High in the Tower / They Sit by the Hour

[buttercup_eater]

((trigger warnings for things like suicide, self-harm, eating disorders, and general mental instability. chara is not a happy camper in this.))

At some point after Tauriel locks them up, Chara falls asleep. They don't remember doing so, nor are they sure how long they sleep. All they know is waking up swathed in sheets and a worn blanket, with the light of a sunrise falling across their face.
 

 

The sunlight pisses them off.

 

Everything seems to make them angry at first, even things that they know on a logical level are inconsequential. The bedside stand with the wobbly leg annoys them, so they smash it against the wall. An empty flowerpot kept on the windowsill irritates Chara with its sheer pointless emptiness, so they throw it across the room, where it shatters into hundreds of clay shards. The spare candles in the closet fall to the ground and make an aggravating rattling noise when they roll across the floor after Chara accidentally dislodges them, so they scrape a few against a corner of the room until they're reduced to nothing more than a pile of wax shavings and wicks, then toss the rest out the window in a fit of frustrated impatience.

 

Eventually they run out of things they can easily break, so they work off their constant simmer of rage by spending the days pacing around and around the tiny tower room, slamming themselves into the walls whenever the urge takes them. At one point they notice a hangnail on one of their fingers and bite it off, and that slowly turns into a regular habit, biting and chewing the skin around their nails until their fingers grow quite raw and unpleasant looking.

 

Anyone who tries to visit them during this period is met with nothing but hostility.

 

They stay awake for long periods of time, silently prowling their room until they grow too exhausted to stand, and then they sleep, restlessly dreaming of dust and poison and chasing and being chased.

 

(A few dreams manage to stand out, however, ones where things aren't entirely awful and, strangely, they usually involve speaking with the residents of the castle, such as Frisk or Grune. Chara doesn't mention these dreams to anyone.)

 

* * *

 

Bit by bit, the exhaustion manages to even overtake the rage.

 

Chara ceases their pacing entirely and stops trying to break the furniture, although they do push their bed right up to the window so that they can sit there and lean on the windowsill. They spend their days watching the clouds drift through the sky and biting their fingers, until one of their guards- a big hairy beast with wings called the Batman- gives them a pair of brown leather gloves to help them stop. After that they work on curbing their tendencies and spend their time staring out the window sans finger biting.

 

And while they don't become amiable, the boredom grows bad enough that they stop putting deliberate effort into driving any visitors away. Watching someone talk at you is better than nothing, they suppose.

 

Chara wonders if that's a sign that they've been in the tower too long.

 

 

* * *

 

They come to the decision that they need to start experimenting. They already know they can't force their way out of the tower, but they know a possible loophole they can test: What happens if they die?

 

Chara's not sure if they will wake up outside the tower or not, but they at least know they don't necessarily wake up in the same location as their body and it's not as if they have anything to lose by trying.

 

Of course, finding a method is difficult. There's nothing to poison themselves with, the bars prevent them from jumping out of the tower, and the guards are careful to keep sharp objects away from them.

 

In the end, they choose a rather passive suicide method: they stop eating and drinking.

 

Any water and food they get given is ignored until Chara's guards turn their backs, after which Chara calmly scrapes everything into the privy. They think they read once that a human will die after three days without water and food- or was that three weeks? Three months? In the spirit of scientific curiosity, they decide to pay more careful attention to the passage of time.

 

Oddly, their decision seems to cheer them up. They start to find little things to keep them occupied. They push their bed back against the wall and save crumbs of bread and similar things to scatter on the windowsill, in the hopes of attracting birds to watch. When they have the energy, they do push-ups. On the occasion that neither of their guards are around they sing snippets of songs they can remember- or even when their guards are around, albeit under their breath.

 

And maybe, just maybe, they receive the odd visitor to distract them from the growing pains in their stomach.