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happyk44 · 7 months

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i started writing this in my drafts weeks ago but didn't continue much farther than the first sentence - probably put it down to do something else and then passed out lmao. anyway after scrolling past last night wanted to continue it but can't be effed to scroll through my drafts rn (i save everything to my drafts to tag and queue later and my drafts ar like over 250+ rn)

anyway percy who becomes obsessed with finding this grim reaper he saw the night his mom killed his step-dad. he was an abusive asshole and percy helped his mom stage the scene to look like someone gabe owed money to came knocking. they don't have much in terms of expensive shit - just the TV and playstation. it's an old old model that one of percy's classmates was going to throw out as he wasn't into the games he had with it anymore and was getting the latest version for christmas.

it was nice that he gave it to percy with only a fraction of the cost in hand and a promise to give him the rest over time. percy paid him off every monday. it took sally weeks to pay it off, percy chipping in by donating cans and glass bottles he found lying around. the games were old and a little childish, but it was the only entertainment percy had aside from sally's old and crappy laptop that gabe hogged with online poker games.

so it sucked to watch sally dump it into an empty trash bag. it's small, she'd said. the tv would be too big to carry out without causing suspicion, even in mind-your-business new york city, but the playstation, her shitty laptop, and gabe's cell and wallet were things that could be dumped into a bag with no one giving a second look. percy crawls out the fire-escape grateful their shitty apartment building doesn't have cameras. he has to use a couple boxes to really rise himself enough to stuff the bag under the other bags. sally walks out the front door and they go have a late dinner at a nearby cafe.

then go home an hour later and scream in surprise at gabe's dead body in the bedroom, still warm from the heater in the corner boiling up the room that sally promptly unplugs.

percy doesn't think much about WHY his mom was so specific about how to clean his blood off the kitchen floor, about how to stage the scene, about moving gabe's body into the bedroom, about pulling him like he had been then letting him fall flat. heating up the room to keep him warm and fresh, while keeping the window cracked open so the heat doesn't stay by the time the police arrive.

he writes it away as her being a reader, a writer. maybe murder mysteries had been on her mind lately. maybe she watched too many cop shows. maybe she'd thought about this so many times she perfected it. his mom was not a repeat killer. gabe was her first time. her only time. and it was fine.

he sucked.

it's sitting in the chair, feigning distress but not too much, talking to a cop about the scene while he stares off into the air when he sees him. the boy is young, dark-haired and pale-skinned. he's startled by the presence, cutting off in his explanation about how people often came banging on the door for money gabe owed them. how he kept his poker winnings in the now open and empty safe in the bedroom. he wants to draw attention to the boy, but no one else seems to notice him.

he watches idly as gabe is carried out the front door in a body bag. then disappears towards the bedroom.

percy stands and mutters something about wanting to see his mom. the cop guides him to where she's sat on the bed crying thick tears. the boy is there. no one else cares that he's there. the boy reaches out and gabe's body shimmers into view. he's a visage of how he'd looked right before he died - the wide-eyed shock, tensing of his shoulders, mouth open wide because he'd been shouting at percy, threatening him.

he didn't realize how much like his mom he was until gabe fell flat with a knife sticking out of his throat. his mom standing behind him breathing hard. she'd squatted beside his head, pulled out the knife. stared at it. then stabbed stabbed stabbed until gabe's chokes turned to wispy gasps and his wispy gasps disappeared.

"four stab marks," his mom had said. "hopefully that won't look like overkill. but make sure to mention how many times people came screaming at the door just in case."

gabe's white glowing form dissipates into a ball in the boy's hands. he pulls out a baggie from his shoulder bag, then dumps gabe into it with a grimace.

he does suck, percy thinks. be annoyed.

the boy steps away. his eyes catch percy's. percy's arm tightens around his mom's shoulders as he looks into the endless void that is the other boy's eyes. flashes of his own death catch his mind. lying flat on the ground, weakly asking for help, and a dark-skinned man with black angel wings standing above him whispering, i'm sorry, but it's time to go.

then the boy looks away and disappears into a shadow.

grover believes him when he tells him about it. that's the thing percy loves about grover. the mystical and paranormal are easily believed. grover's parents are hippie-like green witches. percy doesn't really get it but has surmised from grover and visiting their house it means they really, really like plants.

"grim reaper," grover calls him. "or a psychopomp. collectors of the dead."

he lists a bunch of names from various cultures until percy cuts him off. "are any young boys?"

grover shrugs. "i mean life is bigger than what the stories tell. there's more people, more humanity. atheists even. where do they go? who collects them? there's definitely more gods and spirits than we think these days. it's not like they all stopped fucking just because the stories ended. there are definitely more gods than we think."

percy doesn't know what to do with that. grover asks him a lot of questions about the boy. but it's hard to answer them. they can't find a culture he could belong to, a way to summon someone without a name. the kid was young, dressed normal in black clothes with a normal black messenger bag. there were no signs of culture, religion, belonging.

he could've blended into a primary school playground easily.

"maybe you need to kill someone," annabeth suggests. the conversation arises a year or so after they first met and befriended her - a new addition halfway through the school year, a few months after gabe's unfortunate death. following a CPS check, her biological mother decided to take charge of her. annabeth spent a lot of time grumbling about her family in california while also missing california ("it's familiar, new york is not, i don't miss my step-mom, i miss the comfort of routine") and bitching about her bio mom's obsession with her grades and extracurriculars.

it takes some campaigning but the three of them manage to create an afterschool club in the new school year for her to find some time to chill and relax and get school work done. it took a lot longer to convince her mom to let her join their "magics and mystics club" - some nonsense about how it'll make her stand-out in college applications.

percy highly doubts any college is looking too closely at middle school extracurriculars, but what does he know? he's either lasting until graduation with grover and annabeth, or getting his GED and dropping out to immediately book it to the first basic entry-level job he can find. school already sucks ass, but his barely medicated ADHD and severely dyslexic ass already twaddles the line of a C average. What's the use of hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt that's only growing frantically from interest and a degree he barely achieved with the lowest grades required to shake the hand of someone he's never interacted with?

annabeth spends most of her time in the club doing her homework, while percy gets reeducated on grover's witchy stuff. their club advisor is the drama teacher who only checked in at the beginning of that first meeting then dipped for the drama club. grover's putting together a presentation on the history of mysticism while percy glues pictures to poster board. annabeth will present their stuff. the three of them doubt anyone will care if they did anything productive with their club, but annabeth's mom will so they do their best to make it fancy as fuck.

she already doesn't like either of them.

in the spare times that annabeth isn't doing homework or studying for another class, they talk about the spiritual and paranormal, magic and whatnot. so percy mentions his experience with the reaper.

and annabeth's first suggestion is murder. it's hilarious. grover knows the truth but annabeth only knows the lie. percy makes a note of it in his head. maybe he'll hint around the truth. they're close, but there's still time needed between the two of them. the worst she's told him is about the spiders in her bedroom. but nothing about what kickstarted a CPS investigation and her subsequent arrival into his life.

"maybe he's a murder reaper," she says. she's intellectual, doesn't believe in the mystic magic stuff but tolerates it for grover. "so he only comes around when there's been a murder."

"i don't think reapers are split up by types of death," grover argues. "and even if they were, why would a little kid be sent to deal with murders?"

annabeth crosses her arms. "maybe he's not a kid. maybe he just chooses to look like that."

they get into a weird half-argument, half-civil discussion. to her credit, annabeth doesn't bring science into it. they both descend to the computers and the books grover brought in from his house to search through to prove whatever point they've landed on.

percy is too busy cutting out paper to glue to poster board. and thinking about the murder aspect. he doubts that murder matters. he's pretty sure grover's right, but he likes keeping his balls so he doesn't say. annabeth is probably right too. magical beings are always capable of changing form. maybe little kid is just easy. who would be afraid of going somewhere with a little kid. or a dog.

but death is needed to see the reaper again. percy doesn't live with anyone dying. and he's too young to volunteer at the hospital. besides death is random isn't it? everyone was convinced that their classmate who got diagnosed with stage four cancer was going to die but she returned a year and a half later missing a leg but recovering. and the gym teacher who ran marathons and was known for his obsessively healthy eating habits died of a heart attack over the summer.

and even if he hovered around people on the verge of death, it didn't mean he was going to be there when they died.

but murder? definitely. he'd be right there because it would be his fault.

at that, he dashes the thought away. murder is wrong. he can't kill people just to see a reaper he saw but never spoke to. it's not like he has any questions about his death. he'll die when he dies. dying isn't scary to him. what's scary is dying before his mom and leaving her childless and mourning. but death itself? he's unafraid.

but inside burns a deep need to see the reaper again. not even to talk to him. just to lay his eyes on that night sky hair and porcelain skin. then he'd be satisfied and the need would go away.

maybe.

probably.

hopefully.

it's on his sixteenth birthday that he sees another reaper. it's not the boy he's looking for. he's disappointed. he shouldn't be. he should be more concerned with the dead man lying in front of him.

the letter opener is sticking out just below luke's left armpit. it hadn't killed him. it was too delicate for that, and the spot wasn't vital enough. but it had shocked him enough for annabeth to shove him away in disgust. he fell back, tripping over annabeth's shoes, and smashed into the glass coffee table.

"shit," annabeth breathes. she doesn't notice the reaper - a slender arabic man appear from the darkness and pull luke's soul of his chest with thin hands. he pushes his hands together and the soul vanishes. then he turns into a dog, or... something like a dog, and disappears back into the shadows.

it's take a few minutes to figure out how to stage the scene. they get rid of the letter opener and shove a piece of broken glass into the spot. this time he doesn't escape through the window. just walks out of the room, calm and detached, and sits in his mom's car. when the police arrive, annabeth, crying thick tears, tells them that he had fallen over while she was getting her things ready after percy came to pick her up.

it's not technically a lie. the police wish him a happy birthday when he says he came by to pick annabeth up from her study session because they were going to do laser tag for his birthday that afternoon. when they don't arrest him in the weeks that follow, he relaxes. and considers his options. he googles arab dogs which is an odd search term but brings up jackals and anubis. cool, he thinks. he tells them both about it afterwards. despite the death, grover is excited. annabeth is less impressed.

