Gossip in Gravity Falls traveled at record speeds when the topic was astounding. With a tiny populace full of nose-butting chatterers, whenever there was something juicy, it got around. The instant people found out where Zander Maximillion was staying, the town knew it by heart in less than a day. By the time the police arrived to the crashed burning bird in the Corduroy Mill, everyone already knew some type of angel had fallen. By the hour Pacifica had returned to her home with a living, fire-breathing dragon, the whole town wanted to see the severely mutated Komodo dragon for themselves. While certainly not entirely accurate, the gossip spread fast enough for droves to rush to the gates of the Northwest Manor and crane their heads through the bars in attempts to see the young teen riding her newly acquainted dragon.
All except a single family, who had first-hand witnessed it.
The Pines and their associates had taken a rather lucky pair of weeks since the fourth of July to rejuvenate. Stanley Pines continued his business at scamming and touring. Soos and Yuki continued to improve and re-build the constantly decaying structure. Wendy Corduroy aided Yuki now in his watch-shifts, as she never slept. This turned out to be a blessing, as Yuki finally caught his first ever earth-based sickness.
All while the Twins practiced at their hardest.
Mabel's improvements since her telling of manipulating fire to her will had taken a sudden stop. The girl, in all her impressive capabilities and feats, suddenly had hit a roadblock. With Arline painstakingly trying to have her repeat the movement and perform as she did, Mabel was unable to fully replicate her own actions. While not discouraged, it wore her out tremendously.
Dipper on the other hand looked like Wendy felt. He, unlike the others of the Shack, had not stopped and taken a step back since the fourth of July. How could he? He had two very important missions and mysteries that he had to balance next to continuing his training with Mabel and her master.
Stumbling into the interior of the Mystery Manor, Dipper waved a hand to Soos and Yuki at the counter, silently passed his Grunkle Stan, and marched into the living room. Next to the couch had become his newest lair of study. With sweat and dirt from outside lingering on him and smelly as a teenage boy could be, Dipper sat down by the couch.
Grinding his teeth with his eyes closed, he pushed away the small pile of scribbled papers. Dozens of pages of notes he had taken all amounted to nothing. The topic of these papers?
"Wraith, wraith, wraaaiths," Dipper grumbled as he pulled open a collection of books: Journal one, two, and his own journal. Together, he was looking at the best source of information on the weird anywhere. Or at least, that's what Dipper told himself.
During the past two weeks, Dipper had stayed up tremendously late while studying on the myths and legends of the wraith. Sadly, there was no common text book on the undead, and wraith, as it seemed, were indeed a rare type. So, without a textual reference on how they worked, and were created, Dipper had to piece together his own manual of Wraiths. It was sloppy and inconclusive at best.
The stories and legends of the horrible creature were so far mostly exaggerated. The tales spoke of beings who lived in mountain caves and forest dwellings. It was told that in the night they could be seen as ghostly humans, roaming the wilds as lost, pained creatures who would rabidly attack on sight. They lost their personality and sense of self along with their colors: skin changing pale, and their eyes becoming light blue or steel in color. Dipper was often relieved to know this one possible fact. Wendy, thus far, had pale skin; but that was always the case. Her green eyes remained the same.
That was the most frustrating part to all his work and effort. Dipper had no answers not for himself, but for Wendy. It was no longer about his own curiosity, but for someone's future. The same Wendy that trusted his work and opinions. The same Wendy that had decided to come back and stay with them. The Wendy he still crushed horrible on.
Maybe curing her would be the bridge between friend and 'more' he needed. Either way, curing Wendy had little to no progress.
Then there was the second task in Dipper's mind: dealing with the enemy.
Graupner Kinley, self-proclaimed Warlock, had become the Twins newest number one baddie. Unlike previous enemies, he made no attempts to hide his intentions towards the two of them. There was seemingly no other agenda he had, other than being really happy with his own accomplishments and snarling the more he talked. The Warlock wouldn't be hiding in the town's populace and popularity, nor using official power of government backing to bully them around.
Their enemy, and his supposed allies, the unknown partner in crime, had too many times stuck out and taken a swing at the pines. Dipper wanted to know why. What would drive someone to attack not just the twins, but the town, so many times? Though the Warlock repeatedly told them his goal was power, for power's sake, why did it feel like there was tactic involved? Magic, itself, felt like more than enough to get what he wanted. What else did he want?
Dipper's hands instinctively scratched at where the scar of the cut had once been. Now merely a long, thin line across this forearm, Dipper remembered the spell that his blood had been needed for: a kind of detection spell. If he had remembered correctly, it had ended up failing; the Warlock had said something interfered with what he was looking for.
That was another topic for another debate with Mabel. He was before the journals, pouring over them and pulling out whatever he could to help cure his friend.
Or at least that was the plan. Sadly though, he found his eyes slowly closing.
"Gah," Dipper grumbled and slapped his face gently. "Wake up," he told himself. His eyes remained heavy. "Wake up!" he shouted, and fully slapped himself. "Ow," he whined, rubbing his stinging and now perfectly awake face.
"Dipper?"
He turned and found Mabel walking over. "Hey," he mumbled to her before turning back.
"Eugh, you could take a shower before you sit down for another six hours to read more books," she told him. Dipper grumbled, his shoulders locked up. Mabel kneeled down next to him, "C'mon dude. You need a break."
"I do!" he cried out. His sister had leaned back a bit. At his own outburst, Dipper groaned. He looked back to Mabel, and quickly said, "Sorry. I didn't mean that at you, like that."
She gave him a small nod. "Still no luck?" Mabel asked as she flopped down onto the couch, leaning over the arm to peer at him.
"None," he shook his head, "I've tried reverse-engineering a cause for Wraiths based on story and eye-witness accounts, but too many sources seem contradictory. Some confirm what Wendy said, that they hate to eat. Some say that they can fly and are shadows themselves. Wendy, by the way, says she can't do those… yet."
Mabel hummed. "And Wendy still has no idea where the book is?" she asked. "The book used to magic her?"
"No. I looked at the library yesterday... I think someone else has it now," Dipper grumbled.
Mabel grumbled. "Stupid face, huh?" She asked Dipper as she laid her hands under her chin, staring down at his note-taking as he began to record a new story.
"Probably. It wouldn't strike me odd for him to grab something like that," he guessed. Glancing behind him, he saw the sister-accomplice of his life bruised and worn. "No shower? You could use it yourself."
"Pacifica is using it," Mabel casually said.
"Oh, right," Dipper nodded. He turned away, only to whip back and stare. "Wait, what!?"
"Yeah," Mabel grinned, "She's visiting! She got here just after you and went to practice with master. Since Yuki is all sniffly, she decided she'd come by and cheer him up."
"Oh. Really?" he asked Mabel, who glared at him. "I mean, it's just a common cold," Dipper shrugged.
"To us. That's his first ever earth-sickness ever!" she told him, "He's worried that his newly adapted body is going to have a hard time not getting all gross and green on us."
The heralding of loud, rapid footsteps made the twins turn. Pacifica landed the step and turned to face the twins. They both gasped and groaned. She was covered in a thick, sticky green and brown substance that looked eerily like snot.
"Normal people keep dry-cleaners in their homes, right?" Pacifica asked hopefully.
