deercountry | Teenagers scare the living shit out of me

Who: Stanley Pines (

stananigans) and Open!
What: For the first half of the month Stan whines about lack of business due to everyone going to The Red instead of going on tours at The Murder Hut. Then, in the second half of the month, he sheds into a teenage version of himself and says "Actually, fuck this!" and runs off to cause trouble. Also, some closed prompts in comments!
When: All of January!
Where: Murder Hut, and then all over Trench.

Content Warnings: All content warnings for The Shedding Ceremony Prompt, possible mentions of child abuse/neglect, possible memloss discussion, maybe arson

A. THE MURDER HUT (FIRST TWO WEEKS OF JANUARY)

[Ever since Stan re-opened the Murder Hut, business has been fairly steady! A lot of the Sleepers already know his schtick and while a number of them enjoy it, the real boost has been from the locals in town who are delighted to go on a weird tour run by a Sleeper, showcasing supposed oddities from Deerington past and present. Much of the exhibits are the same as they were in Deerington, with a couple of new additions ~~that haven't found their way to the post yet~~. Probably the biggest new addition is inspired by the parasite fish from October - Stan's made a couple of big goofy papier-mâché fish and stuck leg bones under them and labeled them as "Reverse Mermaids", and somehow they've been a hit with locals even though they know the real parasitic truth. It's almost as though humor and levity are useful in times like these!

Well, except for right now. Right now, despite the fact that Madame Generosity's invitations went out to Sleepers, it feels like half the town is looking for their entertainment at The Red this month. It's actually been slow, and despite the fact that he was also invited to The Red, he's stubbornly keeping the Murder Hut open incase anyone does show up - or, so he can whine at friends and family that swing by.]

Where the heck is everyone?!

[He already knows the answer. He's asked this about thirty times in the last few days anyway, whining for the sake of whining.

On the upside, if you're someone who hasn't yet toured the Murder Hut, you'll likely get your own private tour if you stop by! No discounts though. Never discounts.]

B. TEEN STAN (JANUARY 15TH-31ST, WHEREVER)

[By the 15th, all of the above goes straight out the window. Stan wakes up that first morning and none of his joints ache. Sure, the shedded skin corpse is gross, but it's kind of cool too, and more importantly when he looks in the mirror he doesn't look a day over seventeen.

Thankfully his memories haven't been scrambled - that's always a bit of a sore spot for him. Instead he feels like himself, but a younger version that actually has energy. He'll recognize anyone who knows him, but he plans on taking full advantage of this - especially since the shedding didn't take away his powers.

He can be found causing mischief on the boardwalk with his seagull Omen Pollux (who has stayed effectively the same, since he's the same in his head), trying all the food he can, setting the occasional probably harmless fire, and running around doing whatever the hell he feels like doing, because he can! Because he is a bottomless well of energy!

The one thing he isn't doing though? Running the Murder Hut. Fuck that. Fuck that!!! He's got better things to do. If anyone is trying to find him there, they'll be met with a locked door and no note whatsoever.]

C. WILDCARD (WHEREVER, WHENEVER)

[ooc: Got something else in mind? Hit me up! I'll match format, and also if you want teen Stan please specify! All of his teen replies will come from [Bad username or unknown identity: stananigans"].]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Uhh. Hm. Good question."

He still has his old man memories, so it's hard to pin his appearance down to a particular year. For a second he thinks about it, but there's only one way to really know - he has to take inventory.

Stan pushes up his sleeves and inspects his arms, and then pulls up his shirt and does the same thing with his chest and stomach, or at least the amount of it he can see. In both places he has significantly fewer scars - still a couple, but he's missing some key ones he knows are from his time on the road, even if he doesn't remember exactly when anymore.

"...Probably around seventeen?" he finally says, with a shrug. "Something like that."

