Hn, no exact Au title to this. Just an idea I had and wanted to get out on here. I have a lot of ideas, but I also wanna hear you-guyses ideas, as well!
Enjoy!
)Edit: Okay, I finally figured out how stuff is going to go down now. Sorry for those that sorta-liked th first version, but I wrote it while extremely sleep-deprived and therefore it didn't turn out at it'd best. So, I'm just gonna hope you like this and won't try to kill. Besides, if you kill me, who will continue and finish these for y'all? Point proven.(
Drabble 6: Dealing with Different Dimensions, Pt. 1
Sum:
When dimensions spring hay-wire and cross with one another because of the resulting blast of energy from the portal, a very scared and vaguely-familiar blonde-haired little boy is carried out of the portal with . . .someone. Someone familiar. Who are they? What happened? And why are they so scared of Dipper?
Universe:
Bill Sife-R., crossed with Canon
(More of a what-is sitch more than anything
I'm honestly falling in love with little Human!Bill's
Design. Can't get enough of him!)
A`N:
So, I'm perusing tumblr for inspiration(since no one has sent in any other requests)
and I thought I'd just draw up a quick sappy-feely one. No clue yet what it's about,
I'm sorta making it up as I go along. No idea how this'll
turn it, it's a disconnected(from any specific timeline),
brand-new experiment. But hey, isn't most writing that, anyway?
It was night. The portal now seemed dead and lifeless.
Stanford wasn't so sure.
Occasionally, readings would suddenly spike, randomly, and with there seeming to be no cause at all.
That's what alarmed him. There seemed to be no cause, yet it kept happening. The biggest that something beyond his reasoning and logic was the fuel meter; it would occasionally spike high, sometimes halfway, sometimes three quarters of the way to full, even though there was no more fuel to speak of at all. He wasn't sure what to expect anymore.
By the fifth night of this, the fuel meter leapt to full; the portal sparked, despite it's damaged state. Pebbles started to float upwards, as well as other things. Ford raced, checking dials and typing in shutdown codes into the master network of the computer system tied to the portal, trying to stop whatever was happening. The gravity returned to normal; there was a miniature flash from the portal, and suddenly, two figures tumbled through.
Ford gawked from behind the glass, watching as the portal sparked once more before the blue glow went out completely, dead once more. First one, then the other stood. The taller steadied the smaller, finally scooping them up as they tripped, before slowly heading towards the door.
Shaking himself, Ford moved over and blocked the doorway. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" he demanded.
The taller jumped, nearly dropping the other, who cursed profusely under his breath with a wide variety of nasty words that Ford was sure would make even Lee blush.
"Gr-grunkle Ford?" the taller asked in disbelief and hope. It was a female voice, and a quick glance in the dim light revealed a long, purple skirt or dress, a brightly-colored sweater covering her arms, and a dark blue cloak with a hood on her head, the settled around her shoulders and hiding the rest of her attire.
The younger was decidedly male, with black pants, black t-shirt covered by a yellow vest with a black brickwork pattern traced from the edge of the ribs down, black sneakers and socks, a small black bow-tie, and a similar cloak that was dark green with splashes of deep brown here and there. It was clear why he was being carried.
One leg was hanging at a twisted angle, little bits of blood dripping from the half-shredded pant-leg.
Ford took this all in within a few seconds. "How do you know my name?" he asked guardedly.
The young woman appeared hurt by this question, but the boy, perhaps around fourteen or fifteen, piped up in a strained, irritated voice. "We were warned; we were told we might end up in the past of a different dimension; did you listen? No! Are we in the past of our own dimension? No! We're stuck in a place we don't know or understand with people who'll just as likely kill us as help, just like back 'home'! So how about it, Mabes, wanna go home now? TOO LATE!"
The boy barked out a dry, sarcastic laugh, lacking all humor and sounding rather bitter. "Now, we're stuck here, and we can't ever go back!" this time, his voice was thick with tears, and he began to sob, curling in on himself.
The woman gave Ford a pleading look as she held the teen closer, hugging him to her torso. "Please," she begged, voice suddenly familiar somehow. "Can't you at least help patch us up? We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning, night, whatever time it is, but please. We need some help." her eyes, just visible, were big and round and starting to fill with tears.
Ford nodded mutely, beckoning for them to follow him. The woman walked right past him, glancing around with recognition flashing in her eyes, going straight for the elevator as if she owned the place.
Or knew it like the back of her hand.
They stepped inside the elevator, the woman humming quietly under her breath with a tune that felt familiar.
As the elevator carried them higher, then up the stairs and into the kitchen, even as Ford hushed them both and searched for the first0aid kit, the two softly sang the same familiar tune under their breaths.
"~Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.~" the woman sang first.
"~In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp,~" the teen picked up, before they joined together in song.
"~When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.~" a pause, and the boy carried on alone for a piece.
"~"Fools," said I, "You do not know.
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you.
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence. . .~" he dropped off into a bare whisper, eyes tearing up.
"~And the people bowed and prayed,~" the woman picked up,
"~To the neon god they made.~" he returned, strangely bitter.
"~And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming.~" they sang together.
"~And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.~" the teen sang alone once more, before they finished together.
"~And whispered in the sounds of silence."~" they trailed off, apparently finished.
Ford brought over the first-aid kit he'd found and set it on the kitchen table, opening it up and beginning to rifle through it. "That sounded familiar." he mentioned off-handedly, pulling out a roll of gauze and some disinfectant.
