Heeeelloooooo~ Okay, so a few things first.

I suck at updating. I will probably forget to update, but I'm going to try my absolute best here. Fuck, I've even set up a calendar note. I'm going to try for every Friday-Sunday. If not that, then every other week. Please forgive me for long absences, I'm a freshman in high school so I'm not extraordinarily busy- but I'm pretty good at getting distracted. It's sort of an innate behavior for me.

In any case, here's the summary~ Please follow, favorite and review!

: A Pines legacy of archaeologists ended because of international criticism, and no one bothers reclaiming the lost honor. Dipper Pines is the first in two generations to attempt rebuilding his family's reputation as renowned adventurers. In his late 20's he's discovered something that may lead him to his missing uncle and everything he's searched for... but will he risk joining forces with a madman to find it all? Bill x Dipper; BillDip (MAYBE SOME SMUT I DON'T KNOW YET)

Chapter One

Papers blew softly in the moonlight. Hands quickly snatched them back as they began to flutter off, followed by a rough growl. A lone man stood and angrily shoved down the window in which the cool wind came. A blistering heat soon returned to the room, and a sweat broke out upon his trembling skin.

Two months. Six months. A year. Dipper Pines, a man determined to find everything his absent uncle had once searched for before vanishing, had all but kept track of the time he'd spent staring at these documents. He didn't mind the time. For all he cared, he'd search for the rest of his life. Dipper Pines would risk his entire existence to prove his great uncle right. The supernatural are real. Spirits. The immortal soul. Monsters.

It had to be real.

El Dorado, Atlantis, Olympus, the Fountain of Youth...

All those places recalled by historians, but labeled as whimsical fairy tales; Uncle Ford was completely lost in finding them. His thirst for knowledge earned him a small fortune, but after years of nonsensical outbursts he was declared unhinged. Some would even consider him a heretic. It cost him most of his fortune earned from great scientific and historical discoveries. All that was left was enough to pay for his niece's art degree and art studio, and Dipper's travels. Thanks to Uncle Ford, Dipper Pines was able to continue in his search for answers. At 23, Dipper had traveled half of the globe. Of course he mostly hitched rides with cheap planes and rented vehicles, because he wanted to conserve what was left of Uncle Ford's small fortune.

His use of his uncle's journals had led him to undiscovered tombs and remains of great civilizations. The journals were the foundation of all his journeys. Without them, he'd never be able to find what he had discovered. The man had already filled up his own journal with updated information of the various places. New finds, creatures, and artifacts. He never took any of the relics from the places. The books warned him of it, and Dipper had seen too many movies to be tempted to steal the golden relics he founds himself surrounded by. Surely a painful death awaited him if he did.

Death was truly a luxury he could not afford. He was the only one in his entire family who was even remotely determined to prove his uncle right. Not even his own twin, Stan, bothered with the matter. It was even a common theme to hear his Grunkle Stan talk about his brother as if he also believed Ford had gone mad. That's why many times a day Dipper and Stan would argue about the younger reading the journals. It had gotten so bad to a point where Stan had banned the books from entering his shop where Dipper worked. The younger complied, bitterly, but complied nonetheless. He usually didn't find time in the shop to read anyways since Stan had him working without much of a lunch break. Not to mention the surprisingly steady flow of customers during the day.

The mere thought of work sent Dipper on edge. He ran a rough hand through his soft, but tousled, brown hair. It was times like these that Dipper felt older than usual. For God's sake! He was only 26! Yet he felt nearly 50 with all that had been happening as of late. Heavy bags lay under his eyes, and several strands of grey hair poked through and glowed in the moonlight. What time was it? Dipper shifted his gaze towards the small numbers in the corner of his beat up laptop. 1:00 a.m. again, huh?

