Over Gravity
An OTGW and Gravity Falls Crossover
Disclaimer: I own almost none of these characters. They're only mine in my sweetest dreams.
Damn.
A/N at the end of the chapter this time; I want you to enjoy the story before my ramblings commence.
CHAPTER SUMMARY:
While Wendy's disappearance becomes known by the public, the said girl finds an ally in another snarky redhead, Wirt and Greg have an alluring new neighbor, and our nefarious trio officially enter Stage 1 of their plan.
To say their wasn't a lot of newsworthy moments in Gravity Falls would be a big fat lie in big, red, bold letters.
There had always been something interesting to report on, whenever or not the public actually cared or not. Granted, most of the time it was the latter, but ever since Weirdmageddon happened, news stations all around the hick town jumped at every gross, horrifying, or intriguing story thrown their way without a care in the world. Whenever or not what was reported was actually real was arguably where most of the controversy came from.
This story though, the public wasn't so sure about.
"This just in," came in the baritone voice of famed news-woman, Shandra Jimenez, from every television set, radio speaker, or soup can in town. "Local teenage rebel and daughter of esteemed lumberjack, Wendy Blerble Cordurory, has been just reported missing by the authorities."
There was a brief cutaway to popular town policemen and beloved doofus boyfriends, Sheriff Daryl Blubs and Deputy Edwin Durland, with a microphone shoved up to their noses but still looking as both unfocused and love-struck as ever.
"Yup, that girl is defiantly gone," said Blubs.
"Yerrup!" Hiccuped Durland.
"Vanished without a trace." Said Blubs.
"Yerrup!" Hiccuped Durland.
Behind the scenes, both the cameraman and reporter exchanged looks.
"But are you certain she's not maybe playing some stupid game? Maybe check around the perimeter again?" Shandra suggested, as she held the microphone closer to the point where it was just barely brushing against their noses.
There was an awkward silence as the duo stared at the camera with dumb, goofy expressions and happy smiles. Then came the familiar hums and buzzing of their tasers firing up
"Just trust your sheriff, folks." Said Blubs.
"Yerrup!" Hiccuped Durland.
When Wendy came to, she felt something soft and damp being pressed against her forehead. There were gentle sounds in the background, such as warm humming, the pitter-patter of running feet, and bluebirds chirping.
When she awoke, very groggily, she noticed the plump, smiling face of the older woman staring down at her. Her company had fat, rosy cheeks decorated with freckles, bright blue eyes, and even brighter red hand tied back in a tradition housewife style with that white hat thing and everything. She almost reminded Wendy of the Raggedy Ann doll she owned as a child, before one of her stupid little brothers "accidentally" chucked it in the fireplace when she was babysitting.
She wanted to laugh, lazily tilting her head to the side and staring up at a grey ceiling with a weary smile. This was it; she was in heaven. That expired cider killed her and she was in heaven with a stupid doll she only now remembered she used to own. It would be too easy to fall right back asleep, to be dreadfully unaware of the afterlife and simply float around in the vastness of space, but her doll's gentle hand dabbing the cloth on her hot skin only pulled her back.
Squeezing the doll's hand that was gently cupping her wrist, she couldn't help but tear up. Wait, tear up? She's a Corduroy! Corduroy's don't cry! But she didn't have the energy to wipe them away just yet. Just enjoy the moment of peace.
"Oh good, you're awake!" Raggedy Ann sighed happily, setting the cloth down on the hard floor–wood, she could faintly make out–and quickly made an odd hand motion to the side, as if she were ushering somebody over. Raggedy Andy perhaps?
"How do you feel? Hungry? Sore? Sick? Feverish? Hungry? Oh wait, I already said that..."
Wendy scrunched her nose a bit as she tried to adjust to her rather uncomfortable position on the feel. Weird how you can still feel pain, even as a spirit. Oh well, stories can't get everything right.
"T-tired..." Her voice sounded way too hoarse. Hopefully the afterlife serves lattes this early. "Ann...I...is it you? I know Luke chucked you in the fire but I didn't know dolls could go to heaven. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Whoa there, sweetheart," came that soothing voice as a glass was held up to her dry, dry lips.
