Still not much to say here. Onto replies, then!
France-Sandra: I'm glad you like the story. We'll have to wait and see what the relationship between Mabel and Bill will turn out to be (Not MaBill, though. Definitely not).
I plan on everyone meeting Alter at least once, so you don't have to fret about Dipper never meeting Alter. When you say 'the two of them combined', do you mean Dipper and Alter or Dipper and Pacifica?
Candymouse22: I'm glad you approve! And yeah, Stanford was getting kinda desperate, so that's why he took the risk of trusting another demon.
Purest of the Hearts: Hmm, I am not familiar with this NiGHTS character. Although I doubt they will be too similar to Alter, because my girl is a wildcard that's as unpredictable as a rabid dog.
Well, I'm done with that. Enjoy! Oh, and I put Liliana Dragonshard in this chapter, too! You're awesome, gal!
Chapter 5 – Clothes and Fishing Rods
The next day, Stanley took Dipper and Mabel to the lake for a spot of fishing. Stanford and Bill had stayed behind; the former because he needed to finish up a bit of work, the latter because he wasn't allowed.
It was around one o'clock when Stanford was finally finished with what he was doing. Standing up, he left the lab. It hardly occurred to him that he was being paranoid when he double checked for any signs of someone (aka Bill) having made an attempt to get into the lab. Although he did start getting suspicious of himself after the fourth check.
"You have nothing to worry about, Stanford," he told himself firmly as he walked into the kitchen to get himself some lunch. He knew that his brother would never stop whining about it if he didn't. After washing out his coffee mug and leaving it to dry, he wandered around the house in search of Bill. He'd left the ex-demon to his own devices whilst he worked, which probably wasn't his best idea yet.
There was a moment of paranoid anxiety when he couldn't find Bill anywhere in the Shack, but after walking out onto the porch, he was relieved to find that the blond-haired boy was just hobbling around on his crutches after Waddles and Gompers with a childish grin on his face.
"Wait!" he called, struggling to keep up with the two animals on his scrawny limbs. "I can't move so fast with these human legs!"
Much to his own surprise, Stanford chuckled in amusement at the boy's antics. If he hadn't known any better, then he would've believed that it was just another kid playing with the family pets. Of course; he did know better, and he wasn't going to stop knowing any time soon.
He was interrupted from his thoughts when Bill quietly shuffled up to him. "Could I get something to eat?" he asked. "My stomach feels sore. That's when humans know they've gotta eat, right?"
"Sure," Stanford said bluntly, realising that he was also hungry; having not had anything to eat since breakfast. "Then we can go to town and get you some decent clothes. Stanley was rather sparing when I asked him to get you some last week."
"Okay. Um, how are we going to get there? Stanley took the car."
Stanford frowned. That was going to be a problem. "I suppose we'll have to walk," he muttered.
At this, Bill looked apprehensive. "Right. So what's for lunch?"
"Stanley left some sandwiches in the fridge. We'll have those, and then be on our way."
Bill nodded and followed Stanford inside, with Waddles on his heels. He hastily ate the ham and salad sandwich that his temporary guardian had placed in front of him before pulling on his blue coat over the oversized Mystery Shack t-shirt he wore. Grabbing his crutches, he hobbled after Stanford down the dirt road leading to Gravity Falls. His broken leg resulted in the trek being a lot longer than it normally would have been.
About two thirds of the way there, Stanford noticed that the ex-demon was lagging behind. Looking back, he saw that Bill's arms were shaking, and he was sweating as he strained to carry on forward.
"Is everything alright?" Stanford enquired as he waited for Bill to catch up.
"I'm okay," Bill grunted as he finally reached the man's side.
Unconvinced, Stanford raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he pressed, because if the nuisance wasn't alright, then god forbid if Alter thought he wasn't doing a good enough job of looking after him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Bill dismissed. "Just… just a bit warm."