Tired limbs struggled to pull the boy up, and soon he was off to grab some more coffee. His eyes swept around the hallways lazily. Always be alert. Trust no one. Dipper flipped on the lights to the kitchen and could practically feel his eyes dilate sharply. His vision blurred and darkened for a moment as all the blood rushed down from his head. He wasn't he only one awake, he thought. The soft sound of people talking on the streets in front of his apartment building seemed to make his head ache. Probably some high schoolers back from partying. How long had it been since he'd gotten out of the house? One quick look into his nearly empty fridge and it became clear to him that it'd probably been a week or so. He reached into the cold storage. His hand emerged with a nearly empty bottle of creamer, which he drained into a mug as he poured cold coffee into it. No sugar. He'd run out of that yesterday. Dipper took a long drink of the bitter beverage before pulling it away from his pursed lips, and he let out a sigh. He'd have to go out and grab some more rations. What day was it? Thursday, he thought after a moment. Tomorrow- or today, he'd have to be at work right at 7:00 a.m. Six hours of sleep? Maybe it was better if he just pulled an all-nighter. After all, the Pines boy had already poured another cup of coffee. It should last him another ten hours at least.

Now satisfied with his refilled beverage, Dipper returned to his bedroom and sat back down in front of his laptop. Another pang of stress shot through him. It was times like these he wished he had his uncle. Dipper remembered his younger days when Uncle Ford would take him out on digs to places reserved for only the most elite archaeologists. No matter who told Ford that his nephew was too young to be digging up human remains, he would simply reply back with the same statement.

"My nephew is more ready for the world than you will ever be! The kid is a genius when it comes to archaeology, and I'm sure he'll be a marvelous digger!"

A soft smile found its way upon Dipper's face. He always became so gleeful when his uncle praised him like that in front of others. It was one of the reasons he was so determined on regaining his uncle's honor and finishing his work. Dipper Pines never wasted his skills, just like his uncle had told him not to. His knack for uncovering mysteries and making daring, but accurate assumptions had served him well. He owed his entire life to Ford.

Memories of the two made Dipper's heart churn with a wave of feelings. It made him... lonely. He'd been lacking in human interaction for most of his adult life, and most of his socializing was with his grunkle and Mabel over Skype. It had been this way ever since he'd left his parents house. His old summer friends sometimes called, but they were off living their lives. Wendy was already married, as was Soos, and Pacifica was running her family business. His twin was busy running her art studio and probably managing various crushes. It never ceased to amaze him how much everyone else had accomplished, while he hadn't done nearly anything except obsess over his uncle's work.

And unlike them... he was all alone.

There was no one he knew of that was willing to share in his line of work. Dipper had already requested the help of various archaeological and historical facilities, even the college his uncle attended, but nearly none of them had even bothered responding to him. The only one that had, which was the community college Stan had attended, had sent an ad that recommended he direct his talents elsewhere. Not that any college would probably ever accept him, nor any historical job. Mabel was lucky to get accepted into a good art school, but it all came down to her denying any interest in pursuing her uncle's goals. It was unlikely that Dipper would ever deny his relations to his uncle for something so insignificant.

He sighed heavily and took another sip of coffee. Silently he pondered whether or not there may be some unofficial organization that may help him. It was a long shot, considering most of the people who were even interested in this stuff were "weirdness bloggers", which were mostly just lazy guys who shouted Illuminati whenever they saw a triangle. It seemed unlikely that there would be people out there with enough influence to open up digging sights, or who have the desire to go out and explore vast and dangerous areas.

When Dipper opened up a new tab, he found himself hesitating over the search bar. What should he type? There wasn't a single place he was working on finding. Well, this month he'd been focusing on the fountain of youth, but that was only one of his many projects. After a moment of consideration he typed a statement into the bar regarding the relic. The wiki for it was the first thing that showed up, and most of the rest were mostly articles. His chocolate brown eyes scanned over the soaring screen, his skill in speed reading allowing him to read at what may be considered record speed.

"C'mon..." He grumbled after about twenty minutes of searching. He'd opened up a few links, none of them answering his question. The Pine's boy was beginning to lose faith. Since no one seemed to be looking for one of the most known treasures in this world, why would the others be different? It was a pretty negative thought, but Dipper was already near his own depression. One victory. The boy needed just one. "Please be something..."

Dipper clicked open an article regarding information on a secret organization that claimed that they knew the approximate location of the fountain. It wasn't the first that he'd opened, but the others were filled with criticism and very questionable theories. This one on the other hand...

