-Meaning is determined by conscious judgement-(Part 2)

"Pineapple-watermelon salad?" Stan read out, once he'd managed to gently capture her wrist and stabilize the phone enough to read what was on the screen. He just as gently let go. "Where are we getting the pineapples from?" He was pretty sure they'd used them all up last night.

"TADA!" Mabel said. "BAM!" And she reached out of nowhere and slammed a full pineapple down onto the countertop next to Ford, leaving both of the elder Pines blinking. ...Make that out of a grocery bag down on the floor next to her, Stan realized, when he leaned back and peered down at the floor, as his brother also did.

"Soos and Melody are out picking up more stuff at the store." Dipper said. "Melody said we needed more fruits than just watermelons since M- er… someone's allergic to melons."

"Who's allergic to melons? Mabel?" Ford asked, turning to peer down at Dipper. "None of us," Stan said. "Don't worry about it."

"But--" Ford began.

"We're making the same one as last night, right?" Stan asked the kids. "Yeah. Pineapples, lettuce, honey, watermelons…" Mabel looked over at the large green fruits.

"...Except without melons this time," Ford said slowly, remembering perfectly well what they'd all eaten last night. "Because someone can't eat them." Someone who wasn't them.

"Yeah." Mabel said slowly. "That's why we're getting more fruits, different fruits."

"Who else, precisely, are we feeding this salad to?" Ford asked, twisting away from Stan's hand on his shoulder slightly and taking a step back, while looking at Stanley with an odd, undirected sort of suspicion.

"The goat, if you get the amounts wrong," Stan told him flatly, and Ford blinked, then frowned.

"Stanley, we are not feeding the goat fresh fruits and vegetables," Ford told his brother in descending tones. "That would be a waste of--"

"--Better not get it wrong, then!" Stan told him brightly, clapping him on the back, then moving around him towards the fridge. Ford frowned after him. "Stan--" he began, then stopped when he realized that all he was talking to was Stan's back, and it was clear from his posture that he was going to refuse to answer him. Ford let out a frustrated sigh, and readjusted his glasses again. "This isn't going to any of the gnomes, at least, is it?" he asked of the niblings. (He'd never been entirely sure if they'd always gone after jam for the fruit content, the sugar, or both, and he'd never quite gotten a chance to test it. He generally forgot to grab fresh produce, on the once in a blue moon that he remembered to venture out to the store, and then forgot that he had it to begin with, until the mold colonies started taking over the fridge again.) He felt at least somewhat relieved at the shaking of heads he got back from them both that they were not trying to either appease, or potentially try and shift the diet of, that particular colony of small cryptids in the woods.

He flicked his eyes over to Stanley, and then back down to the fruit bowl. There was no point in trying to signal to Dipper again; each time he'd attempted to do so, the boy had seemed oblivious.

Had Dipper never fallen downstairs into his lab? Was the Rift even there? If it was, was it cracking? Or had it all just been one long nightmare wrought by Bill? Ford frowned down at the pineapple, as he pulled out his laser knife, and started chopping away at the exterior. ...It could be the summer after Weirdmageddon possibly, which would far better explain why Stan was so much more friendly with him and his being around the children. ...Except that he hadn't done anything like this with them before, upstairs, without cryptids involved, so maybe it was only that -- potentially endangering the children -- that had had Stan so upset with him before.

No-one would even tell him the date, other than that it was the summertime -- which frankly, he'd been able to deduce from the children's presence and from looking out a window -- and not a one of them had left him alone for long enough for him to sneak down to his lab for a moment and try to ascertain on his own exactly how much time had passed. Looking at what he'd made down there, and how much progress on what, would be a perfect metric for him to regain his bearings, but they all seemed just as determined as he was to go down there to not let him actually go down there. ...Well, as much as one could without physically trying to tie him up with rope and chains and lock him in his room to keep him from doing so, that is.

Currently, Mabel was turning out to be the one of them most effective at corralling him, Ford had found, and he had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that she'd also noticed that, too -- and was taking full advantage of that fact. He simply could not bring himself to brush her aside, or say no to her… or, even worse, ignore her.

He tried to tell himself that it was not likely at all that Bill had put her in a prison bubble of her own making, effectively forcing her to jail herself within her own mind… that sort of thing would cause lasting trauma, certainly! Especially in such a kind, gentle, weird loving soul such as hers. ...No, that couldn't possibly have happened to her, so he had no reason to feel so unreasonably guilty that it might... and yet he still found that he could not say no to her.

Surely, it still had to be that first summer. Surely, Stanley and the children were not trying to keep him out of the basement for some sinister reason. Surely, there had to be some rational reason for his family's behavior towards him. Surely...

Ford's mind felt like it stuttered for almost a moment, as it occurred to him that Melody, Soos's fiance, had not been with them that first summer. She'd left the town shortly after… the kids had told him that she'd… And then Ford blinked, because… he'd never actually met her that first summer, had he?

...She could have flown in to visit Soos, though. Except-- Stan wasn't wearing his Mr. Mystery suit. And that likely meant-- Ah, no, they'd said the Shack was closed again today. Perhaps not.

Ford put his hands on the edge of the counter in front of him and leaned forward, closing his eyes. He felt tired. ...And not quite well. But if he tried to lift a hand to his head again, reassuring himself of the metal plate that was there, at the same time as he tried to relieve at least something of the outer-inner ache on his skull with a bit of pressure, Stan would--

"Ford?" he heard his brother say, and he slowly opened his eyes and looked over. And his brother looked worried. Ah. Apparently he couldn't even do that without causing...

"I'm fine," Ford told his brother, giving him a smile and taking most of the weight off of his hands, straightening back up. "What did you need?"

He adjusted his glasses, and tried not to think about the Rift that might exist, inside or outside of the container that he may or may not have made, that might or might not be residing down in a dark corner of his hidden basement lab, potentially cracking even further at that very moment.

It wasn't too pressing. The world wasn't going to end in the next five minutes if he helped his family finish preparing this salad, or another ten if he sat down and ate it with them...

And maybe if it did, it was worth it anyway.

--of course it wouldn't. No-one was downstairs, or could get downstairs since he'd changed the code. And there would be other indications that the containment unit was in danger beyond a sudden, abrupt, and catastrophic failure in integrity, so long as he kept the Rift out of the hands of Bill's puppets, and that failure was not externally induced. Because if it did, and if he did...

Ford knew better than all of them the horrors that Bill could unleash. He had to be watchful. He had to be vigilant.

He had to find a way to slip away from them unnoticed, for just a moment, to check. Everything would be fine. He just didn't want to worry them; that was all. It was just a slight problem with his short-term memory, that was all. He'd had this problem before; he'd handled this before. It was nothing. It was fine. He was fine.

