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@mystery-mullet
Rules, etc.
While this is an RP blog based on a Gravity Falls character -- Minors DNI. This is not an RP blog for children.
The mun is 35+ and is not interested in RPing with anyone under 18, regardless of the content of the RP.
This RP blog is primarily focused on the life of Stanley Pines pre-Mystery Shack. I may choose to RP Grunkle-era Stan, too, but it is not the main focus.
I am happy to answer asks.
The rest of my rules are under the cut.
Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
"Oh, and you trusted me? What a fool."
"All this time you've been hunting, and I've always been here. Right next to you."
"I'm your friend, remember? Who cares if I killed them. I'm your friend."
"Oh, sweet, innocent thing."
"Of course it was me. You're blind to it all."
"I've been here the whole time."
"And did you really think anyone believed you?"
"I'm sorry. But I have to do this."
"I was never really your friend. You just fell for it all."
"Love you? No. I never loved you."
"You're as stupid as your morals."
"Say goodbye. You won't get another opportunity."
"I'm sorry. But ... well, I guess I'm not, really."
"Why did you ever believe in me?"
"This is how it is, how it always was going to be. And I t hink you kn ew that, really, didn't you?"
"I'm always up for a drink. I know a few good bars around here, unless you already had a place in mind?"
Sucked that she couldn't be more helpful, but she didn't mind giving him some company for a while. He seemed interesting anyway.
"Hey, I'm not going to pass up recommendations from a local," Stan said with a smile. If she knew some good bars, he might as go well go along with that. It sure beat wandering around pretending to know where he was. He'd had enough of that, lately.
Well, she wasn't so much a local as a semi-regular in town. Hard to be a local anywhere these days when your home was a spaceship. But there wasn't a need to split hairs just yet.
Ricky takes the lead, navigating a short walk to plain looking bar. "Doesn't look like much," Ricky said, stepping through the door, "but the glasses are always clean and they make some decent food if you're hungry."
Stan's stomach growled as if on cue. Shit. He glanced down at his own stomach, then back up at her. "Not gonna say no to decent food and clean glasses."
"Hey! You can't just--" The guy stops short, dropping the hand he was pointing with to his side. "Shit, this again. You're not him. You're *definitely* not him. Sorry, lady. I thought you were someone else." (mystery-mullet)
Riquel quirks her unibrow up at him, confused and a little curious. "Yeah, no shit, I have no idea who you are. Guessing you're looking f-for a specific Rick..?"
Stan heaves a sigh, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and looking down at the ground, "Yeah. Sorry, miss, I didn't mean anything by it." He makes a sort of helpless gesture, "He owes me money."
"Hmph." Riquel looks the man over, a somewhat unconvinced look on her face.
"Must be a helluva lotta money f-for you to be randomly jumping in portals trying to f-find him. You know how dangerous the multiverse is, don't you?"
"Yeah, that's... a problem," Stan frets with his hands in front of him. "I didn't want to be jumping in portals! My nerdy brother can be blamed for that."
'He owes me money' was usually a good enough excuse for why you were looking for someone. Clearly, it didn't fly the same here.
for my stanrickers out there
"Infinite possibilities, baby. There's a lot of you out there, they just haven't invented dimensional travel," Cy laughs and puts a hand on his hip. "I'm Rick, obviously, but I go by Cy. There is too many other Ricks in my life, it gets confusing," He looks the man over, "So... you need something? Why are you looking for a Rick?"
"Cy it is," Stan says, glad to have another name for the man in front of him. Infinite possibilities and dimensional travel sounded like something that his brother would trip all over himself to talk to the guy about. And here Stan was, having a casual conversation.
"He owes me money," Stan tells Cy. It was a bit more complicated than that, but strangers didn't need every last detail -- even if they looked and sounded familiar.
"I'm always up for a drink. I know a few good bars around here, unless you already had a place in mind?"
Sucked that she couldn't be more helpful, but she didn't mind giving him some company for a while. He seemed interesting anyway.
"Hey, I'm not going to pass up recommendations from a local," Stan said with a smile. If she knew some good bars, he might as go well go along with that. It sure beat wandering around pretending to know where he was. He'd had enough of that, lately.
