You know, there ain't no rest for the wicked. Money don't grow on trees! | OPEN

[charlastan]

Who: Stan Pines [charlastan] and YOU!
Where: Anywhere on Genosha, but mostly the sketchier parts of the city.
When: 8/5 - 8/9
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Stan's lived a pretty rough life on Genosha, despite being a mutant. He doesn't look like a mutant at a glance and doesn't have obviously provable powers, so he's fallen into a life of hard crime to get by and now...now, he's watching his great-niece and nephew. And an extra litter of illegally smuggled laser puppies.
The Story:

A. Dead End Flats - Stan's Shitty Apartment - 8/5/16 (Closed to Dipper and Mabel)

"¡Escuchen! ¿Qué demonios se supone que debo hacer con esta cantidad de perros?! Vas a tomar todos ellos o te rompo todos los huesos del cuerpo! ...Hello?"

[Stan stares at the phone in his hand and then slams it on the receiver. Great. The guy hung up on him and now he's going to be out twelve grand. More importantly though, his suppliers are going to be out another twelve grand, and if he doesn't scramble and get it to Rico soon he's gonna send his goons out to try and rough him up. Normally he could take it, but...he's got a couple of kids staying with him, and they don't need to see that side of his life.

The contraband in question, is a box of puppies of indeterminate species at his feet, mutts that normally wouldn't sell for any considerable amount. Stan glares down at them and while most of them are unmoved, a couple yip excitedly and shoot lasers from their eyes. This gets all the others going, and Stan ducks for cover.]

No! No! Bad dogs! Uhh...

[He looks around for something to help stop them from shooting holes in the few things he owns, and eventually settles for dumping out a garbage can and sticking it over the puppy box.]

There! Problem temporarily solved! [A beat, and then he calls out to Dipper and Mabel.] KIDS! WHO WANTS TO TAKE A PUPPY HOME AND NEVER TELL THEIR PARENTS HOW THEY GOT IT?


B. Downtown, some alley in a shopping district - 8/6/16 (OPEN)

[There's still a good amount of puppies left, and he's gotta get rid of them as fast as possible. If his seller ain't gonna take them, then he'll have to do it himself and mark them up to make it worth his while. He's set up in a dark alley, with an refrigerator box turned on its side full of puppies running around and shooting red lasers from their eyes at the sides of the buildings around them.

Stan's just glad they haven't realized they could cut right through the box if they wanted.

He spends a lot of time watching the crowd of shoppers. It's probably mostly mutants, not so much because of how they look, but because no human Stan knows has the kind of cash to spend in a place like this. He's also well aware that he doesn't look like he belongs here either, with his torn-up coat and ratty clothes. At least he's got a good sturdy pair of boots, but they're always filthy.

He's equally aware that everyone who looks at him assumes he's powerless, assumes he's human unless someone actually believes him when he tells them otherwise. Frankly, it's just made him stop spending the effort trying to explain. Besides, it always makes it him feel better to sucker people that assume the worst of him.

A lot of his time is spent leaning against a wall loitering, but when he spies someone he thinks he can sell to, he stops them in their tracks.]

Say pal, why you here all by yourself? You look like exactly the sorta person who could use their own animal companion! One with unique breeding, I should add. [Obvious code for "Mutant-born" animals.] You, uh-- wanna take a look? ...You're not a cop, right? No cops allowed. Them's the rules.


C. In your dreams - any night (OPEN)

[At night is when Stan's powers truly come to life. Ever since he was a young boy, he's been able to manipulate and traverse the mindscape, altering his own dreams and the dreams of others. He can even alter his own appearance in dreams, making himself look any way he wants to, or hiding himself as needed.

But when he was a boy, his powers did not extend far at all - just to the nearest sleeping form, who was always Ford. As a result, no one believed him when he said he had powers too. No one except Ford.

Once his father threw him out (for being a good-for-nothing dead-weight human who would never be able to make a living, let alone a fortune) he started to practice with his abilities more. Now...now, he's not sure how far they extend, honestly. He's tried to figure it out by trying to remember whose dream he's in and figuring out where they live (or at least where they usually sleep), but it's tough to tell. Essentially he has to skip from one person's dream to the next. They're all connected within the mindscape, but he has to pass through the dreams of the person across the street to get to the dreams of someone on the next street over, and so on and so forth.

