"When people ask me 'How was your summer' or 'What did you do this summer', I'll be honest, I don't know what to tell them. The closest I have to say is 'I had the privilege to have the most exciting summer of my life with my grand uncle in Oregon'. Now, I now what you might be thinking- 'How is that exciting? Sounds like any other boring family trip', right? Well, you'd be wrong. I was lucky; lucky just being there this summer, seeing things that no one else has seen in their lives, fighting for truth and justice, and even falling in love."
The author of this written paragraph, a teenage boy with brown eyes, sat in front of his computer in his room. Leaning back from reading it for the fourth time, he snorted quietly. With a deflated sigh, he shook his head. Something about what he saw clearly rubbed him the wrong way.
"It sounds conceited," Dipper Pines, the less than proud writer groaned as he instantly deleted the entire paragraph without hesitation. Staring at the now blank white screen before him, he placed his chin upon a hand, and laid his arm against the desk. "Just when I thought that sixth grade was demeaning," he mumbled, "seventh comes in for the wind up: aaand it's more stupid 'how was your summer' work."
Dipper Pines was a boy of thirteen. He wasn't exactly tall for his age, but he wouldn't let people talk him down from being at least of average height. He was right in the middle of standard young teen image, but lacked any physical finesse, making up for it in willpower and sharp intellect. His brown curly hair tucked under his hat, a blue and white baseball cap he got while at his stay with his uncle sat atop his head. Emblazoned upon the front of the rather cheaply made cap was a single blue pine tree.
The young Pine had not been home from school for a even a full hour when he decided he would begin writing his assignment from the day. Habit prompted him to begin the work as soon as possible, and despite being a 'lame topic', he found himself slaving away before a monitor light lit keyboard in his dark room.
Summer had come and gone. What he could only describe as the greatest time of his entire twelve years of life were over. Battles against zombies, assisting mermen escape pools, and a conspiracy for the ages wrapped tightly in family drama tied together intriguingly to become his fondest memories yet. Fondest, assuming he could ever let down the consistent trauma and terror that each of those golden memories carried. Now, back in his home town, life was grey and flat by a long shot comparison. He even wondered if the normal people in Piedmont had secrets at all, let alone conspiracies. This life was totally dull, and he felt each hour pass turn him towards lethargy.
As he dazed about the weeks before, a sudden shout from below in his home shook the floor. He turned and looked to the door, where he knew a hallway connected to an overlook to the living room and staircase. Dipper frowned worriedly, thinking as to what topic the shouts from below could be. He shook his head.
"It... isn't my business," he repeated to himself for the third time that evening. He turned from his computer, seeing a single framed picture on the desk. There, looking at him was his own face, a wrinkled and large nosed old man with faded grey hair with a fishing cap, and, of course-
"DIPPERSAUCE!" a girl shouted as she nearly kicked in the door, splashing light into the room.
Dipper blinked and turned to the injection of chaos to his personal abode. "Mabel?" he asked.
"Yes, lord of dark bedrooms, Dipper the sullen," Mabel snickered as she skipped into his room and leapt onto his bed. She wore her favorite purple sweater, stitched with a shooting star and rainbow tail tracing behind it.
Dipper grumbled as she climbed onto his bed and rolled about. "Hey, don't-" he started.
"Don't what?" she grinned, and kicked her shoes off on his bed. She was almost identical the twin of Dipper Pines. Barely a millimeter taller than her brother, she was endlessly energetic and bouncy, incapable of the following the phrase 'calm down'. Where Dipper owned sense of respect for the cerebral, she was a proud owner of a pig, and somehow, a member of the united states congress- at least according to the eighth and a half president.
"C'mon, Mabel," Dipper groaned," your feet sweat like twice as much as mine do."
"All the fun I make creates fun-residue. Your bed could use some!" she told him as her braces shined from the light from the hallway, smiling cheekily at her brother. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer. "What are you doing on the computer already?" she asked, "Don't you want to... like, search for a gnome or something? I think our neighbor's garden gnomes are spies. Maybe they're connected with Jeff... agents of stealth, in our neighbors backyards..." Mabel added in a serious undertone, looking at the blinds-covered window.
"I have homework," Dipper told her with authority.
"Whaaat?" she exclaimed, flipping herself to be upside down, dangling off his bed, "since when do you get homework the first day of class?"
"Since now; since seventh grade. You do too you know," he turned in his chair to remind her," and you won't be able to get me to write this one for you."
