It is finally done!! A small collection of Wittespouses, all drawn together! :D
Starting from the top row, going left to right, we have:
Catherine by @moonmeg, Tabitha by @siro-cyll, Izebel by @crows-jargon, an unnamed Wittespouse by @tobis-special-fuckaway, an unnamed Wittewife by @deci-doodles, Avis by @sporesgalaxy, Avalyn by me uwu, another unnamed Wittewife by @theellipelli, and Sunny by @phobylee
Reblogs > Likes!
Bonus:
Live Caleb Reaction(tm)
EDIT: HEY!!
I ACCIDENTALLY PUT THE WRONG USERNAME FOR ONE OF THE WITTEWIVES! IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS VERSION INSTEAD, IT WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED ;;
"H-Hi... You're... You're not going to bite me, are-are you?"
"Not unless you want me to... 💖"
((Side-blog still not showing up for @the-enchanted-archiver. Send any and all asks/interactions there. Artwork by @siro-cyll (not open for commissions).))
"This is just an experiment for something atm. I'm not sure if I'm going to go further with it past this and possibly another entry. I've even thought about making a Discord for this if it garners enough interest."
"This blog is meant to be everything in the Disney verse (or at least it's animated universe) and I thought about actually creating a universe with it, one that can be interacted with by everyone at one point."
"This takes place in the back of a cab, so it's pretty dialogue-heavy and sets up some lore/world-building."
"The whole premise will be mostly dealing with OCs ((My own, some from friends, others might be through interactions with you guys)) and entering the Disney stories/worlds, much like Kingdom Hearts. I'm just the host for now."
So It Begins.
Characters:
The colors indicate who is who.
Orion (@siro-cyll) and Stella (@junodabeach)
Dame Celestia Briarwood
Me
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
“You sure you don’t want to come with?”
“I can’t. We’ve already discussed this. I can’t cross open water.”
“Not without a coffin! We could-”
“Leave me in the cargo hold because I won’t be able to exit my coffin until we dock? Come on, Stella. Hard pass.”
“But-!”
“You heard Ford’s plan. Gear up now so they can spend as much time at sea as possible looking for the next whatever the hell he’s looking for. The only time you’d see me is whenever we port. We wouldn’t be able to hang out or do anything on the boat.”
“The trip is going to last at least two years… What are you going to do when we’re gone?”
“I’ll figure something out. It’s not like I didn’t spend the last one hundred plus years on my own.”
“But-But you’re going to be all alone.”
“If I ever get lonely, I’ll give you a call. Soos updated the Stan-o-War II with everything needed to keep up to date with the rest of the world. Either that or I’ll incite another barfight and see if Manly Dan maintains his title.”
“You know, we can stay-”
“No, no. You guys should take this opportunity. It’s not every day you get to go on an adventure like this. I’ll be fine.”
The Stan-o-War II’s horn sounded, catching everyone’s attention, and a familiar voice calling out about leaving made Orion sigh.
“Looks like we’re ready to go.”
“... Yeah… Ya’ll be safe.”
“Dammit, I’m going to call you in like… five minutes cuz I already miss you!”
“Wait until I at least get back to Gravity Falls. I don’t want to scare the cab driver when he hears hysterical crying on the other end of my phone. Now go. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Well, that’s a short list…”
“Oh shut up!”
I stood there, watching the Stan-o-War II sail off into the sunset, my final face-to-face conversation with my only friends until who knows when replaying in my head over and over again. I was actually grateful that they waited to leave when the sun was just below the horizon with enough light for the departure. I would have to thank Ford for that considering Stan wanted to leave in the morning. At least Ford understood that it would have been easier for me to say goodbye in the evening hours. It was probably also his way of a peace offering since I had cornered him hours before and threatened to tear him apart and scatter his limbs to the wind if anything happened to Stella or Orion during the trip. I had expected him to fight me with the look in his eyes but he relented and swore to me that he would personally deliver them safely back to Gravity Falls, back to me, once the trip was done.
“They’ll be back…” I whispered to myself, closing my eyes. “Just stay safe…”
“It is going to be hard, is it not?” a familiar stuffy British voice called out, one that would rival the Queen of England. “Returning to Gravity Falls alone? Back to an empty home? Your mortal friends are not going to return for quite some time.”
With a sigh, I turned with a slight glare. There, standing feet away was the older red-and-silver-haired woman known as Celestia Briarwood, still in her dark blue and gold regal attire. Her skin was pale, nearly rivaling mine as if she had not seen the sun in quite a while. Gold stars littered the gown she wore with a matching cape draped over her shoulders elegantly. A large oval sapphire held it together. She looked as if she had walked out of a fairy tale. Her posture was immaculate and her hands were folded neatly over her stomach. She was the definition of lady-like. The way she spoke without consonants made her sound more royal. Her deep blue eyes peered at me over her gold pince-nez glasses with concern.
Dame Celestia Briarwood. A knighted sorceress who showed up one day out of the blue and claimed to be the “Mayor’s Aid” fifty years ago and does so currently. There were two problems with this. I was here fifty years ago, she was nowhere to be found and she looks not a day over forty, thirty if I’m being generous. The silver in her hair suggested that she may be much older than I give her credit for but hey, humans age weird.
Turns out she needed a cover since she’s chosen to retire in Gravity Falls after she takes care of a few things, one being the erasure of the damage and trauma Bill Cipher had caused during Weirdmaggedon. She somehow doctored every photo of the last mayor to include her so people wouldn’t be suspicious. She considers this her “Swan Song” since the whole “never you mind all that” approach the town took didn’t sit well with her when she first arrived and noticed the damage. She also came to look for a replacement for her last job and guess in whose direction she looked. Mine.
“It will take some doing to return to a life of solitude. Especially after so long.”
“I’ll manage,” I scoffed, slipping my hands into the pockets of my coat and walking past her toward the cab.
“I will bet,” she sighed. “Though, you know, it does not have to be this way. My offer still stands.”
“What? Being stuck in a stuffy room, surrounded by mountains of books? How will that be any better? I’ll still be alone,” I threw a look back over my shoulder. “I know what an archivist is. Don’t try to make it sound more glamorous than what it is.”
I thought by entering the cab that would be the end of the conversation. However, when I glanced beside me, there the woman sat. There was no sound of the opposite door opening or closing. She just appeared there.
