stanford-of-a-deadman

[stanford-of-a-deadman]

[A humming noise played through the recording.] Stanford: "The cave with the murals of Bill? I've tried going there but my Stanley blocks the path. He refuses to let me in there." Stanley: ". . ." Stanford: "But Stan, are you sure he's really a con-man like you stated? With " Stanley: ". . ." [Stanford sighed, mumbling about how Bill might be able to help.] Stanford: "Since Stan won't allow me into that cave, I won't try and summon him. It might be my last resort, but with Stan and your warnings, I'm assuming Bill is a danger to humanity. So, I promise." Stanley: ". . ." Stanford: "Wait... How do you know about Fiddleford?" Stanley: ". . ." Stanford: "...I should have known. Well, I might be able to get help from my old college pal, Fiddleford, to try and fix the copier. Then again, he has a wife and kid to tend to, last I heard... I'll wait for anymore information. Thank you for your time." Stanley: ". . ." Stanford: "...Stanley, I don't know either."

[Audio crackles to life, the sound of buzzing playing from the tape. A familiar voice is heard.] Voice 1: “He- Hello? Is this working?”

[Something of plastic falls to the ground, the sound of paper rustling fills the air.] Voice 1: “Greetings! My name is Stanford Pines of dimension… 4N631, speaking from Gravity Falls, Oregon. I’m reaching out to the other Ford of the multiverse to assist me in something I cannot solve. “

[Something crashes in the background, with Stanford muttering a swear. He seems to say something, but the audio glitches just for a second.] Stanford: “ʞ̸ʍ̶ʍ̶ɹ̵ƃ̸ƃ̵S̵ ! I’m recording the message!” Voice 2:   “ .    .    . “

Stanford: “Try not to do that, please?”

[A loud static played as the second voice responded.] Stanford: “Thank you.” [Stanford cleared his throat, muttering something.] Stanford: “Pardon me. Er, as I was saying, I am reaching out to other Fords in search of help or answers. I need assistance with trying to… create a physical body for a ghost I know. His original body has long burnt and rotted according to him, and is unsalvageable. The location of the body is currently unknown as well.” [Stanford sighed, though it seemed heavy, as if this was.. hard to talk about.]

Stanford: “I’ve… tried to create a clone or a replica with the few DNA samples I have of him, but it… never worked. I hate to admit it, but… I’m running out of ideas and options. Please. If there’s any Fords out there who are willing to help or have a solution…

[Stanford sighed yet again, unsure of what to do.]

Stanford: …I miss him.

[The audio seemed to suddenly cut, signalling the end of the audio.]

Stanford Pines of dimension 46'\.

He speaks with the same cadence as any other Ford who managed to survive all those years, but with the voice of a squeaky toy. He remembers this and clears his throat.

Not a child, for the record, it is complicated. No time to explain. I don't know what happened to you, or where you are at this particular moment, but..

He lets out an uneasy noise, comparable to that of a child. Shocking.

I think I know what you did.

The creak of a chair against wood is heard, then footsteps. Rhythmic, steady ones that paused with a scrape or a squeak every few seconds as he turned around.

I can call in some favors. I've been outside of my dimension, seen a lot of things.. if you are comfortable with describing more of the situation, how long he's been dead and such, I can.. try. To help.

[stanford-of-a-deadman]

[Stanford was heard to walk across whatever room he was in, grabbing something before returning.] Stanford: "Well, I did visit the gnome tavern once, but that was before.. Stan's spirit visited me. My few books on necromancy were painfully water damaged, and only a few pages were salvageable. I do have the curse photocopier, although it doesn't work since.. I might have overused it once to study it and it kinda... broke." [Stanford sighed, adjusting his glasses.] Stanford: "I haven't thought of using my own DNA in a cloning process, though. Since the photocopier is out of the picture, I had tried to make my own cloning machine, but failed and-" Voice 2: ". . ." Stanford: "Wuh- Can it Stanley!" Stanley: ". . ." [Stanford hummed in response.] Stanford: "It seems this thing doesn't pick up on his voice.. It's to be expected, this thing isn't built for recording ghost voices.." [Stanford set something down, shoving a few papers with... rocks? Must be a collection.] Stanford: "Well, I'll wait for a response. Thank you yet again for help."

