I Am The Eighth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
itstheend) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
castle_perrault2016-11-27 04:21 pm
itstheend) wrote in castle_perrault2016-11-27 04:21 pm
guess who's back, back again [Backdated to three days after their death so... early Nov? Idk man]
There's no sensation of time having passed.
No game over screen, in which a small voice they now hate tells them to hold on, help is coming (it never does.) It doesn't quite feel like reloading. There's just pain, impact, and blackness, and then... sensation. A heartbeat, suddenly roaring in their ears. Their fingers twitch, curl, and then they lie there, boneless, just waiting for the brat to come down and try and finish them off. Their position is prone, but they'd have the element of surprise. They listen, ears pricked, for footsteps, counting their breathing. Frisk is silent; they're straining to hear too.
Could be five, ten minutes. No sound but them. Nobody comes. A red eye slits open, and their head tilts up a little to see the empty staircase. They gingerly push up on fingertips and toes, scanning the room. They're alone. Well, as much as they ever are. There's no pain. In fact, they feel physically better than they have in a while. So much for a vacation.
*They're... gone...? Frisk's thoughts sound as muzzy as they feel, with adrenalin started to ever so slightly ebb.
That's right. Time has wound backwards, hasn't it? They're not here because they will be here. Only... that doesn't make sense. They don't remember saving here. They are almost entirely certain they would have. They definitely weren't in that position before. They grind their teeth when they remember. Castle magic. Three days. They need to find out what precisely has happened in that time.
They stand, fully, and look up the stairs, lip curling a little.
"Coward," they spit upwards, and the word is warped, flanges, sounding a little like it's been put through one of those voice distorters at toystores. It brings with it a twinge of pain.
*Easy, easy!
It makes them think of hands with holes in them and they hiss through their teeth. They automatically bring a hand to their throat, fingers landing on a seam of raised scar tissue which they trace all the way across it. They don't remember that. Maybe not such a coward after all.
They turn from the stairs and exit the room. They have someone they very much would like to talk to, and this time, they're going to pick up a better weapon than a book. Some armor would not go amiss either. And food, yes. The last of their stocks.
They're going to search the entire castle and grounds if they have to, even with Frisk's deliberate unhelpfulness, and an extremely pissed off and newly alive Chara can be found pretty much anywhere.
No game over screen, in which a small voice they now hate tells them to hold on, help is coming (it never does.) It doesn't quite feel like reloading. There's just pain, impact, and blackness, and then... sensation. A heartbeat, suddenly roaring in their ears. Their fingers twitch, curl, and then they lie there, boneless, just waiting for the brat to come down and try and finish them off. Their position is prone, but they'd have the element of surprise. They listen, ears pricked, for footsteps, counting their breathing. Frisk is silent; they're straining to hear too.
Could be five, ten minutes. No sound but them. Nobody comes. A red eye slits open, and their head tilts up a little to see the empty staircase. They gingerly push up on fingertips and toes, scanning the room. They're alone. Well, as much as they ever are. There's no pain. In fact, they feel physically better than they have in a while. So much for a vacation.
*They're... gone...? Frisk's thoughts sound as muzzy as they feel, with adrenalin started to ever so slightly ebb.
That's right. Time has wound backwards, hasn't it? They're not here because they will be here. Only... that doesn't make sense. They don't remember saving here. They are almost entirely certain they would have. They definitely weren't in that position before. They grind their teeth when they remember. Castle magic. Three days. They need to find out what precisely has happened in that time.
They stand, fully, and look up the stairs, lip curling a little.
"Coward," they spit upwards, and the word is warped, flanges, sounding a little like it's been put through one of those voice distorters at toystores. It brings with it a twinge of pain.
*Easy, easy!
It makes them think of hands with holes in them and they hiss through their teeth. They automatically bring a hand to their throat, fingers landing on a seam of raised scar tissue which they trace all the way across it. They don't remember that. Maybe not such a coward after all.