"Closest one is in town," Dipper told her.
"Thought so," Pacifica admitted as she dared to inspect the closest splatter on her arm. At it's sight, she gagged. "I didn't think he had that much space in his body for this," she mentioned.
"His lungs do act ten times stronger than ours do," Dipper reminded her, "That kind of sneezing power would easily clear anything up."
"Don't remind me," Pacifica asked, uncertain to what to do with her arms. "Do I wash this now? How do poor people wash clothes?"
"Taking them off and washing them with soap and water!" Mabel entertained. Pacifica stared at her, and then her clothes. "Not now, silly! You need to disrobe-ify yourself in a bathroom!"
As if on cue, Yuki clambered down the stairs. His eyes were sunken and darkly, hair messier than usual, and his chocolate skin shined with sweat. Dipper slightly regretted mocking him for his inability to cope with the disease; he looked terrible, regardless of the severity of the illness.
"Good day, Mabel, Dibber," he said, his nasals taking up a majority of his voice.
"Not for you," Mabel replied.
Yuki grimaced and nodded, and turned to Pacifica. "I think you may take residence in the badroom. I seek wader," he told her.
"Thanks Yuki," Pacifica grinned and passed him, but not before giving his hair a gentle tussle. Yuki grinned and watched her ascend, his face falling.
"I dink I've upsed her wib my cold," he told the twins quietly.
"Sneezing on her would do that," Dipper mentioned.
"Nah, she's not mad at you! She's great at lying, but only if she's ready to hide her feelings," Mabel explained, "Otherwise she's easy to read as a book! Ohh, or a sticker!"
"I do hobe so," Yuki admitted. "I don'd wish to upsed her."
"Speaking of upset," Dipper turned, "How is Grunkle Stan dealing with you as a sick person?"
Yuki's mouth curled into a distressed frown. "Less faborably. I indended to resbond to the job application that Wendy found for me, bud as I am currently incapacidaded, so I will remain in the building."
From elsewhere in the building, a gruff voice scolded Yuki, "Dang straight you are!" Yuki sighed and turned halfway, looking to the elderly human. Grunkle Stan had appeared behind him. He held his hands at his hips, scowling at Yuki. "I'm missing my second most trusted employee now, due to some dumb cold! You're not going out and doubling the time until you get better, and that's that."
"Bud, my incoming can double if-"
Stan shook his head. "Get better, and I'll let you check these things out, or whatever," Stan said, checking the looks from the twins. They stared at him with expectation; their focus on his words and actions. He sighed, and then lifted his hand, revealing a large tin-can. "And eat this. It'll help."
"Whad is id?" Yuki inquired.
"Chicken noodle soup, and not expired either," Stan told him. "Put in a bowl and heat for like a minute. Maybe two, I don't know. When it's warm, eat it. It'll help."
"Oh, I will do so immediadely," Yuki grinned a sad, watery grin and marched passed Stan.
Mabel whistled. "Wow, look at you hot-shot," Mabel said to Stan, who turned back to them, "Buying non-expired food? Did you have to buy that at the corner store?"
"Or did you steal it, like most good food around here," Dipper added.
Stan grumbled, "Hey! If I steal, it's from shmucks who already have enough to throw away anyway! Not like I'm reaching into the wallets of the poor here," he scolded them. A commotion across the building built, and Stan sighed. "I'll be in the shop. Probably on tour. Dipper, take a shower or something, would you?"
"I don't stink!" Dipper called after his great uncle.
"You smell like dying possum," Stan called back.
"Haahahahaa," Mabel grinned at Dipper, who had scowled at the comment. "Possum. My brother is relate-able to dead things. Hehehe. And I don't mean anything about Wendy!"
"Shut up!" Dipper hissed at her as she fell back onto the couch, laughing.
"Not to mention having a crush on a dead person!" Mabel grinned.
"Would you-" Dipper stood, ready to tussle.
"Kids!" Grunkle Stan cried out, "Get out here!"
Bereft of his anger towards his sibling, Dipper grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the living room. A few moments later, they joined Grunkle Stan in the gift shop. There was no party of visitors, but instead Wendy, Soos, and Arline with Stan. The twins halted just as Yuki stumbled in, poking his head through the door.
"What's up, y'all?" Mabel asked.
"Tell 'em," Stan told Arline.
Her looking right to the twins, she said, "Sure. Guys, there's a traveling salesman in town who says he has the ultimate cure-all!"
Dipper's heart felt like it stopped, or at least near leapt out of his chest. "Say that again?" he asked.
"Ultimate cure-all," Arline repeated, "he had a crazy name for it, but I wanted to let everyone know first. I was just passing through town to stop by the post office, and there this guy – small, hairy man – was setting up shop. People were starting to gather too!"
"Sounds pretty coincidental," Dipper pointed out.
"Exactly," Arline said to him.
"Wait, what?" Stan looked between them, "Isn't this about the awesome medicine or whatever he has, and not some conspiracy?"
"Yeah, what gives Dipping dot?" Mabel asked Dipper. Wendy chuckled and Arline grinned as Dipper scowled at her.
Dipper grumpily explained, "It just seems off. I don't remember there ever being lots of traveling salesmen in Gravity Falls before. This would bring a lot of people out into a crowd if everyone falls for the gimmick."
Wendy asked, "And what if it's not a gimmick?"
"Yeah dude," Soos added, "She could be right! Maybe he's some crazy scientist man who likes curing people of their diseases because it gives him a feel like he controls his destiny, but ultimately will do whatever it takes to remain in control over others as the drug has mind-controlling properties." The others stared at Soos. He then chuckled, "Nah, that just sounds like the beginning of 'Galaxy Trek Three'."
"Either way," Arline continued, "This is something we should check out, you know?"
"I'm down," Dipper shrugged. Wendy glanced to him and he shook his head. "I'm not getting much else done here."
"Well, I'm base guardian," Wendy proclaimed, and marched back to her constant seat by the cashier, "Go get 'em guys."
"Yessir!" Mabel saluted.
Grunkle Stan eyed his niece, shaking his head. "Why can't I get that kind of responses?" he asked.
"Because you're smellier and less pretty than Wendy," Mabel cheerfully told him. Pushing past from Mabel, Pacifica marched towards the door, her hair and clothing wet while holding a drenched towel. Mabel called out, "Pacifica?"
She rounded on the group. "What? If this guy really does have a cure-all, I'm grabbing it first. If not, you dorks take care of them," she explained. "Yuki, just eat your soup. I'll be back."
"I can manage dat," Yuki nodded.
With a caravan of two cars divided amongst six people, the trek into the center of Gravity falls was a quick, tense one. The entire time driving, those inside kept their eyes out in the woods, looking for signs of activity that would lead them to think of an incoming attack. To their relief and surprise, nothing came of their venture. It almost scared Dipper as he eventually parked in town: where was Graupner if he wasn't looking to get at him and Mabel? What was that cruel man up to?
It wouldn't be something he would find the answer to immediately. A commotion sounded nearby, and the cluster of six walked together.
"So, if this guy is with Warlock?" Soos asked worriedly.
"We take him down regardless who's watching," Stanley said candidly.
"Wow, just like that?" Pacifica asked, playing with the collars of her stained shirt.