[Audio crackles to life, the sound of buzzing playing from the tape. A familiar voice is heard.] Voice 1: “He- Hello? Is this working?”

[Something of plastic falls to the ground, the sound of paper rustling fills the air.] Voice 1: “Greetings! My name is Stanford Pines of dimension… 4N631, speaking from Gravity Falls, Oregon. I’m reaching out to the other Ford of the multiverse to assist me in something I cannot solve. “

[Something crashes in the background, with Stanford muttering a swear. He seems to say something, but the audio glitches just for a second.] Stanford: “ʞ̸ʍ̶ʍ̶ɹ̵ƃ̸ƃ̵S̵ ! I’m recording the message!” Voice 2:   “ .    .    . “

Stanford: “Try not to do that, please?”

[A loud static played as the second voice responded.] Stanford: “Thank you.” [Stanford cleared his throat, muttering something.] Stanford: “Pardon me. Er, as I was saying, I am reaching out to other Fords in search of help or answers. I need assistance with trying to… create a physical body for a ghost I know. His original body has long burnt and rotted according to him, and is unsalvageable. The location of the body is currently unknown as well.” [Stanford sighed, though it seemed heavy, as if this was.. hard to talk about.]

Stanford: “I’ve… tried to create a clone or a replica with the few DNA samples I have of him, but it… never worked. I hate to admit it, but… I’m running out of ideas and options. Please. If there’s any Fords out there who are willing to help or have a solution…

[Stanford sighed yet again, unsure of what to do.]

Stanford: …I miss him.

[The audio seemed to suddenly cut, signalling the end of the audio.]

Stanford Pines of dimension 46'\.

He speaks with the same cadence as any other Ford who managed to survive all those years, but with the voice of a squeaky toy. He remembers this and clears his throat.

Not a child, for the record, it is complicated. No time to explain. I don't know what happened to you, or where you are at this particular moment, but..

He lets out an uneasy noise, comparable to that of a child. Shocking.

I think I know what you did.

The creak of a chair against wood is heard, then footsteps. Rhythmic, steady ones that paused with a scrape or a squeak every few seconds as he turned around.

I can call in some favors. I've been outside of my dimension, seen a lot of things.. if you are comfortable with describing more of the situation, how long he's been dead and such, I can.. try. To help.

[stanford-of-a-deadman]

Stanford: "Greetings, again. No, I do not need to make a vessel for him, strangely." [Something crashed in the background again, followed by a muttered swear.] Stanford: "God damn it.." [The sound of boots either running or walking farther away played, along with hushed yelling and... laughter? Who's laughing? After a minute or so of Stanford talking to someone, he returned, paper rustling.] Stanford: "Apologies about that. Anyway, like I said, I do not need to make a vessel for him since... I can see his ghost, and interact with him. He tells me that it's just because he acts like a guardian angel, like I stated before. I'm still studying the phenomenon, but he refuses to be "my lab rat", as he's calling it." [Stanford let out a small chuckle.] Stanford: Well, thank you for your time. I... I better go tell him that- [The audio glitches badly, before cutting and leaving the room in silence.]

[Equipment and machines are heard in the background of the audio, static buzzing with heavy breathing.]

