The Northwest – ugh, McGucket – Estate was just as big as she remembered – and, somehow, despite the large number of items that had disappeared or been sold, more homely than it had ever been before.
That being homely in the sense of friendly, not in the same sense as the tiny atrocity of a Mystery Shack.
Pacifica shifted uncomfortably, feeling unseen eyes on her. Probably the old hobo again – she remembered having talked to him before, briefly, when she'd first been taken in, after her truly horrible parents had tried to sell her. She couldn't actually remember the conversation now, but that was the only actual conversation they'd had, which had somehow ended up with her being allowed to stay here.
She knew she'd seen the old man after that, several times, but she couldn't remember exactly what he'd looked like. It made her uneasy. The fact that the hobo could teleport made her uneasy too, he could appear literally anywhere.
So she'd squirreled herself away in her old quarters in the hopes the old man would leave her in peace, and so far, apart from dropping in to make sure she was feeling okay (how was she supposed to feel okay in this situation?) he'd done so.
His son was a little more tolerable, if a bit dull.
Honestly, what kind of crazy family had they born into, to have such a huge range of personalities? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
The feeling of unseen eyes vanished, and Pacifica sighed with relief, before focusing her attention back on her glittering hands and the various old jeweled artifacts and gold coins she'd managed to find in corners of the manor.
How can Mabel make her powers look so easy?
Oh, she'd used her powers before – that one time during her parent's fundraiser (or, in other words, their attempts to re-line their pockets) had even been kinda funny, even if she'd gotten a scolding and the bell for it. But now that she actually wanted her powers to work, they wouldn't.
Unacceptable. She was a Northwest – she should've been able to get it by now, but she couldn't, and Mabel was flying around out there like there was no tomorrow, throwing up sparkles or something like that, and oh-so happy-go-lucky and carefree. How come she had it easy all of a sudden?!
With a growl of frustration, Pacifica waved her hand at the collection of gems and metals, and in her fury the metals melted, seeping into the carpet, before vaporizing into gleaming dust and leaving the gems behind.
Well, there goes some more of the family fortune.
"You doing okay there, miss?"
She yelped and spun around, and the gems went flying through the air, landing on either side of the man's head and sticking into the door and walls. To his credit, McGucket's son barely even flinched, just took off his hat, looked carefully at it for marks, then put it back on and letting it slump over his eyes again.
"You okay?" he repeated, looking pointedly at the metal dust and the molten gold that was already cooling on the floorboards. "Need any help?"
Pacifica scoffed. "Like you'd be able to help me with any of this!"
"That wasn't a no."
Damn this commoner! Commoners weren't supposed to be so perceptive!
"It's fine!"
"Don't look too fine, miss."
Urgh, and the informalities. She could tolerate that from Dipper or Mabel, they were her own age, after all, but from this coot?
The man gave the metal and gems another cursory glance, before informing her bluntly, "It might be easier if you start with a smaller load first, Miss Northwest," and turning on his heels and leaving.
Oh, sure. Just practice with a smaller load first. She was supposed to get it right the first time!
With another angry huff, she reached down with one hand (being made out of mobile pieces of gold and jewelry was pretty handy if you didn't want to bend over) and began cleaning the dust off the floor.
"Pacifica!"
"Pacifica, darling, please come out! Your father and I want to speak to you!"
If she'd had any blood left to go cold, it would've done so the moment she heard those all-too-familiar voices outside the door.
Her parents. How had they gotten onto the grounds? Hadn't the McGuckets hired guards?
"Pacifica, get down here right this moment!"
She could ignore them – she'd done it in the past, at that disastrous party. She could do it again.
A familiar ringing made her freeze. Of course they'd brought the bell. They brought it with them everywhere, just in case their darling little daughter misbehaved.
"Pacifica, get down here!"
She couldn't get punished for the bell anymore, she told herself. They tried to sell her. They didn't want her anymore, she could stay and nothing would happen.
Ring ring.
The bell rang a few more times until there was finally the sound of a door opening on the floor below, and the sound of McGucket's voice, telling them to leave.
"We will not!" Her father proclaimed. "We will not leave until our daughter comes out to meet us."
Oh, so she was their daughter now? Temper boiling, she marched to the window and threw it open, letting blinding sun pour in and setting her whole body ablaze with reflected light.
"I stopped being your daughter the moment you tried to sell me!" she cried.
Her father raised the bell, frowning, but before he could ring it again, she reached out, and, with a quick swipe of her hand, sent the little instrument flying away.
It disappeared over the garden walls, tinkling merrily as it went, and disappearing into the woods below.
"I'm not coming with you!" she snapped to their stunned faces. "Find some other way to line your pockets with gold! You're not using me again!"
Several minutes later, when the McGuckets came looking for her, they found her holding out trembling, jangling hands, taking in deep calming breaths and watching a tiny system of gems and coins orbit around each other in thin air above her palms.