"i would've noticed, i was there too," she huffs.

"maybe they don't like you because you're a nonbeliever," grover fires back.

is percy a believer? he's not sure. he knows that what he sees is real. if he was suffering from delusions or hallucinations, surely he'd be seeing them a lot more than twice over the course of four years.

"what if i asked them?" he suggests. "to make themselves visible to you?"

"planning on being around another newly dead guy soon?" annabeth asks with a laugh. grover snorts. but percy remains silent and serious so their amusement shifts to concern

grover leans in close. "percy-"

"just bad people," he cuts in with a solemn whisper.

"you can't be judge, jury and executioner," annabeth hisses. "what you think is bad is not always universal? think about jim crow laws or slavery-"

"annabeth," he cuts in before she can go on an historical tangent. "i was hoping you'd help actually."

it doesn't take long for her to click together what he wants out of her. she glares at him. "percy," she snarls through clenched teeth. "i'm not swishing my ass to entice seedy men for you to murder so you can maybe have a hallucination to process death."

"okay, okay." conceding, he raises his hands. "it was dumb, i'm sorry. i just... really wanna see this kid again. sorry."

annabeth watches him carefully the rest of the day. grover doesn't. he knows what percy is, even if he doesn't agree. so it's not too surprising to start seeing grover scrolling through the newspaper on his phone. he startles every time percy spooks him when he's reading. then laughs it off, swats at percy, and keeps reading. it's the obituaries that percy sees the most, but sometimes articles about a death.

whatever he's looking for, some kind of proof it's percy, he must not find because he doesn't say anything. but it's grover, percy's soulmate. so he's sure the slow side-eye that he gets some mornings are a knowing side-eye.

percy doesn't look at the newspapers. if he's gonna get caught, he'd rather be surprised about it other than worrying and getting sloppy.

it's hard to find truly shitty people from first glance. he doesn't have the patience to observe. just slight insomnia that keeps him up until one in the morning prowling the streets. he hovers around in his old neighborhood, where the cameras are for show and shitty people live. it's still difficult. he doesn't want to go around hurting innocent people. less so because he cares, but more because it would disappoint grover and annabeth and his mom. he can't disappoint them.

he does see reapers, including the one who will one day take him, but never the boy. percy tries to envision him older, but even then none of them match. he does try to speak to them, but they ignore him. he wonders if it's some kind of weird curse. he can see them but they can't. sometimes the ignorance seems intentional, but he can't really tell so other than a few short sentences that always go ignored, he gives up and heads home.

some days he wakes up and is certain the police will come for him. but they never do and so he gives it a few days or a couple weeks and head back out again. they're opportunity kills. random and haphazard. he keeps mittens on, which looks normal in the fall and winter, but sketchy over the summer. to counteract his want to see that reaper, he signs up to be a counselor for a summer camp. grover joins him. annabeth is dragged off to university summer classes by her mom. her emails are miserable. percy wonders aloud to grover if annabeth would be happier if her mom was dead. grover eyes him flatly and says he doubts it.

percy gets assigned to the little kids who tell him all kinds of family secrets. some are funny. some are not.

it's not that hard to get into the camp's directory and write down in poor handwriting and with tons of struggle the names and addresses of these secrets. it's not a lot, which is great. but it's more than it should be and come summer's end, he has his start for the fall.

it's clear grover knows what percy's planning. he was there after all when a little secret got whispered too loudly. but all he says is, "sometimes kids get things wrong." the newspaper on his phone comes back into play after summer ends. but he still says nothing, even when glances at percy from the corner of his eyes.

it's two years of scattered kills before he sees him again. the kid is older now. he looks about fourteen, maybe fifteen. but percy knows it's him. he's the only one who makes eye contact. this time percy doesn't see his death. but he sees the endless void.

purgatory, he thinks, before he blurts out, "i've been looking for you." the teen tilts his head and smiles, small, gentle. the sight of it slams hard into percy's ribcage and sinks messy into his heart. "what's your name?"

"what's yours?" the teen fires back, turning away from percy and collecting the pulsing orb into a little baggie like before. his voice is enchanting, smooth and crystalline. there's an edge of an italian accent in it.

"percy," he says without hesitation. "jackon. percy jackson." he shakes his head. "perseus, actually, but everyone calls me percy."

the teen laughs gently. the sound is haunting. somewhere in percy's subconscious he knows the sound should scare him. but instead he just craves it more. "well, perseus jackson, my name is nico."

nico, percy thinks. in his head, the name is surrounded by hearts like a schoolgirl writing out the name of their crush in a movie. "that's really pretty," he says aloud. mentally he slaps himself. that's really pretty? that's stupid.

but nico just laughs again. "thank you." he steps over the dead body and touches percy's face. "perseus was a quite the soul when he was collected." his fingertip ghosts down percy's cheek, leaving light phantom tingles behind. "will you be?"

then he dissipates into shadows, leaving percy with a heavy craving for his ghostly touch and hauntingly enchanted voice.

#percico #percy jackson #nico di angelo #annabeth chase #grover underwoood #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic #maybe i'll add more to this later #i was thinking about adding jason to it but i wanna stick w/ percico and i don't wanna accidentally talk myself in perjasico #also how the fuck do i keep starting posts w/ the intention of it being a short ramble of thoughts and then turn it into a thing

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astro-b-o-y-d · 3 months

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Triangulum - Prologue - The Shelduck's Game

— — — — — — —

All was still.

It had been still in that particular neck of the Gravity Falls woods for almost a full year.

The residents of the nearby town knew better than to venture too close, and their sentiments were shared by the beings—animal and supernatural alike—who had formerly occupied that part of the forest. Even the Manotaurs had long since abandoned their nearby man cave—and if even the self-proclaimed representations of manliness themselves wouldn’t dare approach the area, then the rest of the population was in no hurry to do the same.

Such stillness made every step from a pair of unknown feet more prominent, twigs and foliage snapping beneath them as their hooded owner moved swiftly through the underbrush. And despite the darkness of the night sky above—with only a few stray moonbeams through the leaves of the canopy layer acting as a light source—their pace was quick and undisturbed as they ventured deeper into the woods, only broken once they finally arrived at their destination.

A destination in the form of a triangle-shaped statue, half-embedded in the soft earth.

The forest had clearly made several attempts to claim it. Twisting vines had curled themselves around the limbs like the ribbons on a present, and the patches of stone that were usually exposed to the sun's rays during the day were now illuminated with a soft glow from the moon’s gentle gaze.

But despite nature’s best efforts, it still remained.

Remained with an open hand on a permanently-outstretched arm.

Waiting for the day someone finally came along to make a deal.

The mysterious figure stood still for a few minutes, their gaze locked on the singular eye that made up most of the triangle’s face. And after another minute of staring, their footsteps—those still-shattering footsteps—began again, this time to close the gap between them and the statue.

And once that gap was properly closed, the figure’s own arm extended towards the statue—

—and an orange, feathered hand clasped around its stone one.

There was a faint spark in the triangle’s single eye—the first sign of life it had shown in months—before the figure vanished in a flash of light, that little bit of life fading back to nothing with their departure.

And much like the statue itself, all fell still again.

— — — — — — —

“You’re a real wise guy, but you made one fatal mistake! You messed with my family!”

“YOU’RE making a mistake! I’ll give you anything: money, fame, riches, infinite power, your own galaxy! PLEASE! NO! What’s HAPPENING to me?!”

“!NRUTER YAM I TAHT REWOP TNEICNA EHT EKOVNI I !NRUB OT EMOC SAH EMIT YM, L-T-O-L-O-X-A-”

“STAN-LEEEEEEY—”

The first thing Bill was able to process was the fact that he was still screaming.

The second was that he was able to scream at all.

Despite the lack of a mouth (or lungs, if some nerd wanted to get annoyingly technical with the anatomy of a triangle), Bill’s chest rose and fell at a hyperventilating pace, his singular pupil rapidly darting back and forth as he took in his surroundings.

He was lying flat on his back with his face pointed upwards, although a closer examination revealed that any attempt to label directions would be entirely pointless.

Kinda hard to have an ‘up’ or ‘down’ when all that surrounded you was an endless, white void.

He rose up from what could be considered the ground, and hovered in place for a moment. It was the mindscape, that much he could deduce at a glance alone. And a grateful lack of the Mystery Shack living room—or a furious, elderly man about to shatter him like glass—implied it was highly unlikely that he was still inside the mind (or whatever was left of the mind) of Stanley Pines.

But if not his mindscape, then where—

“Oh, hey, you’re here!”

The sound of an unknown voice behind him spun Bill around in midair, with far less dignity than he would’ve preferred. “Hey pal, who d’you—think…”

Any potential anger that might’ve been building vanished in an instant as Bill got a good look at the peculiar being before him.

First obvious thing of note was that they were clearly not human. Rather, they looked to be some sort of anthropomorphic duck or duck-like creature—similar to the ones from the dimensions with that annoying rat who liked to get a bit too pushy with how he ran things. Quantum Destabilizer to his head regarding the specific breed of duck, however—they were probably some kinda shelduck? He was pretty sure those had orange feathers.

They were also about five-feet tall by mortal measurements, and the garish color of their feathers was only outshined by their eccentric clothing choices.

The first thing to draw Bill’s eye was their jacket; an extremely tacky windbreaker composed of a multitude of colors in light pastel shades. Paired alongside with a radically-patterned shirt, sporty red shades, and a necklace with a charm in the shape of an orange, they looked to be the poster child of the word ‘hideously tacky’.