Voice 1: "Surely this thing must be on, last time I used it, it had a green light here..." [The voice mumbled to himself, the sound of paper rustling, then something of metal or plastic being tinkered with.] Voice 1: “Aha! Okay.. Greetings. My name is Stanford Pines of dimension 4N631, speaking from Gravity Falls, Oregon. I’m reaching out to the other Fords of the multiverse to assist me in something I cannot... solve." [Stanford seemed to mess with a few more papers, mumbling to himself. The static drowned out his voice, making it unable to be understood.] Stanford: "My..." [Stanford sighed.] Stanford: "A.. Someone I knew passed away six years ago, and I intend to bring him back. His ghost is currently.. haunting me, but in a more guardian angel way. His body has long rotted by now, but i'm hoping to somehow bring him back. My idea of making a clone of him failed, due to not having enough DNA samples. I've also tried to coax the location of the body from him, but he refuses to speak of it. Without a location, i'm afraid I can't bring him back." [Stanford took a shaky breath, taking a few more to calm down.] Stanford: "Apologies, this topic is proving difficult to talk about strangely. My thought process here is that, since infinite dimensions exist, i'm hoping that there is ONE way to try and give him a physical form. Any help is needed. Please." [The sound of a click and something of fabric played in the audio, before it cut off.]

I have a feeling you and I were in a similar position. Maybe you could create a vessel for him? Maybe some kind of device he could use to communicate with you? From what I've observed, you would need something from the person to tether him to the vessel in order to work.

I wish you the best in your endeavours.

[stanford-of-a-deadman]

[A slight nervous chuckle is heard on the other end, before it faded away.] Stanford: That's.... concerning. No, not just concerning. Really concerning. [He cleared his throat.] Stanford: I.. did consider going full Victor Frakenstein, but as I stated before, his body is long rotted and burnt. I... I'm assuming you already know who I was talking about. [Stanford sucked in a breath, mumbling about how fate isn't kind to-] Stanford: Well, I'd love to know what other ways to bring someone from the dead. I... Thank you again, smaller sounding version of me.

[Audio crackles to life, the sound of buzzing playing from the tape. A familiar voice is heard.] Voice 1: “He- Hello? Is this working?”

[Something of plastic falls to the ground, the sound of paper rustling fills the air.] Voice 1: “Greetings! My name is Stanford Pines of dimension… 4N631, speaking from Gravity Falls, Oregon. I’m reaching out to the other Ford of the multiverse to assist me in something I cannot solve. “

[Something crashes in the background, with Stanford muttering a swear. He seems to say something, but the audio glitches just for a second.] Stanford: “ʞ̸ʍ̶ʍ̶ɹ̵ƃ̸ƃ̵S̵ ! I’m recording the message!” Voice 2:   “ .    .    . “

Stanford: “Try not to do that, please?”

[A loud static played as the second voice responded.] Stanford: “Thank you.” [Stanford cleared his throat, muttering something.] Stanford: “Pardon me. Er, as I was saying, I am reaching out to other Fords in search of help or answers. I need assistance with trying to… create a physical body for a ghost I know. His original body has long burnt and rotted according to him, and is unsalvageable. The location of the body is currently unknown as well.” [Stanford sighed, though it seemed heavy, as if this was.. hard to talk about.]

Stanford: “I’ve… tried to create a clone or a replica with the few DNA samples I have of him, but it… never worked. I hate to admit it, but… I’m running out of ideas and options. Please. If there’s any Fords out there who are willing to help or have a solution…

[Stanford sighed yet again, unsure of what to do.]

Stanford: …I miss him.

[The audio seemed to suddenly cut, signalling the end of the audio.]

Stanford Pines of dimension 46'\.

He speaks with the same cadence as any other Ford who managed to survive all those years, but with the voice of a squeaky toy. He remembers this and clears his throat.

Not a child, for the record, it is complicated. No time to explain. I don't know what happened to you, or where you are at this particular moment, but..

He lets out an uneasy noise, comparable to that of a child. Shocking.

I think I know what you did.

The creak of a chair against wood is heard, then footsteps. Rhythmic, steady ones that paused with a scrape or a squeak every few seconds as he turned around.

I can call in some favors. I've been outside of my dimension, seen a lot of things.. if you are comfortable with describing more of the situation, how long he's been dead and such, I can.. try. To help.

