#stcmo au

Known PhDs: Astronomy (Theoretical), Biology (Botany, Zoology), Chemistry (Biological), Cryptology, Engineering (Chemical, Mechanical), Linguistics (Etymology), Mathematics (Number Theory, Probability), Physics (Astro, Theoretical)

Family: Caryn Pines née Romanoff (Mother)✡︎, Filbrick Pines (Father)✡︎, Sherman “Shermie” Pines (Older brother), Stanley “Stan” Pines (Younger Twin Brother), Unnamed Nephew through Shermie, Jesús "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez (Adopted Nephew through Stan), Wendy Corduroy (“Adopted” Niece through Stan), Mabel Pines (Grand Niece through Shermie), Mason “Dipper” Pines (Grand Nephew through Shermie)

Backstory: Here, and Here.

Inventory

Worn:

(Home Dimension)

Cell phone

Chai symbol necklace (stainless steel)

Croc puff boots (dark brown)

Digital wrist watch w/ GPS

Extradimensional bag

Extra pair of glasses

Ford Hate Club long sleeve shirt (black)

Half-frame glasses (black frame with gold rivets, transition lenses)

JERK pullover hoodie (red w/ gold font)

Leather belt (dark brown)

Middle ear implant (left and right)

Slacks (black)

Thermal base layer top + bottom (gray)

Trench coat (brown)

(Multiverse)

Cargo pants (black)

Chai symbol necklace (stainless steel)

Croc puff boots (gray)

Dimensional Watch w/ navigation setting

Duster coat (black)

Extradimensional bag

Extra pair of glasses

Ford Hate Club long sleeve shirt (black)

Half-frame glasses (black frame with gold rivets, transition lenses)

JERK pullover hoodie (red w/ gold font)

Middle ear implant (left and right)

Neck gaiter (gray)

Thermal base layer top + bottom (gray)

Transdimensional Communications Device

Trigger mittens (gray)

Utility belt (gray)

Weapons:

(Earth Grade)

Grenades (Fragmentation, Expanding Foam, Expanding (Glitter) Glue, Pyro, Flash, Sound)

Parker AAHE-Grade Side-by-Side Shotgun

Smith & Wesson 686-6 Revolver

Switchblade

Taser

(Futuristic)

Laser Rifle (Sniper type)

Magnet Gun

Plasma Pistol (Dueling type)

Quantum Destabilizer 

Other Equipment:

Crowbar

Detachable belt pouches

Dog whistle

Hand torch

Multitool engraved with the initials "FHM"

Pen light w/ laser setting

Transversal Communications Device

Medicinal:

15mg Buspirone (Sea Grunks Era)

650mg Tylenol Extended Release

Broken Bone Serum

Drunk-B-Gone

Nutrition Pills (Portal Era Only)

Regenerative Formula

Water Purification Powder

Misc.

Beaker and vial set w/ burner, contained in wooden box

Calligraphy pen set

Childhood photo of himself and Stanley on the original Stan O’War

Grocery store shopping bag full of wedding rings from every marriage he's ever destroyed.

Group photo of himself, Anti-Ford, Watchdog Ford, The Archivist, and Lee-77/H

Infinity-sided dice

Large volume canteen

Loose Paper (blank, lined, graph, and parchment)

Notebooks (hardback)

Pencils

Regular pen set

Satchel of sunflower seeds

Set of 7 dice

Sticky notes

Stolen shirts from The Ford Hate Club

Swing arm protractor (aluminum)

Connections

Named Allies (Home Dimension):

Old Man McGucket

Shifty / Wolfgang Von Doppelgänger

The Spirit of Modoc the Wise

Named Enemies / Rivals (Home Dimension):

Everyone who isn't a listed family member or ally

Named Allies (Multiverse):

The Anti-Ford

The Archivist by @tearosepedall

Lee-77/H by @nowimjustastranger

“Watchdog” Ford-419"3 by @nowimjustastranger

Named Enemies / Rivals (Multiverse):

ˣ indicates (Jerk) Ford Hate Club membership

Better World Dimension Ford by @mother-ofthe-universe (Incident)

Cat Ford ✡︎ (Incident)

Dr. Murray Bit(r)ch ˣ by @aroace-get-out-of-my-face (Incident)

Dr. Pines of the Institute of Oddology ˣ by @maridrawss (Incident)