"Just like that," Stan and Arline repeated. The two gave each other a grim smile, and followed the twins, who lead the charge.
"Whoa," Dipper said as he and Mabel turned the corner.
"Wowzers!" Mabel cried out as their face widened with awe.
Next to a large and well decorated trailer on an expensive looking truck, a stage had been set up. Surrounding the stage was easily a hundred people, staring up expectantly. There were fancy lights that would even make Duskhope blush. The lights spun about, drawing the gazes of onlookers.
Stan whistled. "Oh, man! Now this is some old swindler style!" he cried out, rubbing his hands together.
"Stan," Arline gave him side-eyes, "Try not to sound too much like a criminal. In public, at least."
"What? No one cares!" Stan barked.
Nearby, watching the growing crowd, Deputy Durland asked Stan, "What did you say?"
Stan, never batting a lash, repeated, "I said I'm an ex-con."
Durland shrugged. Arline slapped a hand to her eyes, mumbling, "How does this town not descend into anarchy?"
Mabel patted her arm, saying, "I know, right?"
The lights around the stage started to flash. People started to lower their voices, crowding closer to the edge of the platform. Unseen, speakers must have begun to play. Music started to bob. The crowd was instantly hooked, people cheering, and shaking their hands eagerly. Mabel started to bob her head as the others watched, eyes wide.
"Funky," Mabel told them, "It's got jazzy vibes!"
True to Mabel's ear, a Jazzy, show-tunes kind of blare of proud trumpets began to play. A walkway connecting the stage to the trailer had the lights focus on the curtains. The flapped open, and out strolled a man with a white suit with buttons and pins all over it. He looked like a war-general, from the mind of twelve-year-old Mabel.
Strutting down the walkway, the man spun about. He was hairy, had these expressive eyes, and was about a foot and a half shorter than Grunkle Stan. Despite this, he commanded a presence belonging to kings, and had energy that could run entire countries. The music swelled, and he grabbed from, seemingly nowhere, a microphone.
"I walked the world for many years,
seeking answers from right and wrong.
What I found? Might blow your mind,
There was good in us all along!"
"I got a mind, a gift, and time to think,
A little push from many friends I made,
Now it's here; for you! A cure-all, and How?
Now, all you gotta do is start the trade!"
"And I'll say-
"Future bud, best friend, pal,
Lay down your woes to me.
Let me heal your sickness,
pains and wounds,
C'mon, buddy, make a deal with me!"
And so, the singing man began to dance. Among the music there was this 'Wha-ha-haa' chorus, which only riled up the dancing man. He spun about, thoroughly hyped by his own music. The gang watched as the crowd around them (and Mabel) seemed all too eager to dance along with his level eleven energy.
Bursts of pyrotechnics flashed on the stage. Still, that dancing man cared little, and he continued to dance amongst the sparks and flashing lights.
"Life can be all good times,
That's with a friend or three!
All you do; offer me one small deal
C'mon, buddy, make a deal with me!"
As if the singing and dancing wasn't enough, he wielded accents like a fencer; quick and cutting with the silliest of tones like a thin blade.
"That's right, I pride myself to help you
I'm your doc,
your pill, the meds!
Now, where's it hurt?
You'll sure convert!
All I ask is: please don't tell the feds?"
"I can relate to that," Grunkle Stan affirmed.
"Just offer me a trade,
I'm not picky, you'll see!
No need for pens or papers here,
C'mon, buddy, make a deal with me!"
Behind the man, people seemed to walk out from the trailer. They looked sad, some of them looked very ill, wincing as they walked. The dancing man strolled before them, and out from his hands appeared four little pills.
"Can your meds do this?" he sang, and tossed one into the mouth of the nearest person on stage. Their illness faded instantly!
"What!?" Dipper gasped as the song continued, and he turned to Soos, "Soos, did you-" he realized Soos was still entranced. Dipper turned to Stan, who was also bobbing with the song. Dipper groaned, knowing Mabel was the furthest gone. He saw two eyes looking back: Pacifica and Arline. "Okay, so, what the heck was that?" he snapped to them.
Arline eyed him, and said over the din of the music, "Some sort of super medicine?"
Dipper frowned, and stated, "Magic medicine? And he keeps asking for a deal?"
Pacifica pointed back to the stage, "Guys! Listen!"
The dancing man, having given a small pill to each of the figures, made a little spin and clapped his hands, singing out, "Can your meds go-" he clapped his hands, and the four before the crowd were surrounded by a blue dust.
Replacing the prior figures were four flamboyant dancers, who took positions around the stage.
"Well look right here!" the singer laughed, holding out the medicine. Dipper leaned closer, eying the humble looking medicine.
"Can your medicines change your days, save your very life!?
And leave you tasting minty fresh, clear?"
So don't sit back, think twice, or get cold feet,
Just waiting for you; let's go fix your life!
I'm a miracle worker, aint that sweet?
This doc is here now, to end all that strife!
So what are you ills, plagues, and your agonies?
Well trust me, friends: I've got the tool to help!
Life is short and sweet, and I've heard your pleas,
For this, and more? Easier than unraveling kelp!"
"Future bud, best friend, pal,
come on close and trade with me!
I've got the bind, for you? Sure thing!
C'mon, buddy, make a deal- C'mon, buddy, make a deal-
C'mon Buddy!
Make a-
Deal-
With-
Meee!"
The dancers and the singer were showered with sparkling glitter. Streamers and blasts of lights poured around them. They continued to do their extravagant dance, the four behind the singer leaping onto each other, thrown about in the air. Whirling like a tornado, and with a final blast of vocals, the singer roared,
"C'mon, buddy, make a deal with me!"
All at once, the dancers had vanished back into the trailer. The lightshow had ended. The streamers, the glitter, confetti- it was all gone. A few streamers lay on the stage, where the singer remained, bowing to a crowd that furiously applauded.
Pacifica looked around, scowling. "And in all that, he still didn't tell us a thing."
Arline eyed Dipper after that comment. "Oh, she's got a mind between those ears."
"Don't inflate her ego," Dipper pleaded.
Mabel spun to the gang. "C'mon! Let's get closer! Hurry!"
As Mable had intuited, the gathered mob surged closer to the stage, clamoring around the singer. The man, who shone with sweat but wore the warmest of smiles, held aloft in the air, a single little pill.
He declared to the world at large, "Here it is, my friends to be! Does it cure a flu? Oh-ho-ho, You bet it does!" the man roared triumphantly in the air. "But I also know what you're thinking-" he adopted a feminine voice, with a tiny smidgeon of whining, "Oh, but will it keep my boy up, and back in school! HA!" he called, back to the original voice, "Your kids will be so healthy that they'll have no choice but to accept their fate as school-going, responsible children! That's the miracle of Panacea-cillin!"
"Ugh," one kid nearby groaned. The rest of the crowd cheered.
"So, what are you waiting for!? Sign up for an appointment now!" he pointed to the edge of his stage, where a multitude of boards with lined papers awaited, "And Panacea-cillin can be yours today!"
From the crowd, Tyler Cutebiker cheered, "Sign 'em! Sign 'em!" as they all rushed forward.
"Panacea?" Dipper repeated aloud. "Literally a cure-all?"
