IC INBOX

[charlastan]

"Hi! You've reached Stan Pines' magic phone box thing or whatever. Leave me a message and maybe if I care enough about what you've got to say I'll actually get back to you. I probably don't, but hey! Test your luck! (Followed by obnoxious laughter until the BEEP)"

Text / Audio / Video / Etc

CLOSED FOR BUSINESS

Comments

[mviw]

[He hasn't spoken to Stan or the kids in days. Maybe he should--

"Stanford Pines"... why did he call him again? God, he just--

Oh.

Oh it beeped. Oh God what does he do? Oh God. He didn't want to leave a message. There are so many regrets.]

--He hangs up, leaving a silent weird message of several seconds. AWKWARD.]

[charlastan]

[Stan could just leave it at that, and ignore the weirdo blank message he just got. He's not much of a cellphone guy (or whatever these things are supposed to be) and he's annoyed enough to let the call go to voice mail as soon as he knows who it's from, but...he's a little thrown when there isn't even a message.

He debates it for a couple minutes, but eventually he sighs and calls back. Whether or not Ford actually answers, his message is the same.]

...Uh. Y'know caller ID's a thing now, right Poindexter?

[It wasn't when he got knocked in the portal, but it's definitely been one of Stan's favorite developments in the last thirty years.]

[mviw]

[The return call was... unexpected. It's just about to go to voicemail when Ford finally answers.]

Did you know you're still using my name on your voicemail?

[...As unimpressed as Ford sounds and is, his tone is lacking in both bite and bark. He's as tired as he sounds.]

A STERN VOICEMAIL

[mviw]

[He calls Stan almost as soon as he can get away from talking to Rick.]

I CAN'T BELIEVE-- [Ford coughs and wheezes.] --YOU BAILED ON ME.

How long did you wait after you found out I was gone? Ugh, forget it.

Hey, while we're at it, let's tell Rick every other secret we have! Like that one time you wet your bunk!! HEY RICK. GUESS WHAT? BOTH STAN AND I WET THE BED WHEN WE WERE SMALL CHILDREN!!

[He starts coughing again. Clearly Rick can't hear them. This is just Ford's hot air and blustering anger getting the best of him.]

I hope that dead rat in the bucket comes back and haunts you here.

[HE HANGS UP.]

[charlastan]

[Stan calls back not long after that (after he makes himself stop laughing about Ford screaming their decades-old bed-wetting secrets). He almost doesn't call him back at all, but he has to clear up that first point and at least try to make a case for himself.]

Hey! I didn't bail on you, you jerk! You're the one who got dragged outta Wonderland, so I got a backup plan ready! I didn't know what the hell was gonna happen when you got back-- if you got back, Mr. "I Might Be Dead At Home". Plus, I barely told him anythin' anyway, just the bare bones of it.

[Believe it or not, he does care about keeping Ford's secrets, but Rick's the only other person here who could actually help with the portal.]

So maaaybe I should've waited 'til you actually got back to ask him, but hey! There's a silver lining here! I basically got us an engineer! Just, uh. Don't tell him I called him one, alright? Now calm down before you hack up a lung, Sixer.

[mviw]

[Ford hears Stan out mostly because his chest is hurting and he's trying to stay level. Immediately, when Stan's done, he blurts out:] That's Dr. "I Might Be Dead At Home" to you.

[Hmph. It's a low grunt, indicative of grudging agreement.]

... Fine. I won't tell him you called him an engineer if you promise to stop calling me Sixer.

[mviw]

[no big deal, just calling stan. doo dee doo. NO BIG DEAL. IT'S FINE. HE'S FINE. THEY'RE... not fine. perhaps they will be?]

[charlastan]

[When are they ever fine? But for what it's worth, Stan answers normally as ever - and doesn't avoid the call even though there's caller ID.

(Caller ID! And he doesn't even have to pay for it! This place is like the Ritz sometimes.)]

How's it hangin', Poindexter?

[Admittedly he can't imagine why Ford would be calling. Maybe it's a portal thing? Or he's found something new to yell at him about? Who even knows.]

[mviw]

[Okay. So far so good. Here goes nothing.]

Hey. Uh. Knucklehead. I have some great news! And... I'd like to tell you in person. [He clears his throat.] So... my place or yours?

[voice] late at night and extremely drunk

[wriggedywrecked]

Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Stannnn. Th-The cool Stan. What's up.

It iss, uhhmmm...sixty...seven o'clock in the AM PM and I just w-w-was th-UURRRHRHH-inking. That I got sthum things to say.

Mainly, ffuck you, Stan. Fucck you. And fuck me and fuck, W-Wonderlangd, and fuck portals and, f-fuck, fuck triangles. And fuck you.