"Boo!" she stuck out her tongue at him, and quickly fell off the bed and flat onto the floor. "Your carpet smells like pain."
"It would, since you jammed into it, nose-first. Mabel," Dipper fully faced her in his chair," come on, you need to do your work too." Mabel rolled around on his carpet, seeming to ignore his words. After a few rolls back and forth, Dipper asked," and... what exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
"Enough static to singe your hair?" she asked, stopping briefly to plead innocent.
"I doubt you're going to zap anything. Probably can't generate enough for even a small discharge," Dipper said as he laid the trap. Mabel was only too eager to prove him wrong. On cue, Mabel poked her cheek and winced as she was quickly zapped from the inside of her mouth.
"OW! Dang braces," she rubber her cheek as Dipper laughed at her. "C'mon! Its boring here," Mabel rolled her eyes, trying to get Dipper to change his stance.
"It's boring out there too," Dipper told her," this isn't like Gravity Falls. We're in a normal town with normal people now. I think the most exciting thing is one of our neighbors speaks Portuguese. What... what is there to do out there that's exciting, exactly?"
"We can stare at squirrels!" Mabel told him," Make them feel like they're being watched."
"And why would that be a good idea?" Dipper asked after a moment to stare at her.
"It's only fair we return the favor," Mabel muttered, danger lurking in her every word. Dipper spun away from her, not enthused about her ideas of fun. "Oh, c'mon bro!" she pleaded.
"Why are you so desperate? Just do your work; it'll get itself done quickly if you just set yourself to it. And don't say you can't, I know you can!" Dipper said from facing his now blank document.
"I... I can't focus," She admitted.
"Why not?" Dipper asked in frustration.
"It's loud downstairs," Mabel quietly said. The tone and volume shook Dipper to the core: one of trepidation. He knew that voice too well, and spun quickly to look at her. She was looking to the still ajar door, her eyes sad and distant in her thoughts.
"What... what is it?" Dipper asked gently, getting off his chair and coming to sit next to her.
"They're being loud again... I heard what they're talking about, Dip," Mabel said, positively dead in her voice.
"You- but- they...it's not our business, right?" Dipper stated aloud. He watched his sister almost cringe, and looked away from the door, and spin away from her twin brother. "Hey, it can't be that bad, right?" Mabel had turned entirely away from her brother, wrapping her arms around her legs, and tucking herself deep in her sweater. Dipper was truly concerned with her now, and first got up to close the door. Once it sealed shut, he walked to have his back against the bed frame, and slid down to face Mabel.
"What did you hear?" he asked her gently.
"I don't want to talk about it. Let's just leave the house and go make our own adventures, okay? Let's go find something stupid to make fun of!" Mabel asked desperately. Dipper shook his head. "Why not?!"
"This isn't like we can just run to Grunkle Stan for help. This is home, and it'll wait for us here, whatever it is. Even if its... not... great. Mabel," Dipper tried again, stronger, but still maintaining his tenderness," what did you hear?"
A rumble of voices, familiar to the two of them shook the floor. Dipper gasped and glanced at the door, shocked at the escalation growing below.
"I..." Mabel said, her voice mildly shaking," I think mom and dad are going to break up."
Dipper heard her and could not comprehend an appropriate response. He was one of the better thinkers of his year in school, and all the evidence that he had accumulated pointed to Mabel's thought. Their mom and dad, since the moment they came to pick them up at the bus stop, had an air of strain hovering over them. Dipper had discounted the tension for the sake of not having seen them for three months. They could have just been tired...
Then the arguments began. They were subtle at first, but grew stronger and more personal each time. Dipper, in the two weeks they had been back, had locked himself in his room to avoid the dangers of arguments below. Mabel had tried, forever the optimist, weathering the storm. Dipper wasn't sure anymore if their parents got along that much. He even wondered if they had been shipped to Grunkle Stans' for the pure reason to avoid possible problems and seeing the parents argue through the summer. He almost wanted to ask Stan if he knew anything about this.
Another burst of sound echoed to their position, in the dark room. Mabel whimpered sadly as she lowered her head slowly. Dipper looked to his sister, unsure of what to say.
"You... I think you may be right," Dipper could only manage.
"They can't!" Mabel looked up, tears in her eyes as she shouted at her brother. "This is supposed to be a happy family!"
"Mabel, quiet down! They could hear-" Dipper tried saying quickly, but she slammed her fist against the floor.