“How did you-?!” I gaped, looking back toward the dock.
“Where to?” the cab driver glanced in the rearview mirror at Celestia, reminding me that I was alone now. He wouldn’t have seen me in the mirror. We, as in Stella, Orion, and I, had already established that my reflection, for whatever reason, would not show up in any part of an automotive. Not even the windshield. It dawned on me that the driver may not have even realized that there were two people in the car.
“My friend and I will be returning to Gravity Falls, my good man,” Celestia motioned to you. “No rush.”
The man nodded and the car took off. I growled under my breath and put my head in my hands. I wished with my entire being that Stella and Orion had decided to stay at that moment.
“What are you even doing here?”
“Is it not obvious? I wanted to make sure you were handling the separation okay. You three have been together for quite a while. Nearly a decade, am I correct? I know this was not easy for you.”
“I’m fine!”
“You say that, but do you believe it?”
The cab fell silent as I glared at the back of the seat. Celestia cleared her throat and placed her hands on her lap.
“I am afraid that I did not make myself clear when I offered you the position,” the sorceress continued, waving a hand over the gap between us and the driver. An iridescent barrier appeared. “There. Now we can talk in peace. Where was I? Oh, yes. While, yes, you will be gathering and preserving stories, you will be surrounded by many people who would love nothing more than to spend time with someone outside of their realm.”
I furrowed my brow and glanced at her.
“What…? Realm?”
“Each book is its own world, its own realm. The Archivist’s Tower is a realm of its own as well,” she explained. I stared at her.
“What of this world then?”
She gave a nod.
“This world is no different, though what we are doing now will not show up on any pages. This is Dipper’s and Mabel’s world. Stanley’s and Stanford’s. They are the ones who will have their fates written on the pages. We are merely background characters, destined to serve as scenery and to make the world feel alive.”
“So, Stella and Orion-”
“They may show up. They may not. It is up to the world to decide. Though, now that the summer is over, however, I believe this world will split itself into two, one following the first set of twins and the other following the second. Not to mention the infinite possibilities of alternate universes.”
“You talk about it as if it’s a living being.”
“In a way it is. The magic breathed into these worlds can give them a life of their own if enough care is put into their creation,” she gazed out of the window next to her. “And this world has been crafted with the utmost care and love. It is as if it is reliving a fond memory from long ago.”
I watched her, trying to wrap my head around what she just said.
“This is crazy,” I threw my hands up then crossed my arms, glaring out of my own window.
“As crazy as you being a vampire with a conscience?” Celestia leaned forward in her seat to look at me. “Or, say, a triangle demon trying to take charge of this world? Or the fact that magic does exist here, as well as creatures that would not exist in a sensical world?”
My shoulders flinched. She had me there.
“All right then. Why choose me? Out of all the people out there, why me?” I watched her out of the corner of my eye. “As you said, vampire.”
I motioned to myself as a whole then crossed my arms again, this time with my legs.
“I said a vampire with a conscience.”
“What difference does that make?”
“All the difference. Think about what you are and how that separates you from other vampires. You do not harbor evil or darkness in your heart,” she explained. “You are a special case. If one were to push past the sarcasm, the stubbornness, the intimidating demeanor and empty threats as Stella and Orion have, they would find someone trustworthy and protective. Hardly something a creature of the night is known for. You, my friend, know love.”
I didn’t react past staring at the back at the seat in front of me. My face felt hot for a moment from the compliment.
“The compassion you display toward what most evil beings would deem “lesser beings”, the urge to do what is right when faced with a difficult decision, the ability to be able to see the bigger picture… Just now, you were able to let two people who mean the world to you go for a long trip without you. You did not try to stop them or talk them out of it. You are able to let go when time commands it, to control yourself in ways most beings cannot. This is what I need in a replacement. The immortality would only be a welcomed perk.”
Silence fell between us. The more I thought about it, the better the offer sounded. Granted, I would have had to step out of my comfort zone to meet new people, but it would be better than being alone and craving that kind of attention. I did have a hard time clicking with people in Gravity Falls before Orion and Stella came into my life. In our first conversation on the topic, Celestia had promised that I would be able to return to Gravity Falls any time I wished. I just didn’t think much about it since Orion and Stella were still with me. Now that they were gone…
“You are trapped in Gravity Falls, Thorne,” Celestia finally sighed. My head snapped in her direction.
“Um, clearly I’m not!” I pointed out the window. “We’re not even there yet! We still have-!”
“You cannot deny that the further you travel away from Gravity Falls, the more danger you are in,” Celestia pressed. “The rest of this world will only hunt you down for the monster they think you are. You have only survived this long because those in Gravity Falls have had their minds altered.”
I went to argue but stopped when what she said clicked.
“... Didn’t… Didn’t you say that you were here to “heal” that sort of thing?”
“I did. I am here to heal the aftermath of Weirdmageddon before I retire. However, that work may also undo other damage caused by one Fiddleford Hadron McGucket.”
I tensed up at this.
“That means…”
“That means there is a chance that Gravity Falls might not be as safe for you anymore once I am finished,” Celestia bowed her head. “People will start to notice that you are not normal. And with how frightened they get with the supernatural, I am afraid that is going to end up with you having to go into hiding.”
I stared at her for a moment before slumping back in my seat.
“So, is this the ace up your sleeve to get me to agree to replace you? By revealing that your work is going to force me to leave my hometown?” I rubbed my temples in irritation.
“That was not my intention. This came as a surprise to me as well. I did not mean for this to happen,” she shook her head. “I… became conflicted when I saw what I had done with the first couple of people I healed, the mayor included. At first, I did consider trying to separate the traumas, leaving the older and only removing the newest in order to protect your way of life, but…”
“You couldn’t.”
“No. It did not feel right. Take away what Cipher did but leave the mass manmade trauma? I understood what McGucket and his -ahem-”
“Cult,” I said bluntly.
“-Organization! I was going to say organization!” she exclaimed and put her hands up in defense.
“Pretty sure it was a cult.”
Celestia inhaled sharply and clapped her hands together.
“Anyway! I understand what they were trying to achieve, but it did a lot of damage to the psyches of the townsfolk,” the woman explained then clutched her hands together pleadingly. “Please, understand that I would never have done this to make you agree to take my place. I am only warning you that if you decline and stay, your life may become a trial. The last thing I want is for you to go out among the townspeople believing that you were still safe only for one of them to raise an alarm and attack you. Mister Sprott had gathered an angry mob in less than ten minutes when Mabel messed with him about being a witch!”
