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Grunkle Stan's dæmon is a lanky length of fur, with sharp eyes. She used to be an albatross, according to the photo from Soos' new break room, but Stan laughs when Dipper asks what changed her, "You kids have some crazy ideas," Merys says, as she scuttles along Stan's throat, and vanishes under the fez.
"Nah," Stan tilts his hat, hiding her exposed tail. "Merys is a weasel. Been that way since I left home at sixteen."
"A weasel," Dipper rolls his eyes, "Go figure."
"Kid," Stan's tips his eyepatch up and drops down to Dipper's height, "You can't let a reputation-" He punctures the sentence with quotation marks, "Make you think you really know a guy." He waves a hand at Sidra, bluejay shaped on Dipper's shoulder. "You'll understand when she sets. It'll make sense."
With that Stan saunters away, Merys looping back out of the hat and whispering in Stan's ear. Probably talking about Dipper, given how she glances back at him. He grinds his teeth, and besides him Sidra puffs up into a hedgehog, pricking his face.
"Hey! Ow, ow-" Sidra immediately deflates into a squirrel, and at the counter, Wendy looks up, smiling perfectly, and arching her eyebrow just right. He immediately stuffs Sidra into his hat, before she can turn back into a jay and embarrass him by singing.
"Old man got you all riled up?" Wendy asks, flipping a page in her magazine, but watching him over the top of it.
"It's just-" Dipper lets Sidra out of his hat, and she crawls by his ear as a monarch butterfly. He crosses his arms over his chest, and Sidra flickers forms, "He's so frustrating!" He growls, rolling his eyes, and Sidra's squirrel claws dig into his jacket, "Weasel dæmons are totally an indicator of a weaselly personality. That's like- like! That's like the definition of dæmonology!"
"Dude, dude, chill," Wendy flicks her magazine onto the counter. She gestures a thumb towards the ladder, "Roof time." She stamps a boot down onto her cougar's tail, and Aspen gives a lazy yawn full of teeth.
Picking Aspen up, Wendy shoves her oversized dæmon up the ladder, clambering after it. Following after Wendy, Dipper scrambles onto the roof deck, and Wendy all but shoves a pitt cola in his face.
Sighing, Dipper sits down, and cracks it open, "You'll understand when you settle - I'm sick of hearing that," He scowls into his drink.
"Yeah, but like-" Wendy scruffs a hand on Aspen's head, "Dude's got a point," Her eyes roll, "I hate to say it, but like, I dunno. When Ass here," She tugs a whisker, "Actually settled, I was like what."
"But he's awesome," Dipper blurts out, but come on. A mountain lion.
"Haha, yeah," Wendy laughs, "Thanks man. But like, my dad's a bear. You ever seen a bear wrestle a mountain lion?" She takes a sip of her cola, glaring into the middle distance, "It's not pretty."
"Well, yeah-"
"Bear wins everytime," Aspen insists, and Wendy takes another gulp like she's throwing back a shot. "Everytime."
"Yeah, but," Dipper laughs nervously, "Sidra will probably end up being a squirrel, or something stupid."
"Come off it," Wendy insists, "That's my whole point!"
"Squirrels are awesome," Aspen adds in a low, rumbling voice.
"They're all- nervous," Sidra mutters, dropping off Dipper and taking up a wildcat form. It feels awkward, and uncomfortable, but they stand by it. "And- squirrelly."
"Well," Wendy shrugs, "Maybe that's you?"
"Don't even suggest it," Dipper groans, pressing his forehead against the can. It cools against his birthmark, and gives an expressive sigh.
"No, man, like okay, maybe a squirrel isn't as cool as a bear, or like a wildebeast, but-" Wendy waves a hand, "They're super fast - and they can climb up and down trees, what's that about! Plus they never forget things."
"I don't think that last one is true..."
"I'm telling you," She laughs, "They like keep these massive hoards of useful stuff, like your big brain. I dunno, maybe a squirrel suits you," Dipper can feel his face fall, Sidra's tail drooping, and Wendy waves her cola at him, "And hey, it's not like you two have settled yet."
She stands up, Aspen rolling to his feet lazily, "Anyway, don't think too hard about it," Wendy grins back at him, "Like Stan's a total conman, but weasels are tough."
With that, she and Aspen plunge off the roof, leaping into the pine trees. Besides him, Sidra gives a sigh, fading into a calico cat and watching the sandy-red of Wendy and her dæmon vanish. The moment is, however, ruined, when he hears Merys and Stan yell for them to get back to work.
Ever since they had to leave the shack, and stay with Soos' family, Stan and his dæmon have grown into a frantic sort of lying. Mabel is determined - ferocious - even about remaining positive, but it's hard to keep it up between Dipper's pessimism, and the anxiety following Stan around like a second shadow.
Therefore it is up to Mabel to get to the bottom of this, and it is with this in mind, that she upends Sylva into her sweater. Tiptoeing to the couch, Mabel crouches down and nudges Stan awake, "Grunkle Stan," She pokes at his face, "You gotta wake up." She frowns, whispering harshly. "We gotta talk."
"Hold up, I'm coming, I'm coming," Comes the sleepy voice of Merys. She pokes her head out from Stan's shirt. Skidding down Stan's chest, Merys flops at the edge of the couch, "Something wrong, kid?"
Mabel rests her head on the couch, nibbling at her hair, "You love us," She asks, "Right?"
Merys falters, before replying smoothly, "Yeah, course we do, sweetheart." She laughs awkwardly, "What brought this on?"
"Me an' Dipper, right?" Mabel checks, not quite sure she believes her Grunkle, or Merys.
