time for work, time for play!

[dustless]

Frisk is building some swings.

Why? Why not. 

....In all actuality, they were reminded of their home in the city recently--before they ever climbed the mountain--and they liked the playground that was by their old school, and they loved the swings. And they remember seeing pictures in magazines and movies where people in the country made them on trees, and they thought they could try that. And people--
'specially the other kids around here--could use more stuff to have fun with.

So here they are.

It's kind of harder than it looks, but they've found rope and hammers and nails and wrecked a few small tables to use as seats. Now they've climbed up a particularly hardy-looking oak in the gardens, and they're busy hammering in one end of a bunch of the ropes into a thick branch with a loud thud-thud-thud-thud! (They'd originally tried to tie them, but they're not any good at knots.)

The bits of table are strewn around the roots on the grass. They'll work on finding somebody to help them with tying the other ends of the ropes onto the nubs left of table legs once they're done with this...which'll take a while. They're a tough kid, but they're still a kid.

They're being quite noisy--feel free to ask them what they're doing. Or help. Or just sit back and watch.

Comments

avoids tags by tagging in *sob*

[itstheend]

It's the noise that wakes Chara up from where they're sleeping in the gardens. It's not a pleasant or slow awakening; they catapult up, eyes wide and heart racing, on high alert before their suuroundings reveal themself to, after a time, be empty of threat.

The noise is still going, and it's driving them nuts. Being unable to get back to what sleep they can snatch with it, they storm towards it, fully intending to make it stop with extreme prejudice.

...oh. It's the other Frisk. Chara can feel their own come forward for a good look through the eyes in interest. (A sensation that took a long time to stop being skin-scrawling.)

*They're nailing ropes to a tree for some reason?
*They've ripped up a table???

Chara's mind immediately jumps to a certain kind of stress relief as a conclusion. It's a strange feeling to see someone else doing it. When they walk up to the other, it's more measured, hands folded behind their back and they stop to stare up into the tree, kicking the trunk to alert the other-Frisk if they haven't been spotted already.

/pats/

[dustless]

They hadn't, actually, and the trunk-kick makes them pause in confusion. Where did that noise come from--?

And then they see green from the corner of their eye. Oh, "Chara!" They're a little too high to be entirely sure which one it is, though their voicelessness gives them a hint. Better not to assume, though it doesn't matter much--they straighten up on the branch wave just like they'd do for any other kid.

...Aaand also manage to somehow nudge the box of nails they'd had balanced near them, and have to scramble to catch it before they all fall. A few escape all the way down to the ground, though hopefully missing Chara--but still, "Oh no! Sorry!"

[itstheend]

Frisk internally waves back. This does nothing useful. When the other Frisk makes it rain (nails), Chara shields themself with their arms, lips curled, and one (1) bounces off, harmlessly.

A mildly and somewhat disproportionately peeved Chara signs back up at other-Frisk (they really should think of a better way of differentiating them).

[What are you doing?]

Aside from the obvious.

cool not getting alerts

[dustless]

They grin apologetically. Okay, signing, they were right.

After a few seconds of throat-clearing in preparation to yell, it occurs to them that they also know some sign and so don't need to actually do that.

The hammer is balanced far better than the nails were, and then they stick out their hands--

[S-W-I-N-G-S!]

[itstheend]

*!
*Hey Chara, ask them if we can help!

Stop making them the middleman! Chara drops the hand that was shading their eyes to see the other Frisk's signs better, and then returns sign themself.

[Why?]

They're not really seeing the point, here. What use are swings?

[trombones]

That sure is a torn-up table. Sans would have called it a waste if he didn't put together what Frisk was doing pretty quickly. He picks up one of the longer table boards and leans his arms on it as he looks up at the tree.

"I'm gonna take a swing..."

The next second, he's sitting on the base of a neighboring branch near Frisk.

"... and say you're feeling pretty handy."

[dustless]

They pause in their hammering so they can hear him. And snicker a tiny bit.

"You guessed it! Can you tie knots?" Frisk gets straight to the point. They are very much in Work Mode.

[trombones]

Any laugh is a good laugh. Sans leans against the trunk and pulls his hands behind his skull.

"Probably."

Meaning: he could, but he's still lazy.

[dustless]

Frisk hits the nail a couple more times before leveling him a look.

"Will you tie knots if I ask in a little while?" they specify.

[trombones]

"Hmm..."

Sans cracks one socket opening, grinning that typical, shit-eating smile.

"I mean, I can knot, but could I not? Or is not knotting not an option, here?"

[demonthatcomes]

Chara had come out wondering what the racket was; their irritation disappears when they see Frisk, and their expression is replaced with mild puzzlement. What's Frisk doing with all this junk?

"Greetings. What are you up to?"

[dustless]

Frisk stops to wave. (And not knock anything down this time.)

"Chara!" They sound cheery and genuinely relieved to see them. Partly because it'd been a while, partly because they were the one that never had a knife out with the intent to use it in their presence. "Makin' swings!"