I gave her a strange look.
“When?”
“Different timeline, worry not about that. My point is that without the trauma these people currently have, you will be hunted down. They are not going to listen to the fact that you are different, not for a long while. Not until they come to terms with where they live, if they decide to stay at all after finding out.”
With a heavy sigh, I leaned my cheek against my fist which was propped up on the car door.
“I… do have a confession to make,” she continued, turning her gaze to the floor.
“Great. Here it comes,” I rolled my eyes.
“I… I knew that Orion and Stella were leaving. I knew before they even met Stanley and Stanford. I have been watching this world for some time, mainly to find a place to finally lay my staff. I realized that you would be lonely without them.”
“Okay?” I raised a brow.
“Well, I, too, know immense loneliness and the struggles of a prolonged life. Before I became the Archivist, I was a World Guardian. It was a terribly lonely title as I could not trust anyone with the secrets I held. What I knew could have ended various worlds if I let even one soul in. It caused me to be paranoid, bitter. Darkness nearly consumed me because of the impact I let it have on my heart,” she went on, placing a hand over her heart, but then turned her blue eyes to me, moistened with tears. “I… am deathly afraid of that happening to someone like you, especially once my work is completed. Until Orion and Stella return, IF they return, you will be placed in a similar situation, not knowing who you can trust. You do not deserve that. No one does.”
An uneasy silence fell between us. IF they returned…? What did that mean? I knew that they wouldn’t just forget about me.
“Becoming the Archivist gave me access to various worlds and people who longed for companionship of their own. I have created many friends through that position. I would like for you, too, to have that option. You will have access to this world as well as many others.”
“Hm... What is the difference between a World Guardian and an Archivist if the worlds reside in books?”
“A World Guardian protects each world within the books. The Archivist preserves the books and stories themselves from the outside, able to make changes where necessary if something goes wrong. If the Archivist fails in their duties, it is up to the World Guardian to take over. If the World Guardian fails instead, all the Archivist can do is helplessly watch the book burn. However, the World Guardian will not know about the Archivist unless it is absolutely necessary. They are considered a background character until needed.”
“This is… a lot to take in,” I muttered, head slightly hurting from trying to understand.
“I know. Trust me. I have been through it. But, also know that I will be here if you ever need any help, that is if you decide to take the job.”
“... Who’s the World Guardian of this world?”
“Mister Tad Strange.”
“Are you serious?!”
“Completely. The World Guardian is the one you least suspect. It helps keep secret exposure to a minimum.”
“The one I would have least suspected would have been Toby Determined but this is fine too, I guess,” I flicked a hand which made Celestia laugh.
“Well, there is a reason why it was not Toby but we are not going to get into that. I would like you to consider what we’ve talked about here. No pressure at all, but-”
I let out a hard sigh and shifted in my seat.
“Honestly, you’ve kind of twisted my arm with the side-effects of your work.”
“I did not mean to-”
“I know. I really do believe you. Sometimes doing the good thing means negative consequences for some involved. You’re not doing it on purpose and that trauma does need to be reversed. And if I stick around, I may only add on new trauma that will take a while to process through.”
“At least it would not be done by a machine…”
“Yeah. The human psyche is already so fragile…”
I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, bringing my fingers together.
“If I took your position, what would you do? After the whole “fixing trauma” thing is done?” I glanced at her. Celestia blinked, looking surprised for a moment.
“Oh. Well, as you know, I came here to retire. I will probably explore the area before settling in, probably take up an apprentice. If the girl is interested, that is. That way I can pass on my knowledge of magic to the next generation.”
My eyebrows flashed.
“An apprentice? You’ve already chosen someone?”
“It was more of an accident, really.”
“Who?”
“Wendy McCormick. She has a lot of traits that would make a great sorcerer.”
I stared at her a moment then nodded.
“Yeah, I could see that. For a moment I was going to accuse you of having a preference for redheads,” I smirked which made the woman roll her eyes.
“Really now.”
“No, no, I get it. The girl can handle herself. I heard she was pretty badass during Weirdmaggedon.”
“Heard? You weren’t there?”
I shook my head.
“Oh, I was there, all right. I was one of the first ones taken out of commission apparently.”
Celestia gasped in shock, covering her mouth.
“Oh my…”
“This floating golden ranch Dorito cyclops with a top hat and cane appears to me, offers me all of this power including blocking out the sun and a never-ending supply of blood if I joined him and expects me to abandoned my friends because I was quote-unquote “Not Normal”, a “freak” compared to the rest of the town,” I did the quotation motion then threw a hand out. “Of course, he does this right in front of Stella, causing her to freak out that I would betray her with how he’s talking about it-”
“You refused.”
I set my jaw and stared at her intensely.
“I told him he could shove it sideways up whatever hole he had for even suggesting it. My mind was on finding Orion and getting both of them to safety since the world was falling apart before figuring out what to do next. I couldn’t be bothered by him or his offer.”
“I see.”
“Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to. I made sure Stella got away before… well, everything went dark after that,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I was told later that I had been turned into stone and added to a massive throne with almost everyone else in Gravity Falls, specifically somewhere on the left armrest. Wasn’t too fond of being referred to as a “freak”, if I’m honest. Or the comment about how I already looked like one of his lackeys because of my eyes.”
Celestia gave a soft hum, following a chuckle. I raised a brow in her direction. Her eyes held a warm glow.
“What?”
“You remind me of someone. Values their friends over all else, regardless of what is offered in exchange. Would never trade them for the world and would suffer any consequences for keeping them, come what may. Their heart is strong, just like yours.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t. They’re precious to me. I can’t replace them if I lose them.”
Celestia nodded.
“I understand. Now, tell me, Thorne. What does your heart say about all of this?”
I watched as she raised a hand to the gem around her neck and, in a gentle flash of sparkling light, her regal attire changed to her normal Mary Poppins-esque attire. Beyond her, I could see the entrance to City Hall, indicating that we had entered Gravity Falls some time ago. Reality started to set in again that I would be going back to solitude. Stella and Orion weren’t going to be back home for a long time. Mabel and Dipper were gone, as well as their Grunkles, Fiddleford had reunited with his son and the two had left for some trip, and it seemed Wendy was going to have her schedule full, not only with school but with sorcerer studies when she accepted. There was no if. There really would have been no one else to talk to. With the threat of losing my freedom looming overhead with the erased trauma, there really wasn’t much else I could do if I was honest. I crossed my arms with a hum and gave her a playful smirk.
