Mod K here! I haven’t fleshed out a lot of what happens in their older days; I know that (and there’s an ask collecting dust in the drafts about this) they adopt a couple of non-human kids at some point (after Orange Lilies). I don’t know if they decide to go for trying for a kid of their own (via artificial insemination, or something else), or if their brood just stays at those two kids. All three raise those kids together. They continue to get into shenanigans, though their cult-bashing days (such as they were) stay mostly in the realm of undergrad and post-undergrad for Tora. Bentley becomes one of the best minds in his field. Torako does a lot of jobs relating to demons and inter-species understanding. She’s really good at mediating, and has a couple stints related to that. She coaches hurling in her off-time.
Once they retire, they do some travelling. They pick a place and try to live there for a year, maybe more. Bentley sells trinkets and art and some runic stuff for extra money. Maybe writes a bit. Gets invited as a guest lecturer a whole lot and accepts some of the invites, especially to places abroad. Torako kicks ass well up into her 80s. She does a lot of the talking, a lot of the friend-making. Dipper hangs out and steals all their candy. He grows older. Not really older-older, but he looks the part.
Torako and Bentley live long, long lives. They die within a year of each other. And by that time–with all the people they’ve met, that they’ve forced Dipper to meet or have exposed him to and trust or that Dipper has sought out on his own, with their kids and grandkids–Dipper mourns, but he does not break. Not this time.
And Mizar is reborn, and Torako is reborn, and he starts all over with them–and this time, it’s not to Mizar spending years and years being afraid.
Sugar bombs which are only considered cereal because they’re marketed that way. The grain in them is only there to hold the sweet stuff together and keep it from completely dissolving into the milk. They come in “flavors,” including tropical twist, chunks-o-chocolate, and super sour stars (glow-in-the-dark!), but Torako favors the original. Bentley maintains (from his limited experience) that there cannot be any discernible difference in taste between these varieties because the pure saccharine hit to the tastebuds would surely override anything else.
They’re most popular with college kids and young adults who, upon attaining freedom from parental oversight, feel free to indulge in all the sugary goodness they maybe weren’t allowed very often (if at all) as kids.
Sometimes there are limited edition pop-culture flavor or marketing variants. The one time they came out with an Alcor the Dreambender blend (demonically delicious), Torako ate nothing but moffios for breakfast for months.
And, well, here they are. Not every, but most Mizars. Seventeen of them, in fact. In one picture. Drawn on my iPhone. Over the course of a few days.
I have had so much fun, you guys.
It’s really been interesting just how distinct they all are. How easy it is to recognize at least those of them that have a canon physical desription. Not that I didn’t spend time making sure even those who lacked one or had just a partial one looked different from the others. They all have unique skin tones, and I had so much fun with the hair. Never drawn braids this well before.
You can make a game of this, though. See how many Mizars you can name without cheating.
If you don’t feel like doing that, I’ll leave a cheat sheet under the cut. 😉
@captaingrayface: (I made a short little thing, but since it borrows your OCs to establish setting I figured I’d send it to you rather than post it elsewhere.)
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Bentley was in a foul mood. “Its just annoying, Why can’t she just use my name? It’s always ‘Shooting star’ this and ‘shooting star’ that…”
Dipper hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation until he heard that. “What did you say?”
“It’s Ben’s new co-worker, Toni. She’s got annoying nicknames for everyone.” Torako filled him in.
“And his is shooting star?”
“Yes, And I have no idea why!”
“I do.” Dipper stated, before vanishing from sight without any explanation. Reappearing elsewhere a moment later in his suit and hat.
She froze in fright, when the black clad figure appeared, hovering before her. It took only a glance for dipper to confirm this was indeed the soul he had suspected. slowly he drifted forward, his gaze never leaving her, until they were mere inches apart and he could clearly hear her muttering ‘no, please no,’ under her breath, too quietly to even call a whisper.
