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.
@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 🙂
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
A/N: twO AND A HALF MONTHS LATER, the next chapter! This is set to be fairly slow development, so things are still in that gear-up stage. Also! We get to see a certain Henry reincarnation this go around 😀
Saying yes to
Meung-soo had been easier than Bentley thought it would be. Her reply to his
suggestion, though still a little distant, felt more relaxed, more human, than
the last message. She had also agreed to lunch at Tarannala’s Treasury, though
it seemed that Mikael wouldn’t be coming with her; apparently, he had work at
home and couldn’t make the trip over from Switzerland. Bentley found himself
looking forward to the meeting, oddly enough. He was interested enough that on
Saturday he found himself at an outside table at Trannala’s early, fingers
curled around a tall glass of complimentary, cherry-infused water, waiting for
his Aunt to arrive.
On the table, his phone vibrated. He
took a sip of water, then murmured, “Open, show message.”
The phone expanded with a quiet sshhf, the screen blinking to life
before his messages were selected by the phone’s program. He was glad to have
remembered to set the phone to silent before coming out; the family at the
table next to him seemed very straight-laced, the kind that stared loud
strangers into submission. Bentley shifted in his chair so that his back was
more to them, and read the message.
Oh my god ben
they have the new stars of wood and gold, they have the new swg I’m going to
die I’m so happy.
Bentley snorted,
his shoulders lifting with humor. He reached for the phone and typed back a
quick reply telling Torako that she could buy it if she wanted, but don’t
expect him to read any kind of Twin Souls related drudgery, and he didn’t care
how good the prose was.
Moments later, his phone vibrated in
his hand and he looked down at it.
Hey now, even TYRONE is excited about
it. Tyrone.
Don’t care,
he typed back. And you’re bluffing, he
might not hate Stars of Wood and Gold, but he doesn’t actually like it.
He set the phone
down and took a sip of his water again. Half of the reason to go to
Tarannala’s, he thought, was this right here. Thanks be for complimentary
cherry water. The phone buzzed, twice, and he went to read the message—in
all-caps, so Dipper was borrowing Torako’s device—when he heard his name.
“Bentley?”
Bentley looked up into the face of a
woman he didn’t know. She was clutching the strap of a small purse in her hand,
thin bracelets glinting off her wrist. The spots of light let through the
revolving canopy above the table tracked slow and smooth across the curves of
her wide face and the faux-cotton texture of her light jacket. She had crow’s
feet around her eyes, but he thought that he could see his mother’s nose—seen
only in photos and in the bridge of his own—in the way hers lay on her face.
“Aunt Meung-soo?” he asked, standing
up on reflex.
backup 