dustless: (quiet surprise)
[personal profile] dustless posting in [community profile] castle_perrault
Mist snakes its way through the castle halls, reaching even the gardens where the sun should banish it--but it could not even if it were day.

It is midnight.

The leaves are rustling, the wind is whispering, the moon is full and large and glaring orange through every open window. Everything has a chill. Not all, but some of the trees lose their green, disappearing into oranges and reds and browns, and many simply lose them altogether, bare branches scratching against the sky.

The mist keeps going, darker than clouds yet lighter than smoke. It creeps around the beings there, encircling them, sinking within--and then it is gone. Anyone awake to have witnessed it will find no evidence of anything unusual, and everyone asleep will feel normal...

...at first.

This will not last.


Frisk wakes just before dawn. No nightmare this time, even if they don't feel all that much more rested.

They get up and start their wandering through the halls. They itch. Their back hurts, and jaw hurts, and head hurts, and feet hurt. Or maybe ache's a better word, it's not that bad...maybe they did have a nightmare and thrashed around, but forgot when they woke up?

And that's when their back explodes into even worse itching and it feels like their skin's sloughing off and--then they're fine. They're fine. Except they feel the skin still--except it's not skin, because they can see it from the corner of their eye.

It's wings.

Throughout that first day, they're still walking around--they can't sit still, there's fire under their skin that keeps them moving, but they change and keep changing until they don't look much like themselves at all. Seems they're a demon now.

Maybe they should be afraid of this--and they are a little worried, yeah, but mostly they want to figure out how to use these brand-new wings.

//Event time! Characters are transformed into whatever you want them to be--but of course, if someone wants their character(s) to stay the same, that's fine! Even moreso, if you want to but just don't want them to be stuck in another form through the whole month, you can always just delay their transformation for a while.

If they do change, though, they're stuck that way until Halloween is over!


Have fun with the chaos, everybody!

(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-01 10:38 pm (UTC)
mercybutton: (pic#10486403)
From: [personal profile] mercybutton
Frisk isn't the only one.

They'll probably see the wisps of orange smoke that trails in the air, and if they bother to follow, it's apparently left behind by the blue fire that sits between their double's antlers. (They're much larger than Frisk no.1's horns, don't complain about them catching on stuff.)

At any rate, cervitaur Frisk seems to be taking well to their... ahem, new form, happily trotting down hallways like they can see them, humming as they go. The strange staff they wield is slung over their shoulder.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-01 11:23 pm (UTC)
mercybutton: (( •᷅ 人 •᷅ ))
From: [personal profile] mercybutton
"Yeah!" they say, and their voice practically sings. For once, they're looking at Frisk. Really looking, if the confident angle of their head is any indication.

"And you're..." They circle them once, taking in the new features. They recognize their double's voice--it's definitely them. "What are you?"

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cw gore and body horror sorry

Date: 2016-10-01 10:43 pm (UTC)
itstheend: about your brother (what?)
From: [personal profile] itstheend
So Chara is not having a good time. There's an irony in there somewhere, but there's too much pain to go chase after it because...

Bits of them are coming off. Skin and muscle sagging on their frame like it's melting, blood seeping out where it tears and falls and turns into dust. The same dust that they turn and vomit over the side of their bed. This is fine. They deserve this. It's only fair.

There's cold, phantom hands on their forehead, and a low worried murmuring, and a blue and purple blur in front of them. At Frisk's insistent urging to get up (to get help, Frisk says, but that doesn't really register) they haul themselves out of bed by falling onto the floor, getting even more covered in dust, before shambling towards the door and stumbling out into the hallways. They don't know where they're going or what they're looking for, only they're determined to get there, and a ghostly tail curls around them in an attempt to comfort them as Frisk desperately guides Chara in the hopes of finding something that can do anything for them.

It's like this that the two come across the other Frisk; Chara, blood and dust stained, clothes hanging on them oddly in places, their entire right hand and left side of their face exposing shiny white bone and currently blind due to a minor problem of melting eyes. Another Frisk, transparent, floating and with a ghostly tail instead of legs rapidly turning silent and invisible upon noticing the other.

