guess who's back, back again [Backdated to three days after their death so... early Nov? Idk man]

[itstheend]

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.

Comments

(checked with the mun and yup)

[itstheend]

Maybe they could institute some kind of nickname system.

It's one of their more embarrasing deaths, they will say. Although dying while getting covered in drifting Jerry cheeto dust comes close.

They gesture at their ears. They were close enough to the other Chara to see the blood trickling down. There's still a lag in their movements and brief gaps while the next set comes in.

[It seems I] No word for damaged, specifically. Their Frisk is conversational, not fluent. [hurt their ears with that shout.]

Chara glances at the green scarf. Oh. Well then. They immediately leap to the wrong conclusion... from a certain perspective. [I see. They killed you too.] They find themself distinctly unhappy about that fact, and it's a surprise to them too.

They don't even bother addressing the apology. Frisks apologize for anything and everything it seems.

[dustless]

"Oh. Yeah." They don't know how to respond to that--does that mean they're deaf now?

(That one's deaf, this one's mute. There's a blind Frisk here, too. This'll remind them of hear/speak/see no evil images they'd seen a long time ago, later.)

What? There's several seconds of staring before it clicks. They shake their head quickly, descending the last couple steps. "No, no. Not--them, they didn't do it. I did get my throat an'...had some knife stuff happen, but that was a long time ago." And then that Chara was killed and revived intact, though it was death by monster magic. Maybe that was why.

And at least this one only has one on their throat, Frisk's got a bunch in their back and some on their chest that're really annoying when they need to wash their shirt, always catching on whatever they're putting on or taking off. Not that they're going to say that, that'd be kind of--obnoxious right now.

[itstheend]

(Kids today with their texting and maiming. Chara themself isn't sure if what they did was permanent, or if their voice and the other Chara's hearing might eventually come back.

From the way their throat still feels like the most fitting word they can come up to describe it with is 'crunchy', they're not holding their breath.)

[Who did?], Chara signs eventually after a moment to digest this. It'd be worth knowing, like it was worth knowing about this supposed crocodile they haven't seen so far. They wonder what particular aspect of the Castle's sense of humor meant it healed all wounds except apparently one. Finally, they turn to the pressing question. The other Chara had mentioned a promise.

[What happened after I died?]

They jerk their head up to emphasise the scar on the last word as they sign it. Ow.

[dustless]

Frisk hesitates.

They don't...actually wanna say 'another Chara' to any other Chara's face. It seems. Uncomfortable. Rude and mean, kind of. "Does it matter?" they settle on saying.

Chara shows off their scar and asks their question, and Frisk answers fairly literally. "Found them an' you. We talked. I buried you. And...that other kid when I found him later." They turn partway to glance up the stairs. 'Nother thing they gotta talk about with that Chara, too.

[itstheend]

Their eyes narrow.

[It matters if they are still here.] The movements are a little sharper than standard. Do you feel you have to protect them, other-Frisk? There's the explanation, and a moment of confusion at the 'buried' part, because they very much did not wake up underground (for once) and then it all gets swept away.

*!!
*Other kid!?

Other kid?

[Other kid?]

The other Chara didn't stop at them? It makes them just a little more seething about their 'I didn't kill you it was the stairs' plead. 'Him' narrows it down, but neither of them know everyone in the Castle.

[It seems talking was ineffective.]

An observation. If a murder still happened after. Several assumptions are being made here.

*Who was it??
*Oh no.

[dustless]

They could dig in their heels, roadblock, but. That won't help.

Frisk rocks back until they're falling--no, just sitting on the stairs. They didn't eat, and they were freaking out pretty hard when they heard the screaming. They're a little dizzy, and it shows in how long it takes for them to look at Chara straight on again.

"It...was a different Chara. Really was a long time ago, too. They haven't touched anybody else. It doesn't matter anymore."

Headtilt. "I dunno. There was a lot of blood from...you. Might've missed his, he wasn't at the stairs. The kid in red, with the..." They cover their eye. "Buried him too," they add distantly.

[itstheend]

They both watch Frisk fall-sit. Chara's lip curls at the admittance of yet another Chara's involvement. They are very much not surprised. It's probably the Chara that was a genie, they think. It looks like they're the only one here without a killstreak, not for lack of trying just now.

*That's a good thing!

They shelve the information for now. A decision will be made later.

[Paper boy?] They're surprised and it shows; shouldn't someone with human strength and monster magic be able to defend themself against a Chara? It seems they really are an inexorable killing force when they want to be. [K-U-B-O-?]

Is he still dead, they wonder. Was he killed before or after, as the other Frisk kind-of sort-of points out. They'd demand he be dug up if they didn't already know that, somehow, burial doesn't matter. They make a note to find the graves later.

