"Part of me is the Hang Man, and part of me is the victim." (OPEN!!)

[mviw]

Who: Ford Pines (mviw) his owl and YOU!
Where: Various (Mystery Shack, the Library, & Elsewhere)
When: Gravity Falls Event through Upcoming Memory Event
Rating: PG-13 for potential swearing.
Summary: Ford adjusts to Wonderland by trying to be a shut-in, but his family and new friends have other plans. Also, he has an owl and a driving sense of curiosity.
The Story: Pick a prompt or start your own!

A. "Let's end the charade. This game is over." (CLOSED to Stan) Gravity Falls Event: At night (Backdated)

[Ford always prefers privacy over socialization, so this event is shaping up to be one headache after another. During daylight hours, Ford avoids the tours being given by his brother and instead he spends most of his time in the forest. Illusion though it is, it's a familiar one. At night, unable to sleep as usual, he opens his window to let his owl fly freely while he creeps through the 'house' looking for the basement levels and his journals.

The basement is what he looks for first behind the vending machine... And to his disappointment and frustration, it isn't there.]

Damn.

[It's a hushed utterance followed by a pang of fear. He doesn't like feeling trapped. Of course Wonderland wouldn't provide the portal or its equipment, but... it was worth a try.

Ford hears a sudden noise; probably someone sneaking through the house after hours. Not wanting to explain why he's in his brother's gift shop in the middle of the night, Ford slips behind the cashier counter to wait them out.]

B. "There's a room full of people in your head." (OPEN) Gravity Falls Event: Shack/Forest (Backdated)

[Ford can be found in the house kitchen hoarding orange juice or exiting a room with a mysteriously carved door.

Otherwise, he will be out in the forest assisting both creatures and mansion residents to minimize destruction of his-- well, it's not really his home, but it's close enough. He may be an old science man but he has a laser gun and he knows space karate.]

C. "I don't even know who's at the wheel." (OPEN) Library (Current)

[Ford is spending less time in his room and more time in the library, as of late. Rather than check out books and take them to actual privacy, he's been enjoying the massive volume of information right at his disposal and all that comes with it; the smell of binding and paper, the hushed atmosphere, the sense of awe he's never lost when he knows he can always learn more.

At the chosen table he's set up stacks of books in various piles. The largest pile by far is on birds of prey--specifically owls. In the middle of it all are sheets of paper with doodles of who some might recognize to be his family, but mostly of his owl who he accidentally summoned from the closet several weeks prior. Included in the drawings are scenes from the mansion and Wonderland itself as well.

Not only is he a nerd, but he seems to be quite the artist.]

D. "You've gotta follow the voice you wanna follow." (OPEN) Write your own starter.

Comments

A.

[charlastan]

[Strangely enough, the one creeping around in the middle of the night is Stan. He'd made a big show of how exhausted he was after a long hard day of scamming interdimensional suckers, but here he is a few hours later, in his underwear and slippers, creeping around with a flashlight.

He's silent and serious as he enters the room, scanning as is he expects to find someone lurking there in the dark. When he doesn't spot anything though, he moves to the vending machine and punches in the usual code...and nothing happens.

Stan scowls at the machine and tries punching the code in again, harder this time. It doesn't help. When the door doesn't open after a third attempt, that's when Stan stops trying to be subtle and quiet about it. He grips either side of the vending machine to try and shove it away from where the hidden door is supposed to be.]

Ugh! C'mon, you stupid goddamn-- Move!

[mviw]

[... Stanley? What on earth is he--

Right. Of course. Stan isn't the only one who wants to go home and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why he wants to get down to the basement. At first, Ford is irritated, but he understands being on the other side of space and time and homesick.

Ford steps out from behind the counter and crosses the shop to Stan, folding his arms over his chest.]

It's not going to work. The basement isn't there, I already checked.

[charlastan]

[Stan nearly jumps out of his skin and shouts, whipping around like it's going to be someone or something else, but as soon as he sees it's just Ford he calms right down, going from spooked to annoyed in record time.]

Ford, what the hell? Are you tryin' to gimme a heart attack here?!

[It got Stan to stop trying to shove the vending machine, but he does give it one last frustrated kick for good measure.]

Hmph. Should've known Wonderland wouldn't make a perfect replica of the place...

[mviw]

[Don't be a drama queen, Stan. :I ] That would be way too easy. What were you hoping to find? The journals?

[he takes a beat] ... I dismantled the portal after I came back through it. Having it around was too dangerous. I know you want to get home and-- so do I, but there has to be some other way.