“What am I going to say? No?”
Celestia laughed.
“Oh, one day that sarcasm is going to get you into trouble. So, it has been decided.”
As I posted the other day, I’ve been working on the Stan Tumblr Art Style Challenge created by sealbatross. Though, for my version, I drew both the Stan twins! Yay!
Aimydraws/Nekoaimy
This was the first one I drew up. Though I don’t like that most of their Stan twins art is Stancest, I do like to go through and see how they create their details. (Ford is blushing because Stan is messing with him about the kissing machine he had built).
But I decided to draw in Neko’s art style because I just love their art style. It’s unique. Cartoonish and yet kinda realistic. It’s very interesting and quite beautiful in my eyes.
Pitopishi
When I got into drawing Gravity Falls and started scowering the internet for fanart and references, they were one of the first artists I viewed. And from the first artwork I’d seen, I was hooked. I enjoy how they make their (not full color) art look kinda like a comic book style. It’s just really cool looking and I love Pit’s Gravity Falls story they drew in the graphic novel. (Unfortunately, I couldn’t follow the style of color and shading exactly. Especially not the dots lighter colored dots that were supposed to be in the colored portions of their artwork)
The only thing is I hardly ever saw Stan twins fanart from them. So, I figured I’d create one myself.
Siro-cyll
I love they’re line art style. How clean it is and how not all the lines connect, making the bendings in their arms and where their ears meet their hairline stand out. I’m also a bit intrigued by their Trans!Ford head canon. Not in the sense that I think or would head canon Ford to be trans myself, but the idea of Ford being a girl (Or had been born a girl).
The drawing above is kind of a redraw of what happened to Dipper in 4th grade on Valentines Day. I figured that situation could have happened to Ford and Stan would make him one big card out of the ones he received (probably all from girls) to cheer himself up Ford was so happy and thrilled, he kissed Stan in thanks. (It’s not Stancest, guys. Plus, I mean, they’re KIDS. Come on)
I figured that this one could be considered Trans!Ford for those who wanna see it that way. (It’d explain why Ford would be more openly affectionate)
Another gift for @siro-cyll cuz I have unhealthy obsession with their work and just gotta write fanfiction for it. I also may or may not have an unhealthy desire for more Ford and Mabel bonding content. (By the way, to all of you who liked my last gift, Tiger Stripes, and especially to @siro-cyll, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for all of your love and support! I’ve been close to tears so much lately due to your kindness. Just... thank you so much.) Oh! And, S.C., there’s a special little message for you told by your favorite six-fingered fluffy owl; everyone needs a little encouragement and I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you. - N.S.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ever since the Pines family had returned to Gravity Falls for the summer, Soos and Stan shared the role of Mr. Mystery. It was primarily Soos' responsibility so that Stan could sit in his boxers for as long as he wanted, but every so often - to give the old man something to do or so Soos could work on a project or a repair - it was like the good ole days with the original My. Mystery scamming tourists and a humble handyman making the shack stand strong.
Unfortunately, Soos caught a bad case of the summer flu, and so to try to keep two old men and two young teenagers from getting sick, he quarantined himself in his room and Stan had to fill in the My. Mystery role. It felt good to be back in his old ways for a bit, amazing gullible tourists with made-up attractions; he had been doing this for thirty years, he could do it for a week, right?
Wrong. When it was almost ten o'clock and the first tour was scheduled to happen at eleven, and Stan still wasn't up yet, Mabel decided to wake him up in the best way possible: by attacking him with hugs. She tip-toed in her socks and oversized t-shirt her dad gave her to her grunkle's bedroom and carefully opened the door to prepare her attack, but a nasty cough destroyed her devilish plan and she hurried to Stan's bed.
"Grunkle Stan? Are you okay?" Mabel asked. Stan tried to tell her that he was fine, but she felt his sweaty forehead and gasped, "You've got a fever! Hold on!"
Meanwhile, Ford was sipping his third cup of coffee in the kitchen and reading the newspaper since Stan wasn't awake yet to hog it. He saw Mabel running across the hallway and up the stairs out of the corner of his eye and chose to ignore it; his niece often got excited about little things. His concern only came when she ran past the kitchen again, this time fully dressed in a red skirt and a handmade white sweater with a red cross, a white headband over her hair.
"Mabel, sweetie, what's the matter?" Ford called; Mabel wearing her nurse's sweater was never a good sign. Unless she was playing doctor with Waddles.
She popped back into view, this time with medicine, a washcloth, and a first-aid kit in her arms. "Grunkle Stan is sick." She answered and went off to help.
Ford decided that Mabel needed a capable adult's supervision and he followed her to Stan's bedroom, only to find her responsibility giving Stan a thermometer to hold in his mouth and cooling him down with a damp washcloth; Mabel even put on her stethoscope and listened to her uncle's breathing and heartbeat to see how forced it was. Ford crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the doorframe, and smiled proudly at his little pumpkin.
"You sound really congested." Mabel commented calmly. "Does anything hurt? How's your head and your tummy?"
"Stomach's fine for now, but my head's poundin'." Stan groaned quietly.
Mabel took the medicine bottle she had brought from the nightstand and read the directions carefully. "Okay, I think you should take this every six hours, only a cap full. Once it starts to relieve pressure and congestion your head should stop hurting."
"Good job, my dear." Ford complimented, recognizing the bottle of syrup and giving her his approval to give it to Stan.
Mabel's cheeks turned rosy and she filled the cap with the appropriate amount of medicine. Then an idea came to mind and she put the medicine back on the nightstand. "Oh! Hold on! I'll be right back." And she hurried past Grunkle Ford and out of the room.
Ford smiled sympathetically at his brother. "So you caught Soos' flu, huh?"
"I'd fire him if I could." Stan growled and ducked his head under the covers.
Ford chuckled at how little Stan had changed from when they were kids; as tough as he was, whenever he was ill he tended to curl up like a bunny and sleep off his virus.
Mabel came back with a glass of water and gently rubbed Stan's shoulder to coax him out from behind the blankets. "You can take your medicine now. You should take it with water so it doesn't taste as yucky."