New information flooded his head as Dipper found himself absolutely infatuated with this article. It went into great detail about an organization known as Mindscape. Evidently it was a secret society owned by a mysterious person who'd never shown their identity. The only reason people knew of this man, or possibly woman, was because of the strange messages they posted around the internet and places in the world. The most frequent message was even quoted in the article.

"Reality is an illusion. The universe is a hologram. Buy gold! Bye!"

After reading the statement aloud, Dipper pondered it for a moment. It was definitely some outrageous comment. The owner of it never went into detail or even bothered explaining its meaning. Maybe the leader of Mindscape meant this as a puzzle. It was definitely worth thinking about, even if it was nonsense. He took a few moments more to finish the article and reread it to make sure he didn't miss anything. He found the information given intriguing. The organization focused on various projects, but like the article said, it was making an increasing amount of claims about the fountain of youth.

There were several links posted that led to various pictures and screenshots of the messages Mindscape had written. The man skimmed over the pictures before inspecting each closer. It seemed like the pictures held recurring themes. The physical messages written on walls and paper were always in black, and always had a yellow drawing of an eye drawn neatly next to it. The drawing resembled the eye of Horus, the Egyptian deity. It also looked stamped. Either that or it was perfectly drawn each time. The eye on the wall looked more crude, and it made him wonder if they really were all drawn. Regardless, Dipper examined the screenshots. All the messages were written by different users, but all of them were followed by a dash then the word "Mister Triangle". It was an odd name. It may have ties to the illuminati, and Dipper began to wonder how people linked that specific name to the leader of Mindscape. Only after clicking two more of the links did he find out, and the photograph absolutely chilled him to the bone.

It was of an old parchment paper. There was a perfect triangle with the same eye of Horus drawn onto it. The triangle appeared to be made of bricks, halfway up its body at least. Attached to its collar was a neat, black bow tie, and on his head was a matching top hat. It had skinny limbs posed so that it seemed to make the character look like it was waiting to be worshiped. It looked very much like a gentleman, although a very triangular one.

That wasn't the part that had shocked him.

There was a pair of six fingered hands holding it onto the table. Hands that had familiar stubble and scars worn onto it.

... Ford ...

Dipper quickly checked the date that the picture was taken, but it only showed the time that the article author had posted it. "No no no!" His growls of frustration and anger building up as he opened a new tab and searched rapidly for information on the picture. Those were his uncle's hands! They had to belong to Ford! He... he could still be alive! He checked every single last place in the internet for the date that picture was taken. As far as he knew, it could've been taken a year ago!

A sigh escaped his lips. Now was not the time to panic. This only occurred to him after two hours of frantic searching. 3:26 a.m. He was laying on his bed, leaving the papers and books on the floor as though discarded. His laptop lay closed on his lap as he stared into the ceiling.

The Pines twin took a moment to collect his thoughts before considering how to process the situation. Okay. He found a picture of "Mister Triangle", in other words, the deity of a secret organization known as Mindscape. It could possibly be the symbol for the leader. Mindscape is a secret society focused on solving secrets, and judging by the picture, his uncle may be involved in this organization. It also be that his uncle is alive and well and working for these people, or is dead and Mindscape knows where he is. He may also be an enemy of Mindscape.

The thought didn't occur to him until now. It didn't make sense though. From what the article said, Mindscape was invested on solving mysteries for the sake of the public. To cure illness, to end poverty, to do a ton of chivalrous acts of kindness. It sounded exactly like something his uncle would want to join, not be an enemy of. Dipper didn't throw away the possibility nonetheless, he just narrowed it down to that his uncle was indeed related somehow to Mindscape.

Regardless of Ford's relationship to the society, Dipper Pines set a new goal for himself. Find Ford. He had a lead now. A picture that may not even be Ford, but the boy wasn't going to give into doubt.

He needed to contact Mindscape.

Dipper sat upright and cracked open his laptop once more. It didn't take him very long to find the Mindscape webpage, although various pop-up viruses were something that provided a challenge. After multiple accidental and forced downloads, he made it to the site. It was clearly their site, because the first thing he saw were detailed paragraphs about their projects and intentions. "Hmph," Dipper clicked the site link. "For a secret society, you don't try to be very secret." Scrolling up and down the screen, the boy found a brief summary about Mindscape. It recanted most of what was said in the article, except it was definitely more cryptic... and annoying.