Ford-83;9F ˣ by @nowimjustastranger (Incident)

Lee-\'64 "The Drifter" ˣ by @maridrawss (Incident)

Lee-CF9L "Nine Lives Lee" by @urdadsceilingfan (Incident)

“Loser” Ford-121713 ˣ by @rayyanishere1 (Incident)

Mordant Scorpio ✝ (Incident)

Sixer Cipher by @a-gil-rebel (Incident)

Stan-83;9F ˣ by @nowimjustastranger (Incident)

Stan-H512'12 by @triptychcryptid ˣ (Incident)

Preferences

Personality Traits: Audacious, Clever, Cunning, Empathetic, Grumpy, Impish, Petty, Rude, Sentimental, Shameless, Spiteful, Witty

Love Giving Language: Acts of Service

Love Receiving Language: Physical Touch, Quality Time

Likes: Anomalies, Firearms, Math, Music, Shenanigans (being a menace to society in general), Sweets, TTRPGs, Wordplay

Dislikes: Cats, The ‘Fordverse’, High/Sharp Pitches, Puppets, Steel Chairs, Strangers in his space, Surprises, Tourist Traps

Hobbies: Dungeons Dungeons & More Dungeons, Illustration, Journaling, Killing Nazis, Lepidoptery, Reading, Recreational shooting, Riddle/Word Puzzle solving, Stargazing

Favourite Foods:

Beverage: Caramel Frappuccino (also Mabel Juice)

Alcoholic drink: Long Island Iced Tea (on the rocks in a highball glass)

Dish: Beef borscht

Snack: Candied sunflower seeds

Dessert: Lekach

Trivia / Other

Because he did not give Bill Cipher complete control over his brain, he never gained the ability to see extra colours like canon Ford can.

Due to his Chronic iron-deficiency anemia, Jerk Ford's baseline 'normal' levels of hemoglobin are much lower than the average person. This is how he is by no means healthy, and his natural healing process and immune system is abysmal, but he can go extended periods of time with what would be significant blood loss for most people; his body is so used to having low hemoglobin from low iron, that a loss of volume isn't a shock to his system.

Even though he enjoys casual alcoholism drinking, he mostly only drinks beers for the low ABV and extra calories, and rarely anything stronger because his dehydration, malnutrition, and lower BMI causes him to have a low alcohol tolerance.

For a Ford, he has a low body count.

—For a Ford, he has a high body count.

For a long time, he could not sleep in regular bedrooms because he could only sleep in places that had multiple exits.

He can cook surprisingly well but rarely does it because he has been lifetime banned from kitchen activities since he was twelve years old, because he made his brother Shermie a bowl of kasha that turned his skin pink for a week straight.

He has more white hair than other Fords because his first few regenerative formulas overtaxed his cellular division, until he learned to create serums that would regenerate/rapidly divide cells without shortening the DNA strands (He fixed it after he went to the Yo-Yo Dimension).

He has several feline adjacent traits due to being stuck in the cat dimension and outliving his counterpart:

—He can be 'scruffed'. Grabbing the back of his neck does physiologically compel him to go partially limp and compliant, at least for moment. However, he can resist this if he knows its coming. The only other person who knows about this and has gotten away with it is Watchdog Ford.

—He can purr, but this only happens while he is sleeping and feels completely safe, or when he is sick. He is in denial about his ability to do this, so whether or not he can purr voluntarily is unknown. He also trills when he's roused from sleep.

—He can understand cats. (No, he cannot speak to them. Humans lack the appropriate vocal structure necessary to replicate their vocalizations)

—He is most energetic during twilight hours.

—His body temp runs high (100°F-102°F or 38°C-39°C). This does give him a better resistance to high temperature environments, but compounds his cold intolerance and his calorie expenditure.

—His hearing was improved, but not quite as much as a cat because he still has immobile, human outer ears. There is a drawback that he is very sensitive to sharp pitches, sounds, and frequencies; sometimes it can even cause vertigo. For this reason, he has implants in his left and right middle ear that stabilizes his vestibular system. It does not hang externally like a traditional ear implant.

—Small spaces make him feel safe and secure. This was also caused by him having to wedge into small spaces to get away and/or hidd from people chasing him.

—A tapetum lucidum spontaneously generated under his retina, giving him night vision (his pupils are still round and do not slit. But his eyes do glow in the dark / reflect light like cats and other nocturnal animals).