[demonthatcomes]

"Swings." They repeat, mostly to themself. Pre-Underground, Chara had never been allowed to a playground. Should they try, they either got bullied or the kids refused to play with them. The latter result was the most desirable; it meant they got the swings, jungle gym, or whatever to themself without having to sneak out at night. "Are you building a playground or something?"

[dustless]

Frisk didn't get to use theirs much either, though for more mundane reasons--their school was packed, and the (fairly rickety) playground equipment was always in high demand. They sometimes got a turn if they ran fast or asked one of the nicer kids, but neither happened often.

"Not a whole one, just the swings. I dunno how to make stuff like a slide. There's not a lot of metal here that'd work, I think?" Now that Chara's got the idea in their head, though...hmm. Maybe they can try to make other playground things another day.

[demonthatcomes]

"Swings are the most popular, it seems. Even adults seem to like them." Assuming the movies aren't lying to them again. "Do you need help with anything...?"

no willpower

[voidster]

Fourteen years. Fourteen years of drifting, lost, all mind and no body. Fourteen years--all coming to an end with a snap as he's suddenly here, not there. And more solid than he usually is without expending vast amounts of stored energy. How bizarre.

Once upon a time he was a tall wholesome skeleton in a sweater, pants, and black labcoat. His form degraded over time bit by bit, a little different each time he tried to manifest as he slowly forgot what he looked like. Hence the lack of legs, the toothless gash of a mouth, the general melted look. He could pull himself together if he really put his mind to it.

But he isn't. You see, this is not the Underground. There's sun. There's sky. Never was he able to see timelines outside the mountain from the Void. All the knowledge he had and still no sunshine in his life.

He's not used to interacting with solid matter anyway. He can hardly imagine such a thing after so so long. Which is why there's a broken down skeleton monster sitting in the sun, watching Frisk build and not lifting a finger to help.

:3

[dustless]

Frisk doesn't notice him for a while, occupied with the task as they are. They've hammered two ropes in, but is that enough for one swing? Should they use four, hammering in two more on the branch's other side and make a braid thing for strength, or would that be a waste...?

They straighten up to examine the thickness of the branch anyway, and that's when they spy him off to the side.

"Oh," they say, staring. Is this a Gaster they know, relaxing? Probably. Might as well include him anyway, and they gesture at their work. "Think these're enough?"

[voidster]

Oh, it's them. That small human child he's seen be so kind when not under anyone else's influence. Freeing the monsters again and again and again--taking slightly different paths, which all lead to the same wonderful ending for the Underground. All monsters but one, who can't leave the site of his accident.

What was their name again?

He shifts a bit, eyeing all the collected things and their work so far. Enough swings? Possibly. Four would be better for the sake of safety, he can see. Slowly he raises a hand and seems surprised when he sees a piece of himself--it has been too long. There was little point of being solid in an empty Underground.

No, he signs, almost on automatic. It feels surreal. Is it really him? Four. For safety's sake.

[dustless]

Four ropes. More work, but yeah, that's probably for the best.

They grab a couple more nails and let them roll in their fingers before looking up again. He was awful slow to answer...

...come to think of it--while they're not an expert on reading distorted faces like his--he seems a little out of it, huh?

"You 'kay over there?" Frisk calls down.

[voidster]

No. And also yes. It's not a bad day, considering. He's in one place, not all places. He's out of the Underground, more importantly. And it's quite nice.

If he says anything other than yes, the child will only worry. He feels as if he knows them much much better than they know him (hah), after so long listening and watching. They're like that. Everyone must be saved.

Some people can never be saved.

Yes, yes, he signs, a bit speedier than before. It's becoming easier with every word.

[justletmewin]

Asriel is keeping low, wanting to give the residents of the island time to recover before showing his face again. He's cautious of Flowey and one of the Charas as well, not wanting to incite their wrath. All the same, he couldn't help being curious what Frisk is up to.

"Hello?" He pokes his head out from another tree, waving at Frisk. Hopefully he was loud enough for them to hear, but not attract attention from anyone else.

[dustless]

...What the heck.

Asriel looks really weird up there, cotton ball of a head surrounded by leaves.

They stare for a second before waving back. With their hammer. "Why're you up there?"

[justletmewin]

It'd be less awkward if it was a silk floss tree, but then again, Asriel shouldn't be able to climb said tree due to its thorny trunk.

"I uh... kind of just want to be alone now, but... what are you building?"

good lord

[dustless]

...If he wanted to be alone, he didn't nee to greet them. Frisk suspects some loneliness.

"Makin' swings! Know what those are?"

[justletmewin]

"Yeah!" Asriel adjusts himself on the branch of his tree, getting closer while maintaining his balance. "We actually had a swingset in Snowdin once, but we didn't have enough resources and space to make swings fit for everybody, like the armless monsters. One of the swings broke and then we just... kind of abandoned it? Everyone figured kids like us had more fun exploring anyway. The swingset wasn't there anymore when I woke up as a flower."