended on doing until later that evening, when the brothers finally found a peaceful moment alone on the swing set at the beach. As their parents had proudly celebrated the opportunity that had dropped into Fordâs lap after the meeting with the principle, Stan had mostly hung back from it all in apprehensive silence, something that he fretfully found his brother not even paying any mind as he instead spoke with clear excitement over everything West Coast Tech had to offer. Excitement that already gave Stan a pretty good idea about what his brother wanted to do, as much as it pained him to think about.
All the same, he forced out a small, sardonic laugh as they sat together on the swings, the crisp warmth of the spring evening making things seem lighter than they really felt. âHa, jokeâs on them if they think you wanna go to some stuffy college on the other side of the country,â Stan remarked, the slightest hint of bitterness in his tone. âOnce we get the Stan Oâ War finished, itâs gonna be beaches, babes, and treasure hunting for us until weâre a pair of crusty old men, right?â
Ford hesitated upon hearing this, looking up from the pamphlet in his hands to his brother with a small, almost bittersweet smile. âLook, Stan, I canât pass up a chance like this,â he began, deciding to be perfectly honest, though he could tell Stan wasnât a fan of the idea based on his worried manner alone. âThis school has cutting edge programs and multi-dimensional paradigm theory.â
âBeep-boop, I am a nerd robot,â Stan mocked, pulling off a robot pose to buffer his increasing aggravation with his brother. âThatâs you, thatâs what you sound like right now.â
Despite this teasing, Ford let out a brief chuckle, more than used to Stanâs playful joking by now. âWell, if the college board isnât impressed with my experiment tomorrow, then⊠ok, Iâll do the treasure hunting thing with you.â
ââŠAnd if they are?â
âWell, then, I guess you better come visit me on the other side of the country, you knucklehead,â Ford grinned warmly, giving his brother a light punch on the shoulder before standing up to head home. All the same, Stan lingered on the swings for a bit after that, refusing to share the same hopeful manner as his brother, for he saw no hope in any of this. The only thing he really could see was something unthinkable: a future where Ford was accepted into that college, where he gladly left and stayed, likely settling roots there and creating a successful life for himself as a result of his scientific accomplishments. And on the opposite end, there Stan would be, without much of a chance to make any name for himself, much less any kind of sustainable income, stuck in Glass Shard Beach forever, stuck in lonely obscurity forever, stuck without his brother forever.
His grip on the sides of the swing tightened as he glanced over at the Stan Oâ War, still sitting in its constant spot in the sand just a few feet away. For most of his youth, he had such ambitious dreams of the two of them jumping onto that boat the moment it was seaworthy, sailing wherever the wind took them and standing by each other throughout it all. Stan had always thought that Ford had shared those dreams, that they wanted the same thing: to stay together, no matter where they were. But now, that clearly wasnât the case; they wanted different things, they had different dreams, and in the end, they were going to go their separate ways, no matter how much Stan wanted to keep them together.
And it infuriated him.
In fact, it enraged him so much that he couldnât think of going home for the night just to hear his parents laud praise upon Ford for the successful future that awaited him. He couldnât think of facing his brother, who had every plan of leaving him behind without so much as a second thought. He couldnât think of going really anywhere else but school, where he knew all of these sudden troubles had first began. The gym was strangely unlocked for the night, as well as devoid of any security that the school was too cheap to hire, which allowed Stan easy access inside, where all of the science fair experiments were already set up for the following day. He had no real intentions in mind as he paced down the rows of tables hotly, bitterly snacking on his bag of toffee peanuts and seething to himself as he tried in vain to figure out how in the world Ford could even entertain the thought of breaking up their perfect, life-long team. But then, as he approached his brotherâs experiment, a very impressive perpetual motion machine Ford had configured and built all on his own as a show of his vast scientific capabilities, Stan quickly realized exactly how he could. Because it was always all so easy for Ford while it had always been a struggle for Stan. Because success had really always been dangling right in front of Fordâs face, and only now had he actually realized he could take it, but only to Stanâs detriment. Because clearly, Ford really was the better of the two, while Stan was anything but.
âUgh! This is all your fault, you dumb machine!â he growled, pouring all of his mounting frustration into the experiment before him, the very thing that would certainly prove to be Fordâs ticket into West Coast Tech the following day. And as that frustration reached his height, Stan lashed out, slamming his fist down onto the table it was sitting on, only for the machine to react almost immediately to the blow. A small piece of metal on its side came clattering off, a slight plume of smoke rising up from its internal mechanisms as a result, showing that clearly, something was wrong with it. âOh no!â Stan gasped, dropping his snack and instantly regretting his mistake as he frantically looked over the damaged machine. âW-what did I do?! I-I didnât mean to-â He cut his initial panic off with a steadying gasp as he looked to the machine again, not having any idea about what to do to fix it other than simply reattaching the piece that had fallen off. âT-There,â he sighed, noting that the machine looked like it was running as it should be. âAlright, good as new. Probably.â Unsure of what else to do, Stan hurriedly put a nearby tarp over the experiment and promptly left, hoping that Ford wouldnât notice. And really, how could he? After all, it was fixed, there was nothing to worry about. Except there was.
For the next day, Ford arrived to the gym just on time, well-dressed, ready and eager to meet with West Coast Techâs admission board. He took in a deep, steadying breath as the stoic group approached, knowing that his entire future depended on this one, integral moment; still, he strangely wasnât all too worried. He was certain that his perpetual motion machine would be more than enough to impress the board and grant him the highly coveted scholarship that would finally set him down a path far greater than any he had ever imagined before.
âAlright, kid,â the head advisee said, his tone rather cold as he looked to Ford, initially unimpressed. âShow us what you got.â
âO-ok,â Ford nodded, putting on the most confident smile he could muster. âWell, what if I told you that the future of technology was beneath this sheet?â His smile widened a bit as he removed the tarp from his experiment, only for the board membersâ expressions to remain as apathetic as before.
âIâd say we wasted a car trip,â the head advisee remarked, glancing between Ford and his experiment in staunch disapproval.
âWhat?!â Ford flinched, quickly looking back towards his machine only to find that it was completely still, with not so much as even a spark of energy coursing through it whatsoever. âT-thatâs impossible! It was stable yesterday! A-a fuse must have blown or something!â
âKid, a perpetual motion machine has one job: to not stop,â the head advisee said, swiftly crossing Fordâs name off their candidate list. âI donât think youâre West Coast material.â
Ford gasped at this, initially dumbfounded in disbelief as the board members walked off, taking his one chance for any real excellence with them. âN-no! Wait!â he pleaded desperately as he began to hurry after them. âJust give me another chance! I worked so hard! Please, I-â He stopped short as he happened to step on something lying on the gym floor: an empty bag of toffee peanuts. And while at first Ford hadnât the faintest idea about how his machine might have suddenly malfunctioned at the very worst of times, as he picked that bag up, he had no doubts about what, or rather who had ruined everything for him in one fell swoop.
Despite his lingering worries concerning Ford and his experiment, Stan had mostly managed to push such worries out of his mind by that night. True, he was still dreading the inevitable revelation that Ford was accepted and that come next fall, heâd be gone, but even if that did happen, there was still some time. Perhaps a few months would be all heâd need to convince his brother to change his mind, a few months to finish the Stan Oâ War and set out upon it, a few months for everything to return to the way it was supposed to be.
The only problem with such wishful thinking was that it was just that: wishful thinking.
For as Stan reclined on the living room couch casually paddle balling away while watching TV, he failed to hear Ford fiercely enter the house until his brother came to stand between him and the television, clearly seething with rage. âHey, whatâs the word, Sixer?â Stan asked with a smile of greeting, one that quickly faded into confusion upon seeing just how apparently furious his brother was.
ïżœïżœïżœCare to explain what this was doing next to my broken project?!â Ford growled as he held the bag of toffee peanuts up, instantly telling Stan everything he needed to know about what had happened.
âUhâŠ. O-okâŠâ Stan began quite awkwardly as he stood, unsure of how to really explain it all in a way that wouldnât set Ford off even more. âSo, I might have⊠a-accidentally been horsing around, and-â
âThis was no accident, Stan,â Ford snapped bitterly. âYou did this! You did this because you couldnât handle me going to college on my own and leaving you here all by yourself! And now because of you, any chances I had for getting into West Coast Tech are completely destroyed, just like my project!â
âLook, it was a mistake!â Stan countered earnestly. âI didnât mean to bust your thing up, I-I promise!â
âDo you honestly expect me to believe you!?â Ford argued sharply, his hands in tight fists at his sides. âEver since I got this offer yesterday, youâve done nothing but complain about it and try to talk me out of it! Honestly, I should have expected you to try and sabotage me like this just to keep me tied down to you!â
âWhoa, hold on, what?!â Stan shot back, narrowing his eyes at his brother. âYouâve gotta be kidding me. Up until yesterday, you seemed totally fine with being âtied down to meâ, but when the first offer for something âbetterâ drops into your lap, you jump on it without a second thought! What, did you just forget that the two of us have spent our entire damn lives together or something?!â
âWell of course I havenât! But be reasonable, Stanley! Weâre almost adults, for crying out loud! Its time for both of us to move on and live our own lives! We canât stay attached to each other at the hip forever!â
âEasy for you to say! Youâre the one whoâs actually going places! If they had let you into that fancy nerd school, then I would have been stuck here in boring, deadass New Jersey for rest of my life all by myself! But hey,â Stan let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he attempted to calm down. âIf you think about it, m-maybe thereâs a silver lining to all this, huh? Treasure hunting?â
Ford was silent for a moment upon hearing this, his expression awash in disbelief as he stared at his brother in shock over such a callous request before exploding in absolute anger. âAre you kidding me?! Why would I ever want to do anything with the person who sabotaged by entire future?!â At this, Ford found he could no longer contain his frustration as he acted upon it physically, shoving Stan hard back into the couch. Or rather, right into their father as he happened to enter the room, far from pleased over everything heâd just overheard.
âYou did what, you knucklehead?!â Filbrick hissed, griping his son by the front of his shirt as he glared at him relentlessly.
âStanley?â Ma asked tiredly as she entered the room, her young grandson bundled up and crying in her arms. âWhatâs goinâ on in here?â
âIâll tell ya whatâs goinâ on in here,â Filbrick remarked hotly, his threatening scowl enough to frighten Stan to the core. âYour little âfree spiritâ here just ruined Stanfordâs chances into gettingâ into that fancy college! Ainât that right?â he snapped over at Ford, whoâs tune had quickly changed from anger into sudden fear over just how infuriated his father seemed to be.
âI-I⊠uh, w-wellâŠâ he stammered, looking between Filbrick, and Stan, who was silently, desperately pleading with him to disprove it. Something that, in light of just how much his brother had cost him, Ford found he simply couldnât do.
âAh, forget it,â Filbrick scoffed over his other sonâs apprehensive silence. âI already heard the whole damn thing. Which means its time to do what I shouldâve done a long time agoâŠâ
âW-wait!â Stan begged as his father roughly dragged him downstairs. Ford gasped at this, unsure of what their father really intended on doing, which was why he promptly followed a safe distance behind them to see for himself. âNo! I-I canât explain! It was a mistake!â
âThe only mistake around here is you!â Filbrick yelled as he tossed Stan outside onto the curb hard. âYour brother was gonna be our ticket out of this dump! All you ever do is lie and cheat and ride off your brotherâs coattails. Well this time you cost our family potential millions! And until you make us a fortune, you ainât welcome in this household!â
With this, Filbrick threw a full duffle bag at his now disowned son, showing not the slightest bit of empathy or pity as he prepared to slam the door on him. However, right before he could, Ford, acting on impulse alone, happened to intervene. âW-wait!â he exclaimed, stepped up behind his father. âD-Dad, you⊠you canât⊠S-Stan wasnât⊠he didnât mean to-â
âOh what? All the sudden you wanna defend him?â Filbrick scowled as he stood over his other son rather imposingly. âIf ya feel so âsorryâ for him, then why donât you just pack up and join him on the street seeing as how neither of you are ever gonna amount anything now that-â
âFilbrick!â Ma swiftly interupted as she stood at the end of the stairs, tears in her eyes despite her severe expression over her husbandâs harsh actions. At this, Filbrick finally seemed to quell his rage, though just a bit as he turned to slam the door behind him, not sparing a word to either Stan or Ford as he solidified his decision.
âWait, no!â Stan cried one last time as he scrambled to pick himself up off the ground. âFord, tell him heâs being crazy!â He looked to his brother pleadingly, only to receive a look of both shame and betrayal all at once. Ford hung back, clearly terrified to rock the boat with their father again, lest he be kicked out just as Stan was, something that he understood well, but couldnât take all the same. âF-Ford?â he tried once again as Ford slowly turned away from him, his shoulders hunched with regret as he refused to look his brother in the eye, even one last time. âD-donât leave me hanginâ⊠High six?â he offered his hand with a weak smile, one that was never returned as Filbrick finally slammed the door on him, shutting him out of his home, out of his family, just like that.
And for a moment, the most Stan could really even do in light of this was simply stand there, nearly on the verge of tears as he realized he had just lost everything in one fell swoop. Yet that wasnât even the worst part of it all. The worst part, was that, despite his first meager attempt to stop this, in the end, Ford had still chosen everything else over him. Which meant that now, he really was all alone, just as he had feared.
âF-fine,â Stan began, forcing his grief out in place of anger as he gripped the bag his father had apparently packed for him in anticipation of kicking him out. Yet another sign of just how little he clearly meant to his own family, he assumed. âI can make it on my own! I donât need you! I donât need anyone!â he shouted back at the closed off house, hoping that his father and especially Ford could hear him. âIâll make millions and youâll rue the day you ever turned your back on me!â Without sparing any of them another word, Stan abruptly turn and got into his car, speeding away from his former home as fast as he could. All the same, before he turned off the block for good, he couldnât help but spare one final, remorseful glance at everything he was leaving behind, knowing that despite his fatherâs refusal to listen to reason, despite his brotherâs hesitance to stand up and defend him, despite all of the guilt he could just as easily place on everyone else, he only had himself to blame.
Which meant that the only one he could depend on to fix it all was himself.
And so, after a sleepless night spent in his car, Stan set out to do exactly that. With no real plan for sustaining himself in mind, he decided to go with the best thing he could think of: treasure hunting. Of course, the Stan Oâ War was still a ways off from completion, and without Fordâs help, Stan doubted that it would ever really be seaworthy. So instead, he decided to begin his search for wealth right on Glass Shard Beach itself. Armed with only a metal detector, he began combing the shore, hoping that somewhere buried deep beneath it would be the treasure that would prove to his entire family that he was so much more than screw up they thought him to be. Unfortunately, despite his thorough efforts, the most the shore really had to offer were discarded cans and other such assorted litter, things that certainly werenât going to get him anywhere close to rich any time soon.
What did have a chance at getting him rich was something Stan hadnât really considered before, but was instantly inspired to do upon spotting a well-placed billboard near the beach: becoming a traveling salesman. With no home or family to tie him down any longer, Stan found that he was easily able to throw himself into the on-the-go entrepreneur lifestyle as he began his very first lone business venture: Stan Co. Enterprises. He worked out of his car, going door to door at first and selling home and personal products from vacuums to coat hangers to everything in between, all made out of the cheapest materials he could possibly amass so he could make the biggest profit possible in return. After he had made a decent amount of money, Stan began advertising his wares on late-night infomercial spots, which he was glad to see boosted his sales even more. However, what the young salesman hadnât been anticipating was that his customers wouldnât be satisfied with the rather poor quality of his wares. One item in particular, the Sham Total, caught the ire of its users, as, instead of removing stains like it was promoted to do, its cheap dye only served to make them much, much worse. Stan quickly learned about his customerâs frustration firsthand as they swarmed his market stand on the boardwalk as an angry mob, complete with riotous demands for refunds and pitchforks in hand. Fortunately for Stan, he had sold them said pitchforks, and they were all just about as faulty and defective as any other product he offered, which allowed him to make a clean getaway, without returning any of their money to them whatsoever.
Of course, such fraud and essential theft was highly illegal in the state of New Jersey, but Stan only narrowly avoided jailtime for it in exchange for never entered the state again. The young salesman hardly even cared as he left his home state for the last time, officially banned from it as he ventured into Pennsylvania, wisely changing his name so that he could keep his still-fledgling business intact. Still, Stan, or as he now referred to himself, Steve Pinington, had hardly learned his lesson when it came to selling defective products, for despite his Rip-Off brand bandages being advertised to not give users rashes, they did exactly that. After just a few short weeks, Stan was effectively driven out of Pennsylvania and onto the next state, changing his name yet again in the process.
And so things continued in a similar process for the next several years. After realizing that his attempts at playing entrepreneur werenât working to make him much of a profit, Stan decided to try his hand at various other get rich quick schemes. From betting on horse races, to trying his hand at the lottery, to money laundering scams, to even getting involved with mobs and cartels, he tried just about everything he could think of to make his way in the world. Of course, getting a regular job would have been much easier, but he was quick to find that most places had no interest in hiring a high school dropout with a rapidly growing criminal history to his name, or rather names. It had been quite some time since he had gone by Stanley Pines, and in its place were several other conjured IDs thought up throughout his travels: Stetson Pinefied, Hal Forrester, Andrew â8-Ballâ Alcatraz, and those were just a few of the false identities he fabricated, identities that allowed him to travel across the country, and in a few cases even outside of it, as he pleased. True, it wasnât always easy; living out of his car was far from glamorous, money for food, or for anything else really, wasnât often guaranteed, and he had made more than a few enemies in his misadventures, from law enforcement officers to thugs and gangsters. But even despite all of the struggles, he was his still own man, finally cut loose from being just âFordâs brotherâ as he had been known throughout his entire youth. And while acting on his own and having to fight all his own battles carried plenty of problems of its own, Stan kind of preferred it like that.
After all, with no one in the world left to rely on, not even his own twin brother, that meant that the only one he could rely on was himself.
Present Day
Seeing that the kids in particular were rather overwhelmed by the lengthy story he was detailing for them, Stan decided to take a brief break, though only really to counter the sullen scowl Ford was sending his way. Even the Gems were just as quick to notice the tension between the two brothers, but neither of them really said anything on it seeing as how they were still very eager to learn what their apparent part in all of this was. Yet even so, they had been paying attention thus far, something that, out of all three of them, Pearl was the one to prove as she spoke up, giving the conman something of a critical frown.
âSo I suppose all that time âon the runâ explains those fake IDs of yours we found?â she asked somewhat caustically.
âOh, gee, I dunno, Pearl,â Stan deadpanned, clearly in no mood to contend with both her and Ford at the same time. âMaybe all those IDs belong to some other guy who got kicked out of his family and had to run around all over the country for over ten years just to get by.â
Pearl simply let out a disgruntled scoff upon hearing this, one that Ford lightly echoed as he shook his head in obvious disapproval of his brotherâs sarcasm. Still, Stan hardly paid either of them any mind as he happened to glance over at Amethyst, who remained in sullen silence as she glared away from him, arms crossed and expression sour. He was half tempted to address her, to apologize from everything he had harbored from one of his closest friends for long, but before he could get the chance, Steven interjected.
âWowâŠâ he said with a sympathetic frown for Stan and Ford after pondering all they had just heard. âWhat happened between you guys⊠itâs⊠itâs really sadâŠâ
âIt sure is!â Mabel quipped just as fretfully before trying her best to perk up a bit. âI know exactly what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out!â She grinned brightly, looking between the brothers as they stood a good distance away from each other, their backs turned and their expressions petulant as the refused to do anything of the sort. âHug it out!â Mabel tried again, this time a bit less insistently as her smile started to falter. âH-hug trainâs coming in the station! Hugapalooza! Two thousand!â
âUh⊠m-maybe you guys just need a good example?â Steven offered a bit less excitably. âItâs easy, all you have to do is open your arms out wide and-â The young Gem finished by pulling both Mabel and Dipper into a sudden hug, one that the former gladly welcomed, despite her surprised blush, though the latter was by far less enthusiastic about.
