entrancelogs | 'cause you thought you'd escaped

Who: Alex Kralie and anyone/everyone
Where: All around Gravity Falls
When: February 5th-9th (specify which day in the subject header)
Rating: Let's say PG-13. Alex is a foulmouth
Summary: Fairies and gremloblins and tourist traps, oh my!
The Story: beneath the cut!

February 5th and 6th; Mystery Mansion

God, he is so bored.

Alex thinks he might be starting to have an allergic reaction to how much obnoxiously fake stuff there is scattered all around this place. And people actually buy this crap? He turns over the price tag on one of the dubiously-named "attractions" and snorts. What a scam.

But man, he can't remember when he last had two hundred bucks in cold hard cash to just spend however he sees fit. Ordinarily that'd go to a savings account, or to chip away at those student loans, or would be added to his private stockpile devoted to the Production-Level Movie Equipment Investment Fund, but he sincerely doubts the money will linger past the event's end. So, with a sigh, Alex submits to the thrall of capitalist purchase. He might put forth some money for a tour just to see what all the fuss is about. He might even buy something other than a disposable camera, just to shake things up. He's gotta use up this cash somehow, right?

February 7th; Fairies

Of course, what should he walk into within five minutes of venturing into the woods but a swarm, a literal swarm, of winged little pests? He swats at them furiously, stumbling blind through the semi-thick woodland, practically snarling under his breath as those bright fluttering pains in the ass dodge every clumsy swipe of his hand. This place had better not have poison oak, or Alex will have words. He'll have angry words, furious words, as soon as he gets - these - things - off - his -

Crash.

That's roughly the point in time where Alex trips over a root and faceplants, possibly onto a rock or sharp object of some kind. You might trip over him as he lies there, surrounded by a dancing halo of colorful chirping lights, wondering where in his life he went so wrong.

February 8th; Gremloblins

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, HOLY SHIT - "

Running at breakneck speed through the woods. Yep, this sounds familiar. Only instead of some ghostly-thin spectre-like faceless nightmare, this thing is a hulking, lumbering, snarling...well, he doesn't really have a word for it. He just knows it apparently doesn't like cameras or bright flashes, and it's currently fixated on him and mad. Oh, joy. Too far, Alex. You went too far, and now you're going to suffer for it.

He barely manages to duck a swipe of the thing's massive claws just as its jaws part in a furious roar.

"For the love of - help! Can anyone - " The rest of that sentence is lost as Alex once again has to devote the rest of his attention to keeping those wickedly curved claws from taking a sizable chunk out of him. No other choice here but to keep running and hope he crashes into someone who knows how to kill or maim or otherwise get rid of this thing. Dignity be damned. Pride be damned. He lost all claims to pride the minute he started shrieking to help at the top of his goddamn lungs.

Speaking of which -

"Help!?"

Alex Kralie, the only man who can manage to make a desperate entreaty for aid sound utterly and deeply sarcastic.

February 9th; the Hide Behind

He's been camped in the same spot for hours. His palms are slick with sweat, his tongue stuck out between his teeth in concentration, hunched in scattered underbrush as he waits for the telltale rattle-hiss of the thing he knows is after him. Stalking him.

"Come on," he whispers, eyes narrowed at the empty air in front of him. "Come on, you stupid son of a bitch. I know you're out there. I heard you. I heard you. Come on out."

And so it goes, a quiet, ongoing litany as he waits and waits and waits and waits for the thing behind him to show its goddamn self. He's had enough of things he can't see. He's going to chase this one down, wallpaper every tree in the forest with its ugly mug.

There it is. The rattle. The click-clack-click of the beast drawing near.

Alex grins faintly, poised to spin around and catch it in the click and flash of a shutter. 1/500th of a second. That's all it'll take. Come on. Not so mysterious now, are you, Mr. Monster?

[ooc: prose or brackets are good, will match accordingly]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alex doesn't really register that he recognizes the girl behind the counter, or much of anything, because he's still swiping at the empty space behind him, glancing around nervously as he waits for the next cloud of insectlike lights to swarm him with their high-pitched chittering voices.

"You got any fly swatters," he says flatly. "I need like ten."