If you're looking at this webpage, then you're probably wishing you hadn't. I hope you enjoyed those viruses, they'll force your computer to restart every four hours!, the site remarked. So, unless you're a serious masochist and don't see dead bodies on a regular basis, go ahead and leave. Unless you want to find us. Then keep reading, kid! I hope your eyeballs don't implode just yet from the cosmic forces working around you!

... thanks.

Pressing on, he supposed. Nothing of interest really popped up. It mostly spouted information about the universe and philosophical nonsense. Dipper decided he'd look into it later, but right now he was determined to find information on how to contact Mindscape. After about another 45 minutes he realized that it was sort of a lost cause to find some simple way to contact these people. They were a secret society after all. The site also failed to mention any procedure that may gain the attention of a member. All it offered was strange advice on warding off the future, which hardly seemed sensible. You can't stop things from happening if it has already been decided. That was his thought on the matter, and that was the last thought he had for shutting his laptop down.

Even though this mess was only increasing his frustration, he felt a huge weight being lifted from his shoulders. Dipper knew it was because he knew that someone out there may know his uncle, where he may be, and if he's still alive. Just a simple yes, and the Pines boy would be able to sleep soundly at night.

Sleep. It weighed heavily on his eyelids. That coffee didn't last, did it? He chuckled lightly to himself before letting out a loud yawn. Time. It was irrelevant at the moment. Dipper figured his alarm would care more than he did.

And it was clear at 7:00 a.m. that Dipper Pines was correct.

Bill Cipher.

Heh. Another job well done, the man with glittering gold eyes remarked to himself as he looked over the news regarding his beloved Mindscape. I should start praising my supporters... NAH! Those fleshy assholes just need some virgins! ... Where do you find virgins again?

Randomized and spontaneous thoughts such as these were what kept Bill Cipher, "Mister Triangle", busy during his free time. Besides harassing people, of course. It was a pleasure within itself after all!

Soft light of a computer screen illuminated his devilish face. If Bill could be called anything, than it would surely be just that. A devil. One of debauchery no less. Messing with people for his own pleasurable gains were his forte. This... was one of his intentions for creating Mindscape. Surely one of the larger factors that keeps him going after all that has happened in his life.

Hmmm... Bill scrolled through his email. It was something completely nonsensical. An array of numbers and symbols that compiled into a sentence only he understood. There were only few who knew his email, and Bill was keen on keeping it that way. If his identity was leaked, not only could he be charged for damage of property, but also the dissatisfaction of losing his "alter ego". Bill Cipher was quite proud of the fact that many cared to know who he was, but none truly knew. Not even his closest colleagues. Or friends. Only his-

His eyes lazily rolled to the side to look at an email notification. Ugh. Kryptos. He hated that little moron. Always bothering him with giggles and stupid cat memes. Bill almost regretted giving his email to him. Actually, he did regret it. Greatly. Regardless, Kryptos was second best in his little organization with coding and deciphering them. Mostly hacking and programming. Which was very useful considering that Kryptos was the one to shut off cameras and disable radios when they slink about areas. It gave them enough time to sneak in and take important documents. Usually data or maps to tombs that they'd raid for relics. Smartly, of course. Well. Maybe not so smart. After all, Bill was a fan of explosions.

The screen flickered to the email. Check this out. Pines are back, hehe! The face that always seemed to display some form of amusement instantly contorted into something chaotically violent. Bill had opened up the link that Kryptos had sent him. It led him to his webpage, and to the list that showed who'd visited the site. The user name for the person Kryptos was referring to...

Dipper_Pines.

Pines.

"Oh, isn't this flattering." His chair squeaked as he leaned back onto it, kicking his feet up onto his desk. "The Pine's family returns! This should be a novel! Two kids from the same family interested in me...! interesting..."