"Not very creative with the name, is he?" Arline added as they watched him negotiate the crowds who rushed forward, pointing them to the clip boards they could sign up for.
"He said it cures everything?" Pacifica stepped forward, moving through the crowds. "Then I'm signing up."
"Wait," Dipper reached for her, but she stepped under his reach.
"If you want to wait behind while I get us a face-to-face with this guy, be my guest," she told them, "But I'm going to see if this is legit or not."
Grunkle Stan seemed to agree. His eyes twinkled. "Heh. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on something like that," Grunkle Stan admitted, "Just imagine the fortune I could make if it worked, and I could replicate it!"
"Let's keep our eye on the prize, and not money," Arline told him with a critical look.
"Money is always a prize," Grunkle Stan rolled his eyes.
The singer ahead of them called out, "Remember folks, sign up, get in line, and then wait for your appointment! Panacea-cillin: Guaranteed to cure all ailments, diseases, illnesses, and otherwise problems your body might have," The salesman said, waving to the crowd as he stepped away towards the trailer, "Or my name isn't William Cardinal!"
Dipper frowned as the man stepped off the stage. There was always some doubt in Dipper's mind these days. That said, this person didn't seem like the type to be employed by angry and brooding Warlocks. Small, hairy, and with enough energy to match Mabel, he didn't necessarily Dipper as the type to involve himself with such dark souls. Still, looks were always deceiving, and the timing was suspicious. There was no such thing as a cure-all: it wasn't feasible for any one thing to cure all ailments on the body. He wondered if there was some kind of side-effect they would find out about this miracle. Or, maybe it was, as Dipper mused, magical.
"C'mon dork," Mabel pulled Dipper as they stepped forward. Pacifica, despite her position, which she continued to try using as a means for getting to the clip-boards, remained at the back. Everyone in the crowd was too excited to sign up to hear the commanding words of one small blond teen.
"Oh cool, we can wait in line now," Soos said as the six of them finally found themselves alone by the three clipboards. "Now we can exchange ideas about what we really think the guy is up to!"
"It's a sham," Grunkle Stan and Dipper said together.
"That was quick," Arline said. "You guys really don't think it's possible for someone to have a cure-all?"
"Of course not!" Grunkle Stan laughed.
"It's not impossible," Mabel shrugged.
"While nothing is technically impossible," Dipper rolled his eyes, "I don't know if something as simple as the ultimate cure-all would be discovered by some lone traveling salesman."
Mabel corrected him, "Lone singer-salesman."
Pacifica, from their front, spun to the twins. "You guys spend your summer up here in Gravity Falls twice, and you're still trying to debate what is possible or not?" Pacifica asked them, her eyebrows raised. Dipper zipped his mouth and glared at Pacifica while Mabel grinned.
"Girls get it," Mabel said with a smile.
The line leading to the trailer was a long, impressive one. For nearly an hour the six stayed at the back, watching people take a step closer every ten minutes. They usually were running away from the trailer, excitement in their eyes, but seemed to be carrying nothing. Dipper wondered if this wasn't a pill after all. Maybe something was injected into them in the trailer, and the pill was just a ruse? Yet, when Taylor left by them, eagerly rubbing his hands together, he had no band-aid on his exposed arms. Dipper wondered if there were multiple things people could gain, and the pill was just one of many.
Eventually there was a commotion. The gang had spent an hour and a half, and eventually craned their heads. A loud voice scolded someone, and a tall man stumbled out of the shack.
"Hey, is that Zander?" Mabel asked a she jumped off of someone's shoulders.
"Yeah," Arline said, squinting at the passing millionaire. Dipper spotted the man approaching as well, and noticed a feature not often seen about the metalhead. Zander wore an upset scowl on his face for the first time since staying at Gravity Falls. Then Zander spotted the gang.
"Guys," he said with a flip of his frown, his smile back to its normal position, "How goes it?"
"We're all going to get the magical cure-alls or debunk it!" Mabel quickly informed Zander. He chuckled and nodded, pocketing his hands.
"What was going on over there?" Arline asked quickly.
He chuckled with as much gusto and enthusiasm as a child going for a vaccination might. "A misunderstanding, to my knowledge," he told them, "I guess being rich and famous can have negative effects when you're curious about these sorts of things."
Arline analyzed him, her eyes narrowing. "I see," Arline said.
"Well," Zander grinned to the others, "I'll be at my place. Not sure what you've all been up to, but let me know if anything crazy is going on."
"Sure, you know we will!" Mabel grinned toothily at the celebrity. "Bye Zander!" Mabel cried as she waved after him.
"Gosh, keep it down, would you?" Pacifica rolled her eyes, "I don't know if that just doesn't affect him anymore, or if he's really that oblivious."
"Oooh, or maybe he's smitten by my feminine charm?" Mabel asked to Pacifica, who shook her head. "Of course, he is," Mabel told herself.
The last person stepped in as Lazy Suzan stepped out, happily telling herself she could soon see in three dimensions again. Given another ten minutes, the last group left the trailer, and the six of them assumed it was their turn. With a look amongst themselves, they all climbed inside. Pushing past the curtains by the door, the deep warm voice said, "Welcome! Come inside! I promise only half the things in here will leave you mortally wounded! Haha. A joke."
Dipper saw him quickly enough. The room was littered with... well, Dipper took a second look. It all looked like a hodge-podge of junk. Books, pictures, purses, toys, magazines, dolls, an empty gun here or there, a few bottles; many these strange objects were lined and organized around the room with names underneath them. There wasn't a clear theme of what could be found within. The man stood before them, and did a dramatic double-take.
"Wow! Six! A sextuple, huh?" the man asked them.
Soos held out a hand. "Whoa there, dude! Nothing crazy in here please – I am a taken man," Soos told him.
The salesman roared with laughter. "Hah! Powers of the naked mole rat; hysterical and adorable! What's your name, my boy?"
"I'm Soos."
"Well, Soos the funny," the man beamed at him, "What kind of ailment, disease, or rare illness can I help you out of?" he asked as he sat in a very old looking carved wooden chair.
"Well, I'm not sick or anything now," Soos started, "But I'm working two jobs now. I could use a bit of insurance, you know?"
"I do!" the salesman nodded and grinned. He leaned in his chair, rubbing his thick beard. "Well, I think we can make this work."
"Awesome!" Soos exclaimed, and lifted out his wallet, "So, how much do I owe you? A hundred? My soul? Body and will?"
The Salesman laughed and shook his head. "Soos, do you have something you really care for? Like a present, a token, or something someone gave you?"
"Oh, you bet I do," Soos nodded, "There's this picture I got in the woods once- I've kept it in my room ever since."
William Cardinal shrugged. "Bring it in, and we can talk."
"Hot tamales! I'll be right back!" Soos told his friends, and leapt out past the curtains. The resounding crash outside told them that Soos had forgotten about the stairs, and plummeted to the ground. "I'm okay!" he called back.
"Hm, so, who's next?" William asked.
"Okay, okay, let's cut the bull for a second here," Stan stepped up, putting his hand on the table separating them, better to lean in to the smaller man. "What's the trick, Cardinal?"
William Cardinal's eyes twinkled. He wove a hand through the air, his fingers wiggling, as he told them, "Magic."