Stanford frowned and looked down the path. It wasn't too far, but with Bill struggling like he was, it'd still take a while. "You're tired," he stated bluntly. "Look, if you carry on pushing yourself like that, then you'll be too tired to do much when we get to town. I'll carry you the rest of the way."
Bill looked up at him sceptically, but he had to admit that Six-Finger had a point. It was getting harder and harder to keep going. If he did consent to being carried, then it was less effort on his part.
"Okay," he said. He gave a small yelp in surprise when Stanford lifted him up and placed him squarely on his shoulders, before holding a hand up to take his crutches from him. Once the scientist had the crutches firmly grasped in one hand; the other carefully holding Bill in place by the knee; and said boy was comfortably perched on top of him, he started moving forward at a steady jog.
Bill immediately held onto Stanford's head by his hair as he was carried along at a swift pace. Laughing, he relished in the feeling of air rushing past his face as it cooled his warm skin somewhat. This was actually quite fun. Not as amazing as dancing through black holes in the Mindscape, but still enjoyable.
Meanwhile, Stanford was trying to ignore the painfully tight grip that Bill had on his hair. He was thankfully lighter than Mabel or Dipper, so he allowed himself to take liberties with how fast he was going. If he managed to keep going at this pace, they'd arrive in town within ten minutes. Eight, if he pushed himself a little more.
They were about two minutes away when Bill started whimpering poignantly instead of laughing. He seemed to be in pain, so Stanford slowed to a stop. He still didn't like the former demon, but he might as well make an effort.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"Leg hurts," Bill murmured unhappily. Stanford sighed. He thought he'd made sure not to jostle the kid's leg. It seemed no matter how much care he took, such a thing would be inevitable.
"Okay. I'll go more slowly now; we're pretty close to town anyway."
Bill let out a small noise of acknowledgement, and Stanford continued on his way; walking this time. A few minutes later, he was walking into the town.
"Time to start walking again," Stanford said gruffly as he lifted Bill off of his shoulders and handed the crutches to him. "Stay close to me, okay? I do not need you wandering off."
For a moment, Bill looked as if he was actually considering disobeying him, but the expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Okay," he consented.
Nodding firmly, Stanford started walking down the street with Bill close by his side. After a short while, they reached a clothing store that bore several signs declaring most stuff was on sale, and headed for the area where the smaller clothes were kept.
"Okay, do you see anything that catches your interest?" Stanford asked, pulling out his wallet and checking how much cash he had. Twenty-five bucks and change; not a huge amount of money, especially since he didn't have a credit card at the moment, but that was why he went for this particular store; the sale made pretty much everything dirt cheap.
"Umm…" Bill mumbled as he slowly wandered about to take everything in. His eyes quickly settled on a black t-shirt that was decorated with different coloured, interlocking triangles. Typical. "I like this one," he said, clumsily lifting one from the rack. Stanford checked the price and saw that it was only a dollar thanks to the fact that it was on sale. Noting this, he rifled through them for one that was Bill's size, and thankfully there was one.
By the time they were done, they'd picked out several shirts, two pairs of shorts, a pair of jeans, a new set of pyjamas, and a decent supply of clean underwear. As he paid at the counter, he noticed that the young woman behind the till (whose name tag read Lily) was paying more attention to him than he felt comfortable with.
"Another Pines?" she finally asked as she scanned the iconic triangle shirt that Bill had first picked out.
Stanford shot a quick glance towards Bill, who was standing idly by the entrance. "Surprisingly, no," he said good-naturedly. "I've been working with his mother for the past few months." The well-practised lie flowed surprisingly smoothly from his lips. "She had to head to Tokyo for the summer, so I'm looking after him for her."
Lily smiled cheerily in Bill's direction. "He's sweet," she stated. "What's his name?"
"Bill. And you wouldn't be calling him sweet if you had to live with him. He's a troublemaker."
"Well, that's kids for you. My little cousin's his age, and hardly any different. How'd he break his leg?"