The boy nodded, now sitting in a chair at the table, the girl standing just behind him. "'The Sound of Silence'. Simon and Garfunkel." he replied evenly, the pain leaking through his voice.
Ford paused, thinking. "How old are you two?" he asked, pulling out a tiny pair of scissors and a bottle of painkillers. "That song was popular in the sixties or seventies. Where'd you hear it?"
The woman seemed about to answer, but the teen shifted slightly and cried out in pain, interrupting her. Ford sighed and crouched next to him. "Where are you hurt?" he asked.
The boy pulled up his right pant leg, revealing four long, deep marks that were oozing blood. Ford sucked in a quick breath at the sight, but went about disinfecting it and wrapping it up as tightly as he could. The boy hissed quietly in pain and bit his lip, but didn't cry out again.
When Ford finished, the lad stopped him from putting anything up. "Her arm." he nodded to the woman. She seemed about to protest, but took a seat in the other chair, removed her cloak entirely, and pulled off her sweater.
She had long brown hair down in a simple braid down her back, and brown eyes, and a face that seemed so, so familiar, of only Ford could remember where from. On her arm was a sloppily-made bandage, and when he unwound it, he found a large gash, about as big as his hand, on her shoulder. It, too, he cleaned up and disinfected, wrapping it up tightly in fresh bandages.
She winced and whimpered and yelped, trying to refrain from wriggling as he did so. When he was done, she stood slowly and carefully stretched her arms. Then, she pulled her sweater back on, then the cloak, though she didn't pull the hood back up.
The boy sat up a little straighter, and shoved off his head, revealing a head full of tousled corn-yellow hair, his right, baby-blue eye visible, and a small grin on his face.
"We heard that song from our two grunkles, Stan and Stan." he replied, grinning wide, almost too wide for a human face, yet somehow pulling it off. "When we were down in the Last Woods before the Swift March, you and Grunkle Lee taught us the song. It really reflected a part of our mission; it gave us hope where we needed it, and helped us to fight when we most needed to rally up and not hold back to win the battle. . . ." he trailed off, visible eye widening and filling with tears, a small, pale hand reaching up to touch his left eye, still unseen beneath his messy locks.
The woman placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling tearily. "It's alright, Bill." she comforted, though Ford bristled at the name. "It's alright. Like you said earlier, this is a new place, and we might be able to change things for the better should they repeat."
"Bill?" Ford demanded, eyeing them warily.
The woman nodded. "My name is Mabel Pines, and this is my younger cousin Bill Sife Rashald, or Sife-R. to most of the other troops. Best strategist and spy anyone could ask for." she sniffed a little, using one hand to quickly swipe at her eyes, getting rid of any tears.
Ford scowled. "'Bill Sife R.'? As in Bill Cipher? The dream demon?!" he demanded, backing up slightly.
Bill flinched and Mabel tensed. "No, not Bill; Magnus Uncus and Gideon are the demon and the demon-possessed. We've been fighting him with the other rebels since I was sixteen and Bill here was twelve."
"We were told to go through the portal to escape before they arrived. We weren't sure whether or not we were diving into something even worse than what we were leaving behind." Bill continued for her, staring at Ford with half pleading, half scared eyes.
"Bill is a demon here." Ford replied stubbornly, trying to think of what to do.
Mabel frowned. "Here, and for you; yes, perhaps there is a demon of that name. But in OUR dimension, Bill is just a kid dragged into a war he didn't have to fight in, yet he did so anyway. We've both been hurt . . ." she trailed off, tears starting to cascade down her cheeks as she let out a hiccuping sob.
"I thought you'd be proud of us . . . you and Lee were the leaders of our group . . . you made me and Mabel the back-up leaders, just in case. . . . we never thought we'd ever have to . . . ." tears were falling from his own eyes now, but he carried on in a half-choked, pleading voice.
"We never thought we'd have to take your place . . . ."
An idea that occurred. If the portal connects to different dimensions, who's to say it won't connect to the one where we have Magnus Uncus and Bill Sife-R. with his older cousin Mabel staying at the Mystery Shack? And then . . . this happened.
The song is "The Sound Of Silence" by "SIMON & GARFUNKEL". I thought it'd be fun.
"RMQFIVW, YFIMVW, ZH Z BLFMT XSROW
GSLFTSG GL YV XIZAB MLMV~GL~NROW
KZHHVW UILN WLXGLI GL WLXGLI ULI SRH JFRIPH
YFG MLGSRMT VEVI HVVNVW GL WL GSV DLIPH.
YFOORVH ZMW QVIPH GL GLINVMG ZMW GZFMG
ZMW SV WRW SRH YVHG GL RTMLIV GSV QZFMGH
QVIP~GZFMGH, QVIPSVZWH, SV KIVEZROVW GSILFTS
FMGRO SV NVG GSV XLMNZM SRH KZIVMGH PMVD. . .
UILN SRN, SV OVZIMVW GL IVKORXZGV
ZMW SRWV SRH VNLGRLMH UILN GSLHV SV SZGVH,
YFG MLD SV SZH VEVM NLIV GL SRWV
ZMW Z XVIGZRM VMVNB SRH ZGGZXP DROO YRWV."
Sorry, guest reviewer "Candymouse22", but you didn't exactly pick a topic, but kudos to figuring it out and suffering through the decoding of my nonsense! He's a new one for you guys to solve! Same stakes as before! You win, you pick any kind of oneshot idea/topic! Your choice what I exploit!
(This is the same as in the last chapter; hurry up, you guys! *playful laughter*)