You...goddamn fucker. Y-You know I really, I mean, I hate this place. I h-hate it more than space chlamydia. It's ffffgoddamn boring, or it's, it's trying to kill me and the, M-Mortster, that litttttle guy, and you know, like, back home, it's sh-shit pretty much all the time, cause I. I make ssssure it's shit, cause if it's not shit then. Then you uhhh you start getting used to it not bbbllll always being shit and then when it's, it's shit again, then it's, it trips you up and you go falling r-r-r-right in the shit. But at least bagk there I never, you know, I never died or bbbothered. Trustting people. Cause I know better. You know? Rick fucking Sanchez. Confíe nadie.

[Oops.]

Pero, confié en ti. Unnnn poco. Muy poco. Shit. Hold on it's fffffffuck.

[There's a clatter as Rick clearly drops the phone. And then more clattering and banging and then distant puking sounds.]

[A minute or so later...]

Y-You still there? I think I dropped the phone.

Fuck, no me importa.

[There's a long silence, then a click as the message ends.]

[voice] next morning!

[charlastan]

[Stan lets the message go to voicemail because damn it he's trying to sleep, and whatever it is can wait a couple hours. It's the first thing he checks when he gets up though and...well, it's one hell of a start to his day.

He's talked to Ford. He knew Rick was going to have words for him, but he was expecting a huge loud screaming match, because Stan kind of deserves to be screamed at but is also too stubborn to just take it lying down. This is so far off from that and Stan has no idea what to even do with it.

It sure stings a lot more than he imagined it would though. Probably because he never imagined Rick actually admitting he trusted him. ...Honestly, no one ever trusts him period, so hearing it is jarring no matter what language it's in or who says it.

(Confíe nadie, huh? He sounds like a Spanish version of Ford.)

Stan almost doesn't call back. He doesn't want to, really. He could leave the guy a little bit of his dignity (something that Stan knows from experience that you lose almost all of when booze tells you it's a great idea to call someone). But if this conversation's gotta happen, then Stan wants to get it over with instead of waiting for Rick to open another bottle to try and find his words again.]

So, uh. You want try that again with less puke this time? Or is this the part where I just act like you didn't drunk dial me at ass o'clock in the morning?

[voice] even later in the morning

[wriggedywrecked]

[Likewise, he sleeps through the message alert because he's hungover as fuck. And when he actually wakes up the first thing he does is go find another bottle (hair of the dog, Morty). There's this pop song he likes where the singer talks about brushing her teeth with vodka or something and boy can he relate. The only way he's gotten through the last thirty, forty years of his life is by coasting on a constant buzz.]

[So after morning booze and discovering the puke pile and turning on the puke cleaner robot he built for these situations, he checks his messages.]

What the fuck are you even talking about?

[He literally remembers nothing from last night, but boy, Stan's voice is not the voice he wanted to hear first thing in the morning (it is literally like noon or something).]

Oh Jesus fucking God, did I booty call you, c-cause I lose a bet with myself if I did.

text;

[littlestreetcat]

hey old man
i haven't seen you around in a while and some weird shit's been going on, so
thought i'd make sure you didn't like, up and die or something

[ She's totally only texting him because it's scientific fact that old people are terrible at texting and that's funny. And no she is absolutely not making sure he's alive because she cares, she's doing it because it'd be boring without him around. There are too many goody-goodies around Wonderland, okay?

Oh yeah, and there's one more important thing: ]

also i heard you have a cat?? is that true?

text;

[charlastan]

[She is absolutely correct about old people being terrible at texting, and Stan is no exception. She's greeted with an endless sea of caps lock.]

HA! IT'D TAKE A HELL OF A LOT MORE THAN THAT TO KILL ME!

[He's pleasantly surprised to hear from her though - it's not like people text him a ton.]

YEAH I GOT A CAT.
THAT GUY ANDERS GOT LIKE A MILLION OF EM AND THIS ORNERY LITTLE ONE GOT AWAY AND LATCHED ONTO ME.
LITERALLY! I'VE STILL GOT THE CLAW MARKS TO PROVE IT!
ANYWAY THAT JERK DIDN'T EVEN CARE THE THING WANDERED OFF SO FINDERS KEEPERS I GUESS.

voice

[mviw]

[The mess with the tentacle knifebots is finally over and was more arduous than he'd expected--not because of the 'bots themselves, but the people.

Ford rubs at his temples, wondering if this is the best time to talk to Stan...

... He decides he's put this talk off long enough, and briefly pauses to reflect on all the calls he's made to his brother here in Wonderland.

Bill once told him that things change. Well. He was right about that.]

... Hey, Knucklehead. You have a minute? I took care of the robots and Alphys is fine, and I need to talk to you about something important.

voice

[charlastan]

[If anyone had told Stan months ago that the majority of his inbox would be Ford, Stan would have outright mocked them. But...things really do feel different now. They talk more. Stan can joke around with him again. Slowly but surely...they've started feeling like brothers again.]

Did you manage to keep both your feet?

[He has to ask, since it's funny to specify that Alphys is fine and not mention himself. he laughs a little too, but the joke is old and he doesn't let it carry on long.]

But uh, yeah. I'm free. Why, what's up?

text, backdated to right after the Neverland event

[canofwhoopass]

[She... doesn't know what to say here. Doesn't want to actually say it. But she's gonna at least text him.]