"Yeah," Merys is quicker this time, "Don't go spreading it around, but we got a soft spot for you kids."
"Even Dipper and Sidra?" Mabel says around a mouthful of hair.
Stan seems to have woken up, faintly into the conversation, and groaning softly he sits up, cracking his back, "Course we do," He murmurs, gathering Merys up in his hands. "I know I'm a bit harsh on your brother-"
"A bit!" Sylva blurts out, and tumbles back down into Mabel's sleep-time sweater, pressing against her purple night gown.
"Hey, hey," Stan waves a hand, before his expression softens. "Sheesh, you kids are real close, aren't you?"
"Dipper's my best friend," Mabel nods fiercely. She clambers up onto the couch, "You gotta be nicer to my brother, please."
"You got it, Mabel," Stan promises, reaching out to stroke Mabel's hair. "No matter what, I'm gonna take care of you kids."
"That's a funny way of putting it," Mabel snuggles against his side, hugging him. "We love you too."
"Hey ready to head back dudes?" Lalita asks them, perched on Soos' shoulder. The rat dæmon nips Soos' ear, "Don't leave the kids out in the wood," She scolds with a stage whisper.
Soos lifts up the busted laptop, "But-"
"No buts," Lalita insists. "Come on."
"Nah," Dipper waves a hand, Sidra pressed against his neck, "You guys go on without us, Sidra and I are gonna- just-" He scuffs a foot on the log, digging it into the bracken stiffly, "Think for a bit. Y'know?"
"Alright," Lalita nods, resettling on Soos' shoulder. "Think we got enough duct tape?" She asks softly, as Soos begins to walk away.
Sighing lowly, Dipper scratches a mosquito bite on his arm. "Man," He mutters, "Still itchy." Sidra's squirrel tail flicks against his neck, and he reaches up to scratch her head as well.
"Whoo..." Dipper jumps, Sidra scampering under his hat as he realizes Mabel has flopped back down onto the log next to him. "What a day!"
"Mabel," He quickly adjusts his hat, moving Sidra's tail out of his face, "Wha- Aren't you going back with Soos?"
"Naw," Sylva flops against Mabel's leg as a small, fluffy looking puppy. "We wanna think with you."
"We were just gonna mope," Sidra peers out from under Dipper's hat, crawling back down to his collar.
"Cool," Mabel chirps, knocking shoulders with Dipper, "Can I help?" Her feet thump against the log rhythmically.
"Actually, moping is sort of a solo activity..." He trails off.
"Dipper," Mabel picks her dæmon up, hugging Sylva to her. "I think I was pushy because I just wanted at least one of us to have a summer romance, and I just got carried away," She bites her lip, chewing it. "It's like- I dunno. Sucky."
"Yeah," Dipper mumbles, and Sidra slides into his lap. "It really sucks. But hey," He shrugs at his sister, smiling forcibly, "I think I've sworn off romance this summer."
"Me too," Mabel groans, pulling at her face. She leans against Dipper with a sigh, "Starting now, I am done with guys."
Sylva looks up at Mabel, "We can really focus on finding the author. Unlocking the mysteries of Gravity Falls."
"Adventure!" Mabel shakes Dipper slightly, and Sidra clings to his shirt with her squirrel claws, "Maybe we'll even settle!" It sounds so promising, Dipper can't help but grin back at his sister, before pushing her off the log.
After the sockpera, Sidra doesn't take the squirrel form again. It's always something sharper, clawed and full of teeth; the wildcat becomes common, but there's also a toothy hyena, a skinny coyote, the odd wolf, the rare mongoose or marten. Wendy mentions it, and Dipper shrugs it off, saying it feels more comfortable.
Honestly, it doesn't. It doesn't fit right, but at the same time, it's reassuring and that feels a lot more comfortable than the paranoia fizzling in his gut.
Soos tries next, his Lalita sniffing in Dipper's direction. It is a surprisingly astute attempt. Early in the morning, in the privacy of the landing. "Hey dog," Soos wobbles on the ladder, replacing the junk lightbulb again, "Lita and I can't help but notice y'all aren't usually so-" He gestures claws, "Pointy."
"Oh, you know," Sidra is a grey-coloured mongoose, quick as a flash, and draped over Dipper's lap, "Just trying something new out," Deflecting, she turns into a russet fox, ears twitching and Dipper starts slightly.
Soos exchanges a look with his dæmon, and her nose twitches. "Alright," Lalita allows, nibbling Soos' ear. Despite that, Dipper tucks his legs closer, burying his face in his book.
Even, Stan tries to broach the subject, but as always Merys ruins everything:
"So, heard you got possessed or something?" She starts, and flashing into a wildcat, Sidra snarls at her. "Woah, check the attitude kid," Merys startles back up Stan's arm, winding around it, and curling over his shoulder.
"I don't want to talk about it," Dipper snaps, grabbing his journal, and stomping up to the attic. Sidra trails afterwards, ears laid flat, and brushy tail swishing the ground as she takes the stairs.
It is Mabel and Sylva who won't take no for an answer, "Hey Dipper," She hovers by his bedside, her dæmon a rainbow lorikeet on her shoulder, "Is this like- a forever thing?"
"Forever?" Sidra peers out from under the bed, features set in the long jaw of a coywolf. Mabel blinks, looking down at Sidra briefly, eyebrows furrowing.
"Mabel," Dipper clicks his blacklight off. "What thing?"
"Oh, you know," Mabel mumbles, "The scary looking thing you and Sidra are doing."
He stares down at the journal, "Dunno. Maybe I'm just settling."
"I'm serious," Mabel insists, voice wobbling. Sylva bundles into her arms as a small rabbit, "I want you to settle too, but- not because of some stupid triangle."