The farthest he's managed to travel thus far, as far as he can tell, has been two miles. But he always tries to leave himself enough time to get back to his own dreams - if he doesn't make it back to his own head before he wakes up, he's tugged back forcefully across town and wakes up with a killer migraine.

He can't help himself though - there's always that itch to use his power when he's asleep, since he can't when he's awake. So, Stan wanders around a little most evenings, seeing what dreams are lurking in the minds of those around him. Occasionally he pays people visits, either friendly social calls or attempts to plant ideas in the minds of people who could be swayed to buy things from him, but often he tries to go unnoticed. That...doesn't always work out as planned though.]


D. In BILL'S dreams - 8/8/16 (Closed to Bill Cipher)

[Stan's still disoriented from trying to separate himself from this...this weird life the event's given him and what his actual memories are. But despite that, he's okay. He's reorienting himself, and he's fine. It's just more Wonderland bullshit; what else is new? ...Aside from the weird ache of the hardships of a life that wasn't even real. The same can't be said of Ford though. The guy's falling apart and Stan is livid.

So, possibly against better judgement, he's out for petty revenge while he can get it.

It takes him a long time to find Bill - he wasn't sure where the guy was living in this stupid event, and it's been hell trying to find his way. He'd gotten used to the general rhythms of the dreams of his neighbors and their weird patterns, but now that everyone is starting to remember their dreams have been changing to accommodate.

Eventually though, he steps into a dream that feels like it might be the one. He slips himself into the shadows and waits for either an opportunity to strike, or a sign to move on to another dream instead. But he's got a pretty good feeling about this one, and he's gotten pretty far trusting his terrible instincts already.]


E. Other - Whenever (OPEN)

[ooc: Got something else you want with Stan? Toss it here anyway!]

Comments

B;

[doods]

[ Soos is a natural easy sell. He likes Stan, and he likes radical animals: just like any other man in the world would. Sure, he was gonna approach Mr. Pines regardless of any selling strategies that might come to fruition today, but a bonus never hurt.

He hears barking and pew-pew sounds.

This was over before it began. ]

Dude. You read my exactness exactly.

[charlastan]

Great! Lemme show you to the merchandise.

[Perfect. Soos'll help him get rid of these dogs. Stan slings an arm around Soos' shoulders and leads him into the sketchy alley behind them. This is more typical of them than it probably should be.]

Ta-da! An entire litter of mutant puppies! They shoot lasers outta their faces!

[It's pretty much exactly as described. There's a refrigerator box on its side with at least ten or so puppies of indeterminate breed running around happily and firing lasers from their eyeballs.]

[doods]

[ Soos has to take a moment of silence to truly appreciate the description he just heard. It doesn't really last longer than a moment, because he's Soos, but it's a very appreciative moment. ]

Dogs with lasers! [ He immediately loses a part of his hat to the chaos. ] Haha! What can't animals do anymore? Am I right, Mr. Pines?

b? i hope this works okay!!

[littlestreetcat]

[ Red lasers shooting around are practically a beacon. One or two, Selina would leave it be and just assume it's some Mutant going about their Mutant business, but what seems like a constant stream of them? That's enough to pique her interest and get her to check things out.

Having been hanging out on a rooftop just a block or so over from the source, she makes her way over fairly quickly, leaping from building to building with the occasional little move that's just for show--even if no one is watching. Once she reaches the ledge overlooking the alley, she peeks over and finds herself staring down at... Puppies. Puppies that are shooting lasers. Yikes, that's a dangerous pet if she's ever seen one.

It's no surprise, then, when she sees just who's selling the things. Or trying to sell them.

Stan. Not an unfamiliar face. She sees him around the area quite a bit, and okay, they've worked together here and there. He's not a bad dude to work with, really, but he does get some of the most ridiculous schemes going sometimes. As she slinks down a few levels of the fire escape, Selina can't help but smirk to herself and shake her head. ]

Bad sales day?

[ The call comes from up above, where she's now leaning against the railing of the fire escape, only two storeys up. And yes, she's still smirking, but it's in amusement more than anything else. Seriously, laser puppies. ]

[charlastan]

[Stan jumps a little, but only because he was caught off guard. When he looks up, he's not at all surprised to see who's there, and just launches right into conversation.]