"Hah!" Stan pointed at him, "So, you are working with him! He's with the Warlock!" he backed up as Arline stepped forward, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Whoa, whoa, what's this about? Warlocks?" William asked, nervously looking to Arline and the rest of the crew. He said in a timid, throaty, high-pitched whine, "No, I'm not a red! I'd never turn my back to our flag!" When the two before him raised an eyebrow, he clarified, in his normal voice, "You, uh, are just playing some prank, right?" The five approached him, glaring down. "What's going on here?" he demanded.
Dipper glared at him, and demanded, "The warlock's plan – what is it he's planning?! Why is he using supernatural creatures to get his dirty work done? Why did he need a dragon?"
William Cardinals face went white. He stared at the five of them, his mouth open. "You mean... you're serious! You actually believe in magic?"
Dipper looked to Mabel. That didn't sound like the voice coming from a man with conviction to violence. The twins looked to Stan and Arline, who seemed to be sharing similar thoughts.
Pacifica was first to pipe up. "Duh, this town is crawling with weird stuff. So, you kind of telling us magic is the reason it works? Whatever," she shrugged. "Look, so how much money do I need to fork over to you to get one of these things."
"Oh no," William chuckled, "I don't trade with money."
"What?!" Stan and Pacifica gasped, and asked, "Why not?"
"What use is money to someone who can get anything he wants?" William asked with a wink. They stared at him. Dipper thought back to the performance. He looked inside the single room, and realized suddenly that the performers were nowhere to be seen. There wasn't a speck of electronic device inside. All of that show and pizzazz outside had just vanished.
Dipper slowly pondered, and stated to William Cardinal, "You're not human, are you?"
After a pause, the bearded fellow smiled and shook his head.
"What are you?" Mabel asked. William smiled his widest, and sitting cross-legged in his seat, he began to float upwards. Shimmering light of blue and gold began to radiate off him. Mabel gasped, "Whoa!"
"Once, a slave," he told them, and from the air itself, he summoned a pair of golden bracers. As they got a glance to it, he whisked them away from reality, "Then I was freed. Now, I'm a wish-giver who does a lot of traveling. Does great for my air miles."
"A genie!?" Dipper gasped.
William tilted his head side to side, and corrected Dipper with, "I prefer djinn, Mister Ductective, but whatever gets you quackin'."
Arline, lowering her readiness for a brawl, asked, "Djinn? Can you can grant wishes?"
Without any cue, there was soft 'bling' sound from behind Cardinal. Adopting the modicum of an astute, but kindly voice, William Cardinal awarded her, "Correct! Five hundred for the lady of punches. Now, for double the points," he wiggled his eyebrows, and asked, "This is what most white-collar americans dream for; preparing and saving up for half their lives."
Mabel leapt into the air, waving her hand. Cardinal pointed to her. Mabel shouted, "Horses!"
"No," Cardinal told her.
Pacifica looked stunned. "People save for horses?"
Dipper lifted his hand, and was pointed to. "Uh, what is retirement?"
"Correct! A thousand points for the whizkid supreme!" Cardinal cried out, and flopped back down into his chair, looking comfortable. As Dipper smiled his widest at the compliment, William Cardinal explained, back to his tone, "I'm now less of a wish-giver these days. It's much more satisfying seeing people happy when they can finally be cured of whatever disease hurts them," he told them with a grin.
"Wait, but why won't you trade in money?" Dipper asked, "What do you trade with?"
"Your possessions. Specifically, prized possessions," he told them with a glint in his eyes.
Stan frowned. "Wait, but what if money is my prized possession?" Stan asked. All five turned and stared at him. Their disappointment was measurable. Stan barked, "What? I love money?" At his insistence, William Cardinal rolled his eyes, and fluttered his hand. Grunkle Stan was lifted into the air by a swarm of blue, detached hands. Stan cried, "H-Hey! Put me down!" slowly, he was floated out of the shop.
"Well, now that we're in the company of those who actually want to trade," William shook his head, and he finally focused on Pacifica, "You wanted one as well?"
Pacifica, having watched Stanley removed forcefully, looked back and gulped. This was a being that could be hard to bully, if she wanted to. So, after clearing her throat, Pacifica told him, "Yeah. My boyfriend is going through a rough patch, so I, uh, need him better. For reasons," she added, her cheeks reddening.
William Cardinal stood up like she had stated some sort of secret code. His eyes widened and sparkled like the starlight over a vastness of unbidden night. "Oh? Boyfriend? Would you say that love is what brought you here?" William asked. He floated out of his seat, levitating next to her. Arline stepped back as the man studied the rich girl. After a moment, his eyes twinkled and he grinned. He lowered a hand to her shoulder, saying, "Oh boy, not just any: a deep love."
Pacifica's voice lowered as her face darkened to a rose color as she quietly wished, "I, uh, just can we do the deal?"
To Pacifica's luck, her stubbornness did not turn away the man before her. There was a twinkle in the eyes of William Cardinal as he looked into her eyes. With a deep sigh and a gentle smile, the man next to her snapped his fingers. Floating before her, a small blue and gold-pearly pill floated. He told her, "Take it. On the house, kid," William told her.
Pacifica stammered, "Wait... but you said-"
"Hey, I'm a sucker for love," he told her as he walked around the table and sat back down. With only a second hesitation, Pacifica reached out and tentatively took the pill. In the man's hands, a noisemaker appeared, and he rattled it around. "Congratulations, you've made my first completed transaction. Hope he feels better," he told her with a wink. Pacifica looked around, spotting Dipper's awe for the Pill, Arline's satisfaction, and Mabel, who's eyes shimmered with happy tears.
"You love Yuki?" Mabel asked with a trembling voice. "Ohhh myyy goood-"
Done with the attention, Pacifica scowled. "Ugh. I'll be back at your shack," Pacifica quickly turned and marched out.
Dipper turned after watching Pacifica leave to address the djinn. "You really are giving out cure-alls? No money or anything?" he asked.
"Well, what else is a wish-giver going to do without purpose?" William asked. "I can wish food and drink whenever I'd like to, so money has little use for me. What do I do with that kind of life? I've tried making it worth something for many. You see," he adjusted in his seat, and waved his hand around, "Every single item in this room here, every one, is a trade I've done. Things people like, cherish, and would be willing to give up to make someone healthy, or be healthy themselves. Whenever I spot someone's name up there," he pointed to a shelf full of abridged letters, "I can remember their name perfectly, along with their face, and how happy they were when they realized they would really be cured. That kind of thing is worth more than money to me."
"Aww, that's adorable," Mabel cooed. "What about Pacifica? She didn't trade you anything."
"Yet," William wiggled a finger in the air, "People tend to come back with a thank you of some sort when I do that. I have a dozen binders or so stuffed with thank you cards, just to fall asleep to."
"Then why don't you give out these for free?" Arline asked.
William looked a little hurt at her question. "If I did that, I think I'd be drawing more attention to myself. I wasn't kidding about the feds," he adopted this twangy, southwestern tone, "Keep the marshal outta this, pardner," he drawled, getting a laugh outta Mabel. As he resumed his normal voice, he added, "Besides, it's not like I'm really denying anyone- from the richest to the poorest, we all have things we cherish to trade."