âUgh, you guys, come on,â Dipper scowled as he pulled himself away from the pair, averting their confused glances rather bitterly. âKnock it off. Now isnât the time to be messing around, ok?â
âAw, but come on, bro-bro, we were just-â Mabel found herself abruptly cut off by the hand her brother put up, making it quite clear that had no interesting in addressing either her or Steven at the moment. And they both had a heavy hunch about what the exact reason for such staunch avoidance really was, as much as it worried them both. Â
Instead, Dipper turned his attention over to Ford since he was by far more curious about whatever the authorâs intriguing, unknown past might have entailed than Stanâs history of lying and deceit. âSo wait, what about you?â he asked curiously. âDid you end up going to your dreams school?â
Ford let out a rather frustrated sigh at this, paired with an irritated glare that was clearly intended for Stan in light of what had transpired between them years ago. âNot exactlyâŠâ
Early 1970s
Backupsmore University was far from being anything close to a prestigious college, placed in a small town only a few hours outside of Glass Shard Beach, with a subpar enrollment number and mediocre programs and facilities. However, given that his chances for getting into any ivy league school like West Coast Tech had been all but ruined, Ford had found that he really had no other choices when it came to his higher education. Backupsmore, while quite underwhelming, had at least offered him a decent academic scholarship, one that he begrudgingly took in the hopes that he could at least advance his future somehow. Besides, anything that got him out of Glass Shard Beach and out from his under fatherâs almost oppressively strict thumb, Ford considered to be a plus.
Still, that didnât mean he was exactly excited about venturing off into his college career on his own. For the entire summer after Stan had been kicked out, Ford often found himself lost in a sea of unanswerable âwhat ifsâ. What if he had been accepted into West Coast Tech? What if Stan hadnât been kicked out? What if things between the two of them hadnât been completely torn apart over one simple instance neither one of them could have ever really predicted?
Or more than that, what if he had the courage and the nerve to stand up to his father, to walk right out that door and join his brother in an uncertain, but still united future?
Truthfully, heâd never know. Because on that family-shattering night, Ford had made his choice, just as Stan had made his choice to take away his chances for a securely successful future out of spite. And his choice to walk alone and forge his own path to success was one he was determined to stand by, no matter what.
But all the same, forging that path was far from easy work. Ford threw himself into his studies from day one of his freshman year, relentlessly pouring over any book that came his way and acing every single exam he took. He quickly gained a reputation on campus as âthe six-fingered geniusâ, as well as a plethora of other goading nicknames, though Ford paid none of them any mind. He had long since given up on the endeavor of a social life in favor of his academic pursuits, in which he was making great strides. It wasnât always smooth sailing; Backupsmore didnât often know how to handle a student as high preforming as Ford, but even so he managed to advance through his undergraduate program three years ahead of schedule, an outstanding record for anyone at the college by far. His graduate studies were every bit as successful, with tireless, sleepless days and nights spent working on his masterâs thesis, one that was impressive enough to gain recognition and adulation on a national scale. By the time Ford finished his studies with multiple PhDs under his belt, the university awarded him with what was by far the highest honor he could have hoped for: a substantial grant for $100,000, intended to fund any research endeavor of his choice.
To Ford, it was like a dream come true. So much work, so much time, and so much effort, and through it all he had cultivated the means to finally go out and explore literally anything his heart desired. Excitement practically overwhelmed him in the weeks following graduation as he tried to figure out exactly what scientific pursuit he wanted to follow with this hefty grant. In all honesty, there were so many options available to him, from aerodynamic physics, to theoretical astronomy, to advanced robotics, and literally everything in between. And yet, as the fresh graduate pondered over his abundant choices, his mind often wandered back to his own six-fingered hands every time he so much as glanced down at them. Throughout his childhood and teen years, even a good portion of his college experience, his polydactylism had often been a stimulus of sour ridicule towards him from his peers. And yet⊠for as odd and sometimes off putting as he often say his apparent defect, Ford couldnât deny that there was an element of unique strangeness to it, to the point that it could certainly be classified as an anomaly of sorts. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was far from the only anomaly out there; certainly, the world was filled with incredibly strange things, the likes of which no one had ever seen before, just waiting to be discovered and studied and reported on by someone intrepid enough to seize such a challenge. And fortunately for Ford, he was more than intrepid and dedicated enough to take on such a bold, untapped field, all on his own.
With his mission in mind, all that was really left was for Ford to pick a base of operations for his research. Ideally, it would be somewhere where reports of oddities and bizarre sightings were common, highly concentrated even, so that his research could be contained to one set geographical place. And, after some intensive investigations, Ford eventually managed to pinpoint a place that had exactly that, a small Oregonian town, one that rarely even made an appearance on most maps at all, yet by all accounts, seemed to be home to countless unknown anomalies never seen or heard of before:
Gravity Falls.
And so, thatâs exactly where he went. With his grant check in his pocket and purpose in his heart, Ford set out on the long, cross-country drive to Oregon, ready to begin his search for the unknown. Upon his initial arrival, Gravity Falls didnât seem that notable; just a little lumberjack town, nestled within a cozy little valley of deep pine forests and populated by what appeared to be average, unassuming people. However, as the young researcher drove in closer to the town, he happened to notice one particular facet about it that made him pull his car to a stop and stare in apt amazement.
From an initial glance, it appeared to be some sort of statue, rising high above the town from the tall cliff face it was carved into. The statue was carved into the shape of a woman, massive and stately, with several arms with palms held up towards the sky, and a mask of two stoic, yet steadfast faces. Needless to say that Ford was completely awestruck upon seeing such a monument, and already, his curiosity was peaked for whatever secrets it, as well as the rest of this seemingly normal town might hold.
In fact, his interest about this statue was so peaked that he ended up purchasing a plot of land in the forest just down the hill from it to build his new home, or rather, his base of operations on. His grant money would be more than enough to cover the construction costs, leaving Ford to begin his initial investigations. Of course, he didnât have to look very far for any strangeness, for not but a day after he had arrived, a massive, wooden hand emerged from the depths of the forest and swept his car away entirely. While normally, he would have been distraught or even outraged at the loss of his main method of transportation, Ford couldnât have been any more excited by this sign that truly, something bizarre, maybe even supernatural lurked within this odd little town.
In fact, as the days passed on into weeks, Ford only began to spot even more oddities betwixt the forests of Gravity Falls, to the point that it was quickly becoming clear that he wouldnât be able to keep the reports of his findings restrained to the small notebook he had brought along with him. And so, in order to properly document the fascinating strangeness he happened across every day, the young researcher decided it would be best to chronicle it all within a series of journals-
Present Day
âAHHHH!â
Ford cut his ongoing narration off at this absolutely elated squeal, one that had, much to everyoneâs surprise, had come from Dipper. âThe journals!â he exclaimed, heavily excited over the mere mention of the long-unknown origin of the trio of books. His enthusiasm quickly quelled into embarrassment however, upon noticing that the others were all looking to him rather awkwardly, all of them apparently caught off guard by his interruption, including the author himself.
âOh, uh⊠s-sorry,â Dipper quickly apologized, suppressing a flustered blush as he averted eye contact with the others. âI-I, um, just got⊠kinda excited there⊠a-about the journals⊠k-keep⊠keep talking.â
Another beat of tentative silence passed in light of this, but it soon came to an end as Ford continued right where he had left off. âSo as I was saying, I began to keep a journal-â
âAHHHHH!â Dipper inadvertently interupted Ford once again, unable to contain his excitement over the books even a second time, though he forced himself to be calm as Garnet patiently shushed him so Ford could go on.
âJust going to ignore that,â the author said staunchly as he dove right back into telling his compelling tale.
1970s
With his journals serving as the idea way to document all of the countless anomalies he came across, Ford finally began to investigate the unique oddities of Gravity Falls in depth, and he was far from disappointed with what he saw. From floating eyeballs, to cursed doors, to even the surprisingly large population of gnomes dwelling deep within the woods, the unexpectedly incredible little town had so much strangeness to offer, both supernatural and otherwise. And yet, for all of the anomalies he found on his frequent forays deep into the forest, there was still one mystery that baffled the young researcher as the weeks of his time there passed into months. A mystery that was only a short walk right up the hill from his very own home.
And after months of being preoccupied by smaller, more cursory explorations, Ford decided that perhaps it was finally time to look into that massive, almost ethereal statue for himself. He started his investigation by asking around town about it, but none of the rumors he heard seemed to bear much weight, including whispers of women who changed their shape and could pull weapons out of stones on their bodies. So in light of having so little to go off of, Ford decided on one crisp autumn day that if he wanted answers to this curiosity hanging almost literally right over his head, heâd just have to find them for himself.
While the young researcher wasnât exactly sure what he had been expecting to find, what he ended up encountering during that trudge up the hill towards the statue gave him quite a scare. For as he was writing down some cursory notes in his journal on his way up to the statue, Ford suddenly found himself pushed abruptly to the ground by a creature that was quite unlike any he had encountered in Gravity Falls thus far. It was a large, lumbering monster, with multiple limbs and a semi-gelatinous form, though what was quite interesting about it was the fact that it possessed what appeared to be some kind of sparkling stone in place of where its face should have been. For a moment, the most Ford could do was stare at this creature in both amazement and fear as it stood over him, growling ferally, but as quickly as it had pinned him down, it reared up on its hind legs, ready to crash down hard. And yet, before it could, something bright, fast, and pink rammed into its side, abruptly shoving it off the frightened young researcher. As disoriented as he was, Ford only had a moment to pick himself up into a sitting position and readjust his askew glasses before looking over to his saviors, who only managed to baffle him even more.
A group of four women had descended seemingly out of nowhere, each of them bearing some form of deadly combat weapon as they fought the gelatinous creature head on. The smallest of the bunch, short and almost childlike in statue and oddly predominantly purple in coloration, lashed a spiked whip out at the beast, wrangling it down securely. This gave her supposed teammate, a lithe, limber woman with porcelain white skin and a smooth stone of the same color on her forehead, a chance to swoop in with a courageous battle cry, a spear in hand as she skewered the monster down to the ground. From there, another one of the group, a taller woman with a cubical black afro and heavily-fortified battle gauntlets, delivered a powerful right hook to the creature, further incapacitating it to allow the last member of this apparent team to finish the job. By her presence alone, it was easy to tell that she was the leader, tall yet oddly genteel in her appearance, from her elegant white gown to her mass of pink, perfect ringlet curls as she stepped forward almost solemnly, an impressive claymore of a blade in one hand and a shimmering shield over her other. And then, as she stood right before the writhing creature, she lashed out, her sword cleanly hitting its mark; with a simple twist of the blade, the monsterâs form completely dissipated, leaving only its bizarre stone behind. The pink-haired woman placed her hand over it, somehow forming a small, shimmering bubble around it before making it disappear into thin air before she turned to address her teammates.
âExcellent work, Gems!â she congratulated warmly, the other three clearly soaking up her adulation as their weapons seemed to vanish in bursts of sparkles. âIt hardly took us any time at all to beat that one! Like I always say, its easier when we work together.â
âIt certainly isâŠâ the pale woman grinned proudly, intertwining her hand with her leaders, much to the smallest memberâs playful annoyance.
âAw, câmon, Pearl, if you wanna have your âspecial timeâ with Rose, then get a room,â she remarked, teasingly sticking her tongue out, much to the pale womanâs embarrassment. Still, the other two let out amused chuckles at this, though the second tallest one stopped short upon spotting Ford, who was still stuck on his spot as he started at them in immense awe and curiosity to learn more about these mysterious warrior women.
âRose,â the taller Gem nudged her leaderâs free arm, nodding in the young researcherâs direction. At this, the pink haired woman glanced over her shoulder, surprised at first, though her admittedly lovely expression soon broke out into a wide, cordial grin.
âOh! Hello, there!â she greeted brightly as she turned to face him fully, revealing the bright pink gemstone where her exposed naval would have been. All the same, she headed over to him, her teammates following close behind as she extended a hand out to help him up. âI hadnât noticed that monster was attacking a human! Looks like we got here just in time. Are you alright?â
For a moment, Ford couldnât seem to find any words to say to the impressive woman before him, largely since he was so awestruck by whatever she apparently was. Of course, she had set the distinction herself that she wasnât human, despite her very human-like appearance, which only made him wonder about her and her friends all the more as he took her hand somewhat apprehensively. âUh, I-I⊠um⊠n-noâI-I mean, y-yes! Yes, I am,â he nodded as he rose to stand somewhat unsteadily, surprised by just how small he felt compared to the very tall woman before him.
âPfft, doesnât look alright,â the small, purple girl remarked with a sly sneer as she elbowed her paler teammate. âPretty sure this oneâs broken, donât ya think, Pearl?â
âOh please, Amethyst,â the pale woman scoffed, crossing her arms as she stole a somewhat disdainful glance at the young researcher. âHumans canât break, isnât that right, Rose?â
âWell, they can,â the pink haired woman chuckled. âBut I donât think this one is, are you?â
âUm⊠I donât⊠believe soâŠâ Ford replied, rather confused by such an odd question. In all honesty, he wasnât entirely sure how to properly carry himself in front of such odd, yet ethereal women, but all the same, they seemed friendly enough. Which was a relief given some of the more dangerous creatures lurking in the woods around Gravity Falls.
âCouldâve fooled us,â the second tallest Gem remarked, her tone staunch and stoic.
âSo, you got a name, not-broken human?â the purple girl asked quite casually, rocking back and forth on her feet.
âOh, I-I⊠itâs Stanford. Stanford Pines,â he said as solidly as he could, extending a hand out for them to shake. The women were apparently not accustomed to this standard greeting practice, but the small one let out a surprised gasp as she suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled it down a bit, much to Fordâs alarm.
âWhoa! You guys, check this out!â she exclaimed, her expression awash in amazement. âThis humanâs got an extra finger!â
Upon being called out for this, Ford was quick to pull his hand away, his cheeks lighting up in a flustered red as he tried his best to conceal his hands, though the pink haired woman extended hers out to him, a small, eager smile on her face all the while. âCan I see?â she asked, her tone curious, warm even. Warm enough to, for whatever reason, convince Ford to hold his hand out for her to get a better look. âOh, wow! Itâs true!â she gasped, her smile widening as she looked back up to Ford, clearly impressed. âHow remarkable! Iâve never seen a human with six fingers before! This really is something special, donât you agree, Gems?â
The smaller and the taller women both nodded with intrigued smiles, though the paler one lingered close to their leader, giving Ford a critical, almost suspicious glance until she met the pink haired womanâs bright smile, making her harsh manner fizzle somewhat. âMm⊠I suppose itâs⊠somewhat interesting,â she remarked dryly. âFor a human that isâŠâ
While Ford was somewhat confused by her strangely cold attitude, he couldnât deny how caught off guard he was by the other three women. Specifically by the fact that they seemed rather amazed by his polydactylism rather than put off by it, which of course, only made him want to know more about these so called âGemsâ. âUm⊠forgive me if this sounds a bit rude,â Ford began, his stone till somewhat uncertain. âBut⊠what exactly are the four of you?â
âOh! Iâm sorry!â the pink haired woman laughed. âI were so fascinated by you that I didnât even think to introduce us! Well, this is Amethyst,â she nodded down to the purple girl, who smirked wryly as she waved up to the young researcher. âThatâs Garnet,â she placed a hand on the taller Gemâs shoulder as she greeted him with a casual nod. âAnd this is Pearl,â she smiled to the pale woman clinging tightly to her, still refusing to so much as even smile at Ford for some unknown reason. âAnd Iâm Rose Quartz,â she finished sweetly, though her expression took on a bit of resolve as she motioned to the entire group. âAnd weâre the Crystal Gems!â
âCrystal⊠Gems?â Ford asked with a confused frown, taking another glance down at the gemstone on Roseâs stomach. âAs in⊠gemstones?â
âIn a senseâŠâ Rose nodded, prompting Garnet to hold up her gem-bearing palms and for Amethyst to pull her top down a bit, revealing the gem on her chest. Pearl huffed impatiently as she pointed to the stone on her own head, allowing Ford to see that all four of these Gems were exactly that: Gems.
âIncredibleâŠâ Ford mused in apt amazement as he pulled out his journal and hurriedly began taking down notes. âSentient humanoid gemstones! And the four of you fight monsters like that on the regular?â
âYes,â Garnet nodded, quite sparse with her words.
âWe just so happen to be the protectors of this town, the ones responsible for keeping it, as well as this entire planet, safe from harm,â Pearl remarked somewhat snidely, casting a brief, unfavorable glance down at Fordâs journal as he eagerly continued writing. âBy the way⊠w-whatever you said your name was, you got to ask us a question, so now its our turn. What exactly is that?â she nodded to the journal as the young researcher happened to glance up from it.
âOh, this?â he smiled, somewhat oblivious to the white Gemâs dry tune as he held the book up for the Gems to see. âItâs a journal that Iâve been using to take notes of all of the supernatural oddities Iâve come across in this town.â
âUh⊠why do that?â Amethyst asked, rather confused as Ford handed the journal off to Rose so she could get a better look at it. âYou could just go outside and look at all the weird stuff around here; thatâs way easier than writinâ it all down.â
âWell, thatâs because Iâm a scientific researcher,â Ford proclaimed rather proudly. âI came here a few months ago and set up shop just down the hill,â he nodded to his house, which was still in sight at the bottom of the hill. âIn order to study whatever strange, bizarre, or downright confounding anomalies Gravity Falls has to offer before one day sharing my findings with the world!â
âHm⊠so thatâs where that unsightly little building came fromâŠâ Pearl muttered, still somewhat cross.
âAnomalies?â Rose questioned with a soft, but enthusiastic gasp. âYouâre here to figure out what makes this town so unique too? Weâve been looking into the exact same thing for over 100 years now!â
âRose, are you sure we should-â Pearl attempted to intervene, though she was quickly cut off.
âReally?â Ford asked, very intrigued to hear that someone else shared his immense curiosity when it came to the odd facets of the town. Â
âOf course!â the pink Gem smiled warmly. âCome with us to our temple, its right up the hill. Weâd be more than happy to tell you, or rather show you everything weâve learned so far!â
âRose-â Pearl tried once more, appalled that her liege would make such an offer out of the blue.
âO-oh, well Iâd be honored to!â Ford complied excitedly, gladly following after Rose as she began to lead the way up to the massive statue.
âB-but Rose!â the white Gem protested once more, though her frustration fell on deaf ears as Rose and Ford had already launched into conversation about the mysteries of Gravity Falls. Pearl let out a disgruntled sigh, far from happy about having yet another human around, especially since that was a problem she hadnât really had to worry about much during their tenure in Gravity Falls. Of course, Amethyst only managed to rub salt in the wound as she skipped past her teammate, letting out a teasing laugh as she did.
âAw, Pearl, I dunno what youâre so upset about,â she smirked as she flipped over to walk on her hands. âLooks like we got another huge nerd around here, so you and Science Man should get along great!â
âAmethystâŠâ Pearl grumbled bitterly as the purple Gem ran off, though as Garnet passed by her she paused to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
âDonât worry,â she said, adjusting her shades. âThis one isnât going to end like you think it will.â
Pearlâs angry expression lightened into a look of both surprise and confusion upon hearing this, but Garnet didnât bother elaborating as she continued on ahead. âG-Garnet, wait!â the white Gem exclaimed, running after her teammate, anxious and hopeful all at once. âWhat does that mean? Garnet!â
Even from their initial meeting, it was easy for anyone to see that Rose and Ford had hit it off. They spent several hours sitting up near the entrance to the Gemsâ obviously mystical temple, exchanging stories of the anomalies they had each encountered during their time in Gravity Falls thus far. While Pearl wasnât initially interested in joining in on the conversation, Amethyst and Garnet did, interjecting with their own observations occasionally, all of which Ford made mental notes on to investigate further. The young researcher was so invested in this riveting discussion with these fascinating women that he found it hard to pull himself away and back down to his house, but eventually he did, though he left with the assurance that he could continue this exchange of information with the Gems tomorrow. A meeting that he gladly showed up to the following day. And the day after that. And the day after that.