Cipher wasn't particularly shocked that Dipper had found him. Although he did believe up until now that it would be many generations after ol' Fordsy before any other Pines would come following after his not-so-well covered tracks. Regardless, he was curious to Dipper's intentions. It was clear that he wanted something Mindscape had. Usually people don't stumble along his website just like that. Thanks to Kryptos, it was exceedingly frustrating to get to his main page. Numerous, if not tens of virus inducing pop-ups would invade your screen before you'd even make it to the site. So, unless you thought this was some freaky porn site and didn't care if your computer got jacked, then you probably stayed for a reason.

Leaning forward once again, Bill returned to what he did best. Finding things.

"DodedodoDA!"

If Dipper Pines could label anything in this entire world as "WARNING: BLINDING MAY OCCUR UPON VIEWING", he'd definitely label his grunkle's dancing as such. The man shook his hips with an unnatural twist, popping every so often. Shouldn't his back give out by now... He gave an unpleasant shudder as his grunkle grabbed a Pit Cola from the vending machine in the corner. "Grunkle Stan, I think you're going to give nightmares to children if you keep walking around in your underwear."

The old man simply grunted and dismissed it. "Yeah right, kid. I'm pretty hip for my old age!" To make matters worse, Stan attempted to mimic a pose he'd seen several teenagers do outside once while talking selfies. There was a sudden cry from the other side of the room as a child burst into tears. The mother came up behind him and covered his eyes. "It's alright Jimmy! I'm sure the mean man isn't that old and ugly!" The woman reassured her child, who failed to stop crying.

Grunkle Stan grumbled something before heading off into the backroom. His niece couldn't help but roll his eyes. Even though he'd arrived at work about an hour later than he should've, Dipper didn't feel at all threatened when he teased his grunkle. It wasn't as if the action wasn't mutual.

He directed his attention back to the phone in his hands. This entire morning he'd been on the Mindscape site. For now he'd keep it to himself. Mabel probably would try to dismiss it as some crazy thing, although she'd regret saying it later. She always did have an odd view about Ford. After all that she's been forced to say and go through to get where she is, her opinion had been warped. The female Pines twin had loved Ford. She liked looking at the photographs he had of ancient families and animals. A picture of Big Foot, which was actually just Gigantopithecus, a massive ape that had been thought to be extinct, for example. Of course, it'd been labeled false as well. Ford could've proved it by killing the creature, but he refused to kill something so rare. At least, that's what he told Dipper.

"Face lifts are still an option!" He called out to his uncle before a boot was flung in his direction. It popped Dipper right in the head and caused his hat to fall right off. "Ouch..." Bending over, he went to recover his hat, not even bothering with the smelly boot. When he straightened himself up, he found himself pausing before placing the hat on his head.

Someone was holding one of the duck-beaver displays in front of him. It might as well be known as a platypus, now that he examined it.

"Can I help you?" Dipper asked before placing his pine tree hat back onto its rightful spot. This guy sent chills down his spine. He had that evil sort of stare that made you want to call the police immediately. If Dipper was on a plane, he'd be nearly certain that this man was carrying a bomb. "No, I don't think you can, Pinetree."

The other raised his brow, before the man gestured towards Dipper's hat. A pine tree. It was an odd nickname, but it wasn't at all minded. After all, it was unlikely he'd be seeing this person after he left. Only during rare occasions would a customer returned. Usually people arrived simply for the kick of it, stayed for thirty minutes or so, then left after having all their money be replaced by stupid, fake attractions.

Tan and tattooed hands caressed the animal softly. "Then... do you want to buy that?" For some reason, Dipper had the feeling that this guy wasn't even at all interested in the animal or anything around him. He didn't even look like he had a purpose for talking to Dipper. "Nah. I don't think I want to, but I will! Just for you kid!" He slapped down... one hundred dollars. A crisp one hundred dollar bill. This thing wasn't even worth ten cents, and the price wasn't at a hundred. Not even by a long shot. "Keep the change!"

Dipper nearly dropped his phone. A hundred dollars just like that was nothing to sneeze at when you're living off of a low wage like what his grunkle was paying him. He set his phone down and looked at the man. "Who are you?" He had to ask. People don't usually just hand out cash like that on a whim. Dipper took back the thought about him looking like he had no purpose. This man definitely wanted something, and he was trying to get it out of Dipper.

