* Smells like salty slush.

[bleakdrake]

It stands near the edge. Not for any particular reason; the edge is merely where they first appeared.

She's barely aware of the change, expressions as blank as they could manage. The clouds are close enough to the room in the Lab where it stayed that they're almost comfortable, or at least as comfortable as a mass of creatures fused together and kept from their families (and so losing itself) could ever possibly be.

Anyone else stumbling over them, however, will likely be...far more uncomfortable. An icy-dusty-melting creature, looming in the foggy banks where it'll seem she simply appears despite not moving a step.

The only warning--the only clue that she's even there for those not particularly searching for something along the edge--that they're there is her voice, cracking and exhausted and chilling, drifting over the wind.

"Sn...ow...y..."

Comments

[justletmewin]

Asriel's exploration of the island eventually takes him to the Edge. The closest he got to seeing this much fog in his life was the blizzard connecting Snowdin and Waterfall. He had always assumed that the clouds in his books or pictures of the sky was made of a more solid matter, like cotton candy. He'd been a little disappointed when Chara told him you couldn't touch clouds; he liked his view better. He woke up in his father's garden, not the True Lab, so Asriel wasn't as familiar with the place as he ought to be, nor did he know about the Amalgamates...

His fur stands on end at the sound of her voice, his hands shaking while his eyes become mere pinpricks. "Who... Who's there?"

[sansational]

Sans doesn't venture near the edge very much. He doesn't like the thoughts that tend to enter his head when he does. Doesn't like to consider the possibilities.

It's curiosity that brings him nearer today. The fog seems particularly thick around here, despite the fact that it's still all blue skies and sun overhead. Maybe they're sinking, maybe this is what a storm looks like when it's first building, maybe a dozen other strange possibilities. It couldn't hurt to check.

And so, watching his step very carefully, Sans creeps into the fog bank.

He feels her presence before he sees their shape looming up through the fog. And even just the first feel of her soul makes him stop dead, one hand flying to his ribcage as though to shield his own soul from it. He looks up to see a mess of a silhouette looming out of the fog. He's sure they weren't there before.

Ever since Frisk first told him that amalgams could possibly exist, they've featured quite heavily in Sans' nightmares.

The reality of being confronted with one is so, so much worse.

(So cold so alone so lost where are you...)

Sans has to take several deep breaths before he can even will himself to speak, let alone call out a stumbling: "h-hello...?"

[mediadarling]

"Sn...ow...y..."

Mettaton stumbles mid-stride, only just righting himself in time before he falls. Oh...oh. He knows that voice. After Alphys had told him just how the amalgamates like Lemon Bread had come to be, she'd taken him to meet the others.

Frostdrake...had made an impression. He'd been able to comfort himself with the knowledge that she was back with her family, but, unless he's missed a great deal of going-ons lately...that's not the case here.

He draws himself upright. Well, he can hardly leave her alone. He can only hope she'll remember him.

"Frostdrake, darling, where are you?"