"Y-Yes, right away!" Unable to detect sarcasm, she quickly runs out from behind the counter, running to a shelf. Those flyswatters may or may not be made out of actual newspaper. She carries as much as her arms will allow, and heads back to the counter.

"You guys have a hell of a mosquito problem here," says Alex, who's still flinching despite being completely bereft of bite marks of any kind, "you know that?"

And what the fuck is this. Newspapers? Seriously?

After placing the flyswatters on the counter, she returned to the register, resuming fidgeting. "I-I'm so sorry!" She gulped out loud. "I-I'll see if I can catch any mosquitoes and get rid of them! Please don't let them sully your image of the store, Mister Pines w-works very hard!"

"Wh - " Hang on, Alex's mouth just caught up to his head and he's realizing he recognizes this girl. She's the sarcasm-deficient nurse person, right? Oh, shit. He's probably raising kind of a racket. Whoops.

"Um, shit, lemme just - no, uh, it's okay." He holds up both hands, palms out, suddenly a bit off-guard. Does she work for Stan? God what a nightmare. Much as he might detest the guy, that doesn't mean he should go taking it out on his hapless employees. Alex has been there, man, he's worked retail, and it's no fun for anyone. "Seriously, it's fine."

As they had mostly spoken through texts, Mikan was taking much longer to recognize him back. But at least she relaxes as he seems to 'no longer be angry'. Though she folds up inside of herself, shifting weight from one foot to the other, back and forth.

"Um... is there anything else I can help you with?" She asks as she watches him expectantly.

He's seen her video around - it's not his fault he can't respond in anything but text, after all. He looks at her blankly and eventually comes to the logical conclusion that, based on that, she doesn't know him. Whoops. Nice.

"I'm Alex." He raises his eyebrows, tone rising with the pitch of expectation. "Alex Kralie? Text-only-guy. Didn't know you worked here."

A gasp. "Alex! I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you!" This was despite the clear fact she couldn't have possibly have known it was him. But things were always her fault. That was just the nature of her life.

"P-Please forgive me! I'm so sorry, I..." In a desperate attempt to earn his forgiveness, she took one of the flyswatters, and held it out. "T-Take this for free!"

"Uh, it's not like I've ever put my face on the network - " Mikan's distress is kind of alarming, and like a gentlemen, Alex has no fucking clue how to deal with it.

But hell, he'll take the flyswatter if it ends up pissing Stan off. He holds off on it, eyeing Mikan warily. "Don't, uh, don't worry about it?"

So maybe they lost a sale, but Mikan decides Mister Pines will either understand, or it can be added to her debt. She backs up, but seems to relax smidgen.

"O-Okay... I hope it comes in use for you..."

Alex snorts.

"I got issues with your boss, but it's nothing to do with you. Sure this won't get you in trouble or something?" He waves the cheap flyswatter around indicatively, as if testing its weight. Hopefully it'll do in a pinch. Get those damn fairy-things off his back.

"I-It's okay!" Mikan held up her hands in objection. "Mister Pines i-is very smart, maybe he'll understand... and if it's added to my debt, th-that's okay too. He halved it, so it's much e-easier to pay off!"

Indeed, 500 was much easier to finish than 1,000.

"He put you in debt?" Alex frowns sharply. The more he hears about Stan's business practice, the more he's really starting to the loathe the guy.

He glances at his wallet, then shrugs. What the hell. It'll probably all dissolve once the vent is over, right? So, whatever. She seems like a nice girl, and he's got nothing better to do with the money. So he counts out fifty and slides it over the counter.

"Give him that to pay it off, if he'll take it."

A loud, audible gasp of gratitude. All that money, just for those flyswatters? She could weep! She ever so carefully picks up the money as if it was made out of fine china.

"Thank you... thank you so much, Alex! I'll do anything to repay you, absolutely a-anything!"

Pff, please. If it pisses Stan off it's worth it. Plus, she makes chocolate, so it's like it all pays out.

"Don't worry about it." He eyes his newly-purchased flyswatter. "Knowing your boss, that's probably how much he'd charge for this anyway."

'cause you thought you'd escaped

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