The silence causes Chara's shuffling to stop, and they paw the air a little before leaning on the wall and hacking up more dust. They turn their head back and forth, listening hard.

"Frisk?"

It's not said with their usual controlled poise. Their voice sounds rasping, lost, a little scared and fever-blitzed.

sums up their life tbh

Date: 2016-10-01 11:24 pm (UTC)
itstheend: in a land of wild dissociation (come with me and you'll be)
From: [personal profile] itstheend
"Frisk. Frisk." Chara means to add something else to that, but the words drift from their mind like smoke under the agony of coming apart. Once again they paw out, but in the direction of Frisk's voice - they're not exactly in any condition to realise there's more than one here, and the quietness of the words goes unnoticed.

If their left hand gets a hold on any part of them, they're not letting go, even if the pressure of their grip painfully distorts the remaining flesh on their fingers. Their shoulders relax a little. Frisk is here.

"Don't. Do that." It's a weak anger that they manage to muster, but it is anger. "Where...?" Where should they go? Frisk knows. Frisk knows things.

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Date: 2016-10-01 11:58 pm (UTC)
andthebat: (Default)
From: [personal profile] andthebat
It's very early in the morning when the Batman's out in the garden, the shadows deep and the sky lit with dull blues and pinks. He hasn't been affected by the nighttime mist, but even in the low light it's obvious that the garden has. The trees are finally changing color, and there's a bite to the air that wasn't here yesterday.

As he patrols the garden, absently drifting in the direction of the glass hill, Batman regards these changes with an expression of deep suspicion. After such an unusually long summer, these changes have been brought on unnaturally fast. Or maybe he's just on edge. After all, when he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the hill, there are still several places on his body that are wrapped in bandages.

He turns away after only a glimpse, intending to trace his way to the nearest water feature, but then pauses after only a few steps. His ears twitch.

"Alright," the Batman says, "What do you want?"

(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-16 10:03 pm (UTC)
andthebat: (Fuzzy - Freaked Out)
From: [personal profile] andthebat
The gleefulness isn't suspicious, no, although it's a bit of a surprise how quickly Frisk has recovered considering how recently they came to being eaten. But then again, the incident is probably weighing on Batman's mind more than anyone else's.

More concerning is the crashing noises, which Batman comments on: "It doesn't sound like nothing."

Fortunately, dealing with Robin has given Batman some experience in dealing with hyperactive kids, so he isn't exactly concerned although he does start turning this way and that way, looking for Frisk, prepared to deal with the inevitable scrapes and bruises. It's not hard to keep track of Frisk by the sounds, even if he can't see them clearly through the foliage. A moment later there's a blue-and-brown streak flying through the air and Batman has to hop back so it doesn't crash into him.

He winces. That was not a good looking landing; Frisk's head is down in the dirt and there's something strange and twig-covered attached to their back.

Wait.

Not just attached to their back. It's growing out of them, like another pair of arms. But it's not arms, it's a pair of wings, rather like those of a bat's.

"Frisk! How did-" the words are cut off with a choking sound. Batman's throat seizes, his pulse speeding up. How did you find out? This isn't the first time someone's been turned into a monster by his own negligence, but he was the only one here who knew about the curse, he hadn't thought it was obvious, wouldn't have said anything even if he could, and Frisk had never shown any particular sensitivity towards magic. And they hadn't said anything- but Frisk has a habit of not talking about things anyway, and what else could it be?

The Batman's eyes are blank, seeing two things at once; a child with wings growing out of their back, a teenage girl with a face suddenly covered in fur. He breathes in and out of his nose, willing himself to stay calm. He needs to rephrase his question, get a grip on the situation.

"What did you do?" Besides the wings, they look more or less like themselves... of course, the curse has affected everyone differently so far.