Wendy could barely feel herself being lifted up into a sitting position, only vaguely registering her head tilting backwards at an awkward angle, but relishing in the sweet relief that was the icy water pouring down her throat. She greedily lapped up every drop she could before suddenly being cut off by a sneaky cough and the glass was suddenly pulled away. She leaned to her side, back twisted at an angle so that she wouldn't make a mess of herself or her guest.
Long story short, she ended up puking all over the floor.
Groaning, she didn't bother to brush her long tussled hair out of her face as she lazily tried to brush away any dangling strands of vomit off from her chin with a shaky wrist, heaving as a large hand rubbed large circles on her back.
"Sick huh? That's alright sweetie, my children get sick all the time, especially since most of them are young'ins. Just sit tight and rest for a bit while I whip up the best herbal tea you'll never forget!" And with that, the kind Raggedy Ann-looking woman waddled away in a dark green dress and white apron that resembled something Wendy could've sworn she saw once on Pioneer Day.
Still, she could've help but show more than a little embarrassment as a pretty red-headed girl in a blue dress ran in with a mop and bucket to clean up her mess, with her letting out a hoarse sorry with no acknowledgement given. So she just sat there for a moment, allowing herself to become somewhat aware of her surroundings.
She was in a house, nothing too extravagant, just a plain old, cozy little house. There was fireplace and two sofas placed parallel of one another. There was a small rung that a white dog with brown spots was cozied up on, catching some Z's. Meanwhile she was lying on what she first assumed was a cot, until she felt the material and realized was just a plain old sheet. There was clinking and low humming very close by, so she assumed that was the kitchen.
A delightful smell wafted into the room, or at least that's what she thought. The girl in blue took a moment to pause from her mopping to take in a breather and instantly made a face of disgust.
"Ick! Mom's making that stuff again!" She paused, looked over at Wendy, and suddenly the room felt very, very hot.
"Do you want me to leave this out just in case, well, you know..."
Wendy didn't get a chance to answer as the girl's mother skipped back in, a delicate China teacup in her hands with steam rising from the top. The girl resumed her work, whistling innocently, while the woman handed Wendy her tea.
"Here ya go, sweetie! Made fresh with herbs from Ms. Whispers garden!"
The girl scoffed but quickly went back to smiling and whistling not even a second after her mother shot her a warning glare. Wendy, meanwhile, smiled softly and inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet, sweet aroma without a care in the world.
"Th-thank you so much, Miss–" she paused to cough, after all it was no time to talk with a voice like that. "Miss–"
"Oh honey, save your voice!" The woman cried, kneeling down beside her. Wendy nodded as her long bangs were suddenly pushed back and gently tucked behind her ear. "I'm Margaret Altair, and that over there is my...loving daughter, Beatrice."
Wendy glanced over at the girl–Beatrice–who gave her a wave before going back to mopping up the vomit. With a small smile, she nodded in acknowledgment and inhaled the sweet smell of the tea before shakily lifting the cup to her lips and taking a long sip.
She vomited again.
"We now talk with the father of this unfortunate victim, Manly Dan Evelyn Corduroy. Manly Dan, what do you think happened to your daught—?"
Shandra didn't even have time to finish the question as the microphones was suddenly ripped away from her delicate hand into the large, shaky fist of a furious, furious father.
"IF THE PERSON WHO TOOK MY PRECIOUS BABY GIRL AWAY FROM ME IS WATCHING THIS, IF YOU DON'T GIVE HER BACK IMMEDIATELY, I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN, STOMP ON YOUR THROAT, RIP YOUR CHEST OPEN, TEAR OUT YOUR HEART, CHOP IT INTO LITTLE PIECES, DUMP A TON OF SALT ON IT, SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROATS UNTIL YOU CHOKE ON IT, AND THEN I'M GONNA TAKE THIS AXE AND CHOP OFF YOUR–!"