"Bill?" Dipper closes his book sharply. "Who said this was about Bill?"
"Blork!" Sylva squawks, which is weird since he's still a rabbit, and Mabel flaps one arm.
"Of course it's Bill!" Mabel whines, dropping onto his bed, and Dipper quickly moves the journal away from her face. The next part is muffled into his sheets, and Dipper scoots back on the bed.
"You know I can't understand you like this," Dipper insists, and Sidra clambers out from under the bed, hopping onto it and curling up on Dipper. He can hear his dæmon whining, and Mabel stares up at him with an unbearable expression, "Mabel..."
Between dealing with an oversized, snuffly dæmon and his equally tearful sister, Dipper sighs. Pulling Sidra up, Dipper moves forward to poke Mabel's face uncertainly.
"She wasn't there, in the mindscape," Dipper explains. "Sidra," Mabel's eyes go wide, fearful, "I made a mistake, and I almost lost her," Besides him, Sidra gives a definite whimper.
"Wasn't there?" Mabel repeats, loud with panic. "What do you mean? Like she was invisible? In your head?"
"No, just-" Sidra is getting hideously loud, starting to yip plaintively, "It's not like when we went into Stan's mind; I mean, she was just gone."
"Dipper," Mabel scrambles against Dipper, clinging to him. His dæmon is yowling helpfully, still pressing into him, and his sister is trying to hug the sadness - as well as air - out of him. He can see Sylva huddling under Mabel's sweater, and tries to avoid the lump as he disentangles them.
"Mabel," He coughs, and she pulls back, punching his arm a little harder than is perhaps fair.
"Why didn't you say anything! That's awful!"
"I guess, because it's not a big deal, and-" Rubbing his arm, Dipper quickly grabs Sidra's muzzle, and closes her mouth. Her howling cuts off with a clip of teeth.
"Dipper!" Mabel swats him, Sylva poking up under Mabel's collar, "She's upset! Can't you see that!"
Guiltily, he loosens his hold on his dæmon, and Sidra crawls off into the corner of the bed. Across from him, Mabel has slapped her hands over her mouth, looking at him with watery eyes again. Her dæmon shows none of Mabel's thin restraint, getting his paws out from inside Mabel's sweater.
"Are you severed?" Sylva mumbles, the words spilling out worriedly.
"We're not severed," Dipper protests in alarm, "It's just-" He looks at Sidra, and nervously spins a circle with his hands, "Different."
"I can go far away," Sidra says slowly.
"Separated?" Sylva asks, nose twitching. "Like a witch?"
"We're a little severed," Dipper folds his arms over his chest. "It's not a big deal," Despite his attempt to reassure Mabel, she throws herself at him again. This time, Sylva worms out of her sweater, and leaps onto Sidra protectively. The entire bed is taken up with two squirming coywolves, and Mabel drags Dipper off the bed so she can hug him properly.
For the next few weeks, whatever jagged, ill-fitting form Sidra takes, Sylva copies it. The squirrel doesn't come back, but neither does the wildcat, and Sidra looks less dragged through a hedge, and sleeker again. Gently, Sylva returns to brightly-coloured birds, and Sidra follows suit.
Sidra is a small hobby hawk, when the Northwest curse is lifted, and Pacifica's Vivain settles into a sharp-nosed arctic fox. Sylva is a pretty red deer when Fiddleford's Lethe flickers into a rough, but familiar african crow.
When Ford comes through the portal, Sidra is an elegant looking mongoose, and it is Sidra that pries the snarling wolverine off Merys. Immediately, the dæmon flicks Sidra onto her back, and she flails, twisting through forms. The wolverine stops, looking down at Sidra with confusion, before looking back at Ford.
"Stan," Ford looks at his brother, "You didn't tell me there were children down here." The wolverine lets go of Sidra, who darts back to Dipper nervously, coywolf tail tucked between her legs.
"What the heck," Stan rubs his jaw, still smarting from the punch, "Where's Charys?"
Ford scoffs, scooping the wolverine dæmon into his arms, "This is Charys."
"That's not Charys," Merys is curled up under Stan's shirt collar, "Charys is an albatross.." Stan strokes her head, and Merys bares her teeth at the wolverine.
"Things change, Stanley."
Immediately, Dipper, Mabel and both their dæmons stare at Stan, "Stanley?"
"You said your name was Stanford," Mabel accuses.
Ford stops, his dæmon sniffing his face, and they both turn to look at Stan and Merys, with a venomous expression, "You took our name?" The dæmon accuses. The introduction does not get better from there.
"You look like dad," Ford laughs at the thought, raising an eyebrow at his brother in the mirror.
"Eugh," Stan waves him away, "Don't say that," Despite that, he laughs for a moment, before coming to an awkward stop. "She's a weasel," Stan says slowly, lifting his hat and revealing Merys curled up under his fez. "I don't think you got a good look at her before," He looks at Ford in the mirror, and then at Charys settled around Ford's shoulders. "Your old look suited you better, Charys."
Charys sighs, pressing against Ford's cheek, "Okay," She starts flatly, "Stanley, here's the deal. You two can stay here for the summer to watch the kids. We'll stay down in the basement."
"Try to contain any remaining damage," Ford rolls his eyes. "But when the summer's over, you give us our house back, you give me my name back, and this-" His eyes roll again, tossing a hand up dismissively, "Mystery Shack junk is over forever."
"You got that?" Charys' gaze meets Merys' at last, but Stan lowers his hat back over her.
