Tag: alcor

After the Transcendence happened, schools started teaching supernatural related classes, right? After a few decades or so, schools started allowing supernatural creatures to enroll and attend school. Pretty soon, one of the triplets -maybe acacia- tells their dear uncle dipper that “the most powerful being in existence should at least have a high school education.” Dipper finally goes to high school.

Mrs. Robinson hummed softly to herself as her latest batch of students filed into the classroom. The start of the school year was always such an exciting time, and this year promised to be as wonderful as any before. The sun was shining through the classroom windows, maintenance had fixed the room’s unreliable clock over the summer break, and the administration had made a deal with the gnomes that had been stealing from the school dumpsters for years to ensure that class time would not be disrupted by their activities. Yes, everything was certainly looking up.

She glanced up at the clock, still feeling a rush of joy upon seeing that it was no longer stuck at 5:37. Over the years, she had learned to appreciate the simple things in life. A working clock was, admittedly, a small blessing in the greater scheme of things, but it was a blessing nonetheless. And, right now, that very timepiece was telling her that she still had almost a minute left to wait before her first teaching session of the school year would begin.

Mrs. Robinson looked around the classroom, examining the students that she would be teaching at this time of day. They all looked so energetic for this time of day, and at least half of them had their pens and paper out already and everything! And the classroom was just about full, though there was still time left for new arrivals; the teacher could only spot one empty seat remaining among the neat rows of desks that lined the room. Her beloved classroom. Soon it would be their classroom- though even her current optimism wasn’t enough to convince her that all of the students would grow to know and love her classroom in the same way that she herself did.

And look, there came the last of the students now, with over thirty seconds to spare before the bell! How wonderful was that?

She glanced over at the student and quickly noticed that something was awry, though it wasn’t quite enough to erase the smile off her face.

“I’m sorry, but you aren’t allowed to wear hats in the classroom here. Can you just stow that away in your backpack or under your desk for me?” Technically, school policy said that even minor dress code violations automatically sent students to the principal’s office and would require them to change into their gym uniform immediately or be sent home. Technically, school policy said a lot of things that Mrs. Robinson had grown to disagree with. It was the first class of the first day of school, and she didn’t want her students to see her act as a strict disciplinarian before acting as a loving teacher. And really, it’s not like wearing a hat in school ever harmed anybody.

“Sorry, Mrs. Robinson. I’ll take care of that for you right away.” The new boy murmured in response.

Mrs. Robinson looked at the whiteboard that dominated the front of her classroom, half-wondering if she had written her name on it already and simply forgotten about it. No, right now the whiteboard was clean, perfectly, beautifully clean, momentarily lacking the dust and marks that always managed to accumulate during the year no matter how hard she tried to clear them away. But him knowing her name wasn’t really that unusual. The Gravity Falls school district was a small one, and even if she hadn’t met the boy personally before, there was a good chance that she’d had the pleasure of teaching one of his siblings or other family members in years past. And indeed, there was something about the child’s features that looked quite familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it.

“Thank you very much.”

She watched as the boy headed over to his spot at the one remaining empty desk, waiting for him to take off his top hat as she had so kindly requested, but instead, the hat just… vanished. One moment it was there, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone, as if it had never been.

Mrs. Robinson’s pulse quickened as it began to dawn on her where, exactly, she’d seen that face before.

She looked him in the eyes… the eerie, black and yellow eyes.

“…Alcor?”

The boy- no, the demon- no, the student, her student now- nodded enthusiastically and gave her a wide grin. “Long time no see, Mrs. Robinson! I have to say, I’m really looking forward to taking this class with you!”

And, as the bell rang and Alcor slid into his chair, Mrs. Robinson could tell that it was going to be a long school year.

seiya234:

If there was one plus side to this whole “my husband has antlers now and occasional horrible nightmares” thing, Mabel thought as she snuck to their bedroom to get the camera, it was that now Henry could touch Dipper like she and the kids could: all the time and not needing to summon him or wait for Dipper to make it on this plane.

Yes, Mabel thought, as she loaded film into the camera (for their 45th birthday, Henry and the kids and Stan had surprised her with a dark room in a little shack behind the…um, Shack), it was wonderful that Henry and Dipper could touch each other now.

She crept back into the living room, where her middle aged, grown ass husband and brother were currently engaged in a super tickle fight. Dipper would seem to have the obvious advantage being a demon, but Henry still had over a foot on him, and knew that Dipper was ticklish as fuck.

Mabel began to take as many pictures as she could to send to the kids.

Yes this was a beautiful sight.

Google search results for “Alcor”

If you click this link, you’ll notice that the first result is the Alcor Life Extension Foundation

Now I want to see fic based off of this

Ask and you shall receive!

———————————————

Sabrina’s eyes started to glaze over as she skimmed through the Alcor Life Extension Foundation company e-mails. Spam, spam, spam… Man, they really needed to get better spam filters. And who fell for those spam messages in this day and age, anyway? Were there really still people out there who were ignorant enough to blindly trust that somebody who e-mailed them out of the blue could help enlarge their penis or set them up on a hot date? Or were spammers so dedicated to their cause that they never considered spending their time and effort in a more productive way?

After deleting a dozen e-mails without opening them, the woman hesitated, her cursor hovering over another one. PLEASE HELP ME ALCOR!!! read the subject line.

On the one hand, that subject line read along the lines of several e-mails that she had already deleted just a few moments earlier… but on the other hand, the e-mail lacked other markers of a typical spam e-mail. There was no attachment that threatened to be a virus in disguise, the sender’s e-mail address was not some grotesquely misspelled version of a real company’s name or a jumble of random words vaguely related to the e-mail’s subject but instead the surprisingly normal (if unprofessional) “yankeepixie”, and it even mentioned the company name in the header.