It wasn't as though he was going to have to resort to jumping tables and chairs, and getting in a shooting war with his own family in order to make a run for the gift shop, and the vending machine, and his elevator. That would be sheer madness! He didn't need to do that, bringing peril to his family and their lives in some way, in order to learn the truth of the situation at hand…

...did he?

----

When Stan went to his room to get another shirt, after he got soaked with lemon juice as Mabel had too much fun juicing them, he found an envelope half-slipped under his door. He grimaced a little, looking back and forth down both sides of the hallway, before entering the room and closing the door behind him. They would've have to have gotten downstairs somehow to manage this one, but, judging by the open window he saw when he walked in, he figured that this one was a bit of a 'team effort' on the demons' part. That was almost definitely Bill's way of showing that he'd gone down the outside of the house to deliver the thing, not through the inside of it, and hadn't slipped it under the door at all. The kid had sort of a feel to how he did things, Stan was coming to find.

Bending down, grunting in effort to do so, Stan gingerly picked up the envelope. He didn't recognize the handwriting but the words [I'm sorry -Miz] were on it, so he figured it was probably from his newest house guest.

He walked over and closed the window, while debating if he should open this 'sorry' gift or not. If it was from Miz… well, he was pretty sure the human-demon didn't mean any harm. And there was no way she could have gotten it to him without her 'big brother' knowing about it, so the kid had to think it was an okay 'gift' for him, too…

Stan sighed and hefted the envelope, feeling a heavy weight inside. Huh. He grunted and opened it; it wasn't even sealed. He blinked when a gold necklace thunked out onto his desk. This was… really nice quality too. He pulled out the letter that came with it.

[Hi Stan, I felt bad and wasn't sure how to make it up to you. Bill said you liked gold. So I made this. I know it's probably not enough to make up for anything but I couldn't really think of anything else. You can probably pawn it for some money. -Miz]

He sighed. Figured. The kid had brought up 'money' and 'wealth' both when he'd been begging. And it wasn't like he didn't like paging through an old copy of Gold Chains For Old Men now and again. But… his old necklace had sentimental value, not just a monetary one. And he wasn't so sure that the 'pawn it for money' wasn't some subtle dig at him, or his old man, or not. ...Hell, the two of 'em both had a pair of All-Seeing Eyes between 'em. He'd stopped assuming the kid didn't know shit about him from day one. Only real question was: did they mean it the way that he thought they did?

Probably he should just ask them about it later. He slid the thing back into the envelope, along with the letter, and shoved it into a desk drawer for now. Last thing he needed was Ford seeing something like that and putting two and two together, if he'd understood the kid right earlier.

He changed his shirt, opened the door and walked back down the hallway, then out to the kitchen to see what was happening.

Melody was on her way to the staircase, bringing some food up to the demons now. She'd mentioned to him earlier that she would ask them about any other potential allergies when she went up there, just in case. Stan still wasn't sure why Miz would be allergic to anything, let alone melons -- didn't she make that body herself? Why would she do that to herself? -- but what Stan was sure about was that Bill would probably throw a fit if something they fed his 'sister' actually ended up hurting her, accidentally or not. So… it was probably a good call.

Stan got back in the kitchen and grunted when Mabel waved at him sheepishly. "Sorry again, Grunkle Stan!" He sat down and grunted again, ever the most eloquent. Mabel slid a bowl of the fruit salad over to him. Fruit-vegetable salad. Apparently the recipe was just fruit but Melody had wanted Soos and the kids to eat more vegetables. Stan sort of approved.

He saw that Ford was already halfway done with his. "You hungry?"

"I'm merely amazed at the way this all comes together. Vegetables and fruit. Fascinating." Ford stabbed another bite, picking up lettuce, pineapple, cucumber and a strawberry slice with his fork. Stan shrugged. "As long as it tastes good." He took a bite. Huh. Sweet and sour with some crisp crunchiness. Not bad.

"Where did Melody go?" Ford asked. "Is she eating upstairs?" He had noticed her leave with a bowl of salad and a plate of incredibly burnt toast. It looked too burned to be enjoyed. It sent a niggling thought through him. Burnt toast was…

...No. No, that couldn't be it. --Ah, perhaps she was bringing food up for Mabel's pig! The toast must had been burnt accidentally and they hadn't wanted to waste it. Though they could have fed that to the goat down here… And Melody was probably giving the pig some fruit salad as well because Mabel doted on that animal. That must be it. Did that really make sense? Ford ate quickly, the salad WAS delicious but it was more of a means to an end. He wiped his mouth and got up from his chair. "Thank you for lunch." Ford walked over to the kitchen counter to drop his bowl in the sink. Then, he strode quickly out of the room. After all, he was finished eating. "Ford!" He heard Stanley call out.

"I'll be right back. Just checking on something."

Ford found himself having to come to a halt, though, when Melody appeared out of nowhere to block the doorway. "Oh, Dr. Pines. You're leaving already?" she asked. And then Mabel whined from her spot on the table: "Don't go! I still want to tell you about the painting I made using ketchup and mustard!"

Dipper stared at Mabel, horrified. "Mabel! You made that thing last night! It's rancid!" Mabel huffed. "It's ART!"

Ford felt a little helpless as he was not-quite herded back to the table, but now he knew for certain: there was something going on. Stan had probably asked the kids to help keep him away from the lab. But why? He was sure Stan didn't mean any harm by it; perhaps he was worried that Ford would lock himself in the basement and ignore him again?

Well, he wasn't ignoring Stan on purpose -- he just got distracted with his work sometimes, is all. Still, Ford couldn't help the niggling thought… the spark of worry. He didn't know if the Rift was there or not or whether there never was one in the first place, or whether Bill might still be out there, plotting and planning to hurt his family and--

"Ford. Breathe."

Ford snapped out of his thoughts at Stanley's words, and at the feel of Stan's hand on his shoulder. He began trying to breathe a little more deeply like Stanley had told him to, slowly calming himself. As Ford did so, he reminded himself that Stan cared about the kids. If something dangerous was going on, Stan wouldn't be so calm, right? And… maybe this was the summer after, and the Rift had already been dealt with. Perhaps Bill was gone and they had won… but then again, how likely was that?! Could he even risk not knowing for certain, for long?

Still, Ford calmed as Stanley watched him and grounded him, like he had on the boat at times. (Maybe it really was the summer after?) He was a little… miffed about how worried everyone seemed. They were acting as though he was made of spun glass. Soos tried to break the tension by launching into a story about how he'd just bought a new video game: Grand Theft Horse 2. He asked Stan if he could bring it over so the twins could play.

"Depends. Is it appropriate for children?" Stan grunted. Mabel was bouncing in her chair. "There's horses?! Can you ride them? Can you brush them?"