[stanford-of-a-deadman]

Stanford: "Oh! I... I can give some context." [He sounded nervous.] Stanford: "The... Wait. What do you mean about what I did? I didn't do anything..? Well.. No, nevermind. [The sound of boots pacing on wooden boards played on the recording, before Stanford caught himself and relaxed a bit.] Stanford: "He tells me he died around 6 years ago. I... It matches up with things that happened in the area he died in, so there's no room for doubt." [The familiar click of the recording ending was heard.] (OOC: sorry it's so short lol, i'm on 2 benadryl rn and a dash of seasonal allergies) 

[Audio crackles to life, the sound of buzzing playing from the tape. A familiar voice is heard.] Voice 1: “He- Hello? Is this working?”

[Something of plastic falls to the ground, the sound of paper rustling fills the air.] Voice 1: “Greetings! My name is Stanford Pines of dimension… 4N631, speaking from Gravity Falls, Oregon. I’m reaching out to the other Ford of the multiverse to assist me in something I cannot solve. “

[Something crashes in the background, with Stanford muttering a swear. He seems to say something, but the audio glitches just for a second.] Stanford: “ʞ̸ʍ̶ʍ̶ɹ̵ƃ̸ƃ̵S̵ ! I’m recording the message!” Voice 2:   “ .    .    . “

Stanford: “Try not to do that, please?”

[A loud static played as the second voice responded.] Stanford: “Thank you.” [Stanford cleared his throat, muttering something.] Stanford: “Pardon me. Er, as I was saying, I am reaching out to other Fords in search of help or answers. I need assistance with trying to… create a physical body for a ghost I know. His original body has long burnt and rotted according to him, and is unsalvageable. The location of the body is currently unknown as well.” [Stanford sighed, though it seemed heavy, as if this was.. hard to talk about.]

Stanford: “I’ve… tried to create a clone or a replica with the few DNA samples I have of him, but it… never worked. I hate to admit it, but… I’m running out of ideas and options. Please. If there’s any Fords out there who are willing to help or have a solution…

[Stanford sighed yet again, unsure of what to do.]

Stanford: …I miss him.

[The audio seemed to suddenly cut, signalling the end of the audio.]

Stanford Pines of dimension 46'\.

He speaks with the same cadence as any other Ford who managed to survive all those years, but with the voice of a squeaky toy. He remembers this and clears his throat.

Not a child, for the record, it is complicated. No time to explain. I don't know what happened to you, or where you are at this particular moment, but..

He lets out an uneasy noise, comparable to that of a child. Shocking.

I think I know what you did.

The creak of a chair against wood is heard, then footsteps. Rhythmic, steady ones that paused with a scrape or a squeak every few seconds as he turned around.

I can call in some favors. I've been outside of my dimension, seen a lot of things.. if you are comfortable with describing more of the situation, how long he's been dead and such, I can.. try. To help.

[stanford-of-a-deadman]

Greetings and salutations.

My name is Stanford Pines, but i'm assuming you knew that. I've heard of this strange thing called "Tumblr" and "asks". (Is it a misspelling? What are asks in this context?) My... Someone told me to use this as a way to access help from other Stanford across "Tumblr". So far, the search for help hasn't been doing well, but I am trying.

Oh! I forgot to mention why I need help. You see, someone I knew had died six years ago, and now his ghost is haunting me. (I wouldn't say haunted, more like being watched over. He's like a guardian angel, I guess.). I need help trying to resurrect him to life, but his body has long rotted and it's location is unknown. (He wouldn't tell me.)

That's most of my situation right now. Please, feel free to "ask" me anything. Any form of help would be appreciated. (OOC down here!!!)

Hello!! Oculusakaspectacles (or just oculus) here (my main blog), with my Angel's Madness AU Ford! ....I really need to update it, it's been a while since I dropped some lore. BUT! These asks will help me expand my AU and.. possibly convince me to write the fanfic for it on AO3!! Yay! Motivation!

Also, I do not have an upload schedule or something. I post whenever. That means I could go offline for a month or something i should probably link the AU where this gay- I meant guy comes from:

https://www.tumblr.com/coin-snatcher/781278318051917824/angels-madness-au?source=share Uh, THANK YOU FOR READING THIS BYE