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

[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?

[mothmansplaining]

I've been looking for you all morning! Where are you?

[He peers at the screen, leaning in closer.]

Is that your room? Stay there, I'm on my way.

[charlastan]

[Stan opens his mouth to answer, but Ford's already figured it out. He knows whatever it's about is probably serious, but he can't help rolling his eyes a little anyway.]

Yeah, yeah, alright. Not like I'm doing anything anyway. You gonna tell me what's going on though or what?

[Probably not, but eh. Worth a try.]

[mothmansplaining]

It's too important to explain!

[As he's taking the stairs three at a time.]

[charlastan]

[Yep, that's about what he expected.]

That's not even a little reassuring, but fine, fine.

[He'll see him in two minutes anyway, even if this raises a whole lot of questions.]

[mothmansplaining]

[Stan will hear the sliiiiiide of Ford's boots across the hallway floor as he skids to a halt in front of Stan's door first.

Then, a half second pause for a breath -- and for his coat to catch up with him -- and then a knock.]

[charlastan]

WHO IS IT?

[He knows perfectly well who it is. He's just being a brat.]

[mothmansplaining]

[Ford is in the habit of checking, before he opens his own door. It's a lingering habit from being on a ship full of people who he pissed off.]

Stanley, it's me! Open the door, hurry. I don't know if this thing has an expiration date!

[charlastan]

Alright, alright, hold your horses.

[He doesn't waste time getting to the door though, and gladly lets his brother in.]

So, you gonna tell me what this is all about now or what? What might have an expiration date?

[mothmansplaining]

This.

[Ford pulls the memory jar out from inside his coat.]

If this is what Alice says it is, then we can use it to get your memories back.

[charlastan]

[Reflexively, he shields his eyes from the bright light. It reminds him of the Core, and that whole experience was miserable. But, it doesn't hurt to look at in the same way, so he cautiously lowers his hand.]

What the hell is that?

[Stan says that, but he's looking closely at the jar. Despite the reaction, he really wants to just take it and open it up, or maybe just slam it on the ground. Whatever works to open the thing up.]

...What do we do with it?

[mothmansplaining]

I...don't know. Hold on a second, let me ask.

[And he calls the person he saw using it.]

Alice, is there anything you have to do to use this before you open it? Incantations, preparations, anything?

[charlastan]

[Stan peeks over Ford's shoulder, and makes exactly this face at Alice's description dissolving into weird finger gestures and silly noises.]

Sheesh. Someone's been hangin' out with Mabel too much...

[mothmansplaining]

[No he totally gets it.

Solemnly:]

I understand completely. Thank you, Alice.

[charlastan]

[Ford's taking it seriously, so it's probably the real deal. He knows Ford would never risk it if there was some chance of it taking something else from him.]

Guess that's what we're doin' then.

[It sounds a little too easy, but he's also real sick of missing memories for the second time, so who's he to look a gift shortcut in the mouth?

He reaches out again, gesturing for Ford to give him the jar.]

[mothmansplaining]

[Ford hands it over, as gently as if it were the last egg of an endangered species. He watches anxiously. Please work. Please please please work.]

Gently....easy, now...

[because he literally can't help himself from commenting and giving unwanted cautionary advice when Stan totally already knows this is serious.]

[charlastan]

Ford. It's a jar. I've got it.

[He's firm, but not annoyed. For some reason he's nervous too, more than he was a minute ago. The second he touches the jar, even before he opens it, the light flashes a little brighter. It's warmer under his fingers than it was a second ago.

The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He can't explain why, but there's an itch to open the jar, as though he's completely sure what's inside it belongs to him.

Stan doesn't waste any more time. In one quick move, he unscrews the lid and the entire room fills with light, blinding both of them for a few seconds.]

[mothmansplaining]

[Ford, who had been watching closely, flinches back and has to throw an arm over his eyes. His coat totally flaps like there's a strong breeze, even though there isn't.]

[charlastan]

[Unlike Alice, Stan maintains a vice grip on the jar, and it doesn't go crashing to the floor. When the light clears, he isn't openly sobbing the way she was.

He does, however, look completely stunned. He's still gripping the jar way too hard while he processes everything that's just flooded back to him.

It feels different than it did the last time he regained his memories. That was gradual, after re-learning everything he could about himself and being exposed to all these pictures and home videos. This time it all hits him at once. His memory is being given back. It wasn't burned away - it was stolen and returned.

For a beat Stan doesn't seem to have realized the light faded, but then the silence gets unbearable and he drops the jar just so something makes a noise. He shakes his head, as though trying to shake the last few pieces into places.

There's only one appropriate response, and they're alone so he can say it for real.]

What the fuck was that?!

[mothmansplaining]

Did it work? Do you have your memories back? Do you remember the Mystery Shack, and everything that happened there?

[charlastan]

Yeah. Yeah, thanks, I remember it now. I can't believe I didn't remember it! I put years into that scam!

[He still seems deeply unsettled though, as it really sinks in just how much Wonderland took away from him. He didn't just forget - without the Mystery Shack piece, he naturally filled in the gaps in other ways. He didn't feel like he was missing anything, and he's pretty sure that's even more dangerous than just burning all his memories to ashes. He spent weeks acting like he never got out of that criminal life at all, when really he's just dipped back into it any time he thought it might be fun.

Wonderland didn't just steal his memory. It tried to make him a different person without it.]

...We gotta get the kids outta here, before this place tries turning their brains into swiss cheese too.

[mothmansplaining]

I've been trying, Stanley. But every time it feels like I'm getting close to calculating a trajectory that'll take us out, I just hit a wall.

[He makes a gesture like a curving barrier--an asymptotic graph, or the side of a half-pipe. Something that gets slipperier and steeper the higher you go.]

[charlastan]

Yeah, well. We'll just find a way over it or under it, or maybe just knock it down the old fashioned way. We gotta do something here!

[He knows it won't be that easy though. They both do.]

...We'll figure something out.