After some deliberation, curiosity got the better of her. Sabrina opened the e-mail.

The e-mail’s contents only served to further increase the mystery behind the message’s arrival.

Please please PLEASE help me Alcor!!! I have leukemia and the doctors say I only have a few months longer to live and I don’t want to die I’m only 13!!! Please make a deal with me, I’ll give you anything you want, just DON’T LET ME DIE!!!!!! T_T

Sabrina sighed. The e-mail might not have been spam, but given how little sense it made and how irrelevant it appeared to be for the company, it might as well have been. Still, she figured it couldn’t hurt to send a reply message.

Dear YankeePixie,

Thank you for your message. Unfortunately, Alcor Life Extension Foundation is unable to accept minors as members at this time. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Sincerely,

Sabrina Rivera

Front Office Administrator

Alcor Life Extension Foundation

She sent the e-mail off, and her mind soon drifted towards other things… until, a few hours later, the next e-mail came.

This one was entitled Alcor please help my husband:

Alcor,

My husband and I were recently in a car accident, and while I escaped with only a broken leg, he’s been in and out of a coma since. Please, if there’s any way you could extend his life, even by just a few more months, I would be incredibly grateful. Our daughter’s wedding is in six weeks, and I know we would all be heartbroken if he passed away before then! Whatever the cost, I know it would be worth it.

-Tamara

Even then, Sabrina didn’t quite make the connection. It sounded like somebody had just gotten the meaning of “life extension” confused again. Didn’t anybody read the FAQ these days? Seriously, people were getting dumber and lazier by the day…

Over the next few weeks, the front office received an ever-increasing number of messages, letters soon becoming almost as numerous as the e-mails, all from people who asked not about future cryogenic freezing but about having longer lifespans right now. The woman soon realized that something was wrong, but she first assumed it was some misstep in their latest marketing campaign, something that she would have to bring up to Carl when he came back from his vacation to Aruba. Sabrina began to treat the messages as spam when she was able to identify them right off the bat, because they provided equally nonexistent value to their company, but it was harder to identify the letters at a glance, so she still had to open each and every one just in case this one contained an actual inquiry.

It was the letters, therefore, that tipped her off to the actual problem.

Few of them had used the full title of their organization, “Alcor Life Extension Foundation”, when addressing them, but Sabrina had initially assumed that their being referred to as simply “Alcor” was just a misguided attempt at familiarity. But then other messages, far from using the organization’s proper name, referenced what sounded like a different entity altogether.

Alcor the demon. Alcor the Dreambender.

On a whim, the woman decided to Google the name “Alcor”, to see whether she could find the source of the odd messages that way.

Sabrina smiled as she saw that the front page of the website for their organization still topped the list of the Google search results. A couple of others referenced the organization, while the Wikipedia page for the star which was the foundation’s namesake remained in the top ten. (The star Alcor was supposedly “a test for clear vision”, as the foundation’s mission page phrased it, though the woman sometimes wondered if its other moniker of “the forgotten one” wasn’t more appropriate given how the media had been overlooking their work in the years since the Transcendence.) But in between… there were several demonology pages referencing an entirely different Alcor. An Alcor who was a demon, an Alcor who called himself Alcor the Dreambender.

Sabrina’s heart raced as she read through the information about this other, new Alcor and realized who the strange messages had been meant to reach all along. She began printing out page after page, her usual concern about Paul’s lambasting her for using up too much of the company’s paper and ink now far from her mind, gathering them up together and stuffing them into a dirty black binder that had been gathering dust in the corner of Sabrina’s desk ever since she could remember. She ran across the building, clutching the binder to her chest as if it were her child, and banged on the door of the foundation president’s office, barely noticing the white flecks of paint that fell off with every hit.

The door slowly squeezed open, revealing a rotund figure in a brown business suit.

“Sabrina, what’s going on?”

The woman thrust the binder into the president’s hands. “This. This is what’s going on.”

The man sat back in his plush chair while Sabrina remained standing, absentmindedly tapping out a pattern with her foot. With every page he flipped, his face grew paler and paler, and by the time he shut the binder again, he resembled a caricature of a ghost more than a living, breathing human being.

“Oh my.” He breathed.

“So. Max. What should we do about this?”

The two locked eyes. “Well, since you discovered… all this, I suppose you might have some ideas for me.”

Sabrina broke into a thin, nervous smile. “Actually, yes. As I see it, you have three main options here.”

The president waved his hand around lazily. “Go on.”

The woman held up one finger. “The first option is, we pretend like we never noticed this and go on as we have been. Dealing with all those messages might be frustrating, but it’d certainly be the easiest and most straightforward option for us to implement.”

He cleared his throat. “Right, right.”

She held up a second finger. “The second option is, we change our company name to something else, something that avoids us being associated with this new demon figure. I know that would require a lot of work on our part, and it might lead to some confusion among members and non-members alike, but it might be the only way of establishing ourselves as separate from this other Alcor for good.”

The president nodded slightly. “I understand. It’s certainly a lot to think about. But then… what, pray tell, is the third option?”

Sabrina held up another finger, and her foot tapping grew louder and faster. “The third option is…” The woman silenced her foot and flashed the president a wide, though still thin, smile. “We find this demon who calls himself Alcor, and we make ourselves a deal.”

Google search results for “Alcor”

Mythologically speaking, certain spices (rosemary and oregano, for instance) are said to repel demons. Maybe a rumor starts that the reason Alcor hates scented candles so much is that cinnamon is one of the spices that repels him. Cue cults now using cinnamon as Alcor repellent. It totally works, but only because Dipper has been summoned with store-bought scented candles so many times that he now cannot STAND the smell of cinnamon.

Oh.

Oh my lord.

That is brilliant.