How can anyone resist smiling at Mabel's kindness? Stan's lips curled upward as he propped himself up on his right elbow and accepted the cap of medicine, took it, and then gratefully had Mabel's glass of water, but he did so after she took the thermometer out of his mouth. "Thanks, pumpkin."
Mabel just smiled at her hero. "You've got a fever of 101.5. Definitely the flu. You should rest and I'll be back at lunchtime with some soup." She packed up her things and left her uncle to rest.
Ford was about to follow her out of the room, but Stan stopped him. "Hey, do me a favor, Sixer, and keep the shack open, okay?"
Ford stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"You know, run the tours. Make sure Wendy does her job. Squeeze every cent you can outta the tourists. The usual business stuff."
Ford put his polydactyl hands up in both surrender and defense. "N-No, Stanley, I can't do that. I'm a lot of things, but a businessman is not one of them."
"I ain't askin' you to own the Mystery Shack - which in a way you kinda already do - I'm just asking you to hold down the fort until Soos or I are back in the game." Stan groaned and closed his eyes, laying on his back, and he waved his hand in the air casually. "C'mon, you're an anomaly expert, right? Just tell 'em about some freaky safe weird thing and do it with some dramatic flare."
"But…"
"Grunkle Ford," Mabel whispered as she returned and held his hand. "C'mon, we gotta let him rest. You don't wanna get sick, do you?"
Ford let her walk him out of Stan's bedroom and she closed the door behind him, the scientist's stage-fright giving him tunnel vision. Just as the sweater-twins were at the bottom of the stairs, Dipper came down in his orange t-shirt and gray shorts, pinching at his stiff eyes.
"Dipper," Mabel called to get his attention. "About time, sleepy-head! Anyway, Grunkle Stan is sick, so we need to work extra super-duper hard to keep the shack open!"
Dipper, coming to his senses, said, "Great, do I need to be Mystery Jr. again?"
"Nope! You're gonna help manage the tours so Grunkle Ford can lead them!"
"You got it." Dipper pulled out a pencil and a notepad from his shorts and got to work. "I'll help Wendy with the ticket sales and I'll pull from Soos' spare attractions to fill up the shack today."
Ford shook his head to clear it. "Dipper, my boy, if you have done this of all before, perhaps you should…"
"Nah, ah, ah." Mabel said gently, shaking a finger. "Grunkle Stan asked you to run the shack, not Dippin'-Dots. Besides, it'll be good for you to try something new! Now go hurry and get dressed!" And she and her twin went into the kitchen to plan the day.
Ford sighed and went into his room; he supposed he could last one day, right?
In the back of his closest, hidden by the many colorful sweaters Mabel had made for him (she claimed that he was her favorite model), Ford had a spare suit to replace the one Stan had stolen from him after disappearing on the other side of the portal. He shed his red sweater and changed into the formal attire, unsure of what to do for a tie. Guessing Mabel knew where one of Stan's ties were, he put on his white button-up, gray vest, and slipped on his black coat while he looked for her.
Mabel emerged from the living room and stared at her uncle with shining eyes, then let out a very "fangirly" scream. "Grunkle Ford! You look amazing! Wow! You might just steal Stan's title as the silver fox in the family!" Mabel giggled at her joke while Ford's entire face turned beet-red. "Here, I made these for you." She held out a maroon fez and matching neck-tie, but the fez, rather than a crescent, had a golden six-fingered hand, and the tie had a golden six-fingered hand pin. "The best way to be Mr. Mystery is to be you."
Ford smiled affectionately and was starting to feel a little better about this whole thing. He got on one knee and accepted the gifts. "Thank you, Mabel. I think these will suit me just fine."
"No pun intended?" Mabel asked, making Ford laugh as he tied on his neck tie and let his pin show proudly. She helped by putting the fez on the top of his fluffy hair, running her little fingers through his charcoal-fluff. She pressed her lips and hands together and squealed again. "Eck! I gotta get my camera!"
"Mabel, no…" But she was gone.
Ford sighed and stood. He turned to look at the mirror and examine his appearance. He did look… nice? Maybe. Possibly. Mabel seemed to think so and she had exquisite taste. Ford decided to ignore the fact that her opinion was biased since they were family and he also decided that his little shooting star might be right.
"Grunkle Ford!" Mabel's voice ringed like cheerful bells, and when he looked her way he was blinded by a flash of light. Mabel got a polaroid of her fluffy, floofy, flustered old nerd whom she admired dearly. She grinned at the picture and claimed, "I never miss a scrapbook-ortunity! I'm gonna go add this to our family scrapbook! Dipper's ready for you in the gift shop!" And she skipped away to work on her arts-n'-crafts.
Ford took in a deep breath and reminded himself that it was only for one day as he walked towards the shop. Dipper had planned out a good schedule for the tours, bringing back nostalgic attractions as well as some new ones. First, the rock-that-looks-like-a-face had been brought inside to start off the tour; then a collection of rare and exotic (probably fake) pictures, like of bigfoot or of horses riding horses (Ford wasn't sure if that picture was PG); then the "ugliest creatures known to man" gag; then shells of a dinosaur egg (which Ford was pretty sure was legitimate and from Stan Jr.); and then finally the sack of mystery.
When Ford left to greet the arriving tourists at eleven o'clock, Wendy asked Dipper as she flipped through her magazine, "You have a backup-plan, right?"
"Oh, totally." Dipper said and replaced his pinetree-hat with an eyepatch.
Ford took in a deep breath and then gave his little audience a toothy grin (he was lucky that it was flu season and there weren't a lot of tourists today). He just had to be like the original Mr. Mystery. He could do that, right?
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to my humble Mystery Shack! I, Mr. Mystery, will gladly give you a tour so you may gaze at many abnormal wonders that plague my home." Ford gestured to the rock. "Behold! Rock That Looks Like a Face rock: the rock that looks like a face!" And he grinned nervously; his anxiety was starting to increase subtlety.
"Does it look like a rock?" An old lady asked, adjusting her glasses.
"Um… n-no." Ford's confidence was starting to fade. "It's a rock that looks like a face."
"Is it a face?" A chubby boy with a lollipop asked.
"N-No, it only looks like a face."
"But where did it come from?"
"Was it once a face?"
"Is that what we look like when we're dead?"