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Date: 2016-10-02 12:13 am (UTC)
tinyprotector: (Holy balls my brother is amazing)
From: [personal profile] tinyprotector
Yukio has been lucky enough not to run into any trouble lately. At least not after that crocodile encounter... Which is certainly lucky for him, but he has noticed something off about the castle today. Something uncomfortable. Something dangerous.

He's been trying to ignore it, trying to enjoy his day, but he can only remain so calm when he runs into a creature of some sort in the hallway. Something with wings and horns and sharp teeth and...

Yukio squeaks and retreats back into the kitchen, praying that demon doesn't notice him.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-15 02:50 pm (UTC)
tinyprotector: (Judging you so hard rn)
From: [personal profile] tinyprotector
He’s been caught! He squeaks again, darting further into the room, unable to recognize Frisk as a friend. Oh no, what did the textbooks say about these demons? They definitely aren’t hobgoblins. He can’t scare them off with a little extra light…


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Date: 2016-10-02 01:08 am (UTC)
sansational: Sans, flailing visibly in shock (Holyshitwhat)
From: [personal profile] sansational
Frisk will probably be able to hear the screaming long before they see Sans. The screaming and the running, really. A scream that goes on for so long that Sans keeps having to pause for breath.

Sans...doesn't really know what he's aiming to accomplish. Just that everything is so very wrong right now that he can't think of anything else to do. Or, well, that's not entirely true. He would normally have taken a shortcut in search of people by now. But somehow, that doesn't seem to be happening.

When Frisk finally finds the source of the noise, rather than a skeleton, they'll find a short and scruffy looking adult human, with a scrap of green cloth tied around his wrist. He stops in his panicked flailing upon catching sight of Frisk out of the corner of his eye. He has eyes now. They are so weird. And at first he flinches back in alarm and a complete lack of recognition...before he takes a deep breath. And that seems to help more than it used to.

"...Frisk?" Even his voice sounds wrong. "Buddy? Pal?"

(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-02 01:21 am (UTC)
sansational: Sans, dangling helplessly in the air and displeased with the situation (Why me?)
From: [personal profile] sansational
A Frisk with...with wings and hooves and horns and oh god teeth...he wasn't exactly expecting that either. If it weren't for the eyes and several other minor details he's learned to notice, even he might not have recognized them. Even as he does, Sans' jaw drops and his eyes go wide, unconsciously mirroring their expression. "Huh?!"

He stands stock still and stares for several seconds. Then all in a rush, he jolts back to life, darting this way and that around them to try and get a look at the full extent of the changes.

"Oh man, what happened to you?" He reaches out to brush a hand over their wing. His fingers feel stiff and dull. "Oh god, what happened to me?" He stares aghast at his hand, and then places his hand over his...chest? Skin? "I mean, I...ow!" Sans immediately frowns, pressing a hand over his mouth, before letting out a frustrated sort of noise. "Why do I have to deal with this thing?"

(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-02 01:13 am (UTC)
antitemporal: Sans-Serif collapsed on the floor and visibly dizzy with effort (A little overworked)
From: [personal profile] antitemporal
Frisk is not the only one to have grown wings. Though they look, perhaps, even stranger in Serif's case. They look like the sort of fluffy fake wings that you might buy in a store and strap on to your back. Except these flutter and move and twitch as he stretches them, getting used to the feeling. Sometimes they feel like they've been taped to his spine. Sometimes they feel like they've always been a part of him. They're white as bone and fluffy as he always imagined clouds to be.

Either way, they're really kind of neat, and he is determined that he will fly.

The wings aren't the only addition, either. A glowing ring of light is hovering over the top of his skull, but that's really more annoying than useful. He could already see in the dark. And Serif hasn't noticed as much, but his eyelights have gone from a pale yellow to a brighter gold.

Really, though, he's just focused on the flying. Frisk will probably come across him balancing on a table, his new wings flapping industriously, just before he launches himself off of it, into the air...

...and into an ungainly heap on the floor.