He has a thinly veiled eating disorder something similar to food aggression. With the sheer amount of bounties he has on him, bounty hunters and assassins would often try jumping him when he was stopped for periods of time, which was usually while sleeping or during meal times. Now he is incapable of eating around other people / eating while not being hidden, because he has this feeling that if he is, someone will get the drop on him.

—During family meals he'll usually sit at the table but he'd just be reading a book or the newspaper. He'd eat right before or right after by himself. 

—This is only for actual food, he's still able to drink stuff around people without getting agitated.

He is a decade younger than both Anti-Ford and Watchdog Ford. Making him the youngest and the smallest of their group. And yes, the other two absolutely lord this over him.

He lacks the shoot-now-journal-later trait / murder gene that most Fords have. He usually doesn’t kill if he can get away with it, but he does have exceptions*

He takes his heritage surprisingly seriously. Although he is an atheist, he still practices some aspects of Judaism to feel closer to his family for cultural purposes while he was lost in the multiverse:

—*Apparently while he was in the multiverse, instead of celebrating Jewish holidays the traditional way there was no point without his family, he would travel to parallel Earths of different dimensions to kill Nazi’s (he’s killed at least seventeen different versions of Henry Ford). He will also never turn down an opportunity to beat up Henry Tandey.

—He does not eat meat and dairy together and will wait six hours between consuming meat and consuming dairy, and half an hour between consuming dairy and consuming meat.

—He does not eat pork, or aquatic animals that do not have both fins and scales.

—He implied he is kosher here.

—The above examples are the most reasonable restrictions he was able to maintain while in the multiverse.

His hoodie's brand is "Toon Logic" a multidimensional company that crafts clothes that instantly reset to their default state once a day (usually by morning) via closed time loop, which is why his hooded sweatshirt remains in pristine condition despite how often he gets shot, stabbed, electrocuted, burned, ect. 

—He steals shirts from his hate club more than any other item because while his hoodie resets daily, he has to frequently switch out his top base layers when they get too many shooting and stabbing holes.

—The slash by Bill Cipher did not get reset because Bill is a God-Level being.

—Yes, he does say 'hooded sweatshirt' instead of 'hoodie', because he sucks.

His magic spells and incantations are harder to decode and undo because they're written and spoken in a mix of Hebrew, Latin, and Yiddish; requiring knowledge on all three languages.

His official designation is Ford-PJC311, but it has been scrubbed from most official records. The Fordverse refuses to call him anything other than Jerk Ford and for that reason his original designation is not common knowledge.

The incident from the Space Waffle House parking lot was the only instance of Jerk Ford drinking alone. He does not go out to drink unless other people are with him.

—This is due to his tendency to choose pettiness over the right or most logical answer, being a total lightweight, and having a lot of bounties.

—This is not a habit that he started in the multiverse, this is something he started doing in college; he was a popular tutor for women because he was guaranteed to not hit on them, and a lot of women would prefer general jerk behaviour over 70’s sexual harassment. And those women would always tell him “Never go to the bar alone, there’s safety in numbers! And always watch your drink!” And now he thinks it foolish that so many men are so careless when they go out to drink.

Jerk Ford has a very special therapist who has to regularly consult animal behaviour specialists and science fiction writers in order to meet his… unique needs.

—Compared to his brother who has depression, Jerk Ford has anxiety.

The Pine Emporer Moth (Nudaurelia cytherea) is his favourite moth species. Besides the obvious Pine part, he finds the adult moth and its catepillar form visually stunning.

Unlike Canon Ford, who is ambidextrous, Jerk Ford is dextral (right-handed). This is contrary to his twin brother being left-handed.

—Despite this, he is quite proficient with his left hand, and is able to still write and draw with it.

—He shoots left-handed because his vision is slightly better in that eye.

(there are so many people to tag holy

First, from chapter 1:

“An ‘accident,’ hm?” Ford’s tone is unimpressed, looking down on the sheepish, hunched Stan and the scattering of broken glass on the floor at his feet, “It’s always an accident with you, Stanley. How do you manage to break everything you touch?”

“I-I don’t know, sir.”

Ford scoffs and crosses his arms. Stan politely looks at the floor,

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“As you should be. Now clean this up. Quickly.”

“Yessir.” Stan nods, reaching for the broom… which isn’t there.