D.

[pottershotter]

[One day, late in February, Ford's owl is going to bring home something a little...different than the usual things he brings back to hoard. This time, the owl will be carrying an old-fashioned envelope, as if it stole someone's mail. But there is no postal service in Wonderland, and if Ford investigates he'll find it is addressed as follows, in purple ink and fancy script:]

To Whom It May Concern
And/or the Owner of This Lovely Owl
Possibly on the Mansion's Third Floor
(though we are admittedly unsure)
Wonderland

[mviw]

[... Huh. This is... unusual. Is this a Wonderland thing? Ford gives Lee a few affectionate pets at his roost near the window before he takes the letter and looks it over.]

"To whom it may concern," eh?

[He is certainly the owner of the owl. Ford is still suspicious of this, but a part of him is also equally excited. He hopes the letter is from someone decent in Wonderland and not a trick of this dimension, but he won't know until he opens the envelope and reads its contents. He does so cautiously and uses several techniques to check if the envelope actually contains some foreign substance. When he's satisfied it doesn't, he finally opens it to read the auspiciously written letter.]

[pottershotter]

[The letter isn't on normal paper but old-fashioned parchment and reads, in two different inks:]

To Whom It May Concern (And/Or the Owner of this Lovely Owl),

Greetings! Mr Prongs and Mr Padfoot hope this letter finds you well, both literally and figuratively. It is not very often we find an owl flying about Wonderland, and we simply had to investigate the matter immediately.

As you can imagine, your owl was quite busy at work doing whatever it is owls occupy themselves with when not delivering their post, and thus although we have narrowed his home down to the third floor, we have been as yet unable to ascertain into which window he actually flew. One can only fetch one’s broom so quickly, after all.

This is very true. Though, we were very surprised to find an owl in Wonderland at all! Wizards are very small in number here, and there has not been much need to reestablish Owl Post with just the three of us here (Mr Padfoot, Mr Prongs, and the beautiful Lady Prongs). Still, it is nice to see a bit of home here. Are you from Wizard Britain then?

Not that we wouldn’t be just as thrilled to welcome an American into the fold. Although it is a bit hard to tell where people are actually from, sometimes. Wonderland is almost too helpful in that regard! (And utterly unhelpful in all others.) We’ll be happy to fill you in on all the ways in which it has and continues to ruin our lives.

We hope to hear from you soon! Letters can be addressed to either Room 1 or Room 4 on the Seventh Floor.

Most sincerely,
Messrs Padfoot and Prongs

P.S. Your owl, though lovely, could use some manners if he is going to deliver your mail - he nearly made off with my wedding ring and he nips hard!

1/3

[mviw]

[It's a very nice letter, in very interesting ink, and that last part about Lee trying to take some poor guy's wedding ring gets a laugh out of Ford... but...

Wizards? Wizard Britain? Owls delivering mail? Brooms that do something other than sweep? "Padfoot" and "Prongs"? If they have nothing to hide, why are they signing this letter with what Ford assumes are pseudonyms? Is that a "wizard" thing?

Ford has so many questions and, in true form of an adventurer, he fetches parchment from the closet and takes it to his desk where he already has an inkwell and pen waiting for him. There are people from all over the multiverse here. It certainly couldn't hurt to write back.]

2/3

[mviw]

[In a neat, confident hand, Ford begins to pen his return letter.

The letter is addressed thusly:]

To Messrs Padfoot & Prongs
Either Room 1 or Room 4
Seventh Floor
Wonderland
Dimension #(Unknown)

[And now for the letter itself.]

Greetings to you both!

The letter did find me well, both figuratively and literally, although I must admit that its contents left me somewhat bewildered. I believe there has been an unfortunate mistake regarding my identity; for I am definitely not a wizard of any kind, although I have studied magic and magical creatures extensively. The recent event in the American town was my home of Gravity Falls, Oregon; a nexus of supernatural, paranormal, and highly anomalous phenomena. There is indeed a "Mystery Shack" there, though its museum leaves much to be desired with its contents.

I would not mind further correspondence between yourselves and I, as your letter seems genuine and sincere, and I hope that my lack of wizardry is neither a deterrent nor a disappointment. I'm sure we have much to discuss and, if this letter finds you at all (pardon my skepticism on the concept of an "Owl Post"), I hope you will see fit to reply.

Thank you for the most pleasant surprise,
The Author

P.S. I apologize for my owl's manners. He likes to collect shiny objects but he is very friendly, I promise. He responds to the name "Lee."