"You really aren't gonna thank us, are you?" Stan asks, before his face hardens. Turns unexpectedly protective, "Fine, on one condition," He jabs a finger at Charys and Ford, "You stay away from the kids. I don't want them in danger," Something in Stan's voice creaks, and Charys presses closer to Ford, "Because as far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left."
Stan leaves then, and Charys noses under Ford's jawline, "Ford..."
"He has a point, Charys," Ford scratches the wolverine's head, sighing, "With the portal still active, there's no telling what Bill will do."
"He doesn't get to claim Shermy's kids for himself. He's always been so selfish," She huffs, turning about on his shoulder and looking away from him. "He expects us to thank them."
Despite the thin mood of his dæmon, Ford gives a thin smile, "It was good to see them again," Charys gives a rough sneer, and Ford rolls his eyes affectionately. "You don't fool me, old girl."
It's only polite, but after the strangest - best - worst game of DD&MD that Dipper has ever played, he falls back to talk to Grenda. "Is Arrul settled?" He asks, fairly sure of the answer.
Grenda immediately beams at him, her dæmon tosses his head, tail flicking, "He is!" She blurts out, "It happened last week! Thanks for noticing, Dipper!"
"That's great, horses are cool," Dipper gives her a thumbs up, "Hey congratulations," With that he hurries ahead again, gives his sister a pat on the back, and rejoins Grunkle Ford. "Sorry about that, just that Arrul - he's Grenda's dæmon - well he just-"
"That young lady settled recently," Charys says warmly, trotting next to Ford, "Ah, to be young and settling for the first time."
"First time?" Sidra's right ear flicks back, and she looks at Dipper. "You can settle more than once."
"I don't recommend it the second time," Ford says airily. "But after that it gets easier. I happen to like her current form, but it's not permanent. Probably."
"It's very strong," Charys says with an odd abstraction, "But not too big to carry. Just right, really."
Dipper looks at Ford, eyebrows furrowed, before letting Sidra jump into his arms, "Was she an albatross?" He looks nervously up at his Grunkle, "I mean back before- um-"
"Before she unsettled," Ford finishes easily, "Yes, I think she might have been. To tell you the truth, I can hardly remember."
"Hardly feels like it matters," The wolverine nods.
"Huh-" Dipper mumbles, feeling Sidra shift in his arms, fur bristling as she changes from fox to mongoose. He's taken off-guard, and almost drops her, barely fumbling, "I guess I always figured settling meant- like forever."
Charys and Ford both laugh, before Charys grins at Dipper, "It doesn't have to be."
"Isn't it... like a bit weird?" Sidra asks, and Dipper shushes her quietly.
"Is there something wrong with a little weird?" Charys asks, apparently not offended.
Dipper considers this for a moment, before smiling sheepishly, "Actually, it's kinda awesome."
Mabel lays on her back, one hand curled over her stomach, "Ugh," She groans, "Too much junk food..." She mumbles, pressed against her side as a deer, Sylva gives a whine. However, when Dipper and Sidra stumble in, looking lost in thought, Sylva looks up immediately. "Oh hey, bro bro," Mabel lifts an arm, and it drops back on the bed.
"Something the matter?" Sylva wobbles to his feet, and Mabel sits up with an exaggerated huff.
"Oh," Sidra startles, midway through ducking under Dipper's bed, "No, nah." She scuttles under the bed, falling quiet.
Dipper hops up onto his bed, "How about you two?" Sylva immediately droops, shape collapsing into a dormouse. "Oh no," He sets the second journal on the side, "Is it Grenda?"
"And Candy, and Pacifica," Mabel sighs, tugging at her hair, "Even Old Man McGucket settled before me!" She pulls a strand of hair into her mouth, chewing at it moodily. "And Grenda has a boyfriend."
"Hey," Dipper shrugs, "I haven't settled either, and I definitely don't have a boyfriend."
"Haha," Mabel flops back over onto her bed, "I guess that's true," She curls her arms over her stomach, "I dunno, I'm starting to feel left behind, or something..." Shaking it off, she waves her hands overhead, sweater sleeves waggling with the movement, "Blargh! This is stupid!"
"Not arguing there," Dipper pulls his jacket off, and then sighs, getting off his bed and standing by Mabel, arms crossed over his chest. "You really are stressing about this."
"Yes!" Mabel's arms flops back over the edge of her bed, Sylva peeking out the top of her sweater. "I just wanna settle already- oh no!" She jolts to her feet, grabbing Dipper by the shoulders, "Dipper! What if we get back to school, and we're the only people who aren't settled!"
"Well, is that so bad?" Dipper wriggles out of Mabel's grip, one eyebrow raised.
"Yes!" Sylva squawks, puffing up with bright blue and gold feathers, macaw voice pitching all over the place.
"Is it?" He asks again, "I mean, Uncle Ford isn't settled either. He's pretty cool," As Mabel sits up on the bed, Dipper sits down next to her, "And I've been thinking, what if you settled as something you didn't like? I mean, isn't it better like this. Where you can still change."
Mabel scuffs her feet against the bed, "I dunno. Maybe."
"You know what," Dipper gives her a soft jab in the arm, "I bet if we were the last kids to settle, everybody would be so jealous."
"That's stupid," Mabel protests, shoving Dipper playfully, "You're so weird."
"Not as weird as you are," Dipper insists, and Sylva flaps awkwardly, landing in front of the bed and peering under it for Sidra.
Ford grabs Dipper by the scruff of his jacket, and immediately, Sidra snarls, snapping into a coywolf shape and lunging for Ford's stomach. In a flash, Charys tackles into Sidra, knocking her to the floor and closing her teeth on the dæmon's throat. Charys begins dragging Sidra away from Dipper, and Ford startles, almost dropping Dipper, "Charys, no-!"