The questions kept on coming; this normally wouldn't have bothered Ford so much, he lived to seek out answers, but these were questions he could not answer nor could he investigate to find the answers; he was expected to know what to say on the spot; Stan could do that, but Ford could not. He swallowed as his skin paled.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
The group turned to find a boy in a suit with an eyepatch and his hair combed back. They gasped and admired the adorable Mystery Jr., having heard of him from last summer, and the tourists hurried to him, leaving Ford free to breathe heavily and try to relax.
"Thank you, thank you all for coming!" Dipper started to lead the group to the next room. "You'll quickly notice the numerous attractions we keep here, but some weirdness we could only capture through pictures! Be amazed, at our Hall of Photos!"
Ford slipped away as cameras flashed and gullible tourists were entertained. He wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief and he realized what happened; he got stage-fright, inconvenienced by the slightest change, choked, and his own nephew had to swoop in and save him. Ford was incredibly flustered and embarrassed and decided to get some water from the kitchen.
He found Mabel there, wearing an apron over her nurse's sweater, and she stood on a step-stool in front of the stove, mixing a big pot. She smiled sympathetically when she heard her uncle come in. "Hey, how did it go?"
"Horribly, my dear." Ford groaned and filled himself a glass of water from the sink. "I just couldn't do it. I know Stan asked me to do it, but I think it would be best if Dipper continued to handle the tourists. I would be happy to assist in some other way, but I'm no Mr. Mystery. I'm nothing like Stanley."
Mabel paused her work, tapping the wooden spoon on the side of the pot to shake off some broth, and she turned to look at him. "Grunkle Ford, that's not true. You're very much like Grunkle Stan; you're both sweet and handsome and strong and very brave."
Ford turned red and hid the bottom-half of his face in his cup. "Th-Thank you, Mabel." He stuttered.
"And it's okay that's you're not like him. More than okay." Mabel insisted as she moved to where chopped vegetables laid and she scooped some up into her hands. "We never wanted you to be. At least I never wanted you to be. You're supposed to be Dr. Mystery, not Mr. Mystery. Look, being weird and being different is awesome cuz it gives you a chance to be yourself. You have to give the tours your way. Get open, get honest with yourself, invent your own way of doing things, no matter what others think. Leave people confused by how awesome you are; that's what it's supposed to mean to be Mr. Mystery."
Ford's eyes were round and shining like stars as he stared at his niece, who plopped the veggies into the soup and stirred them in. "M-Mabel Pines, that… that was very wise and mature of you. When did you learn all of that?"
"Somewhere between fighting an unholy triangle and getting my braces taken off." Mabel joked, grinning to display her braces-less teeth. "Oh! Maybe my braces held back my wisdom and whatnot! We should sue my dentist for everything he's got!"
Ford laughed, feeling much better than he has felt all day.
Mabel tasted her homemade chicken soup and said, "Lunch is almost ready. Want some? I made plenty to share."
Ford smiled and nodded. "Thank you, my dear. I will be back in a moment to join you for lunch." And he left for his room again.
Mabel was right; Ford had been trying to hold a false image of himself, an image he didn't have because his twin had it, and really he just needed to be himself. Ford tossed the fez on his couch and saw the white lab coat on his desk-chair. He smiled and exchanged that for his suit-jacket. He smiled, much more comfortable in his trenchcoat-like attire with his gray vest and white button-up, and he adjusted the pin Mabel had given him; he would always treasure that tiny six-fingered hand. Ford went back into the kitchen just as his niece was leaving with a tray holding a bowl of soup and a glass of orange juice and she grinned and nodded in approval.
After a pleasant lunch with Mabel, another tour was scheduled. Dipper offered to take this one, but Ford claimed he had it under control and he knew just what to do this time.
"Now, many of you may have had a friend owe you money or have won poker and someone couldn't pay you right away," Dr. Mystery said eerily, his back to the audience. "But have you ever had The Mothman owe you money?!" And he spun around, his fluffy hair a little extra floofy due to the sudden movement, and he gestured to an inky drawing of the odd creature.
The tourists gasped and clapped and took pictures. "What happened?" A little girl asked with a lisp, reminding the doctor of someone very dear to him, and he cleared his throat.
"I'm glad you asked that, my dear. It all began thirty-two years ago in a strange place long-forgotten…" And he began his storytelling, entrancing his audience and enjoying their captivated attention.
The rest of the day the fluffy, nerdy owl did an amazing job entertaining the tourists with his stories and evidence to back it up, and he even brought in some of his "mad scientist" experiments and had some kids help him mix colorful liquids in beakers so they made bright, harmless, explosions. The tourists were also delighted by their tourguide's extra fingers; never before had Ford been surrounded by so many people who were delighted and happy to see his birth defect, asking questions he could confidently answer and showing how well he could do shadow puppets. Dr. Mystery was a huge hit, and when Mabel watched him smiling and laughing at the last tour of the day she was reminded of that Bob Dry the Science Guy, those videos her science class sometimes put on and it would make the whole class freak out.
As the tourists walked away with boxes full of merchandise from the shop, babbling about what a great time they had, Dr. Mystery waved them away, wiggling his six fingers, and he called, "Remember, we put the 'fun' in 'no refunds'!"
Mabel snuck up behind him and hugged him. Ford jumped, but turned to hug her back. "That was great, Grunkle Ford! I'm really proud of you!"
"Thank you so much, Mabel." Ford got on one knee to be eye-level with her. "You really inspired me to be the best me I can be, and I have no one to thank but you. You truly have a gift."
Mabel's cheeks were rosy again; she hugged Ford around his neck and he hugged her in return, rubbing her back and combing her beautiful long brown hair. She snuck a kiss on his cheek before skipping away to check on Stan. Ford's eyes were misty as his fingertips gently grazed the spot on his face where Mabel had kissed him; He then grinned and left the gift shop, confident that Dr. Mystery would be available tomorrow.
A gift for @siro-cyll, cuz they’re the best and I love them and lowkeygotahugecrush, but anyways! They’ve inspired me so much the last few weeks by just being them and I wanted to do something special. I hope you like it! - N.S.
~~~~~~~~~~
With the soft, warm steam coming from his mug, the pleasant early-morning sun baking his naked chest, and the cool breeze awakening his senses gradually, it would be an understatement to say that Ford was comfortable.