"What's going to happen to us if mom and dad split, huh!?" She demanded to her brother, who was agape without a clue.
"I don't know anything about that! I never wanted to know anything about divorce law!" Dipper said with more strength and volume. "I don't know."
"This isn't FAIR!" Mabel stood up, and charged for the door. "We should be coming back home to a happy family!"
"Wait, MABEL!" Dipper called after her as she stormed out while crying uncontrollably. He sat there, alone on his carpet and at a loss to thought. His fears, collecting with the thoughts of his sisters pain, left a gaping hole in his chest that he couldn't avoid anymore. His life here, home, his family, it could change for the worse. It was changing for the worse.
"Hey," a quiet and soft voice belonging to his father asked through a crack in the door, just out of sight, "you two okay?"
"Yeah, we're just doing great dad, thanks," Dipper called back, sarcasm dripping through his trembling voice.
"Uh... okay, just... we can talk with you if, you, er, you want to," his father asked from outside.
"Let them be," Dippers mother called, slightly further away than his father from the door, perhaps standing upon the stairs.
"I'm fine," Dipper stood up, and firmly closed the door, "I'm just going to go to sleep. Goodnight."
This was entirely a lie. Dipper knew that he, and his twin sister, would be laying in bed all night, dreading the coming days. He leaned back against his pillow, shaking his head, blaming himself. Maybe, had he just gone with Mabel to do something silly outdoors, they could have held this off a bit longer, and this life he knew wouldn't be crashing around him. He could have had that security, maybe, of a bit more comfort.
As his eyes welled up he, he muttered, "That's just a lie too."
Two years and eight months pass...
A lone teenager walked down a peaceful street in Citrus Heights. A hand held to his ear and a bounce in his step, he was excited for the coming weeks ahead and he spoke animatedly into his phone while his other hand swept through his curly brown hair.
"And he was really excited about my fictional work too," Dipper Pines, age fifteen told his mother on the phone.
"Really? About time someone noticed your talent for mystery and paranormal stories," his mom replied.
"I mean, I guess I just had to go back and edit a few crazy things out to make the story more believable," Dipper rolled his eyes, "but he was shocked I hadn't taken it to a publisher yet."
"Mister Dugood said that?" his mom asked, "I did have a good feeling about him at the parent teacher conference this year."
"Yeah, so I'll be home in a bit, so I'll talk to you more about it then, okay?" Dipper asked.
"Of course! Great job with school this year. Stay safe!" His mom hung up, and he flipped his phone away with a sigh.
"Work of fiction. Huh," he puffed in a jabbing spout of breath, "I guess that's all I can relate to anyone, at least about that kind of stuff," Dipper sighed as he passed under a blooming orange tree, its wonderfully sweet scents all but ignored by Dipper Pines. He had, after all, moved here more than two years ago with his mother, and the scent was little to anything more than part of the scenery.
"Who cares," Dipper shrugged off the idea of his past romances with the unknown from his mind, "Mom, you may think you fooled your son about the gift, but I know too well your late night purchase a few weeks ago. It HAS to be today!"
"Yeah! Today!" an elderly man cheered back, pointing his walking stick into the air. "Carpe Diem, suckers!"
"Exactly, Mister Himmerfield," Dipper gave the man two pointers with his fingers as he crossed the street, "today, I get my first car!"
"Yeah! Automated transportation!" Mr. Himmerfield cheered back.
"No more walking for this guy!" Dipper did a little turn about, leaning against a white picket fence in his eternal glory of knowing his coming present from his mother. "Sweet, sweet gasoline, road laws, and pedestrian rights!"
"I'm legally blind!" Mr. Himmerfield shouted with as much enthusiasm as he vanished down the street. "I have to walk forever! Forever!"
"... yeah! Uh... right," Dipper watched his audience support haunch away slowly. He turned away from the strange old man who lived in his neighborhood, and continued towards his home. His book bag jumping about his back as he jogged, he rounded a fence to the front walkway to his house, and there was his mom.
She had shoulder length thick brown hair and big brown eyes which struggled to contain her excitement. Dipper contained himself, walking as casually as he could until she whipped towards the garage and pushed a small button in her hand. The doors raised, revealing a new shining car; even more recent aa model than Dipper had expected. He dropped his book bag to the earth and fell to his knees.
"To the powers that be, you have made this day," he roared to the heavens," AWESOME!"