"Let go of me," Dipper shouts, continuing to throw punches in Ford's direction.
Ford turns away from their flailing dæmons. He falters for a moment, before adjusting his glasses, "Calm down, Dipper," The light stops reflecting off Ford's glasses, "It's me, Dipper, it's your uncle. Look at my eyes - look at my pupils."
"Great Uncle Ford," Dipper stops thrashing, "Is that you?"
"It's me, Dipper," Ford repeats, smiling, "It's me." Slowly he lowers Dipper back to the ground, and Charys lets go of Sidra's throat.
Panting, Dipper reaches for Sidra, bundling her into his arms awkwardly, "...I tried to erase your mind," He looks down at the ground, before looking back up at Ford. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Dipper," Charys says reassuringly, "Besides, our mind can't be erased anyway, remember?" In demonstration, Ford taps the metal plate twice. Sidra flickers into the long-abandoned wildcat, as Dipper rights the stool and sits down on it heavily.
"If that really was Bill though," Ford continues, "You would have done great."
"We should have been more like you, and Sidra, when we were young," Charys admits, before looking at Ford with a guarded look. "Dipper, Sidra, we were foolish to try and hide something like this."
Here, Ford gently kneels down to look Dipper in the eye, and sets a hand on his shoulder. Dipper blinks at the reassuring gesture, "Uncle Ford?"
"The reason Charys and I have been trying to prepare you for Bill's tricks, is because Bill tricked us," Ford sighs, "It's the biggest regret of my life."
"Bill wasn't always our enemy, Sidra," Charys sniffs Sidra, licking her fur slightly. It's an oddly protective gesture, and Dipper isn't sure what to make of it.
Ford admits, with no little embarrassment, "We used to think he was our friend, long long ago..." With that, Ford falls quiet, and Charys explains how Bill flattered them. How they worked on the portal together. How Bill was given permission to enter Ford's mind as he pleased. What the rift will mean if it falls into Bill Cipher's hands.
"Oh man," Dipper mumbles, digging his fingers into Sidra's fur.
Here Ford speaks up again, "Oh man, indeed." Once again, he pats Dipper on the shoulder, as if fumbling for something. "I think I could use a soda. How about you?" He stands up, giving Dipper some space. Dipper gives a faltering smile, gathers Sidra up, and they head upstairs.
Sitting at the table, Ford cracks open two cans, and pushes one towards Dipper, who immediately presses his head against it, "Ugh, I'm so embarrassed about earlier," Dipper groans, "I'm such an idiot."
"We're not the first two idiots to be tricked by Bill, but if we work together," Ford flicks Dipper's hat, and both he and Sidra look up, "We could be the last."
"From now on," Charys hops from Ford's shoulder to the table, sitting down neatly, "No more secrets between us." Again, the dæmon gives Ford a guarded look, before sniffing Sidra all over. In Dipper's arms, she fluffs up, tail looking like a duster.
"Dipper," Ford says very slowly, "With your permission, I would like to examine Sidra."
"Sidra?" Dipper looks down at the bristled wildcat tucked under his arms.
"Charys attempted to immobilize you two by stretching your bond," Here Ford looks across at his dæmon, who scuffs her paw apologetically. "For that I am sorry, but, are you two formally separated?"
"Well," Dipper winds his fingers in Sidra's fur, "No." Charys has leaned close enough to sniff Sidra, and she bristles at the contact, "After Bill tricked me-" Ford nods, and Dipper gives a long sigh, "Possessed me, we could just do that. Like you two."
Charys shakes her head, "We learnt how to separate after falling through the portal."
"What-" Dipper pulls Sidra closer, and almost yelps when she shifts into a coywolf in his arms. Knocking the pitt cola over, Dipper settles his dæmon on his lap clumsily, "What are you saying?"
"She shouldn't catch you by surprise like that," Ford rights the knocked over can, and strokes Charys' ruff in thought. "Charys and I specifically agreed to possession, whereas you say you two were manipulated?"
"He said he wanted a puppet," Dipper pulls Sidra up slightly, and Ford leans away from them. Dipper's eyebrows lower. "What?"
"Most likely, you two have been at least partially severed," Ford explains with a slowness Dipper realizes is sympathy. He frowns at his great uncle. "I'm sorry, Dipper."
Charys steps around the pool of pitt cola, sniffing at Dipper and Sidra. Again, she rather clumsily licks Sidra's nose. The coywolf sneezes, ears laying back, "Will you quit that?" She snarls.
Ford seems taken aback, and Charys thumps back, sitting in the puddle of peach soda. "I'm sorry, Dipper, Sidra, I'm not sure what to say to you," Ford says. Slowly, the wolverine sits up, shaking the drink off with a flick of her tail. "You are very young, and severing is particularly...with children," Ford sucks his breath in through his teeth, "A long time ago-"
"I know, I know," Dipper rolls his eyes, "The Church decided to sever all these children at the Bolvanger Facility, and it was this huge deal and- But this isn't a huge deal, so-" Sidra is giving off a low whine again, and irritated, Dipper covers her mouth, "Not now."
"Dipper," Ford carefully moves Dipper's hand away, mindful not to touch Sidra. "No."
Silent, Dipper looks down at the whimpering dæmon in his arms, not sure how to react, and Ford's expression crumples with anger, "I'm sorry?" He mumbles.
"What I'd do to Bill for this," Ford's hand curls into a shaking fist. Forcibly, he uncurls it, and looks at Dipper with a milder look. It's still the worst conversation of Dipper's life, and he can feel it showing on his face. "The damage will need to be assessed, but I think it's safe to say it's not a complete severing. You have several options."