"He ran off into the woods not long after he first arrived. Then he fell out of a tree. The rest is obvious."
"Aaaw, poor thing. He's been okay besides that, right?"
"He's been a little miserable about the whole thing, but it shows he's learned his lesson at least."
"He does seem a little down in the dumps, doesn't he?" She scanned the final item and put it in the bag. "That's… fifteen bucks, forty-seven cents."
Stanford rifled through his wallet and brought out a twenty dollar bill; placing it on the counter.
Wait… Stanford halted his train of thought momentarily. Oh, god, Stan had better not catch wind of that pun.
"Here's your change," Lily announced as she handed Stanford the money and clothes. "Oh, and take this; I'm never going to use it. Might cheer the kid up a little."
Surprised, Stanford took the offered piece of card. It was a family coupon for an all-you-can-eat restaurant that Stanford had noticed opening up recently. "Thank you," he said. "I'm sure he'll enjoy it."
"No problem. I know how it feels to be stuck with a broken leg. Well, I'll see you around. It's a small town after all."
"I'm sure. Again; thank you."
Lily responded with a dismissive smile, and Stanford picked up the bag of clothes, turning to leave. Bill followed him out of the door, and they both turned out onto the street outside.
"Are we going back to the Shack now?" Bill enquired.
"I need to pick up a few things, first," Stanford said. "Once we get those, we can head back."
"Okay."
Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was fishing for the Gobblewonker again. Okay, maybe not exactly. Everyone thought that was what he was doing with the ramshackle fishing rod and small, rusty metal toolbox full of makeshift lures. In actuality, he was just trying to catch himself dinner for the next few days. He'd given up on trying to catch the monster of the lake. But hey, he wouldn't be mad if he got lucky.
Right now, he was sat at the edge of the lake, contently plucking random notes on his banjo whilst he waited for a bite. People were ignoring him, which wasn't a surprise, seeing as how he hadn't done anything to stir up any ridicule. As a result, his son hadn't made any attempts to drive him away.
"Hey, mind if I set up my stuff here?"
Fiddleford looked up in surprise at the source of the voice. Stood a couple of feet away from him was a young girl; hardly much older than eighteen; with a head of long, flowing-yet-messy purple hair that was tied up in a low ponytail, a pale, slender face and oddly mismatched eyes; the left a shimmering amethyst purple and the other a gleaming, metallic gold; set behind a pair of square-ish glasses with ocean blue rims. She wore beige combat trousers and a dark camouflage-patterned, sleeveless jacket that was adorned with multiple pockets over a light blue t-shirt and scuffed, well-worn walking shoes, and a black baseball cap with a logo so faded that it may as well have been declared nonexistent. A decent-looking fishing rod was slung over her shoulder, and she carried a small pack on her back. Her fingertips were smeared with a black substance; presumably ink.
"Sure thing lil' lady," Fiddleford consented. "I'd be a bit of a hornswaggler if I di'n't let ya have a gander at summa the bounty."
Immediately, the girl's face broke out into an elated smile. "Thanks," she said. Her voice was… quirky, to say the least. Typical tone of a girl her age, but with an oddly mixed accent that seemed to be a combination of English, American, a possible hint of Irish, and the bare minimum of Australian. "It's… McGucket, right?"
"You betcha. I'm a-guessin' yous ain't from 'round these parts, aintcha? 'Cause most folks seem t'know all 'bout me."
"I just moved here, actually," the girl stated nonchalantly as she set down her backpack and knelt down to set up a lure on her fishing rod. "I'd have come over more recently, but there was a bit of a struggle for the property, and I only just managed to claim legal ownership of it about a week ago. Hey, what sort of lure would be best for this part of the lake?"
"There's a lotta rainbow trout 'n these waters. Got any lures for those?"
