Mason "Dipper" Pines was glad the bus was empty, save for him and his sister.
If it was anyone else seeing him twirl the tiny silver hatchet expertly between his fingers, odds are that he'd have it taken away and he'd be sent to the police.
But this was his sister. The girl who has almost been caught several times for gambling, underage drinking, and murdering a criminal with both a chainsaw and a sadistic smile.
At the moment, Mabel Pines was laying on the double-seats across from him, back to the wall and headphones in her ears. She looked surprisingly comfortable, given where they were. She crossed and uncrossed her legs constantly. She was a free spirit, and all this pent up energy had to go somewhere. Whether it be fidgeting with her hair or annoying her twin out of his mind.
Dipper sat normally in his seat, casually (too casually) flipping spinning, twirling and tossing the delicate silver weapon with ease. It glinted playfully in the sunlight. Forged from the toughest of steel and the most beautiful of silver out there, the hatchet was no longer than the length of his forearm. It was his pride and masterpiece, and he spent hours every night shining, cleaning, and sharpening it, (more often than not cutting his hand on the blade, who's edge was 75% the length of his palm.)
The patterns etched into the handle were comforting as Dipper ran his thumb over the lines and curves designed to be nothing in particular. They were familiar. They stayed as they were with him. They stayed, unlike his so-called "friends." Stayed, unlike his father, the traitorous little son of a_
"Are we there yet, Dipstick?"
The familiar voice of his sister snapped him out of his thoughts. He threw on a sloppy half-grin, half-smirk. "Bored already, Glitter Girl?"
Mabel snorted in an incredibly unladylike manner. "It's been like 15 hours, Nerd. Are we close or not?"
The bus driver spoke up. "Last Stop: Gravity Falls, Oregon!"
Dipper smirked. "That's our queue."
They grabbed their respective luggage and walked out of the bus (Mabel did with some difficulty, given her trunks were stuffed to the brim with sweaters and art supplies.)
For a second, the pair didn't want to believe it. That this was gonna be their home (read: workplace) for the rest of the summer. A run-down tourist trap called the Mystery Sack (or Mystery Hack if you forgot the S that had fallen onto the roof.
"I-is that…?" Mabel stuttered out.
"Yeah. It is." Dipper answered.
They made the mistake of walking in, and their first summer in Gravity Falls had officially begun.