Ford has no idea what Stan is doing at first, but after a moment it clicks: he's looking for scars, or at the very least some other type of identifying mark. Ford is suddenly reminded of their time in the lab, when he's woken up changed and desperately searched for scars or tattoos or any other indicator of who he was.

It's concerning, but unsurprising, but concerning in how unsurprising it is despite the fact that Ford has never thought of it before, that Stan would be able to inspect and accurate date himself based on which scars he may have had. And when Stan reports his estimated age...

"Seventeen," Ford repeats, in a tone that's both resigned and uneasy. "That's... very young. That's just a few years older than Dipper and Mabel are now."

"Oof. That's gonna be weird when they get up," Stan says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess it's a good chance to really mess with them though."

He laughs, but Ford isn't laughing with him, and so he slows to a concerned stop.

"Why the long face?" he asks, tilting his head. "C'mon, anything younger than thirty is very young to us, right? Don't tell me you're actually feeling old for once."

Feeling old? Ford does finally laugh at that, though it's a tired and half-hearted thing. He doesn't feel old, even though he's older than their parents were when they were actually seventeen.

"No, it's just..." What exactly it's 'just', though, he isn't sure. He doesn't think he can come up with an answer that isn't completely asinine, especially not when he isn't really even sure what's bothering him yet, but he doesn't want to give an answer that isn't carefully thought out. He's left standing there for a long moment before he finally forces something out.

"I suppose... I never really thought about how young seventeen really is."

Stan still isn't really following where Ford is going with this, but it seems more serious, especially with how long it takes Ford to answer.

"Well...yeah," he says, with a shrug. "It was almost fifty years ago for us, so..."

Of course seventeen is young. He's young, and this should be great news, but Ford seems upset.

"Seriously, you alright there?" he asks. "You look like you saw a ghost - and not the kind you're always chasing down, before you get smart with me. You now what I mean."

Ford is not usually a terribly considerate person unless he's in a self-loathing fueled anxiety spiral, and that's approximately what's happening right now. Not being able to immediately place what's bothering his means he's starting to stress out in earnest. That stress reaction, in turn, prompts him to wonder what the hell is wrong with him. He's fine, Stan is the one that has to deal with being transformed. He's the one that has to deal with being seventeen again. He was the one who had to deal with--

"This is how old you were when dad kicked you out, you know." As soon as he says it Ford feels stupid for his choice of words but... hell what else you can say. "Seventeen. That's so young."

Stan similarly has no idea what the hell is wrong with Ford, at least not until he manages to say it. At that realization, Stan's face softens into something like sympathy. To be honest he hadn't really thought about it - or at least, he hadn't thought about it yet today. It's one of those things that crosses his mind now and then and he just sort of mentally swats it away.

"Yeah. Uh. ...Guess it is." he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. "But I mean. We were seniors. We were gonna be out on our own in a few months anyway? So..."

He shrugs helplessly. There isn't a lot he can do to make that one better but he's trying, and probably failing.

"But we weren't out yet, Stanley. We hadn't even graduated!"

And even once they did, Ford wasn't out on his own the way Stan was. To say that his parents supported him is giving them too much credit, but there was still phone calls and care packages and the occasional visit home - things that never meant much to Ford but that he now knows would have meant the world to Stan.

"I just - the age you're at now is barely any older than Dipper and Mabel."

At the time, Stan hadn't thought about it that way. Up until a few days before it happened, he had been fully under the impression that he and Ford would be sailing off on the adventure of a lifetime the second he graduated.

Ford...isn't wrong though. Stan just doesn't know what to say. He pouts a little, and it doesn't help matters - it only makes him seem younger.

"It's still a little older, sheesh." But...that doesn't feel like the right thing to say. "...But, I dunno. You knew all this, right? It's not like any of this is news. Dad threw me to the curb."

It's a turn of phrase, but...also pretty literal. It felt like it all happened in seconds. Their dad tossed him out and threw a duffel bag at him.

Teenagers scare the living shit out of me | OPEN

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