3/3

[mviw]

[Under the mysterious title he gave himself--or rather, the name Dipper gave him-- Ford draws the simple outline of a six-fingered hand. Two good pseudonyms deserve another, and a matching symbol they can ponder over as appropriate.

With the letter sealed and addressed, Ford finds Lee on one of his perches.]

Hey. Hey Lee. Um. I know you're just an owl, but... [Oh who is he kidding? Owls don't deliver letters!] Ugh, this is silly.

[... Is it, though? Lee blinks at Ford, tilting his head in what might be considered a questioning manner. Ford gives Lee a few affectionate strokes. He's a good owl, really, and fun company--he's handsome too. The only thing that's rather remarkable about him other than his friendly nature is the extra talons on his scaly feet.]

... Would you deliver this letter? It's to the guys who sent me the other one. [On a whim he holds it out. Lee inspects it and lets out an indignant hoot, but very surprisingly, he takes the letter in his beak and lifts from his perch in a flurry of feathers and beating wings.

Astounded, Ford stumbles back and watches the great owl fly from the window with a newfound awe and delight for his feathery friend.]

...

Huh. I guess he is a magic owl.

[Well owl about that.]

B

[naughty_nurse]

[Since Mikan had been "hired" to work the register, she's seen Ford pass by every now and then. She's highly nervous about this man who looks like Stan, but every time, she's super polite. She bows as deeply as her body will allow.]

I h-hope you have a good day, Mister Pines!

awwwww CUTE

[mviw]

[Ford has seen this girl around and he assumes she's one of the people Stan roped into working the shop, probably as a consequence of Ford giving the other Pines twins a free pass to explore the woods. He's surprised at the greeting, but a little delighted at how polite it is, so he stops and bows back.]

Oh, uh-- thank you-- um... Sorry, I don't know your name.

[naughty_nurse]

Th-that's my fault! I should have introduced myself! B-But you seemed very busy, and, I, um...

[She fidgets, before trying again.]

M-My name is... Mikan Tsumiki.

B

[onetruemorty]

[ This has been the kind of event that Morty can genuinely enjoy, for the most part. He's probably the last person who'd say he's usually lucky when it comes to new weird things, unless barely escaping them alive counts as lucky. And sure, he spent some time in Christmas jail with the guy who runs this place and didn't come away the biggest fan.

Something about the location and the hokey tourist trap just feels... friendlier than a lot of places he's been to. Who cares how fake the jackalope and the Sascrotch are? Being obviously fake just means that many fewer things trying to kill him.

Venturing out towards the forest is the natural result of starting to feel secure in his own surroundings. This place is pretty nice! He can handle this. He meets some weird clones in the forest and it's totally okay. None of them try to eat him. They're also way better at handling being duplicates than he was. But maybe not being locked up in a dungeon helps. Morty feels surprisingly confident in his handling capacity after the first day or so.

If the way he runs past Ford, screaming and covered in irate fairies, is any indicator, literally all of that confidence was moot and backfired horribly. THIS IS NOTHING LIKE FAIRY TALES AT ALL WHY??? ]

[mviw]

[Ford has seen enough weird things that this shouldn't phase him; and it doesn't really, but it's probably one of the funniest things he's witnessed since he arrived in Wonderland and with Mabel and Dipper as his relatives that's saying something.

So he laughs.

And then he goes after that poor kid. Fairy bites are itchy and glittery and really annoying.]

HEY! HEY KID!! Just stand still and swat them away! Water works really well too! Watch.

[Where did that spray bottle come from? His coat? Is it a Coat of Holding? Hammerspace? And why? We can't be certain of anything except that the fairies don't like being sprayed with water mist. It weighs their wings down.

Sorry, Morty, you're getting gently spritzed. It's for your own good.]

[onetruemorty]

[ It's not the first time an old guy with a Coat of Holding has laughed at him in a situation like this. And as long as Rick is around, it sure won't be the last. Although if he ever thinks about it in the future, it's a lot more likely that Rick would just act like it's a huge pain in his ass. That's just his way.

Now Morty may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but the general advice has him starting to calm down enough to put together "water works" and "watch"-- or to at least get a start on it. Enough that he's not completely taken aback by a sudden spritzing, so much as he wasn't sure how he was supposed to watch it.

But sure enough, the fairies start to head for drier pastures. Morty shoos one or two particularly stubborn ones away with one hand while he's scratching his shoulder with the other. ]

Wow. Th-thank you! [ This old man... is a miracle. ] I didn't know all that about the water and all. I-I-I was pretty worried I was just, gonna get my face eaten or something, you know?