"It may even be possible we could repair the damage," Charys delicately steps onto Ford's shoulders again, walking neatly across the bridge of them. As she moves, Ford shifts to balance her, and Dipper is immediately self-conscious of how clumsily he's holding Sidra. "Perhaps with appropriate manipulation of Rusakov Particles..." She looks at Ford.
"It may be possible," Ford reaches up to brush Charys' fur. He smiles at Dipper uneasily, "You, and Sidra have been extraordinary. You should be proud of what you've done. I am sorry that this has happened."
Dipper's grip on Sidra loosens, and he tries to smile at Ford gingerly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It is at this moment that Mabel shrieks, "Did somebody say unicorn hair!" A fairly small goat springs onto the table, sending Ford's drink flying, and begins licking at the pool of pitt cola.
"Uh-" Dipper looks between Mabel and her dæmon, "No actually."
"Oh," Mabel deflates slightly, but her grin is still intense, "That would have been perfect."
They're getting ready for bed, when Dipper finally decides to ask about it, "So... Sylva is a little...different." His sister's dæmon hasn't changed shape from the small, pepper black, white grey goat he came back as. It's not only a shape Dipper has never really seen before, but it's also the longest she's kept a single form.
"Haha- Schyeah," Mabel tugs her pillow away from her dæmon, who is chewing it decidedly.
Dipper pulls Sidra onto his lap, scratching at the corner of her ear. She's a slightly mussed grey fox, and he briefly nuzzles her. It feels weird, awkward even, and he looks at Mabel instead, "Different- like forever?" He asks uncertainly.
"I think so," Mabel headbutts Sylva's horns, and wheels back with a laugh. She looks at Dipper dizzily, but worried, excitement fading, "Is it different bad?"
"No, no," Dipper slides off the bed messily, tugging Sidra after him. He jumps up onto Mabel's bed, grinning, "He's awesome. He's-" Sidra flops out of Dipper's arms, flickering between forms as she and Sylva roll into a ball, "What is he?" Dipper laughs, peering at Sylva, "Some kinda goat?"
"Some kinda goat," Mabel smiles. "I dunno-"
"We can go to the library tomorrow," Dipper gushes, as their dæmons butt heads. Sidra flops over, with a messy laugh. "We can find out exactly what Sylva is, what kind of historical figures have had dæmons like yours, if there are any legends about-"
"Woah, woah, woah," Mabel waves her hands, "Slow down, bro bro," She shrugs, "It doesn't really matter."
"You settled, and it doesn't matter?" He laughs with disbelief, "We've only been waiting for this our whole lives, Mabel!" Dipper shoves her arm slightly. "Come on. I thought you couldn't wait to settle. Aren't you a little curious about who you are?"
She shrugs again, tugging at Sylva horns, "I dunno- I think I gotta figure that out myself," Her dæmon stumbles into her lap, and she wraps her arms around him tightly.
"I could be cuter," Sylva looks up at Mabel, and they headbutt again. "I have a beard now."
"He's not very cute-" Mabel agrees, pulling a face, "But I dunno. I think it'll grow on us," She scruffs Sylva's ears thoughtfully, "I kinda," She grins nervously, "I dunno, Dipper. Can we not make a big deal out of this?"
"Huh?" Dipper scoops Sidra up, "I mean, of course, but-" He looks to the side, and then at Mabel cautiously. "You guys are okay, right?"
"Psh," Sylva waves a cloven hoof, "Of course. It's just a little weird."
Dipper nods, his hold tightening on Sidra again, "Okay," He smiles reassuringly, "For the record, a little weird is awesome."
"Ford," Stanley has his arms crossed over his chest, dæmon hidden away under his hat, "We need to talk about the kids." He can see his brother's dæmon bristle, looking away pointedly. "I just- I know I said you guys could hang out, but-" He waves a hand awkwardly, "Look, you gave Mabel a crossbow."
"For her own protection," Charys snarls.
"A crossbow," Stan repeats, "I've done some pretty irresponsible things, trust me, but- Ford, they aren't your kids."
"Fine," Ford waves a hand, snapping his third journal shut. "No more weapons. Does a magnet gun count as a weapon?"
"A what?" Merys chirps under Stan's hat, eventually outright bowling it over. "Look, you two need to be more careful, especially with Dipper and Sidra."
"Dipper and Sidra," Charys and Ford repeat.
"Yeah," Merys winds onto Stan's shoulder, fur cragging, "They're impressionable. In case you haven't noticed it, the kid worships the ground you two walk on."
Ford tucks the journal into his coat, and Charys darts up Ford's side, stomping to the edge of Ford's shoulder and glowering at Merys, "You think we don't know that?"
"You sure don't act like it," Merys counters viciously, and curls back around Stan's neck, where he immediately cups a hand around her.
"I don't want them getting hurt," Stan squares his footing. Once, he might have intimidated Ford, but this Ford is different, changed. He wears it on his sleeve - a snarling wolverine, instead of the familiar albatross.
"Hurt?" Charys repeats incredulously, "The boy is severed," She bristles, tensing to spring, and Ford has to physically grab her by the scruff. Still furious, the dæmon bares her teeth, "That's what happens under your care, and you don't even notice."
"Severed?" Stan scoffs, but Ford's expression is seething, almost as bad as his dæmon's. "You're not kidding." He seems unsure what to make of Ford's opinion, before glaring at him anyway. "Well, what about Mabel?"
"Mabel?" Ford asks blankly.
"She settled," Stan says, astounded, "And you didn't even congratulate her."