"Ah… isn't that game violent?" Dipper asked. "I heard you can do train robberies in it."

"But it's the wild west dudes! With cowboys and the Oregon trail!" Soos's eyes sparkled. Melody laughed and patted her fiance's arm. "That's great, but I think it might not be suitable for the kids." Soos pouted, looking much like a sad gopher. (Ford would still sometimes double take when he saw the man from the corner of his vision, so sure that Soos was some sort of alien.)

Mabel asked for a game where she could play with horses or cute animals. A game called Zoo Crosswalk was brought up and Mabel, who had finished her salad, demanded that Ford play with her. Soos dug out his old GS2 to let them play the game in the living room.

Ford couldn't turn her down. He sat with her as she directed her game sprite to shake trees to pick fruits and run around talking to all the cute animals. He wasn't sure why he had to be here when it was clearly a single player game but Mabel would pass the controller to him and claim she needed help with fishing because, "You've got awesome reflexes right?"

Ford played the game with her and wondered when he would be able to make his escape from all this attention, and make a break for the vending machine.

---

"Is it really ok to sneak out like this?" Miz asked as Bill climbed down the side of the house. Miz was carefully glommed onto him piggyback-style, while using what little power she could use (inside the bubble her bracelets made for her inside the barrier) to make herself much lighter, and therefore be less difficult for Bill to carry. Her brother was a bit tense, not liking being grabbed quite so tightly as was necessary for this, but he hadn't trusted her to try climbing down herself while her senses were impaired, so being carried had won out. Miz apologized for having to hold on so tightly. "I don't like being grabbed much either, hugs are different…" She mumbled.

"It's fine, I can handle it," Bill told her about the grabbing. "And yes, it's 'okay' -- why wouldn't it be? --I 'sneak out' all the time!" Bill told her, as he continued to make his way down the side of the shack more slowly than usual. "Stanley says that's what teenagers do." Miz frowned. "I never did that when I was human… though I did sneak out while I was a triangle."

"Oh? Do tell?" Bill's moved his arm to grab another hand hold and carefully lowered the two of them down just another foot.

"Well after I graduated school, the Council assigned me the job of Archiver, which wasn't a bad job all things considered since Triangles were usually only allowed basic labor jobs--"

"So you had to do whatever job your Council gave you?" Bill asked. "You didn't get to choose?" Miz nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. "Since I was an Unnatural, I was allowed a slightly higher rank than a normal triangle got."

Bill blinked. 'Unnatural' as higher ranked? In his dimension, 'irregulars' were killed just for existing -- almost the opposite. "What do you mean? 'Unnatural'? ...Not 'irregular'?" He needed more than just a definition, here; he needed background.

"Well, I don't know how it worked in your Flatland, but in my world, some Shapes were born Unnatural. It referred to the shape of our genitalia. Since the shape of our mating parts determined the shape of our children." Miz closed her eyes and shivered at the memory of her check up. "It's different from being Irregular, in which your outside shape is different. Irregulars are kinda looked down on for being 'ugly' but if their mating parts are normal then they're allowed to get jobs and get mates."

Hm. "You mentioned that on your blog. But how did that fit into the stupid-hierarchy-rules?"

"Well, it was how a Shape could elevate their status. A triangle could have a square shaped piece and father squares. A square could have a pentagonal piece and so on. In that way, through multiple generations of careful Pairing and breeding, you'd get a many sided shape that could produce Circle children."

Ugh, that sounded almost as bad as how it had worked in his dimension, except for the whole strange 'pieces' thing. "But you broke that mold too, HA!" Bill grinned. Miz shrugged. "Yeah. I was a triangle with a round piece AND slot. So… the Council was unsure what rank that made me." she sighed. "If I wasn't still too... small to mate, the Council probably would have sent me off to breed for the rest of my life…" Bill stopped moving for a moment, and his grip on the side of the house tightened, knuckles going white before he forced himself to relax and keep going. "Well. That didn't happen, did it?" he asked lightly. He remembered reading something about her inventing things, so...

"No. I did something that caught the Council's interest. In a good way." Miz leaned closer. "I was actually trying to do something else. I wanted to see if there was anywhere I could run away to. So I could take my brother and leave that awful place. So I built a mode of transportation, based on some stuff I remember from being human… I only meant to use it so I could travel faster, farther, so I could see how big the world was, see if there was anywhere I could go…"

Bill remained quiet as he listened. This sounded like a listening-time thing to him.

"But the Council was interested in the thing I built. They wanted more. I was transferred to the research and development building instead. It paid better. But it wasn't what I wanted. I was still under observation by guards who'd been ordered to keep me away from my family, because the Council said I shouldn't associate with lower class…"

Bill frowned slightly in thought. Miz's past was very different from his own.

"So I tracked down the triangle rebellion. I figured there HAD to be one. And I found them." She didn't sound all that happy about it. "They were all about overthrowing the Circles. But they didn't care about equality or freedom. They just wanted to put themselves in charge, flip the hierarchy as it were."

Miz shuddered. "And they had no problem using me the same as council did. They wanted weapons, they wanted information, they wanted me to birth Circles to infiltrate their ranks…" she sneered. "Of course, I threw THAT plan of theirs out the window. Naw, I somehow sped up their plans by causing mass hysteria and rioting while we broke into the government hall and dragged the Council out in front of the angry crowd."

She was trembling as they made it to the ground and Bill crouched down so that she could more safely and easily slip off of his back. "You know what happened next," she said quietly, as she let go of him to stand on her own two feet. "I'm still not entirely sure what… precisely was going on. But Will died, I a-ate him… and then everything was on fire…" Her voice shook. Bill pet her head again. (The 'not entirely sure what precisely was going on' sounded very familiar to him; he knew what that felt like.)

It still hurt to talk about for Miz, but that's precisely why she did it. Talking about it was better than ignoring it. Even if it hurt, it was better to let it out than to bottle it up inside, right?

"It wasn't your fault." Bill told his little sister as he allowed Miz to hug him again. He was slowly getting used to this. She was getting better at it, too. She never held him tightly, never grabbed him. She just pressed herself against him with a faint pressure, sometimes wrapping her arms around him, until she finished getting whatever comfort she needed. (As long as there wasn't too much pressure, as long as she couldn't go from holding to grabbing him in a way that he didn't know he could immediately get out of, Bill was fine with it. When she did the arm-wrapping thing, it was more difficult, but when she only pressed up against him, it wasn't-very.)

So he held himself still, and waited, until she got what she needed from him again. He heard her take a few deep breaths, before she pulled away with a quiet, "Thanks."

Bill smiled down at her.

Once Miz had calmed herself, Bill stood up and led her away. Stan had said they could take the boat out to the lake. Bill wanted to give Miz a chance to take her Seal off. Not being able to See was horrible! And if she could use that time to See and study how his world held up without a pillar, then that was even better!

