He's not staying with Bill because he's hoping for makeouts. Ford isn't gunning for graduation because he wants to be kissing Bill Cipher. He very much doesn't want to be doing that at the moment, actually, and if it were tried, it'd get Bill a punch in the mouth.
What it is is responsibility. Conviction that he's the best man for the job. Being in a unique position to make this happen. A vital task he'd thought he'd finished but hadn't. Fear of what will happen if he fails. A need for peace of mind. It's too soon for anything more complicated to take root; it could be done, especially given Ford's relatively recent conviction that it's not too late for anyone to change: he believes that, and he's sticking to it. But it would take work, and right now, Ford's too angry about Stan, about losing, about the other Bill being every bit as much of a fucker as Ford remembers and this Bill going along with it because he likes his even-more-terrible alternate selves, about having to put aside what he wants for Bill to process any emotion but resentment.
"You don't have to, because I can't think of any! Why the heck do you think that after everything you've done to me and my family, I'd even consider--ugh! No wonder you like the other Bills so much: I've never met anyone as full of themselves!" (This is said without a trace of irony.) "Besides, why are you bringing this up now?" he demands furiously. "I thought we were going to leave our lunatic alternate selves out of this!"
"YOU WANTED TO GET OFF THAT SUBJECT, SO NOW WE'RE OFF IT! I MEAN I'M NOT GOING TO ARGUE AGAINST REASONS YOU SHOULDN'T BE TRYING TO PUT MY GRADUATION BEFORE YOURS!"
"Let's get one thing straight, Bill," Ford says, pun entirely unintended. "I've made my decision to see this through, and it has nothing at all to do with a crush. That doesn't exist and never will. Because you're a jerk."
There, okay, fine, now they're done. They can be off the subject now that Ford's had the last word.
"Hm?" Ford catches the ring without thinking about it -- it might have been a grenade, and it wouldn't have made a difference. What is in his hands only registers when he looks down at it and recognizes it.
He scowls. "That won't tell us anything! I might trust this ring in the real world," Ford says, "but in a dream, it's unreliable. You could make it light up whenever you want!" He tosses the ring back. "It's too easy to influence. I won't use it."
"It'll be all right," Ford says grimly, rubbing his eyes. "All we have to do is never bring up anything our alternate selves did or said ever again. That way, we can keep our minds off of parallel universes with embarrassing romantic entanglements and catastrophes that are out of our hands and focus on the mission."
Perfect solution. Never forgive, never forget, but when your tunnel vision is fixed on the goal, it's like it's not there, right?
"THEY'RE NOT THE PROBLEM, YOU ARE! BUT DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT - IF YOU'RE GIVING ME A BLANK CHECK FOR LETTING BYGONES BE BYGONES ON EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN PORT, I'LL TAKE THAT DEAL!"
Bill blinks and the white of his eye goes neon blue.
"Wait, I'm the problem?" Ford asks with a flare of temper, gesturing at his own chest. This feels like a deeply unfair accusation to him, especially considering just how much resentment he is trying to barrel past for a goal that will primarily benefit Bill. "How can you say that when I'm trying to look past how you helped destroy thirty years of work?!" Aren't they on the same page about this? Isn't it better if they just leave that, all of that, in the past?
"YEAH, WE ALREADY DID THIS PART! I QUESTIONED YOUR MOTIVATIONS, YOU TOLD ME SOMETHING THAT WASN'T TRUE, THEN YOU WOULDN'T PROVE IT, AND NOW HERE WE ARE!"
...oh, that does it. Of all the stuck-up self-satisfied clueless egomania--!
Fine. He'll play. Ford holds up a six-fingered hand. There's a flash, and a familiar green ring appears on it. His jaw clenches. "Watch closely." He holds it with the back of his hand facing Bill as he says:
"I'm helping you find a competent Admiral because I need to know you're not going to collapse a universe's natural laws and destroy the lives of everyone in it. Not because of romantic feelings. Which I don't have!"
This is the truth as Ford believes it. He believes it a lot. The ring stays inert.
"There's your proof, Bill. Now, can we move on to things that are actually important, or do I have to say it in Martian?"
Bill looks, frankly, baffled. It's a quick flash of emotion, then it clears - Ford just said himself that the ring wouldn't be accurate in a dream. Sneaky.