In fact, nearly every day onward, Ford and the Gems encountered each other in some way shape or form, be it formal meetings or chance encounters as they explored the supernatural oddities of Gravity Falls on their own. In light of how many times they ran into each other, Ford and Rose eventually reached a conclusion: the five of them would be much more effective working together in their pursuit of knowledge than they were apart. And so, they decided to form something of a partnership, one in which they set out as a collective force, thoroughly searching the wilds of Gravity Falls for anything interesting they might find.
Researching alongside the Gems, Ford found himself learning more than he ever had about the supernatural than he had when he had worked alone. Rose knew the valley well, and she seemed to be on generally good terms with most of the strange creatures that lived therein, who were all naturally trusting of her kind, gentle nature. The in she provided him with greatly aided the young researcher, allowing him to investigate these anomalies up close and personal, granting him with so much new information that his initial journal all too quickly filled, prompting him to resort to a second one and eventually, even a third.
Of course, the longer he studied alongside Rose and the Gems, the more variety Ford saw in the oddities Gravity Falls seemed to innately possess. From unicorns to ghosts to even the egg to a bizarre, shapeshifting creature they had found, the supernatural was abundant in the backwoods town. Practically every new discovery left Ford and Rose both besides themselves with excitement, their zeal for learning more about the world around them completely parallel and passionate.
And through that zeal and passion, a deep, genuine friendship had formed through their initial partnership, one that both of them valued highly. An undeniable bond of trust came to exist between the pink Gem and the young researcher, to the point that any time they were in each otherâs company, they were essentially as content as they could be.
Though it took a bit longer for the other Gems to warm up to Ford as Rose so quickly had, in time, they did as well. Amethyst was eager and curious, particularly when it came to what she had dubbed as âhuman thingsâ, to the point that every time she stepped foot in Fordâs house, he often spent most of his time explaining to her what things like a radio or a refrigerator were. In something of a bittersweet way, her rouge, careless attitude sometimes reminded him a bit too much of Stan⊠but every time such thoughts of his distanced brother came to mind, Ford was quick to push them away.
Garnet was a bit of an interesting case, often silent and stoic and firm in words and action. For the first few months, Ford found it rather hard to strike up a conversation with her, that is until he learned of her unique ability in foresight, what she commonly referred to as future vision. From then on, the young researcher often found himself coming to Garnet for statistics and probability, things that she was rather adept at; such scientific inquiries soon led to the occasional offhand joke or complimentary remark between the two, forming a casual camaraderie as time went on.
Of course, it took the longest amount of time for Ford to form an actual working relationship with Pearl, who continued to show her initial unexplained bitterness towards him for even up to a year after they met. The white Gem refused to explain her reasoning for it and the young researcher never really thought to ask, even despite Rose patiently encouraging that they try to work together and get along. However, if there was one thing both Ford and Pearl could agree on, it was their love of science. While there were plenty of times where theyâd argue over equations and theory, on the rare occasion when theyâd agree on something, theyâd do so with a surprising amount of forbearing and understanding. And as time went on, that understanding only seemed to grow as they continued sharing their mutual affinity for physics, astronomy, cryptozoology and more, to the point that something of a loose, compliant colleagueship began to form, one that, in time, eventually became a full-fledged friendship.
With such trust and companionship existing between Ford and the Gems, it didnât take long for Rose to begin opening up on their end of things. For much like all of the other strange facets of Gravity Falls, the Crystal Gems were something of an anomaly in and of themselves, and the more Ford learned of their origins and their abilities, the more amazed he was. By far, the most incredible thing about them was the fact that they were actually essentially extraterrestrials, with origins going back to a mysterious planet called Homeworld, a place that none of them spoke too fondly of. The young researcher quickly discovered the reasoning behind this disdain upon learning the largely unknown history of the ancient war the Crystal Gems had fought against their home planet for the safety and freedom of the Earth, a battle long fought and hard won, but won nonetheless. Of course, history wasnât all the Gems told Ford about; their biology was quite amazing, with regenerative properties and internal sustainability that set them quite apart from humans. Rose eagerly introduced the young researcher to a plethora of Gem-related concepts, from their shapeshifting abilities, to their weapon summoning, to their unique capacity to combine their forms in a process referred to as fusion, so even the various magical pocket dimensions contained within their illustrious temple. By and large, Ford found these discoveries to be some of the most fascinating ones heâd made during his time in Gravity Falls, and he readily documented everything he could concerning the Crystal Gems across all three of his journals.
Overall, Ford found the Gemsâ help to be invaluable to his research, and their companionship to be more than he could have ever asked for. Amongst Garnetâs confidence, Amethystâs playfulness, Pearlâs zeal, and Roseâs kindness, the young researcher realized he was in a place and position that made him happier than he could really ever recall being. After a whole life of what felt like unsteadiness and uncertainty, he had finally dug his roots among company that openly and warmly accepted him for who he was. Within the incredible strangeness of Gravity Falls and between the friendship of the equally amazing Crystal Gems, Ford knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was exactly where he belonged.
And yet⊠something was still missing.
Nearly six years and come and gone in a bright rush of new discoveries and exciting experiences since Ford had first arrived in Gravity Falls, but even despite his immense contentment there, several questions still hung at the back of his mind almost continually. Namely, why was Gravity Falls such a hotspot for the strange and the supernatural in the first place? Why did such oddities all seem to congregate to this one geographic place in particular? Where did these anomalies even originate from? And beyond all of that, were the answers to such questions even possible to find at all?
The more Ford pondered these wonderings on his own, the more frustrated he became by his own lack of any concrete answers for them. And so, one day he decided to take them to the Crystal Gems, hoping that, with their lengthy presence in the town, theyâd have some useful insight on the matter.
âWhy is Gravity Falls so strangeâŠ?â Rose repeated Fordâs initial question as she paced around his living room, the researcher and the other Gems all standing by expectantly. âThatâs⊠a very good questionâŠâ
âA⊠question that you have some leads on, perhaps?â Ford ventured with a hopeful smile.
Rose took pause at this, taking a moment to exchange something of a stiff glance with her teammates before responding somewhat sheepishly. âEr⊠not exactlyâŠâ
âWeâve been trying to figure that out for decades now,â Pearl added, crossing her arms. âBut it seems like no matter how hard we look, we never get any closer to finding any actual reasons as to why Gravity Falls is so bizarre compared to any other place on Earth. Itâs been⊠aggravating, to say the least.â
âYou donât think thereâs something you all might have⊠missed in your investigations, do you?â the researcher pressed, driven to get answers, as always.
âNah, weâve looked just about everywhere,â Amethyst remarked as she dropped down from the rafters, one of her favorite places to nap. âWeâre just as stumped as you are, Science Man.â
âPerhaps this is something weâre not meant to know,â Garnet remarked, leaning against the nearby doorframe.
âB-but there has to be a reason!â Ford exclaimed fervently, pulling out his recently completed second journal and flipping through its pages. âAll of this strangeness canât just come from nothing!â
âWell wherever it does come from, we havenât the faintest idea,â Pearl said, shaking her head empathetically. âSorry, Stanford.â
âI canât believe thisâŠâ Ford huffed, frustrated more with himself than he was with any of the Gems. After all, it was hardly their fault that this mysterious seemed so elusive. âSix years and three journals worth of research and Iâm still no closer to finding answers than when I started! How is it so hard to figure out? How are all of these anomalies connected? And why here, of all places?!â
âItâs nothing to feel bad about, Stanford,â Rose interjected, placing a steadying hand on her partnerâs shoulder as she offered him a small, reassuring smile. âAfter all, weâve already discovered so many incredible, wonderful things here, and thatâs something we should be proud of. Something that you should be proud of. And who knows? Iâm sure if we keep looking, then one day weâll find those answers youâre looking for. Together.â
Ford let out something of a disappointed sigh at this, but he found he was unable to remain upset for too long upon meeting the pink Gemâs warm, comforting smile. One that he only halfheartedly returned as he readjusted his lab coat with a hint of renewed resolve. âHm, yes, well,â the researcher nodded staunchly. âIn the meantime, I think what I need is to clear my head for a bit. A short walk in the woods might do me some goodâŠâ
âOh, would you like us to go with you?â Rose asked with a willing smile.
âNormally I would,â Ford partially returned her grin as he escorted the Gems out. âBut I think Iâll be fine on my own. And of course, if I manage to happen upon anything new out there, then youâll be the first to know.â
Rose beamed at this, nodded in warm acceptance as the other Gems began the trek back up to the temple. Before she joined them, however, she stopped short, turning to Ford one more time as her expression turned a bit more sincere. âI meant what I said, Stanford,â she said, firmly, yet kindly. âI know you have what it takes to figure this out. It may seem impossible now, but Iâve seen humans overcome impossible odds before. And if thereâs anyone whoâs capable of doing just that, itâs you.â
Ford finally smiled fully at this, his spirits lifted by the pink Gemâs clear confidence in him, as often was the case. While still worried about his chances in solving Gravity Fallsâ greatest secrets, at the very least, he could trust that heâd have her help in every step of the way. Which was why he fully meant what he said as he turned to head off into the woods before him, where one of his most life-changing discoveries yet was about to be found. âThank you, Rose.â
The Gems were rather confused by Ford calling them down to his house for a very early meeting the next day, but immediately upon arriving, they could tell he was beside himself with excitement as he rushed about, preparing everything necessary before he began. And when he did, he started off with an elated announcement that he had, through what he only described as âdivine interventionâ, at last come across a lead as to how they might uncover the truth behind Gravity Fallsâ strange properties. The Gems listened intently as the researcher presented his theory that the anomalies the town was so highly populated with came not from Gravity Falls itself, or even from their own dimension itself; but rather, they came from some other plane of existence, a dimension of weirdness that had somehow torn into Gravity Falls and leaked its strange anomalies into the town itself. Ford purposed that the only way to truly understand the connection between these two dimensions was to access this strangeness at its source: by constructing a machine, a portal namely, that could serve as a gateway to this world of weirdness that it all seemed to come from. And fortunately, the researcher had happened to come up with blueprints for such a machine, apparently all on his own.
Upon hearing all this, the Gems were somewhat skeptical to say the least. The vast majority of the explanation went over Amethystâs head, while Pearl wondered if such a massive endeavor would even be feasible at all. Garnet admitted that her future vision gave her no clear answers as to what might happen if they went through with this project, and even Rose seemed somewhat hesitant, voicing her concern over what might happen if the Earth tried to connect itself to some distant, unknown world, much like what Homeworld had tried to do to it centuries ago. Ford was quick to placate her worries, however, by assuring her that this was vastly different from the now-defunct galaxy warp she had shown him on multiple occasions. And with this assurance and the trust Rose placed in it, she soon readily jumped on board, the other Gems following suit as they agreed to assist Ford with this project in any way they could, all in the hopes that theyâd finally uncover the truth they had so long been searching for.
Of course, even in the midst of planning, the intrepid group was quick to realize just how arduous of a task this was going to be. They would require rare, fortified materials, ones that were not commonly purchased, and even they were, theyâd be more than Ford could reasonably buy with what was left of his grant money. And while the Gems presented a suitable solution to that problem, there was still the issue of engineering. Pearl was rather well versed in the subject, but not necessarily to the extent that the portal would require, and Ford found himself falling short in the field himself, even despite his extensive studies in other sciences. Fortunately though, the researcher knew exactly who to recruit for the task: a former classmate and close friend he had made during his time at Backupsmore, Fiddleford McGucket.
Despite his obvious rural southern upbringing, Fiddleford was, by all accounts, completely brilliant when it came to engineering and mechanics. After graduation, Ford had remained in touch with him, and had learned that he had moved to California with his longtime sweetheart, settling down in Palo Alto to raise a young son in a nice home. Of course, Ford questioned his friendâs apparent dream of starting a portal personal computer company, believing that such an invention would certainly never catch on and that Fiddleford was largely wasting his impressive talents. But all the same, he was delighted to hear the mechanicâs solid agreement to journey up to Gravity Falls for a time to assist in the portalâs construction, ready to lend his skills to the effort wherever needed.
However, what Ford hadnât made Fiddleford aware of prior to his arrival in Gravity Falls, was that they wouldnât be alone in working on the project. The mechanic was somewhat caught off guard by the Gems at first, who welcomed him warmly as soon as they heard he was a friend of Fordâs. But as overwhelmed as he initially was, Fiddleford soon enough formed a loose camaraderie with the four of them, nothing as close as what Ford had with them, but still it was a mutually working relationship nonetheless. The researcher noticed that he worked well with Pearl in particular, the two of them passionate for their engineering craft as they collaborated on fixing up the final touches on the blueprints for the portal. And, once they had gathered the necessary supplies and everything was checked and double checked and even triple checked, the construction for the machine finally commenced.
They had decided to build it right underneath Fordâs house, in a deep, almost cavernous basement lab the Gems helped him dig out even prior to Fiddlefordïżœïżœïżœs arrival, in preparation for this project. It was a spacious place, one that gave them more than enough seclusion to work on the portal unfettered by any external forces. The Gemsâ physical strength was a massive asset in the physical labor of the construction, to the point that they even sometimes utilized fusions to get the bigger jobs done. Many a sleepless night was spent putting it together, the blueprints serving as their guide for what they were optimistic, almost certain even, would be their key to a world unknown. A world that certainly must have been filled with endless discoveries and possibilities just waiting to be found.
But in reality, it would be the key to a world that was anything but that.
After almost a year of tireless work and seemingly endless preparations, the portal was finally complete and functional. Of course, before anyone even thought of venturing through it to see what lay beyond its wall of radiantly glowing energy, it would need to be tested extensively to ensure everything was in safe, working order. And, despite some whispers of worries and concerns going in, the collective group met in the portal room one night, prepared to do just that.
They had wisely decided to send a dummy into the portal first, one that was tethered to their reality by a rope in the event that they could pull it back over as needed. The Gems hung close by as the portal roared to life, the mock representations of their gemstones glowing upon it as proof of their hand in its creation. At the same time, Ford and Fiddleford approached the safety line before the machine, a dummy held between them as they prepared to toss it in. There was an admirable amount of tension hanging within the room, tension that had been accumulating amongst the group for quite some time as a result of a number of current, alarming events. The one who was by far the most vocal about his anxieties concerning the project was Fiddleford, to the point that his ongoing pessimism and doubts had partially passed onto the Gems as well. Ford couldnât help but be somewhat frustrated with their lack of resolve, including Roseâs as she had pulled him aside only a few hours prior and asked him if he was entirely certain he wanted to go through with this, a look of obvious dread on her expression clear. Of course, the researcher had quickly pushed her worries aside, assuring her that everything would go exactly according to plan and he meant it. He had come to far to back down now, when the answers he had searched so long for where finally within his reach. He wasnât about to give up the chance to achieve greatness beyond his wildest dreams just because of a few unfounded fears and superstitions. He was a scientist; and after tonight, heâd be a great one.
And so, without any further deliberations, Ford and Fiddleford let the dummy go, the portalâs artificial gravity field pulling it forward towards its central glow. However, what none of them had anticipated was that the rope tying the dummy down would accidentally end up wrapping itself around Fiddlefordâs leg just as the dummy glided towards it. The mechanic let out a fearful cry as he lurched forward as well, one that startled Ford and the Gems as they rushed to try and rescue the now airborne Fiddleford.
âWait!â Ford exclaimed to the Gems as he tightly gripped the rope, noticing that they were all running forward towards the portal to try and save Fiddleford, who was now partially within the portal itself. âStay back, its too dangerous!â
âFor you, maybe!â Pearl retorted hotly, knowing that they couldnât just leave the mechanic to his doom.
âBut not for us!â Rose finished boldly, instructing her other teammates with a nod. Garnet, Pearl, and Amethyst rushed to grab the remainder of the rope behind Ford, all four of them giving it a mighty pull.
âW-we got you, buddy!â Ford shouted to Fiddleford, whose limbs were flailing wildly as his head remained on the other side of the portal. Fortunately, with the Gemsâ help, he was able to swiftly yank the mechanic out of the machine and back into their dimension. As he began to fall back to the ground, Rose readily jumped to catch him, securely doing so before landing near the others and gently putting Fiddleford down. Ford and the other Gems were quick to group around him, though Rose held up a hand to stop them, her eyes already wet with healing tears in case they were needed.
âGive him some space,â she advised calmly, nodding down to the clearly shell-shocked mechanic sprawled across her lap. His eyes were huge, his pupils absolutely dilated as he seemed to stare up at nothing at all amidst his frantic, hurried breathing, near-constant trembling, and frantic, full-body twitching. While initially quite concerned for his friendâs wellbeing, Ford quickly got to the point that he was unable to contain his curiosity about what lay on the other side of the portal as he inched forward a bit, leaning down next to Fiddleford as he took his hand tightly.
âWhat is it? Is it working?â he pressed anxiously, ignoring the mechanicâs ongoing panic attack. âWhat did you see in there?!â
Fiddleford flinched at this, his twitching growing wildly out of control as he finally spoke. However, as he did, his words were a jumbled mess of nonsense that none of them could even hope to decipher: âVOTMZRIG IVSKRX OORY!â
âFiddleford?â Ford asked, his worry returning as he exchanged a confused glance with Rose. However, before of them could try and figure out what was going on, Fiddleford suddenly sat up, his manner stark, almost robotic even as he continued staring forward, his eyes huge as he muttered something that left them all in absolute bewilderment.
âWhen gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with just one eyeâŠâ
âBeast with one eyeâŠ?â Rose repeated, her brow furrowing in worried confusion upon hearing this.
âFiddleford, get ahold of yourself,â Ford urged, placing a steadying hand on his friendâs shoulder. âYouâre not making any sense.â
Fiddleford finally seemed to snap back to his senses at this, though he was hardly at ease as he jerked his shoulder out of Fordâs grip and sent the researcher a bitter glare filled with nothing less than absolute resentment. âThis machine is dangerous,â he said coldly, shuddering as he glanced back towards the portal. âYouâre playinâ with fire here, Stanford. This thing could bring about the end of the world! Destroy it before it destroys us all!â
âD-destroy the world?!â Rose exclaimed, quite alarmed by this as the other Gems let out startled gasps of their own.
âW-whaâI canât destroy this!â Ford countered intently, knowing that Fiddleford had to be mistaken somehow. âItâs my lifeâs work, the key to answering everything!â
âI know what I saw in there!â Fiddleford shouted back as he stood, his hands in tight fists at his sides. âIt was a nightmare, plain nâ simple! I fear weâve unleashed a grave danger on the world. One that Iâd just as soon forget. I quit! And Iâd urge you ladies to do the same.â
And with that, the mechanic promptly turned and left, sparing not a single word to his former friend as he went to put as much distance between himself and this failure of a project as possible. For a moment, the most Ford could do was sit there, completely baffled by Fiddlefordâs staunch departure, anger and betrayal building up within him until he happened to glance over and make eye contact with the Gems. All four of them were looking to him in apt shock, the slightest hints of suspicion and wariness filling their expressions as a beat of tense silence lingered before Rose finally spoke up.