A large portion of this following rant ended up having to be heavily censored as the language it contained ended up being so unapologetically vulgar that even a high profile sailor who blush. It had since been replaced with a loud ongoing bleep sound effect as the lumberjack screamed and screamed until his large beard was indistinguishable from the rest of his face, while bystanders either ran away with their childrens' ears covered or their own ears covered. As Dan swung his axe around as the literal mad man that he was and made excessively lewd hand gestures, even Shandra and the cameraman began to look noticeably nervous, the latter of which started to slowly back away. In fact, the only reason the former even dared to stick around was to retrieve her microphone, which he didn't even need by this point and had already begun to crush it in his meaty fist.
It was when he punched a nearby tree so hard that he ended causing a chain reaction of tree after tree causing each other to fall like a stack of dominos creeping closer and closer to the unfortunate camera man, who screamed and ran from the scene like it was hell on earth, as anyone left staggering behind after the swear storm followed into pursuit. Even Shandra managed to get back her pitiful, shriveled form of a microphone and somehow managed to sprint past him in heels, still smiling and looking pretty like the professional that she was.
"Thank you Manly Dan for your insightful thoughts!"
The beep was suddenly cut off as the swearing was put on halt for the man the scream, in full volume despite being about a mile away by that point, "YOU HEAR THAT?! YOU HEAR THAT?! DON'T LET ME FIND YOU, YOU JERKS! I MEAN IT! SHE WAS SO YOUNG!"
As the manly man wept manly tears of manliness, trees continued to crash down harder and harder. Having an apparent suicide wish, the camera man, with his trusty camera, spares one last glance at the grieving father who had now pulled all three of his younger, scrawny sons into a hug that no doubt broke a few bones and made their faces pale.
"Dad!"
"We can't breathe!"
"BASK IN DADDY'S MANLINESS, LITTLE ONES! I'll protect you..."
The camera man lets out a hum of approval before realizing something very, very important. Most specifically, the very large and thick tree tumbling down on top of him at a very, very fast angle, looming in closer and closer to the camera.
He took off running again.
"Oh SHI–"
There's a loud crash, the sound of glass shattering, and the screen goes to static before cutting to a sign.
TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.
PLEASE STAND BY.
Beatrice sighed as she scrubbed furiously at the white cotton tank top in the basin with the sponge, in a vain attempt of ridding the clothes of the dirt and mess that had stained it.
Wendy, after getting literally everything out of her system, was ushered upstairs by Mrs. Margaret for a bath and a fresh change of clothes. Washing in a literal tub was overall pretty awkward, especially with the only other girl there sent in to help out upon the realization that their guest had no idea what she was doing. It was especially awkward with Beatrice having to "guide her" through the experience, hands on, with her eyes closed and a very red face.
The latter sincerely hoped Wendy wasn't lying when she claimed to have gotten the hang out it.
But as she was now dried off in a towel, she rummaged through Beatrice's closest, upon realizing that the two had a similar dress size, for a formidable outfit but found none to her taste. Although the ones with gold coins sewn into them were certainly eye-catching, to say the least.
"So, how did you guys find me?"
Beatrice paused from her scrubbing, glanced over at the girl, and shrugged.
"I don't honestly know how exactly. My dad and brother, Jared, said they found you when they went hunting in the woods."
"Hunting? Why don't you just go to the store?"
Beatrice paused for a second before seemingly realizing what she really meant. So, she continued to scrub. "Well, we go to the market every Sunday, but we usually try to get pure animal meat due to it just tasting better."
"Isn't hunting animals for food illegal?"
"Has it ever been?"
"I...don't know."
"Right..."
So they went back to their duties, scrubbing and rummaging for a few more minutes in silence.
That is, until:
"Wait, the store's open all the time!"
Beatrice paused, nearly dropping her brush in the wash, as she tried to process what had just been said whilst crinkling her nose and squinting her eyes. She looked back over at Wendy, who was currently examining a green dress with interest.
"What are you talking about? The market's only open on the weekend."
Wendy gave her an odd look.
"No, last I checked it was open twenty-four hours a day."