"SURE! YOU GET THAT WHEN I GRADUATE I'M NOT GOING TO BE DEAD, RIGHT? NOT THAT I'M TRYING TO TALK YOU OUT OF IT. YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY HELP!"
That's the face of a triangle who is still convinced Ford is pining after him. Or -- no, more likely, just making fun of him. Yeah, that's probably it. In which case, he's just wasting his time. The ring disappears in another flash.
"I know that! But I have to believe that by the time the Admiral -- the new Admiral -- lets you go, you'll have changed enough that you won't be quite so..." Ford pauses, looking for the right word. "...cosmos-cidal."
Oh right! That topic he's been avoiding by needling Ford about other topics instead.
It's not Ford's job, is the thing. Bill assumes he doesn't trust Luke to do it? Or -
Ah. Well, this was an unintentional effect of Bill letting his frustration get the better of him. He runs a little hot and cold on Ford, sometimes. Right now he's pretty sure this is more complicated than he wants it to be. He was absolutely not kidding when he said he doesn't want to end up like that other Bill. Especially now that Ford is a literal spell weakness.
Right. So, the reason we're here. Bill is going to brush off the unintentional reminder of what happened yesterday. (Everything is going to remind him of yesterday for awhile.)
"YEAH, YEAH, WHATEVER. YOU KNOW, IF YOU DIDN'T HAVE THAT PLATE I COULD JUST JAM A BUNCH OF SPELL KNOWLEDGE STRAIGHT INTO YOUR HEAD."
A big leather-bound book with a whirring drill-bit attached to it appears near Ford's head to jab at him.
The drill-bit hits the skull plate with a clang -- Ford winces -- and bounces back a few inches. Ford waves it away and it disappears in a puff of magical glittery smoke.
"Not going to happen," he says grimly. Not only does Ford mistrust Bill by default, the plate was put in his head for a reason, by the Oracle herself. Ford trusts her, no matter what Bill might have to say about her, and isn't going to undo her work. "You can't tempt me with a shortcut twice, Bill. I'd rather do this the long way for weeks than spend one minute letting you back into my mind."
Demons literally only want one thing and it's disgusting.
"DID I MENTION A DEAL? NO. I COULDN'T GET IN EVEN IF YOU LET ME!"
What else can he do here besides runes against spellwork? Wiping all of Ford's memories of Bill might sever at least one link but that's a pretty big chunk to remove and he'd never go for it anyway. Can't change the fact that they're from the same universe, can't change the fact that they've inhabited the same body.
"HMM, SPELLS. ON A SCALE OF ONE TO TEN, HOW BAD WOULD IT BE IF WE TURNED ALL YOUR BLOOD INTO AMMONIA FOR A SECOND?"
"SEE, CLEARLY THE SPELL NEEDED BLOOD! PUTTING THE LOST BLOOD BACK INTO YOUR BODY IS A BAD IDEA - YOU DON'T WANT WHAT'S ON HIS FLOOR TO BE IN YOUR BLOODSTREAM - BUT IF YOU'RE BLEEDING SOMETHING THAT'LL BREAK THE CIRCLE INSTEAD OF ENHANCING IT ..."
Bill drifts off into mutters and turns around to start drawing glowing symbols in the air, checking some complicated math.
"In that case, there's no need to change all of my blood into a caustic chemical," Ford says, stepping up to look over Bill's shoulder at the math. "Just the bit I've already bled out. If we can control the reaction so it only happens when exposed to the open air..."
It would also be a very convenient solution when out of household cleaner. Just drop some blood in a spray bottle and dilute it and he'd be set.
Bill sees no reason to stop this train of logic. All of that sounds fine.
"HUHHH."
Bill rubs under his eye where a chin would be - this is actually a borrowed gesture, he's just doing it without thinking.
"YEAH, I CAN DO THAT! HERE - "
He tosses a whiteboard marker over his shoulder for Ford to catch.
"WRITE OUT THE CHEMICAL FORMULAS FOR BOTH, WE'RE GONNA NEED 'EM TO REFER TO. I THINK I CAN GIVE YOU SOMETHING THAT UNBINDS ROPES AND LOCKS, BUT IT'S NOT GONNA WORK ON ANYTHING MAGICAL OR MANUFACTURED AFTER 2100 OR SO."