âS-StanfordâŠâ she began apprehensively, the portal casting looming shadows over her as she stood. âWhat did he mean when he said this machine could destroy the world?â
âR-Rose, IâŠ. I donâtâŠâ Ford trailed off, his manner somewhat shaken himself as he looked back to the portal. âF-Fiddleford didnât know what he was talking about. After all, you know how anxious he can be.â
âThat didnât sound like mere anxiety,â Garnet remarked, her tone rather cold. âThat sounded like fear.â
âWhat is on the other side of that portal, Ford?â Rose asked, not harshly, but very seriously all the same. âWhat did Fiddleford see in there that made him react like⊠like that?â
âI⊠it⊠i-itâs exactly what I said it would be!â Ford protested as he also stood, growing frustrated with Roseâs apparent doubt. âItâs the dimension where all of the anomalies here in Gravity Falls comes from!â
âBut how do you know that for sure?â Pearl asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow. âWhat did you really have us build down here, Stanford? A portal to another dimension? Or something far more sinister?â
âOh youâve got to be kidding me!?â Ford huffed angrily. âThe five of us have been working together for years now! How could you possibly think Iâd ever even entertain the thought of building something thatâs a detriment to mankind!? This portal is to provide humanity with answers, not senselessly destroy it!â
âStanfordâŠâ Rose bowed her head somewhat, to the point that the shadows practically concealed her eyes altogether. âGarnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and I have been protecting humanity for centuries. I started an entire war just to protect it from our own kind. Nothing matters more to me than keeping this planet and everything on it safe. I want to believe that what we built together can benefit humanity just as much as you do⊠but if its true, if this machine really does have the potential to destroy this planet⊠then we have no choice. You have to destroy it, just as Fiddleford said.â
âB-but⊠but IâŠâ Ford took in a sharp break, his hands curling into tight fists as he took in everything the pink Gem had just said to him. He could scarcely believe that Rose, of all people, was standing before him, telling him to abandon his quest for the truth for the sake of nothing more than tawdry safety. Which was why he needed to make her see reason, even where Fiddleford hadnât. âN-no. He was wrong. This portal isnât dangerous! Itâs a tool to gain knowledge, not a weapon of mass destruction, I know it!â
âAre you sure, Ford?â the pink Gem asked as her teammates gathered close to her, unanimously looking to the researcher with growing distrust. âCan you look me in the eyes and tell me that this machine can be used for good? That it wonât cause the kind of destruction and devastation that could potentially wipe everything on this planet out? If you can honestly stand there and tell me that, then Iâll believe you.â
Ford was prepared to do just that, though as he did, he couldnât help but hesitate as he looked past Rose and to the portal instead. And as he did, he was unable to deny the small burst of worry growing inside of him that perhaps Fiddleford had been right, that the portalâs purpose wasnât as pure or altruistic as he had been led to believe. It was a preposterous thought, for sure, but even so, his obviously uncertain silence told Rose everything she needed to know.
ââŠRightâŠâ she sighed sadly, glancing down morosely to avoid eye contact with the researcher. Her voice was soft, almost pained even as she shook her head before finally looking to Ford, grief-filled tears welling up in her eyes as the other Gems pressed even closer to her. âThen weâre done here.â
âW-what?â Ford asked, caught off guard.
âI said, weâre done,â Roseâs tone was a bit firmer now, as was her expression. âWeâre not going to lend our help to something that could very well end up destroying this planet, a planet we fought so hard for and lost so much to protect. So that leaves us no choice but to cut our ties from this⊠a-and⊠and from youâŠâ
The most Ford could do upon hearing this was shake his head, sudden grief overwhelming him as he realized exactly what he was losing here. Not only were the Gems leaving, but they were taking their help, their knowledge, their friendship with them. Friendship that he had come to value so highly and would be completely lost without. âR-Rose, no⊠y-youâŠâ
âLetâs go, Gems,â Rose said simply, nodding for her teammates to leave. They did so, each of them sending Ford a rather unsavory, disdainful look as they did, all three of them quite upset with him for the kind of damage his machine stood to cause and how they had been dragged into helping create such a disaster in the first place. The pink Gem was the last to leave, though she did happen to linger near the door to the lab for a moment, letting out a dejected sigh as she briefly glanced back to the distraught researcher behind her. âIâm sorry, Stanford, but⊠this is just how it has to be. But⊠I do hope that all of this doesnât turn out as badly as I think it might⊠And perhaps if it doesnât⊠then we can start things fresh and new. But until then⊠this is goodbyeâŠâ
Without another word, the pink Gem departed, leaving Ford completely alone with his machine and nothing else. He couldnât even think of anything to say to try and stop Rose as she left, torn amidst his palpable despair and his growing anger. And, soon enough, that anger at the thought of being abandoned by those closest to him, those who refused to share the same glorious vision as he did, those who only wanted to hold him back, just like everyone else in his life, completely took over. âF-Fine!â Ford shouted hotly, even though Rose had already left. âIâll do it without you! I donât need you, or the other Gems, or Fiddleford! I donât need anyone!â
Almost as soon as the researcher had made this fierce proclamation, however, Fordâs intense manner quickly snapped the moment he heard a soft, almost indiscernible whisper come from seemingly nowhere. âW-what?â he asked, glancing around for anyone else only to find that he was the only one in the lofty room. âW-whoâs there? Who said that?â Of course, he received no answer, the whispers only multiplying and growing in intensity, though he couldnât make out a single word of what they were saying. And yet⊠by their tones, in a strange way, it almost seemed as though they were⊠mocking him. Laughing over a victory he had no clue about. Alarmed, Ford stumbled back into the far wall of the room, a hand placed against his head as he tried his best to quiet these almost deafening whispers, though to no avail.
In fact, if anything, the whispers only seemed to intensify in the following weeks, and they were far from the only thing the researcher had to deal with. His nightmares were abundant, his thoughts plagued by doubt, guilt, and terror of an unseen evil. He couldnât so much as even look at the portal without recalling Fiddlefordâs panic-stricken words or Roseâs intent, firm warnings. Warnings that he feared he had failed to listen to and now it was far too late. For as time continued slipping by, so too did Fordâs own sanity begin to slip, leaving way for intensive paranoia and practically soul-crushing dread. With the Gems and Fiddleford no longer around to keep him anchored and active, the researcher fell into a deep seclusion, desperately pouring over his notes all hours of the day and night to try and find a solution to the problem he had caused. He had abandoned the thought of sleep entirely, knowing that he couldnât risk wasting even a single second, lest he leave himself vulnerable to the forces of darkness lurking all around him. The notes in the remaining pages of his third journal became frantic, sloppily written and completely telling of the deep fear of the man writing every single word of desperate warning and unending regret. By all accounts, he felt trapped, lost in a sea of anxiety, remorse, terror, and confusion that he was powerless to escape from. And yet, in the din of his growing mania, Ford did manage to reach one clear conclusion: that in light of the clear and proven danger that it could bring about, the portal could no longer remain operational. Even despite all of the time and work and effort that had gone into it, none of that mattered for the sake of protecting the world, just as Rose had said. Which was why Ford readily dedicated himself to undoing his grave mistake, his pride and passion all but forgotten in place of an overwhelming desire to set things right.
The researcher knew that the first and most essential step to doing so would be to separate his journals; the trio of books held not just the portalâs blueprints, but also instructions on how to get it running. Kept together, they could easily fall into the wrong hands and ensure global destruction. And so Ford hid his second journal away on his own accord, out near the local elementary school, where he assumed no child would ever be clever enough to find it and dig it up. For his first and third, journals, however, the researcher wanted to be completely unaware of their whereabouts, knowing that it would be impossible for someone to amass their locations from him if he was ever put in such a forced position. Ford knew that his research should be left in the hands of two individuals he trusted above all else; though giving his rapidly increasing paranoia, such trust was hard to find. However, he did manage to eventually come up with the only two people he could turn to amidst all this upheaval, two people that he could only hope with every fiber of his being would not fail him now.
Winters in Gravity Falls were known for being absolutely brutal and this one was no exception. The brisk, frigid, snow-filled air left Ford in quite a shock as he ventured out into it, making the relatively short trek up the hill towards the Crystal Temple. It was a voyage he had made more times than he could even count, but something about this trip up there felt so incredibly different than any other he had made before. Perhaps it was the unbearable wintry chill, perhaps it was journal 3 tucked securely into his coat, or perhaps it was his own growing dread and fear, but Ford could feel a sense of finality with every step that he took up to the temple. Even as he came to stand before its sparkling gate, he found his hand hesitating to knock upon it, knowing that doing so would, in many ways, be an admittance of defeat. The confession that he hadnât been able to solve this problem on his own, that he needed outside help, that he had to trust someone as opposed to trusting no one. And yet, for as much as he hated that vulnerable, constricting feeling, Ford knew he had no other choice. So he knocked.
As he had hoped, Roseâs specific door slid open smoothly, the pink Gem standing in the frame of the gate as she looked down to the researcher, clearly perplexed by his unexpected visit. Ever since the disastrous portal incident, the two of them had only seen each other a handful of times, chance encounters ranging from rather awkward to tension-filled. In each of them, Rose had noticed how Fordâs mental state was steadily falling apart at the seams, and despite her cutting her ties with him before, she had made the selfless offer to try and help him, an offer that had always been bitterly rejected. In light of everything that had happened even the researcherâs once strong trust in the pink Gem had eroded away as he blamed her for not knowing of the true dangers that lurked within the town she had called home for much longer than he had. Dangers that, had he been warned of in a more timely manner, would have perhaps been foiled and evaded altogether.
Still, it was too late to change the past now, something that Ford knew all too well as he stood before Rose, who was still admittedly quite confused even as she addressed him. âStanfordâŠâ she said, her voice soft and sad. âW-what⊠what are you doing here?â
Ford took in a deep breath to steady himself, deciding to get right to the point as he pulled journal 3 out of his coat. âI need your help,â he said, presenting the book to the pink Gem. âThereâs not much time left and I have to get rid of this in a secure way before its too late. Iâve already hidden the second one a-and I have someone coming to take the first one away. And so⊠I was hoping that you would take the third oneâŠâ
âWhy?â Rose asked, her expression unreadable as she looked between the researcher and his journal.
âKeeping them together is far too much of a risk,â Ford said rather matter-of-factly. âIf someone were to find the portalâs blueprints contained within them, then the entire universe could-â
âI know why we need to separate the journals, Ford,â the pink Gem interjected. âWhat I meant was why do you want me to take one of them?â
Because I trust you was what Ford wanted to say, but of course, his pride wouldnât let him. So instead, he went with the easier option. âBecause you have the resources to properly protect it, o-of course.â
ââŠRightâŠâ Rose sighed, her already saddened expression growing even moreso as she took the journal out of Fordâs hands. âIn that case⊠I⊠Iâll find someplace for it⊠A place where it will be safe from⊠f-from him⊠and from anyone else who might want it for the wrong reasonsâŠâ
The researcher only nodded at this, far too burdened by so many thoughts at once to think of much else to even say to the pink Gem at this point. But that didnât mean she didnât have anything to say to him. âStanford, IâŠâ she hesitated, pulling the third journal close to her before she continued on a different tangent entirely. âI-if you donât mind telling me, what are you planning on doing next?â
Ford sighed, shaking his head in slight shame as he turned away from her. âAfter the first journal is safely taken care of, Iâll be making a trip to the caves where I first happened upon the knowledge of⊠of you know who⊠Hopefully something there will be able to give me an idea of how to vanquish him from our world, once and for all.â
âT-then let me go with you,â Rose insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder. âIâm sure that together, we can-â
âNo,â the researcher remarked coldly as he pulled away. âThis is my mistake. I need to be the one to fix it.â
âBut you donât have to do that on your own!â the pink Gem urged earnestly. âI can help you, Stanford, I want to help you! Youâre forgetting that I care about keeping this world safe just as much as you do, especially from someone as dangerous and demented as him. But I canât do that unless you let me in again, please. We used to be such close partners. Such close friends⊠Iâve lost so many humans Iâve cared so much about in the past⊠I donât want to lose you tooâŠâ
âRoseâŠâ Ford began, finally glancing back to look at her and meeting her pained expression with one of his own. As much as he wanted to take up her offer for solidarity and support, he knew that he couldnât. Largely because he knew her kindness and caring were things that he just didnât deserve anymore. âI⊠I have to go it alone. I just⊠i-itâs the only wayâŠâ
The pink Gem moved to protest this decision, but for whatever reason, she held herself back, instead opting to glance down morosely, tears nearly welling up in her eyes but still not falling. âWell then⊠at least⊠be careful out thereâŠâ Ford nodded once again to this, making no promises, for he wasnât sure exactly what he was about to face, though he resolved himself to be ready for it nonetheless, no matter what might happen. However, before he could depart, Rose stopped him one last time, a few of her pressing tears finally falling as her long pink curls were gently tossed by the winter winds rather solemnly. âStanfordâŠâ she began despondently, her tone and expression creating a tight, almost unbearable pit inside of his heart as he listened to her fretful farewell. ââŠIâm sorry⊠for everythingâŠâ
The researcherâs shoulders hitched upon hearing this, and it took everything in him to not turn around at face the pink Gem and return her sad, sincere words in full. But once again, what little logic he felt like he had left overruled his emotions, to the point that he simply left her in silence, knowing that nothing he could say could ever hope to undo all that had gone wrong between them. Still, as lost and hopeless as he continually felt, a part of him hoped that someday heâd have the the chance to truly make things right with her once and for all, a chance to show her just how much he appreciated her, a chance to fix what had been broken.
A chance that, unbeknownst to him, he would never get to have.
New Mexico, 1982
In all the ways Stan had expected his life to go, this wasnât exactly anything close to what he had been hoping for. The past several years had been a rough, wild string of scams, arrests, escapes, and almost countless near-death experiences. All of his plans to make a fortune for himself had failed completely, sometimes in quite disastrous ways, to the point that Stan had eventually given up on them entirely simply for the sake of surviving. Whatever necessities he had he usually acquired by stealing them, giving him experience enough that he had practically mastered the craft of thievery, among several other illegal acts. Of course, it didnât help that he had more than his fair share of dangerous foes and rivals who wanted to do him in as a result of him either fooling them, robbing them, or giving them the slip. Still, with so many hungry for his demise and so few willing to help him out or take him in, Stan found himself quickly running out of options as well as out of hope that things would really ever get better. After all, he had been on his own in a constant state of âin betweensâ for an entire decade now and despite all of his tireless efforts to make something of himself, it seemed like he never made any hint of progress a life that wasnât completely in shambles. There had been the occasional moment where he wondered whether or not all of his struggling to simply get by was even worth it, if there really was ever a chance, no matter how slim that he could one day rise up from the rock bottom he seemed so deeply rooted in. And while some small voice inside his head often told him to give up on it all in those moments, another part of him, one that sounded suspiciously like a certain twin brother of his, urged him to keep on going, to hold onto his long-lasting stubborn nature and fight his way through the trials life threw at him, no matter how hard it might be.
And so he did.
Though really, Stan wasnât sure exactly how much longer he could hold out as he sat alone in the cramped, filthy, bug-infested motel room he had somehow scrounged up enough money to afford for the night. Anything was better than sleeping in his car after all, and it also made him a little less vulnerable to all of the thugs who wanted his head. Still, that didnât mean he was able to suppress a frightened flinch as a sudden knock sounded on the door of the room, a knock that prompted him to quickly grab his baseball bat before he even thought of going to answer it.
âJ-just give me a few more days, Rico!â Stan shouted, knowing that the aforementioned cartel boss was his most recent and most dangerous foe at the moment. âIâll pay your goons back, I swear!â
Fortunately, on the other side of the door wasnât any murderous mafia member or belligerent brute, but rather only a mailman, who stopped by just long enough to slip a postcard through the door slot before going on his way. Of course, Stan was rather surprised by this as well, especially since he couldnât recall the last time he had gotten any mail from anyone, especially such an odd looking postcard from some place he had never heard of called Gravity Falls. But as he turned it over, he was quickly met with a message that shocked him more than almost anything he had seen in his travels thus far:
âPLEASE COME!â â FORD
Needless to say that upon seeing such an urgent plea from his brother of all people, Stan was completely floored. Ford hadnât tried to get in contact with him even once since he had been kicked out by their father years ago, yet all of the sudden, he was reaching out to him, seemingly out of nowhere with such a terse, mysterious request to make such a long journey out to see him? Stan could scarcely believe it and even beyond that disbelief he could hardly be happy about it. After all, Ford had just as much of the blame for the disaster his life had become as anyone else, maybe even moreso given that he could have at the very least stuck with him as opposed to leaving him lost and alone for his own selfish purposes. A yearsâ old anger burned within Stanâs gut as he thought about his brotherâs callous betrayal, and it was almost enough to get him to crumble up the postcard and throw it in the trash without a second thought. And yet⊠he couldnât deny that he was also curious. Ford must have requested him to come for a reason, one that he hadnât the faintest clue about but wanted to know nonetheless. And as much as he knew he shouldnât even give his brother the time of day after what he had done a decade ago, Stan ultimately knew that he couldnât stay away.
And so with nowhere else to really go, Stan figured he might as well at least go check things out on Fordâs end. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
The drive from New Mexico to Oregon was a long, boring one, but Stan made reasonably good time, only taking stops to siphon gas from other cars at the occasional fuel station or raid an unattended check-out counter for snacks. And soon enough, he reached the backwoods town of Gravity Falls, which was completely buried by snow, much to Stanâs immense aggravation as he made it there with only a light, soiled jacket to keep him warm. All the same, the cold didnât bother him as much as his growing dread did as he approached Fordâs door, knowing well that this meeting could be the second chance between them that he had always secretly hoped for. Either that, or it would serve to tear them apart even more than time and distance alone already had.
âAlright, Stan,â he said to himself, trying to instill as much confidence as he could as his hand hung over the door, ready to knock. âYou havenât seen your brother in over ten years. But its ok. Heâs family. He wonât bite.â
With this final self-assurance, Stan knocked on the door, only for it to partially swing open seconds later, revealing a crossbow-wielding Ford behind it. âWho is it?!â he demanded sharply, his exhaustion-marred face awash in paranoia and anxiety as he aimed his weapon directly at his startled brother. âHave you come to steal my eyes?!â
Stan hesitated before saying anything as he leaned away from the tip of the arrow being pointed at him, knowing that for all of the possible greetings he had been expecting from Ford, this had not been one of them. âWell, nice to know I can always come to you for a warm welcome,â he remarked, not really knowing how else to start but with dry sarcasm as he raised an eyebrow at his brother.
âStanley,â Ford sighed in slight relief as he lowed his crossbow a bit, though he still kept a firm grip on it nonetheless. âDid anyone follow you? Anyone at all?â
âYeesh, no,â Stan scoffed, rolling his eyes. âBy the way, hello to you too, palâwhoa!â
Quite unexpectedly, Ford pulled him inside the house, slamming the door shut behind them and locking it tight before pulling a flashlight out and shining it directly in his brotherâs eyes. âAh! Hey!â Stan protested, pushing Ford away from him as he blinked the painful light out. âWhatâs the big idea here, poindexter?!â
âS-sorry, I just had to make sure you werenâtâŠâ Ford trailed off, a brief look of fear flashing over his features before he quickly shook it out of his head. âUh⊠i-itâs nothing. Come in, come in,â he motioned to the next room, swiftly walking into it as Stan followed, quite confused about his brotherâs apparently frantic manner.
âUh, you gonna explain whatâs going on here?â he asked with something of a worried frown. âYouâre acting like Mom after her tenth cup of coffee.â
âListen,â Ford spun around intently, gripping a burgundy book with a golden six fingered hand on its cover tightly. âThere isnât much time. Iâve made huge mistakes and I donât know who I can trust anymore. What Iâve done could end up putting the entire universe at jeopardy and for all I know it might be too late to stop even that.â
Stan paused upon hearing this, his concern turning into surprise as he looked at his distraught brother with wide eyes. While he had no real clue about what Ford was talking about, he still acted against his better judgement and placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping that he could offer him some kind of much-needed emotional support. âHey, uh, easy there. Letâs talk this through, ok?â
Ford shook his head bitterly, almost smiling sardonically though not quite. âIâm afraid this isnât something that can simply be âtalked throughâ, Stanley⊠Instead⊠I have something to show you. Something that you wonât believe.â
âLook, Iâve been around the world, ok?â Stan remarked dryly. âIâve seen more crazy shit in my time than you probably have sitting here in this comfy cabin of yours. Whatever it is, Iâll understand.â
âThere is nothing about this I understand,â Stan said stiffly as him and Ford stood in the shadow of the massive machine in the basement. By all accounts it looked like something out of a bizarre sci-fi dream, with its incredible metallic structure and the arrangement of various gemstones fixated to its edges. Fortunately though, despite Stanâs absolute bewilderment by it, Ford was quick to explain.