Ugh, you're tellin' me! This wasn't even supposed to be a sales day! I was supposed to just transfer these little jerks to someone else and take my cut, but the asshole wouldn't take 'em! So now I've gotta sell 'em quick to pay off the guy I got 'em from!

[The puppies, meanwhile, can hear something above them and are very excited to have a new friend. They keep jumping and yipping and firing their lasers up in the air. Some of them ricochet off the bottom of the fire escape and others scorch nearby walls.]

You, uh-- might wanna watch out. Turns out these guys have a pretty decent firing range.

c. [cw misgendering, bullying]

[determinedest]

[When Frisk sleeps, they sleep fitfully. There's too many thoughts tossing around in their head, fears about the humans and the mutants who are constantly at each other's throats, nightmarish visions of Queen Heart, memories of laughter and sharp things and objects thrown at them and a circle of children crowing with laughter.

Their powers never work in their dreams. They didn't discover their powers until they were eleven, and in this particular dream they're eight years old again, standing in the middle of the schoolyard with their shoulders hunched.

"You gonna cry?" mocks one of the older kids.

"░▒e is! ▒e's gonna cry!" laughs another. Their features are indiscernible other than the eyes, cold and white and pointed, the sharp triangle of their open mouth biting into Frisk's vision as they laugh, over and over again.

"H▒▒ Mom and Dad didn't want h░▒," says the first to the second, matter-of-factly. "They'd never want a broken thing like h▒░."

They try to run (they always try to run), but one of them catches them around the middle and delivers a fierce kick to their shins, bringing them hard to the ground.

"Fight back!" one of the spits. "Come on, fight back!"

Fight back! the others chant in tandem, like they always do. Fight back, fight back, fight back!

But they don't.

They never do.]

[stanowar]

[Stan often tries to keep a low profile in other people's dreams. It lets him be sneakier and get away with more when he's trying to plant ideas. Honestly, he had no intention of stopping in this dream. It was supposed to just be a stepping stone to the next one, but...he knows those taunts. He heard the same crap decades ago, and it still stings to hear it suddenly.

So...he hangs back. He watches from the shadows. And the longer he watches, the more he can feel his teeth clench. Stan glares at the scene before him, fists balling at his sides. This is the kind of dream with a basis in reality, he can tell. This has happened to them before.

There are a lot of things he could do to interfere. He could shrink those kids down to the size of ants, or turn them into worms, or pop their fists right off of their wrists through the power of dreams. But...that wouldn't be as satisfying.]

HEY! Pick on someone your own size!

[It's the oldest line in the book, but when he steps out of the shadows he really is their size. He's shrunken himself down to how he remembers himself looking at that age - a bit dorky with his glasses and overalls, but full of righteous fury. He punches his palm, and blue flames surround his fist.]

You punks said you wanted a fight, didn't ya? C'mon, I'll even give you a few more targets!

[It requires more focus, but he spits himself into six copies of himself, all able to move independently of each other - but for one brief moment, they're all in sync, grinning wickedly.

And then, all six of them charge the crowd of bullies with the same loud war cry, fists ready to pummel them into pulp.]

[determinedest]

[No one's supposed to just show up. No one ever shows up. Why would they? They're just a cast-off, unwanted, no matter where they go or how hard they try. They don't want to fight back, they never fight back.

They don't expect someone to start fighting for them.

Frisk scrambles away in alarm as a row of defenders manifests, charging their tormentors with a cry. It sends most of them scattering like a flock of ducks.

And it leaves Frisk sitting in one place, eyes stretched wide as they stare at their rescuer. This...this never happens (their subconscious couldn't afford it), and they don't even recognize him.

It takes them a moment to find their voice, and even when they do, it's small and scared.]

Why'd you...why'd you do that?

B!

[mettatonvevo]

[Walking through the shopping district is both practical AND fashionable! Even if you haven't bought anything because you're slowly realizing that this entire life you thought you lead is actually a sham. He's distracted from these thoughts however by a... human? Mutant? Calling out to him from some shadowy alley way.]

Unique breeding, you say? What is so specifically unique about them?