The two made it out of the edges of the barrier and Miz sighed in relief as she took off the bracelets. "So, teleport to the lake?" she asked. Bill's almost-immediate response to this suggestion was, "--Define 'teleport'." After all, the way he was hooked into his body right now was probably problematic for several things involving energy.

Then Bill tilted his head. "Why don't we fly instead?" They could stay at least thirty feet up, which would be out of the range of any humans on the ground, and Bill really missed floating -- this would be the perfect excuse if Stanley asked him about it later! Miz blinked. "Like...turn into my full dragon form and fly?" That...would be kinda cool. Bill blinked back. That hadn't been what he was suggesting but now he was very interested in HER idea.

Bill grinned. "Well, I was talking about--" he ran over to the outhouse and pulled a long, thin metal lantern rod out from behind it. "--this! I can make it fly... but now I want to see your full dragon form. Exactly how 'dragon' is your vessel?" he asked, still grinning, and Miz raised an eyebrow. Flying lantern rod? Like a witch's broom but COOLER?! "I still want to see your lantern rod," she said. Bill laughed. "And I want to see your dragon form!"

"So I'll show you mine and you'll show me yours?" Miz cackled. She fingered her headband. "Should I take it off before we go?" she asked. Bill nodded. They were far enough away from the Shack by this point that the only one Miz would get anything from was HIM, and he was… largely non-problematic right now. 'Self-regulating' his emotions was something he was perfectly capable of doing, in his opinion, even if he was having trouble properly regulating his energy-self right now; they were two different things. "--Make sure to check that we don't get spotted by the other humans, or put up a perception filter," he reminded her, in case she was too distracted to remember. Miz nodded and pulled the headband off, shivering as everything came back at once. She stumbled a little and held her head.

Bill hovered there with his hands up to catch her if she fell, but Miz breathed long, careful breaths for a few seconds before straightening up. "Oh, wow. That's a rush." She massaged her head. Bill smiled at her words but watched her carefully. She sucked in a slow breath and let it out at the same speed. "Ok. I'm good." She looked up at him with a soft smile. "To the lake?" Bill nodded, eyes bright and watching her closely now because he wanted to see what she did! He was very much curious as to what she meant by 'dragon'. (In his experience, there were multiple dimensions with different versions of what a 'dragon' was.) Miz tossed up a Perception Filter around them and shook out her hands, loosening her shoulders before she let her powers get to work.

Miz sighed as she closed her eyes with her head tilted back. A rippling went through her body as brick shaped scales grew along her skin while her form lengthened and grew. Bill stared. The 'dragon' form was very odd looking. Its head was triangular with a large single eye set above a pointed snout and a jaw filled with sharp needle-like teeth. Her golden antlers poked through her long mane of black… hair? No, those thin black tendrils were wiggling. Her body was long and serpentine with oddly noodle-like black arms and legs tipped with claws. She shook herself as she looked down at her new form, twisting around to examine it. "Huh… that's… pretty neat…" she mumbled. Miz wasn't all that big for a dragon, around the length of a bus and standing perhaps six feet tall. She flicked her tail and wiggled the tendrils that made up her mane.

"Did you not know what you would look like?" Bill questioned. Miz shrugged. "I didn't have a real idea in mind, just let my powers do what they wanted, which was 'Take a triangle, and make it a dragon'. I like seeing what cool stuff happens when I do that."

Bill blinked. That… was an unorthodox way to go about things. He always planned out every last detail. He never tried to wing it, not knowing what he might get. (Probably because the last time he'd done anything that might resemble 'letting his powers do what they wanted', all he'd really gotten was a really large mess!) He didn't see his powers as separate from him, with their own 'wants' (and, potentially, 'needs'). ...But then, thinking about some of the things Miz had written to him, it seemed that maybe Miz did feel that way about hers.

Hm. ...INTERESTING.

"Alright," said Bill, as he turned away from her slightly, to lift his lantern-rod and hold a hand over it. It took him a moment or two to construct the proper mandala spell-pattern inside his mind for what he wanted, and to whisper a keyword that enacted the spell and enchanted the rod he was holding with it. "We'll fly over, stay at least thirty feet away from the humans above them." That shouldn't be too hard; most of the trees were taller than that. "You stay in the air once we're there. I'll land and get Stanley's boat out. ...Maybe some tackle-bait, too," Bill told Miz, before he let go of the rod for a moment -- now floating mid-air, to sit down onto the main body of it side-saddle. Once seated upon it, he cast his own 'bubble of invisibility' perception filter around himself -- making sure to allow Miz to see through it -- and then wrapped a hand around the rod and mentally commanded it, exerting his will upon it, lifting rather quickly up into the air. As he gained altitude, he started to grin...

Miz wiggled her hips before leaping up, twirling through the air like a ribbon. She giggled brightly, feeling her senses stretch out and See through every knot on every birch tree they flew past. She felt so free.

Being a dragon was so cool!

----

Melody went upstairs to get the dirty dishes and blinked when she found the bowls next to the stairs with a folded piece of paper. She opened the note and read [Hi, Brother and I are going to play at the lake. We'll be home for dinner. -Miz]

Melody sighed. She hoped this wouldn't be a problem. She blinked when she picked up the bowl and found another note.

[Ticket for 1 free back massage from Miz, to be cashed in whenever]

Melody let out a soft laugh. Weird kid.

...Oh, right. She should probably talk to Mr. Pines about what Miz had told her earlier about her dietary needs, when she'd first brought up breakfast. Melody went back downstairs and put the bowl (licked clean) in the sink. "Mr. Pines?" She walked around the first floor, passing by Ford and Mabel, who were playing video games together. Dipper was sitting with them, complaining about how the Racoon had raised their debt again. Ford looked up at Melody.

"Oh, not you Dr. Pines. I was looking for your brother," Melody assured him before walking off. She missed his look of suspicion. Mabel nudged Ford. "Should I buy this new dress or the hat?" she asked.

Melody found Mr. Pines checking the closed shop front, probably so he'd be here to stop Dr. Pines if he tried to get into his lab. "Bill and Miz left--" she said.

Stan nearly had a heart attack at that statement, freezing in place.

"--and she wrote that they'll be back for lunch." Melody handed Stan the note along with the ticket. Stan pulled in a breath and grunted as he took the notes to read over. (He felt stupid now; shouldn't have overreacted. He knew that if the kid was leaving, the kid'd do it with all sorts of fanfare, just to rub it in their faces. ...Y'know, assuming the demonic triangle didn't just kill them all before he left as a 'going away present' to himself, or something. ...Unless that kind of 'kill everyone' thing was maybe more of a 'breaking out' thing, instead...) The back of the ticket for a free massage had more words on it, to the tune of: [Hi mister Stan, you looked like you might need one].