The breeze ruffled his fluffy charcoal-gray hair playfully before disappearing, leaving behind a still Summer's air. While it is true that he became cold easily, one of the reasons why he wore turtleneck sweaters all year-round, the star his planet revolved around warned his exposed skin pleasantly and Ford felt no anxiety nor unpleasant chill as he stood on the porch, watching the day begin.
The aged scientist sipped his hot caffeinated drink, something he had excruciatingly missed while out in the Multiverse, but over the last ten months he had been home, Ford had taken full advantage of the Columbia-imported beverage and revisited his old habits with each mug. He took in a deep breath; with Bill dead, the remarkable start to a day, his brave choice of attire, and the fact that he was back in Gravity Falls for the summer, surrounded by loved ones, Ford was flooded with a sense of peace and he felt at home.
Of course, that wasn't to say he wasn't at home on the Stan O' War II with his brother; he and Stan had the time of their lives on that boat, sailing the Arctic ocean and fulfilling the dream they had shared since their childhood; and they looked forward to continuing on their adventure when the summer ended. Still, Gravity Falls has always been and always will be where Ford felt at home, felt like he could be himself, and while those characteristics applied on the Stan O' War II, here in the Mystery Shack two little bundles of joy made it even better.
Speaking of, she was opening random doors like the creep she admitted to being, wondering what all had changed since she and her brother had arrived for the summer. Mabel pleasantly found that, all in all, not too much had changed. Some more things had been moved into storage to make the Soos and his Abuelita's move easier when summer ended, and some things were moved around for convenience's sake, but no great change that threw the teenage girl for a loop; this was still her true home and her family was still here.
Mabel skipped to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of Mabel Juice to satisfy her appetite until her Grunkle Stan would make his world-famous Stancakes. As she poured her homemade drink into a glass, she noticed the used coffee-dipped spoon by the sink and when she looked at the coffee-pot, some of the dark, gross, adult drink was still in there, probably enough for two more servings, a second one for a sleep-hating scientist and one for Mabel's favorite conman.
Looking forward to spending time with him, as she always will, Mabel made her way to the basement to surprise Grunkle Ford with her presence. She was confused to find it empty, it being typical for her uncle to overwork, never ceasing, but maybe he wasn't in the mood to work. Or maybe he was working in another room. Mabel checked the private study on the second floor of the basement, but it too was empty. Then she checked the thinking parlor, astounded and also pleased to find it empty; if Ford wasn't working (which was a good thing in Mabel's book) then where was he?
Mabel decided to calmly roam the house for him, now halfway done with her Mabel Juice. Ford wasn't in the living room and it was unlikely that he was upstairs. Just as she was thinking to check his room, in case he went back there to drink his coffee in peace, Mabel decided to check the porch since she was so close to it. She opened the door and looked around, then made a big smile that was free from braces. Ford was standing to her right, a hand on his hip and another hand holding his mug, shirtless and enjoying the sun.
"G'morning, Grunkle Ford." Mabel said cheerfully and let the door close behind her
Ford jumped, nearly sloshing coffee on his hand, and his face turned red as he looked at his great-niece. His free arm was now crossed over his chest, trying to preserve some privacy, but it hardly mattered; he was still fairly exposed.
It wasn't uncommon for Ford to sit by the window in the Stan O' War II shirtless in the morning, but back there he was assured that Stan would not wake up until nine o'clock, plenty of time to finish his coffee and cover himself again. He never had to worry about someone seeing his torso and the many ugly scars that littered his skin, but he had overlooked that his beautiful niece was an early-bird, just like him, and he had misjudged the risk of being caught.
Ford cleared his throat. "G-Good morning, Mabel. Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah, did you?" Mabel asked and stood next to him, watching the sun and blissfully unaware of how uncomfortable her uncle was.
"Y-Yes, I did, my dear." And Ford sipped his coffee to give him something to do that wasn't standing awkwardly.
Mabel also sipped her juice, smiling and happy. Ford casted glances down at her, waiting for her to make a remark or comment about him only being in his plaid pajama-pants, but she was distracted by the beautiful morning. Ford tried to move past his self-conscious fear, but that was easier said than done. Surviving out in the Multiverse had earned him a handful of battle-scars; old gun-shot wounds, scratches from monsters, chemical burns from acid, and most recently two discolored scars on his wrists and one around his neck, the burns Bill gave him as the devil tortured the scientist for information. Some scars he had received well before the Multiverse and some he had received willingly, but this was a conversation Ford was not ready to have with his innocent little girl and he hoped he could somehow avoid it today.
However, Mabel was an insightful, kind young lady, who was bound to notice when something was wrong with a loved one, so she glanced up at Ford and asked, gentle as a kitten, "Grunkle Ford, are you okay?"
Ford looked down at her and gave her a smile she almost bought. "Yes, I'm okay."
"Are you sure? Did you have another nightmare?"
Ford shook his head. "No, I slept soundly, thank you."
Mabel decided that she believed him and then looked down at his arm, about to take his polydactyl hand, but something else caught her attention and it made her smile. "I like your tiger stripes."
Ford raised an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"
"Your tiger stripes." Mabel clarified and softly touched some scars on his left arm that were from when a huge monster scratched him. Ford typically didn't like to be touched, but the girl was so gentle and only had the best intentions, so he held back a shiver and let her feel his skin. "They mean you're very brave. They look really cool!" Mabel's curiosity and fascination got the best of her; she moved her little hand up his arm and to his shoulder, where more scars laid. Her eyes sparkled like stars and she just kept on smiling at her uncle's body. "I especially like those big ones on your chest. Wow, you must be really brave!"
Ford bit his lip. He was completely and utterly speechless. Did she fully understand what he had to do to receive these marks, or did she believe they magically came to be when someone was brave? Did she have any idea what he had been through? Or did she really understand what she was saying at all. When Ford looked at her beautiful brown eyes, the brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that she did understand even if not fully. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to understand fully yet, but for now he could enjoy what a blessing his niece was. "Th-Thank you, Mabel. Really, thank you so much."
Mabel smiled with rosy cheek and held his hand. Ford squeezed her hand kindly in return. After a minute, Mabel pulled him to the couch by the hand and sat down, patting the seat next to her. Ford smiled and sat next to her, then allowed her to curl up against his chest and watch the sunrise. He blinked his misty eyes dry and wrapped a strong arm around her, much warmer with her and no shirt than any sweater could ever warm him.