Either that, or ‘retro’.

…Eh, he’d settle for ‘hideously retro.’

“Glad to see you’re up and about,” the duck continued as they took a few steps closer to him. “Honestly, I had no idea if shaking your hand was actually going to work, after everything that happened to you. I mean, getting set on fire? Shattered into pieces? Erased from existence?!”

They stopped and tapped their bill thoughtfully. “Plus there’s the fact that your actual resting place was somewhere completely different—” Their hand moved to the side of their mouth with a cheeky grin. “—and whew, buddy, as much as I wouldn’t mind waiting around for a man like ~that~ to get back to town, I have a million things I need to do today and don’t need to make it a million-and-one!”

Smiling wider, they reached up to nudge at him with their elbow. “Eh, eh, know what I mean?” they asked with a wink, before letting their arm fall again. “Nah, I guess you wouldn’t. The point is, it worked! Because here you are, back and better than ever!”

Before Bill could get even a word in, they raised a finger. “Okay, so I know you probably have a looooot of questions to ask,” they said, and began to tick off the remaining fingers on their hand. “Who am I? How I do know so much about you? Why did I bring you here in the first place?”

The ticked off fingers morphed into a roll of the wrist. “Yadda, yadda, yadda, point is, you probably have a ton of questions that need answers. Well, lucky for you, that’s exactly what I’m here to do!”

A pause. “Well, not here here, we’ll have to wait until we’re actually in my office before I explain the situation more clearly,” they clarified. “Accidentally left all my flashcards and presentation material in there, and if I try to cover all the basics without ‘em, I know I’m going to forget something important. And that'd just be really inconvenient for everyone involved!”

Their smile widened. “But once we’re there, I promise I’ll tell you everything you need to know!”

They folded their hands together and stared at him, likely an indication that they were finished talking. And if that wasn’t enough, they quickly clarified with: “Sorry, I know that was probably a lot to take in, but I’m done for now if you have anything you wanna add.”

It took a lot to surprise Bill Cipher.

With his vast collection of knowledge, near-perfect omniscience, and countless other abilities that could bring whole dimensions to their knees, it was a rarity for him to come across anyone or anything that might actually catch him off guard.

All that aside—

—heh?

Credit where it was due, Birdbrain wasn’t wrong about the amount of questions currently bubbling around in his brain. Accuracy of their questions was also pretty spot on, although it didn’t take a genius to guess the answer of that last one.

There was only one reason anyone ever sought him out, and it wasn’t to trade fashion tips (although it was hardly necessary in this case; the guy looked like a sentient arcade carpet straight outta the Dimension That’s Perpetually Stuck In A Heavily Romanticized Version of the Mid-Eighties-Slash-Early-Nineties).

They were looking to make a deal.

If Bill had a mouth, he’d be smirking at the thought. Boy, back less than two minutes and he already had some chump lining up to make a deal with him, huh?

Had he suddenly transformed into a stupid human child leaving a medical checkup, one being rewarded for the state of their unimpressive and fragile immune system with a piece of cheap candy?

Because it sounded an awful lot like he was being handed a free sucker.

And while normally he’d snatch up a chance like that without a second thought—

"You made one fatal mistake..."

He tensed as Stan’s words forced themselves back to the front of his mind, along with the vivid memory that accompanied them. The sinking feeling of realization as he came face to face with the wrong twin. The panic blossoming in tandem with the flames engulfing Stan's mind, ones eager to swallow both of them in their destruction.

The agonizing pain as his entire being violently shifted between forms in a desperate attempt to escape, before a single punch from Stanley’s fist shattered him like glass—

“You’re a lot quieter than I was lead to believe.”

And suddenly the duck was uncomfortably close to his floating form, a studious expression on their face as they stared him up and down. “Did I do something wrong?” they asked. “Pretty sure I just needed to shake your hand to make a deal, right? Unless someone happened to change the rules while I wasn’t looking.”

With a huff, they placed their hands on their hips and stared off in one direction of the white void. “I will say that if they did, it was a real jerk move!” they called out in a mildly-scolding tone. “I spent months doing as much research on you I could, and if I did all that prep work only for something new to come out just as we start talking, then I’m gonna be pretty annoyed!”

While the duck rambled on, Bill floated backwards with an indignant glare. Only time he was fine with people getting that close to him was when he was the one invading their personal space.

Although they raised a good point; he was being far too quiet.

Even the deadest silence spoke volumes and the last thing he needed was for them to potentially backtrack on the idea of making a deal at all. Unpacking everything else could come later, he couldn’t afford to pass up a chance to make a deal with some obviously-willing sucker.

In the meantime, he had to throw them at least one bone. Or, them being a duck and all, at least one breadcrumb.

Ha. Hilarious.

Another shift of his pupil as he looked them up and down. Well, if they really wanted him to add to the conversation, there was nowhere better to start than with the obvious.

“Sorry, Birdbrain, guess I kinda short-circuited just from staring at the war crime in fifty-seven dimensions you call an outfit,” he said aloud, raising a hand to shield his eye. “Yeesh! Forget an eyesore, I’m getting a full-body ache just by looking at you!”

Yeah, that’d work.

In all honesty, their fashion sense was actually right up Bill’s alley. Bright, tacky colors that made it difficult to stare at the person wearing them for too long? Hideous, brilliant, absolutely something he could see himself wearing if the situation called for it.

But it wasn’t like they needed to know that, and hey; they called it low-hanging fruit for a reason.

Surprisingly enough, the duck actually smiled with amusement at his little quip. “Oh, well, the shirt was a gift from a friend,” they explained, and gently gripped the edge of their windbreaker. “But I got the jacket in the Dimension That’s Perpetually Stuck In A Heavily Romanticized Version of the Mid-Eighties-Slash-Early-Nineties. It’s my favorite place to shop for clothes~!”

It was almost scary how well he could read people sometimes. “Yeah, no kidding,” he said with a cackle. “Didja wake me up so I could point you in the direction of somewhere to buy clothes from this decade?”

“No, no, my fashion sense is a choice,” they said, holding up a finger. “But that’s not what we’re here to discuss! As I said before, I’ll be able to explain everything once we’re in my office. So we—oh, wait, hold on a sec.”

The duck clapped their hands together, and as they did (and as Bill watched), something began to rise up from the ‘ground’. It continued to expand upwards—the shape slowly resembling that of an upside-down horseshoe—and before long, a tall, curved archway towered above them.

The archway’s appearance was fairly unordinary, with the only exception being a small sign at the very top center, labeled with nothing but a clear picture of an orange (or was it a tangerine? Eh, details; a fruit was a fruit). And at a glance, nothing lay beyond the other side aside from the continuation of the endless void.

At least nothing that could be seen by the naked eye.

…Which meant there was a ninety-percent chance that there was plenty to see with an experienced eye.

“There we go,” the duck said. “This will lead us to the main part of my mind, aka my office. There, we can go over all the terms and conditions of the deal I wanna make with you!”

They flashed him a bright grin. “Like I said, forgot all my flashcards and stuff in there, and I’d rather not go over everything without them.”

Without waiting for a response from him, they hurried forward through the archway. As Bill had initially suspected, they seemed to vanish into thin air as they passed beneath it; a confirmation that the archway was really some kind of door to the deeper parts of their mind.

Rather than immediately follow after them, Bill instead turned his attention back to the endless void while he gathered his thoughts.

Okay, a quick assessment of his current situation; Punched in face. Exploded. Died. Woke up to a badly-dressed duck—one who clearly had more than a couple of screws loose in a way that teetered the line between hilarious and annoying —looking to make a deal.

The latter was hardly the weirdest thing to ever happen to him. Probably didn’t crack the top hundred, or even the top thousand. A talking duck in tacky clothing? Just another Sñeaturday night for him.

The former, however—

One fatal mistake.

His eye flashed red with abhorrence as Stan’s words once again hammered against the inside of his skull. In his desperation to shatter the barrier around the town, to put a stop to anything that would keep him from being finally, truly free—

—he’d foolishly miscounted the number of fingers on a hand.

His own hands balled into fists as the implications behind Stan’s oh-so-clever little plan finally started to take hold. No—not just Stan’s plan. Even if the old man hadn’t outright admitted to disguising himself as Ford, it didn’t take a genius to guess that he hadn’t pulled the stunt by himself. It took two to tango, and it also took two twins to swap places with each other.

And if one twin had been in charge of lulling him into their trap, that left the other free to pull the trigger on the gun.

One fatal mistake. One fatal mistake—

Ford had never planned on giving him the equation at all! He’d been deceived, tricked, played for a fool—

—and the worst part is that it had worked.

After all the knowledge he had provided to Ford over the years, after everything he had promised him in their success, he had thrown it all the way for the sake of his…his stupid family!

What a fool he was, and what a fool Bill had been for ever considering him a valuable and trustworthy ally in his plans.

And thanks to Ford’s betrayal, it was almost certain that things had settled back to normal in the mortal realm, with every trace of the Nightmare Realm being forcibly pulled back into the decaying dimension they called home.

Which meant Bill certainly wouldn’t be getting a hero’s welcome once he returned. He’d promised his buddies a party that stretched on until the end of time, not some half-baked event that only last a few, measly human days.

Even if everything was the fault of that ungrateful jerk and his stupid family, Bill would still be the one dunked headfirst into a bowl of multidimensional salsa the second he stepped foot back into the realm.

Thanks to Ford and his stupid family, he had no more backup attempts, no more portals, no Henchmaniacs, no more suckers he could puppet around or trick into doing his dirty work—

Thanks to Ford, he had nothing.

“By the way, I should probably let you know—”

“ACK!”

