Nobody Forgets Bill Cipher

Watch Your Back

     "Dipper," I begin, sitting across from my friend to a cup of Mabel juice, "did Ford talk to you yet about the quaflies and quafliers and what my henchmaniacs have to do with it?"
     "I'll get to that in a second," Dipper answers me, leaning his elbow on the table, "but first, I have a question for you."
     "Yeah?"
     "Why do you keep calling them your henchmaniacs?"
     Oh. Personally, I myself haven't even considered this before. "Uh... Well, I suppose that as long as I still consider them mine, then they'll still follow me."
     "Why are you lying to yourself?"
     "I'm not trying to. I just... I just need that sense of security, even if it's not that really there."
     "So you don't find any security in the Society of the All-Seeing?" Dipper asks, leaning forward with an intrigued look.
     "Hardly any," I reply, fingering the unbreakable chain around my neck. "They'll always know where I am physically, but mentally, they're just as lost as I am."
Almost on cue, my phone dings with an incoming text message:
Hello, Bill Cipher.
This is Sil, if you have forgotten my cellular phone number. My co-workers and I have decided to arrive at your current residence for an update conversation within the hour. I apologize for the late notice. Please prepare tea.
Best regards,
Miss Houette.
"Speak of the devil." I show the message to Dipper.
"Wow, they've got some gut to be planning spontaneous meetings," Dipper remarks, fascinated. He then chuckles softly. "What a funny alias. Sil Houette. So see through."
"I know, right?" I respond. "I wonder if they all have give-away aliases... I suppose we'll find out soon enough." I re-read the text after Dipper gives me my phone back. "Oh. They want tea. I'll put the kettle on."
I prepare a kettle on the stovetop and open the cupboards. It's been a while since I've made tea here. I wonder what brands we have... "Pearl Gray?" I ask skeptically, eyeing the only box of bags of tea I could find. "What the heck is this?"
Dipper laughs. "C'mon, you know Stan is too stingy to buy any real brands- Soos is probably taking after him."
     "Pearl Gray it is, then," I laugh, pulling the box down.
Ding-dong! The doorbell rings.
     "Wow, that was fast," I remark, then turn back to Dipper. "Can you finish the tea? I'll greet them."
     Dipper gives me a short, almost worried or surprised look, but soon complies. "Fine. Go get them. I'll try my best here."
     I walk to the back door and open it. Facing me on the other side is Sil Houette, accompanied by four others.
     The boy to her left, a couple inches taller than I am, looks to be in his late teens or early twenties. His hair is silvery, and his eyes a cornflower blue. His skin is pale, with a slight flush in his cheeks. But... the flush isn't a natural pink... the colors seem to be fluctuating somewhere between a blue and purple color. "Are- are you alright?" I ask. "You look a little... oxygen or blood deprived."
     He looks at me, confused for a moment. Then he seems to understand, and he opens the inside of his hefty coat to reveal vials upon vials of hues of every color. "I work in the sciences as well as my work in the Society, you know." He slips out a lime green vial, pops the cork, and takes a sip. His hair immediately takes on the color. Slipping the vial back, he selects a kelly green flask from the other side of his coat, downs a bit, and his eyes suddenly match the color.
     "Woah!" I marvel. "What's your name?"
"Dan. Dan Gerous." I hide my snicker under a cough.
Next to him is a little girl, probably not over the age of nine years. "A child?" I look Sil in the eye, almost horrified that a child is doing such work.
"Worry not," Sil assures me. "She is with us by choice. We saved her, now she vows to save others."
The girl has wide brown eyes and short, kinky blonde hair. She is tall for her age, almost reaching five feet. "I'm called Terri Fying." This child has a deadly stare. She has seen some horrors. I wouldn't want to mess with her.
"I'm Mac Abre," the man, six foot, late twenties, next to Sil, tells me. At least his name is actually clever. Like, seriously, Dan Gerous? Terri Fying? What stupid aliases! Mac sports a dark brown goatee and shaggy hair. He has a defined jawline and cheekbones, along with some threateningly large muscles.
     The last woman looks to be in her mid-twenties. She looks to be just short of the height I reach. She has dark skin and full lips. Her thick black hair is braided back until it fills out into a frizzy ponytail. "The name's Omi Nous. And before you get started saying how stupid that is, your name's just as bad as mine, so you're gonna have to get over it."
Wow. That was forward. I like it!
A startled shout suddenly sounds from the kitchen, followed by a crash and a pained shriek. I rush to the kitchen, the five others slowly trailing me.
Dipper, stunned, stands next to the fallen tea kettle, the liquid strewn all over the floor. I shouldn't have expected anything different. "Are you..." I gasp, laughing, "alright?"
He flushes with embarrassment, now being watched by me along with six, highly advanced, unfamiliar people. "Y-Yeah," he stutters, gripping the counter. "Just got burnt a little." He straightens up with interest as Sil clears her throat.
     "Bill Cipher, introduce us to this boy," she commands me matter-of-factly.
     "Oh, of course. This is Dipper." Excitement grows in Dipper's eyes.
     A slight smirk plays on Sil's face. "That sounds like an alias if I've ever heard one."
     "What?" I remark, dumbstruck.
     "Ha, yeah, actually," Dipper laughs, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, for my first name, that is. I'm Mason Pines."
     "Pines." The word lingers in the air as Sil repeats it. "And, that is your true namesake?"
     "It is."
     "Then, would you happen to be in relation to Stanford Pines?" The entire group stares at Dipper with piqued interest.
     Dipper looks at me, wanting to confirm if it's okay to share that information. I nod in allowance. He looks back at the members of the Society. "I am. Would you like to meet with him?"
     "He could be of minor use..." Sil ponders for a moment, her finger on her chin. "Yes. Bring him to us, Mason Pines."
     As Dipper goes to fetch Ford, I tell the group standing in our kitchen near the spilled tea, "You're going to want to watch your step, everyone." I express this in an almost joking manner.
     Sil looks me dead in the eye, with no intentions of jokes. "You're going to want to watch your back, Bill Cipher."