[ Or his head shrunk. Anything is possible. ]

C

[needlebearer]

"Is that your sigil?" Arya peers over Ford's shoulder, on tiptoes to see the many drawings of the owl. Some of the stacks of books are even taller than she is, and she's weaved between them carefully to avoid knocking them over as she approaches in her own curiosity to see what could require so much deep reading.

[mviw]

Being hyper-aware of one's surroundings is a decades-ingrained habit, but sometimes Ford is so lost in what he's doing that watching his own back is secondary to his work.

He jumps slightly, blinking and looking not unlike a surprised owl. Within a hot second he knows there's no danger, and he smiles at the young girl inquiring about all the owls.

"My sigil? Oh, haha, no... I pulled him from the closet and he decided to stay with me, so I gave him a name. Lee's kept me company for a few weeks and I thought it would be a good idea to brush up on my knowledge of birds."

Thoughtfully though, he adds: "I guess you could say this is my sigil."

On a blank spot, Ford quickly pens a six-fingered hand symbol. Fitting because, well... he has six fingers on each one himself.

[needlebearer]

A hand was an unusual symbol, but not unheard of. Arya remembered seeing the stone hand at House Flint ablaze at the Red Wedding, and her stomach turns at the sudden, unwanted memory. She racks her brain for more - there was one from the Iron Islands that she remembered Theon describing to Robb, a bony, skeletal hand, white on red, but she couldn't remember the name of the House. It was more the composition of the hand in front of her that was odd, and she finds herself counting the fingers aloud just to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

"What House does it belong to?" She finds herself asking, instead of just simply asking his name. It was novel to find some aspect of this place and its people that she could relate to her own world and experiences at all.

C.

[powerofmabel]

[What Mabel is doing under the table is anyone's guess. It's cozier down there? She wants to give Ford more elbow room with his books and drawings? She is on a desperate quest to see if he has twelve toes and maybe if she stares at his shoes hard enough, she can figure it out?

The world will never know.

Either way, now that the mansion's back to normal, she's decided that she needs to spend some time with Ford alone to get a better understanding of him. And possibly find some way to get him and Stan to stop being... well, them without provoking a major disaster.

Plus she clearly has a lot in common with Ford. Just look at those doodles. She's got a few of her own under the table with her, as well as a collection of smelly markers and glitter pens.]

So I'm thinking even if the closets can't give us hybrid animals, we could totally figure out a way to make them anyway. There's a lot of potential here, and have I mentioned I'm an expert matchmaker?

[the world couldn't stop at the snadger. science can do so much more.]

[mviw]

[Ford doesn't mind spending time with Mabel at all. She's weird. She likes to create art. And, most importantly, she is unashamed of her glittery outlook on life--and she shouldn't be. He also hears she's great at punching things, including unicorns, and that makes him a very proud uncle. Mabel can share his drawing space any day.]

Oh, of course we could! I'd need a full lab and cloning apparatus but it can definitely be done. Imagine real flying pigs.

[Ford why are you telling this to Mabel what are you doing]

[powerofmabel]

[she jumps up so hard, it's a miracle she doesn't hit her head on the table.] Are you serious? We could eliminate the impossible, Grunkle Ford. From here on out, no one would be able to say, "Sure, Mabel, when pigs fly" to tell me that something isn't gonna happen.

[she clutches her little heart dramatically, her tone taking on a mock-grave quality.] It's been a surprisingly hurtful part of my childhood.

c

[monosaccharide]

[There's a pink woman in the library today, carrying what looks to be manuals on advanced robotics and programming. She pauses as she catches sight of his drawings.]

Huh, those are nice. What's with all the owls?

[mviw]

[Oh hey! It's the Bubblegum Princess. Princess Bubblegum? Right?

...Manuals on advanced robotics and engineering, huh?]

Oh, thanks! I was testing the closet to see what it could produce and the owl it gave me decided to stick around, so I gave him a name. Ornithology isn't my specialty so I thought it wouldn't hurt to do an in-depth study.

What's with the books on advanced robotics? Is it for a building project? [It's a sincere question. Princesses made of candy who are skilled at engineering and potentially advanced mathematics are the kind of things he's interested in, academically speaking.]

[monosaccharide]

Yep. Brushing up so I can annihilate my enemy. [Her tone is so cheerful.] Technology options around here are just different enough to keep me on my toes.