Bill was once again flung backwards out of sheer surprise as the duck’s head poked back out of the portal. A motion that earned an apologetic laugh from them, their hand also appearing out of the archway as they pressed it to their bill. “Sorry! Sorry, I forgot to tell you something important!”

Bill narrowed his eye at them. “You know, you’ve got a real knack for sneaking up on people, Birdbrain,” he said, muffling his annoyance with a laugh. “Can’t pretend I’m not impressed, though. If you were some slithering, poisonous snake in the grass and I a pathetic, unsuspecting human full of vulnerable red blood cells and no immunity to venom, I’d probably be dead by now!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the duck said proudly. “But what I wanted to tell you was that even if you aren’t interested in making a deal, you’ll need to come in and let me know.”

Both hands were now outside the archway, raised in a shrug. “You know, just so I can pop you back, no harm, no foul?”

Their arms fell along with their expression as they peered closer at him. “Hey, is everything okay?” they asked. “I realize I’m probably moving a little too fast, especially after what happened in the last mind you were in. So I can understand any hesitance on your part…”

They cast him a look of sympathy, hands clasped together as they stepped all the way back out into the white void. “And if you need some time to think it over, I’ll understand. I know I said earlier I had other things I needed to be doing today, but that was all talk! We can take as long as you need to decide.”

Bill’s eyebrow narrowed at their concern. Hey, just because they were right about his hesitance didn’t mean he had to actually admit to that being the case. Especially not now that they’d caught onto that hesitation twice.

Once was easy to pass off as their mind playing tricks on them. Twice was a bit more difficult, though not impossible. Especially not when you were a master at twisting a conversation to your favor.

Another joke at their expense would probably do the trick. Clothing was out, he’d already poked fun at their hideous style and stretching a bit too thin always came with the risk of the tormented building an immunity through overexposure. Not that Birdbrain had exactly been bothered by—

Hmm.

That could work.

With a chuckle, he raised a hand in the air to summon his cane. “Hehe, I don’t know what all that research told you, Birdbrain, but if you’re really standing there and trying to imply that I might be nervous about making a deal—”

After giving it a little twirl, he jabbed the end of the cane against their arm. Not so hard that it would hurt, but with just enough force to make them wonder if harm had been the intent. “—you must not know me as well as you think you do~!”

He paused, and reached up to tap one of his sides thoughtfully. “Speakin’ of knowing people, though, I know you’re all eager to get to your big fancy-schmancy brain office to tell me what’s what,” he said. “But normally when I go dumpster-diving into someone’s mind, I at least like to catch their name first.”

He delivered another poke to their arm with his cane and batted his eyelashes at them. “Unless Birdbrain is your actual name and I’m just the Multiverse’s best guesser~?" he asked. "…I mean, I’ll probably still call you Birdbrain after I get a name, but it’s always nice to have options, y’know?”

There, a nice excuse that also doubled as a half-truth; not once in the entire conversation had Birdbrain actually given him a name.

And while he and the concept of truthfulness weren’t exactly on speaking terms, half-truths were the redheaded stepchildren he was happy to associate with whenever their presence was needed.

If the duck had actually been bothered by either jab from his cane, or if they hadn’t been fooled by his attempt to shift the conversation, they showed no indication of such in their expression.

If anything, their smile only widened further at his request. “Oh, that’s actually a good point!” they agreed, and pressed a hand to their forehead. “Got so caught up in the details that I almost forgot to introduce myself! And knowing me, I would’ve gone through my whole presentation and not even thought about it!”

They paused for a moment to think. “Plus my research indicates that you aren’t a member of the fae so I see no risk in getting my name stolen if I give it to you,” they pointed out, with a glare to their side. “Unless that was something else that someone forgot to tell me ahead of time?”

Bill’s eye shifted thoughtfully towards the same direction, as if he expected to see someone else with them in the mindscape. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing more than the white void he had already grown used to seeing around them.

Once again, that wasn’t an indication that there was nothing to see, but that was something to worry about later. “Tempting, but I’ll set the idea aside for a rainy day.” He gave them a wink, or as best of a wink as one could give with one eye. “Or maybe for when I just get bored and feel like experimenting with something new~! Haven’t done that in a while, might be fun!”

The duck tapped their chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, let’s see. Which name I prefer depends on the person, but I think…”

They held up a finger, eyes bright with inspiration. “Yeah, I think you can call me Tangy!”

“Tangy, huh?”

Bill’s gaze shifted knowingly between their feathers, necklace, and finally moved back to the sign on the archway. Guess he’d thought that low-hanging fruit joke way too soon.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and tease if you want,” Tangy said amusedly. “I never claimed to be subtle when it comes to the way I present myself.”

They held up a hand and wiggled their fingers at him. “Plus my feathers already smelled like tangerines before I took on the name, so it was even more perfect~!”

After giving their hand a sniff, they let their arm fall back to their side. “Well, I’ve given you my name. Guess all that’s left is for us to get this show on the road!” they said, tilting their head at him. “Unless you really do need more time to think it over? I promise I’m not here to judge if you do!”

Boy, they weren’t letting up on that, were they? “Sounds to me like you need more time to think it over than I do,” he pointed out, and cutely pressed a hand to his cheek. “What, are you scared to make a deal with wittle ol’ Bill~?”

“Not particularly,” Tangy assured him with a laugh. “Although I would’ve appreciated the extra time to gather my presentation materials together.”

They held up a finger. “But, if you’re so sure that you’re ready, then let’s go!”

They ducked back through the archway, once again leaving Bill with nothing but his own thoughts. He cast another look towards the void again, unsurprised by the fact that there was still nothing (or no one) to see.

He stared for a moment more, before a devilish laugh began to bubble inside him. Boy, that old geezer must’ve punched him harder than he’d realized if he’d actually been shaken enough to worry, even for a brief moment. What was he thinking, getting so worked up about his situation when some tacky bird was practically throwing themselves at him for a deal? A deal that would probably be child’s play for him to complete, leaving him with a whole favor on their end.

Plus, what was an anthropomorphic duck in tacky clothing but a human with feathers, and tacky clothing? If he played his cards right, he could easily end up with a sparkling new vessel to parade around in while he cleaned his wounds and regained his footing.

Heck, if he really played his cards right, there was always a chance for him to try his hand at another Weirdmageddon. One that would actually succeed this time around.

His features twisted into a wicked, metaphorical grin. And maybe with the right persuasion, he could convince Birdbrain to include a lovely reunion with Stanford and the rest of the Pines family in their deal.

Maybe even a reunion that involved peeling each of them apart like human bananas. Layer by layer, skin from muscle from vein from bones. Until they were all nothing but writhing blobs of flesh, unable to do anything but scream in endless, agonizing pain. What's wrong, Fordsy, you can't erase someone out of existence because your arm's a pile of fleshy goop? Too bad!

A delightful fantasy to imagine, but nothing more than that for the time being. Oh well, something to pocket for later.

With a satisfied expression, he adjusted his bowtie and hovered forward through the archway—

—only to be greeted hard and fast by the unforgiving ground he splattered against on the other side.

There was a gasp nearby, followed by the sound of webbed feet slapping against a tiled floor. “Oops! Probably should’ve warned you about that!”

With a groan, Bill lifted the front of his body up from the floor and cast a nasty look to Tangy. Their hand was extended forward for him to take, and their beak curled into an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” they said with a chuckle. “Completely forgot to mention the faint shift in your natural abilities as you step into this part of my mind. It’s a little jarring, but otherwise harmless and the effects should wear off pretty quickly.”

Their offered hand was ignored as Bill floated fully back up into the air. “That’s a real cute trick, Birdbrain,” he said, and dusted off his front. “Although a bit rude on your guest’s behalf, don’t you think?”

He moved close to their face, features once again stretched into the mouthless-equivalent of a smile. “I mean, I don’t call you over to my place and make you trip on your way through the front door, do I?”

Despite the sudden intrusion of their personal space, Tangy’s expression didn’t change. “No, I’d imagine you’d do something much worse,” they pointed out. “Like make the door lead to the Unnaturally-Moist Dimension, or something equally as cursed.”

Bill folded his arms with a thoughtful look. “Unnaturally-Moist Dimension, huh? Creative, I’ll give you that one.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Tangy said with a laugh. “Browsing your records for months straight gave me a pretty good feel of the kind of guy you are. I swear, sometimes I even see triangles when I close my eyes!”

To emphasize their point, they closed their eyes for a few seconds and pointed a finger to their temple. “Yep! They’re there!”

They opened their eyes again. “Anyway, did we want to get started on the deal, then?”

“Gotta be honest, Birdbrain, I can’t exactly accept or deny a deal if I don’t even know what the terms and conditions are,” Bill pointed out. “So how’s about we discuss all that first?”

Tangy smiled wide at his suggestion. “A very fair point! I can’t expect you to accept my deal if you don’t even know what I want!” they said, and spun on their heels to face the other direction. “Tell you what, you go ahead and make yourself at home at my desk area while I get your file, and then we can start our discussion. I knew I forgot something from upstairs, I swear, I’m just a mess today!”

As they hurried away from him with a visible spring in their step, Bill took the opportunity to examine his new, new surroundings.

The endless white void had been replaced with some sort of observatory combined with a records office. The room was wide and cylindrical with tan walls on all sides, and there were two distinct levels between the floor and the cornice connected to the domed roof above their heads.

The lower level was open and empty, save for a simple workspace at the far left side of the room comprised of a desk, wastebasket and office chair. The area were a mess compared to the rest of the room—the surface was littered with papers and folders, a mug of some unknown liquid, and a closed laptop adorned in bright and cutesy stickers, while the wastebasket on the floor was overflowing with several pieces of crumpled paper.

The upper layer—on the other hand—was a full observation deck. One that circled around the room’s entirety, with both halves coming together at a spiral staircase on the opposite end of the room, and one that Tangy had bounded towards after putting a pause on their conversation. The walls along the platform were lined with tall filing cabinets that stretched from the ground to the diameter line of the domed ceiling.