âItâs a trans-universal gateway,â he began, sending the portal something of a bitter glare in light of all it had helped take from him. âA punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe, but it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. Thatâs why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explained how to operate it. Thereâs only one journal left, and you are the only person I can trust to take it, Stanley.â With this, the researcher handed his first and final journal off to his brother, his expression deeply sincere, pleading almost as he continued. âI have something to ask of you. Remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?â Stan couldnât help but smile, hope filling his expression and his heart for the first time in years at the mention of the mention of his long-lost childhood dream. A dream that Ford was all too quick to shoot right to the ground once more. âTake this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as you can!â he demanded urgently. âTo the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!â
For a moment, Stan was completely dumbfounded, especially as Ford turned away and stepped towards the portal without sparing him another word. But after his initial shock wore of, absolute rage replaced it instead, because how dare Ford tell him to come all the way up here just to take some dumb book and hide it far away, how dare Ford hardly even consider the possibility that they could use this chance meeting to reconcile again after all these years, how dare Ford get his hopes up for them being actual brothers again, only to dash them all so openly and so completely. âT-Thatâs it?â Stan spat harshly, glaring at his brother in absolute disbelief. âYou finally wanna see me after ten years and its to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?!â
âStanley, you donât understand what Iâm up against,â Ford rationalized frenetically. âWhat Iâve been through!â
âNo, you donât understand what Iâve been through!â Stan countered fiercely. âIâve been to prison in three different countries! I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car! You think youâve got problems?! Iâve got a mullet, Stanford! Meanwhile, where have you been? Livinâ it up in your fancy house in the woods and selfishly hoarding your college money because you only care about your damn self.â
âIâm selfish?â Ford scoffed, completely appalled at such an accusation. âIâm selfish, Stanley?! How can you say that after you cost me my dream school!? Iâm giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your entire life and you wonât even listen!â
âWell, you listen to this: you want me to get rid of this dumb book so badly? Fine,â Stan growled, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and striking it as he held the flame right underneath journal 1. âIâll get rid of it right now!â
âNo!â Ford gasped, launching forward in an attempt to grab the book out of Stanâs hands before it could catch fire. âYou donât understand!â
âYou said you wanted me to have it, so Iâll do whatever the hell I want with it!â Stan contested, yanking the journal back from him, even as Ford continued to struggle desperately for it.
âMy research!â Ford cried just as the fire started to hit the journal. Unable to bear the sight of everything he had worked so hard for go up in flames, he did the only thing he could think of. In a fit of building panic that finally rushed to the surface at that moment, Ford pounced at Stan, who easily tripped his much less physically adept brother up before taking the journal and running back towards the nearby lab with Ford in hot pursuit. âStanley! Give it back!â
âYou want it back?!â Stan snapped as Ford roughly shoved him against the portalâs control panel. âYouâre gonna have to try harder than that!â Of course, what neither of them noticed as they continued their heated physical struggle was that, in their carelessness, they had slammed against several of the key buttons that activated the portal, and in the midst of their furious fighting, they hardly even noticed as it began to roar to life in the other room. âYou left me behind, you jerk!â Stan shouted as he pulled his hardest against the journal. âIt was supposed to be us forever! But then you went and ruined my life!â
âYou ruined your own life!â Ford shot back, acting on impulse alone as he kicked Stan squarely in the chest. It was enough to get his hands off the journal for sure, but it also inadvertently ended up knocking Stan right into the portalâs operating console. Or rather, the glowing, red hot symbol emblazoned on its side.
Stan let out a sharp howl of agony as his back slammed into the mark, which burned him instantly upon contact and branded itself heavily upon his skin. The pain felt so intense that it was practically white hot as Stan collapsed to the ground, anguished tears pricking in his eyes though he refused to let them fall amidst his continued outrage. All the same, Ford could only watch in newfound shock as his brother writhed in pain on the ground before him, knowing that he was completely responsible for this horrific accident. âStanley!â he cried fearfully, unsure of what to even to do help him. âOh my gosh! I-Iâm so sorry! Are you alri-â
Ford was abruptly cut off by a sudden left hook as Stan jumped upward, still reeling in pain from the burn on his back, though he hardly let that stop him now. After all, he had been holding back years of frustration and fury towards his brother; as far as he was concerned, there was no better time to let it all out than right there and right now. âSome brother you turned out to be!â Stan growled bitterly as Ford stumbled backwards, tripping over the portal switch, though he was quick to catch himself, ignoring its ever-intensifying glow. âYou care more about your dumb old mysteries than your family? Well then you can have them!â With this outraged proclamation, Stan shoved the journal into Fordâs arms hard, not noticing as he pushed him over the line on the ground before the portal. And sure enough, as soon as the researcher was over it, the portalâs gravitational pull began dragging him up in the air towards it, much to the shared alarm of both brothers. âW-whoa! Hey, whatâs goinâ on?!â Stan exclaimed as he ran forward a bit, especially as Ford let out a terrified cry of distress as he drew ever closer towards the portalâs all-encompassing light.
âS-Stanley!â he shouted, desperately struggling to tether himself back down to the ground and away from the portal, for he now knew exactly where it led. And, considering everything, it was no place that he ever wanted to go to. âStanley, help me!â
âW-what do I do?!â Stan exclaimed, anxiously looking around for any way to stop this amidst his practically paralyzing shock.
âD-Do something!â Ford begged, flailing wildly in the air as his lab coat began to be sucked into the portal behind him, the rest of him quickly going right along with it. Which meant that, even if there was something Stan could do, it would be far too late. âStanely!â he cried, knowing he had only seconds left as he threw the journal as far away from him as he could. âPlease! Tell Rose Quartz Iâm sor-â
The researcher never got to finish this final plea. For in a blinding flash of light, the portal swallowed him completely, whisking him away to whatever nightmares awaited on the other side. The force of this explosion of energy was enough to knock Stan back towards the other and of the room, the journal flying somewhere behind him. And when the light faded and everything had settled, he was able to gather his bearings only enough to notice two things: the portal was shutting itself off upon this great explosion of power.
And his brother was gone.
âS-Stanford?â Stan asked quietly, his entire body trembling from the lingering pain on his back as he slowly picked himself up. Indeed, the only thing of Ford that remained in the room where his glasses, which must have fallen off and landed near the portal in all of the chaos. But all the same, the realization of what had just happened was enough to shake Stan out of his initial shell-shock and right into frantic, distraught action. âStanford! Come back! I-I didnât mean it!â The last of the energy was fading from the portal as Stan reached it switch, and even despite yanking it as hard as he could, the machine remained devoid of any newfound activity. âI just got him back! I canât lose him again!â he cried desperately, doing everything he could to try to get some kind of reaction from the portal, some kind of hope that Ford was still somehow within his reach. âAugh! Come on! Stanford!â
Stan froze as he heard only his own voice echo through the portalâs empty center, which Ford was now completely lost to. And at that moment, the reality of it all came crashing down at him all at once; his brother was gone, and all because of his own frustration and foolishness. For in the thoughtless heat of the moment, he had pushed Ford over that line and into that portal, launching him into whatever unknown, distant dimension it likely led to. Honestly, for all Stan knew, Fordâs life could have ended the moment he passed through the now-defunct machine, a thought that certainly terrified him, but an actual possibility nonetheless.
There was simply no way to know where or how his brother was, which was why the most Stan could really think to do was retrieve journal 1 from the floor and frantically flip through its pages, hoping that it provided some kind of answer. However, he was quick to find that its information was fractured and incomplete, the tail end of the book only referencing that its chronicles were continued in some unknown second journal. A rush of despair filled Stan as he realized he had no idea what to do about any of this, especially with only the scattered bits and pieces of instructions he had at his disposal. Yet he didnât have much of a chance to think about what he could possibly do before the elevator in the lab suddenly burst open, a large, pink-haired woman rushing out of it and running into the portal room with wide eyes of alarm.
âStanford!â she cried, clearly distraught as she came to stand before the portal, not even noticing Stanâs presence as he hung back towards the other end of the room, watching the woman in surprised confusion. âN-no⊠H-he⊠he didnât⊠H-he said he was only going to⊠I didnât think⊠ How could he just⊠leave like this?â
âUhâŠ?â The woman gasped as she overheard Stan behind her, spinning around swiftly to face him. He flinched under the tearful, wide-eyed intensity of her gaze, though the way she spoke his brotherâs name, so softly and so painfully, was what rattled him more than anything else.
âS-Stanford?â she asked, her movements slow and uncertain as she approached him. âWhat⊠w-why do you look so⊠How did youâŠ?â she paused, bewilderment washing over her expression before stark realization and deep suspicion filled it instead. âWait⊠youâre not⊠w-who⊠who are you? And why do you look so much like⊠like him?â
Stan didnât answer right away, mostly since this womanâs sudden appearance and confusing line of questioning had caught completely off guard amidst his still ongoing shock from what had just happened with the portal. Nonetheless, he answered her rather stiffly and awkwardly all the same. âWho, you mean Ford? Uh, thatâs cause Iâm his twin brother: Stanley.â
âT-twin⊠brother?â she asked, apparently baffled by even the idea alone. âStanford never⊠he didnât say anything about having a brotherâŠâ
âUgh, why does that not surprise me?â Stan huffed, a bit of his former bitterness towards Ford returning upon hearing this. âAnd who exactly are you supposed to be, pinky? You canât be his girlfriend; thereâs no chance in hell a nerd like him would ever be able to land a looker like you, so what, are you like his secretary or therapist or something?â
âWhaâno,â the woman shook her head, still clearly confused. âIâm Rose Quartz, leader of the Crystal Gems. My teammates and I are⊠o-or rather⊠we were close friends and research partners with Stanford⊠But nowâŠâ She trailed off as she looked back at the portal before turning back to Stan intently. âPlease, tell me what happened here. Did Ford really just⊠walk into that awful machine willingly?! Even though he knows exactly what and who is waiting on the other side of it?!â
âUh, he didnât just walk into it,â Stan remarked, scratching the back of his neck guiltily. âI sort ofâI-I mean, he kinda⊠fell into it⊠on accident?â
Fortunately, Rose seemed to buy this lie, though all the same, her lovely expression marred with grief and misery it fully hit her that Ford was seemingly lost forever. Tears, ones that were lightly sparkling with what looked like some kind of magic, flowed down her cheeks as she let out a broken, despondent sob. She shook her head sadly as she took a step towards the deactivated portal, looking towards the copy of the gemstone resting over her own navel that was positioned near its base. âT-this is all my faultâŠâ she muttered morosely. âIf only I had shown up sooner⊠I-if only we hadnât built this⊠disaster in the first place, then maybe heâd still be here⊠But I wasnât and we did⊠and now⊠heâs goneâŠâ
âUh⊠look,â Stan said, unable to keep himself from empathizing with the mournful pink Gem as he shared much of her heartbreak himself at the moment, though he didnât let his show as clearly. âI⊠I donât know what things were like between you and my brother, but, uh⊠donât worry. Iâm gonna do everything I can to open this thing back up and get him outta there, not matter how hard it is or how long it might take.â
Rose jolted at this, her tears practically freezing as she looked back to Stan in apt alarm. âW-what?â
âUm⊠I said Iâm gonna figure out a way to get this machine working and bring Ford back,â Stan repeated, rather surprised by her suddenly intense manner. âHe left one of his creepy journals here with me, so I guess all I gotta do is find the other ones and then theyâll tell me how to open that portal thing again and heâll be as good as saved. R-right?â
The pink Gemâs expression was severe as she turned to face him fully, her sadness fading away into authority as she stood, towering over him almost menacingly. âNo,â she said, her gentle tone strangely rigid and harsh. âThis portal is never going to be opened again. Not my you, or by me, or by anybody else.â
âW-well what about Ford?!â Stan snapped in sudden anger and disbelief. âWe canât just leave him on the other side of that thing! I thought you said you were his friend, why wouldnât you wanna help him?!â
âI do want to help him!â Rose retorted earnestly. âMore than anything else! But we canât. This machine is a huge risk to this entire planet! Starting it up again could result in the end of this world, of all worlds! For centuries, Iâve taken up the responsibility to protect the Earth and everything on it and that comes first. Above everything⊠or everyone else.â
âBut thatâs my brother in there!â Stan exclaimed hotly. âHe may be a stubborn know-it-all who left me behind years ago, but heâs still my family! And Iâm not about to walk out on him like he walked out on me; Iâm stayinâ right here and doing everything I can to get that portal up and running again. I donât care how risky it might be or what it might cost, Iâm saving my brother! Whether you or anyone else likes it or not!â
Rose took in a deep, evening breath at this, her manner cold but not hostile as she stared down at Stan intently, firmly asserting her position as intently as she could. âI canâtâI wonât let you do this. If there was any other way to save Stanford then I would take it in an instant. But as it stands, this portal must remain shut down, it not destroyed entirely. And Iâm prepared to do whatever I must to keep it from causing any more harm than it already has.â
âS-so what?â Stan shout back defiantly. âYouâre gonna try and stop me, pinky? Is that how this is gonna be?! What makes you think youâll even be able to keep me from blowing that damn portal wide open, huh?â
âBecause,â Rose said staunchly, calmly even. âI know where the third journal is. Itâs hidden somewhere safe and secure, a place only I know about. And without it, youâll never be able to get this portal running again.â
Stan took pause at this, his jaw dropping in surprise at such a pertinent revelation. Of course, his shock only lasted for a moment before it exploded into desperate fury once again. âY-you have to give me that book!â he shouted almost pleadingly. âItâs the only way Iâll ever be able to save him, please, just-â
âNo,â the pink Gem harshly cut him off. âHe asked me to keep that journal from falling into the wrong hands, and thatâs exactly what I intend on doing. Itâs the least I can do for him after⊠all thisâŠâ
âB-but I need it! You donât understand, I-â
âNo, you donât understand!â Rose interupted intensely. âIâve given up so much to keep this planet safe; I refuse to let it meet its end as long as Iâm around to stop it. This portal is far too dangerous to even exist. It was a mistake to build it. We should have never tried to tamper with forces we didnât understand, but we did. And while its too late to take that back now, its not too late to keep those forces at bay. Even if that means⊠even if that means weâll never see Stanford againâŠâ
By now, Stanâs fists were clenched so tightly at his sides that they were shaking. Still, he kept his violent urges held back against the pink Gem, though he was more than fine with letting his outraged words fly freely. âFine! If you wonât help me, then Iâll figure out a way to do it without those other two stupid journals! You can try to stop me all you want, pinky, but Iâm not giving up until Ford is back here safe and sound, even if it takes the rest of my life! And no one, especially not you, is gonna keep me from bringing my brother back home!â
Rose sighed, clearly exasperated, though for whatever reason, she didnât react in anger as she simply walked past Stan, intending on leaving. âThere really is no changing your mind, is there?â she asked, glancing back over her shoulder at him. âWell, thatâs alright. Go ahead and do whatever you feel like you need to. But you should know that Iâm going to do whatever I have to do to keep that journal away from you, to keep you from reopening this portal, and to keep this planet safe. And⊠Iâm sure that if Stanford was still here⊠heâd do the exact same thing.â
Without another word, the pink Gem left, her resolve every bit as clear as Stanâs as he remained standing before the portal, journal 1 still held tightly in his grasp and guilt still weighing heavy on his heart.
Guilt that would linger over him like a constant shadow for the next thirty years.
The next several weeks went by in a dreary, exhausting blur. Stan spent every waking moment down in that basement lab, pouring over every tiny piece of information journal 1 had to offer on the portal as he tried everything he could to get it up and running again. Unfortunately, even with the notes that he had, his knowledge on any of the technology or science behind the machine was next to none, making things all the more difficult. His nights were sleepless, lost to worries and anxiety and remorse and so many other emotions it was hard to keep track of them all. The one upside to all of this was that he hadnât heard from that pesky Rose Quartz woman since their first encounter, though the thought of her alone was enough to practically enrage him. To think that she had the very information that he needed to reactive the portal and get Ford back, but she refused to relinquish it out of some nonsensical altruistic duty of hers! Certainly, Stan reasoned, that in light of her staunch refusal to so much as even offer a hint of advice in the matter, Rose must not have cared about Ford as much as she claimed to. Then again, Stan hardly felt like he was much better on that front, seeing as how the only reason why Ford was now gone was entirely because of him.
Still, Stan knew that he couldnât give up, no matter how impossible his odds were proving to be. Because giving up meant never seeing his brother again, and despite all of the mistakes they had made and the bad blood between them, that was one thought he simply couldnât bear.
Yet even despite his resolve, as the weeks went by, Stan grew weary. Winter was finally starting to ease up somewhat, but that didnât mean Fordâs house was any less drab and lonely. With most of his time spent working on the portal, Stan didnât really get much of a chance to clean the hectically cluttered place up, though it wasnât like he hadnât lived in squalor before. Rather, what bothered him was that the already rather sparse supply of food in his brotherâs cabinets was starting to run dangerously low. Which meant that Stan really had no other choice: heâd have to make a trip into the nearby town for supplies.
Journal 1 had already made mention of the Crystal Gemsâ temple base just up the hill from Fordâs house, so Stan made sure to steer clear of it as he made his way downtown. Gravity Falls was apparently a rather small community, and he knew well that rumors traveled fast in small towns, much as they had in Glass Shard Beach, which meant that heâd have to keep a low profile, lest anyone become suspicious. While he didnât really have a criminal record in Oregon yet, the last thing he wanted was to be reported to any police and hauled away, leaving the portal forever shut down and Ford forever trapped inside it. No one really seemed to pay him much mind, however, as he arrived at a small convenience store to grab a loaf of bread, the most he believed he could reasonably afford on what little money he had to his name.
âJust the bread then, stranger?â the elderly woman at the counter smiled warmly to him as he put it down. âThatâll be 99 cents.â
Stan simply nodded, reaching into his pocket to find only to find a packet of sugar, a paper clip, and a single peso. Nowhere near enough to buy anything really, much to his disappointment.
âHey, thatâs no stranger!â Stan flinched upon hearing a middle-aged woman behind him speak up. âThat must be the mysterious science guy who lives in the woods!â
âYou mean the one whoâs always hanginâ out with those four magical women?â a widely smiling young teenager asked. âHe almost never comes around here!â
By now, a curious crowd had started to gather around Stan, who simply tried his best to conceal himself by pulling his hood tighter. Clearly, these people were mistaking him for Ford, an idea he really didnât want going around, considering the circumstances. âUh, n-no, no, youâve got the wrong guy,â he shook his head, trying his best to drive the attention away from him, though still the bystanders persisted.
âIâve heard some strange stories about that old shack!â another teenager, and a quite awkward one at that, quipped.
âYeah! Mysterious lights and spooky experiments,â the storeâs young employee regaled, much to the rest of the crowdâs interest.
âThey say it is full of magic and mystery!â a short-statured woman whose hair was in a large bun remarked brightly.
âUh, i-itâs really not-â Stan protested, growing more and more nervous by the second.
âGosh, Iâd pay anything to see what kind of shenanigans you get up to in there,â the clerkâs husband said, putting an arm around his wife.
âOh, me too!â the red-haired woman from before exclaimed. âDo you give any tours?â
âNo, really, I-â Stan stopped short, glancing down at the severe lack of money in his hand as a newfound idea came to him. It was a risky one, given what lay buried just underneath the house, but he had find a way to be able to afford the essentials somehow. Which meant that at this point, he really didnât have too many other options. âUm⊠y-yes! I do give tours! Ten, n-no, fifteen bucks a person!â
While he hadnât expected too many takers to agree to such a high price, Stan was reasonably surprised when all of the townsfolk in the store eagerly cheered and presented their cash to him. He couldnât remember the last time he had seen so much money, much less money that was intended for him. Money that heâd be more than happy to take if it meant keeping both himself and his mission to rescue his brother alive.