The other laughed, a thin smirk forming along his mouth. "Me? Well I'm Bill Cipher! Procurer of oddities! Say, do you have any deer teeth around here? Maybe some unicorn hair?" The statement took him aback a bit. It was strange, but Dipper figured it was just his form of dark humor. He decided to laugh along with it. Bill Cipher, huh? Intriguing. "I don't think you'll find anything like that around here. Mostly just rare creatures such as the beer- half bear, half deer. Or maybe the world's largest finger, taken from the Giants of the East!" There was a sarcastic edge to his voice as he joked. Bill wasn't an idiot, unlike a lot of other people who came in here. The amounts of families that arrive and actually believe his grunkle's "attractions" are real was actually disturbing.

"You joke about this stuff, but there's a lot out there, Pinetree. You just haven't seen it yet." Cipher was using the same card he used on Ford. Dipper didn't know it yet, and it was working miracles. If the young man wasn't paying attention before, he was certainly listening now. There was an adventurous glint to his eyes. Bill saw it too. It was almost stunning how much Pinetree and Ford resembled each other in this way. It excited the man. "Heh, careful kid. I wouldn't take what I say too literally. The most a you'll see in your lifetime is probably some flesh bag attempting to convince people the end is near, or maybe even a two headed moth."

Bill was challenging him. The man truly wanted to see how Dipper would respond. Would he agree? Maybe he'd back away and avoid touching on those topics, especially since most people knew about the Pines family. Or instead he'd disagree; that the supernatural was real. Cipher wanted to hear the kid say it.

"I don't know, man." The younger began with an almost dreamy look to his face. "There's too many unsolved mysteries out there for it to all be fake." Oh how very intriguing. The kid really does believe it, doesn't he? This only served to widen the smirk on Bill's face. Absentmindedly, his eyes wandered to Dipper's phone. His site was pulled up. Oh my! "I like your flare, kid!" He complimented, flicking his golden eyes back up. Dipper couldn't help but get slightly flustered at the flattery. It really wasn't all that often he got complimented for such matters

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh. Well... It's not really something I should be boasting about. Not a lot of people can appreciate the stuff like that out there." There was a longing in Dipper's eyes. You could usually spot it time and again when he looked at the shop. This place really was where it hurt most, because it was a mockery. All these fake attractions were scams. It was almost like his grunkle's very own cruel reminder that fantasy was dead. Stan didn't mean it to be like that. All the novelties were simply his grunkle's way of getting quick, easy cash from one-time customers. Regardless, the irony still stood. The name of the store, "The Mystery Shack", it was all sickeningly ironic given his family's history.

Ford's history.

"Don't sweat it, Pinetree! People around here are just too stupid to really see beyond the walls- if you know what I mean." Bill offered a wink. Despite Dipper not knowing him very well, he found himself chuckling at the strange excuse for comfort. His words were a bit cryptic, but this guy seemed a little off in any case. Dipper silently wondered if that's what he sounded like when he talked about mysteries. Probably a little less cocky. "In any case!" The blonde broke the other out of his pondering. "I shall be taking my leave! Try to keep your phone screen clear. There's too many wandering eyes, don't you agree?"

Dipper quickly looked down to his phone screen. He still had the Mindscape webpage up. Did Bill know about them- or did he just figure it was some weird blog? The Pines boy waved it off as Bill's way of looking out for him. After all, if someone else less empathetic saw his search history he may be in for a bit of teasing or pity. "I'll smell you later Pinetree! Buy some gold- you'll need it!"

And like that, Bill Cipher was gone.

Dipper let the arrival and departure of the strange Bill Cipher marinate for the rest of the day. There was plenty of time to, after all. Not many people showed up after the blonde. It came as a welcome relief to Dipper, who wanted nothing more than to research more about Mindscape. Line after line he reread. The site really didn't have hours of reading in it, but Dipper was determined to decode every secret in it. There were already a couple, mostly easy ones. Statements written backwards that formed non-coherent sentences- but using the first letter to each word and you spell out three words.

I SEE EVERYTHING

It wasn't really meaningful to Dipper. If anything, he found it to be slightly annoying that they'd use such a platitude statement. Despite that however, he found it a lot more challenging to decipher the other things on the page. Other statements, pictures, scattered numbers, unknown symbols... If this society didn't have something to do with Ford, Dipper would've written it off as nonsense. Even if it did mean something then it would still remain irrelevant to him.