"We might have had more important things on our mind," Ford defends, releasing Charys who lands on the ground, and tucks between Ford's legs. "Fine. We'll congratulate her tomorrow."
"More important things?" Merys echoes, hurt.
"I didn't mean it like-" But Merys has already scurried under Stan's hat, not even leaving her tail exposed. "I didn't mean it like that, Stan," Ford rolls his eyes, "I've just had a lot to deal with."
"Yeah," Stan mutters, "Got it, Poindexter."
"Dipper, can you honestly tell me, you never felt like you were meant for something more?" Dipper looks at Ford in the reflective, extra-terrestrial glass. The way Charys sits proudly on his shoulders, eyes bright, and a rugged ferocity in her gleaming teeth.
"I-" And then at himself, with Sidra - a slightly ragged looking coywolf pressed awkwardly against his side, "I don't know."
"It sounds like a dream come true," Sidra mumbles, "But..."
"I'm not sure I have what it takes," Dipper continues. "I was tricked by Bill."
"We were wrong about Stan's portal," She mumbles, pressing even closer to Dipper who only shies away from her, and in the reflection Ford frowns. Voice shaking, Sidra almost collapses into his side, but he doesn't move, "Dipper and I don't fit together anymore."
It's the first time either of them has admitted it, but it's true. There is an awkwardness, and a sickening sense of dread, like going down the stairs at night and expecting the last step, but only feeling nothing instead. Dipper looks down at the floor, and Sidra finally moves away from him.
Charys pauses, looking at Ford for a moment, before hopping down and nudging her head against Dipper's side. It's not as if it's that strange between family, but Charys is so guarded that Dipper jolts, "I was an Atlantic Yellow-Nosed Albatross," She says quietly. "But the first dimension we travelled to, I didn't have a body."
"Then-" Sidra's coywolf flickers, but there is no answering shape to fill the gulf.
"We shared mine," Ford kneels down, reaching out to rubs his dæmon's ears. "I've learnt to appreciate having Charys, no matter what she looks like, where she is, or how far away she feels."
"That's-" Dipper's voice catches, "I can't imagine."
"Can't you?" Ford asks, scratching Charys' head slowly.
"We see a lot of ourselves in you," Charys murmurs, settling into Ford's fingertips. "You and Sidra are truly extraordinary."
"But, your apprentice-" Dipper rubs his arm, frowning, "I can't even operate this magnet gun right-" There is a loud crunch, as the gun activates. Grunting, Dipper tries to pry the plate away from the muzzle of the magnet gun, when Ford lights up.
"You've found the adhesive!" He congratulates brightly, "You really did it kid," Ford gestures for Sidra to join them, Charys leaping up onto Ford's shoulder, "Huddle in everyone, let's get a picture of this."
Sidra, however, has gone still, staring into the darkness, "Uncle Ford, you said everything down here was dead?" She mumbles, still not moving, as her eyes are bathed in the reflective gleam of the security droids.
"Bill!" Mabel jolts awake, immediately clutching for Sylva. Her anger vanishes, dissolving into the thick choke of panic, "Sylva," She turns round in the white space, looking each way frantically, "Sylva!" Mabel curls her arms around herself, when she hears laughter - familiar, obnoxious - cluttering behind her.
"Shooting Star," Bill snaps into the white space with a loud crack, jet-black against the white, "You really are as gullible as you look," He gives another cackle, arms pressing at his front, turning golden, "REALLY. What kind of moron believes in a time bubb- woah woah woah!"
She lunges for him with a yell, scrabbling in the mindspace, and Bill catches her with a snap of his fingers. "Put me down, you- you- you square!" Mabel yells.
"RUDE." Bill's voice flattens, crackling as he drops her. The white floor under her gives a glass-like sound when she hits it.
Wincing, Mabel sits up, looking down at the prism-coloured fracture lines under her, "Wh-Where is this?"
The glass shatters, and before she can crash into the tarmac in front of the highschool, Bill grabs her with another blue-lit click of his fingers. "You like it?" He waves her around a little carelessly, and she can see a bright blur of Gravity Falls. It's almost unusually bright, and her stomach swims, "Happy Birthday!"
"Bill!" Mabel squeaks, covering her eyes until the world stops spinning, and Bill is snickering again. "Stop it, you stupid pyramid!"
"Do you like it?" Bill rolls an eye, "It's a little early, but for you - Shooting Star - ANYTHING."
He drops her again, replacing her sweater with the shooting star one, and she grabs at her sleeves. "Ew!"
"Yeesh, what a prude," Bill's cane grows out of his fingertips, spinning, "So, BIRTHDAY GIRL," He slides round her, and gestures out at the world. "Since you're TOO STUPID to know a time bubble isn't real, here's the next best thing." He leans close, before waving his arms dramatically, "Surprise! None of it's real!"
"What have you done to my brother!" She points at him defiantly, determined not to be unnerved.
"Nothing -- yet!" The triangle breaks apart, reforming right under Mabel's nose and she yelps, throwing Bill into another chorus of laughter. "I think the real question is," Bill's arm pokes at the middle of her back, pushing her towards him, "What have you done to your brother?"
"I-" She falters.
"When I'm through with your brother," Bill continues, "He'll make a cool, refreshing drink of liquified fleshmeat," He chuckles, tipping his hat at her, "All thanks to YOU."
"Orrrr," Bill replaces his hat, settling it, and letting his cane drift off in the over-saturated landscape of Gravity Falls.
"Or?" Mabel clutches at her sweater's sleeves, "What's or! I pick option or!"
"Or you can stay here," Bill gestures all around them, "In an endless summer for all time. Give or take," He coughs the last part out, adjusting his bowtie, before waving a hand dismissively, "Feel free to redecorate. I can only imagine what you've got in store! I should take notes!"