They turn from the stairs and exit the room. They have someone they very much would like to talk to, and this time, they're going to pick up a better weapon than a book. Some armor would not go amiss either. And food, yes. The last of their stocks.
They're going to search the entire castle and grounds if they have to, even with Frisk's deliberate unhelpfulness, and an extremely pissed off and newly alive Chara can be found pretty much anywhere.
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The other Chara has closed the gap a little now, and at their voice, Chara flinches a little. Wow that did not sound good. ]
Yes, me! Howdy!
[They agree, trying to push their body faster. God they've been distracted they're slowing down. The other Chara is closing the gap and their body screams at their exertions. They don't falter though, adrenaline heavy in their ears. They won't falter from this. ]
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They give up on attempting to speak for now and, instead, put on a last boost of speed despite their legs starting to screech at them and lunge, thrusting forward with the knife. It's meant to be a warning shot, saying what they can't - stay still. Aimed to leave a mark long and shallow, but not fatal.
*Chara, that isn't going to work! Stop!
Shut!]
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Shit!
[They fall forward onto the stairs with a clack of teeth, tasting blood. They don't even pause to look at the other, already aiming to push themselves up and keep running. Warm blood runs down their leg as their muscles strain but they squeeze their eyes shut and try and lurch themselves forward. ]
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I could -
[They grit their teeth and push past the strained pain. Smile.]
Push you. R̶i̶g̸h̴t̸ ̷n̴o̷w̷.̵
[They have a knife, but wouldn't that be ironic? An eye for an eye.]
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Still, they remain pinned and shudder at the scratchy words. Sounds demonic. The thought makes them giggle. ]
Well don't!!!
[They screech it at the floor really, as they try and wiggle away further, pushing themselves up onto their elbows. They aren't attacking, they aren't attacking they promised!!! Just get away! ]
You fell and that's not my fault! Leave me alone!!
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"Not yo-"
[The word breaks and cracks and rasps into unrecognizability, the rest of what they were going to say lost entirely. It warps into a laugh. It's not a good one. The last time they made something approaching this sound they didn't have vocal chords at all, just magic.
Their free hand is replaced by their foot, still laughing, and they grab the back of the other Chara's collar, knifepoint sliding around to the side of their neck to accommodate it. The noise shuts off as they remove their foot and attempt to haul the other up and start dragging them towards the stairs. Since they're a malnourished sack of twigs that's roughly the same height despite being (unbeknownst to them) older, it's anyone's guess how well this goes.]
I̷t̵ ̷w̶a̴s̴n̴'̷t̶ ỹ̷͔o̷̻͠u̵͔͘r̵̗̔ ̷̣̑h̶͍̾a̵̻̎n̸̝̄d̷͇͑,̵̇ͅ w̵a̶s̷ ̴i̷t̷?̵
[As sarcasm-sweet-soft as their scratchy, flanging, agonisingly raw voice can be made to get, at the moment. The Chara's minds are in alignment on this; it suits a demon. They don't even want to know what would happen if they attempted the red voice right now.]
based frisk: save us.
They're wrenched up with a yelp, hands clasping their collar and bleeding neck and they scrabble at the other Chara's throat as they are dragged. The knife pressed against their throat managed to make them freeze instinctively, and they loose any advantage they might have had. They dig their heels in, trying to run. They don't want this. ]
Shut up!! You hit your head!! I didn't break your neck myself!!
someone rang???
--they hear screaming.
They bolt from the hall they're in towards it, arriving at the bottom of the stairs (not the same stairs 'cause blood stained the cracks in that one even after they tried to clean it) and tearing up them on all fours like an animal. That was faster.
They're screaming too even before they're all the way up there, before they even see what's going on. "Chara! CHARA!"
new life who dis
T̴h̷e̷ stairs s̷̥͒l̵̜̂a̴͑͜s̸̱̔h̴̻̃e̸̡͌d̴͓͆ ̶̌ͅm̸͇̌ý̶̩ ̵͔͛t̶͎́h̵̘̆r̷̹͌o̴̯͆ä̴͔́t̵̀ͅ,̵͙͠ d̵i̷d̴ ̸t̵h̵e̵y̶?̴
[They don't know they were good as dead anyway, given they checked out halfway down.