"Stan.. huh... Can't say I've heard the name before..." He mused mostly to himself then looked at the older gentleman. "So ... You thought I was someone ? Who ya looking for ? " He asked as he watched them closely.
"Rick," Stan supplies with somewhat of a helpless laugh. "Lot of good that does me, huh? I don't know shit about him, only that there seems to be a thousand of him. He owes me money." It was a little more complicated than that, and he knew more than he claimed to... but that could wait.
"I'm kinda picking up that everyone has a schtick. What's yours?"
"Hey! You can't just--" The guy stops short, dropping the hand he was pointing with to his side. "Shit, this again. You're not him. You're *definitely* not him. Sorry, lady. I thought you were someone else." (mystery-mullet)
Riquel quirks her unibrow up at him, confused and a little curious. "Yeah, no shit, I have no idea who you are. Guessing you're looking f-for a specific Rick..?"
Stan heaves a sigh, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and looking down at the ground, "Yeah. Sorry, miss, I didn't mean anything by it." He makes a sort of helpless gesture, "He owes me money."
"Hey! You--" Stan pulled up short, dropping the hand he was pointing with down to his side. "... This time I can't even tell if you're him or not. Fuck." (mystery-mullet)
Nihilistic stares at the other man, he didn't know them at all. "Who... Are you...."
"Name's Stan. Stan Pines," Stan says, because what else IS there to say. That's the trouble with Rick. Ricks? Yeah, that's probably right. They all look the same, mostly. There are differences, but his head hurts and he's damn tired. "I thought you were someone."
Give this man his cigar
Support on Kofi if you wanna see more
soos was crying behind the camera btw
"It's a pleasure, Stan." She says, shaking his hand. "You can call me Ricky."
"I'm afraid I can't do much to help you find your guy unless he happened to tell you his dimension number. Or if he has a very specific nickname, I might know him."
"Ricky," Stan says, to keep the name in his head. Yeah, it isn't that different from Rick, but it is a good way to distinguish her. He shakes his head. "Dimension number? No... no, the only nickname I have for him is something I'd call him between the two of us, not something that'd," he gestures and drops his hands to his sides. "...Hopeless. You want a drink?"
Stan drags his hand down his face, "Now this is getting out of hand. I know you're definitely not him, you're older but... ugggh. You all look alike." There was some irony there that he didn't want to thin about. (mystery-mullet)
What the hell? Rude assuming my age, I'm assuming you're looking for a certain Rick... *I look at the disheveled man up and down*
Stan shrugs off the accusation of him being rude. Yeah, it was. So what? He sighs, "I guess I am. Didn't realize how many of you there were out here."
Shaking off the frustration, he opts to introduce himself, "Name's Stan. Stan Pines."
*Kicks their door down.*
"You !"
Stan dropped his can of Pitt Cola, scrambling for anything to defend himself -- the TV remote would have to do.
But... he lowered the remote.
"What the hell are YOU doing here?"
"Hey, pal! You have a lotta-- ugh," Stan pushed his fingers through his curls and visibly deflated. "Wrong again. And you're a lady. Sorry. I'm just...really turned around." (mystery-mullet)
Ricky looks at a bit taken off guard at fist but her expression soften to mild amusement.
"Well, it certainly has been a long time since someone was so disappointed to see me. But maybe I can give you some directions anyway?"
"Don't take the disappointment the wrong way," Stan gave her what he hoped was his most disarming, genuine, smile. "I was looking for a guy... he looks kind of like you. He ran off on me and I keep running into dead ends. Like, I'm finding guy after guy that look almost just like him... or ladies, too, now, I guess? But they're not the guy." He offered his hand, "Name's Stan."
conversation between ex-lovers
"I loved you once."
"You broke my heart."
"I still loved you."
"It still hurts."
"I'm sorry for what I did."
"That doesn't make it better."
"How can I fix it?"
"There's no way to fix it."
"That's not how it works."
"There has to be a way."
"There might be a way."
"But you have to work hard."
"You have to prove you're better."
"I can't be bought."
"I want us to be together again."
"Prove it."
"I'll prove it to you."
"No matter what it takes."
"Promise me you'll be better."
"I promise I'll be better."
"Is that enough?"
"It has to be enough."
"But it's not a guarantee it'll stick."
"I won't let you hurt me again."
"I won't ever, ever hurt you again."