A gift for @siro-cyll, who I would be honored to call a friend and a wonderful, beautiful, creative and spontaneous person. Guys. I cannot thank them or y’all enough for everything! Things have been rough for me lately, but YOU make it possible to keep going! Keep being you and don’t let anyone stop you. I love you very much. - N.S.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was raining that day. Maybe that was why it took Ford awhile to decide that it wasn’t a figment of his imagination he was hearing, or another natural sound the woods would make in this weather. No, no it was definitely crying.
Stan was asleep in front of the TV in the living room and Dipper was upstairs in the attic. Ford was on his way to his lab to work on a project, having his fifth cup of coffee in his polydactyl hands, when his ears picked up the soft distraught sound of his niece’s sobs. His protective instincts heightened and he sat the mug down by the cash-register to better approach the door quietly. Ford hesitated, not having a clue how to help a usually-bubbly thirteen-year-old girl, but his heart couldn’t take having her in emotional pain and he not do anything, so the socially-awkward old man gingerly opened the door and peeked.
Since the Mystery Shack was closed today, the gift shop and it’s porch was certainly a good place to be if you wanted to be secluded and alone. Ford was discouraged to find Mabel with her back against the shack, her knees by her chest, and her entire body suffocated in her blue-rainy-sweater; she was in Sweatertown, a bad sign according to her twin.
Ford crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on the door to keep it open. He still had no clue what to do. He racked his brain to try to think of what was causing his beautiful little girl so much unhappiness. Was Waddles hurt or sick? Did she and Dipper have a fight? Did someone make fun of her? Then it hit Ford like a ton of bricks; Mabel had been talkative informing her family at breakfast on a date she had today with a new boy she liked. All evidence screamed that the date did not go well at all.
Ford slowly walked through the door and closed it quietly, allowing his footsteps and small noises to warn Mabel of his presence. His arms were crossed over his chest lightly to give his limbs something to do. “Mabel, sweetie?”
“Mabel’s not here.” She mumbled through her article of clothing, sniffing wetly. “She’s in Sweatertown.”
“I see.” Ford’s cheeks suddenly felt hot. He couldn’t help but feel like he was already doing something wrong. “M-M-May there be… erm, visitors in Sweatertown?”
“No.” Mabel moaned. She must be very upset to reject any attempt in comfort. “Please go away.” And her soft crying continued.
Ford, without realizing it, lightly pulled his turtleneck up to his nose, covering the bottom-half of his face, all the while his cheeks turned rosy and he was becoming hotter. He racked his big brain on what to do, but no amount of PhDs could prepare him for this. Perhaps Ford should leave Mabel alone so she could dispose of her emotions at peace. Then he thought of what he would want in this situation. Back when he would cry in his room after a bad encounter with a bully, while initially he may want to be alone, he needed someone to tell him that it would be okay. Always that someone was Stanley; maybe Ford should tell him to help Mabel, they were extremely close and he could probably help their little pumpkin way better than Ford ever could…
But then Ford finally noticed his little habit, one similar to Mabel’s. They were, after all, the Sweater Twins, dubbed so by Mabel Pines herself. They needed that extra comfort, that hug from something warm and fuzzy you can get anytime. Being trapped in the Multiverse for thirty years deprived him of having someone around to hug him and he was immensely grateful to have that back; he didn’t want his amazing niece to go without that extra level of comfort and love dearly beloved can give.
Ford walked up to Mabel, sat next to her, and pulled his turtleneck over his lead, leaving a little bit of charcoal-gray floof poking out, and he crossed his arms over his knees and held his knees close to his chest. Mabel slowed her crying down when she realized what her uncle was doing. To see exactly what he was up to, she peeked a little shiny eye out of Sweatertown and then quickly retreated before she could get caught, but she knew what her uncle was doing. Grateful and breaking down, Mabel curled up to Ford’s side and cried more freely. Ford did not lift his head, but he did wrap his arms around her and let her cry for a few minutes.
They were both silent, apart from Mabel’s sobs and the sounds of the rain. Ford rubbed circles into her back and just focused on being there for her. He desperately wished he could fix whatever had hurt her so bad, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe he didn’t need to know what happened and to swoop in and try to save the day. Maybe he just needed to be there for Mabel, like how she was always there for him.
When it seemed like Mabel was slowing down, Ford left Turtlenecktown and waited for Mabel to do the same. She slowly freed her face from Sweatertown and wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve. Ford wiped a tear from her cheek. “Do you feel any better, my dear?”
Mabel nodded.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
Mabel looked hesitant. She was still a good way into Sweatertown. But then her uncle did some quick thinking and had another idea.
“Wait here for me, just for a minute.” And he got up and went inside.
While Ford was away, Mabel dried her face and took in deep breaths. She was grateful that Ford didn’t obey her and went away. She loved him very much and she needed him right now. He came back with a fuzzy blanket in his hands and a small smile on his face. He sat in front of her and threw the big blanket over their heads, making a tiny tent.
“Welcome to Blanketburrow.” Ford greeted quietly, making Mabel giggled and cover her mouth. “Population: the Sweater Twins.”
Mabel crawled up on his lap and hugged him around the neck, and Ford found himself powerless and unable to return the gesture, not that he wanted to be powerful enough to deny her. After a long hug, Mabel sat on Ford’s lap and told him everything in the comfort of Blanketburrow.
I’ve created a room with the settings for hide and seek. I can throw together a small Discord channel for if you’d like. I know people are looking for Hide and Seek games and I really want to play a round. Lemme know what you think. I’ll be up for a couple of hours.
Who’s playing with me (HideNSeek so if I go public, it’ll give new peeps an idea of what the game is):
@siro-cyll (Orion), @meggo-b (Bumrush), and @starfolk7 (Kilaneka)
Room key will be reblogged with the announcement of streaming w/ Orion.
How to Play:
There is only one emergency call to find out who is the Impostor. (we’re going to find out one way or another) Once found out, players will try to avoid the impostor in order to get their tasks done. The impostor has a small field of vision, making it hard for them to find anyone. As a player, you have to try to keep out of that field at all cost.
After the initial call is done, no one is to touch the emergency button. The Impostor is tasked with turning off comms so no one can cheat to find who went where.
The crewmates win by tasks or the impostor wins by killing everyone.
If the tasks are all done, no one wins.
No sabotaging, no venting, no voting off, no body reporting.
