![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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!
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)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 10:53 pm (UTC)But they do eventually, alighting with a loud clack on the stone, and they laugh in delight. (Normally, they'd think that maybe this one is new, but their current thoughts are a little unusual.)
"It's you! You're a deer! That's so cool!"
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-01 11:23 pm (UTC)"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?"
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-01 11:35 pm (UTC)They spin a few times for their other to see, culminating in a dramatic pose and lifting their hands up like claws. "I'm a demon! I think."
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:cw gore and body horror sorry
Date: 2016-10-01 10:43 pm (UTC)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.
poor chara :c
Date: 2016-10-01 11:01 pm (UTC)They notice the other Frisk from the edge of their eye just before they're gone, but they don't think anything of it--they don't think anything, period, they just fling themselves forward to Chara's side.
Their hands twitch forward towards their arms, their face, their shoulder, thinking about grabbing them except they can't, Frisk's just going to hurt them worse if they do--
"What's--oh god, oh hell."
What should they do?
sums up their life tbh
Date: 2016-10-01 11:24 pm (UTC)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.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-02 12:21 am (UTC)"Don't what?" they ask stupidly--what does it matter? "We--we--we should find a healing person. Soon. Now. Can--come on?" They tug their wrist, hoping Chara can follow if they're holding on.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:and this is how i learned how to track tags I'm so sorry guys D :
From:/pat/
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-01 11:58 pm (UTC)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: 2016-10-02 12:16 am (UTC)Because that doesn't sound suspicious at all.
No, really, it doesn't--Frisk's voice is gleeful even if there's some obvious crashing-through-bushes in the direction their voice is coming from.
They're jumping, trying to take flight. It doesn't seem to be working--they can try by leaping from a tall tree or something, but they're gonna try that later. They want to figure out if they can get into the air under their own power, and this just results in them jumping every which way with their wings and arms flailing.
The crashing noises get closer as they angle their path towards where they heard Batman's voice from.
They miscalculate how far the bushes extend and bodily arc from somewhere behind him directly onto the path. Chest-first. They wheeze and press their face into the dirt. There's a lot of twigs stuck to their wings. "Ow."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-16 10:03 pm (UTC)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.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-02 12:13 am (UTC)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: 2016-10-02 12:26 am (UTC)Specifically, that squeak. They don't see who it is, but their ears are good, so they can pinpoint exactly which way the person went. They dart over, hooves clopping obnoxiously loud, and peer through the doorway. "Hello?"
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-15 02:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-02 01:08 am (UTC)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 01:17 am (UTC)--alright, they were expecting something weird, but a human--a human Sans was not it.
They're stopped and staring with their jaw dropped, showing their rows of long-sharp teeth.
"...Sans? What?"
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-02 01:21 am (UTC)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)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-02 01:13 am (UTC)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."
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-02 03:17 am (UTC)"Serif...flying's hard," they say, as solemnly as they can manage with such a muffled voice.
TLDR WOW SORRY i'm not good at being super detailed anyway but if this is too gross lemme know
Date: 2016-10-02 04:09 am (UTC)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?"
np :V
Date: 2016-10-02 08:27 pm (UTC)"Um...probably! There are robes around here, I can go try to get you one. Who're you right now?" They want to peek through the door, but that would be rude, and they're also not sure if they should see what's in there for real anyway.
ok cool sorry for all the tldr too also
Date: 2016-10-03 03:00 am (UTC)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."
absolutely no worries--sry i can't match |'D
From:pfft whatever
From:(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-06 06:48 pm (UTC)"Huh. This is interesting."
This bat definitely sounds like Chara.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-06 07:31 pm (UTC)"Oh my god." Frisk's tail flicks around to hover over their body, a silly offering for them to grab onto if they need help. "You're so tiny!" They sound positively gleeful.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-10-07 08:07 pm (UTC)"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."
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:*stickin my leggy out real far*
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: