#littledippered

" don't TOUCH that ! "

she snatches the heavy sci fi gun from his hands, holding it up to examine it for any damages. digits press gingerly along the barrel, following down to the trigger; pressing a button, the railgun humans awake lighting up red. it's humming grows louder and louder before the light goes out suddenly, the shrill hum dying down. she huffs, chucking it over her back and glaring a scolding look to the boy.

an impish smile works it's way across glitch's visage as she steps out in front of the boy , tilting her head in faint amusement as he scrambles for recovery . she forgets how funny lessers are until she gets the chance to poke at one of them ; this one in particular is already proving delightful , within only a few short moments of their encounter ! reaction wise , that is . there's plenty of room for improvement regarding his awkward demeanour and unpleasant odour . boys .

eyes bright and gaze intent , the little abomination leans in a little closer . personal space ? what's that , again ? she forgets .

" nothing ? sure looks like something to me . don't be shy ! "

what , is it a crime for a girl to be curious now , or something ?! offering little more than a faint scoff in her response to dipper's own reasonable demand , she swiftly takes advantage of his failure to properly defend the journal --- and lurches forward in a blur of binary , reaching to swipe it !

another grating snarl of code and whining static precedes her sudden disappearance ... before glitch rematerialises , hovering over dipper's head out of reach , perusing the book's contents lying down in midair .

@littledippered asked ; ❝ i just want what’s mine. ❞ .

A cackle peels out of him at Pinetree's statement, peering down at him from the top of the shack's fridge. In his claws he clutches a book; more specifically one the other had been reaching for about five minutes ago. He radiates smug energy as he dangles it over the edge above him, clearly out of his reach.

❛[ SEND ⚠ TO PICK UP MY MUSE ≻ highly accepting

Right, so that answers the follow-up question of whether it's always like this in here. It's not the worst place Twain's ever had to stop, really, but it's far from the best.

"Eh, well. Sucks for them, I guess." He leans against the nearest wall, rummaging into his bag. Pulling a discarded pen out of an unzipped pocket, he scrapes what he can of the beans off the bottom of his shoe; better not to track that over the floor, even if it is already dirty. "You wouldn't believe the sorta stuff I've stepped in. Floor burrito ain't even close to the top five."

That's an exaggeration, but Dipper's a lucky part of the 99% of people who don't need to know that kind of thing.

$. IN THE ASHES.

$.   Just one day, one day where the kids don’t get themselves into some kind of supernatural trouble. One day without zombies or dinosaurs or whatever. One day, that's all he asked for. But no, no !  Of course not !

     Stanley had been a hair away from scolding Dipper — or rather, asking the little nerd what the hot belgian waffles was going on — when he’d been hurried into the nearest room with a series of hushed whispers that his hearing aids couldn’t quite catch.

     Yeesh. Kids these days. They had no respect for authoritarian figures.

     He was so proud of them.

     But that didn’t change the fact that he was an old man with old man joints that were not happy with the current situation, or the fact that he really had better things to do, or the fact that — even if he’d sooner give discounts at the Mystery Shack than admit it — Dipper’s anxiety always put Stanley on edge.

     Still, he finally caught something comprehendible from his great-nephew. And sure. He’d give Dipper a few minutes.

GLaDOS sentence starter (accepting)

heavy boots come to an abrupt halt, her weight weighing them down into the mud as she spins on her heels. metallic digits clink as they ball into a fist huffing annoyedly as she marches in a completely new direction.