There's no actual reason it wouldn't work on those, but if Ford doesn't think it'll work on them, that'll give Bill a way to imprison him again. Never know when he's gonna need another bubble-breaking equation!
Ford catches it and gets to work, scribbling glowing numbers and letters in the air. As he goes, he says, "Yes, yes. That'll be useful. Hmm, how potent should the transformed ammonia be?" he asks, taking a step back and rubbing his own chin, looking the chemical formulas over. "If we make it too strong, it might burn my skin and aggravate the wound it's bleeding from, something I'd like to avoid. Then again, a more concentrated solution might serve as a deterrent for breaking my skin at all."
He's completely serious.
"Luckily, Tesla draws blood intravenously, so this shouldn't affect our arrangement."
"WELL, IF YOU WANT WE CAN MAKE IT SO YOU GOTTA SAY A SPELL TO MAKE IT CHANGE! BUT THAT WON'T WORK IF THEY KNOCK YOU OUT. OOH, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT MAKING IT HIGH-PRESSURE SO IT SHOOTS OUT REALLY FAST?"
Bill dashes off a fast PSI measurement into the spell that is truly, truly overkill and might just kill Ford with fire hose blood loss if he gets a cut.
"Gah!" Ford says with a grimace as he looks at the PSI measurement and has a vivid flash of just what that would be like. "No! I'd lose far too much blood. At that rate I might as well deal with the ammonia burns, because at least those won't kill me!"
Ford pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Unless we find a way to get around the chemical burns that doesn't lead to my untimely death, I'm not sure the ammonia idea is viable."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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What it is is responsibility. Conviction that he's the best man for the job. Being in a unique position to make this happen. A vital task he'd thought he'd finished but hadn't. Fear of what will happen if he fails. A need for peace of mind. It's too soon for anything more complicated to take root; it could be done, especially given Ford's relatively recent conviction that it's not too late for anyone to change: he believes that, and he's sticking to it. But it would take work, and right now, Ford's too angry about Stan, about losing, about the other Bill being every bit as much of a fucker as Ford remembers and this Bill going along with it because he likes his even-more-terrible alternate selves, about having to put aside what he wants for Bill to process any emotion but resentment.
"You don't have to, because I can't think of any! Why the heck do you think that after everything you've done to me and my family, I'd even consider--ugh! No wonder you like the other Bills so much: I've never met anyone as full of themselves!" (This is said without a trace of irony.) "Besides, why are you bringing this up now?" he demands furiously. "I thought we were going to leave our lunatic alternate selves out of this!"
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"YOU WANTED TO GET OFF THAT SUBJECT, SO NOW WE'RE OFF IT! I MEAN I'M NOT GOING TO ARGUE AGAINST REASONS YOU SHOULDN'T BE TRYING TO PUT MY GRADUATION BEFORE YOURS!"
But he's thinking of them.
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There, okay, fine, now they're done. They can be off the subject now that Ford's had the last word.
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Bill opens his hand and the green ring appears in it. The one Alan gave him. You know the one.
He tosses it to Ford. It's a dream. It'll fit.
"WANNA TRY THAT AGAIN?"
A glance over Ford's shoulder again as he says this. Feel free to take both meanings.
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He scowls. "That won't tell us anything! I might trust this ring in the real world," Ford says, "but in a dream, it's unreliable. You could make it light up whenever you want!" He tosses the ring back. "It's too easy to influence. I won't use it."
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"BOY OH BOY, THIS NEW STATE OF AFFAIRS ISN'T GOING TO BE COMPLETELY ANNOYING."
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Perfect solution. Never forgive, never forget, but when your tunnel vision is fixed on the goal, it's like it's not there, right?
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No, really, he doesn't follow.
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Bill blinks and the white of his eye goes neon blue.
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Fine. He'll play. Ford holds up a six-fingered hand. There's a flash, and a familiar green ring appears on it. His jaw clenches. "Watch closely." He holds it with the back of his hand facing Bill as he says:
"I'm helping you find a competent Admiral because I need to know you're not going to collapse a universe's natural laws and destroy the lives of everyone in it. Not because of romantic feelings. Which I don't have!"