Beatrice's eyebrows rose at this proclamation.
"It is?"
Wendy shrugged, holding out the dress and looking over it in a body-length, ovular mirror.
"I mean, that's how it usually is near here."
"Where's here?"
"Near Gravity Falls, duh! The supermarket's open all the time!"
Beatrice did drop the sponge in the wash this time, and her eyes went wide as the realization hit her like a rock at a bird. The odd, inappropriate clothing, the strange use of slang, the smell of hairspray...this wasn't just a girl from the town.
This was a lost kid.
Feeling dread creep into her stomach, she breathed in and out and stared at the bubbly concoction in the bucket sitting at her knees. But no matter how much she tried to control it, bile rose in her throat and her gloved hands shook.
Calm down, Beatrice. Think rationally, you saw him get destroyed. His lantern was blown out by that Woodsman. There's no way he could be back. I mean, who could relight a freaking soul for the lord's sake?
But still she couldn't help but have that feeling.
Where does she think she is?
"Hey, this actually would look pretty good on me," Wendy said, admiring herself in the mirror with the long sleeved, turquoise blue dress with a low neckline in her hand, "but you're sure you don't have anything in flannel?"
Beatrice rolled her eyes.
"We are now in the Gravity Falls General Hospital, here to see the fellow witnesses with Ms. Corduroy on the night of her disappearance. Unfortunately, due to our previous camera man's unfortunate...accident..."
There was a pause as the camera swung around to show Toby Determined, now commonly called "Bodacious T" wrapped head-to-toe in a very body cast and lying on a hospital bed. Even his Mohawk was somehow bandaged.
"I can't feel my legs...or anything really..." He whined, muffled by the bandages wrapped over his mouth.
Shandra tried to look as sincere as she could in a professional sense, really meaning not in the slightest, as she deadpanned, "Our apologizes, T. Your next paycheck will be sure to cover your medical bills."
"Hooray!"
"Anyway," back to the news then, "we move on to speak with the victims of the crash Ms. Corduroy disappeared in. Those teenagers are notorious high school delinquents: Robbie Stacey Valentino, Trambry Michelle DiCicco, Lee Richard Rianda, Lee Lulu Mendel, and Thompson Sheldon Dweebous. Prepare yourselves to hear their daring stories of bravery..."
"AHHHH!"
"IDINDOANATHANG!"
"MOMMY! DADDY! IT HURTS! DEAR MOTHER OF GOD IT HURTS!"
"I SEE THE LIGHT! IT'S FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES!"
"That's the ceiling light above you. It's about to go out."
"Oh...AHHHHHH! IT'S ABOUT TO GO OUT! I DON'T WANNA GO OUT! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—!"
There was a knock on the door, which Ms. Palmer was all too hesitant to answer. It wasn't a silly thought, that she always feared there would be a stranger telling bad news concerning her sons but now they were home, asleep in their beds at one in the morning.
Holding the door open at a crack, she was alarmed by bright, bright, almost looking white, blue eyes peering through the cracks against the darkness, although she could vaguely make out the shape of this man's head.
Then there was a smile, kind and gentle, with each tooth pearly white.
"Is this the Palmers residence?"
Sheila Palmer swallowed nervously. He'd only said one sentence and she already didn't trust him; he could be hiding a gun for all she knew.
"W-why?"
The man smiled, and squeezed his black gloved hand through the crack in the door–making the woman jump–but instead of a weapon, as expected, there was a small bouquet of flowers.
White roses to be exact.
"My name is Thomas Ripley, although I mostly go by Ripley," he explained in a calm, soft voice, "I just moved here and I will be going to the same school as Wirt. In fact, I think we're in the same grade! He's a freshman, right?"
Mrs. Palmer looked over the man, or boy, as good as she could from this angle.
"You don't look like a high schooler..."
"Oh, that's what they all say!"
Nodding, Mrs. Palmer took the roses and began to slowly inch the door closed. She didn't trust this boy, no matter what he claimed. Still, she tried to be as nice as possible.