Damn. There were about twenty different ways he could take this, and none of 'em were good. 'Looked like he might need one'? That had at least two ways he could read that. And he hadn't even given the gold necklace back yet; she didn't know he wanted to do that, or she shouldn't know, unless the kid had put up surveillance in his bedroom and the demon-kid had done the empath thing (both of which they both damn well knew not to do). So, what, this 'massage' was supposed to be on top of that gold chain gift-thing? And how old was she inside her head?

Was the kid's little sister messing with him? It didn't really feel like it, though. This felt more like a kid trying to fix things but not knowing how to make things alright. ...How bad did this demon-dragon-whatever want him to say, 'I forgive you', huh?

Stan pocketed the ticket and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. This was giving him a headache.

...He might actually have to take her up on something, even though he knew that was a mistake with the kid watching him like a hawk. (He'd have to have a long talk with the kid first, separately, but…) For a demon, she really was like a kid. Stan had a feeling she was going to continue trying to give him stuff until she felt like he'd forgiven her, even if he tried to tell her he had, no matter what he said or did, unless he really put his foot down with her. (Reading Miz's note, he could sort of picture her with a 'guilty Mabel' look on her face. Like after what had happened with that 'rainbow-blinding incident' last summer… once he'd been able to see again. Ugh. 'Aggressive forgiveness.' It made him want to shudder.)

"Oh, Mr. Pines, before I forget -- earlier, Miz told me that the only thing she has a real issue with is melons, spicy foods, and carbonated drinks." Oh, right. Melody had used to do food carts and stuff; food allergies were a thing with that kind of stuff, he'd heard, really important. "Apparently she finds the bubbles painful, so she prefers tea or milk." Yeah, tea. The kid lived off that stuff, too. Milk, not so much. "She's mildly lactose intolerant, but it's not bad enough that she would need to stop drinking milk. And apparently melon-flavored things are fine, she just can't eat the actual fruit. Honeydew and cantaloupe make her throat itch and watermelons make her nauseous."

"Uh… Huh." Stan grunted. It still left the question of why she was allergic to stuff, when she could make bodies ('vessels', right, whatever) out of thin air however she wanted, as far as he could tell. Melody seemed to pick up on Stan's confusion. "Ah, she said that she wanted to 'keep features' from the original her. I'm not sure what that means, but she said you would understand."

Stan nodded slowly. He thought he sort of got it. The kid talked about some stuff with his own body that way, 'features' and stuff. If Miz meant it the same way, then… she'd make her body allergic to stuff on purpose to be… exactly like her old body? So, she'd been allergic to stuff way back when, too? ...Was it to help her feel more like herself, and less like a crazy triangle? ...He'd have to ask her when she and Bill got back.

...If they returned.

Stan rubbed a hand over his face. No, he was pretty sure he'd read that dragon-demon-used-to-be-human right. He was pretty damn sure that she wouldn't go abducting Bill off someplace without any warning, or keep him from coming back even if she managed to do that and steal a march on Bill somehow. Stan was pretty sure that the kid would come to him first before leaving, if his little sister told him she wanted to leave, too. Just to… settle things out. (The kid knew how Stan felt about the idea of him jumping dimensions all on his own.) They hadn't left left; they hadn't even gone someplace that Stan hadn't recommended they go.

Hell, she had even left a note saying where they'd gone and that they would be back. The kid didn't even do that for him; he just left without saying anything, half the time. Lying about where they were going wouldn't occur to the kid; they hadn't had to leave the note in the first place. The only way Stan would've found out about it was the next time he would have gone upstairs, since Melody couldn't enter up there or check to see if they were there on her own -- she didn't have access. They would've had until at least lunchtime, and maybe even dinner.

So yeah, Stan was pretty sure that Miz had meant it. So, he didn't worry about it. He had bigger things to worry about in the meantime. He had to figure out what to do about Ford.

----

Bill waved Miz out over the lake, and then turned and dropped in altitude rapidly, touching down carefully behind the 'Bait & Tackle' shop.

He hopped off of his flight-capable lantern-rod, looked around -- no, no-one was looking in his direction except Miz -- and dropped the 'bubble of invisibility'.

He casually wrapped his arm around his lantern rod, holding it up against his shoulder, as he walked around two-and-a-half sides of the shop, to then walk straight in the front door.

Bill came to a stop just inside the open door. No-one else was in the shop besides him, and...

"Tater," he said, looking up at Glasses' son, who was standing behind the counter.

"Bill." The man responded. His hat pulled down low over his eyes as per usual.

Bill walked up to the counter.

He pulled out a gold coin and slapped it down on the counter.

"I'm taking the Stan O' War out today," he informed him. "My little sister is with me. Stanley gave us permission to use it." With the preliminaries of Tater's 'pier guard' duties out of the way, Bill went on to address his 'lake ranger' duties with: "She is not a lake monster, she just looks like one sometimes. She will be in and above the boat with me. No-one but me should see her above the boat."

Glasses's son said nothing.

"This," Bill lifted his hand and pointed down at the gold coin on the countertop, "Is solid gold. It should cover the pier cost and some bait." He'd made a few of them using the universal manufacturing unit in the spaceship days ago. He hadn't liked using that much heavy matter to do it, but he hadn't had a chance to pull a job on the unicorns for some 'natural' gold, yet. (He'd thought of that a few days ago, trying to think of ways to 'work with' Stan, to get him used to 'working with' him more, to work him up to… well. OTHER THINGS. And Stanley hadn't done 'two-man cons' before, but he'd WANTED to, hadn't he?)

Bill couldn't pull it off himself easily, but if he could get Stanley to go with him… (Right now, it wasn't looking likely that he'd manage to talk Stanley into doing anything like that soon, though... Not unless he pushed that Stanford to fix himself first, so Stanley could stop having to 'worry' about him for Pine Tree and Shooting Star, and all that.)

Bill was all about the planning, though -- he hardly counted on anything that wasn't a sure-thing in the timeframes he wanted to work within. So OF COURSE he'd tossed enough matter into that unit to make himself a few pieces of gold to have on him at all times, just in case. (It was the closest thing to a 'universal currency' in existence.)

Of course he'd taken over the spaceship to start with, in order to take it out of play and away from anyone else, to use. Bill wasn't stupid, despite what that Stanford might think! Bill knew that Stanford was meeting up with Glasses 'behind his back'. He knew that his Zodiac talked to each other. He knew all this; he didn't have to even try to use his injured Eye to check, damaging it further.

Bill hadn't taken over and reprogrammed the security system on the spaceship to keep it out of that Stanford's hands or Glasses' reach, though. He'd done it because of what would have happened if the man standing right in front of him had decided to get mad, get involved, and gotten his hands on it before he had.