Suddenly, there's a third set of screaming. It takes them a moment to recognize it as a third set, and not their Frisk somehow getting louder. They twist to look down the approaching stairs at the approaching human, the knife slipping a little across skin. They recognize them. This doesn't concern them at all. They should not interfere.]
L̸̳̟͍͂͜͠E̶̳̝̻̝̪͎͌͗̎̿̑͒̍̆̐̑̈́͠Ą̷̩͚̱̩̩̟̂̓̔̄̾͝V̸̨̢̨̢͕̝̭̖̩̖̲̩̳̜̟͈̽̕̚Ę̸̣̗̳̜̫̮͋́̿̈́͐̿̀̐̿͒͌͊̀
[It's shouted down at them, and instantly regretted. There's a feeling like something hot bursting or snapping in their throat, and they start coughing horribly, bowing in on themself but refusing to let go of either the shaking knife or their grip on the collar. Blood in their mouth. Their Frisk's relief at help arriving rapidly freezes to horror.]
goodbye ears.
Their head snaps up at Frisk shout.
Oh god. They don't call for help, lip twisting in a grimace. They don't want to see scarf kid die, they also don't want the scarf kid to see them die. But hey, look! They're keeping their promise! No killing them before they're killed. Its all fair now. ]
What are you fucking doing here you id-
[They choke as the knife digs in, scratching against vital pulsing veins that make them thrum with panic. Oh, so this is how it feels. They don't think they like it at all. Their shout turns into another yelping whimper they immediately wish they could take back. They cover it up with a giggle instead.
They don't even catch what the other kid says, they're pressed up so close to the other kid that when the wild glitching scream rings, they practically buckle from the noise. Their right ear gets the worst of it, nearly numbing as it feels torn to shreds but the shattering sound. As the other collapses Chara is clenching up, trying to bring their hands up to their head with a scream of their own.
Red voice is a fucking bitch. ]
...full permission for anyone to get frisk killed tbh, tho it'd take quite a bit of work probs
Frisk's at the top of the stairs, standing squarely as soon as they drag themselves to two feet. Not actually thinking about blocking it off for logical reasons, they're just doing that to seem bigger, look impassible in every sense of the word.
What are they fucking doing here?
Chara's voice jolts them, makes them flinch hard and blanch under their complexion, but they don't step away. Or closer. They actually want to do that last bit anyway, but there's a knife at other-maybe-Chara's throat and that's a terrible idea.
"No!" Their own voice is gonna be protesting later, that's for sure. "Heard screaming and you--don't!" Don't cut them open, don't make a voice like that!
Fortunately Frisk has scored enough +ve CR points it'd take them REALLY getting in the way
Their shoulders shake. Laughter. It's just air.
'I don't what.' they say. Mouth. It's just air.
Their eyes widen. They lift their head and glare down at Frisk instead, smile curdling on their face. Looks like, regardless of their personal wishes, option two is no longer available.
...If they tossed the other Chara down the stairs right now, they'd just cannon into the Frisk. Not ideal.
Cut them open it is, then. They can have a matching scar if nothing else. They whip the knife away, a sharp quick motion with meaning plain and the stairs-Frisk as the recipient - go away - before bringing it back up towards the other-Chara's neck to prepare to slash.]
i cant believe they've been fus ro dah'd
A bit of blood trickles from their ear and down their neck. They remove a hand and stare at it, looking at the blood covering their palm. Hurts. Static on the outside, as well as the inside.
They don't even notice the knife past the haze of pain, not to mention hear the sound of it swishing through the air. Sorry world, Chara's kind of disconnecting right now.
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Except for actually forward this time. Just a single step. But it's a pretty big one.
