paradise pier  𖠰  »  ˎˊ˗  12:00 hours ⸺ open starter !
on a summer day like this, paradise pier is bustling with people. clouds adorn the sky as if they were painted against a backdrop of cerulean blue, with the sun shining brightly on the crowds. despite being above open water, they’re boxed in: by seaside food stands, bright attractions, and carnival game vendors — many of whom stand to benefit and have upgraded their prizes accordingly.
dipper knows well enough the tricks and trappings for these games, how most are rigged against the player from the start. but it’s a pair of sound-isolating headphones that catch his eye, which he desperately needs after leaving his only pair at the shack. first, he wonders what the stand’s budget is, if it can afford to stake studio-level gear.
and next, the gears in his brain begin to spin.
wind pressure, launch angle, the low and sagging canvas roof — dipper’s never been the most athletically inclined, but there’s a workaround. the brain is just as much of a muscle as biceps, and the work he’s put into the former can surely close the distance. not to mention, it’s been years since his last disaster at a carnival; he’s gained enough experience now to hopefully not give someone a black eye.
what he fails to account for is the stiff, completely unyielding rim. he adjusts his stance, elbows bending as he shoots the over-inflated basketball towards the backboard. but with no breakaway slack to absorb the kinetic energy, it slams against the welded steel and rocket-launches past him into a nearby bystander. head whipping to follow, his warning comes out rushed and in a panic, still slower than wherever the ball crashes. “watch out! it’s coming right for — ”
stormborns
titsay
vaporwave
