Chapter Text
Dipper made his way along the worn down roads of Gravity Falls, mind racing on the discoveries he would make and document in his brand new journal. He was already planning his project in glee: What font would he use to write? Cursive, like the Author? Or would he write in his normal scrawl, to hint toward his racing, intellectual thoughts? The possibilities were endless!
At last, Dipper arrived at the edge of the woods. He had only one goal in mind: to find a secret thinking-space. The preteen glanced behind him to make sure his sister wasn’t attempting to snoop in his business and to clarify the secrecy of his project before walking off into the woods to scope out the clearings.
Dipper knew going in to this experience that he could not use the Journal in his investigation, so as to prevent accidentally copying his great uncle or having too obvious a hiding spot. That being the case, he struggled to remember which locations he had visited because of the Journal and which ones were from his own discovery. With a frustrated sigh, the preteen continued deeper into the forest in hopes of finding a location the Author hadn’t documented and hopefully ever seen, though that was likely a stretch.
At last, he found a spot! Though it was not what he originally had in mind, it worked splendidly for keeping hidden while being organized. The location in question was a hollow surrounded by tall pine trees and had rocks sprinkled along the floor. Plans for hiding his project immediately sprung to mind: He could hide his stuff under the rocks, which would even protect the paper from rain, or he could hide it all in the trees! Dipper made a note to purchase waterproof bags for extra security, this time without stumbling across his sister. He also decided that he would need a small workspace for his longer days here, which he knew he could pilfer from the attic closet Stan hadn’t looked in for countless years. Nodding to himself, Dipper sat down on a slightly damp rock and began documenting the path to his spot in a complicated cipher only he knew.
Back at the Shack, Mabel was listening to Grunkle Ford tinker with the portal. He had tasked her with organizing certain parts into piles as he provided them to her, since she had mentioned her skill with crafting and having a system: She had made, like, at least 20 sock puppets in three days, which totally proved her talent! However, Mabel was a bit confused by some of the criteria of organization her new grunkle had set forth (“Sort them in piles like this: if they’re part of the frame, if they’re from the middle, if they are small relative to the other pieces, if they are larger in respect to the smaller pieces, and a pile for pieces I specifically say to set aside. Do you understand, my girl?”), and she had therefore messed up a few times, bringing Ford to rearrange her hard work. That, of course, stung a bit, but he always reassured her with a smile and made sure to mention that he was a bit insane with keeping a system, which reminded Mabel of Dipper when he would conduct mystery hunts and investigations of anomalies.
Mabel almost suggested her twin for the job instead of herself, but she stopped herself guiltily. She was selling herself short! Someone was finally acknowledging her for her different form of intelligence, and she didn’t want to lose the connection she had with her new grunkle. She knew Dipper would understand if she reasoned with him, so she vowed to discuss the topic with him the next time they had a moment alone. She knew she could get him to see her perspective; he was, after all, the most understanding person she knew.
After a long day of tracing back his steps, Dipper made his way back to the Shack through the forest. Luckily, he had been in the woods enough times to recognize certain landmarks that helped him to arrive at the Shack in around ten minutes through an inconspicuous location he knew no one would question. The preteen opened the door and walked into the gift shop, where he was stopped by Stan.
“Hey, kid, where’ve ya been? It’s been hours!” Stan questioned, raising a suspicious eyebrow at Dipper.
Dipper plastered a grin on his face and explained, “Just exploring, Grunkle Stan! Just like any other day! I heard a rumor about.. a Flybat, a bat the size of a fly! So I asked myself, could it be a fly the size of a bat? I didn’t know, so I wanted to look for it!”
“Hey, that sounds marketable!” Stan declared. “The Shack needs a new exhibit to really draw in those walking wallets- I mean, kind patrons! Didja get a picture of it?”
“Uh.. no, sorry! I didn’t find it, which supports my hypothesis that it’s actually a bat the size of a fly!”
While Dipper was digging a deeper hole for himself, the Author strode into the gift shop from the vending machine, glaring at the merchandise in disdain; however, he perked up at the mention of a hypothesis on a creature of Gravity Falls.
“A Flybat, you say? Interesting! I did not document that anomaly. Could you tell me what you heard about it? Did you see any signs of it?” Ford fired off, looking more and more excited by the second.
“Um.. well, I overheard it in a conversation in town the other day. They said it could be found in the forest in the shadows, so I decided to go investigate. I tried picking up a trail.. but, well, it rained recently, which messed up the investigation. I was planning on going back out again tomorrow!” Dipper fibbed, sweat trickling down his temple. The preteen felt Stan’s eyes on him, scrutinizing his body language and statements.
“Intriguing! Would you be adverse to potentially documenting the Flybat in photographs or in a sketch? This sounds quite interesting, indeed.”
“I-if I come across it again, I’ll be sure to take a polaroid of it!” Dipper assured. “I’m not very good at drawing accurately, so I wouldn’t want to mess up the portrayal of it.”
“Wonderful! I’m looking forward to results, Dipper. Well, back to disassembling the portal with Mabel.”
Ford punched the code into the vending machine and retreated into the basement.
Dipper made a move to retreat from the gift shop, but Stan stopped him before he could escape the confrontation he knew was coming.
“Dipper, I can tell you’re lying from a mile away. I’m not a con for nothin’! Just don’t feel the need to lie to my stuck-up brother, because he should appreciate you for what you’ve actually accomplished, not for meeting his impossibly high standards. I don’t appreciate ya lying to your Grunkle Stan, but I’ll forgive ya just this once. Now, go show my dumb genius brother what you can do, but this time honestly! Now scram, kid.”
Dipper nodded frantically and scampered off to his room, considering Stan’s encouraging talk. He found it ironic that his grunkle wanted him to be more honest, considering the old man’s philosophy of exclusively lying to others, but he shrugged it off before setting up a workspace on his bed to plan out his next investigation, already submitting himself to a long, long night of work.