"...ow."
Edited Date: 2016-10-02 01:14 am (UTC)
trombones: (HUMAN?!!??!!?!?!?)
From: [personal profile] trombones
Waking up wasn't all that strange at first, until Sans noticed a strange sensation on his bones. It was like a weight - barely there, but enough for somebody who's only ever been bone his own life to notice. It felt like something... growing. Which, for skeletons, was a completely foreign sensation, much less identifiable.

For a while it was just that. Sans was confused and deeply uncomfortable, but not much else. After an hour, however, whatever was growing on his bones was visible. Some parts were red, soft, and slowly spreading out. Others were like blue and red vines snaking across his bones. Sans took off his jacket (he shucked his shirt after Croc happened) and tried to touch them.

Then the process suddenly sped up. Soon, muscle and organs were growing on his chest and spreading through the rest of his body. Some parts stayed in place, others bulged out, at first like small little pustules until they ballooned to the right size. The monster recognized a few of them from human biology books. This was a heart. That was a stomach. Both twitching and churning in opposite ways. It was all he could do to focus as he stared down at himself. It wasn't painful. But the billions of new and unfamiliar sensations were way, way, WAY too much. Vaguely, he was aware he was still in the hallway. He crawled through a door nearby.

Another couple hours. Sans was sitting on the floor, leaned against the wall next to his door, staring down at his hands. Skin. Fingerprints. Fingernails. He rubbed short, stubby fingers together and felt every bump, every groove. He squeezed them together, just to be sure there was still bone underneath all this human crud. He brought them up to the top of his head.

Huh. Hair was a completely different thing when it was your own. It was short, curly, and coarse. He twisted them slowly through the tips of his thick fingers. After a moment, the repeated gesture eased him enough that he can think straight.

So... human. He was human now. By some magic of the castle, of course, because what else would it be? Speaking of magic, he realized then that he can't feel his anymore. Right. Humans don't do magic. Whatever happened to him, he traded magic for squishy parts against his will. Welp.

It was then that he caught footsteps nearby. He grabbed his jacket and threw it on... as much as he could. With all the extra flesh, the zipper didn't quite pull up all the way. Whoops. As a skeleton, he never actually cared, but... humans had a thing about being topless, didn't they?

He cracked the door open and stuck his new hand out. At first he didn't open it wide enough, too used to his arms being a lot skinnier, and practically shoved it through.

"Hey, uh." It waved. He waved. Geez, every part of him feels foreign. "Can I bug ya for a shirt or something?"

ok cool sorry for all the tldr too also

Date: 2016-10-03 03:00 am (UTC)
trombones: (HUMAN???)
From: [personal profile] trombones
Okay. Maybe he should have expected that. The sudden sensation of skin on skin (normally skin on bone in a typical high five for him) startled him a little - but then he laughed. Okay. That wasn't so bad.

If anything, he recognizes Frisk's voice - which makes him wonder if he should reveal himself at all. For now, he decides on half-and-half. His hand retracts, and he stays hidden behind the door.

"It's Sans. Hey, kid."

pfft whatever

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(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-06 06:48 pm (UTC)
demonthatcomes: I don't know what I want but my heart is needing (Awkward)
From: [personal profile] demonthatcomes
Smack! Something small crashes against Frisk's side before plopping down by their feet. Twitching on the ground is a painted bat clumsily trying to flip themself on their stomach. Their fingers wiggle and their wings are wide open like sails on a Halloween boat. Their ears wag and they tilt their head to get a better look at Frisk. It's not that they're blind... bats can see just fine, actually. But as this one is learning, echolocation is much more useful.

"Huh. This is interesting."

This bat definitely sounds like Chara.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-10-07 08:07 pm (UTC)
demonthatcomes: I am what you want me to be and I'm your worst fear ('Sup)
From: [personal profile] demonthatcomes
Chara waddles over to take Frisk's tail. They clearly haven't gotten used to their new limbs yet, let alone hang upside-down.

"I still have no idea what I'm doing. What's happening to everybody? And uh... you're some kind of demon now. You'd think that'd be me."

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