Pine Tree was still young, and he was going to be dangerous as anything out there and then some when he got older. But Glasses's son? The man was already older. And just as brilliant as his father. And less insane.

And a hell of a lot more pissed off with him than he acted, or acted on.

...Yet.

"It's not current legal tender," Bill told him of the gold piece, "And it is not a bribe." Bill felt he needed to be clear about this. "Taking it to the jeweler and having it exchanged for cash-monies will cost you time. You decide how much your time is worth, and the cost of what I am paying for today with it, and you can count the rest as credit," Bill told him. "I'm opening a running-tab-in-reverse."

"Debit system," Glasses's son told him.

Bill blinked at him, scanning his memories of human-things-Seen for the term. "Yes. That." Bill took in a breath, maintaining eye contact with Glasses's son. That sort of thing was important with dangerous humans. "My little sister and I might be coming here multiple times. It will be easier to not have to carry around money to pay every time." Glasses's son said nothing, so Bill continued, finally addressing the final duties that Tater had here: 'shop owner'. "And I want to buy a bucket of bait and a kit of tackle for fishing-rod fishing." Stanley had made the fishing part sound important last time, part of the boating-part, so Bill wasn't going to leave that out with his little used-to-be-human sister out here with him. "We're doing human-things. You should not have to evacuate the lake because of us."

Glasses's son said nothing.

Bill stared at him for a moment, then grabbed a half-full bucket of bait off of the counter, scooped up and dropped a box of tackle into it, and then slipped it onto the 'S' end of his lantern-rod.

He gave Tater something of a wide grin. "WELL. --GOOD TALK!!" Bill enthused in bright tones, but more than a little artificially, then turned on his heel 180 degrees and started back towards the door.

He froze in place for a moment, mid-step, when he heard Glasses's son say behind him, "That stage of yours was a thing."

Bill felt his face twitch. He put his foot down.

(Bill shouldn't have turned his back on him.)

He swiveled back to face Tater (nearly taking out a postcard display at his side with his lantern-rod in the process) and said, "STAGE? WHAT STAGE?" Bill's grin got wider and even more forced. "WHAT, THAT STAGE SHOOTING STAR AND I CLEANED UP?? HAHA! NOT OURS!! PUBLIC PROPERTY! ABANDONED! IN THE LAKE!! CLEARLY!!! --COULD'VE BEEN ANYBODY'S!"

Glasses's son said nothing.

Bill shut his mouth and debated the merits of saying something along the lines of, 'If you want to not have something terrible happen to Glasses, like DYING FOR INTERFERING WITH ME AGAIN, you'll make sure to keep your eyes on him and keep him away from Stanley's house and my Six-Fingered-Hand for the next forty-eight hours.' But. Telling him that could backfire badly.

(It would probably be even worse than telling Tater exactly what had happened with the portal three decades ago, and exactly how much Tater OWED him for what he'd done and not-done to Glasses back then. ...Because he might actually understand it. He was that smart.)

Bill backed out of the shop, walking stiffly with his back straight and staring at Glasses's son unblinkingly the entire time.

Once he was past the door, Bill quickly walked his way to the 'boathouse' and got the Stan O' War out of there, cast a set of 'waterproof' and 'breath-underwater' spells on himself as he went (just like he had last time, the first time, he'd been out on the lake with Stanley). He got into the rowboat and set down the things he was carrying in the bottom of it. He picked up the paddles and started splashing and smacking away at the water with them. He did all of these things without any interference from Glasses' son or anyone else whatsoever.

He was a bit focused on getting things ready for Miz, glancing up at the sky above him from time to time, as she ribboned through the air in lazy spirals overhead. So it didn't occur to Bill until after he and Miz were ensconced out in the boat in the middle of the lake, with a 'go-away-cryptids' and 'go-away-stupid-humans' set of warding spells that went out at least forty feet, that by the time morning had come around on Summerween day, it had already been raining for hours. The whole thing they'd set up out there the night before had already well-disintegrated by that point; it had in no way resembled a stage anymore. ...So how had Tater known what it was? Let alone that it had been HIS?!?

(It didn't occur to Bill until much, much later than that, after thinking on an odd comment from Stanley, that, perhaps, Glasses's son had actually been… complimenting him on it.)

(And when that happened, it left Bill feeling all out of sorts and odd in ways that he didn't want to think about and know how to identify, let alone handle.)

---

"We should catch some fish." Miz was leaning over the side of the boat as they drifted out further into the lake. (They'd been out for awhile already, just letting the time pass by, getting used to the boat a bit, looking at things…it was peaceful and comfortable.) She stared down into the water, feeling their little blips of life as they swam around. "Fish is yummy. And maybe I can bring some home for dinner? I'm not the one cooking it. I'm just bringing home my catch, so it should be acceptable, right?" She had one hand in the water, swishing around and wiggling her fingers. She was half-floating, half-lying in the boat, her long tail dragging through the water. Part of her wanted to go in for a swim. She loved playing in water.

Bill thought about it, from where he was sitting in the bottom of the boat. He was lounged oddly up against the side, with his head thrown back against the bench slat behind him, sprawled out and relaxing in the summer sun, soaking in the heat. "Maybe." Stanley had complained about her cooking before, but that had been more of an 'at the same time while I'm already using it' sort of thing, Bill had thought. Then again, with that Stanford downstairs… "We can ask."

Miz finally looked away from the water and sat up with her head tilted back. She Flickered. Bill watched as her eye flashed through images and information at speeds faster than thought. She stayed like that for a few minutes before the images faded and she blinked slowly. "Huh… well… that explains it… no wonder I was so confused!"

Bill watched her straighten out. She'd been confused? "What did you learn?" he asked. Miz looked sheepish. "So… I seem to have gotten several versions of your dimension mixed up. They all START the same from an aesthetic point of view where a humanoid Bill shows up the year after Weirdmageddon…" She grumbled. "The Ax in charge of this dimensional set is a lazy ass!" she complained, as she flopped back on the bench and kicked her legs into the air.

Bill stared. That didn't sound lazy to him -- that sounded like it might be the OPPOSITE of lazy, if he was right about what she was implying...

"Who's supposed to be able to tell the difference between them?! And one of them is a video game?! Aaaauuuuggghhh!!!" Miz rolled around on the bench, her tail flicking the water.

Bill slowly began to frown. "...You…" he wasn't entirely sure how to put this. "...don't like games?" he asked of her carefully.

"I love games! But this is… urgh… it's hard to explain… there's a whole dimension where their world is apparently a video game? I can't quite understand what I'm looking at here…"

"8-bit or High-resolution?" Bill asked next.

"High definition. Looks almost like real life."