Hesitant, Mabel fidgeted, "And Dipper will be safe?"
Bill holds out a fiery hand, "I won't touch one hair on his oversized head."
With a steely look, Mabel reaches out, and then, quickly slaps Bill's hand away, "You're lying," She snaps, pointing at him, and Bill held both hands up defensively, "You'll probably have- like- a rock fall on his head! And then you'd say, oh I didn't actually touch him," She shakes her head firmly, glowering at him "You can forget it."
Bill Cipher rolls his eye again, "Is that your impression of me?" He asks flatly, crossing his arms, "It's terrible."
"You're terrible!"
"Ooh," He throws his hands up again, "You sure got me pegged!" Shrinking down, he leans towards her, eye narrowed, "Listen up, maggot," Bill points out at the world around them, "One fantasy world for you to turn into a Lisa Frank stickerbook. Hey, I'll even throw your dæmon in for free."
He snaps his fingers, and at Mabel's side, a nara deer is nibbling at her elbow.
"This-" Mabel falters, "This isn't my dæmon."
"Oh that's right," Bill stares at her, "This is better than the ugly thing you call your soul," He circles her, leaving after-images in black, like oil slicks in the air, "I mean, a goat, is that really who you thought you'd be when you grew up?"
"I-" The deer is still nuzzling her sweater. "Dipper likes it-"
"Is THAT why he doesn't want to be around you anymore?" Bill laughs, voice burning in the air. "Oh that's too good! That's great! You really ARE gullible!"
"It's not like that," Mabel mumbles. "Dipper loves us. It's just- this is a huge opportunity for him..."
"It seems to me," Bill opines, pressing a sharp edge into her side, and the dæmon chewing on her sleeve becomes almost vicious, "That the two of you only really care about yourselves."
"That's not true- Dipper would do anything for me."
"True!" Bill says brightly, "But all that is ending real soon. I guess he's getting tired of you holding him back. Who could BLAME him. He'd probably die for you, but in WHAT WORLD would you do the same for him?"
"This one?" Mabel guesses, trying to veer away from Bill, but feeling the deer's teeth close on her arm. "Ow!"
Bill chuckles, "I like you kid. You make ME look like a swell guy." His edges gleam, "The selfishness, oh man, have I EVER got that covered, but the dishonesty!" Bill's sharp corner pinches at the skin of her face, as he watches her even more closely, "I guess when you settled, everybody just got a GOOD LOOK at what you're really MADE of."
His eye narrows, "And guess what? Dipper decided he wanted out."
"Besides," Bill's hand glitters, burns, shines like a beacon, "Thanks to you, your WORLD is ending real soon. And with me out there, what good could someone as bad as you even do?" He holds his hand out towards her, fire licking at his fingertips, "So, how about making the best of your bad situation?" The dæmon is biting on Mabel's arm, digging in painfully, "A chance to do-over - your way! A brother who isn't sick of you? A soul you always wanted?" Bill leaned even closer, crowding Mabel with fire, "How about a HUGE OPPORTUNITY for Shooting Star?"
"D-Dipper will be safe?" She stammers, already reaching for Bill's hand.
"Who knows!" He cackles airily, "I won't hurt him, sure!"
Her hand closes on his a little weakly, but Bill's grip is like having the air sucked out of your chest. She almost staggers, and instead Bill yanks her off the ground.
"And a round of applause for the Birthday Girl," Bill Cipher laughs, fracturing into shards, and dropping Mabel with a crunch, "Now let's REALLY SEE what your sick little mind can come up with!"
Mabel clutches to Sylva, entire body almost wrapped around her dæmon. Breathing heavily, she nuzzles the goat desperately, before looking up at her brother, eyes bright, "Hey, Dipper-" She mumbles shakily, picking Sylva up, continuing to hug her dæmon to her chest, "I-" She bites her lip, "I appreciate what you said back there, but if you want to take Ford's apprenticeship, I won't get in your way."
"Psh," Sidra peers out from under Dipper's hat, "Miss out on your awkward teen years? You wish."
Dipper laughs, and Sidra clambers down from her place on Dipper's head, soft fur pressing against Dipper's neck. Curious, Dipper peers at his dæmon, "That's... different. Chinchilla, huh?"
"That is different," Sylva moves in Mabel's arms trying to get a better look.
Mabel adjusts her hold on Sylva, and they peer at Sidra together. Her fur is a silky, silvery colour - not a hint of sandy-gold in sight - and gone is the jagged look. Sylva and Mabel look at Dipper nervously, "Is it different- forever?"
Sidra and Dipper laugh again, "I guess? Maybe?" His tone shifts, fingers stroking Sidra's fur, "Yes, definitely."
"Absolutely," Sidra curls her tail around Dipper's neck. Her face presses against Dipper shyly, but Mabel's eyes have lit up, staring at her brother proudly.
"She's amazing," Mabel nestles her face against Sylva's neck, "Haha, I missed beard tickles!" She pulls back to beam at Dipper, "You're- not disappointed are you?" Her smiles softens, "You guys really are amazing."
"It's a little weird," Dipper is still confused at how soft Sidra's fur is, "It's like stroking a cloud-" Sidra hops into his hands, and he lifts her to his head, where she balances delicately on his hat. "Wow- you're really good at that."
"Yes, I am," She preens her ears, and Dipper raises an eyebrow.
"I like a little weird," Mabel giggles, as Sylva starts nibbling on her hair. "So, what now?"
"I guess we beat Bill," Dipper shrugs, grinning crookedly, "And then we grow up, together."
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