[He walks over, his attention successfully grabbed. Especially since this man calling to him looks... very familiar.]

[charlastan]

[It takes Stan a moment to place why this guy would be familiar. It's on the tip of his tongue...but then, it finally clicks. Oh! This is Mettaton! Famous Mutant celebrity Mettaton! And famous celebrity means wealthy as hell, and Stan's eyes practically turn into dollar signs at the thought. He hurries Mettaton into the alley before he can change his mind.]

Well, you upper-crust elite types only want the best, right? And what could possibly be a better pet for the most famous guy in all of Genosha than the rarest breed of all - a Mutant Putt!

[He's still not sure what breed they're actually supposed to be, and he's had a whole two days to think about it, but never managed to come up with something better than "Putt" - "a mutt that looks vaguely pug-ish".]

These guys are part adorable animal, part laser light show!

[mettatonvevo]

[He's ushered into the alley way and he shakes his head. Well. Looks like he's been pulled into some kind of con but he honestly can't bring himself to step away. Especially since his curiosity about this man keeps growing by the second. He looks so familiar to him and the name Stanford comes to mind, but he knows it isn't right.]

A mutant putt? Why are they mutant-

[One of the puppies decides to show off its skills right then and Mettaton can't help but gasp softly in delight as it shoots a hole in a nearby building. Oh goodness. He loves it.]

Where did you get these delightful things?

C; hope this works!

[mypartnerintime]

[Max is bundled up in a sleeping bag at the far corner of some cold alley, not far away, but within a zone usually restricted to mutants. She's shivering, and her sleep is shallow, but she's dreaming...

A tall pile of scrap, including abandoned cars and other debris, looms over her. She's on her back and her left arm is bleeding. Bits of metal tumble down the scrap pile, and soon the entire thing starts to tip over. It bends toward her, tipping, tipping, until gravity really takes hold and the entire thing starts to fall. She screams, seconds away from dying, as the junk rains around her. But then she holds out her hand- and the pile seems to go into rewind. It tips the other way until it's standing properly again, no longer falling.

Her expression is contorted in fear. She's more scared of the rewind than she is of the junk. She calls out desperately.]

P-please! Someone... help...

[charlastan]

[Stan can usually figure out whether someone is sleeping outside or not. There isn't the same amount of space between their dream and the one before it, and they're colder than the dreams of people who have a roof over their head. He always catches himself lingering an extra moment or two in these dreams - he's been there. Not only has he been there, but he could be back there any day, if he screws up the wrong job.

He was already watching when the tower of crap started to fall, and out of instinct he rushed forward--!

...only to find himself suddenly back where he started. Huh? He blinks and looks at his hands and then back at the scene - which is the same, except she's crying out for help a few minutes too early. It takes him a second, but then the realization strikes. Time rewound. It's just going to fall again.

With that in mind, he heads over again, arriving at the tower just as it's starting to waver again. Pieces begin to fall, but Stan lifts a hand and all of it stops. Instead, the loose pieces hover in the air and debris that was still loose on the structure floats off, as if gravity reversed itself only around the pile. With that all set, he turns around and looks at the girl on the ground.]

...You alright?

[She sure doesn't look it, but at least nothing's going to fall on them now.]

[mypartnerintime]

[Max cradles her arm gingerly. Her shocked stare shifts between the junk pile and Stan.

He made it stop. Mutant?

She made it go backwards... Mutant?

Pieces of scrap float above them. She sits up straighter and tries to edge away from him, afraid.]

Yes, but I didn't... I didn't mean to...

[She keeps trying to apologize, but can't get the words out. She's sorry she did whatever she did to the pile of junk- but she thought she was going to die, and there was no one nearby to save her, and... and it just happened.]

...Thanks. For that. [She tilts her head in the direction on the junk.]

A

[krmvgivv]

[Dipper is reading, because of course Dipper is reading. Some things are the same in any reality. When he hears Stan yelling to them about puppies and not telling their parents he looks across the room at Mabel.]

Oh, this'll be good.

[Almost without thinking about it, the shadows that he can always feel somewhere in the back of his mind crawl around the door and block out any light from passing through.]

WE'RE SLEEPING!

