Books, books, even more books! The amount of books just sprawled out in front of the boy was incredible. Thank god for Amazon 2-day shipping. 40. 40 brand new journals to be filled with forbidden knowledge. Well, somewhat forbidden. At this point, surface level knowledge about supernatural occurrences is commonplace in the small town. After weirdmageddon, Dipper, along with his Great Uncle Ford, worked tirelessly in repairing the memory gun, and turned it into a weather based device that wiped the memory of the whole town.
It didn't work completely however. People in the town can't seem to stop themselves from staring whenever they see a triangle. Plus, belief in gnomes increased by over 70 percent in the census in the next year! Nonetheless, it was time to head back. Dipper was excited to say the least. His degree was finally being put to use. As a Xenobiologist, it was his purpose to study and record strange beings and phenomenon. Of course, he would have to take samples of these beings so that he wouldn't be labeled another quack in the scientific community.
Beside the boy who was fangirling over his new journals, his sister had begun her own processes. Every ounce of her energy was being poured into one, single task.
Very, very carefully stitching a brand new hat. She was a professional craft artist, and a damn good one too. Her clients ranged from her college professor, to Lady Gaga herself. Dipper had requested a replica of the one he had worn in their original adventure, and she was currently finishing up the last details of the dark green pine tree above the lip. Their bags had been packed already, and their apartment in gravity falls had been reserved.
"Dipper!" Mabel said, shocking Dipper out of his own train of thoughts as the book in his hand went flying. "Jesus Mabel," He said, bending down to pick up the journal. Mabel rushed over, and as he was bent over, placed the cap on his head. "Snug as a bug!" She said. Dipper straightened out his back, and smiled. It felt good to say the least. While not the original, it had the same feel of the very hat he had on his journey.
Dipper looked at his sister, who was beaming. She was obviously waiting for his approval. He pulled his sister into an embrace, and twirled her around while laughing. "I fucking love it! How are you this good at this stuff?" He said. Dipper set his sister down, and took a closer look at his hat. It was just so, seamless. "Well Dipper, it takes years of experience! Painful, painful experience"
She held up one of her hands. Small, faded scars lined her hands and fingers from needles, small cuts and hot glue burns. Mabel gave an exasperated sigh, before putting them down. "I'm excited man. Cute boys, new adventures, old friends!"
"Do guys even like tall women?" Dipper asked, teasing her slightly. "I'm not that tall! And we're the same height bozo". Dipper laughed, as Mabel threw a bedazzled pillow at him. "Not that tall my ass! We're both 6'3 Mabel"
"Ugh" Mabel groaned as she hopped into her bed, and covered her head with her pillow. "Just go to bed already," She said. "Tomorrow we go, and tomorrow we finally start full adulthood"
Dipper pulled out his phone. His sister was right. Somehow, time had flown by, with the clock reading 10:17 PM.
He packed up his books, and gave his sister a hug. He could see the smile on her face that slightly breached the side of the pillow, and smirked a little, before turning to the right, and climbing the ladder to his own mattress. Ah yes, the bunk bed. Assisting twins even in their early twenties.
(Line cut)
Loud banging awoke dipper. His eyes thrust open. He was falling. He could feel the wind all around him, rushing into his ears. He tried to scream but there was no use, his voice simply wouldn't work. Colors began to flash. The black void flashed with red, with millions of eyes staring directly at him. Those eyes slowly merged into several, belonging to distinctive shapes. A circle, square, an octagon, and more. They tried to speak, their harsh language mashing into one that burned dippers ears. He felt something trickle out from his ears, and when he reached to touch it, a hot red liquid covered his fingers.
The eyes began to spin as the language got louder, and louder. Dipper tried to cover his ears, and close his eyes. But he couldn't. He felt his arms get gripped by some unseen force, and his eyelids were ripped off. The pain was unbearable as his eyes were exposed.
Looking up, a black hand had something in its grasp. The outline of the pine tree. As more hands ripped open his shirt, the hand lurched forward, pressing the outline into dippers body. It burned, like he had been branded. Finally, the hands left. The language slowly faded into soft whispers. His arms were allowed to rest, and his eyelids somehow returned to him. He felt himself slowly fall, just barely, like a toy being laid down onto the floor. He felt gravel, and his lights went out as he felt the cold atmosphere of Oregon.