"Okay kiddo- Yeesh Dipper. You look like you just watched a twenty hour marathon of 'Pretty Boys Become Even More Prettier'." Stan remarked. The boy slumped onto the counter at the remark. He'd been focused on one of the harder to crack codes for about an hour now. Considering the other ones that he'd solved that day, this one would probably be some super demeaning statement. Maybe, "Go eat you're grandma's ass", or possibly, "Let me kindly light you on fire because you spent so long doing this code". He'd greatly approve of the last one at the moment. In any case, Dipper's body language and face instantly told Stan that he was in a state of agitation. Over what, his grunkle honestly didn't know. For the time being Stan decided it was Dipper finally getting on a dating site. Faint memories of Mabel signing him up for one almost made him shudder. The kid was horrible with girls. Last time, he brought a super girly one out on a hunting trip for a "great bear". The time before that, he had a tomboy who he took out to go get dresses. Mabel let him off easy after he almost got his ass whooped twice by those two; dropping the idea of Dipper finding a mate online altogether.

His muscles ached as he stood up straight, several cracks ripping through the room in an unholy chorus of arthritis. "Thanks for the horrible reminder." The memory of Mabel making him do such a thing made him shudder. It took him nearly a month to get those stupid musical numbers out of his head. "I've just been... looking up new ideas for attractions. It's a little hard when your grunkle has reinvented the platypus." The lie was pretty obvious to Dipper, but Stan ate that stuff up. Well, it was better than having him scold the younger for admitting what he was actually doing for the past hours. "Hehe! Good work, kid! Soon I'll be able to hand off the family business to you and get my ass back to Vegas!"

Just like usual, those words seemed to leave Dipper cringing. He loved his grunkle. He'd never admit it, but he did. Taking over the Shack wasn't what he wanted however. It seemed more like a job meant for someone else more... conman-ish. As experienced in the past, Dipper was the worst conman on the planet. Every time he attempted to scam someone, he always ended up spilling some information that put him at the short end of the deal, or calling off the deal due to his morals. Running a business like this could only lead to disaster. Even Stan knew that Dipper wasn't that great of a con, but for whatever reason, he was keen on letting the boy take over the business. Maybe it's because Mabel wouldn't take it. Even Mabel would do a better job than him... and she'd enjoy it.

"Yeah..." He muttered to himself. Dipper directed his gaze back towards his phone where he saw the time. Closing time. "Anyways, it's time to close up Grunkle Stan. Do you want me to-"

Stan waved off his offer to tidy up the shop. It was usually a gesture well accepted. The old man really did have back issues, and it still was a surprise that his back hadn't given, so he usually didn't mind. "You've been good today, kiddo." As if he wasn't everyday. "I'm... proud of you. Thanks for being good to the family." That immediately caught Dipper's attention. He looked up at his grunkle to find that he was wearing a nostalgic face. Did he really enjoy hearing Dipper say that he was excited about running the business- or was it...

Dipper smiled at Stan and went around the counter. "No problem! First thing tomorrow?" The older smiled warmly, something rarely seen ever. Especially to Dipper. "Right on the money kiddo! Don't be late again either, I'll dock your check next time!" He simply rolled his eyes at the remark and went out the door. Dipper didn't have a car, but his apartment wasn't far. He liked to walk anyways, unless it was raining, in which case he'd usually attempt to wait it out or flag down one of the rare taxi's of his town, Gravity Falls. Today was not a bad day however. Even though he had worked a full shift, the sun was still in sight. After all, it was still the summer, and so the day only seemed to drag on.

A cool wind blessed his heated skin as he opened the door to his apartment complex. Dipper's room was on the third level, allowing him to a window and a broken air vent that the building never seemed to fix. Not that he complained. He usually preferred natural air over synthetic breezes. Regardless, it did prove to be a chore when the wind kicked up and he had papers sprawled about one of his three rooms. As if it were an innate behavior, Dipper fluently unlocked and opened the door to his section of the apartment complex. It was just how he had left it except there was a disturbing feeling that remained from outside.

The wind.