*Maybe they've got golden flowers on them.

A mental picture, of the flowers the Asriel had been tending; the implication of a Frisk that died prior.

[dustless]

"Ku-bo?" They pronounce it a little like cube. "Dunno. We--I never got to talk to him. Was looking around before...finding you two."

No golden flowers...but there are some. Sunflowers. Resting on Chara's and Kubo's, and it won't be long before the seeds drop into the dirt and start growing.

Their eyes fall back to Chara's throat. "...I can try to get you a scarf. If you want."

hhh sunflowers

[itstheend]

(It's only from Kitchen that Chara has an idea of how to spell it. Otherwise it might really have been Cube-o. If only for the teasing factor.)

*They were looking for us?
*...
*They look tired.

Chara touches the scar as other-Frisk's gaze falls there, thoughtfully. [I am fine like this.] There's a part of them that takes a sort of vicious glee in the idea of others having to fight down the urge to ask, and a sort of 'that's right, I survived this, what can you do to me' pride to push as needed. Nevermind that they didn't actually survive it.

*It's cool!
*Like Undyne's eyepatch.

[The offer is noted.] The closest they're getting to thanks, right now. There's a pause and then they roll their eyes. [Frisk wants to know if you're alright. If there's anything they can do.]

remnant of a Lucas that left some on frisk's grave ages ago tbh

[dustless]

They nod. Entirely their prerogative. Frisk hadn't bothered covering theirs until Grune made the scarf as a gift, and nowadays they wear it more for their own convenience. No, they don't want to explain how that happened to everyone who sees it--and on that note: "Please don't...tell anybody 'bout it. My thing," Frisk says, tugging their own scarf down. Thier scar's a long line too, not quite a mirror of Chara's.

Huh. Frisk starts by shaking their head, then pauses to actually think about it...

...it's not their phrase, and not aimed at that Frisk, but. "Not really. But don't kill an' don't be killed, if you can. It's real messy." Their lips quirk. See, it's kind of a joke. (Not completely.)

that's even more hhhh

[itstheend]

[I do not] A pause. They're disliking Frisk's limited vocabulary here.

*Excuse you!!
*It's not my fault my lessons stopped because... because...
*...I can't remember.
*Just... the words I have work, okay?
*You don't have to use the ones you normally would.

Chara turns away from their tenant's thoughts turning into a large back scribble. They'll work with what they have then. [tell secrets easily.] It's not a guarantee, since they can't forsee the future, but it's as close as they're willing to get to one. They observe the scar, impassively.

At the words, their Frisk withdraws a little. They never heard that version spoken on a flowerbed, only the standard variant. Chara, for their part, solemnly relays, despite a huff at 'messy' that would ordinarily be a laugh. There sure is a lot of blood in a human body, isn't there?

[They say they won't. And the same to you.]

:'>

[dustless]

Frisk waits patiently, fingers tangling together. They know some sign. Not a lot. They'd been trying to learn more in the castle, but they'd lost track of it. Something to work on.

That's fine, they signify with a nod. One more thing that's good enough for now. It's not like they expect it to come up very much, they just didn't want Chara or Frisk to mention it if theirs ever came up.

"'Kay. Good. Thank you."

Pause. They did talk a little before blowing out their voice (a tiny trick of guilt there, they'd done it screaming at Frisk, but not too much), so...maybe there's something they can do about it. "D'you want me to...try making you tea?"

[itstheend]

Chara nods, a dismissive movement. No need to thank them. No, really, don't. The sudden request surprises them.

*Yes please!

...that's one person on board. Chara has no strong feeling on having tea right now - there's things they want to do but nothing immediately urgent - so they nod again, once. They can indulge this Frisk. Neither kid is making the connection between the offer and Chara's damaged throat, so to them it seems like the other Frisk is deliberately changing the subject to offer a distraction, something they have no problems abiding by.

[Lead the way.]

[dustless]

They stand--though it takes just a moment for them to balance on their feet properly--and do so. They don't really talk on the way, both habit and 'cause it seems--weird to be the only one saying anything.

for once, it doesn't take them much time to find a kitchen. (It's not the kitchen Kubo's in, though.)

"Teeeaaa," they hum, digging around for a kettle. They haven't actually made it before, but they watched Undyne do it..."No Sea Tea. Or Golden Flower tea...what kinda tea does the castle have?" they sing-song to themselves.

[itstheend]

*No golden flower tea?
*...aww.

Chara hands are folded behind their back as they walk behind Frisk, and they watch Frisk dig around a little before with a huff of impatience begin to look for one themself, stumbling across and holding out a copper-spouted affair. Hopefully it's not one of the shrieking kinds.

[Any is fine.] They're not picky. They start opening cupboards, looking.

