the boogielife, episode two

[boogerman]

Pitch has settled in quite well into life in the castle, slowly collecting things from here and there to entertain himself during the daytime. Sketchbooks and charcoal, for him to doodle with. Candies. Library books to read, puzzle books to solve. He's still bored, but it's a small price to pay for a bit of peace while it lasts and a chance to regain some strength.

He's quickly growing stronger from belief and the power of fear he goes out to gather each night. He can stand a bit of daylight, if he wants to go fetch a new book or some such thing. The only way to possibly stop him would be to get rid of all shadows in the library... or whichever area of the castle he's decided to visit. (The garden is still right out, before sunset. Ow ouchies.)

He's also found the nightmare sand to spare to fashion himself extra padlocks on his new bedroom's door*. It's not the best security, really, all it would take is a bit of light shined on them to banish the dark sand away and enter at will. Pitch works with what he has and tries his best, who can blame him? It's only a matter of time before the entire castle puts two and two together, then rises against him, he thinks. He's sure. Fear must always be fought by the Good Guys. There is no hope for the likes of Pitch Black. He can only try to become powerful enough to win, perhaps.

Today, he's wandered into the music room and can't seem to find his way out... by choice! See, there are phonographs, and he may have just fallen in love. It's all very old music by the standards of the year he was pulled to the castle from, and he doesn't give a damn. He remembers when these songs were fresh, new, and the absolute best, and they're so chipper!

See Pitch dance. Dance, Pitch, dance. Turn that music up loud as it can go and prance your rotten black heart out. He's forgotten to lock the doors. He's forgotten where he is--he's purely absorbed, letting down his barriers and simply being happy.

The moment's begging to be ruined, he deserves it.

Or.

Catch him on his nightly rounds, once again. He's trying to lie low and avoid causing any nightmares... sticking to making the ones that occur naturally much, much worse. There are more than enough of those to keep him happy, after all. He always has a good spring in his step, those late nighters might catch him with a bit of dance as he goes along.



After all, who would want to visit him for friendly reasons? No hope. No kindness.

Comments

[dustless]

Frisk isn't going to go out of their way to ruin it. Maybe later. For now, they're just going to creep their way into the room and settle behind a piano.

The music attracted them in the first place, wondering who was playing. But this is almost better. No, this is definitely better. Who expected the Nightmare King to know how to dance? To be so good at it?

So. They're just going to watch for a while.

[boogerman]

Nobody expects this sort of insanity. Nobody really expects legends to come to life and have lives, hobbies, be silly sometimes.

He keeps on boogiein', only needing to stop to switch the songs out, still having his guard down. It's fine. It won't be a problem. If he's caught, he can switch it around to being something terrifying in a heartbeat, surely!

[dustless]

Sure, definitely, of course.

Except Frisk isn't going to do anything that'll make them get caught.

At least not until the middle of whatever the next song is, then they won't be able to smother some laughing. Maybe he still won't notice, if he likes the song so much.

[boogerman]

Up on a footstool, left behind for whatever reason, kicking the air a bit and--was that a giggle?

Surely he wasn't so distracted someone got near him without him noticing! Because every single idiot in the castle has fears and... Oh.

Well.

Shame on him.

He prances his way over to that piano and jumps on top of it. The only way to be sneaky when caught acting the fool, keep it up and pretend you haven't noticed the spy...

[dustless]

They lean back to 'hide' better...

...And then they decide what's the point. He's probably going to find them out anyway. So. Maybe they can startle him.

As soon as that thought crosses their mind, they pop up, slamming their elbows on the keys and leaning their head on their hands. "Hi," they say cheerfully.

[mercybutton]

Music is one of Frisk's very few enjoyments these days. Even with their okay voice, they've taken to singing out their favorite songs, because they haven't got anything to listen to them with. And hearing the old songs just right about makes their heart flutter, especially when they recognize a few of them. Both their bio parents and the Dreemurrs were fond of old music.

Having left Flowey in the garden to have his own alone time, Frisk uses skills long-ingrained in them from early childhood to sneak around, taking off their boots but leaving on their socks for MAXIMUM SILENCE as they creep behind the entrance to the music room to listen. At first, they're tapping out silent beats with the soft tip of their finger, before humming the tune softly from their spot. Yeah, they don't care if he hears them at this point. 'S not like they're doing anything.

[boogerman]

What does it matter, they can't possibly know who he is unless he says something? He can keep on dancing as long as he wants, so light on his feet he barely makes a sound, which is surely covered up by the music.

He can, and he will, amusing himself in spite of the new arrival.

[mercybutton]

Well, they don't mind, and they keep right on humming, not aware it's Pitch Black who's dancing away to the music, and wouldn't have cared even if they knew. Frisk is happy to just accompany the dancing person with some humming. Actually, you know what?

They move into the music room, but not to interrupt Pitch. No, he can keep jigging all he wants. They creep quietly around the edges, searching for a certain instrument as they go around, only being able to hunt by touch. Ah, well.

[boogerman]

Interesting feeling, the knowledge that Frisk knows he's there--he's been noticed--but he's perfectly anonymous and has the freedom to do what he wants.

It doesn't have to be scaring, as he's already tormented this one once. It can simply be carrying on as he was, watching them to see what they're looking for over there. He doesn't dare speak to offer his help, that would ruin the anonymity.

[mercybutton]

Frisk trips over the legs of one or two instrument stands, but eh. The climb past cellos and harps, pianos and a large organ, before finding an old, dusty acoustic guitar. They quietly test its strings, making a face because oh it's so horribly out of tune. But nonetheless, the strings isn't what they're after.

They mount it over their shoulder, sitting down on the floor. They begin to gently thump out a beat on it to accompany the music--guitar isn't only in the strings, you know.