She had expected to be attacked, or possessed, or to have her soul torn out, but being drawn into a hug? That, she never could have seen coming. He was surprisingly gentle. Confusion surprise relief and fear warred in her as she tried to figure out how to feel. Then the creature holding her began to speak.
“I’m sorry.” he whispered, “I’m sorry I didn’t look for you when the next cycle started. I’m Sorry I forgot you. I’m sorry I could never say what you wanted to hear, What you deserved to hear. I loved you, Toby, I was proud of you, and I’m Sorry.”
And with that, the dark figure was gone. No theatrics no fanfare just ‘poof gone’, leaving behind an extremely confused woman wondering just what the hell her past lives had gotten up to to elicit a reaction like that from what she was pretty sure was a demon… She didn’t even notice the mismatched name.
Thank you!! This definitely fits with Alcor trying to find his loved ones and connect with them in Bentlely’s arc 🙂
I guess I have a Bentley, so, here. Have a Bentley.
Mod K: link Mod K: they screamin Zoey: THEY SCREAM AT MOMMA’S ASS :V Zoey: OMG the vine of pangur tho, he sounds so concerned Zoey: Cats are so good Mod K: yes yes they are Zoey: Oh god what if Ben and Tora had to babysit a Siamese cat for a while Zoey: Tora would bee SO OBNOXIOUS Zoey: initiating the chatter with a “mmweehh” Zoey: But then she’s also the first to throw a pillow at it when it doesn’t stop for ten minutes (not ON the cat but near it, she’s not that mean) Mod K: ben would invest in quality noise blockers. or make his own Mod K: …..you’re right, she would Mod K: she’d be fine with it as long as she had fun as well Zoey: So Ben is constantly yelling “SHUT UP TORA” “CAT PLEASE” “TORA STOP THROWING THINGS YOU STARTED THIS MESS” Mod K: Ben looks longingly at single tickets to quiet cabins tucked away in the mountains Mod K: knows that it wouldn’t work Mod K: dipper would find him and torako would bribe dipper to take her along Zoey: at one point there’s surround sound and Ben turns to see two cats. Mweehhing at each other. One has a dumb bow tie Mod K: (also, he knows, deep down, that he would last a day, two, before the silence got to him. living without Torako was…when dipper wasn’t there, it hurt, sometimes, being so alone when he shouldn’t have been) Mod K: ……zoey that is beautiful Mod K: and perfect and i love it Zoey: MY HEART Zoey: One of them eventually makes a hasty deal with super Dipper to get the cat to stop meowing for just ONE DAY The cat now prances around the house, making 1 – 2 word comments about its surroundings in a deep grown man’s voice
Zoey: “Food.” “Leave, you abomination” “Food. Smell nice.” “This isn’t for you” “Smell good. Mine.” “NOT yours!” “Butt” “No god no not now while I’m eating-“ "Butt. Itch.” “NO” “lick butt” “NOOOOO”
Mod K: perfect Mod K: dipper cackles all day Zoey: The cat has Morgan Freemans voice Mod K: they do not know why the cat has such dulcet tones Mod K: nor do they recognize that smooth speech Mod K: but it’s just Mod K: so at odds with the rest of it that they can’t Mod K: they just can’t Zoey: No no in their language, so they have to deal with the creepiness of it. Just with Freeman tranquility and sophistication that is obviously lacking in the content of its words Zoey: Imagine hearing Morgan Freeman quietly, in the room next to you, “Poop. Poop done. Smell poop. Dig. I have pooped. This poop. Was mine. My poop” Mod K: No i was meaning their language! Zoey: Oh oh right yes Mod K: just they don’t know that it’s morgan freeman Mod K: it is so creepy Zoey: In the middle if the night, rapid thumping, then: “DEATH. FEAR. THE END IS NIGH. URINATE. DEATH.” and Ben is just like I forgot to turn off the automatic coffee timer Zoey: Imagine the vines that would be on the net if a spell existed to give animals human speech for a short time. People staring at the camera, deadpan, while the most unnerving monologue takes place in the background
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