"The powers that be are happy to appease," Dippers mom came over and pulled her son to his feet and gave him a strong hug.
"Mom!" Dipper struggled to be released, and she did so after a moment, letting her son charge to his new car.
"It's a Crescendo- a bit older of a car than I would have liked to gotten you- but the safety rating is a great," Dippers mother realized he was smiling at her with a satisfied, yet cocky, grin. "You must have known, didn't you?" she asked as he carefully looked over the surface of the black car, capable of sitting five. It had fewer curves and more flat surfaces, but it held the grace of an older car but with the functionality of a new model.
"You're not good a hiding things," Dipper reminded her, "what exactly did you expect when I saw you hurrying to cover this with a dirty rag when I came home last week? A Bison was under there?"
"Psh, I had you fooled," she denied his achievement to notice such things, "and remember- technically this belongs to the family until you're of age. Right?"
"No joyrides without your consent, gotcha," Dipper turned his head just barely to speak to her, as his eyes were busy drinking in as much of the car as possible.
"Maybe you should call your dad, let him know that you can come see him whenever you'd like?" his mom suggested after a moment of him inspecting the car through the windows.
"Nah, it'll be a surprise," Dipper sighed as he watched himself bend and reflect in the curves of the windows, "oh my god, thank you so much mom!"
"Well, keep those grades up! Top of the class in, everything?" She smiled as she shook her head, "I only wish I had gotten such a brain when I was your age."
"No, seriously," Dipper turned, and charged into a hug with his mom, "thank you so much!" She gasped at his collision and laughed. A phone then rang from inside the house.
"Well, you enjoy this first of many steps towards adulthood and the responsibilities that come with it," his mom said as she stepped away and entered the house," I'll see who is calling. Maybe they'll care you can drive now?" she chuckled.
"Someone older, I bet, if they're calling landline," Dipper guessed. As the front door closed behind his mother, he did consider calling his dad. He hadn't spoken to him for a long time, long enough to wonder what Mabel was up to.
The thought of his sister brought a wave of shame to his gut. The two had an unspoken falling out, coupled by distance and the introduction of high-school. Dipper knew his sister wasn't nearly as competent as he was with academics, and worried if she was struggling. The thought passed that maybe he should call. Maybe better, drive down to Piedmont to say hi to the two, and more importantly, brag his new ride. It was too good of a thought.
His reality check crushed his dreams. The trip was long enough away, and he wasn't sure he was comfortable to drive alone on the highways. He had done it before, sure, but to travel to his dads and Mabels at the same time made him feel nervous. He would just send them an excited email later, maybe.
Dipper heard the door creak open, and he turned to his mother. Her excitement had all been drained from her face. He knew immediately that whatever she had to say wasn't good news.
"Mom? What's up?" he asked, the nervous look in her eyes infecting him.
"It's... your Grand Uncle, Stan?" she started, "he just passed away."
The numbness that took over his body had Dipper nearly fall against his brand new car. His mother made to help him, but he slid to a seat against the wheel of his brand new ride. Static filled his ears and his skin prickled with uncertainty. He couldn't have heard what she just said. He had heard it...
"What... what do you mean he passed away? Did he move away from Gravity Falls?" he asked her, yet not looking at her.
"He died last night," his mother said sadly, sitting down in front of him, as he breathed deeply.
His mind raced out of control. The energy he held to minutes previously now battled the horrible pit of feeling that pierce him like a bolt of lightning. He... was gone? The unstoppable, unflinching, miser and con man, loving Grunkle Stan died. Dipper couldn't begin to understand how he was supposed to feel about this news. He supposed in his head that he aught to feel sad, but it was as the ability to be sad, to act sad, was not physically possible.
"Someone by the name of Northwest sent a message to us- you, that you are mentioned in the will of your Grand Uncle," she tried explaining, very aware of the incredible stress she had unleashed onto her once celebrating son.
"I..." Dipper searched his brain for anything to do, say, act on. It was his strongest, most reliable feature. Yet it failed him, here and now. In desperation, he looked elsewhere in his being, and found in his heart and gut a joint answer. Raising his head from the mild slant he had adopted, he looked his mother in the eye. "I'm going to Gravity Falls," he told her.
"But, don't you have a summer job lined up at Pizza-Asteroids?" His mom asked as he stood up, and started to walk inside.