“Oh, the broom’s in the lab, I was using it… Just use your hands.“

The briefest hesitation, which Stan kicks himself for, then Stan’s on the ground picking up pieces of glass with his bare hands. He only cuts himself twice, and he thankfully manages not to drip any blood on the floor— the last time he got blood on the floor, he had to mop the whole house for it.

By the time he looks up, Ford’s already gone. Some of the tension loosens from his shoulders, his posture, but only some. He can never relax fully now. What if he makes a mistake?

He can’t disappoint Ford anymore. For a thousand and one reasons, he just can’t.

Then, from a later chapter which hasn’t yet been posted:

The soft knock on his bedroom door is startling, despite barely being audible. Stan tenses up, then closes his eyes and distinctly un-tenses, shuffling into a more lax position, ready to pretend he’s asleep. The door slowly creaks open.

“Stanley?” Comes the whisper from the door, “Are you awake?”

He does not answer. No, he decides to be asleep for this.

The door creaks slightly more and footsteps slowly tip-toe into the room. They come all the way up to the side of his bed. Stan’s desperately tempted to look, but he keeps himself reined in. Don’t let him know you’re faking.

With gentle touch, a stray hair is dragged out of Stan’s ‘sleeping’ face. Ford softly sighs, clearly right next to Stan. He just stands there for a long time.

Eventually, the quiet footsteps pad away and something softly plops into… probably the armchair, from the sound and the direction. If he focuses, Stan can still hear Ford’s breathing, but nothing else.

At least, until the crying starts.

Small sniffles at first, choked little sounds, then the occasional sob, muffled by something blocking the man’s mouth. No matter how nervous he may be, Stan can’t just let his brother cry alone. So he pretends to slowly wake up, blinking his eyes slowly open,

“Mmn… Ford? That you?”

“Oh! Sorry, I—“ Ford sniffs and adjusts in the armchair, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Nah, ‘s no problem.” He sits up a little to look at the dark, shadowy shape of Ford in the little armchair. “What’s up? You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” His voice breaks on the last word and he winces at himself. Stan tries not to react too much,

“You, uh… you sure?”

“I’ll be alright. I just… needed to see you. Alive. I need to be near you for a while, I think.” It’s too dark to see Ford’s expression, but he fidgets with his hands, “Would you mind if I stay in here tonight? Just so I don’t forget you’re really here.”

“Sure, that’s fine.” Stan answers quickly, sitting all the way up and starting to move, “You can have the bed, and I’ll sleep on the chair, or on the floor or something—“

“No no no,” Ford interrupts quickly, “I couldn’t take away your bed, I’d feel awful. The chair’s perfectly fine for me. I want you to be comfortable.”

“My bed?” Stan’s too tired to stop himself from questioning, “It’s your house, Ford, everything’s yours.”

“No— well, yes, it’s my house, but this is your room. Everything in it belongs to you now.”

“But you bought it.”

“Consider it a gift, then.”

“But—“

“Stanley, I won’t allow you to have nothing.” Ford declares. “Let me take care of you, alright? You’re very important to me.”

“I… I am?”

The genuine confusion in Stan’s voice permeates through the room, and after a moment, Ford chokes out another sob. Stan curses, shifting again to get up, but Ford comes to him faster, sitting on the edge of the bed and giving Stan a blind hug. It’s tight at first, clinging, but it immediately loosens to something gentle and easy that Stan could pull out of if he wanted to. Hesitantly, very hesitantly, Stan returns the embrace. It brings tears to his own eyes too; he hasn’t had a hug in… damn, since he was a teenager. He barely remembers how.

Their latest mission found them staring into a badly-kept backyard in a pretty okay neighborhood.

"Ford, they're dogs," Lee said with exasperation. Then he paused and said, "Seriously? There's a dimension where we're just dogs?"

"I'm not sure why you're surprised," Ford said, bending over the fence to study his two targets.

They were, in fact, a pair of dogs. Two boxers. They were currently fighting over a rope toy, snarling playfully at each other. In this dimension they remained in Glass Shard Beach, but in a house with a backyard and no human Pines in sight. Most likely Filbrick Pines and Caryn Romanoff had also been dogs.