"Can I feel your beard?" Mabel asked. William gave her a quick look, and then lowered herself to her mercy. Mabel walked over, and began to stroke the thick hair. "Wow, so mystical and masculine..."
"But you said it can cure anything?" Dipper asked again.
"Yup," the djinn smiled at Dipper as Mabel played with his beard. "All I ask is something you cherish in return."
"I... okay," Dipper thought, running his fingers together. What did he have that was something worth a cure all for Wendy? It had to be something that he could afford to give away, something that could be left behind. Dipper's fingers ran inside his jacket and played with the spine of the journal as he thought. "Anything?" he asked the man.
"I like small little things, but sure, anything. What do you have in your jacket?" he asked. Dipper felt the weight of it more than ever before. With a steadying hand, Dipper withdrew Fords third journal. "Whoa," the djinn spotted the strange book, "What is that?"
"It's a journal from one of my grand uncles. He catalogued a lot of strange, mysterious things in the town, and I've used it for I don't know how many things," Dipper explained while reading into a few pages, his eyes scanning over memorable sections he'd seen many times. "All of its authentic so far."
"It sounds amazing," William awed, his eyes drinking over the pages.
Mabel happily agreed, "Dipper is in love with it. Practically a bible."
William turned his gaze from Mabel to her twin. "You know, that sounds like something I'd be willing to trade for a Panacea-cillin."
"R-Really?" Dipper asked, closing the journal instantly. "For... ford's journal?" he repeated, looking down to the reflective, golden, six-fingered imprint.
Cardinal, watching Dipper eye the object, softly repeated, "Absolutely."
"I, well," Dipper frowned. He saw, in the golden hand, his own image frowning back up at him. There was more than a simple conflict brewing in his head. This wasn't just any meager trade, as Cardinal had stated, but something he had to cherish. What lay in his hands was more than that.
The journal. Number three. The one that above all else had gotten Dipper out of trouble more times than he could keep track. It saved his life, protected him and his family from harm, unraveled mysteries, and was one of three remaining artifacts from Stanford Pines that were safe. Dipper needed that cure though. Wendy needed to be cured finally, and Dipper knew that. Even still, the idea of never seeing that journal again...
Stirring Dipper from his momentary daze, Mabel asked, "Dip? What are you – are you gonna give it?"
There were words unsaid that floated just beyond his vocal cords, teasing him to be allowed. His brain allowed nothing to be said. He just looked to her, eyes wide, clenching the book with firm hands. Someone carefully watching Dipper certainly noticed.
"You know," William piped up, and Dipper realized he had been quiet for more than a few moments, "Give it some thought," Cardinal told him softly, "Sometimes these things need thought. I'm here until tomorrow morning. Clearly you really, really like that journal."
"Well, yeah," Dipper shrugged.
"Come back later if you change your mind to keep it," William told Dipper with a kind smile. He turned to look at Mabel and Arline. "Either of you want one?"
"No, my good man!" Mabel told him pleasantly, but turned to her brother with a glare, "But you'll have to excuse me while I take my brother out for a talk."
"Sure. Come back if you change your mind, or consider something else to trade," he reminded them.
Mabel strode around the table, grabbed Dipper by the arm, and pulled him out from the trailer. Arline looked back once to the djinn, studying him, and then followed. As the twins exited outside, Grunkle Stan was dusting himself off. He watched them stumble out, leaning on the trailer with a sour face.
Stan groaned. "About time. I was getting bored out here," he complained. Mabel's grip on Dipper tightened, and Dipper winced. Stan, noticing Mabel's rigidity, asked, "Uh, did I miss something?"
Dipper, tired of the tight grip, pulled himself free as he cried, "Ow! Let go Mabel!"
Mabel snapped, "Are you kidding me, bro?", her tone devoid of her usual bounce. "You had a chance to get Wendy one of those super cure-all thingies, and you didn't want to because you like the journal too much!?"
A stinging heat rose into Dipper's cheeks and neck. "I didn't – that's not why!" Dipper rounded down on her.
"Then why?" Arline asked, stepping next to Mabel. "Dipper, she's got a point. You've been dying for the past week because of this. If that's the cure all, including Wendy's curse, why not take it?"
The answer belonged more to Arline than Mabel, as Dipper was sure Mabel should already understand his point of view. "The journal has been really, really helpful!" Dipper told them as Stan took to his side. "It's Ford's journal! His last journal. Aside from knowing just about every little thing there was out in this area and how to counter it, it's been the closest thing we've had to a real guide to the paranormal! It could have the answer to what to do with Wendy!"
"Could, yeah," Mabel rolled her eyes, "How's that been going so far? Huh?"
To Mabel's surprise, Stan crossed his arms and gave her a critical look. "Hold on Mabel," Stan piped up, "As much as I like to agree with you, those... books are the last thing my brother had. Next to that portal, which I'm not a fan of looking at," Grunkle Stan shivered, "They're the only thing left we've got of him."
The mention of the lost brother paused the twins. Their heated debate was instantly snuffed out, as the two of them realized that this decision was not just Dipper's to make. It was the three of them. Each of them had a hand on the final say of giving away a piece of Stanford Pines final collection. Arline stood next to them, arms crossed and watching them.
"Why don't we all head back, and then see if this really is a cure?" Arline suggested. "I don't think we have much to doubt with him, but you never knew."
Dipper nodded. He gave his sister a look, and he saw that she had a small flush in her cheeks, darker than she usual had. They would not talk about it, or discuss the journal, until much later. At least then, they would go back to the Mystery Manor.
"I'm feeling much better!" Yuki shouted as he came rushing down the stairs to join Pacifica.
The twins, Arline, and Stan had just arrived back to the Mystery Manor. They were met with the cheerful news that not only had the cure been extremely effective, but it was instant. The residue from Yuki had vanished from him into thin air. Now he was more energetic than he had acted in his entire stay since his self-exile began. Only Waddles seemed unimpressed with the instant recovery of Yuki; the pig demanded the same amount of attention and love from his alien friend regardless of health.
"Yay!" Mabel cheered and ran to the three, past Wendy, who grinned happily for Yuki. Mabel eagerly told him, "Now you can stay happy and bouncy forever." At this, Waddles squealed loudly, sitting next to the counter top. "He's happy for you too," Mabel told Yuki.
Yuki nervously chuckled at Mabel. Pacifica patted his shoulder. "You don't need to," Pacifica told Yuki, who seemed worried that would become his expectant behavior. "Just keep being you."
"That I will," he said with a smile to Pacifica. "I just feel... wonderful! Better than I've ever felt since coming to earth!"
Stan, fighting a losing battle not to grin, spoke to Dipper, "Well, guess that cure worked. Think there are any after-effects?"
"I don't know. This looks like real, true magic," Dipper explained, "Instant cure, instant relief."
"Either way," Yuki said, and turned to Pacifica. He kissed her on the cheek, and the girls face lit up like a strawberry. Yuki proudly called alout, "I'll be off! I have an interview I'll be scheduling now!" he told the others before skipping past them and out the door. The pig oinked at him as he charged past.
Stan tried catching his ear. "Wait! You could wait and see if there's any side... ah, forget it," Stan sighed.