[sansational]

Even if Pitch had remembered to lock the door, Sans would have just assumed it was the castle playing a trick and teleported into the room anyway. He likes it in here, and he was certainly looking long enough for this place that he likes to at least pass by on a regular basis. Just to make sure he still knows where it is, that it won't get spirited away from him.

But then he hears that music, and he grins. Old music, perhaps, but jazzy. He wonders who's playing, and then he's at the door and sees that, to all appearances, no one is playing. But someone is having fun. He just about barely recognizes the creepy dude who turned up outside his bedroom door, but has no proper idea that he went any further than that.

So Sans simply ambles over to examine the phonograph. He's never seen an intact one before.

"so that's what this thing does."

[boogerman]

He freezes at the sound of a voice, and then stills, hands behind his back. Fun over. Ah, well, he had a good few minutes.

"Couldn't figure it out by looking?" he says, with much disdain.

[sansational]

Sans kneels down to better examine the phonograph, though he lifts his gaze at Pitch's words. One eyesocket widens. He sounds equal parts incredulous and amused at that disdain. He's also a little disappointed to see the guy so obviously fold in on himself. Sans of all people didn't want to interrupt his fun quite that much.

"no? i don't know where you come from that 'wooden box with a black disc on it' is something you obviously connect to music." Sans picks up a drumstick, twirls it neatly between his fingers, and taps a nearby cymbol with it. "that's what i usually associate with music. that and, uh, computers." Napstablook all on their own provided most of the Underground's new music.

"what is it?"

[boogerman]

"The 1800s, I suppose." That's a when, not a where, but a when counts. "Long before computers and CDs."

He'll go right on being disdainful, thank you, unhappy his silliness was interrupted. His bedroom is too small for such things. "A phonograph. First thing invented that could play recorded sounds back at you."

[sansational]

"oooooh."

As both a musician and a scientist, Sans is quite fascinated. He crouches down a little more over the phonograph, tilting his head to try and take in more details. "man, life must have sucked for people in the 1700s. but, uh, yeah, this doesn't look like it could survive a trip down a waterfall all that well." And that was pretty much the limit on Sans' access to things, back home - whatever humanity threw away to float down the waterfall into the mountain.

"computers and cds are pretty cool, though. that was this is?" He points at the record. "a big pre-cd?"

[buttercup_eater]

Pitch's happy moment, meet the number one expert on ruining things.

Chara moves quietly, a habit they'd already had long before they became a fugitive from justice, so they have an easy enough time creeping up to the door, to stand in the entrance, without attracting attention. Of course, as a fugitive from justice they know they should be avoiding noise and activity entirely... But whatever. They're idle and curious and besides, they're armed.

With a wooden spoon, and a flinty stare aimed at the shadow prancing across the room.

[boogerman]

Go, Pitch, goooo. For Chara... he's not stopping, except to flash them a nasty toothy grin. Why let the fun be spoiled another time by some idiot child?

He doesn't sound out of breath at all when he eventually speaks. "Butt out if you know what's good for you, you're not invited."

[buttercup_eater]

They watch him in silence, up until Pitch speaks up, whereupon they shrug. Unfortunately for Pitch, Chara is a... contrary person, to say the least. Maybe he'll try and hurt them if they defy him, or maybe he won't be able to, but they won't figure out this particular person's limits without some testing.

"This isn't a private space," Chara replies. "It's not your place to invite me."

They take a step inside and take a look around. Oh hey, a piano.

[boogerman]

"I said get out." He stops his prancing, standing still beside the phonograph. With steel in his voice: "It's as private as I decide it's going to be and I'm warning you."

[buttercup_eater]

They stroll over to the piano, flashing him a grin. "And what do you think you can do about it?" they ask. Kill them, perhaps. Some sort of gruesome fate, they're sure.

There's some sheet music already set on top of the piano, although it's quite dusty- not dusty as in monster dust, dust as in dirty dust- which they briefly scan. Gymnopédie No.1, nothing Chara's heard of before.

[whataprettyname]

The music is actually quite pleasant, and it leads Chihiro to the music room where she hadn't previously known about its existence. She's definitely heard a lot more music around the castle lately, and it makes for a nice change of pace. This time, she's close enough to try and find the source. Upon easing open the door to the music room a little further, she just stops and stares for a moment at the vast array of dusty instruments.

Then Pitch comes zooming back out into the open from behind a harp. Chihiro gasps aloud, taking a step back. Her next thought, of course, is to stammer out: "S-Sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt!"

aw yay!

[boogerman]

He skids a bit, perhaps on purpose to be stylish, and declares himself interrupted. Fun time, over once again. The music keeps playing in the background, phonograph still turning.

Wisps of shadows linger around his feet for a moment, then fade. He rolls his eyes, looking down at her...

"Really, is it all children here?"

^-^ I am trying to play her more.

[whataprettyname]

It was a very stylish skid. She frowns in disappointment to realize that she interrupted him quite that much.

Still, when he turns to face her, Chihiro offers him a tiny wave and a hesitant smile. "I don't think it's all kids. But there's a lot of us, yeah." They seem to do all right for themselves. Then, clasping her hands neatly in front of her, she adds a bright: "You dance really well!"

[boogerman]

"Ah, yes, how can I forget the cat, the goat, and whatshername with the skunk hair." And himself, the anti-babysitter. Two and a half versus one, it's wonderful hunting grounds.

"...How long were you watching?"

[whataprettyname]

"And the elf," Chihiro supplies helpfully. She's seen Tauriel with the two baby skeletons around the place, and overall she definitely seems to be one of better equipped adults.

"Not very long." Not that she would have answered otherwise even if she had gotten a decent look. Chihiro thinks she can at least recognize embarrassment when she sees it, even on a face like this. "I just didn't know this room was here."