âSir!â the first woman spoke up with an excited smile. âWhat did you say your name was again, you man of mystery?â
âOh, uh, StanâŠford,â he said, somewhat uncertain at first as he quickly convinced him that he had done this before. He had taken up plenty of false names in the past, and while this particular one belonged to his brother, he knew just how much trouble it could keep him out of. So he took it. âStanford Pines.â
With their money already in hand, Stan lead the eager crowd of townsfolk over to Fordâs house, escorting them into the foyer, which was packed with his brotherâs impressive collection of scattered tech and various notes. Certainly if there was anything that would impress this excitable group, it would be found here. âStep right up, folks, to, uh⊠a world of, um⊠enchantment or whatever,â Stan said, somewhat uncertain about how to present any of this. Still, he grabbed the first thing he saw, which was some small, strange readio-like device, the functions and purpose of which he had no idea. âBehold, uh, the⊠nerdy science box.â
The red-haired woman leaned forward a bit to get a better look at the device, only for a sudden spark to burst out of it and strike it squarely in her eyes, making it go lazy before shutting entirely. âAugh! My eye!â she cried, reeling back in pain as the other townsfolk gasped in surprise.
âOh! Uh, I-I can assure you thatâs in no way permanent!â Stan quickly promised, though he had no real way of knowing that himself.
âI paid fifteen dollars for this?!â the woman scoffed, sending him an angry glare as the rest of the crowd began to mumble their disapproval amongst themselves.
âUhhâŠâ Stan glanced around, desperate to salvage this in any way he could, especially as he heard the first whispers of refunds among the group. Refunds that he couldnât really afford to give, all things considered. Fortunately though, quick thinking was what he did best. âY-youâre lucky you werenât part of the last tour groupâŠâ he began, somewhat unsteadily as he grabbed the nearby scientific skeleton and dressed it up in a tropical shirt and shades. âThey never made it out alive! âŠR-right?â
A beat of awkward silence passed at this, but fortunately it was soon broken by the slow-starting laughter of his audience. As it steadily grew into genuine amusement, Stan couldnât help but let out a small sigh of relief as he realized that this could work. This could be just the of break in his almost constant string of bad luck he needed.
So he ran with it. It took a roughly a week for him to figure everything out, but with a little time and a little elbow grease, he began his latest, most promising business venture yet. After tying up the house, setting up ample flashy signage all around it, and using what he had on hand to create as many bizarre attractions as he could, Stan formally opened what he had decided to call the Murder Hut (though its name would eventually be changed to the Mystery Shack upon the suggestion of a certain purple Gem). The tourist trap did exactly as it advertised, luring people in from all over town and even beyond it to see the oddities put on display. Fortunately for Stan, Gravity Falls already had something of a reputation of being a strange little town, so the folklore basically wrote itself, allowing him to profit off of it even more. And profit he did. In just a matter of months, he had accumulated more money that he had to his name his entire life, money that he put to good use by paying Fordâs bills and keeping things up and running so he could continue on in his still quite tireless mission to rescue him.
If he was perfectly honest with himself, Stan found the tourist trap business to be by far the easiest thing he had ever tried his hand at; it played well to his ability to lie and scam and fool the masses into believing anything he said. After all, it was all part of the fun, so there was really no harm in it. Truly, this was a fresh start, one that came about from the very worst of circumstances, but proved to work out well enough in the end. Still, he made sure to cover his tracks well, formally burying any remnants of his harrowing former life in the remains of a faked car crash, his fake IDs and former crimes tucked away in a hidden box inside his newly created office. In fact, as time went on and his profits and his business grew, there were points where it felt like the mistakes of his tattered, poverty-stricken past didnât even exist at all.
Still, not all was completely well. After all, Rose Quartz still resided up at the temple just a few minutes up the hill from the shack, and every single time her and Stan happened to encounter each other, tension and conflict usually ensued. Their disagreement over the portal situation was something neither of them could compromise on, to the point that their bitterness towards each other, as well as their harden resolves remained firmly in place for years. They were never able to reconcile over it, even as Stan ended up hiring a young musician who was infatuated with Rose, the other Crystal Gems somehow lost their memories of the entire ordeal, even as Stan ended up developing a close friendship with the small purple one, even as Rose herself gave up her form to bring a half-human child into the world. The contention between them always remained, just about up until the very end of the pink Gemâs existence. And really, considering all of the toil and frustration he had endured over the years as a result of having to do it all on his own, Stan couldnât really say he held any regret over their rigid relationship. Perhaps, in different circumstances, maybe they could have been on good terms, just Rose apparently had been with Ford, a sentiment that the pink Gem had expressed to Stan herself just a few days before her end, but when it was all said and done, mere sentiments were nowhere close to enough.
Still, even despite Roseâs opposition, Stan remained hard at work on the portal for the next 30 years, to the point that he had developed a fairly steady routine. By day, heâd operate the Mystery Shack, conning tourists and raking in profits without hitch. But at night, heâd make the trip down to the basement, pouring over Fordâs old notes, teaching himself advanced scientific concepts, and working tirelessly towards one single essential goal:
Bringing his brother home.
Present Day
âI couldnât risk letting anyone learning the truth and sabotaging my mission,â Stan said as he finally concluded his long tale. âSo I lied to everyone: the town, my family, you three,â he nodded over to the Gems, who looked less than pleased with everything he had just heard. Even so, the conman decided to deal with them later as he instead addressed his nibblings. âYour parents, even you kids. I gotta admit itâs⊠been rough, working on this thing all these years all by myself. But in the end, I guess it all finally came together.â
âCame together?â Ford scoffed in appalment. âYou could have destroyed our entire reality with this machine! How in the world can you actually stand there and be proud of that fact, Stanley?!â
âWell I would be proud if you would just thank me for finally coming through for you after all these years,â Stan retorted, crossing his arms. âBut I guess thatâs not good enough for you, is it, Ford? Shouldâve expected that, seeing as how nothing ever is!â
The author was more than ready to shoot just as bitter of a retort right back at his brother, but before he could, Steven suddenly interjected. âWhoa, hey, wait!â the young gem implored fretfully. âYou guys are brothers! A-and youâve been apart for so long! You shouldnât fight; instead you should be happy finally see each other again!â
âYeah, thatâs right!â Mabel added just as fervently. âLike I said earlier, you two gotta hug it out!â
âPfft, yeah right,â Stan rolled his eyes with a cold scowl.
âAbsolutely not,â Ford added, turning his nose up at his brother.
ââŠWell⊠at least they agree on something?â Steven shrugged, exchanging a concerned look with Mabel. At the same time, the young Gem happened to glance past her over at Dipper, who had said nothing since Stan had finished his story. Instead, he sat, his gaze fixed on the ground and his expression tight with what almost looked like conflict mingled with frustration, as if he didnât know what to really make of everything he had just heard. And of course, in light of it all, his apparently bitter silence was more than enough to make Steven worry. âUm⊠Dipper? Are⊠are you ok?â
Dipper flinched at this, briefly glancing up at both the young Gem as well as his sister who looked to him with equal concern. Concern that, considering where he currently stood with both of them in light of what had happened in the moments preceding the portalâs activation, he really didnât want. âUh, yeah, Iâm fine,â he quickly brushed the matter aside, still not saying much to either of them as he turned his attention to Stan in slight shame. âUm⊠Grunkle Stan? I, uh⊠Iâm⊠sorry I didnât believe youâŠâ
âThatâs ok, kid,â Stan nodded with a small smile of acceptance. âI probably wouldnât have believed me either.â
âAlright, so now we know about everything that apparently happened,â Pearl interjected with an exasperated sigh. âBut that still doesnât explain we donât remember any part of it that involved us! Right?â
âRight,â Garnet said as Amethyst simply nodded absently. âOur memories are still missing and we still need to get to the bottom of what happened to them.â
âSo its time for one of you to start explaining things on that front,â Pearl said, glaring between Stan and Ford. âParticularly you, Stan, seeing as how you seemed to have apparently known something about this all these years!â
âAnd you didnât bother to even tell usâŠâ Amethyst muttered despondently, still averting the conmanâs gaze as she scowled at the floor. âJust like everything else, I guessâŠâ
Stan hesitated, frowning sympathetically to the purple Gem before he addressed her teammateâs concerns. âWhat, you think I have something to do with what happened to your memories? Please,â he scoffed. âI wouldnât know the first thing about who or what jacked them, and I definitely donât know why. But if you had wanted to talk to someone who might have known about all that, then you should have asked Rose before she up and left you three on your own.â
The Gems couldnât hold back a collective gasp upon hearing this, all three of them silent for a moment as they exchange an appalled, yet slightly nervous glance. Steven shared in their stark concern, looking to them with wide eyes as he noticed just how doubtful they all seemed to be. Doubt that perhaps wasnât reserved for what the conman had just said, but rather for what their beloved leader might have hidden from them for so very long.
Still, the Gems had no time to even question this line of logic before the lab monitor blared out once more with a proclamation from Agent Powers from above that quickly startled the entire group below. âI heard talking! Itâs coming from downstairs!â
âOh no! Its too late!â Stan exclaimed in apt alarm. âThose agents are coming for us!â
âAw man, I was so spellbound by your dramatic tale I forgot all about those dudes!â Soos lamented.
âW-what do we do?â Mabel asked anxiously.
âFinally Gem-up and kick their butts is what we do,â Amethyst growled, a glare still dominating her expression as she pulled her whip out.
âWe canât,â Garnet asserted authoritatively. âRemember Amethyst, theyâre after us too.â
âWait a second⊠remember⊠thatâs it! I think I know a way we might be able to defeat those agents!â Dipper exclaimed with a gasp of realization, reaching into his bookbag and pulling out the memory gun they had all taken from the museum after shutting the Society of the Blind Eye down. It had been a precaution that the Gems had suggested, though they wanted really no parts in handling the device themselves so Dipper had volunteered to do so instead. And it turned out this was a wise move, seeing as how it could certainly be put to good use for getting the agents off their tail now.
âOf course!â Ford grinned as Dipper handed the memory gun over to him and smiling every bit as brightly, clearly glad for the authorâs excited adulation. âI donât know how you managed to get ahold of one of these, but this is perfect! If I can just amplify the signal to a radio headset frequencyâŠâ Ford trailed off, doing just that as he connected the device to the radio tower he knew was above ground and working quickly since he knew well that the agents were on the approach. âAlright, that should do it. Now, everyone, plug your ears and get down!â
âThat wonât be necessary,â Garnet interjected quickly before looking to the young Gem beside her. âSteven, you know what to do.â
âRight,â he nodded, throwing his arms out wide as a large pink bubble surrounded the entire group. Upon seeing this, Ford paused, his jaw dropping in apt surprise at the sight of the all-too familiar sphere, though the amazement and curiosity on his expression only seemed to grow as he glanced back down to the young Gem who had created it. Curiosity that was not lost on Stan as he noticed his brotherâs marveling expression, one that he instantly understood and instantly disapproved of.
There was no time to address it however, as the blast from the memory gun charged up, unbeknownst to the agents still congregated outside the shack. âSir, look! Thereâs a hidden door behind the vending machine!â Trigger exclaimed as he ran out of the house to meet Powers.
âExcellent,â the agent grinned in satisfaction at the near end of this lengthy game of cat and mouse. âGet me Washington on line 1! Iâve been practicing sounds of excitement for this very occasion. Hey, do you hear that?â he asked in reference to the steadily growing whirling sound, one that quickly grew to deafening levels as a heavy flash of energy poured out of the antenna hidden within the shackâs totem pole. The group in the basement was completely protected from its memory-wiping effects thanks to Stevenâs bubble, but the agents above ground werenât so lucky, as their sudden disorientation quickly proved.
âWhat? Where am I?â Powers asked as he placed a hand against his now throbbing head. âWhy am I standing in front of some goofy, fun knick-knack house?â
âStand down, gentlemen!â Ford ordered as he came to stand on the porch before the agents, acting on the impromptu plan they had all quickly devised in the basement. âIâve been sent with the latest intel from Washington,â he took out the papers Mabel had handed him right before walking out, filled with zany colorful pictures she had drawn. Still, even despite their random silliness, Ford kept a completely straight, authoritative manner as he continued. âAccording to this very real report, the power surges in Gravity Falls were actually due to radiation from an unreported meteor shower. As for the claims of âaliensâ in the town, the images you apparently have on file were traced back to some young local prankster, making them completely and utterly invalid. A total embarrassment for your whole department. Luckily, Iâm here to take this mess off your hands, but Iâll need all of your⊠floppy disks and 8-tracks⊠right?â
âUh, everything about this case is contained on this drive,â Powers said, presenting said flash drive, which Ford quickly took.
âWell, what are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek?â Ford asked quite harshly. âGet out of here before I have your butts court-martialed!â
âUh, y-yes, sir!â Powers exclaimed, saluting as he quickly turned to his fellow agents. âFalse alarm, everyone!â
The rest of the squadron swiftly followed this demand, packing up into their cars and helicopters and leaving the property once and for all. As soon as they were gone, Ford disposed of the flash drive by handing it off to Gompers, who readily took it in his mouth and chewed away before running off. With the coast clear, everyone hidden inside the shack was quick to emerge, the kids rushing forward first, all three of them in equal excitement over the impressive act the author had just put on.
âGreat Uncle Stanford, that was amazing!â Mabel exclaimed with a wide smile.
âYeah! You nearly had me believing all that stuff you were saying, and I know the truth!â Steven said just as brightly.
âLetâs not go crazy,â Stan spoke up dryly. âIt was serviceable.â
Ford ignored his brotherâs sardonic remark, instead taking in the kidsâ praise somewhat bashfully as he let out a small chuckle. âThank you, kids, but please, call me Ford.â
âSure, thanks, G-Great Uncle Ford!â Dipper interjected, both anxiously and excitedly, still quite starstruck by the author himself as he pulled out a pen and notepad. âSo, uh⊠Would you mind if I asked you a couple million questions about Gravity Falls?â
âUm, w-well, I⊠uhâŠâ Ford trailed off, his smile fading as he glanced up towards the Gems, none of who were looking to him rather fondly. Luckily, before he really needed to say anything, Stan stepped in.
âAlright, kids, its been a long day,â the conman said, already starting to usher them away. âMe and my brother have a lot to talk about. Why donât you hit the hay, huh?â
âB-but, itâs the author!â Dipper protested, rapidly clicking his pen. âIâve been waiting so long to ask questions about-â
âI said hit the hay!â Stan snapped, pushing both of the twins into the house, much to Dipperâs disappointment in particular.
âThe same goes for you, Steven,â Pearl said to the young Gem, gently motioning up to the temple. âA⊠a lotâs happened today and⊠umâŠâ
âYou need your rest,â Garnet finished, though it was clear her tone wasnât as steady as it usually was. âIn fact, we all do.â She placed firm hands on both of her teammatesâ shoulders at this, leaving them with the implication that their night would involve much less rest and more intensive discussion on exactly what was unraveling here.
Steven wanted to say something to both his guardians and the author at this juncture, but he didnât exactly know what. So instead, he let out a small, sad sigh, following their instructions as he began the trek back up to the temple. The Gems began to follow him, but before they could get to far, Ford hurried after them.
âWait!â he exclaimed, pausing briefly as they turned to face him, their expressions still as distrustful and uncertain as they had been the moment he stepped out of the portal. Something that honestly didnât surprise the author that much, given their lack of knowledge of their former friendship, though in a strange way, it still hurt him nonetheless. âGarnet, Amethyst, Pearl, I-IâŠâ he hesitated once more before dropping his voice down into a whisper only they could hear. âIs it true? Is she really gone?â
Pearl let out a sharp sigh at this, her glare deepening as she looked away from Ford fiercely. Amethyst still didnât have much to say at all, which was why Garnet was the one to answer with only a solemn nod. A nod that, in a way, served to confirm what he had desperately not wanted to believe. âW-well then⊠I suppose the apology I had intended for her all these years will just have to pass along to all of youâŠâ he continued with a remorseful frown. âI truly am sorry for everything that happened between us all those years ago. I made such a momentous mistake and I dragged you three and Rose into it right along with me. B-but⊠I intend to make up for the wrongs of the past in the present. I know you might not have much reason to trust me now, but I promise that Iâll do whatever it takes to help you three recover your lost memories. Itâs the least I can do after⊠well, you knowâŠâ
The Gems were still silent upon hearing this, Amethyst hardly even paying much attention as she instead set her petulant sights on Stan in the distance, who only returned her thinly-veiled glare with a look of silent apologies that were nowhere near sufficient enough. Pearl briefly glanced up at Ford before wrapping her arms around herself tighter, closing her eyes as she refused to offer him so much as even a word. Which once again, left Garnet to be the teamâs anchor, even if her manner was anything but strong and steadfast as it usually was when she let out her simple, yet sincere response. âThank you,â she said, and with that, the Gems turned and began heading for the temple, leaving Ford with age-old regrets that only seemed to weigh all the heavier on him as he watched them go.
Of course, Stan was reminded of quite a few of his own regrets as Ford turned to him, tension filling both of their expressions as they knew they had much to sort out now. Aside from them, the only one still present was Soos, though he was quick to excuse himself in favor of leaving the incoming awkwardness behind. âUh⊠Iâll just⊠let myself outâŠâ the handyman said, though as he ran off, he was quick to excitedly dial is coworker up in order to fill her in. âWendy, Iâve got something amazing to tell you. Clear the next fourteen hours!â
The Gems had sealed themselves away inside the temple ever since they got back, something that Steven honestly didnât question that much as he got himself ready for bed. Still, the young Gemâs thoughts were far from quiet as he went about his normal routine, something that felt so strange in light of just how much had changed over the past several hours alone. However, it all came to a grinding halt the moment he happened to stop short and take a glance up at the picture of his mother hanging from the wall above the door.
From Stan and Fordâs respective recollections alone, Steven had managed to learn so much about Rose that he had never really known before. Of course, both of the brothers had told vastly different accounts based on their interactions with the pink Gem, one of them clearly viewing her very highly while the other one only held disdain towards her. And based on these two incredibly conflicting viewpoints, Steven was left not really knowing what to think at all.
On one hand, Rose and the other Crystal Gems had saved the earth from Homeworld. They protected humanity and still strove to do so. They curiously explored the mysteries of Gravity Falls alongside Ford, hoping to find tangible answers that could enlighten mankind. And yet⊠they had also unwittingly built an effective doomsday device, one that threatened the universeâs safety on more than one occasion. Even after learning about the machineâs true nature, based on what he had heard, it seemed to Steven like Rose didnât really make any real efforts to try and fix this major mistake she was partially responsible for. The most she had ever really done was keep journal 3 away from Stan, but even that was a very touchy issue. For in doing so, she had effectively barred the conman from the information he needed to save his brother, which was, to the young Gem, a noble, selfless pursuit by all accounts, even despite the relative risks. A pursuit that Rose had fiercely, adamantly tried to stop up until her very end.
But then there was the implication that had left even the Gems reeling, that Rose might have known something about her teammatesâ missing memories, that she might have even had something to do with their removal in the first place. It was something that Steven really didnât want to believe, even despite the long-awaited answers it could possibly point towards if it was true. Because in all honesty, it just didnât make sense. If Rose had cared about her fellow Gems and supported them as much as Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl always claimed, then why would she keep this part of the past hidden away from them? Why would she have left them in the dark for so long? Why would she have left them behind without even the faintest clue that a piece of each of their memories was missing, leaving them lost, confused, even fractured?
Steven shook his head, his brow furrowing in frustrated confusion as he headed to bed, finally looking away from the peaceful portrait of his mother. His mother, who always seemed to be at the center of so many mysteries that she had now become a mystery herself.
âUgh, look at us,â Stan remarked as him and Ford stood side by-side in front of the downstairs mirror. The author had traded out his worn, ragged portal gear for more simpler attire: his favorite old tan lab coat over a red sweater and black pants. Yet even despite this shift in clothes, that didnât mean the brothers didnât look any less similar, even despite all of the years that had gone by. âWhen did we become old men?â
âYou look like Dad,â Ford remarked with a bit of a wry smirk.
âUgh, donât say that,â the conman rolled his eyes, a hint of bemused disgust in his tone as both him and his brother broke out into a small bout of almost bittersweet laughter. Laughter that was, of course, all too quickly replaced with rigid formality once again.