[powerofmabel]

[From her corner of the room, Mabel has managed to make a very sparkly light-illusion of herself that she's presently making faces at as it, in turn, mimics the faces. this will be handy later and isn't just because she likes the idea of a literal 3D mirror she can have a real staring contest with.

At first, she goes along with her brother, too focused on her practicing to pay any attention.]

WE'RE DE- [well she starts to say her part of that at the same time Dipper announces that they're sleeping, but then her brain catches up.] Wait. Did he say puppies???

[she steamrolls through her illusion which dissipates in a flash of sparkly light and leaps off the bed, bounding to the door.] Never mind. We're all better now- it's a miracle!

[charlastan]

[Stan hasn't known these kids long, but he's pretty sure the P U P P Y word will at least grab Mabel's attention, and he's not surprised at all by this reaction. He just laughs.]

Sheesh, you recovered fast!

[He puts his hands on the overturned trash can and almost removes it, but then he hesitates.]

You, uh. Might wanna duck for cover.

[And before anyoe can ask him why, Stan removes the garbage can and lo and behold! A dozen puppies of indeterminate breed! ...All firing lasers from their eyes in different directions.]

Ta daaaa!

c, the night of the 6th!

[sciencelizard]

[Alphys has never, never passed for human. Mutants have it better than humans, and it's always been fine, but it's hard to keep the peace- hard to say "everyone's the same" when you're one of the few that's so objectively not. She's prone to nightmares, half the time ones she doesn't understand, of people disappearing and things melting together and all around unpleasantness.

Tonight, however, she's alone- or it seems like it. She's stuck in what looks like a run-down science lab, shuffling around in her coat, always seeming to go the wrong way, make a wrong turn, ending up running in circles. The more she does this, the more she's sure she hears it, and Stan might too- a shuffling of feet, shadows casting where they shouldn't, and breathing that seems can only be heard when she's not looking. Something's here, and she's jumpy, trying to move faster, outrun it, but she just keeps hitting dead ends.

Maybe, uh, approach with caution. She might mistake ya for the 'monster'.]

[charlastan]

[Stan hates passing through dreams like this. It's not even because the shuffling is unsettling (even though it is) - it just takes him forever to get through them. He's taken to calling them "anxiety mazes", for lack of a better word. They're not always literal mazes but the whole point of them is to be lost and uncomfortable and for fuck's sake can't he just step through someone else's dreams to get from Point A to Point B without getting caught up in their nightmares?

It's taking him too long to find a good exit point. He's not trying to meddle, but in a moment of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Stan winds up being that "shuffling noise" just behind her. He's not the mysterious shuffling, but he's a mysterious shuffling and thus an easy target to latch onto.]

[sciencelizard]

[She doesn't tend to actually fight back in these sorts of situations- most of these dreams are spent running for cover, or finding a place to hide, or, when she can figure out it's a dream, trying to force herself to wake up. But it's also never been so close before. She thinks she might be hallucinating, at first, but then it's absolutely right behind her and she has to do something something--

So she spins around quick, screams, and slaps with all of her might, before actually opening her eyes and realizing, oh, this is a person. And... pretty decidedly not a monster.]

... W-Who're you-- Oh my g-god I just hit you I'm s-so sorry.

B

[drummeintheface]

[Greg immediately catches on. This guy wants to play cops and robbers! And Greg is the best cop Genosha's ever seen.]

Sorry, citizen, but I have to tell you that I really am a cop! That's another rule.

[Greg crosses his arms behind his back and sticks his chin up, looking around like he's doing some sneaky investigating.]

Soooo. What kinda crimes are you up to here, criminal? Something with--

[ZAP.. A laser shoots right past Greg's ear and his eyes blow wide. He jumps back and throws his hands up defensively, mist drifting around his wrists.]

Whoa! That's illegal! Mom says it's illegal to use your powers at people! Even if they're just clouds and people only get wet!

[Mom doesn't say "illegal", but still.]

Whoever did that's gonna have to come with me to the station!

[...Actually, yeah, who did do that? Greg's eyes are still wild with surprise so he needs a little help here.]