"It's nice seeing him so happy now," Mabel told Pacifica, who sighed deeply, her face distant and dreamy.
Her eyes were the shapes of hearts. "Yeah... er," Pacifica spotted Dipper grinning at her while Mabel squealed. Pacifica cleared her throat, adding "Well, now that he's better, I have to go re-buy these clothes. I'll see you all later," she said, and marched passed them, her nose in the air.
"Bye Pacifica," the twins waved her off.
Letting the rich girl pass by, Wendy smiled around the room. "Man, that stuff actually works," Wendy smiled, "What do you have to give up for one of those? An arm and a leg?"
Mabel cleared her throat. "Well, Dipper," Mabel said loudly, and poked his arm, "You saw it work. What's the word?"
Dipper turned and stared into the expectant eyes of his sister. He knew what he wanted to say, and more what she wanted to hear him say. Then he turned to Wendy. She was watching with a crooked eyebrow, uncertain to their conversation. Dipper always wondered what kind of staring contest would be required for Wendy to look away from him. He certainly knew that it was easy to look at her these days. Right now, however, that ease was strained. His sister was making his choice a rushed one.
"I, uh," Dipper quickly turned to Mabel, "I'm going to check over my notes one more time. You know, just to make sure."
"Dipper," Mabel hissed at him, her voice lowered, "We just saw it work on Yuki! How can you just ignore that!?"
"I'm not ignoring anything," he told her with a huff, "I'm just, you know, making sure we have everything in order."
"Dipper-"
"Look, I said I'd think about it, okay?" Dipper told her angrily.
"Fine," Mabel turned away, "You have a day to think about it, remember. Try not to be too selfish about it."
Dipper, feeling a heat surging into his brain, glared at her. With a small whisper, he asked her clarify in a single whisper, "Selfish?"
Twin or not, Mabel knew that she had, perhaps, pushed a little too far. She wrapped a hand around her arm, and looked away. Quietly, Mabel said, "That was – I'm sorry, Dipper."
That wasn't quite enough. Almost as quiet, he growled, "Whatever, Mabel," and stormed past the others.
Him? Selfish? He was trying to save something that could otherwise also save Wendy, and then more down the road. Not only that, the journal was coupled with memories of a lost family member. If that was being selfish to Mabel, Dipper needed to throw a dictionary into her face. Although, he could probably do that anyway.
Then again, he saw that smile from Wendy. The trust she had for him to choose correctly was astonishing and seemingly limitless. There had been many instances to prove such a trust, sure, but Dipper knew there had been tests to such friendship recently. Now, he reevaluated his own trust in himself. To think; he was hiding a book from the man who would gladly trade that for the answer to Wendy's sickness? It made Dipper's head spin and his stomach feel sick. He hated the idea that Wendy could trust him when he had the option to save her like that. Was he selfish after all?
Stomping into the living room, he sat next to the same couch chair and stared at the many papers he had laid out.
'Wraiths are abominations made from shadow and madness, impervious to almost all harm.'
'From a failed attempt at immorality, the wraith is a ghost who seeks the life-force of victims around it.'
'The most unpredictable of spirits, the wraith will haunt anywhere it pleases, sometimes roaming entire forests or countries as it looks for victims to slay.'
Dipper growled as he reached over and crumpled the notes into a ball. None of them helped; it was all just myth and lore. The closest thing he had that they all agreed on is that some dark magic is required to make a wraith, that they seem to be un-tethered to location or grave, and that they are considered undead. After that, wraiths could be seemingly anything.
What he wouldn't give to just see that one book that Robbie had used three years ago. Dipper wondered, as his eyes once again became heavy while scanning more pages of text, if Zander could call Robbie to ask him if he still had the book. It would explain why Dipper hadn't found it yet.
Yawning, Dipper flipped a page, and found a detailed rune, supposedly used to ward off dangerous undead. Dipper had seen the correct version of the rune, and was surprised by how close they almost got. Yet, in the end, it was still incorrect.
Before Dipper knew it, he closed his eyes and fell back against the couch chair.
Yet he never hit the couch. He spilled backwards and yelled.
Instinct and adrenaline kicked in as Dipper felt himself fall through emptiness. He screamed, looking around. Stars wheeled around him as he spiraled downwards, falling deep into nothingness.
No more warning than his own instinct, Dipper found an approaching platform below him. Grey and glowing, the closer he got to it, the slower he fell. As he hovered above the platform, suspended by some unknown force, he stepped down onto the two-dimensional object. The circle was as hard as concrete, but smooth like metal.
Then, as a voice called from someone both very far, and very close, Dipper realized he was not alone. "Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice called from behind him, "I was wondering how long it would be before I caught you day-dreaming into a nightmare."
"No," Dipper slowly turned, his eyes wide.
Floating up from underneath the platform, the black outline of a top hat began to rise, followed by a yellow triangle with small noodle-like arms and legs. Spinning a cane in one hand, the one-eyed yellow triangle demon spoke to Dipper without a mouth.
"How's it goin', Pine tree?" Bill Cipher asked as he zoomed in closer, "Aww man, you look exhausted? Great! Want to play a game of 'how much sleep deprivation can a human being sustain before death'? I love that game!"
Dipper shook his head. "This is impossible," Dipper told him.
Cipher cackled. "And that's the problem?"
Dipper pointed at the insane triangle. "We locked you up in the portal! In the space between dimensions! Stan made sure you couldn't get out!" Dipper shouted at Bill.
The single eye rolled around. "Hah! Oh, right, good 'ol Stanford. You know, it's times like these that make me happy I know your entire family here. I can send you your great-uncles regards!" Bill explained. "By the way, he says AAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!" Bill screamed at the top of his lungs, so loud Dipper dared not to remove his hands until the echoes of the scream faded away into the space surrounding them. "Also, hugs and kisses," Bill added.
When evidence presented itself more and more, Dipper chose to listen to it. "You're lying," Dipper told him, "This is just a bad, really, really bad dream."
"Sure, it is! But what makes you think I'm not actually in it?" Bill asked, zooming around him in a quick circle.
"Because you can't leave!" Dipper shouted, growing tired at Bills unhelpful chatter. He breathed heavily, feeling the many frustrations of his failed studies influencing his mood. Dipper paused, and then looked to Cipher, remembering something about his imprisonment. "At least, not without someone letting you out," Dipper thought for a moment, his eyes widening. Had someone, somehow, let the Dream-Demon escape?
"Hah, I wish," Cipher shrugged his arms up, "Being stuck in a realm without a concept of time but space and energy is really different to what I'm used to, but boring in the long run! The things I torture there don't remember it because there's not concept of time! Never got tortured, and always have been tortured. I can't win either way! It's been letting me learn new and inventive ways of flaying the mortal mind."
The horrific cosmic being, terrible as it seemed, felt honest. "Then how are you here?" Dipper dared to ask.
"Well, just because you locked me up doesn't mean I can't peak my way through the cracks," Cipher said, almost like a warning, "And whisper to you mortal, three dimensional, linear grown sacks of meat. Heck, I've already done it twice before," Cipher added with happy swirl of his cane.
"You can just sneak out? Great. What do you want!?" Dipper shouted at him.