"Yeah, the multiverse is infinitely huge and has every iteration you can imagine, if the M-dimension exists so can anything else, I know, I know." Lee came up to the fence to look at them too. "But they're dogs. What is dog-you gonna get upset about? Dog-me chews up his favorite squeaky toy and chases him out of town? How do we even identity them as versions of us? Don't dogs have polydactly more than humans, or something?"

"Their dimensional signatures line up, so they are us," Ford said.

Any response Lee might've mustered up to that was interrupted by the dogs suddenly bursting into a barking fit, scrambling at each other. The one Lee thought was probably the Ford--the paws looked kinda odd and wide--barreled into his brother so they rolled in the yellowing grass and started tussling.

Lee watched Ford tense. "You know that dogs play-fight, right?"

"I know that," Ford gritted out.

His brother sighed. "Please don't kick a dog. That's the most basic evil-bastard thing you can do after stealing from a baby."

"It's just another Stanford."

"A Ford that's a dog," Lee pointed at the two dogs still tussling and barking in the yard. "Literally just a dog."

That wouldn't stop Ford from attempting to dish out retribution and Lee knew it. So in a way he was glad when the back door of the small, squat house burst open and a very irritated man stood on the patio to yell at his dogs. Ford and Lee ducked down, but the man wasn't really looking in their direction anyway. Dog-Ford and dog-Stan stopped fighting after the first, "Dammit, shut up! Shut up!" The Dog-Stan got up and started barking at the man, which was a bad move, because the man got off the porch and started marching towards the dogs.

They watched as the man got a hold on Dog-Stan's collar and started dragging the dog towards the front of the house, muttering, "I know it was you, you dumb mutt, I'm sick of your shit."

Ah, there it was. That dog was about to get dumped on the street.

Probably. This guy didn't look like the kind that was going to shoot his dog when he got annoyed with it. Not redneck enough.

Dog-Ford barked and whined, following after the owner and Dog-Stan, but didn't do much once they got to the fence door and the owner shut it in Dog-Ford's face. He just sort of paced around, whining. Because he was a dog. What was he gonna do, jump the fence and bite his owner?

As Lee contemplated that, Ford had already started making his way around the fence to the front of the house, clearly about to beat the owner's ass. And then steal the dog. So Lee used that time to hop over the fence and start approaching Dog-Ford.

The dog growled at the intruder to his home turf, but with some cooing and fishing out some jerky he'd had stuffed in his jacket pocket, Lee soon had Dog-Ford eating out of the palm of his hand. Literally. Just after that Dog-Ford started licking his hand with a doggy grin and letting Lee pet him, tail wagging furiously.

Lee smiled. It was a pretty cute dog. Still young with that paws-too-big-for-its-body look.

Dog-Ford being a bit young made it easier for Lee to scoop him into his arms. He squirmed a little, obviously not used to being picked up like a chihuahua or a Shi tzu might've been, but some more patting calmed him right down.

On the other side of the fence, Lee heard some brief shouts, some barking, and the sound of a body hitting the concrete sidewalk. When he unlocked the latch of the gate and strolled out of the backyard, it was to the unsurprising sight of Ford hauling Dog-Stan into his arms with the unconscious form of the owner sprawled on the sidewalk.

"So, we bringing them to a adoption place or something?" Lee said.

Ford frowned solemnly, petting Dog-Stan's head. "No. We can't be sure they wouldn't be separated. We'll bring them back with us."

"Hear that, buddy?" Lee said, patting Dog-Ford's side. "You can't even imagine how many people are gonna be lining up to pet you and your brother."

Seriously. No one could resist a pair of cute dogs. Not even a hardened band of multiversal journeyers.

Hell, the fact that these weren't some fucked-up dimensional hell dogs might make everyone more excited to pet them than other people.

[1st Panel]

Watchdog and Jerk: We're not friends. *as they're seated next to each in O'Sadlys while surrounded by empty seating*

[2nd Panel]

Watchdog and Jerk: We're not friends. *waiting in line at the Annual Friendship Convention*

[3rd Panel]

Watchdog and Jerk: We're not friends. *while sitting directly next to each other on the couch with an empty spot on their other side*

[4th Panel]

Lee, Anti Ford, and The Archivist: *stressed out and chain smoking because they're sick of those twos shit*

[Watchdog Ford and Lee-77/H by @nowimjustastranger.

The Archivist by @tearosepedall.

Anti Ford's design based off of the design by @zombiedeers

My first ask about the StCMO AU: Here