Bill blinked at her. "Two-dimensional or three-plus?" he asked of her next, raising his head.

"Three. And the Ax there is apparently some kinda system admin or a central processing AI or something? Which, makes sense actually now that I think about it… but… that's not the weird part."

Bill slowly straightened up in place at the mention of the stupid lizard, and how she had described it. "...What's the weird part?" he prompted her.

"The Bill there… isn't Bill. He's… Will." She got very quiet at that.

Bill had been about to ask her about-- but what she'd said derailed every thought process he had going on entirely.

"...You're… sure it's Liam?" he said, blinking rapidly.

"He… he called himself Will… but tried to deny it? I… don't know if he's…" She made a frustrated sound. What even the fuck was that?

Bill didn't quite know what to say. If that… person?... tried to deny it, then… --no, but Miz would recognize their/his/a-Will-Liam, wouldn't she?

WAIT.

Bill's eyes narrowed. "Was he talking about The Game?" Bill asked. "Or... The Rules?" If he could, then that would mean he wasn't a demon-from-the-outside. They always VANISHED on Bill (...vanished on EVERYBODY, really...) after doing that -- or, well, trying to do that, when Bill tried to tease, force, cajole, or otherwise TRICK any of them into-- ...and then they never came back, not anyplace that he could See. (Stupid lizard. Not wanting him to find out…)

"I think… he mentioned A game, but their whole dimension seems to be some kinda game so I'm not sure. But he looked like your human-ish form." Miz frowned at Bill. "It almost feels like your Ax set up a bunch of dimensions with the same starting point and just… let them go loose to change and evolve in different ways."

"But they all ended up at the same fixed point," Bill said, repeating what Miz had just told him earlier. "If it set things up so that, no matter what we did, we still did the same thing at the end and ended up losing, even after we... diverged?" What had been the starting point, and when had they all started diverging? Should he ask? (She'd said 'starting point' before, in referring to 'coming back', but… had she meant the same thing now? Or had she meant earlier in their trillion-years-so-far?) "That's not lazy. That's the OPPOSITE of lazy, if we all still ended up like..." Bill gestured at himself with a frown.

Miz was quiet. "But… why? What kind of… experiment is your Ax running?"

Bill let out a breath that was a half-sigh half-groan. "Probably the same one it's running everywhere! --I think your dimension is different," he told her, "Because you're different. --You're a demon," he told her, "But YOU didn't come 'from-the-outside' like 'demon' demons do." He relaxed a little bit, leaning back against the seat behind him. "I think it's trying to figure out one of those demons, maybe. So it made us. And isolated you," he told her, "Because you were more demon-like than the rest of us, and it didn't want EVEN MORE interference from other demons when it was trying to figure something out. --Though that begs the question," Bill said darkly, "Did it make us FIRST, or did it make us LATER." The stupid thing had Rules, after all. And the stupid lizard interacted with demons-from-the-outside differently than any person inside the infinite dimensional multiverse; it generally, in Bill's experience, never interacted with any of them at all, the ones who had always been-and-stayed 'inside'.

Except for him. Just Bill. Just once.

"...I don't know. Can't see anything really important for some reason." Miz frowned, her tendrils wiggling around her. "Like it's blocked."

"It does that," Bill confirmed. "Doesn't want us getting into things too deeply. Been working on my Eye since forever-and-a-day, and there are still things I have trouble trying to See," and not just in the 'taking a LOT of effort' way. "Are you being blocked from seeing things earlier, or later? Certain locations, not times, or just times?" Bill asked. "Are they the same as us, or are they other-Bills?"

Miz just groaned as she flickered a few more times before giving up. "Anything before the whole…'is now a blue haired human-ish' is kinda blurry."

Bill blinked at her.

"...So, you don't know how we all started out," Bill said slowly. Apparently, they both had VERY different definitions of what 'starting point' meant.

"A couple of them I can get a sense for. Was a yellow triangle, started Weirdmageddon, got punched by Stan. That seems to be the trend in most of the dimensions I've Seen."

Bill blinked at her again. "...I wasn't yellow when I was living in my dimension, before it burned down," he told her carefully. "How far back can you See?"

"Specifically you? Not too much. It's all...vague? But a lot of elements overlap with others and I got them all confused and mixed up with each other."

Well, "It should be vague with me!" he told her with a smile. He hadn't been expecting her to see much about HIM, specifically, because… "I locked down most of my own Information, here, a long time ago," he admitted to her. "Keeps idiot demons from seeing weak points!" Bill waved it off far more casually than he actually felt about it. (He did NOT want to think about how many times he'd had to handle some of those… individuals... talking shit about his brother without even knowing him; Bill had put a stop to that VERY QUICK. And once he'd done that…)

Bill hadn't expected other Bills to potentially have done that, locked down the ability for others to view their own pasts, but… maybe he should have? He'd done it himself, after all. And while Miz and Seb were hims-that-were-also-hims, and seemed to have far less control than he did… they had been from much 'farther' away. It was interesting to him to be given such easy confirmation that Miz truly wasn't close enough to being him that his own spell- and weird-work automatically recognized her as being himself; quite the opposite. (Because while Bill had locked others out of viewing the details of his past, it wasn't as though he'd locked HIMSELF out of viewing his own past -- though he did it but rarely, given that his own memory was one of perfect recall. It was looking FORWARD that had caused him problems.)

These Bills, by Miz's own comparison, were potentially 'closer' to him, and potentially closer to being the same as him, after all. Maybe he shouldn't have let Miz and Seb so strongly inform his thinking about what Bills were like, up until this point... but. "My dimension was grey, mostly. Tints of black; not much white." The circles had outlawed color.

"There are… dimensions where Flatland had no color, like you described." Miz frowned. "My Flatland had limited color. But Seb's Flatland was colorless." she paused. "And he had a Liam too." she paused again "Instead of a Will like I did."

"So, Seb and I might be closer in our timelines," Bill mused, thoroughly unamused. "I wonder if that's shared-similar history, or shared fixed-points instead."

"Well, there was a door called [Flat Dreams] that had multiple other doors stretching behind it. Yours and Seb's doors were around that area." Miz pointed out. "My door was… kinda isolated."

Bill tilted his head at her. "Doors in your Dreamscape have similar origins?" he asked. "Starting conditions for us?"

"More like they're organized in some way." Miz hummed. "Like… grouped together by similar features?"

"Hm," said Bill. "Did you organize them, or was it the lizard?" If it was the stupid lizard, there was no way they'd figure out what those features were. The big frilly jerk.

"Well, I'm a naturally organized person who likes to sort things, so I wouldn't put it past my own unconsciousness sorting the doors." Miz paused. "So like… I guess you and Seb are from worlds with a grayscale Flatland and a big brother named Liam."