"I think so," the girl muttered absent-mindedly as she rifled through her pack, bringing out a small box which she opened to reveal a more or less decent array of fishing lures. "Is one of these alright?" She held out a lure that was clearly designed to imitate a crawfish with a triple-pronged hook attached to it.
"Should do. Hey, I never asked fer yer name."
"It's Nina," the girl said as she fastened the lure to her line. "Nina White-Altar."
"Nice t'meetcha, Nina," Fiddleford greeted, holding out a hand for her to shake. "Yous can call me Fiddleford."
Nina's ever-present smile widened into a cheerful grin immediately. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Fiddleford," she said, eagerly grasping the offered hand and shaking it firmly.
Nina and Fiddleford spent the next several hours fishing alongside each other. The inventor quickly learned that his newest acquaintance was working as a freelance artist and writer (thus explaining the ink on her hands); currently looking for a publisher that would accept her literature (which she illustrated herself occasionally), and taking commissions online; and she'd also moved to Gravity Falls from England. Why such a bright and aspiring young lady would choose to live in such an odd town was beyond McGucket, but he didn't question it. Perhaps she was there for the anomalies that were so common here. They'd make decent inspiration for a writer.
In turn, Fiddleford told her some of his own stories; namely his quest for the Gobblewonker, and when he first met his raccoon wife. He managed to make her laugh on multiple occasions; the loud, insanely jubilant sound drawing confused and bewildered looks from passers-by that she clearly didn't care about; and whilst they waited for either one of their fishing rods to snag a bite, he treated her to several tunes on the banjo. When he'd offered to teach her, though, she'd politely declined, stating that if she was allowed to touch an instrument, the world would go deaf the moment she struck a chord.
Fiddleford managed to land himself several large trout and a few smallmouth bass during the time they spent talking. Nina had gotten several bites, but she had openly admitted from the start that she wasn't a well-practised angler. As a result, her first few attempts at reeling in a fish had ended in failure, but after tips and assistance from Fiddleford, she managed to land at least one trout. Apparently, such a thing was an accomplishment for her, because she spent the next five minutes bouncing around and cheering in a fashion that could only be described as hyper.
Eventually, angle of the sun started dipping ever closer to the horizon, and Nina began to notice.
"Well, I ought to head home," she said as she reeled in her line. "I'll see you around town?"
"Sure thing, missy," Fiddleford agreed, extending a hand towards the quirky young girl. "It's been nice makin' yer acquaintamence-. I mean acquaintance. It's been nice meetin' ya."
A cheerful smile graced Nina's features as she shook his hand in farewell. "Same here. You know; I enjoyed this. It brings back some good memories."
Fiddleford smiled as the girl's eyes filled with nostalgia. "Glad I could help reminisce."
Mismatched eyes gleaming cheerfully, Nina packed up her stuff and left. McGuckett watched her retreat down the winding dirt road that led to town, but then his attention was caught by light shining in his eye. Looking towards the source, he realised that it was being reflected by a necklace that lay in the dirt where Nina had been. From the thin silver chain hung an enamelled purple flame that would have matched the size of a typical coin, with a white spiral in the centre. Branching out from it was a pair of shiny white bat wings.
"N-Nina!" he stuttered out frantically, hastily picking up the pendant. "Ye forgot yer-. Huh?"
Fiddleford's worry turned to confusion as he looked down the road. Where Nina should have been, was little more than empty air.
The girl was nowhere to be seen.
((I've decided that I'm still doing the mini-roleplay thing at the end. Enjoy watching characters bicker like kids))
Howls: And I'm not even sorry for all of the above!
Stanley: Are you sure you should be writing accents? You're kinda laying it on thick with McGucket.
Howls: I do have my doubts, but I'm hoping that everyone in the reviews will let me know if I did a good enough job of it. Now, you agreed to say something for me?
Stanley: Review *is hit on the head by Alter* Ow! What was that for?
Alter: *glares at him* You forgot the magic word.
Stanley: Fine. Please review.
Alter: *nods* Much better.