Immediately, Dipper ran to his bedroom and found his window open. He had NOT left that open when he left. "Oh no..." The boy muttered quietly as he looked around. None of the papers were there...

No. They were stacked neatly on his desk. In fact, his entire room seemed to be clean. His heart rate began to increase. Someone had definitely been here with the intention of finding something, stealing something, or cleaning his room. Dipper almost began to hope that it was just the last one as he looked about the room. His journals were still there, everything was still in them, and none of his books or papers had been stolen. What was happening? Who just breaks into a room, cleans it, and then leaves? It occurred to Dipper that they may have looked over his notes, but he also began to realize that people who didn't steal and just looked usually did it in a stealthy way. The cleanliness of his room clearly said that someone had been here. Maybe they wanted him to know?

Dipper heaved a sigh and considered calling the authorities. They had cleaned his room, so no doubt some form of DNA was left behind during the process. He could get someone to investigate it maybe. He moved over to his bed and threw himself down, rolling over onto his back before feeling a strange crinkling under him. "Did they leave something behind?" He wondered allowed to himself. Dipper moved and lifted up his covers on his bed.

Square in the middle of his bed sat a now slightly bent letter. There was a bright yellow wax insignia holding the letter shut. The paper seemed thick and rough, and it took him a moment to realize that there were soft gold strands running through the paper. If those were real, then the person who had cleaned him room definitely had some class. Shit. If they were rich, then Dipper would have some real trouble on his hands. He still didn't know why they'd done it.

Hopefully the letter might shine some light on it...

This is the official welcome letter of Mindscape! Now that you know who we are and what we do- be prepared to face eminent death and crisis! We have accepted you into our dysfunctional little family and we hope you'll be joining us soon!

The letter ended there- or at least, it went on. For whatever reason however, the last parts of the statement were marked out with a black marker. It still smelled like sharpie residue. Dipper's eyes shifted down towards the rushed but extremely neat handwriting below the typed portion. Whoever had left the message had deliberately tried to contact him personally if they decided to cut out some generic message in the invite and add their own personal section. He read on.

Dipper Pines- I think it's ironic that you're investigating at this time! Ironic? Was this person alluding Ford? However, I'm afraid to say that I don't think your particular background is going to make us look any better! You are the product of a psychopath after all! Luckily for you- I like to enjoy the discomfort of other human beings and the disapproval of others. So to make a long story short, I'm going to murder some small animals tonight and hang out near the location below at midnight on the 21st of this month to officially add you into the family! Meet you there Pines!

And that was that. Below the message was a series of numbers that Dipper once again sighed at. More codes. He couldn't even figure out that other one! He fell back onto the bed and instantly crammed the letter under his pillow. This was not going to get to him; he couldn't let it. A single letter, and Dipper already knew that this was his last and only chance to contact Mindscape. Ford... Dipper may finally find him!

"Okay Dipper..." He raised his wrist and saw the date on his watch. A week. Six days, to be exact. "Just manage your time... Call up Stan and tell him you'll be missing work..."

A sadness passed his eyes. Guilt flooded his features as he realized how horrible that thought was. Stan wanted him at work. Today he'd even shown his emotions to Dipper, something nearly unheard of! Of course it wasn't in Dipper's best interests to stay. If he decided to work for the rest of the week like Stan wanted him to, then he'd miss his one shot at finding Ford because he wouldn't be able to solve the damn puzzle! For a brief instant it occurred to Dipper that he could just tell his grunkle about the letter and how urgent it was. That would only make it worse though, Dipper thought. The older would wave it off as another crazy accident like he always did and he'd probably scold his nephew for believing it. Not to mention he'd probably figure everything Dipper said today was all fake. Staying at home however and attempted to figure out what was happening wouldn't slide either. Neither would faking illness, seeing how Dipper was horrible at acting sick and his grunkle would most likely get Mabel to look over him on Skype. Normally he wouldn't mind that, but Mabel would probably figure it out, and then he'd be stuck lying, which was something he really wasn't good at.

"I guess researching will have to wait then." Dipper grumbled to himself before sitting up and plopping into his desk chair. He grabbed for his notes and pushed open his lap top. "Time to decipher these codes."