All that initial panic-anger washes from their face, leaving it nearly blank. That's not helping. There's no searing-stabbing in their chest now, just the warm hum of determination.
Frisk's hands are up, clearly empty, see? "Chara, don't. Don't cut them. You don't need to, alright. Talked to them." Though they don't know, currently, if the other-maybe-Chara even listened, didn't start it. Either way. They don't want more blood spilled. Or another body to bury, they guess. "Wanted to talk t'you too, first--couldn't find where you were when you woke up again."
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[So much for replying. It's the only sound they can make right now, apparently. Barely one, aspirated and kind of phlegmy. It's not phlegm.
They know only a few words of sign. Their Frisk offers more, of a different kind, but haha. They can see the trap there. They'd have to let go of their opponent and their weapon.
They give a sharp jerking motion of their head at the advancing Frisk that makes their throat flare up into a coughing fit they bury in their elbow, letting their bared teeth get the message across while they're visible.
The knife does, however, still, settled on the other Chara's throat lightly enough to leave a shallow line, but not digging in. Unknowingly like their other self, Chara doesn't exactly relish the idea of killing them in front of other-Frisk, but they're not entirely above it if pressed.
They spit more blood on the floor, a dark look shot suggesting they don't believe talking would work; either to stop this Chara attacking them, or vice versa.
Make your case, or walk away.]
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Pain, across their neck, they start back with an unheard yelp and a curse, near shouted and slurred without hearing to autocorrect it with. Their horrid accent has never been more pronounced. ]
Leggo!! Get away from me ahahah!! Get away!!
[Its kind of hard to talk when you can't hear yourself speak and are in the middle of a giggly panic attack but they make do. They grab Charas hand in their bloody ones (and they aren't even holding the knife this time hehehe!) and try to wrench it away. There's this hot new thing called running that Chara has heard is all the rage. They're gonna take that option.
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Looking up again, to Chara-and-Frisk (probably-mostly-Chara?), face going back to blank with an edge of slightly pleading.
"You don't need to, you don't. They're not gonna kill you again." They're acting on pure hope here, refusing to let it show on their face at all. They are calm as they can manage. "And--if you kill them then it...it'll get worse. More fighting and killing later, and that's not--you don't need to do that, make a cycle, we talked before you came back, and they don't want that either."
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[Chara's made a fatal error; focusing on Frisk and assuming their subdued opponent will stay subdued. They're used to fights where monsters don't heal themselves and once a name is yellow, it's yellow.
Therefore the wrenching at their knife hand is unexpected and more importantly works; by the time their attention snaps back and they start pressing back, it's a decent distance away from the other Chara's neck. The noise they make is half swearword, half rattlesnake warning as they give other Chara's collar a rough, pointed shake, air forced through their teeth to make some kind of sound. Do not.
Their eyes slide back towards Frisk, their smile gone, replaced by a silent, gritted-teeth snarl. Their attention is uncomfortably split. Though they had the upper hand, circumstances are becoming less and less ideal.
*They're right, you know.
*Remember? We ended it, right?
They huff at the other Frisk, a small puff of air. The knife hand stops pushing up against other-Chara's hands and, barring an attempt to stop it, withdraws. At the same time the hand on the collar slides down to shove the small of other-Chara's back, away. Get distance between them. Chara moves quickly to their feet, stance low and knife pointed forty-five degrees down, head bowed and eyes up.
They look between the two of them, and then hold up three fingers before drawing the blunt edge of the knife across their neck. Third time might not be so lucky.
But for now they can content themself with what damage they've done.
And they owe this Frisk one - this one thing.]no subject
They focus on the knife instead, on immediate survival and are completely surprised when its suddenly jerked away. They're even more blindsided by being pushed. Oh? They guess its over then. They wonder how it all got sorted out.
They managed to prop themselves up on their elbows in time to catch Chara's sign. Grinning, they respond with a sign of their own.
Watch your step!
