Roleplay

Bill withdrew his hand, looking injured. "She's your sister. You should share. And I'm not going back in there, no way, not for love and not for—well, not for love. They looked ready to start shooting as it was."

Clearly, into the brief silence, came Stanley's voice: "Would you rather I have left you there?"

"Matrix could go," Bill suggested cheerfully, after a moment's contemplation. "No one likes him. Except Mabel, who likes everyone equally, so I rest my case. I looked great, thank you. I don't need this kind of abuse."

(( I'm tempted to steal Pi because I totes secretly ship her and Stan and/or spring Ford's demon on him now because I love these crotchety old men so much and I want to interact with them but I also love Vis and dammit I want to see Ford going crazier first UGH SO TORN ))

"She can take her own. You'd just eat it yourself!" He offered the remaining eggs to his sister, glaring at the demon.

"Hey plenty of people like me!" Dot protested. "Yeah I like you better that him." Dipper immediately agreed.

"I would not," Bill began, sharply, "have eaten your sweet sister's breakfast ... probably," he added, weakening his own argument. "They didn't smell as good as the meat." Morality made no sound collapsing, it seemed.

"Anyway, if I'd have wanted your eggs, I'd have taken them. Call me crazy, but the concept of eating unborn creatures just doesn't appeal." He lifted a hand, fingers outspread, as though to ward off the cries of protest that weren't forthcoming. "Barnyard animals have at least experienced the world, and only go screaming to their slaughter because they don't know any better."

Silence fell, and broke several bones.

"D'you suppose they've killed each other by now?" Bill asked brightly.

Dipper threw a coaster from the nearby table at the demon, and Dot frowned accordingly. "Very funny. You can see we're all dying of laughter."

"Maybe I would have," Ford snapped, and wasn't sure if he regretted it when Stan reared back as if he had been hit. He watched his brother clench his fists and then relax them several times over. He half wondered if it was all just an act to get him off of Stan's back, while the other half doubted that even Stan could act that well.

It rankled at him that he couldn't trust his brother as much as he wanted needed to. He had already made that mistake thirty years ago.

"I'm going to get Mable some breakfast now," Stan grit out, and Ford carefully kept his surprise from his face. He hadn't notice their niece come downstairs at all. He felt a brief flood of guilt at bothering the kids with their fight, but he shoved it down, firmly reminding himself that Stan started it. Which sounded childish even to him

He stood stiffly as Stan gather what he guessed was Mabel's usual breakfast and couldn't help but be amazed as all the tension leaked out of his brother's back the moment that Stan took the few steps towards the living room. He wondered when he had become the reason that Stan tensed instead of relaxed, and glanced at the table to blink in confusion at the missing mug.

Strange, he could have sworn that Stan had set one out for him....

Stan did his best to grin as he entered the living room, and held the plate of food out for Mabel. "Picnic before we scam some idiots out of their cash today?" he offered almost as a peace offering to the kids for the shouting. He hated the fact that the two of them couldn't even keep it together long enough to be what the kids needed.

The coaster, he could forgive. Dipper ... well, after all, he was still working on Dipper. It was a process. But there was no excuse for Dot. There was no excusing Dot; so Bill began savagely, "I wasn't trying to be funny—"

The exact moment that Stan entered the living room, bearing Mabel's breakfast as his shield, Bill realized that his tenuous control of the situation was slipping. Mentally, he drew a breath, held it, popped his knuckles, and rolled his shoulders. Patience. There's plenty of time.

"Glad to see you're not dead," he said to Stan's profile, a little more shortly than he'd intended. "We were just discussing the possibility, since Sixer seems to have added a permanent sidearm to his apparel since we last met. Did you win?"

(OMG So sorry can I get in now?)

"If you consider ripping the bandaid from a festering wound a win," Pi sighed, lazily floating in. "Honestly, Stanley, you keep getting stuck in that rut all the time."

Then she turned to the two other demons in the room.

"And I trust you two have been well with your charges?" she asked, her eye on Bill the entire time.

(( sure can! :D shove your way in, we won't mind! ))

(Just in~)

Dipper snorted at Pi. He looked at the coaster sitting on the floor next to the demon. "In a weird way."

Dot made an affirmative gesture. "Yep. Miss Mabel and I are getting along quite well. She's very easy to talk to." His eye flickered to her and he sounded happy.