"I'll let them know this came up. Mom, this is important," he told her as he turned towards the hallway leading to his room. Entering his space, he began grabbing his necessary ingredients for travel- extra clothing, washing supplies, toothpaste.
"Well... I'm not going to stop you," his mom sighed and he gave her a look.
"I agree with you. I think this is important. I'll even get some money for you from the kitchen," she said and she turned away towards the other side of the house.
It only took Dipper a quick few minutes to find enough for him to say he was ready to pack. He lifted his bag up, and spotted a mirror in his room. It showed the scruff signs of a chin with stubble, and his thick brown hair without his hat, as wearing them was banned at his school. With one last turn back to his dresser, he reached up and brought down to his head an old baseball cap he hadn't worn in quite some time.
"Ugh, a little tight," he groaned, and undid the back strap a little, and it slid on easier," there."
With his hat atop his head and two suitcases in his hands, he made for his new car. Outside, his mom waited, looking worriedly as she observed him approach the trunk of the car. She popped it open for him with a click of a button from the electronic keys, and Dipper calmly placed his suitcases inside. With a long sigh, he closed the trunk, and turned to his mom. The final clearing before he departed had to come from her.
"Here," she said, and held out they keys for him. He gave them only one glance, and took them from her.
"Mom... thanks," he said with a faint smile.
"Just be careful," she warned him, "You were just twelve when you were there, so things may have changed from how you remember them."
"They already have," he said strongly, as he walked to the driver side, and opened the door. The feeling of taking the steering wheel was more than enough for him to shake any second thoughts or doubts from his mind. He stepped in and closed the door. It would not open until he reached Gravity Falls, all the way in Oregon. "Mabel, you better show up."
A front door in a house slammed open in a Sacramento suburbs, revealing a young woman with curly brown hair, and marvelously straight teeth. "Dad! I have returned from my glorious campaign against my ancient rival; school!" Mabel Pines called out as she entered her home. She quickly dropped her school bag to the floor, and strode to the couch in the living room. The fifteen year old wore one of her trademarked loose fitting sweaters. Her long brown hair tried up in a lose fitting ponytail, she strode into her home with absolute and total ease.
"How was the last day?" and older male voice, belonging to her dad, called from the kitchen.
"No one survived my onslaught," she grimly said.
"Right. I guess that means you think you did well?" her dad asked with a hint of caution. Mabel laughed manically and turned on the television. She picked briefly at her teeth, showing the bright and metal-less chompers. "You can worry a parent sometimes, you know that."
"Worry? Why worry when you can conquer the world," she said as she channel surfed. Her long brown hair fell to the mid of her back, and was currently half covering her face. She pouted at the lack of good television, finding nothing but news on missing archaeologists and bands of rising popularity. "Where's all the great cartoons?" she grumbled.
"So, you're not going to tell me about your grade card?" Mister Pines said as he walked into the room, wringing off water from his hands with a hand towel. He had short brown hair and a thoughtful look about his eyes, like he was always in concentration or deep thought.
"I don't wanna, that's boring. But I had a great time with my SENSEI!" she bellowed triumphantly, beating her chest like a gorilla while making accompanying sounds.
"Miss Hirsh and you had a good practice?" Mabels dad asked as he sat down next to her, stole the remote, and put on the news, which was addressing the stocks of a company called 'Steindorf and Co'.
"She thinks I'm improving fast, or whatever," Mabel blew off her accreditation easily, "and we've established that I'm probably fire and air of the paths, so I can begin my focuses soon, but you know that's just because we're like super tight. Martial arts master and pupil- don't even come between," she admitted as blasé as she could manage.
"You know, I was a little weirded out with your interest, but I have to admit," he defended her, "it's sensible. I like the idea of you learning a style of self-defense that works towards who you are."
"Pshwa, self defense," she snickered," it's just going to help me defeat my greatest foe yet, Bethany Mills, and her waaaay too dark hair."
"That girl giving you trouble still?" her dad asked with a quick look of concern.
"Yeah right, emo girls don't fight, they just speak badly of you in," she dropped her tone to be more menacing and fatigued, "darker tones to appease our master of darkness." Her father laughed with her, and she nearly fell off the couch.
"Hey, I think it' time I showed you something. Get up kiddo," her dad told her as he stood up.
"If its another crazy computer gizmo, I'm going to fall asleep on it," Mabel warned her father, but was interested when he turned to the back door, leading to their backyard," wait... what's that lumpy thingy under the stained sheets?"