"...That would imply that you can See things unconsciously farther than you can See them consciously!" Bill told her. HA! --That was something she'd have to work on. (But at least it was something she COULD work on, that wasn't starting from absolutely NOTHING and trying to MAKE SOMETHING from THAT.)

"My mind is a really weird place." Miz sighed. "After all, I was born already knowing a basic timeline for how a Bill Cipher's life was supposed to go… and I proceeded to mess it all up."

Bill let out a laugh. --Well, he couldn't contest that! "Weird is good! ...But." He paused for a moment. "How did you know how it was 'supposed to go'?" He left it at that; he'd already discussed with her how 'messing it up' was a GOOD thing.

"Back when I was human, there was a story. Multiple stories actually." Miz wasn't sure if this would be too existential for Bill but, he DID ask. "I liked reading the stories. There were hundreds of them, all branching off from the first. A story about a pair of twins who got sent to live with their great uncle for a summer…"

Bill tilted his head at her. "What's your point?" (He didn't make the connection. It was too general, and he didn't think like a human. He didn't always pick up on the same patterns -- read: almost never did. ...Not if he wasn't reading minds--)

"It was the story of the Pines, Gravity Falls and… how they defeated a yellow triangle named Bill Cipher."

Bill blinked at her again. "What's your point?" This was strange to her? (People told stories about him all the time! Granted, they usually didn't talk about his defeat, but… was she not familiar with the concept of…?)

"I read a whole BUNCH of those stories. And...I think… a lot of those doors I have… lead to them." Miz admitted. "I remember thinking that the door that said [Flat Dreams] sounded familiar but I couldn't figure out why. But I think it was the name of one of the stories I read."

Bill let out another laugh.

He grinned at her and stretched a bit.

"Kid," he said, as he relaxed his stupid human-ish body's muscles and dropped his arms again, "What do you think 'infinity' is?"

Miz made a weird face "So… you mean… there's a door out there… leading to a dimension where there's a human-ish Bill Cipher getting fucked by both Ford and Dipper at the same time?" It was FINE when it was just a stupid smut-fic, but to think that it was REAL? Ew….

"Eh." Bill waved it off. "Not all dimensions exist at the same time. And if THAT'S happening somewhere right now," he not-quite-snickered, "Then I would NOT call THAT one of 'us' a Bill Cipher who is like us!" Bill-as-himself certainly wouldn't go around doing such… icky and stupid body-things. Just… ew. And he certainly would not 'let' any Zodiac of his get away with disrespecting his boundaries or bodily-integrity like that, let alone let things progress to that point. (Why would any one of him want that? Clearly, that was an other-him-that-was-not-him. Clearly.)

Miz shuddered. "Two at once… in the same hole… how did they manage that without magic?!"

"Ears are larger than you think," Bill said sagely. Then again, maybe she'd meant a hole made in their midsection with knives? That seemed more up a Stanford's alley. You could do just about anything to a body once it was dead. Miz stared at Bill and blinked slowly before deciding she wasn't going to correct him. Less traumatic for her.

The more important question to his little sister on that, though, at gauging her human-looking reactions to the idea of what she'd just said, was… "If you didn't like that story, then why did you read it?" Bill asked her.

"....because I was bored…" Miz blushed orange.

Bill let out a laugh. "If you're bored, then you're booooooooring~" he teased with the start of a grin, then grimaced and lifted a hand to his throat, cutting himself off from singing any further. Ah, his voice really wasn't what it used to be. This stupid form he was stuck in… He couldn't hit any of the etherics at all, he was pretty certain of it, let alone any of the ultrasonics or infrasonics in the usual frequencies he usually liked to toss in there, just for fun! (He'd avoided doing much more than humming before, because he hadn't really wanted to confront that…)

Bill slumped in place and let out a bit of a huffy sigh, not quite massaging his throat with his fingers and a continuing grimace. Would Stanley consider it a large change to add just a little more range? An octave or twenty-four?

Miz was still muttering quietly to herself about… what was apparently a whole bunch of really awful stories she'd read. And her horror at those stories being somehow real in a dimension somewhere. "The freaking Once-ler outfit from that god-awful movie!"

Bill watched her discomfort for awhile, and it occurred to him to wonder if he should worry about whether reading so much of so many things before when she'd been bored, had potentially somehow set his sister up to be hurt by it, or break over it in some way, now. He slowly started to frown. He had a feeling that a 'there-there' or a hug might not be enough this time...

"...Well. If there are stories you liked… then they may also exist too?" he tried, then stopped and had to rethink when that didn't seem to help her any. ...So it was the ones she didn't like that were the problem, were they? "And not all of the ones you don't like may exist YET," he told her. "If I kill the stupid lizard first, then they may-never?" He looked at her somewhat-hopefully. Had he fixed things for her, at least a little?

"Well. I'm gonna try to find more info about the dimensions around yours now. To… take my mind off this topic." Miz coughed as she looked away and started Flickering again. Finally Miz slumped over. She had an arm draped over her eye, a low whine escaping her throat. "Why're they ALL Blue???"

Bill wasn't sure how to react to this. Was there something wrong with blue? He liked blue! Did she not like blue as a color? ...But he should be supportive of her anyway, even if she didn't like it. He was her big brother, after all. Stiffly (as usual), Bill placed his hand on her head to press down, lift, and press down again. (That was how patting worked, right? She hadn't complained yet. So he was probably doing it right!)

"There, there?" he told her, trying to be supportive of her likes and apparent dislikes in color choice. That would be a stupid thing to fight with her about, after all. She could like and dislike whatever she wanted. That was fine! (Not liking blue didn't mean she disliked HIM, even if his hair was mostly blue, in the color-shade he really REALLY liked…)

Miz sighed. "Thanks big brother…"

"...Do you want to tell me?" he asked her. (...instead of asking what he probably shouldn't ask her about what she thought of the color blue: do I want to know?)

"...your Ax is a weirdo… also I think blue is very nice color. Will was blue, it was really pretty. I'm just wondering why your Ax's dimensional set contains so many blue Bills." She mumbled darkly, "If they get mad and turn red, would it turn into Bled?"

'Weirdo' was not how Bill would describe 'his' lizard. But at Miz's evaluation of blue, Bill relaxed quite a bit. (...Though he did get an odd feeling at the idea of someone potentially thinking his blue was 'pretty' -- he wasn't pretty, he was a snappy dresser who was THE WORST! Haha...)

But at the last thing Miz said to him about the so-called 'color' Bled, Bill's eyes went a little wide and he looked more than a little bit horrified.

"..." said Bill. (And if anyone had asked him about it later, he would have told them that he'd probably hit some of those out-of-stupid-human-ish-body-vocal-range frequencies on his response to the idea of ever turning that particular color.)

----