âOk, Stanley, hereâs the deal,â Ford began with a small, somewhat tired sigh. âYou can stay here for the rest of the summer to watch the kids. Iâll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage from the portal. But when the summerâs over, you give me my house back, you give me my name back, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?â
âYou really arenât gonna thank me, are you?â Stan asked, quite taken aback by all these rather harsh demands. Ford simply glanced downward, not even showing a hint of breaking his stoic, cold resolve on the matter, much to Stanâs frustration. âFine,â he begrudgingly agreed, knowing that he didnât really have much of a choice. âBut on one condition: you stay away from the kids. Theyâve already gotten in way over their heads getting involved with all this Gem stuff, and I donât want them in any more danger. Because as far as Iâm concerned, theyâre the only family I have left.â
Stan made his point quite clear as he turned and began to head upstairs at this, though he did briefly stop short to glance back at his brother again. âOh, and one more thing,â he said, his tone still firm and unyielding. âDonât think I didnât notice how you looked at Steven down in the basement earlier. Just so you know, Sixer, heâs not Rose. He never has been and he never will be, and he doesnât need you poking and prying at him trying to figure out how that works. He already gets enough of that from the Gems. So donât be trying to always compare him to her like they do. Because whether you like it or not, Stevenâs way better than Rose ever was.â
Ford said nothing in response to this, his glare sharpening just the slightest bit, though Stan didnât see it for too long as he turned and continued on his way. In fact, neither of them made much of an effort to say anything else at all, for really, what could be said? So much had changed over the past thirty years, but for as much as had shifted, so much of it had also stayed the same, especially between the two brothers. Even despite the years of separation and doubt, they were still back the same place they had been when their close knit bond had fallen apart on that miserable night when they were teenagers. They were still so far away from the camaraderie and companionship they had always found in each other when they were simple, innocent children, cheerfully running across a sunny shore that now only existed in the bittersweet past.
A past that held no place in the now-tarnished present and the uncertain, unsteady future.
âDid you hear what they said?â Mabel asked Dipper as she stood near the attic door, trying her best to overhear what their uncles had been discussing. âI think Grunkle Ford said theyâre gonna buy us puppies made of ice cream. Might be wishful thinking thoughâŠâ
âUh huh,â Dipper absently replied as he continued working on patching the pieces of the torn photos of himself and Lapis up, a project he had undertaken for the past several weeks and seemed quite deadest on now for some reason. âThatâs nice.â
Mabel frowned at this, stepped away from the door as she noticed her brotherâs refusal to so much as even glance up at her in his irritated manner. âUh⊠w-well, arenât you excited? I mean, youâve always wanted to meet the author, and um, bam! Come to find out heâs our grunkle so⊠thatâs pretty cool, i-isnât it?â
âYeah, it is,â Dipper said, letting out something of a small sigh of annoyance as he continued taping picture scraps together. âItâs⊠really coolâŠâ
âUm⊠Dipper?â Mabel began without really thinking, wanting to ask him exactly what seemed to be bothering him. Though given that she already had a pretty strong hunch as to what the problem was here, her nerves held her back as she went off on a different tangent entirely. âYou⊠you donât think weâll turn out like Stan and Ford⊠d-do you?â
Dipper finally glanced up at this, stilling his progress on the pictures as he looked to his sister in slight confusion. âW-what do you mean?â
Mabel let out a worried sigh as she flopped down onto her bed, not hiding her growing concern this time. âI mean⊠they used to be best friends, but then they got all stupid. C-can⊠can you promise me you wonât get stupid?â
Dipper hesitated, something that alone made Mabelâs heart sink, though the flash of what almost looked like appalled anger at her question that ran across his expression did so even more. Still, whatever he might have wanted to say, he kept it to himself, instead simply looking down as he began putting the picture scraps away for the night and answered her in an unresolved mutter. âS-sure⊠Whatever you sayâŠâ
Mabel took in a deep breath at this, guilt filling her slowly as she kept her gaze towards him, even as he reached to turn the light out. âUh⊠w-well, Iâm⊠glad to hear thatâŠâ she said with a weak, fake smile. âGood night, bro-bro.â
âYeahâŠâ Dipper sighed as he lay down and purposefully turned away from her, the dejection in his tone clear. âGood nightâŠâ
Mabel sighed herself as she set her sights on the ceiling above, restlessness overtaking her amidst her ever-growing Fear. Fear that things were so incredibly possibly different now that it was almost impossible describe everything that had just changed. That tension and anxiety would wash over the tide of togetherness and fun they had known all summer. That the past would soon repeat itself in the present, no matter how much they tried to avoid it.
And that perhaps it had already begun to do just that.
#jen writes#universe falls#steven universe#gravity falls#a tale of two stans#crossover#au#stan#ford#rose quartz#pearl#garnet#amethyst#steven#dipper#mabel#mcgucket#other characters too but whatever#mystery shack#crystal gems#keyword is brothers
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Scoe 10x Cat Urine Astounding Ideas
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How To Stop Neutered Male Cat From Spraying In House
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Woke up today to an email from a fellow manager, asking if I could call her as soon as I got the email. She sent it at about 9:30 this morning...I didnât get up until almost 5:00pm.
But this is a manager I have enormous respect for, so I called. She wanted to meet âanywhere but at workâ to talk about some drama that went down (this being my night off, the subject of the conversation was managing at our own casino tonight). So we met at another local casino to talk things out over a drink.
One of the other managers (who very few respect -- he doesnât have mine) went off on one of my shiftâs employees on Tuesday night over nothing at all (she was doing as her department manager has told her to do). I gave this employeeâs direct boss a heads up over the situation, and she sent an email telling him that he had crossed the line, and that he owed the staff member an apology.
He sent an email back chastising her and the employee, and demanding an apology from HER. The manager she worked with today was nervous that things were going to get ugly when the jerk manager came in, so he recommended that she leave early, and she agreed in an effort to diffuse the situation. The jerk manager came in, looked for her, and then commented that she had left âwith her tail between her legs.â
Now, sheâs our only female manager. Once she heard about this, she knew that she HAD to stand up for herself -- she couldnât be seen as the âwoman running awayâ from the wannabe âmanly-man.â
So she came back to work, found the jerk, and said âIâm here. Letâs do this.â Then she went into the office and waited for him.
It took him a couple minutes (probably to work up the courage), but he finally joined her in the office.
Thankfully, our collective boss was also in the office, and aware of the situation, and he put the kibosh on any further discussion until the situation is investigated.
So the property manager is now involved, as is Human Resources. Video is being looked at. And I now know, based on my conversation with the manager tonight, that when I get to work tomorrow, Iâm going to be questioned about the situation (since I was the manager on duty when it went down). And honestly, Iâm looking forward to it. Because I have a feeling that, when I give my own perspective on things, itâs going to go well for the respectable manager and not so well for the jerk.
I assured this respectable manager that Iâve got her back, as well as the back of the employee. I also assured her that tonightâs conversation ânever happenedâ as far as the information Iâll provide.
The other manager was in the wrong. Iâm in complete agreement with her. I didnât tell him so at the time because we were on the casino floor and that is not the place to air grievances (even though he aired his to me on the casino floor -- and right in front of the employee). And he said in his email back to the respectable manager that heâd had a couple drinks, yet he wrote up the employee over the situation after receiving the respectable managerâs email (which our collective boss tore up -- if youâre off-duty and have been drinking, you donât get to write up an employee in retaliation over an email you didnât like from another manager).
Iâm not looking to cost anyone their job (and I donât think itâs going to go that far -- he may get written up, but weâre too short-staffed to fire him, and heâs our promotions guy who runs our parties and giveaways), but heâs had it out for this employee for a while. This shit has got to stop.
So there will be individual conversations with those involved (including the sports book employee who was conducting the transaction with my employee, even though he works for a different company that leases their space in the casino), and then there will be a group discussion among those involved so we can put this crap behind us and hopefully move on with us on the same page. I donât know if jerk-manager will cooperate, but thatâs on him. As for the rest of us, weâll come to an agreement on how things should be done, weâll (I assume) agree that the employee was right to page me instead of interrupting her transaction and leaving thousands of dollars sitting on the counter while she ran a promotion where someone might win $50 free play (they have a 10% chance of winning free play, and then if they do get the free play, thereâs a 95% chance that it will be $5, and a 5% chance that it will be $50)...especially when I would have had to disqualify jerk-manager anyway if he had started the game without me there to witness it.
I mean, yes, I was dealing with a pretty major malfunction in our live Keno, but...I can multitask. I had actually just finished mitigating the problem (as far as I know itâs still a problem, but I had just learned how to solve it in the most fair way possible -- maybe Iâll post about that separately because this post is already long). But even if I hadnât mitigated it for the moment, Iâve got my employeesâ backs, and if they need help, thatâs what Iâm there for. Thatâs why I get paid lunches -- because if Iâm needed on the floor, my lunch is over (which is why I take multiple short breaks and no long ones, because I donât think a half-hour period EVER transpires at work where Iâm not needed for something or another).
Schedules will be changed so this employee doesnât have to work with that manager on my nights off. That may mean a change in the employeeâs days off, or it may mean a change in my own days off. But he has been out to get this employee for so long that something has to be done to keep them separated.
She is by no means a perfect employee, but she knows her stuff, and does things (mostly) right (she does have a habit of spending too much time talking to some people, but...in this case the jerk manager came down on her for not interrupting a cash transaction to run a promotion for this other manager -- one that I have to be present for anyway when an employee participates). She paged me for assistance, which is all I ask (especially when I have to observe the employeeâs turn anyway). Iâm there to help. If the employee is doing one thing and something else comes up, I want to be paged so we can take care of both things at once.
Our boss even sent out an email not long ago, saying that we are there to assist, not just give directives (this jerk manager will see an empty glass and call a casino attendant over to pick it up; whereas I will see an empty glass and Iâll pick it up my damned self, because Iâm not a lazy jerk). Our job, as managers, is to make our staffâs jobs easier, not to ride their backs over every little thing until they quit. Yes, there are times where we have to be the bad guy and correct behavior, but this was not one of those times -- the casino attendant did nothing wrong.
We have enough of a problem retaining staff as it is, paying $1 less than minimum wage. And this is an employee that we CANNOT afford to lose.
Oh, and remember how I was called in to work yesterday and decided not to go? Had it not been for this situation, I totally would have gone in. I mean, four hours of $18/hour overtime? Thatâs an extra $72 in my pocket on the next paycheck (less taxes, of course). But I was still pissed off about the situation, and Iâd be working with the jerk manager, so that was why I didnât go in.
I have to work with jerk-manager tomorrow for the first four hours of my shift (heâs actually scheduled for the first FIVE hours of my shift, but he ALWAYS leaves at 7:00 even though heâs scheduled until 8:00 -- something I may bring up in the conversation with my boss tomorrow to show that jerk manager doesnât even work his full shift, since heâs taking advantage of his salaried status to work less for the same pay). So...that should be fun.
If he doesnât bring up the situation, neither will I. Iâll have my chat with my boss and then let it go (depending on his behavior during the shift, of course). But if he does, Iâll ask him to join me in the office and have it out with him, but I am NOT having the discussion on the casino floor within earshot of guests and employees.
Iâm gonna keep my nose clean in this. Well, at least Iâm gonna try. I mean, yes, things may get ugly, and my nose may get a little dirty. But itâs not gonna happen in public. Itâs gonna happen on MY terms, not his.
This is the guy who trained me when I hired in (people are always surprised that heâs the one who trained me, because...well, Iâm actually good at my job, unlike him; Iâve learned from my experiences over the past year and a half and applied that knowledge instead of spending my time doing the same tree magic tricks for guests while ignoring actual casino issues).
While he may be a great guest relations-type person, he is NOT management material when it comes to dealing with employees.
Anyway, Iâm glad I met with the manager I respect tonight to get more of the story (even though I have to pretend that conversation never happened when I give my side of the story to my boss tomorrow). It was work drama on a day off, but...it was also profitable (the casino I suggested we meet at had given me $10 free play, which I turned into $20 cash as I absent-mindedly played video poker during the conversation -- I wouldnât have played at all, but if I wasnât playing, I wouldnât have gotten the free drink [well, with a $2 tip -- because when I tended bar at my own casino on graveyard, may favorite guests were the $2 tippers; I could have gotten away with $1, but this bartender, while he hasnât seen me for a while, knows me as a $2 tipper]).
Usually a situation like this would make me nervous as hell. I would NOT be looking forward to the interview thatâs to come. But in this case, Iâm MORE than happy to present the situation as I know it (my biggest fear is saying something that shows that respectable-manager and I had a conversation about it tonight, but our conversation didnât change anything in my view of the situation; it was more about her venting so she could enjoy her days off without dwelling on this situation; I plan to uphold my promise to her that, as far as our boss is concerned, âthis conversation never happenedâ).
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Chapter one of ROLLERSKATE-taekook
" Jimin, I already told you. I don't want a one night stand! I can't handle the stress.." Tae said quietly.
" Fine! It was just a suggestion. I just wanted to help you out."Jimin said, sounding somewhat sincere.
"Â You never help anyone without something in return...what do you want? "Tae asked hesitantly.
Jimin seemed offended for a second, mouthing, "How dare you."Â
" Okay ... I might have found a sexy guy the other night, and I wanted to hang out with him again, but not seem desperate, so I signed us both for a date. " He admitted, making Taehyung sight in annoyance.
" And before you deny me completely, I have to remind you that you owe me big time. Plus, his friend, it's a real hottie. You could use the distraction."
V fake smiled, cursing himself. If he knew Jimin would be such a bitch, he wouldn't have land money from him so many times. Who gives the money back anyway? No one.
Jimin continued rambling about nonsense, while Tae was trying to finish his homework before the next class. It wasn't easy.
" Can you stop speaking for a second and pay attention in class? I am tired of giving you my notes every single day. "
Jimin stopped talking, assimilating the words.
" But you give them to Yoongi since forever. Are you picking favorites, Tae? Is he prettier than me? Jimin interrogatories, offended.
Taehyung laughs, not bothering to answer.Â
Yoongi was his best friend since they learned how to walk. They knew everything about each other. A lot of embarrassing stories about their childhood and inside jokes were always brought up by one of them. He was not getting into a fight with the two of them.
The teacher entered the classroom, saving Taehyung from his thoughts.
"Hello, class! My name is Morgan Grace," she said, writing her name on the whiteboard." I will be your substitute teacher this semester. Do you have any questions?"
Jimin glances at her, not interested.
" She is hot, too bad she's a teacher, "He said, looking at her butt.
V looked at the professor for a second. She was tall for a woman, at least. Her face was beautiful but tired, her glasses failing to hide her dark circles. The dress she wore was hugging her in all the right places, but it was a bit too tight for the occasion, trying to hide the fact that she was probably in her late twenties.Â
Their high school started hiring more attractive teachers lately. They were increasing each year, and the students were not mad about it.                                          Maybe it was a strategy to make students attend class more often. It was working quite right.
When the class ended, after a full 50 minutes of mayhem, Taehyung was more than happy to do his favorite activity, eating his launch finally.
He took out a Nesquik bar from his backpack, taking a big bite of it while waiting for Jimin and Yoongi to arrive. They were taking forever. Was it that hard to buy a pack of chips?
After a good 10 minutes, in which Tae finished his little snack and waited patiently to go home finally, he saw his friends coming towards him, laughing at each other.
" Fucking ...Finally! Did you have to take this long? We're you two making out or something?" Taehyung asks jokingly, making the 'couple' shake their heads, looking disgusted.Â
"A new student transferred, and people were blocking the corridor to see who it was. " Yoongi answered uninterestedly. " That's why we're late, sorry ."Â Â
" We have a new student? "Taehyung spoke, surprised ."I thought the principal didn't want to accept anyone this year ."
" Maybe he made an exception. Money can easily have that effect on people."Â
They were right; the students were more hectic than usual. In the middle of them all, like a shadow, almost trying to blend in the background stood a dark-haired boy, dressed in black.
He had a blank face, his pale complexion contrasting the rest of his appearance. It was hard to look away.
Taehyung was dazed. He wanted to annalize the ghost of a boy a little more, afraid he might disappear any moment from his sight.
" Do you know anything about him? " Tae asked, still watching the younger boy. He almost seemed desperate, trying to find some light into the dark.
" Not really. He hasn't spoken a word to anyone yet. " Jimin answered, looking at the boy as well. " I don't think he wants the attention."Â
Taehyung threw a last glance at the boy. He didn't want to be watched, avoiding eye-contact with everyone he could. Still, V felt the need to meet his eye, to stare into his eyes, to get lost.
It didn't happen, though. The boy never looked up - he just walked the corridor in silence, losing into the crowd.
You can find the rest of the story on wattpad, https://my.w.tt/NnjQZ4x884đđ
#wattpad#fanfiction#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#taekook#vkook#love#pleaseread#bts#bangta boys#gay love
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With His Fourth Book, Charles Yu Finally Feels Like a Writer
IRVINE, Calif. â Charles Yu is very interested in stories, both the stories we tell ourselves and the stories that are told to us, so letâs start with a story about him.
Once upon a time, there was a boy born in Los Angeles to a Taiwanese mother and father. The boy spent his days watching âThe Twilight Zoneâ reruns, playing Street Fighter II, reading âChoose Your Own Adventureâ books and thinking about where he might fit in. When he grew up, he became a corporate lawyer.
The end.
Except, as with all good stories, thereâs more to the story than that.
The boy also wrote fiction, but not until he was an adult. He worked as a lawyer by day and wrote late into the night. He published three books, and his fourth, the novel âInterior Chinatown,â is set to come out at the end of this month.
Itâs the story of Willis Wu, a young man whoâs struggling to figure out what his role is in life, literally. Wu resides in a version of Chinatown thatâs both a real place and the backdrop to an ongoing police procedural TV show called âBlack and White.â Its inhabitants live their lives as well as the parts assigned to them: Disgraced Son, Delivery Guy, Young Dragon Lady, Silent Henchman or the most coveted role of all, Kung Fu Guy. âInterior Chinatownâ â the title puns on the screenplay convention for describing locations â recalls the humorous and heartfelt short stories of George Saunders, the metafictional high jinks of Mark Leyner and films like âThe Truman Show.â
âI feel like I was an existentialist from the age of 5,â Yu, 44, said last month over dim sum near his home in Irvine. Heâd suggested we meet at this restaurant in the Spectrum Center, a sprawling, pleasantly engineered outdoor mall that functions as Irvineâs de facto civic space. Itâs the kind of place that, frankly, might serve as a setting for one of Yuâs stories, which are often about the uneasy feeling that somethingâs not quite right with the world. âEven as a kid,â he said, âI was always obsessed with these questions. Who am I? How did I get here? What am I doing in this place?â
Image
Charles Yuâs novel âInterior Chinatownâ comes out Jan. 28.
Despite these inclinations, he never believed he would be a writer. Instead, he went to law school at Columbia. It was there, while studying for the bar, that he picked up books of fiction that blew his mind: Saunders, A.M. Homes, Donald Barthelme â writers who grappled with those same questions in bracing ways.
So Yu started writing short stories of his own. He sent them out to literary journals. âI got hundreds of rejections,â he said. âI started posting them on a wall. But one in 50 stories would get published.â The stories were examinations of anxiety and heartbreak, usually framed by a high-concept conceit, such as the travails of a sad-sack superhero named Moisture Man. An agent read one and contacted him. Together they sold his first collection, âThird Class Superhero,â which was published in 2006.
The book was well-reviewed and sold decently. Still, in Yuâs mind, he wasnât really a writer. He was a lawyer. âNot having an M.F.A., having a day job, there was always a feeling like I came in through the back door, or at least the side door,â he said. âEven to this day, it all feels a bit D.I.Y. Itâs like I donât play an instrument, I play a shoebox guitar I made in my garage.â
This is where Yuâs story takes an improbable twist. His collection fell into the hands of the novelist Richard Powers, who championed Yu to be named one of the National Book Foundationâs Five Under 35 most promising writers in America in 2007. Yu was flabbergasted. Heâd never met Powers.