Her father turned and placed his hands against her shoulders, silently telling her to remain still. Instantly, the possibilities of what awaited underneath the large sheet, probably an animal of some sort she was wishing of. Since Waddles got too big and was sent to a petting Zoo to appease the hearts of similar girls like Mabel, she had longed for another pet. Her father grasped the sheets and tugged strongly. A burst of light caught her eyes, and she blinked.
"A... bike?" she asked with uncertainty.
"It's the Insurgent, from a few years back. I knew you wouldn't want a car, so might as well go with one of these bad boys, and since you already have that little license, or at least one fake enough to convince me you actually passed the test. So, what do you think?"
"It's cool! So, does that mean you're trading your old car for this bike? I didn't know you were into pink. I really like the color, though," Mabel said with fascination. Her dad gave her a strong look and confident smile, and shook his head. The clockwork of Mabel's mind clicked suddenly, and her thoughts finally understood what was happening. Her mouth dropped open like a brick falling from a ledge.
"I think you got it," her dad chuckled.
"I-I-I- It's mine!?" she starting hopping in place.
"Yup. As long as you promise me you won't go and tell your mom about it. Or get pulled over, because I'm not sure you're legally supposed to be riding these until you're eighteen. So-"
Mabel tackled her father in the midriff, knocking the wind out of him, and began to chant a combination of "Thank you!" and "I love it!" in such a fury that words began to mix and switch around and she eventually became unintelligible. Her father laughed and tried prying her off. She quieted down, and held on tighter.
"Mabel, I think you're cutting off blood from my legs," her dad told her after a moment.
"Not. Letting. Go. You have to earn hugs for what you gave me," she said sternly. A phone rang in the house.
"Mabel, I need to get that, it could be work," her dad told her, but she refused to let go. After an attempt to shake her off with a quick jump, he did several hoola-hoops using her, and she slid off and landed near her new bike. "Don't go anywhere with it!" he scolded her as she hungrily approached the bike.
"You ask the impossible, sir," she greedily said as she approached the shining and well conditioned bike. Her ultimate excitement reflected back to her as she stared the chrome and pink metal that covered the back. Its seat and handles gave it the air of motor-bikes of old, more for an upright position than leaning forward or back. She knew exactly what her next purchase would be- matching pink sunglasses, to give the 'bad girl' vibe.
"Oh you and me," she said, pulling the bike close to her face, "we are going to be close friends. Like, maybe soul mates. But you have to contribute to this relationship too, you know. I won't just... let you..." she stared into the shininess of the bike, and almost began to drool, "you are perfect."
"Mabel," a voice called from the door.
"One second," she replied in a hushed voice, "this moment should last forever."
"It's, um, it's about Uncle Stan," Mister Pines said.
"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel spun and stood up from the bike, excitement floating through her even more. Her mood was quickly and coldly drenched by the look her father had across his face. He seemed deflated, even more than he was in comparison to his daughter. "Dad?" she asked quietly.
"Uh, he's... Mabel, last night, in his sleep, he passed away," her dad began, struggling for words, "and your name has been mentioned in the will, so the 'Northwests' are calling you for a copy of his will."
"Wait... Grunkle Stan is dead?" she asked. Her father nodded, sadness creeping on his face. Mabel considered the possibility for a moment, that the man she had spent an entire summer with may have actually left her behind. Then she snorted. "Yeah right!" Mabel laughed aloud, stunning her father.
"Mabel?" he asked, his mouth agape.
"If I know good 'ol Grunkle Stan, he's probably just tired of lifting boxes and cleaning the windows on his own, and this is some sort of stunt to get me to come back and help him out," Mabel reasoned aloud.
"Mabel!" her dad almost shouted, "this is serious! The local authorities confirmed it. He's really gone."
"But... nah," Mabel blew off the idea again. However, as she rejected the idea for a second time, a clever response came time mind. "I think I need to go prove that he's alive."
"You- what?!" Mister Pines blustered as Mabel charged so fast into the house it was like a blur, and returned with a half-filled backpack.
"I just have to make sure I pack my extra sweaters, cus it can get cold, even up in-" Mabel ran back inside for a moment, and reappeared with art supplies, and began to cram them inside her large backpack, "and beside, maybe now that I'm fifteen, he will have to pay me if I do help out with-" she ran inside again after shoving the art stuff away, and then re-emerged with more clothing piles, more befitting that of a martial artists robes, "because let's just face it, he may be an old geezer, but he has no sense of-"
"MABEL!" her dad finally burst out, stunning her daughter to a freeze. He breathed heavily for a moment, staring at her incredulously. That tone hadn't been heard for quite some time. Mabel knew she had to try once more.