[dustless]

"Thanks," they say, nearly dropping it onto the stove before remembering oh yeah, needs water, so they pivot on their heel and go fill it in the sink instead. Good thing there actually is a sink. Even if it's slow to trickle out water.

"I don't drink it lots, but it helps my throat when I...over-talk an' yell and stuff," they tell Chara over their shoulder, belatedly.

[itstheend]

Chara has managed to locate tea; took them a while because the fact it's in a tin as loose leaf and not in teabags threw them off. But it says Earl Grey on the front, and that's a kind of tea, is it not?

They place it on the bench next to the sink, sliding it towards other-Frisk with a push of an index finger. When the other Frisk glances over their shoulder they take the opportunity to sign before their attention has to return to what they're doing.

[I see. Is the Castle tea like monster tea, then?]

That is, having some healing magic in it, no matter how small.

[dustless]

Frisk shakes their head, neglecting to answer for a few moments. What're they supposed to do with this...? There's no string or anything.

So they just...shove the best-looking leaves into the kettle. By best they mean the ones that looked most like leaves. That was right, probably. If they're wrong...well, they'll just add a ton of sugar after to drown out any weird flavor.

"...I think it's just a thing. Tea's good for when you're sick. If you get food made by a monster, though, even if it's just this stuff or soup or something, it has a little more...good to it. Even if it's not 'zactly Underground magic."

[itstheend]

*Um. You're... you're supposed to.
*Oh. Okay.
*Maybe it has a spout that strains...

Chara watches a frankly ridiculous amount of sugar go into the pot. They're not complaining, but they are very close to making a quip about if this is tea with sugar in or sugar with tea in when the other-Frisk starts answering the question.

[So no HP boost.] That's mildly disappointing. They start to hum and rapidly stop when it jars horribly, a small single cough. Then they make the comment about the sugar.

[dustless]

"No, don't think so. Not much. It's just a sick thing, I think."

They drop the kettle on the stove, finally, and duck down to open the side. They have used the castle stoves before, all the different kinds--this is an old wood stove. Already filled with wood, thankfully.

"Nothing's wrong with sugar an' tea," they chirp, ignoring the messed-up hum while they get into a nearby drawer, feeling around--there's the matchstick box, good. Frisk lights one, slipping it into the door, and keep crouched as they wait for the fire to get going. It won't take long. There might be magic in it, really, since the matches had a weird gleam to them.

[itstheend]

Chara glares at the matches a little. Where were they when they were fussing around with a tinderbox?

*Maybe they're there because you were having problems?

Thank you Frisk, for the further existential dread of what it might mean to live in a place that can read you as a person would. How helpful.

It's unlikely, anyway. The universe does not revolve around them. The simplest answer is just it's a different kitchen.

[There is if you have to drink it with a spoon,] Chara snarks, stepping over to the rangehood to give the other-Frisk a decent view. [I suppose I can settle for a 'sick thing'.] If it helps, it helps, even if it's not monster magic.

[dustless]

The angle of their head is awkward, looking at Chara's hands and the building fire at the same time."There's spoons in some other drawers if you really need 'em."

They may be acting deliberately obtuse here. Maybe. Frisk's a pretty weird kid.

They let the door swing shut once the flames seem sufficient, letting the heat build up as well, and gesture to the cupboards above the counters. "Pick some cups?"

[itstheend]

Squint. Other-Frisk gets a Leonardo DiCaprio look at the apparent literalness. Chara almost resembles Frisk for a second before mentally, if grumpily, dismissing it.

They open up the cupboards and after some rummaging procure two mismatched mugs; one a chipped blue, the other with a picture of a kitten on it that is missing a lot of it's handle. The caption says 'hang in there', because of course it does.

They slide the blue one along the bench to other-Frisk. Sue them, they like cats.

*Sure it's not going to ruin your cred?

Shut. They set the cat mug aside to free their hands.

[Do you know where S-4 lives.]

[dustless]

(Frisk hides a tiny smile.)

They don't know how long to leave the tea on. They'll just. Let it boil until it smells strong enough, they guess? That could be a couple more minutes.

"S-4-Papyrus? Yeah. Can bring him over here if you need a heal," they offer, brow wrinkling slightly as the words slip from their mouth. "Ask him, I mean." They're not one of his lab scientists. It's not his fault he's the only one they can find easily with healing magic.

*writes self into corner* *bluffs furiously*

[itstheend]

(You put that thing back where it came from or so help them.)

[That... it may be required.] They absently run a hand up and down their throat. Even if it doesn't restore their voice, it'd likely do something about the blood still running down their gullet. [There is no particular urgency.] They're willing to see if the tea helps first.

They cock their head, and then less than enthusedly relay a question.

[Frisk wants to know why he's 'S-4 P-A-P-Y-R-U-S' instead of 'S-4']