#gargoyleofgravityfalls

[renas-rp-hub]

“Uh.. I think I’m lost.” ((Gargoyleofgravityfalls))

@gargoyleofgravityfalls

“Oh my. You must be pretty far from home.” Fluttershy felt as if she’d seen this type of creature before - perhaps in a book or a piece of artwork? “W-where are you from?”

[ford-filbrick-pines-phd]

"Did you catch fire again?"

“....no. I shaved this morning..if that counts?”

[steelgrey-angel]

"Happy Summerween, Dipper." Stan greeted from his place on the roof. "You got any plans? I plan to gorge myself on candy until my body shuts down."

“Heh thanks Grunkle Stan!” Dipper giggled some and brightly grinned. “Heck yeah man! Same here! Oh! And watch scary movies with Wendy! It’s gonna be awesome!”

[somepointsomewhere]

continued w/ @gargoyleofgravityfalls

     “Exactly!” Stanford spoke with excitement, the prospect of a brand new mystery lighting him up in every way possible. It was almost childlike, really, the way the old man smiled wide and frantically waved for his brother to come closer. Perhaps it was nothing, but maybe, just maybe, he’d get to share an adventure with Stanley. Once Stanford was satisfied with his twin’s level of attention, he reached out to brush away the moss and decades of collected dirt and grime from the name plate of the stone.  He didn’t recognize the name emblazoned across the tarnished plate, but the numbers did strike him as peculiar. “Aha! Another inconsistency. Stanley, according to this stone, the man buried here died a full two years before the cemetery was established!” 

[steelgrey-angel]

"Dipper!" Stan tossed the keys to his nephew. "You're driving. Let's go!"

“W-Wait are you serious?” The teen fumbled with the keys he barley caught, glancing at them then to his uncle in horror. 

@gargoyleofgravityfalls

[hillbillyisms-blog]

@gargoyleofgravityfalls

The tiny gargoyle sniffled slightly as he nursed a scratch on his cheek. He had just woken up in oversized clothing, behind the wheel of a car. Having no idea how to drive a car under the best of conditions, Stan had promptly crashed it into a telephone pole.

Miraculously, he had escaped with only the aforementioned scratch on his cheek. Apparently, baby gargoyles had softer flesh than the adult members of their species, because the piece of glass had sliced through his cheek as easily as it might have a human.

Not knowing where else to go, he wandered away from the car, kicking off the oversized pants so that he was clad only in an adult-sized dress shirt. Spotting a fence, he slipped through a hole in it, looking for someplace to hide…

Fiddleford McGucket, local kook turned eccentric billionaire, still liked to visit the old junkyard where he had resided previously. Although, he had all the money in the world; one of life’s greatest pleasures to him was finding usable, salveageable scrap for his inventions. He was humming a folksy little tune as he sorted through the junk in the junkyard and almost didn’t notice the thing crawling around out of the corner of his eye. And then, he did notice it. He screamed for a few seconds and hid behind a scrap pile. Then, he peeked out from behind it and noticed that the creature crawling around was a baby gargoyle. And... it was adorable. “Awwwwww, howdy, little fella. Ya looking kinda lost, aren’tcha?” He came out from behind the scrap pile.

[somepointsomewhere]

“Who did this to you? I’ll kill them!”

@gargoyleofgravityfallsProtective starters

Chilly drops of water trailed down the six fingered man’s wrist. A makeshift icepack was pressed firmly against his swollen eye, his free hand toying idly with the limbs of his glasses. They were bent right at the bridge, and the right lens was cracked. Stanford supposed he was just lucky it hadn’t completely shattered. 

“Come on, Stan,” He tried to offer a smile, though the split in his lip hurt him a bit too much to manage it for long. “It’s no big deal! Nothing I haven’t had before,” 

[ford-filbrick-pines-phd]

"What have they done to you?" ((Protectorofthefords))

((Ask “What have they done to you?” to find my muse held hostage and experimented on, chained in a small room.))

The words pierced Ford Pine’s mind horribly loud bringing him back to consciousness with an angry throb. Eyes blearily opened, before slamming shut from the light. Every twitch made him want to scream in pain…but he had long since lost his voice…or something. Truth was he couldn’t remember a thing.

That voice was so familiar though…he should know that. He should know it-! But..he should know who he was too shouldn’t he? A name floated to the front of his mind, Stanford. That was his name wasn’t it? Then…who was…he gave up. It hurt just to think.