And rather than any sort of sky beyond the glass, the view looked to be shimmering sea water. As if the entire ‘office’ was situated at the bottom of the ocean, with only a few schools of colorful fish adding some contrast to the endless blue.

“Let me know if you have any requests for the mood lighting,” Tangy called from the spiral staircase. “Normally I keep it neutral in case the boss wants to pay me an unscheduled visit, but if you want, I can just—”

They clapped their hands together, and the ocean view above immediately shifted to a bright, retro scene of shifting shapes and colors, one that could rival their outfit in terms of tackiness. “Or if you want something a little more personal, I can change it to—”

Another clap, and the retro shapes melted into a mess of raging hellfire and bloody hail that thundered hard against the glass. “Again, taking any and all requests, so just let me know if you got ‘em!”

Bill had remained silent as Tangy prattled on—eye fixed on the ever-changing scenery outside the dome—before his pupil shifted down to the workspace area. He hovered towards it, while the sound of filing cabinet drawers being opened and closed from the second level echoed throughout the room. “Just give me a moment, I know it’s around here somewh—a-HA!”

There was a loud BANG of a drawer being slammed shut, before a sudden blur of orange came barreling down from the upper level towards the ground below. At first, Bill expected-slashed-hoped that Tangy would splatter against the floor at Mach speed, if for no other reason than the visual comedy aspect.

A duck splattering against the floor? Why, that was straight out of a vintage cartoon, one where talking animals were allowed to inflict horrific acts of violence on each other. Such a fun period of time in animation history, one of his personal favorites if he really had to pick.

Unfortunately for him (and luckily for Tangy), their body came to an instant stop in midair, less than half an inch from the floor. With an exhale of relief, they stretched a webbed foot down to give the tiles below a gentle tap, and the rest of their body finished the fall at a more manageable speed.

An expected outcome, given the mindscape setting. But Bill couldn’t help but be disappointed at the lack of a splattered duck on the floor.

“Sorry for making you wait,” Tangy said, giving the file in their hand a light shake. “This should’ve been under ‘C’ for ‘Cipher’, I have no idea how it ended up in the T section! Guess someone must’ve slipped it into the wrong drawer or something.”

They let out a small chuckle as they seated themselves in the chair behind the desk. “Well, no matter. Let’s go ahead and get this started—”

They paused, and looked to him again. “Oh, wait, you’d probably want a proper seat for this, wouldn’t you?”

With a gesture of their hand, a empty chair appeared on the other side of the desk for Bill. “Once again; just let me know if you’d prefer anything different,” they said. “Throne, bean bag chair—”

They made little squirming motions with their fingers. “—recliner stuffed with bugs so you always feel something wiggling whenever you sit down?”

This got a laugh out of Bill as he sank into the offered chair. “Once again, very creative,” he said, folding his hands atop his cane. “You really know how to treat a shape in this place, huh?”

“Well, I do like my clients to be as comfortable as possible,” Tangy explained. “It makes them so much more agreeable when it comes to dealmaking.”

Bill raised his eyebrow. Clients with an S, huh? Interesting, and worth questioning. “Oh, so I’m not the first interdimensional, all-powerful being you’ve brought here?” He pressed his hand to his forehead with a dramatic flair. “Aww, well, now my feelings are hurt, Birdbrain. And here I thought I was special~!”

“Don’t worry, you are!” Tangy assured him, with a tilt of their head. “You’re the first interdimensional, all-powerful being I’ve brought here. The other interdimensional beings I’ve brought here were far less powerful than you are.”

They clapped their hands together. “Which is why I’m especially excited to have you visiting me today! I’ve never had the chance to make a deal with someone like you before!”

Wow, they were laying it on pretty thick, weren’t they? To the point that there was a decent chance they were just trying to butter him up.

Still, Bill wasn’t one to turn down a free compliment. “Sheesh, kid, you’re gonna make me blush,” he said with feigned modesty. “I mean, by all means, keep up the flattery. But normally I only get this red if someone catches me in the process of peeling off my exoskeleton.”

He waggled a finger in their direction. “Heyyy, his little deal of yours wouldn’t happen to involve you trying to get me outta my skin, would it~?” he asked with a wink, then let out a small chuckle. “...That was a wink, by the way. In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Don’t worry, I understood the intent,” Tangy assured him. “Although to answer your question honestly: No, that is not what my deal entails. Besides, I’m much older than you are.”

Oh, they were, were they? Another interesting tidbit to tuck away in the old brain vault for later. “Fair enough, I wouldn’t be interested anyway,” Bill said, leaning back in his chair. “So what kind of deal are you looking to make, Birdbrain? Wanna be rich? All-powerful?”

A beat. “…Taller?”

Hey, just because they were keen on dishing out the compliments didn’t mean he had to reciprocate.

“As tempting as that last one is, I’ll pass this time,” Tangy said. “But to be honest, I didn’t just bring you here so you could make a deal with me. I mean, I guess I technically did, but—”

They moved a hand to Bill’s file on the desk and flipped it open. “Point is, this deal is less about what I want, and mostly about what you want.”

Well, if that didn’t shoot Bill’s eyebrow so far up his face that it was a miracle it didn’t fly away of its own accord. So they were just jumping straight to that point on their own without him having to guide them there himself, huh?

It wasn’t enough to lower Bill’s guard completely, but he couldn’t help but give them an intrigued look. “Oh? And what is it that I want exactly?”

Tangy turned their gaze to the file. “Well, according to this; lots of things!” they said, tracing their finger beneath the words on one page. “A physical form that will allow you to escape your dimension and rule the mortal realm with an iron—and three-dimensional—fist. Some form of revenge on the people who stopped you from doing that the last time you tried—”

They let their eyes travel across the page for a moment, before confusion painted their features. “—the world’s silliest silly straw?”

Bill let out a hearty laugh. “That’s right, I’d almost forgotten about that one! One of the few things I gotta give humans credit for; they sure can silly a straw!”

He folded his arms. “But in all seriousness, it’s pretty low on the list of things I’d make a deal over,” he said. “You’re on the right track with those first two options, though. So if we really wanna get this show on the road—”

“Ah, ah, not so fast!”

Tangy held up a finger. “I might know what you want, but you haven’t even heard my terms of the deal yet!”

Despite his best efforts, Bill's nonexistent smile fell in an instant as he raised his eyebrow at them. “Pretty sure you just said this whole deal was about what I wanted?”

“I said it was mostly about what you wanted,” Tangy reminded him. “But there are a few things I’d like to gain out of our exchange for myself.”

They cradled their chin in their hands. “I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be a deal if only one side got what they wanted, would it?” they asked. “It’d be more like—I don’t know—me just giving you a gift without expecting anything in return?”

A shrug. “A nice gesture, but not something that requires all this extra effort,” they pointed out. “In that case, I could’ve simply left a present next to your statue and been done with it!”

Bill rolled his eye. An annoying point, but a fair one. Even if he would’ve absolutely preferred a free offering without being expected to give anything in return. “Well, what do you want out of the deal, then?”

Tangy’s beak widened into an excited smile and clapped their hands twice. Immediately the scenery around them changed; the lights in the room were snuffed out in an instant and the grotesque, hellish scenery beyond the glass above transformed into a calm, starry night.

Another series of claps, and a large projection screen appear behind them in midair, followed shortly by a film projector at the other end of the room. With a pleased expression, Tangy rolled their chair around the desk and moved towards the empty space beside Bill. “I have a short promotional film prepared,” they explained. “After the dozenth-or-so client, it gets exhausting repeating myself over and over.”

They leaned closer to him and gave him a knowing wink. “Plus this way I can offer my guests refreshments while they watch! I heard someone was a fan of Time-Punch? I might have a few bottles on hand, if you’re interested?”

Bill's eye had once again been fixed on the changing scenery above their heads, but his expression fell into something more pleased at the mention of Time Punch. “Well, now, if you’re going to go and offer me something like that, then how can a guy say no?” he asked, tucking one hand behind his head while making a gesture with the other to proceed.

There was a snap of Tangy’s fingers and a small, floating martini glass appeared in the air near Bill, one immediately followed by a bottle of sparkling liquid. “I think a glass of Late 2020 would be to your liking,” they said. “It’s supposed to be a very weird year.”

Bill’s eye lit up. “Ooh, that’s the year the plague makes a comeback, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is,” Tangy said, while the bottle poured its contents into Bill’s glass. “I opted for the back half of the year, after things really began to kick into overdrive.”

Once the glass was full, Bill took it in his hand and gave the contents an expert swirl, before raising it to his eye for a sip. “Oh yeah, that’s the kind of savoriness you only get from media fatigue, toilet paper hoarding, and…”

There was a pause, followed by a smacking sound as he determined the taste. “Huh, almost forgot about the murder hornets.”

“Yeah, kind of a wild thing to throw out there while everything else was going on,” Tangy agreed.

While Bill took another sip, Tangy gestured to the projector and the screen before them lit up with the image of a vintage countdown timer. Once it ticked down to zero, the screen fell dark again for a moment before the first scene appeared.

A random, humanoid man raced into view from the right side of the screen. His appearance was disheveled and worn—as if he’d been previously fighting some difficult battle—and his features twisted with defeat and fury.

He slowed his run to a gradual stop, ducking behind a wall and sinking down to the ground in an exhausted, sitting position. As he pressed a hand to his head, a booming voice (one that echoed throughout the domed room around them) began to speak offscreen. “Greetings! Have you ever found yourself in a situation like this gentleman right here?”

