Inspired by the fic open season prompt with the tsunami. This is not edited/revised, it’s something I’m just writing on a whim. This is a welcome prompt; I’ve been wanting to write! Thank you! ^^
Hope you enjoy it!
Warning: swearing/feels will be in this fic…
Greasy’s Diner was so worn, so full of the smell of old oil and neglected French fries and rotting leather seats, that only the natives of Gravity Falls dared to eat there anymore. Nobody really enjoyed the food; they came there for the atmosphere and to people-watch and talk.
One of the Greasy’s regulars was none other than the demon Alcor, who preferred to be called Dipper by his friends, thank you very much.
Ah, yes. My apologies.
On this particular day, Dipper was seated in one of the grayish-red booths, sucking on a lollipop that he’d picked from the pile of candies that sat on the table. He wasn’t really sitting in the booth, he was floating a couple inches above it, and his feet were on the table like the rude dork he was.
His black-and-gold gaze flicked to the other customers, ensuring that everything was okay in the restaurant. Lazy Susan, who was well into her seventies yet refused to retire, as she wiped down the bar counter. Toby Determined, the strange reporter, was talking to Deputy Derland and Sheriff Blubs. Wendy sat in the booth behind him, boasting about her recent adventures to anyone who would listen. Mabel, Stan, Henry, and the Triplets were still at the Shack—he’d come here on his own. Everyone’s aura was a peaceful, calm blue…until she came.
Pacifica Northwest burst in, staring at her phone, and Dipper was startled by her aura—a roiling mix of sharp yellow anxiety and red anger and gray sadness. “Turn on the news,” she said, her voice strained.
The diner had gone quiet, and Dipper was growing more nervous by the second. Had one of the Triplets or Henry or Stan or Mabel been hurt? Kidnapped? Killed?
He stifled those thoughts as quickly as they’d come.
Lazy Susan flicked through the channels until she came to the news. Pacifica had sat down in a bar stool, tapping her fingers impatiently.
“—three thousand people dead,” said the news anchor. “This tsunami is one of the worst in history, having destroyed countless homes, businesses, and lives. For more information, I’ll turn this over to NOAA meteorologist Tsukuba Namiko.”
The screen changed to show a young American-Asian woman with short-cropped, black hair and a sad expression. “We never saw it coming,” she said. “Tsunamis are unpredictable, but with advances in our technology we have been able to detect waves above 25’ before they reach shore and alert cities and towns. This one came out of nowhere, and was far more destructive than one would have expected of that height. Truly a tragedy…”
Pacifica was crying. “It hit San Francisco…m-my grandmother…sh-she…she lived there, a-and…”
Lazy Susan ducked out of the room, returning a moment later with a slice of cherry pie and setting the plate down in front of Pacifica, who began spooning little bits of it into her mouth as her tears continued smudging her eyeshadow.
Dipper was just smiling, relieved. “Paz, is that all you’re upset about? That tiny wave?” he asked with a little head tilt. “I caused that. I got like six souls out of that deal, too. It was awesome.”
Everyone in the diner turned to stare at him. Dipper’s smile slowly began to fade as he realized what he’d just said.
What he’d just done.
“Oh,” he said. “Oh. O̻͓̘̭̯̎́ͯh̬̙̾̍ͬ͜͟,͉͓̼̫̰̊ͤ̾ͣ ͈̦͎̦͓̏ͪ̔̃s̥̫͐̀ͥ͜͟h͈̥̯̥͖ͦ̋̇͊̃ͥ̿͠i̠̝ͦ͐̀t͉́̓̅̋͘.̴̯͙̞͖̖͙̗̽̏ͬ͊ͅ That’s…that’s not what you guys think—”
“Dipper?” Pacifica said. Her voice cracked on the second syllable. “D-Dipper, you…”
Her aura was now simply a flashing, boiling red. She was furious. He unconsciously reached out to her mind to try and calm her down, but his normally accepted gesture was being rejected on instinct.
“You did this! You fucking murderer! How could you?!” Pacifica screamed, launching herself at Dipper.
He managed to blip out of the booth before she tackled him, and she crashed into the wall. All of her emotions suddenly vanished, replaced with just…black. Nothing. Nothing at all.
Pacifica curled her hands into fists, sobbing silently, as the truth of what he had done hit him fully.
He had killed thousands of people without remorse.