[charlastan]

[Usually Stan's not selling anything that would or should be sold to children, but he'd called out to this one because well, maybe he'd go try and get his parents to buy him a laser puppy. He...wasn't really expecting this to turn into cops and robbers, but he can roll with it. Sure, whatever. As long as he can slip out of the "robber" role, that is.]

Uhhhh. You're too late, Officer! I already caught the perps! Wanna see?

[Stan looks around to make sure no one's looking (where the hell are this kid's parents?!) and gestures for him to come a little closer to see the criminals in question - an open refrigerator box full of puppies that shoot laser out of their eyes.]

Yep. They wouldn't stop so I had to put 'em in jail. Bail's a thousand bucks per pup.

[drummeintheface]

Whoa! Dog jail!

[Greg drops to his knees and starts petting every puppy he can reach. Because even criminals need scritches behind their ears!

He looks up at the old man, frowning.]

These criminals look like they've learned their lesson. [A laser singes Greg's hair and he startles again. This doesn't change his mind.] I don't have a thousand bucks though.

D.) Sweet dreams aren't made of this~

[ghflskhu_ph]

[Stanley wouldn't have to wait for reassurance long. Even if Bill couldn't hope to be normal in any capacity, one critical difference sets his dreamscape apart from the countless others.

It's the only dream that's falling apart.

His feet may feel stable beneath him, but soon enough Stan will realize he isn't on any surface at all, he has stepped onto an open multicolored sky, the vertigo compelling one to fall through simmering just below the surface.

At the farthest edges of every horizon, patches of world fade into obscurity, not white, not void, just nothing. Dotting across the landscape, shapes shift from two dimensional and three dimension blocks. Sharp chunks of the backdrop hang suspended in midair, as if someone used the cutout tool in Paint, shifted them two inches to the left and overlapped them without any concept of depth perception. Absurd, nearly invisible-- nevertheless sharp.

And once Stanley looks up, he'll see it.

The shack.

Its truly been gutted; pieces of the portal from the basement and the entire staircase flat out ripped from the structure, descending in a nonsensical torrent to the "ground" where Stanley presently stands, like a stationary tornado. Finally atop the dilapidated wooden structure shines a golden light, impressively brighter than the already obnoxiously saturated sky.

It wouldn't be wise to stare too long, however, Stan might miss the "S" from the building dislodge itself without warning to hurtle down at him at rampant speed.]

[charlastan]

[Stan's never been in a dream like this one before. Granted, he knows now that he's only actually been able to be in dreams the past two days, but he has no false memories of any dreams as...corroded as this one. Everything about it feels unnatural, and that's saying something considering he's standing in a dream - they're about as unnatural as it gets.

When he steps into the dream he nearly trips, and has to hold his arms out to regain his balance. Once he's used to it though, once he knows he's not falling, he's able to walk anywhere he pleases. Now that his real memories have come back, he can tell how different it is from just being able to lucid dream. He's been able to do that for years, sort of slip into consciousness and manipulate his dreams, and he's gotten pretty good at it if he says so himself, but it's nothing like being able to dream walk. Outside of the event it would take an immense amount of concentration to mess with his dreams, and even when he does it everything maintains a heavy quality to it. He's lucid, but there's no doubt he's asleep.

In this event though, his powers allow him to feel so lucid in dreams that he feels awake. There's no difference in consciousness between day and night for Stan (and ironically, he hasn't felt "well-rested" in years, since he's not truly "resting" when he's asleep). Dreams are just an extension of his day, one where his powers are switched on and he's only limited by what his imagination can do and create.

Still...being in this warped dream immediately makes Stan suspect he's bitten off more than he can chew. But he's too angry to care. The Shack hangs ominously above him, and he wonders if Bill's been waiting for him, if he set up this dreamscape on purpose.

Stan doesn't have to wonder long though. He's squinting and trying to figure out what that bright spot at the top is when a giant "S" flies right at him at top speed.]

Holy--!

[He doesn't even have time to finish his curse. It's moving too fast for Stan to just slide out of the way, so he throws his hands up in front of him, willing it to stop, stop, STOP, STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

And it does. It hovers there in front of Stan, caught in his mental grip, and he stares at it for a moment, weighing his options. Ultimately, he goes with the first thing that comes to mind.

With some effort, he flings the "S" back as hard as he can, aiming for the bright spot at the top of the Shack.]