I'm totally not gonna call you on that bet about my first event here.
They totally suck.

... You better be back to normal and everything now.

text

[charlastan]

[Coming off of that event's been so weird for Stan, going from being a violent jungle child to being himself again. He does kind of miss not having old joints and not being so fat, but after how rough that event was, he can't even rightly complain. Not when Ford lost an arm 'cause of him.]

YEAH, YEAH I'M BACK TO MY OLD SELF. LITERALLY! HA!

[Hopefully it's endearing that he texts like an old man.]

MORE OF EM ARE LIKE THAT THAN NOT. SORRY KID. THEM'S THE BREAKS.
BUT UH YOU ALRIGHT?? KINDA LOST TRACK AFTER I BROKE FREE BUT NO ONE MURDERED OR MAIMED YOU RIGHT?

voice, late on the 31st

[canofwhoopass]

HEY, OLD MAN!

[She's loud. Like she's yelling directly into the receiver, words slightly slurred.]

You're-- you're a real jerk sometimes, but you're OUR jerk. Oooour jeerk. So don't. Don't let ANYBODY TELL YOU you're not jerk enough. Because. You are.

[She then descends into a fit of giggles, seemingly oblivious that the phone might still be on.]

voice

[charlastan]

[Stan knows that telltale slurring and loudness, and somehow he's not all that surprised to hear it on Wendy. To be honest, the only part that really surprises him is that she'd actually drunk dial him? Is he just a magnet for drunken phone calls or what?

But this one he catches in a timely manner, and...well, she's definitely too young for all this so he should probably make sure she doesn't waste one of her deaths on alcohol poisoning. But mostly, this is just very, very funny. The urge to mess with her is far too strong to ignore, and he laughs.]

Oh yeah? What're you gonna do about it if someone does? You gonna fight for my jerk honor or somethin'?

[(If he's honest, it's probably one of the nicest things anyone's ever told him while drunk.)]

note slid under his door, thanksgiving day

[determinedest]

[They found a stack of cards written a long time ago. A month ago, they think. There's a post-it note stuck to the top, cheerfully proclaiming - "for Thanksgiving!"

They suppose they should hand them out. There's a...a twinge of something when they look at the topmost one. The one that should go to the bed beside them. The empty bed. Their SOUL starts to...ache.

They swallow. They swallow very, very hard. Screw their eyes shut, blink rapidly. Something's off. Something's different.

They feel...empty. Not empty like they have before.

Worse empty.

They have to make it go away. So they make it go away the only way they can think of. They hand the notes out. Maybe if they do that, it'll go away, and they can feel nothing again. Go back to feeling nothing at all.

So soon Stan will discover a card under his door.

On the outside:]



[And within:]

"Dear Grunkle Stan,

Thanks for being my Grunkle! I'm really glad you agreed to be my Grunkle, even if Grunkle Ford kind of made you, LOL! You're really smart and funny, and you guys are the coolest family I've ever met!

I didn't always think humans were very great. You guys proved me wrong.

Thank you for being you!

- Frisk! ♥"

12/25; gift left outside his door

[determinedest]

[Stan is smarter than he lets on, but they're not sure how much he knows about what they've been doing and where they plan to end up. Either way, there's no card or note regarding the parcel that ends up outside his door at some point. There's no indication of who it's from. They trust he'll be able to figure it out, but they also hope that by the time he does, he won't be able to remember them at all.

There's no guarantees, but there's the way things progress to an End.

Like his brother, Stan gets a scarf and hat, both stitched in green yarn. There's letters stitched across the length of the scarf in red yarn:

"Your concern and care will always pull you through."

Green for kindness.

Thank you, Grunkle.

Good night.]

12/25

[naughty_nurse]

[There's another gift at his doorstep. Inside is a first aid kit, a little foot bath, and compression magnets for his back. She's not saying he's old. She's not.

Comes with a slice of Christmas cake and a note.]

Merry Christmas, Mister Pines. Thank you for always being so nice to me.

Mikan Tsumiki.

[mothmansplaining]

[Ford Pines is actually leaving his boat to track down Stan. He's going to go all over the manor, probably -- Stan's room, the diner, the kitchen, anywhere he thinks Stan might be likely to be, shouting "Stanley!" the whole time, before finally resorting to the network.]

Stanley!

[charlastan]

[The two of them keep just missing each other.

When Ford's at Stan's room, Stan's at the diner harassing a couple of teenagers to make him pancakes and bacon. When Ford makes it to the diner, Stan's already gone to find Ford at the boat so he can show him the weirdly specific thing he got from the calendar today. And then, when he doesn't find Ford there immediately, he shrugs and wanders off. Hmph. Some good luck charm.

It isn't until he's back at his room that he checks the network though, probably a good fifteen minutes after Ford sent his message. What the heck's a notification anyway? Ford sure seems worked up about something though.]

Hey, there you are! Woah, where's the fire, Sixer?