The camera zoomed in on the man’s face, as he glared at the person behind the camera with a look of pure malice. “Hey now, there’s no need to look at me like that, pal,” the voice continued cheerfully. “The state you’re in right now is all your doing! You ticked off the wrong people, maybe you burned all the bridges with your family and friends. You’re a loser—”

On the screen beside the man flashed the word ‘LOSER’ in a wacky font. “—a CHUMP—” Another word in wacky font appeared on the opposite side of him. “—an absolute SUCKER—”

Before the third word could appear above his head, the man waved the text away in a blur of colors. “Can we get to the point?” he asked with a scowl.

“You’ve hit rock bottom with no way to climb back out,” the voice continued. “Or so you think~!”

The camera panned out, and suddenly Tangy appeared onscreen with an excited flourish. “Lucky for you, there’s a way to get your life back on track!” they said eagerly. “Introducing—”

With a wave of their hands, the title of the short film appeared over the two of them in big, orange—(Bill side-eyed the actual Tangy at this, who merely shrugged. “Listen, I like what I like.”)—letters of the same font as before:

“The Shelduck’s Game.”

Bill’s eyebrow rose with curiosity. The first thing to catch his eye was the word ‘shelduck’ (so Birdbrain was a shelduck, huh? Called that one.), but what really piqued his interest was the specific use of the word ‘game’.

Though a deal of a different name, a game possessed enough unique characteristics to justify the use of a separate word. A game implied challenges, rules…

More enticingly, a game implied a prize to be won.

The Tangy on the screen continued to speak as the text faded: “That’s right; The Shelduck’s Game! A fun-filled game for beings of all types across the Multiverse, and a chance for you to pull yourself out of the doldrums and get your life back on track!”

The scene transitioned with a screen wipe to a simple, crudely-drawn animation of Tangy and the unnamed man. “The Shelduck’s Game is so simple and easy to play, a child could do it!” the overlaid voice from before continued. “Not that we get a lot of children playing this game, but they could if they really wanted to!”

The actual Tangy leaned closer to Bill. “Yeah, not a lot of kids end up hitting rock bottom in the way most of my clients do,” they explained in a whisper. “And on the off chance that they do, they’re usually pulled out of it by the power of friendship or whatever by the time I’m able to arrive on the scene.”

A shrug. “Still, I am here if they ever need my help.”

Bill rolled his eye and turned his attention back to the film. “How does this game work, you may be asking yourself?” the voice asked, while the animated stand-in of the man shrugged with cartoonish uncertainty. “Well, as we said before, it’s so simple that even a child could figure it out! And that’s because—”

The crudely drawn Tangy gestured widely, and the scene transitioned to the two of them playing a random board game. “—the Shelduck’s Game is always suited to fit the specific player’s needs and personality!”

The board game shifted to a chessboard. “Are you a fan of chess?” Then a checkerboard. “Or perhaps checkers is more your speed?” The board disappeared completely. “Or maybe you’re not a fan of board games at all! We’ve got plenty of other options!”

Another scene transition, and the man was now hiding behind a tree while Tangy could be seen searching for him in the background. “There are countless games to be played in the Shelduck’s Game,” the voice continued. “But in the end, all you have to do is win one in order to obtain—”

More text written in that wacky font appeared onscreen, covering it in its entirety as the voice read them out: “—The Grand Prize!”

Bill hid a laugh behind another sip of his drink. Once again, his guessing skills were impeccable.

“The Grand Prizes offered by the Shelduck’s Game are just as diverse as the games themselves,” the voice continued. “And just as catered specifically to the needs-slash-wants of the player!”

The scene changed to the man’s animated head surrounded by brightly wrapped presents, and one opened to reveal a pile of money. “Looking for cash?” Another revealed an unlabeled award. “Fame?”

And the last present opened to reveal an elegantly-decorated crown. “Looking to climb back to the top after your nasty and undignified fall from grace?”

A wipe of the scene revealed the man from before, his disheveled and beaten appearance now replaced with a triumphant pose as he stood tall before a pile of his hard-earned rewards. “All of this and more can be yours if you play and win The Shelduck’s Game!”

With a proud smile, the man gave a thumbs-up to the camera. “Thanks to the Shelduck’s Game, I’m finally back on top!”

“Look at this guy!” the voice continued. “Don’t you wanna be just like him? I’ll bet you do! So play the Shelduck’s Game today!”

The guy gave a thumbs up as the title flashed again: “The Shelduck’s Game! Outta luck? Talk to the duck!” A pause, before the voice spoke again in a much more casual tone: “We’re still working on the catchphrase, cut us some slack.”

A series of warnings in smaller text quickly scrolled up from the bottom of the screen, read along by the voice at a pace to match the speed:

“Warning; please do not play any of the more intense games in the Shelduck’s Game if you are prone to illness, vertigo, motion sickness, or are with offspring in any way, shape, or form. The Shelduck’s Game is not responsible for any death (temporary or otherwise), dismemberment, or injury that may occur during the events of the game. Rules and regulations for each game may vary, as will your satisfaction with the end results. The Shelduck’s Game is not associate with Globnar, Time Baby or any associated organizations.”

The screen faded to black, and Tangy once again clapped their hands together. Immediately, the screen and projector vanished and the room’s lighting was restored. “Still a work in progress,” they admitted, while they moved their chair back to the other side of the desk. “But I think it gets the point across!”

They tilted their head. “Unless you have any other questions you still need to ask before we continue?”

Oh, Bill’s mind was whirling with questions, his gaze fixed hard on his empty martini glass in an attempt to mask the glee building inside him.

Birdbrain was in charge of running some sort of multidimensional game and wanted him as their latest player, with the aforementioned prize to be won acting as a lull to draw him in. Play a game, win a prize. A deal older than time itself, and one that often sounded too good to be true.

And as someone who had plenty of experience in the field of dealmaking; whenever a deal sounded too good to be true, there was always a catch. And lucky for Bill, he was quite the expert in spotting the catches in a deal. A master at spotting a watery loophole in even the most empty and barren of word deserts.

First thing of note was the lack of any specific game for him to play. The video had provided examples, but they’d been exactly that; examples. The video had made it very clear that the games were catered specifically to the player’s needs and personality.

And although he had a feeling Tangy was going to discuss the specifics of the game next, there was still the issue of the prize itself. They had already brought up a list of a few things he desired, but nothing that was worth diving headfirst into an unknown game of chance.

…Well, nothing that was worth diving into an unknown game of chance without more information, at least.

He had to keep them talking, at least long enough to get that information out of them and anything else they were willing to divulge. Something he was sure wouldn’t be difficult; with how happy Birdbrain seemed to keep chatting up a storm, it was a wonder that they hadn’t been born a parrot instead of a shelduck.

Man, the bird jokes were almost too easy.

“I know what you’re probably thinking,” Tangy said aloud, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re probably thinking ‘this sounds amazing, and way too good to be true.’, along with some kind of derogatory remark about my appearance.”

Smarter than they looked, apparently.

Bill gingerly traced a finger around the rim of his glass. “Let me just see if I’m picking up what you’re putting down,” he said aloud, while his gaze followed the movement. “If I play one of your silly games and win, I get the prize of my dreams? That’s the deal you wanna make with me?”

“As expected, you catch on quick,” Tangy said proudly. “Yep, games are how we do things over here in my neck of the woods. I’ve got enough power to grant people their fondest desires, but it only becomes a reality if they play and win.”

They folded their hands on the desk. “And lucky for you, Bill Cipher, you happen to be the one I’m extending that lucky offer to today!”

Bill reached his glass to his eye again, downing the last little bit of Time Punch. “Can’t lie to you, Birdbrain, that does sound like a pretty sweet deal. But I’ve gotta reiterate my point from before; I can’t exactly agree to a deal if I don’t know the specifics behind it.”

He gestured widely with both arms and the few remaining drops in his empty glass splattered onto the papers on Tangy’s desk, a shimmery mess of color against their usual shade of white. “And not once in that little video of yours did you ever state the actual name of the game."

He held up the glass to his eye for a casual inspection. “I’m just saying, it ain’t smart to sign up for a game before you even know what you’re playing~!”

Tangy didn’t look the least bit perturbed by the mess, and instead gave a wave of their hand. The few spilled drops rose up from the paper into the air, leaving no trace that they had ever spilled, and a wave of their hand in another direction brought Bill’s empty glass up to join them before both dissolved in a quick burst of light.

The light faded as quickly as it had appeared, the cup and droplets now a floating mass of energy as Tangy shifted both hands to bring that energy into their embrace. They snapped with one hand, then the other—

—and then slapped both hands around the energy, flattening it into something that Bill could not see. After keeping their hands pressed together for a moment, they rereleased their grip and held the mass before them as it rematerialized into something entirely new.

At first, it appeared to be nothing more than a bunch of small, golden shapes, each about the size of an eraser. Once all the shapes had properly formed, however, they started to combine into a larger, singular shape—

“A triangle?”

How original.

The triangle—well, actually it was more of a square pyramid than anything else—fell into Tangy’s cupped hands, and a pair of thin, golden chainlinks began to materialize from the topmost point. They continued to form upwards for several inches, before slowly rounding off into a closed circle chain. “I had a few ideas for the game I’d offer you,” they said. “But I think at the end of the day, a scavenger hunt is the perfect choice!”

They looped a finger into the chain and twirled the charm in the air, the triangle gently drifting back and forth with their movements. “Combined with a little bit of Capture The Flag~!”

Bill raised his eyebrow. Alright, not what he was expecting but his curiosity was certainly piqued. “Elaborate.”

“Basically, I take this little guy and I—”

A snap, and the charm suddenly reverted back to a mess of golden bricks. “—scatter the pieces all across Gravity Falls,” they continued. “I then plop you down in the town, and leave you to find all of the pieces and put the entire thing back together.”

They tapped their beak with their finger. “I’d want to give you a decent amount of searching time, so let’s set the time limit from the beginning of June to sunrise on August thirty-first,” they said. “Both within the year twenty-thirteen, of course, so no trying to pull a ‘Well technically, I could still keep playing because you never specified which August thirty-first.’”