"Dad," she pleaded quietly, "let me go to him. I know he's not gone."
"How can you be sure? Being dead isn't exactly something you can just disprove," her dad argued. She shrugged.
"And besides," Mabel stood up with the overstuffed and barely closed backpack, "I know Dipper will be there."
"... you think so?" he asked her with a tad more ease than before.
"I know it. One of those nutty twin-things, right?" she grinned at her dad. He shook his head, giving the impression he was not entirely cool with the idea of letting his daughter go alone for a long trip. Something in his defiance relented, and he sighed.
"I couldn't stop you, short from locking you up and tying you down," he warned her as he extended his hand with they keys and dropped them into her own outstretched hands.
"Like that would stop me," she smiled and hugged her father, "it would only slow me down."
"Well, get going before I smarten up and actually do tie you down and stop you," her dad said with a tired grin. With a wide beaming smile, she nodded at him. She leapt for the bike, and landed gracefully. A moment later, after pulling out her standard sunglasses from her backpack, she checked herself in the mirrors.
"Certified badass," she nodded with a straight face and started the engines. Sadly, before her father could get the fence gate open for her to exit, she put the gas on, and in a split second, crashed through the wooden pallets, crashing half the fence. Dogs barked from the distance as she hit the ground, rolling about and avoiding any real harm. Getting up and dusting herself off, she briefly looked back to the damage to the fence she caused. With a hiss like grimace, she realized she had utterly destroyed it.
"... Mabel," her father growled, furthering her haste onto the temporarily crashed bike.
"I'll fix it when I come back!" she shouted as she soared off onto the street, nearly hitting a parked car as she sped. Her dad was seen in the mirror of her bike, and she watched him watch her until she turned down a new street. Scouting ahead, she spotted signs for the highway from the suburbia she lived in.
"Gravity Falls, here I..." she stopped her bike for a split moment, sliding to a halt. Fortune favored her, as the street was empty aside from her. She rummaged through her backpack for one object, and without ever looking inside, pulled out an older photo of herself and her brother, Dipper, goofing at the camera. If there had been any doubt in her heart, seeing their smiling faces from almost three years ago pierced the veil. She was ready.
"...Here we come," she grinned confidently, and sped on out with a wild swerve. No sooner had she done so than she accidentally ran over a tin trash can as she sped away. "SORRY!" she called back to the owner of the trash can, who huffed out and cursed at her while she vanished down the street.
Hello readers, friends new and old! Welcome to my newest story, simply 'The Return to Gravity Falls'!
I hope you're as excited to read this as I was to write it, because this is going to be one wild story. So, before I let this prologue end, I want to establish a few things.
First, for my old friends, this isn't going to one of my usual stories- so action and adventure will be playing more towards the discovery and mystery than the fighting- but don't think for a moment that means there won't be any! Gravity Falls is a dangerous place, after all.
Second, this story will be updated bi-weekly and the structure of the story will be built like a show-season. What that means is that every two chapters will serve as a singular 'episode', otherwise I would have to update every three weeks or so, and that just wont do.
Third, to the great fans of Gravity Falls, like me :), I want to establish a 'canon' policy. The actual series is still going strong, and the end is no where in sight. So, I intend to make this story as canon as much as I possibly can, but I can only correctly predict so much. So, there will be a lot of deliberate ambiguity and vagueness towards the end of the pine-twins first stay at Gravity Falls, and that is intentional.
And Finally, for those of you wondering about the angst (especially if you know me) they're teens, for Pete's sake. Angst will rear its head a bit in the beginning of this series, but I promise you once the story settles down to rest at Gravity Falls, we'll get that quirky and wonderful story vibe that Alex Hirsch has worked very hard to create. That is, until later later. Then, WOAH, buckle up, kiddies.
Phew! Talk about a long author note. Maybe I talked to much, but I'm really anxious to make this story work. I have a strong love for anything that can pull my fascination with the unknown and the strong bond of people in unpredictable situations like Gravity Falls.
So, see you guys in two weeks for the first half of episode one, 'Summer, Idle No More', or if you are subscribed to me, check in this Friday for HSWC!
Tsurt on eno.