"Ohh, angry twinny Pine-tree! Love it! Much better than the stupid, confident, well-spoken version of yourself," Cipher told him.
"I'm on a timeline, that's all," Dipper told him.
"Hahaha, timelines. That's funny. Corporeal, linear things make me laugh. Ah, right, speaking of which," Bill zoomed slightly closer, "Let's talk about that."
"What?"
"About Red! Boy," Cipher waved his arm, and a picture of Wendy materialized before him. "She doesn't look so good."
Dipper saw her face. Something was off. It took him a moment to realize the details, but then he gasped. The patches under her eyes were considerably darker. Her skin in his illusion made her current pale skin look tanned. Her great green eyes seemed to be fading into a timid mint. There was, in those eyes, something dangerous, unbalanced.
"That's not what she looks like!" Dipper told him.
Cipher was all-too amused with Dipper's observation. "Sure; not now in your ephemeral present! But, in just three years she turns into that. Want to see four? Oh! No, let's do five," Bill snapped his fingers, and the image changed.
This time, no static image of Wendy stood before Dipper. It was a living, breathing Wendy. Her hair was graying. Her eyes almost entirely this flashy silver-white. Her skin was nearly shock white. The coloration was not the awful thing, at least to Dipper. It was how she seemed to be acting. She was hunched over, turning herself side-to-side, as if scanning the air.
"Wendy!" Dipper said, beside himself. The image heard Dipper, and shrieked. This horrible, twisted Wendy lunged at him, shattered, twisted nails ready to claw at his face. As Dipper yelled and fell back, the image vaporized.
Bill roared with laughter. "Oh, man, I should show you ten years! Now that's a look!"
"No... no," Dipper trembled, shaking his head, "That's not – you're just–"
"The truth is a lot more convincing than a lie," Cipher told him.
"You've done that kind of thing before!" Dipper shouted at him, scrambling to his feet. "You've shown me something that isn't really there!"
"Sure! That's why I'm a dream demon, you silly, silly boy," Cipher said. "But really, you want to call me a liar? How about yourself?"
"W-what?" Dipper gasped.
"Well, for someone who promises Red that you'd find that cure right away, you're sure quick to ignore one that is just handed to you instantly. Even your sister called you out on it," Bill said, and Dipper turned away, holding his arm in a stab of guilt. Cipher went on, "You know, pride runs strong in the family. You want to be the one to cure her yourself; be the hero, save the day. Genetic! Just like your Great Uncle – to be the one getting all the credit."
Fury flared up in Dipper's heart. "Shut up!" Dipper turned and lunged at Bill, who let Dipper slide completely through him and hit the ground.
"Now this is the kind of conversation I love. The one filled with anger and violence. Makes me miss the dark ages of Europe. Crusades, crucifixions, witch-hunts: good times," Bill sighed longingly. "Still, I've got a point, kid."
Despite himself, Dipper thought out aloud. "The pill the djinn gives out could have side effects."
"Sure, it could!" Bill agreed.
"And that journal is really important to everyone," Dipper continued.
"Yup! As something of a co-author for half that series, I'm personally attatched!" Cipher said excitedly. Dipper frowned and grunted. He hated to admit it, but the demon wasn't wrong. He'd never admit to him being right, but he... wasn't wrong. Cipher stared at Dipper as the teen began to consider and weigh his options once more. He demon hummed, "Hmm. Sounds like you're stuck there, kiddo. Well, unless..."
Dipper turned and looked into Cipher's eye. "No."
Cipher zoomed in closer to Dipper. "Aww, not even going to hear me out?"
"Absolutely not," Dipper repeated.
"C'mon pine-tree," Cipher asked.
"I'd rather trade all the journals than make any deal with you," Dipper said.
Cipher laughed. "Your stupidity is always refreshing! I know that Djinn," Bill said, circling Dipper slowly, "He doesn't have a fraction of the power I have. His wishes have limitations, and conditions. My power? Infinite."
Dipper glared. "No. I'm done with talking to you. Go back to your dimensional prison, you monster," Dipper snapped at Bill, and began to sit down.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Bill asked, zooming into Dipper.
"Getting ready to wake up," Dipper said, closing his eyes and focusing his internal mind on doing just that.
"C'mon, you can't be serious!" Bill outcried. Dipper remained quiet. Bill, sounding a little rushed, started blabbering, "I came all the way here, for you, from the prison you locked me up in, and all you want to do is wake up and spoil the endless, semi-existential fun I have planned? What gives, Pine-tree? I thought what we had was special!"
Dipper focused harder, and felt less and less of the dream. He was going to get out. That training Mabel, and then Arline, had him practice, was paying off. As Dipper felt himself ready to awaken, four words changed his mind in a flash.
"I can cure Red."
Dipper's eyes snapped open. "What?" he demanded of the triangle.
"Oh, so, you'll listen to my proposal?" Cipher asked, turning half way away from the human teen, revealing part of his two-dimensional existence.
"I... didn't say that," Dipper said.
"Hmm, then listen to me fully," Cipher said, coming closer. "Pine Tree, I know what Red's stuck with. Being a wraith isn't fun for anyone, except little Bhord. He's got that under control, the sweet alps monster. Nah, Red? She's got only a few years of sanity left in her at the rate she's going. So... here's my proposal."
Dipper swallowed. Despite his internal mind screaming for him to wake up and turn away from the deal demon, the monster of dreams, and the corrupter of knowledge, he listened to Bill.
"I cure little miss Red. She returns to being a human with a snap of my fingers. All you have to do is one, teeny, tiny, little thing for me. Well, you and all your friends, that is."
Dipper couldn't believe he was about to entertain the idea, but he frowned and asked, "And what is that?"
Bill chuckled, "Oh, you know, the usual." He zoomed into Dipper, less than an inch away, and the teen fell backwards with the rush of color. Cipher told him, serious as a knife to the throat, "You and your friends leave gravity falls forever and never return."
Dipper breathed rapidly as he held himself below the demon, staring up at him. A black hand poked itself towards him, and Cipher squinted at Dipper.
"So, Pine tree: do we have a deal?"
Wowzers! Early update is early! But what's this? A chapter without a significant amount of action? :O
Aside from that, BILL's BACK BABY! Just like he said at the end of Stronghold and Serpents, oh, like 20 chapters ago or something. Or more... what chapter was it? More chapters ago!? Dang... I forget sometimes this story's been out for a year.
And we meet another friendly paranormal creature! William Cardinal, the Djinn! And yes, if you're wondering, 'boy, that sounds a lot like _,' it's because you're right. He's based off of one of my personal heroes, icons, and deities.
Can you guys believe that we're almost seventy five percent done with season two? Episode fifteen is in two weeks, and then there are only five after that. So... eleven more weeks of season two. Things will be heating up soon, in case the appearance of Bill Cipher didn't give any hints.
Also, can you believe that I almost made this a chapter about Yuki dying of a cold? Yeah! I was going to go all "War of the Worlds" on you guys with a cold killing our poor little Uki-Dohth Alien boy. It wouldn't end up killing him, of course, but that would have been a plot-line. But we've already got Wendy ill, so we don't need any more references to sci-fi alien stuff. Got that all out of my system in season one.
(A huge flying saucer crashes onto EZB.)