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(they're pushed, they hit the Blaster, Sans don't die don't fall down their face is bleeding)
--nobody, nobody is dying. Except them, should the worst happen, which it might not be.
They glance at armed-Chara and nod--they look at Chara signing and sign back too. No. Shh. See you.
Frisk can stop them now if they still want to talk, or find them later if you like.
Although it is odd to understand different motions suddenly. Lip movements most don't pay attention to.
...it takes a bit of quick mental negotiation before their Frisk is willing to wryly mentally 'fax' over the movements required, but eventually Chara tucks the bloodied knife back into their belt and signs back to the other Chara.]
Watch your back.
[And to Frisk, who is. Suddenly between the both of them. For some reason. Okay. They've already stood down but if they want to be that certain, Chara won't begrudge. They wouldn't trust them either.]
One chance.
[If the other Chara ever attacks them, any concession they've made here is moot. They're not particularly inclined to stick around their murderer now that vengeance has been shelved (if they ever see their face again it'd be too soon), and they force themself to move away from Frisk and casually take a step down the stairs as if they aren't holding onto the banister for a reason. They are, indeed, watching their step.]
chara's mcfreakin loosing it
I'm just giving em a warning! They took a reeaaal bad step last time and I'd rather not get attacked if they do it again!
[Its just as weird for them as well, understanding the others signs. But they just giggle again, eye nearly screwing shut in awful awful mirth. They lean a little so they can see Chara, head lolling a little to much. Tiny boneless snake child. ]
See you around!!
[A promise, really. They're stuck together so the other Chara might be friendly. They thing their very friendly. Friendly murderer, friendly demon, smile smile smile!! They beam. Their mouth hurts. Yeah, they'll watch their back! They're also watch yours! They don't trust you at all!
God they hate humanity!]
:'> and a lil bit of dissociation on their end to round things off
One chance. That's good. Better than none.
Frisk follows, slowly. Maybe a little less calmly now. Just a smidgen. One hand's on the railing too, but the other's by their side and shaking, now that it's free to. The adrenaline flooding in, or out, they dunno, they barely know what adrenaline is. Their throat's burning again.
"Chara--your voice," says Frisk, dropping down to their own usual quiet. They're not sure how to finish that sentence off. They don't mean the red voice, either, just--their voice, it's gone, and they're sad about that, but they haven't got much of a tone to convey that with right now.
the fallen child trauma layer cake icing
They don't respond, save for flipping the bird in their general direction. They don't look back at them, and so don't see the parting sign. They force their shoulders down, and take another step, grip tightening on the banister. They refuse to let that to be a mark on them, an aversion to stairs of all things. They were fine chasing them up, dammit.
*Just breathe.
Exhale. Another step, focused on their feet. They're hyperaware of the other Frisk's presence behind them, neck prickling, so much so they almost miss the words. They give a sharp shake of the head and an exhalation, pointing up and then jabbing down at the bottom of the stairs with their free index finger. At the bottom, when they're not so busy making sure they get there. They don't want to sign with one hand.
The bottom of the stairs comes both lightning-fast and agonisingly slowly, and Chara doesn't even wait for the other Frisk to get off them before turning to them.
[Their hearing.]
What about it?
(assuming other chara's totally outie)
They pause two steps up once Chara's off, blinking at their hands. "...Hearing?" they repeat uncertainly. Other Chara's? Their own? That second one'd be weird, though.
Everything's comparatively settled, now there's time for their eyes to zero in on the new scar. "...hoped that was a...one-time thing. Castle messing up. Not...you too. Sorry." They mean that they thought their own scar was a fluke, being the first person to actually die in the castle. Maybe it needed another try to do it right with the Chara who killed them.
...There's lots of Charas around now. It's going to get confusing if Frisk ever needs to talk about them.
(checked with the mun and yup)
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hhh sunflowers
remnant of a Lucas that left some on frisk's grave ages ago tbh
that's even more hhhh
:'>
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*writes self into corner* *bluffs furiously*
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