This is the truth as Ford believes it. He believes it a lot. The ring stays inert.
"There's your proof, Bill. Now, can we move on to things that are actually important, or do I have to say it in Martian?"
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"SURE! YOU GET THAT WHEN I GRADUATE I'M NOT GOING TO BE DEAD, RIGHT? NOT THAT I'M TRYING TO TALK YOU OUT OF IT. YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY HELP!"
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"I know that! But I have to believe that by the time the Admiral -- the new Admiral -- lets you go, you'll have changed enough that you won't be quite so..." Ford pauses, looking for the right word. "...cosmos-cidal."
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It's not Ford's job, is the thing. Bill assumes he doesn't trust Luke to do it? Or -
Ah. Well, this was an unintentional effect of Bill letting his frustration get the better of him. He runs a little hot and cold on Ford, sometimes. Right now he's pretty sure this is more complicated than he wants it to be. He was absolutely not kidding when he said he doesn't want to end up like that other Bill. Especially now that Ford is a literal spell weakness.
Right. So, the reason we're here. Bill is going to brush off the unintentional reminder of what happened yesterday. (Everything is going to remind him of yesterday for awhile.)
"YEAH, YEAH, WHATEVER. YOU KNOW, IF YOU DIDN'T HAVE THAT PLATE I COULD JUST JAM A BUNCH OF SPELL KNOWLEDGE STRAIGHT INTO YOUR HEAD."
A big leather-bound book with a whirring drill-bit attached to it appears near Ford's head to jab at him.
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"Not going to happen," he says grimly. Not only does Ford mistrust Bill by default, the plate was put in his head for a reason, by the Oracle herself. Ford trusts her, no matter what Bill might have to say about her, and isn't going to undo her work. "You can't tempt me with a shortcut twice, Bill. I'd rather do this the long way for weeks than spend one minute letting you back into my mind."
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"DID I MENTION A DEAL? NO. I COULDN'T GET IN EVEN IF YOU LET ME!"
What else can he do here besides runes against spellwork? Wiping all of Ford's memories of Bill might sever at least one link but that's a pretty big chunk to remove and he'd never go for it anyway. Can't change the fact that they're from the same universe, can't change the fact that they've inhabited the same body.
"HMM, SPELLS. ON A SCALE OF ONE TO TEN, HOW BAD WOULD IT BE IF WE TURNED ALL YOUR BLOOD INTO AMMONIA FOR A SECOND?"
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"Eh, seven or eight."
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Bill drifts off into mutters and turns around to start drawing glowing symbols in the air, checking some complicated math.
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It would also be a very convenient solution when out of household cleaner. Just drop some blood in a spray bottle and dilute it and he'd be set.
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"HUHHH."
Bill rubs under his eye where a chin would be - this is actually a borrowed gesture, he's just doing it without thinking.
"YEAH, I CAN DO THAT! HERE - "
He tosses a whiteboard marker over his shoulder for Ford to catch.
"WRITE OUT THE CHEMICAL FORMULAS FOR BOTH, WE'RE GONNA NEED 'EM TO REFER TO. I THINK I CAN GIVE YOU SOMETHING THAT UNBINDS ROPES AND LOCKS, BUT IT'S NOT GONNA WORK ON ANYTHING MAGICAL OR MANUFACTURED AFTER 2100 OR SO."
There's no actual reason it wouldn't work on those, but if Ford doesn't think it'll work on them, that'll give Bill a way to imprison him again. Never know when he's gonna need another bubble-breaking equation!
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He's completely serious.
"Luckily, Tesla draws blood intravenously, so this shouldn't affect our arrangement."
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"WELL, IF YOU WANT WE CAN MAKE IT SO YOU GOTTA SAY A SPELL TO MAKE IT CHANGE! BUT THAT WON'T WORK IF THEY KNOCK YOU OUT. OOH, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT MAKING IT HIGH-PRESSURE SO IT SHOOTS OUT REALLY FAST?"
Bill dashes off a fast PSI measurement into the spell that is truly, truly overkill and might just kill Ford with fire hose blood loss if he gets a cut.
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Ford pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Unless we find a way to get around the chemical burns that doesn't lead to my untimely death, I'm not sure the ammonia idea is viable."
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