The encouragement was enough to spur him to finish his first novel, âHow to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe,â about a time-machine repairman whoâs willfully stranded himself between moments in time, even as he searches for the father who disappeared from his life. That book also did well, critically and financially, so he followed up in 2012 with the short-story collection âSorry Please Thank You,â which was not quite as successful, either critically or financially. He still owed his publisher another book but Yu recalls feeling self-doubt once again, thinking, O.K., that was fun, but maybe this is it.
Then he got a call from HBO.
Here, the story goes from slightly improbable to downright implausible. Yu had had enough interest from TV executives in his earlier books that heâd done a âwater bottle tourâ â meeting with studios to talk vaguely about potential projects â but he had never considered himself a TV writer. One executive heâd met, though, disagreed. David Levine, who at the time was the co-head of drama at HBO (heâs since left to join Anonymous Content), orchestrated a meeting between Yu and Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy, the showrunners developing âWestworld.â âHe was so self-deprecating,â Levine recalled. âHe told me, I have this other life, Iâm never really going to be a writer, this was always a side career. Writing was still a middle-of-the-night business for him. I just said, Why donât you do it full-time?â
Yu quit his job as a lawyer and started writing for âWestworld.â From there he went from one TV job to the next, eventually landing at âLodge 49,â the sweet and surreal drama on AMC created by the fellow novelist Jim Gavin. âHere was this incredibly smart guy who could really be doing anything he wanted,â Gavin said. âWhat I could sense in his fiction is this strain of comic humanism that underlies the larger conceptual frameworks â that notion that his characters exist in an absurd universe.â
TV writing kept Yu so busy, in fact, that it became another day job. He had two children by then, his novel had stalled, and he was feeling overwhelmed. In 2017, he told his wife heâd decided to abandon the novel and quit writing fiction. She heard him out, then encouraged him to get back to work. After many delays and false starts, he finished âInterior Chinatown,â a book focused, not coincidentally, on the mythmaking machinery of Hollywood. âI was walking one day and the first line came to me: âEver since you were a boy, youâve dreamt of being Kung Fu Guy,ââ he said. âAs a kid, in pop culture, there was really only one truly cool Asian-American stereotype, which is, âYou might know kung fu!â There was Bruce Lee. There was Jackie Chan. Thatâs it.â
Yu started thinking about the immigrant experience of his parents, the experience of his children, his own experiences, and who gets to be the star of his or her own story, rather than a supporting character in someone elseâs. âThe elevator pitch for the book became, âYou know that âLaw & Orderâ episode weâve all seen thatâs set in Chinatown?ââ Yu said. âI want to know about the life of that guy in the background â the one whoâs unloading the van and who got one line.â
Itâs been nearly 15 years since the National Book Foundation anointed Yu as one of the best young writers in America, yet for the first time, heâs starting to believe heâs a writer. Maybe heâs not an impostor after all. âIf anything, itâs feeling confident that if I say the thing Iâm trying to say in the way that I know how to say it, that will be interesting to at least some people,â Yu said. âItâs nice when you feel like you kind of know what youâre doing, a little bit.â
After dim sum, we head out to stroll the manicured laneways of the Spectrum Center. We joke that the mall, with its cheerful storefronts and town square built around a Ferris wheel, feels like the Matrix, or âThe Good Placeâ from TV â an artfully rendered simulacrum of happiness. But maybe itâs O.K. to find your Good Place.
âYou know what else is a simulacrum?â Yu said. âA dream! And thisâ â he looks around â âfeels like a dream.â
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Target Size and 2.5.5 | Adrian Roselli
June eight, 2019; 5 Comments
TL;DR: No matter what accessibility conformance degree you target, attempt to make sure that interactive controls are at the least 44 by 44 pixels in measurement. Hyperlinks in blocks of textual content are exempt.
Overview
In real life thereâs sometimes both a visual and tactile element to an interface. Youâve got to be able to feel the button splits or ridges of your automotiveâs local weather management should you donât need to take your eyes off the street. Contact typing depends on sensing the F and J nubs (for U.S. English keyboards, at the very least) and the gaps between keys. Fumbling with a light-weight change at the hours of darkness is about sliding your hand across the wall.
With computer systems operating a graphical consumer interface (GUI), clicking a button or link is a matter of getting both a proxy on your finger or your finger itself into the fitting spot and not lacking. Youâll be able to swing a mouse pointer round a display with out clicking and nothing dangerous happens, but you canât drag your finger across your telephone to really feel the quantity pad. A stylus might do both, depending on the developerâs intent.
Actual life elements reminiscent of bumpy roads (as a passenger in a automotive, not a driver), palms sticky with ice cream, single-handed use of big shows, previous ball mice filled with desktop lint, or mobility impairments can make a graphical interface confounding to use. Luckily some individuals have been considering these challenges for quite a while.
Fittsâ Regulation
The GUIs we use immediately are informed each by expertise going back millennia and research that is a little more current. For example, in 1954 Fittsâ Regulation put to phrases one thing we might have have innately understood â the time to get to a goal is said to its distance from our start line and its measurement. The result of testing this with customers is that small targets end in larger error charges.
I am oversimplifying a bit, but the gist is that the world of interplay design has recognized concerning the need for bigger targets for longer than there has been a subject of interplay design, not to mention GUIs. Nevertheless, thereâs loads of proof that individual interplay designers perhaps do not know this.
Thatâs part of how we received to a state where we have to mandate bigger goal areas inside WCAG.
WCAG
WCAG 2.1 brought with it a couple of new success standards. 2.5.5 Target Size requires a goal space for a pointer interplay (touch or mouse, for example) to be 44 Ă 44 CSS pixels. This equates to a visual angle of about 0.9372 degrees, or no matter you get if you make a 44 pixel block and view it in your browser with default zoom.
There are exceptions:
If there is a duplicate or equal version of the control at the minimum measurement, then an occasion could be smaller;
If the control lives inside the move of a piece of textual content;
If itâs a default control from the browser with no types applied;
If its smaller measurement is important to accurately conveying info.
2.5.5 is a degree AAA success criterion, which suggests organizations concentrating on AA compliance (primarily all of them) are more likely to ignore it. Which is unlucky, given the potential benefit. Causes for why this was categorized at AAA are past the scope of this publish. Fortunately, there are platform tips and interface design names that advocate for a bigger goal measurement, unbiased of WCAG.
Apple
Apple offers design ideas for contact goal sizes throughout its units. For iOS, it recommends 44 points Ă 44 points (not pixels) at least.
For buttons on watchOS, Apple recommends totally different minimums based mostly on the form of the button using the next (complicated to me) desk.
Dimensions as pulled from the Apple website Button sort 38mm (minimal) 42mm (minimum) Round 75 pixels 80 pixels Spherical rectangular 50 pixels high 52 pixels high
There look like no minimal management sizes for macOS, nor for its Contact Bar, although the Touch Bar most peak is 60 pixels, with 44 pixels advisable as the utmost peak for icons.
Pulled from the Hit Targets part of the UI Design Doâs and Donâts web page.
Microsoft
Microsoft offers tips for touch targets in Fluent, its design system, as 7.5mm sq., or 40 Ă 40 effective pixels (epx) on a 135 PPI display, at default zoom. This was a lower from 44 pixels (epx), which was the Common Home windows Platform commonplace prior to the Windows 10 October 2018 Update (version 1809).
The web page additionally outlines what to think about as you measurement touch controls:
Frequency of Touches â think about making targets which are repeatedly or often pressed larger than the minimum measurement.
Error Consequence â targets that have severe penalties if touched in error should have larger padding and be placed further from the edge of the content space. That is especially true for targets which are touched incessantly.
Position within the content area.
Type factor and display measurement.
Finger posture.
Contact visualizations.
These sizing standards will not be brand new in Fluent. When you return to 2017, youâll be able to see Microsoft advisable a minimum goal measurement of 60 pixels, or 11mm square, which included 2mm of padding to the subsequent target. Observe that right here it referred to targets, not touch targets.
Microsoftâs no-longer-current recommendation on the right track sizes, circa 2017..
Android
The Android Developer Guide recommends a minimum touch target of 48 Ă 48 system pixels. Unfortunately, this info is buried in the Accessibility section of the Greatest Practices portion of the guide as an alternative of alongside or embedded inside the documentation for constructing contact controls.
Google reinforces this sizing in the Net Fundamentals course in the part for accessible types. Along with noting that 48 gadget pixels is 9mm (which it asserts is the dimensions of an individualâs finger pad area), it also suggests an eight pixel hole between controls to attenuate mis-taps.
This image is from the Net Fundamentals course, not the Android Developer Information.
BBC
BBCâs Cellular Accessibility Tips are a set of standards for BBC staff and its suppliers when creating net or native content or apps. They defer to the Android and iOS platform tips for native apps and advocate a minimum 7mm touch target.
International Expertise Language (GEL) is BBCâs design system for all of its on-line presence. GEL recommends a minimum contact measurement of 7mm, with 5mm in special instances. For instances the place either dimension canât be 7mm, then it mandates a 5mm exclusion zone. It also supplies these dimensions in pixels â advisable 44 pixels with a 32 pixel minimum, and for particular instances a 24 pixel minimum.
One of the examples out there on the GEL website.
Nielsen Norman Group
Nielsen Norman Group recommends a touch goal measurement of 1cm (0.four inches). NNGs touch goal article cites research of finger sizes, references Fittsâ Regulation, and shares a number of examples. Itâs a good resource if itâs worthwhile to persuade others on your workforce of the significance of affordable sizes but who will not be interested within the platform tips nor the WCAG SC.
The article declines to offer pixel sizes. This is recognition of the variation of displayed physical pixel dimensions throughout units. That brings us again to the impracticality of holding a ruler to a display, not to mention holding a rule to each of a sampling of screens that correspond to your viewers.
Testing Reference
44 pixels may have totally different bodily sizes across units, even with no zooming applied. For example, 44 pixels on an iPad might be physically larger than 44 pixels on an iPad Mini, owing to them having the same pixel rely but in hardware with totally different display sizes.
You cannot be anticipated to seize a ruler and measure every system. Youâll be able to, nevertheless, create a reference field at that measurement and view it across units, evaluating it to the controls youâve in your design and making certain they are at the least that enormous. I made a 44px reference sq. and embedded it under.
See the Pen 44px Square for testing 2.5.5 Target Size by Adrian Roselli (@aardrian) on CodePen.
Wrapping it Up
For controls that may be activated by touch, with a pointer a stylus, or another physical gadget, ensure they are giant enough to hit simply and have enough lifeless area between them to assist avoid mis-clicks or mis-taps.
Even if WCAG AAA compliance isnât your objective, lean on the guidelines from locations who have been doing this some time and affirm those sizes work in your users of their contexts (akin to a pitching fishing trawler versus a front room Davenport).
44 pixels might be an excellent minimum, provided that it or a worth close to itâs persistently beneficial throughout specialists, requirements, and platforms.
The opening picture is from I Contact Myself by Divinyls, fronted by Chrissy Amphlett. In 2013 she died of breast most cancers and problems from a number of sclerosis and this track soon turned the anthem for the Australian breast cancer awareness challenge âI Touch Myself.â The U.S. Facilities for Disease Control has info on breast most cancers awareness.
Update: 10 June 2019
Shortly after posting, I used to be asked concerning the problem making footer links conform to WCAG 2.5.5. Patrick Lauke walks via a bit of the history of the SC and his final suggestion.
The overall argument Iâm making is much less about WCAG conformance and extra about making a usable interface whereas leaning on the teachings of past analysis and tips. However principally, in instances like this, ensure a consumer canât easily mis-tap the flawed thing however can still get to the factor you want.
Tags
accessibility, standards, usability, UX, W3C, WAI, WCAG
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Earlier submit: A Model for WordPress Accessibility
Newer submit: Scraping Burned Toast
The post Target Size and 2.5.5
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Target Size and 2.5.5 | Adrian Roselli
June eight, 2019; 5 Comments
TL;DR: No matter what accessibility conformance degree you target, attempt to make sure that interactive controls are at the least 44 by 44 pixels in measurement. Hyperlinks in blocks of textual content are exempt.
Overview
In real life thereâs sometimes both a visual and tactile element to an interface. Youâve got to be able to feel the button splits or ridges of your automotiveâs local weather management should you donât need to take your eyes off the street. Contact typing depends on sensing the F and J nubs (for U.S. English keyboards, at the very least) and the gaps between keys. Fumbling with a light-weight change at the hours of darkness is about sliding your hand across the wall.
With computer systems operating a graphical consumer interface (GUI), clicking a button or link is a matter of getting both a proxy on your finger or your finger itself into the fitting spot and not lacking. Youâll be able to swing a mouse pointer round a display with out clicking and nothing dangerous happens, but you canât drag your finger across your telephone to really feel the quantity pad. A stylus might do both, depending on the developerâs intent.
Actual life elements reminiscent of bumpy roads (as a passenger in a automotive, not a driver), palms sticky with ice cream, single-handed use of big shows, previous ball mice filled with desktop lint, or mobility impairments can make a graphical interface confounding to use. Luckily some individuals have been considering these challenges for quite a while.
Fittsâ Regulation
The GUIs we use immediately are informed each by expertise going back millennia and research that is a little more current. For example, in 1954 Fittsâ Regulation put to phrases one thing we might have have innately understood â the time to get to a goal is said to its distance from our start line and its measurement. The result of testing this with customers is that small targets end in larger error charges.
I am oversimplifying a bit, but the gist is that the world of interplay design has recognized concerning the need for bigger targets for longer than there has been a subject of interplay design, not to mention GUIs. Nevertheless, thereâs loads of proof that individual interplay designers perhaps do not know this.
Thatâs part of how we received to a state where we have to mandate bigger goal areas inside WCAG.
WCAG
WCAG 2.1 brought with it a couple of new success standards. 2.5.5 Target Size requires a goal space for a pointer interplay (touch or mouse, for example) to be 44 Ă 44 CSS pixels. This equates to a visual angle of about 0.9372 degrees, or no matter you get if you make a 44 pixel block and view it in your browser with default zoom.
There are exceptions:
If there is a duplicate or equal version of the control at the minimum measurement, then an occasion could be smaller;
If the control lives inside the move of a piece of textual content;
If itâs a default control from the browser with no types applied;
If its smaller measurement is important to accurately conveying info.
2.5.5 is a degree AAA success criterion, which suggests organizations concentrating on AA compliance (primarily all of them) are more likely to ignore it. Which is unlucky, given the potential benefit. Causes for why this was categorized at AAA are past the scope of this publish. Fortunately, there are platform tips and interface design names that advocate for a bigger goal measurement, unbiased of WCAG.
Apple
Apple offers design ideas for contact goal sizes throughout its units. For iOS, it recommends 44 points Ă 44 points (not pixels) at least.
For buttons on watchOS, Apple recommends totally different minimums based mostly on the form of the button using the next (complicated to me) desk.
Dimensions as pulled from the Apple website Button sort 38mm (minimal) 42mm (minimum) Round 75 pixels 80 pixels Spherical rectangular 50 pixels high 52 pixels high
There look like no minimal management sizes for macOS, nor for its Contact Bar, although the Touch Bar most peak is 60 pixels, with 44 pixels advisable as the utmost peak for icons.
Pulled from the Hit Targets part of the UI Design Doâs and Donâts web page.
Microsoft
Microsoft offers tips for touch targets in Fluent, its design system, as 7.5mm sq., or 40 Ă 40 effective pixels (epx) on a 135 PPI display, at default zoom. This was a lower from 44 pixels (epx), which was the Common Home windows Platform commonplace prior to the Windows 10 October 2018 Update (version 1809).
The web page additionally outlines what to think about as you measurement touch controls:
Frequency of Touches â think about making targets which are repeatedly or often pressed larger than the minimum measurement.
Error Consequence â targets that have severe penalties if touched in error should have larger padding and be placed further from the edge of the content space. That is especially true for targets which are touched incessantly.
Position within the content area.
Type factor and display measurement.
Finger posture.
Contact visualizations.
These sizing standards will not be brand new in Fluent. When you return to 2017, youâll be able to see Microsoft advisable a minimum goal measurement of 60 pixels, or 11mm square, which included 2mm of padding to the subsequent target. Observe that right here it referred to targets, not touch targets.
Microsoftâs no-longer-current recommendation on the right track sizes, circa 2017..
Android
The Android Developer Guide recommends a minimum touch target of 48 Ă 48 system pixels. Unfortunately, this info is buried in the Accessibility section of the Greatest Practices portion of the guide as an alternative of alongside or embedded inside the documentation for constructing contact controls.
Google reinforces this sizing in the Net Fundamentals course in the part for accessible types. Along with noting that 48 gadget pixels is 9mm (which it asserts is the dimensions of an individualâs finger pad area), it also suggests an eight pixel hole between controls to attenuate mis-taps.
This image is from the Net Fundamentals course, not the Android Developer Information.
BBC
BBCâs Cellular Accessibility Tips are a set of standards for BBC staff and its suppliers when creating net or native content or apps. They defer to the Android and iOS platform tips for native apps and advocate a minimum 7mm touch target.
International Expertise Language (GEL) is BBCâs design system for all of its on-line presence. GEL recommends a minimum contact measurement of 7mm, with 5mm in special instances. For instances the place either dimension canât be 7mm, then it mandates a 5mm exclusion zone. It also supplies these dimensions in pixels â advisable 44 pixels with a 32 pixel minimum, and for particular instances a 24 pixel minimum.
One of the examples out there on the GEL website.
Nielsen Norman Group
Nielsen Norman Group recommends a touch goal measurement of 1cm (0.four inches). NNGs touch goal article cites research of finger sizes, references Fittsâ Regulation, and shares a number of examples. Itâs a good resource if itâs worthwhile to persuade others on your workforce of the significance of affordable sizes but who will not be interested within the platform tips nor the WCAG SC.
The article declines to offer pixel sizes. This is recognition of the variation of displayed physical pixel dimensions throughout units. That brings us again to the impracticality of holding a ruler to a display, not to mention holding a rule to each of a sampling of screens that correspond to your viewers.
Testing Reference
44 pixels may have totally different bodily sizes across units, even with no zooming applied. For example, 44 pixels on an iPad might be physically larger than 44 pixels on an iPad Mini, owing to them having the same pixel rely but in hardware with totally different display sizes.
You cannot be anticipated to seize a ruler and measure every system. Youâll be able to, nevertheless, create a reference field at that measurement and view it across units, evaluating it to the controls youâve in your design and making certain they are at the least that enormous. I made a 44px reference sq. and embedded it under.
See the Pen 44px Square for testing 2.5.5 Target Size by Adrian Roselli (@aardrian) on CodePen.
Wrapping it Up
For controls that may be activated by touch, with a pointer a stylus, or another physical gadget, ensure they are giant enough to hit simply and have enough lifeless area between them to assist avoid mis-clicks or mis-taps.
Even if WCAG AAA compliance isnât your objective, lean on the guidelines from locations who have been doing this some time and affirm those sizes work in your users of their contexts (akin to a pitching fishing trawler versus a front room Davenport).
44 pixels might be an excellent minimum, provided that it or a worth close to itâs persistently beneficial throughout specialists, requirements, and platforms.
The opening picture is from I Contact Myself by Divinyls, fronted by Chrissy Amphlett. In 2013 she died of breast most cancers and problems from a number of sclerosis and this track soon turned the anthem for the Australian breast cancer awareness challenge âI Touch Myself.â The U.S. Facilities for Disease Control has info on breast most cancers awareness.
Update: 10 June 2019
Shortly after posting, I used to be asked concerning the problem making footer links conform to WCAG 2.5.5. Patrick Lauke walks via a bit of the history of the SC and his final suggestion.
The overall argument Iâm making is much less about WCAG conformance and extra about making a usable interface whereas leaning on the teachings of past analysis and tips. However principally, in instances like this, ensure a consumer canât easily mis-tap the flawed thing however can still get to the factor you want.
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accessibility, standards, usability, UX, W3C, WAI, WCAG
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The post Target Size and 2.5.5
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