"Well it's very nice to meet you, uh, Ripley! I'm sure you and Wirt will have a lot to talk about later on in the day! Now go and get some sleep, okay? Goodnight!"
The door was closed with one last word.
"Goodnight."
"And now, we talk with Ms. Corduroy's employer, former Mystery Shack handyman, turned recent Mr. Mystery after having the mantle passed down by town hero, Stanley Pines, we present to you: Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez. Mr. Ramirez, what do you think of this tragedy involving your star employee?"
As Soos suddenly had a live camera on him, he felt a lot hotter in his suit than he previously thought. Tugging at his sweaty collar, he smiled with shaky teeth and coughed a bit into the microphone.
"W-well, I wouldn't say that this is a t-tragedy exactly as it is a...r-regular occurrence. You see, W-Wendy's cool, dawg, a-and she'll sometimes skip out on w-work and I'll l-let her because I'll say 'hey, y-you're cool, d-dawg', a-and she'll say..."
He trailed off, his eyes glazing over and his mouth hanging open as he tried to get the words out of his mouth, too many sets off eyes on him, and he ended up glancing over at the soda machine in wonder.
"UNEXPECTED DISTRACTION!"
Then, without warning, he grabbed the cash register, yanked it right off its cord, and chucked it right at the soda machine. Innocent, stupid tourists cried out and struggled to get out of the way of the heavy, money-filled missile. It smashed into the control panel, sending out a shower of sparks and a loud boom could be heard. The register, however, stayed perfectly in tact—so no free money was taken out of this—and landed on the floor with a crash.
There was a moment of silence as Soos, Shandra, the new camera guy, and everyone else watched smoke rise from the soda machine, immediately setting off the sprinklers and giving them all an early shower.
"Oh look, the soda machine is broken," Soos said in a voice that was more akin to a robot than anything else, his toolbox in his grasp all of a sudden. "I must go fix it because that's what I do. Fixing things that are broken. Doo, doo, doo, going to fix things..."
Everyone was so busy staring at the man who was no doubt a mystery at the moment or trying not to get wet from the sprinklers, that nobody noticed one of the triangular windows high on the wall blink just once.
Shandra looked at the camera and then back on Soos, who was still in his own little world repairing the machine whilst singing a little ditty. She gave up at long last and shrugged.
"And now back to Brady in the studio, with the daily cute cat video."
A/N TIME
*Crawls out from bunker*
Well, it's certainly been a long time gone, hasn't it?
Life isn't really easy when your struggling with school, having to cope with the loss of your grandmother, or having writer's block. But just so you all know: I never plan on abandoning this story. Why would I? It's earned me a surprising amount of fans and followers within this past year alone! I never expected my honestly unexpected hiatus to go on for this long with little warning. Like I stated previously, I just lost a dear family member and needed time to reconsider where I want to go with this story, as well as work on my own novel, Skin Trade.
I've come to a decision to where I want to go with this story; for those of you out there wondering when my garden sweethearts will hightail it to Gravity Falls, this is for you's.
As of now, this story will be in three parts, as followed:
• Chapters 1-21 will be Part I: Winter (The build-up for when they arrive in GF)
• Chapters 22-42 will be Part II: Summer (For when they are actually in GF)
• Chapters 43 onwards will be the surprise plot, although I have a feeling you all probably know what it is.
If any of you have a problem with this, I sincerely apologize. I will also try to keep a scheduled release of each chapter, although I can't make promises. In all honesty, I think I work better the more time I take, as I personally think this is my best chapter yet. I've tried to tap into so many voices of so many characters, it's a little overwhelming, but hey, still had fun.
I'll also be posting stories for my other fandoms like Sherlock, Merlin, SU, Eddsworld, Tin Man, etc. as well as my own original work "I Had A Best Friend Named Anne". Can't wait to get started!
Apologies if my writing looks off. Again, working on original novel, and thus, research ahoy! Oh yes, it's one those stories.
And now, I must crawl back into my bunker for hibernation (at least until my birthday–October 9th–or when I come back to you, adore)
Until we meet again, my pretties~!