Their hand moved from their beak to their chin as they thought for a moment. “Although I guess there has been some debate on whether the current year is actually twenty-thirteen or twenty-fourteen,” they mused. “Time Baby’s literal-untimely death made things go all wonky for a bit and there’s still some lingering side effects. I’m pretty sure it’s only twenty-thirteen, but you know how it goes—”

They shrugged. “Whatever, from the beginning of June to August thirty-first all within the same Gregorian year. Three months, no more and no less.”

Bill was silent as he contemplated all of this, gaze shifting between Tangy and the scattered pieces of triangle. “Where does the Capture the Flag part come in?”

“Good question!” Tangy said. “So basically, once you get the pieces together, you’ve gotta find a way to keep hold of the charm by the time the game’s deadline hits!”

They flashed him a smile. “Which I doubt would be an issue for someone like you, but what’s a game without a few extra challenges thrown into the mix?”

Extra challenges, huh? That seemed vague enough to be sneaky. “And what does that mean, exactly?” he inquired. “Gonna pop down a couple of extra players to act as an opposing team to me or something?”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Tangy assured him. “I just figured you’d be surrounded by a lot of people who don’t like you, and would probably do anything to stop you from achieving your goals.”

Their smile widened. “I mean, if someone showed up and tried to turn my dimension inside out, I doubt I’d be willing to just let them walk around freely after that,” they elaborated further. “And if I found out they were collecting the pieces of a puzzle that would let them do that again, I’d probably do everything in my power to take those pieces away from them.”

A shrug. "That's just my own personal feelings, though. For all I know, the people down there could welcome you with open arms and do everything they can to help you find the pieces. Either way, though, you have to be the one holding them by the end of the game to count as the winner."

…Alright, so maybe it wasn’t as sneaky as he’d initially thought.

Still, Bill had yet to find any sort of real catch in their offer, and Birdbrain had yet to circle back around to talking about the prize he’d receive if he won the game. “So, just so we’re all clear: you want me to waste three months hunting down some building blocks in a town I can’t stand, full of people I can’t stand?” he asked. “That’s your big, exciting game?”

He folded his arms behind his head. “Gotta say, Birdbrain, I’m not seeing much of an appeal to playing your little game. From where I’m standing, you put far more effort into your silly video than actually making your game interesting.”

A laugh. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure it’d be fun to go back to tormenting the suckers there for a bit. But I’ve been doing that for several decades now, and the novelty’s worn itself pretty thin.”

“Hey, it’s not like I could send you anywhere else,” Tangy pointed out. “What with the weirdness barrier around the town and everything, I’m kind of limited on options.”

They reached up to gently tap one of the scattered bricks with their finger, before the charm reformed itself into a full pyramid. “Which reminds me, I don’t believe we decided on your prize, did we?”

It took every ounce of willpower on Bill’s end to keep his expression neutral as the conversation shifted back to the topic of his prize, despite the initial glee from before bubbling up once again inside him. It really was too easy to get what he wanted out of people, wasn’t it? “We discussed it, but I don’t think we settled on an answer.”

Tangy let both the charm and their gaze fall back to the desk, and they reached over to turn the current page of his file to the next one. “Well, we’ve covered a few of the things you currently desire,” they said studiously, pupils shifting back and forth as they read. “Revenge, a chance to take over the multiverse again…a silly straw—”

“I believe we already established that I can make due without that last one for now,” Bill interrupted quickly.

“Sans the straw, there’s a number of options to select as your prize,” Tangy continued, and flipped to another page. “But so many of them wouldn’t even be worth all the effort of playing, what with that aforementioned barrier still around the town—”

They slapped the folder shut with one hand. “So, why not make that your prize instead?”

Bill blinked. “Wait, make what my prize?”

“The barrier, you goofball!” Tangy said with a delighted laugh. “You play my game and win, and I’ll shatter the barrier for you!”

…Heh? “Heh?”

“I don’t know how much clearer I can phrase it for you,” Tangy said. “Since all of my other options would still leave you stuck within the town limits, why not just get rid of the reason you were stuck in the first place?”

They pressed their hands together in a squishing motion, adding a raspberry for comedic effect. “So yep, that’s my offer! Find all the pieces of the charm, put ‘em back together, and keep hold of the entire thing before the sun rises on the final day of summer, and I’ll shatter that pesky barrier like glass for you!”

“...You’re bluffing.”

It was said far too unprofessionally, far too needy for his liking. But for the first time since he’d arrived, any common sense was momentarily ignored as Bill stared at them in utter shock.

Out of all the things they could have suggested as a prize, out of all the things he could have suggested, not once did the thought of destroying the barrier cross his mind. Why would it? The only one who had any knowledge of how to collapse the barrier was—

Bill’s hand gripped the chair’s armrest, and he let out a grounding exhale of breath in an attempt to relax. He had to remain calm. Neither he nor his Nightmare Realm buddies had been able to break past the barrier, and he had a feeling that ol’ Sixer had no interest in spilling that information to his beloved family.

And if Bill hadn’t been able to get the equation out of him, there was no way that Birdbrain would just know it off the top of—

“‘Gravity Falls Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism and the Equation To Reverse It.’”

Tangy’s attention was now on the laptop, their fingers dancing across the keys for a moment before they pointed to the screen. “Huh, look at that!” they said delightedly. “There’s actually results!”

Bill’s grip on the armrest tightened, cotton fluff billowing out of the rips as his pupil bounced to the laptop for a millisecond. “...And how do I know you’re not just staring at an empty screen right now?”

“I don’t blame you for being suspicious,” Tangy said, and turned back to face him. “But I can promise you that I wouldn’t have offered the idea if I didn’t intend to follow through on it if you win the game—”

“So what do you get out of all of this?”

It was a question that had been lingering at the back of Bill’s mind, just barely out of reach. But upon hearing Birdbrain’s offer to shatter the barrier, something had finally clicked.

They had not once elaborated on why they wanted him to play their little game.

The prize they were offering; it had to be the catch in their deal. Something so personally enticing to him that he wouldn’t think to question why they were offering it to him in the first place.

Why would they be promising to give him so much, if they weren’t going to get anything out of it themselves?

Tangy tilted their head at his question. “What do you mean?”

“What are you getting out of this deal?” Bill repeated, and floated up out of his chair. “Out with it, Birdbrain; you wouldn’t be offering this deal if you weren’t getting something out of it in return.”

He hovered forward and placed his hands on the edge of the desk. “You said yourself that a deal wasn’t a deal if only one side was getting something out of the exchange,” he pointed out. “If I play and win, I get a prize.”

He leaned forward further, eye narrowing with suspicion. “So I ask again; what are you getting out of this deal?”

Much like the other times Bill had invaded their personal space, Tangy showed no sense of discomfort or annoyance at the action. Rather, they simply moved a hand back to the laptop and pressed it closed. “What do I get out of this?”

The hand moved to the charm on the desk, their fingers teasing the chain for a moment. “That’s an easy answer! I get the joy that comes from helping someone in need.”

Bill raised his eyebrow, unconvinced.

“I’m serious,” Tangy said, and rose up from their chair again. “The entire motivation behind giving people a chance to play my games is because I adhere to the idea that everyone out there deserves a chance to get their lives back on track. To get a second chance that many others might not be willing to give them.”

Their cheery demeanor grew unusually serious for a moment as their eyes fell to the desk before them. “Even if they squander that chance, at least that helping hand was extended to them in the first place…”

They were quiet for a moment, before their bright expression returned in full. “Also I’d like to point out that while you don’t have to trust my motives, I did go through all the trouble of bringing you here to make this deal in the first place,” they pointed out. “Why would I go through all this effort to bring you back, only to deceive you about what I have to offer?”

Bill could think of at least a dozen answers to their question off the top of his head, but he simply folded his arms across his chest. In their defense, it was a good point; why bother going through all that trouble if they had no plans to actually hold up their end of the bargain?

Sure, there was always a chance that they were lying about possessing the ability to destroy the barrier, but what benefit would it give them to do so? How would lying here further Birdbrain’s needs?

…Again, Bill could spend an eternity listing off potential guesses, but at the end of the day, they would just be guesses. Not actual answers behind their motives.

“I’m happy to give you as much time as you need to think the offer over,” Tangy said, and waved their hand over the desk. “But if it might help speed up the process—”

They pulled their hand back, and a blank piece of paper flew up from their desk and hovered between them. As Bill watched, the words ‘The Shelduck’s Game Contract’ began to magically form in big, orange (again with the orange) letters at the top of the paper.

Letters that were quickly followed by a series of paragraphs in the same font, finishing off with two blank signature lines near the bottom of the page.

“I know you’re a man of handshakes,” Tangy said. “And we can absolutely do that as well. But my game requires a binding signature to take effect.”

Another wave of their hand and their signature appeared on the first blank line. “There we go, now I’m legally bound to uphold my end of the deal,” they said. “And if I don’t, you’re well within your legal rights to hit me with whatever punishment you see fit~! I do believe we mentioned the Unnaturally-Moist Dimension already? Or perhaps you’d want to do something worse to me?”

A shrug before they folded their hands together. “Either way, my fate would be in your rightfully-unforgiving hands!”

Bill stared at them before his gaze moved back to the contract, slitted pupil darting back and forth as he absorbed every word, letter—even every punctuation mark—several times over. It was nothing they hadn’t previously discussed; an explanation of the game, the decided terms, and—

‘As agreed upon, the being known as Bill Cipher will receive the following upon winning the decided game; the complete and immediate destruction of the weirdness barrier that surrounds the town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Scenic Dimension 46'\.’

His gaze lingered on those words for a moment while he pondered over everything that Tangy had told him. There had to be something he’d missed, the catch he’d yet to find in their words.

But, on the other hand—

His shoulders tensed. They had countered his questions with legitimate answers. They were practically throwing themselves at him to make a deal, even going to far as to offer themselves as a punching bag if they tried to back out. They were promising to give him the very information that he had died trying to pry out of Ford’s mind—

One fatal mistake.

He didn’t even bother to hide the flash of red in his eye, as he snapped his pupil back to Tangy. “You’re serious about breaking the barrier if I follow all your rules and win your dumb little game?”

Tangy held up a hand. “As serious as the odes of plague in that 2020 punch you drank.”

“And all I have to do to win your game is put that little charm of yours back together and keep hold of it by the end of the summer?” Bill asked. “That’s it?”

Tangy snapped their fingers and the charm flew from the desk to their hand. “That’s all you’ve got to do.”

Bill looked from the charm to their laptop. “...And there’s absolutely zero chance of you just giving me the equation right now, even if I do everything in my power to torture it outta you?”

Another snap of their fingers and the laptop vanished in a flash of light. “You could certainly try,” Tangy said with a smile. “But I’m also aware of your vulnerability in the mindscape, and I feel like that probably puts you at a disadvantage in a fight—”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, point taken.”

Bill crossed his arms, eyelid narrowed in thoughtful silence for a moment, then another—

Aw, heck with it. Since when did he overthink this hard about anything?

“Gimme a pen.”

Tangy’s face lit up with excitement as they made a pen float up from the desk and into Bill’s hand. And within seconds, the blank signature line was occupied by a boldly written ‘BILL CIPHER’ in jagged capitals.

Their smile widening further, Tangy gestured the signed contract back towards them and rolled it up with a wave of their hand. “Looks like the game’s on~!”

“Ah, ah, ah, before that—” Bill held out a hand. “—now it’s my turn.”

Tangy gave a nod. “But of course! I’m nothing if not a duck of my word.”

They reached for Bill’s hand with their own, their palms barely making contact before both were enveloped in blue flames. Heatless flames, but the power behind the action could still be felt as the imaginary bonds of the deal travelled up through their arms and throughout their entire bodies.

Bill’s hand lingered in theirs as the flames died down, his grip tightening against their feathers. “If I win your stupid game, and you don’t shatter that barrier for me, I get free reign to torment your lying, feathered butt in the most horrific ways possible until the end of time.”

“Once again, duck of my word,” Tangy assured him. “But I would like to remind you that I only have to uphold my end of the deal if you win. If you lose, you can’t hold me accountable for your failures.”

Despite the eye roll that followed in response, Bill could feel the familiar rush of endorphins that always came with making a deal surge through him. A rush now paired with a swelling passion, as the realization that he had succeeded in playing his cards right.

He had a chance to destroy the barrier. To start again.

To finally be free.

His features twisted into a metaphorical grin. And this time, he would not be making any ‘fatal mistakes’. Take that, Stanford! Take that, Stanley! Take that, anyone who would not be getting in his way again!

“So, are you ready to begin?”

Once again, Birdbrain was just a master at interrupting his thoughts. But once again in their defense, they were also good at following those interruptions with a good point. “So, how’s this gonna work, then?” he asked aloud, gaze moving to their still-locked hands. “I possess you, then we pop on down to Hick Town, or—?”

Tangy tilted their head curiously. “Possess me?”

“Yeah, you know, so I can play your game?” Bill pointed out. “Can’t exactly go without a vessel to possess.”

He batted his eyelashes at them. “Unless you’re planning on just dropping me down there in my pure, unaltered form~?” he guessed. “Couldn’t blame you if you did, I’m a delight!”

Tangy chuckled. “Well, you are a delight, but I don’t plan on doing that,” they said. “Knowing you, you’d probably use it to your advantage and just turn the town upside down looking for the charm pieces.”

They raised their free hand in a shrug. “And while that’s not against the rules or anything, it would make the game a little too easy.”

“Had a feeling you’d lean that way," Bill said with a roll of his eye. "So then, when am I possessing you?”

Tangy chuckled, their smile widening just the faintest amount. “You’re still misunderstanding, Bill,” they said. “When did I ever say you were going to possess me in this game?”

“...What do you—”

There was a flash of light as Tangy broke their handshake, and Bill vanished. Their arm remained outstretched for a moment, gaze locked on the spot where Bill had been previously, before they let it fall with a giddy laugh that echoed throughout the domed room. “Wow, I can’t believe it!” they said, flapping their hands in excitement. “I actually managed to convince him to play one of my games! This is going to be so much fun!”

“Sounds like things are going well.”

Tangy’s gaze snapped to the archway at the sound of a new voice, grin widening as a tall woman stepped through. Unlike Bill’s entrance into the room, she walked with control and grace, her countless eyes shifting about as she took in the scenery. “I saw he had taken his leave, so I thought it safe to make my presence known.”

“Oh, hi, Jhessie~!” Tangy said delightedly, waving at her with their whole arm. “And you’d be right on that fact!”

They gave the woman a double thumbs-up as she approached the desk. “I convinced Bill to play a game!” they explained. “Not only that, you were right about him being suspicious about almost everything in the deal, while also being too darn stubborn to accept any chances to back out.”

Smiling wider, they reached for the triangle charm on the desk and held it up. “Also, it’s a good thing he was so focused on all of that, he didn’t even think about taking a closer look at this bad boy,” they said, and pressed a finger to their bill. “He also didn’t notice how I never actually ended up using my flashcards, despite them being one of the excuses I used to get him in here. Odd oversight on his part, I think.”

“The important part is that he accepted the deal,” she said, tilting her head upwards towards the glass dome. “I’m sure He’ll be pleased about that, as well.”

Tangy also turned their gaze upwards, as the hellfire and blood rain they had previously set for Bill melted back into the underwater view from before. They continued to stare for a moment, before Tangy dropped their gaze back to her. “Hey, Jheselbraum, can I ask you something?”

“You’re going to ask if my initial vision of Bill will come to pass,” Jheselbraum said, also letting the gaze of her multiple eyes fall to Tangy’s face.

Tangy playfully wagged a finger at her. “Nothing gets by you, huh, Miss Oracle?”

“Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure myself,” she admitted. “Or perhaps I struggle to believe it, despite witnessing the events of the premonition with my own eyes.”

She held her hands behind her back. “Regardless, while my visions usually come to pass in one way or another, the events of the future are not set in stone. Whatever happens will inevitably be up to him and the choices he makes during your game.”

“Well, either way, Bill’s on his way back to Gravity Falls for the summer so whatever happens will reveal itself in time,” Tangy said. “Oh, I should probably—”

With a snap, the charm vanished into the air. “There we go! Now his scavenger hunt can properly begin.”

“So, where did you end up hiding the pieces?” Jheselbraum asked.

Tangy tilted their head curiously. “You don’t know?”

“Just because I possess the ability to see into the future does not mean I choose to use it for everything,” she said. “It would make for a rather unsurprising, and therefore dull, lifestyle.”

“Fair enough,” Tangy said. “Well in that case, I won’t tell you! Let’s continue keeping it a surprise for everyone!”

With that, they clasped their hands together. “Well, I’ve probably got some time before he needs my help,” they said. “Care to share a glass of Time Punch with me while I wait? I’ve still got a mostly-full bottle of 2020.”

“I’m more partial to 3030 myself if you possess a bottle,” Jheselbraum said, before taking a seat in the chair previously occupied by Bill. “It’s currently unknown to most, aside from those of us blessed with the ability to see that far ahead.”

With a laugh, Tangy summoned a bottle and two empty glasses. Both of which—along with the rest of the room—were swiftly engulfed in shadow as a massive being passed overhead, beyond the glass of the domed roof.

Once again, both beings turned their heads upwards and watched in silence as a giant, pink axolotl floated lazily through the crystal blue waters, its magnificent body twisting to and fro for a few minutes before it eventually swam out of sight.

“Hmm, it appears I was right when I said He’d be pleased,” Jheselbraum observed thoughtfully. “Although He might be less so when he hears that you offered Bill some of your Time Punch.”

Tangy returned to pouring their glasses with a nervous chuckle. “Hey, come on, he was so suspicious of me when I first showed up,” they pointed out. “What better way to help him relax than to show him I’m a cool duck who’s willing to break a few rules with him?”

They cast her a concerned look. “...I’m not actually going to get in trouble, am I? The big guy would understand, right?”

Jheselbraum hummed with amusement. “Worry not, it was a joke.”

Tangy let out a laugh. “Heyyy, since when were you a jokey-jokerson?”

“Since I was able to predict every punchline while others could not predict my own,” she replied matter-of-factly. “But I’m serious when I say you needn’t worry. I can promise you that He’s pleased with the way things are unfolding, and is as eager to see how it’ll play out as we are.”

Their smile widened, before they waved the first poured glass in her direction. “Well, I certainly hope He remains pleased as time goes on,” they said, before getting to work on their own glass. “After all, the game has only just begun.”

“...That was incredibly cliché—”

“I know, but it sounded so cool and ominous that I just couldn't resist!”

They gestured for the bottle to lower itself to their desk as the two of them gave a toast (one immediately interrupted by an outcry of “Wait, I forgot to tell him the rules!” from Tangy), the base coming to a wobbly rest atop a stack of folders on the desk.

Specifically atop a thick, unopened folder, one that contained a decent number of papers regarding the subject within. On the outside of the folder itself however, there was nothing more than a simple picture to act as a label, stuck to the folder by a cutesy little sticker of the full moon. A picture that was thankfully unobscured by the bottle of punch.

A picture of the Cetus constellation.

#Hayley Writes Triangulum #Gravity Falls #Triangulum The Fic #Bill Cipher #My Writing #Long Post #(Maybe I'll add more tags as needed later)#(That's fine for now)

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