fac simile (Kalak Intro Post)

[ponchohuman]

Kalak has visited many castles in their lifetimes but it's been a long time since they've been anywhere as quiet as this one. No soldiers camped outside the walls, no servants chattering or couriers preening, only simple serene beauty and sky on all horizons. It's quite refreshing!

If they felt the tiny smidgen of guilt for their own actions, for how they had denied so many a sun they were enjoying, they did not show it. They head outdoors, gardens had been the particular favorite of an old friend and even now they held a spot of fondness. An imposing red eyed figure in archaic garb, they make a smooth beeline through the hallways of the castle, moving with swift precise efficiency that dissuades interruption. Still, they were a general, and may stop to mingle if it feels required.


If uninterrupted, Kalak finds a low wall to sit upon near a particularly stunning flowerbed and begins unpacking a small kit. Their spear sits in their lap, a glossy thing of polished metal and smooth wood, well worn and well loved. Whetstone in hand, they begin the process of sharpening their old weapon. A sword lies beside them, awaiting its turn. Weapons must be well kept after all, even if their use may not be imminent.

Comments

[dustless]

Frisk is in a kitchen, standing on a stool, doing dishes.

It's not necessary, they know--they eat stuff and the castle resets it overnight--but it still seems nice. Plus it's just something to do. Frisk never minded doing chores overmuch, and there's something soothing about the motions of wiping plates clean.

They hear someone passing and make an absent noise of greeting, though they don't turn back to see who it might be.

[ponchohuman]

They pause, leaning on their spear as they peer into the room. A child, human and quite young by their estimates. No parents to be seen, but they have seen a great many orphans in the life. They rap a hand gently against the wooden door as they enter. Might as well see if they knows anything about this place.

"Hello", Their voice is low and gentle and as fake and practiced as the rest of them. They aren't speaking english or at least, not a modern variation but the caste takes if that. "Do you have a moment, child?"'

It's phrased as a question, but their red eyes broke no argument. There's something profoundly unsettling about their demeanor, not matter how softly the present themselves.

[dustless]

Adults do not impress them, not even the most intimidating, but they've got no real reason to ignore this new one. Frisk carefully sets the plate they've rinsed off to dry, and they turn.

"Yeah." Huh. Red eyes. Chara, Toriel come to mind. "What d'you need?"

[ponchohuman]

Well that's a little refreshing then. It'd be trouble if the kid was to scared to talk.

Another bland smile.

"Ah, nothing much really. I'm just a bit curious about this place. Quite the fascinating castle really."

They pause, considering what they've seen.

"There seem to be quite a few....monsters... How is that working out?"

[dustless]

Ah. So they're really new, then.

Frisk nods along with 'fascinating', lips quirking. That's not wrong, after all, though they'd probably add a few more rude things to that description.

And then the stranger says monsters, and it shifts to a fullblown grin. "Yeah, there's a bunch! They're--what d'you mean?" Frisk's grin doesn't drop, but their eyes go sharper. They've got no idea who this stranger is or what they're from, but monsters usually don't have the best reputation in any world. "They're good people, friends an' family."

[itstheend]

It's the sound that wakes them with a start, and the sound that draws them, from the garden. The sssssssh, ssssssssh of stone along metal. They pad near, stepping quietly, until they spot the source. They come to a halt behind and to the side a little of a tree, and stand, almost sentinel-like.

They're not so stupid as to engage a weapon-wielding adult human in conversation, let alone combat. But the care of the weapons is... it's difficult to explain, but it's something to watch, the smooth rhythmic motions and the soft, dangerous sound.

They're not as well hidden as they think they are.

[ponchohuman]

You'll have to do a little better then that if you wanted to sneak up on Kalak. They continue for a few moments more, twirling the spear in a practiced hand to check its edges before setting it down beside them.

There is of course the question of what to do with the little spy. But this is not a zone of war, so they suppose they can be lenient. So they leave their spear where it is and look up, red meeting red.

The sight of a child with those eyes throws them a little off balance, mouth quirking into a small frown. Wheels turn. Red eyes are not a common trait, even in their time. With a flash, they preform a magical [Check].

Ah, a red soul as well. Perhaps even as powerful as theirs? Useful perhaps?

They beckon Chara with a hand. They'd very much like to speak with you child.

cw: implied child abuse

[itstheend]

The beckoning causes their back to straighten, stiffening. Slowly, their arms are folded behind them.

They've been spotted. Nobody who does that movement towards them has good intentions. But they can't afford to show fear. Can't afford to give the impression of fear; they're not scared at all. They're just being paranoid, aren't they? Just a waving over. People do that all the time, probably. What is Chara's problem?

*I'm sure they're nice!

...the other has red eyes, too. So. Are they a demon, as well? In that case, they wouldn't be.

Chara steps forward in formal fashion, eyes front, head held up, exposing the scar across their throat. They come to a halt out of immediate spear range - there's nothing to be done if it's thrown, blue and glowing - and sign.

[You called?]

There's no distinct word for 'rang' in Hands in this context but the dry tone is amply applied by their smile.

[ponchohuman]

The fear is obvious in every telegraphed movement. Kalak has lived far to long to be unable to recognize the telltale stiffening of barely repressed terror. They've seen it far to much, both on their side of the battlefield and the other (and perhaps even before). Their gaze remains unchanged.

The do cock their head a little at the hands. Kalak is familiar enough with some monster's form of silent speech, they dimly remember trying to get Asgore to teach them a little a long time ago. Later, the skill had been entirely useless of course, most of those quaint mute monsters had been absolutely annihilated. They had no idea if any had even survived. How curious.

[How tense.] Their grasp of the language is slightly rusty, but they remember enough. [I was not the one spying, child.]

"Perhaps I only have a few questions to ask? You have quite the interesting soul."

[itstheend]

They are not tense, excuse you! They simply have 'proper form'. Yes. There's a slight lag in their reactions to the demon's sign as Frisk translates for them.

['Spying' would imply you had any information of value.]

When in doubt, attempt burn. Their polite, plastic smile has not budged at all.

[But perhaps you do. I propose a game. A question for a question. The truth, only. Refusing to answer ends it.]

It worked with the voodoo guy. An exchange is always better than theft or gift.

i almost said "kayak" instead of "kalak"

[companiontor]

The sound of metal and stome is what gets her attention. They're not loud or grand by any means, which is what she's used to--great iron gates rumbling open, flying monsters made of roaring stone--but it's nevertheless recognizable. Her flight is elegant, very nearly a dancing bird, and settles neatly upon the wall a ways from Kalak.

Harmonies. Chirrups. Calls that sound like birds and violins and flutes all at once--not to make any words to much as call their attention. Seems as though everyone speaks that rough and gutteral language. The closest she has heard yet were the aviary birds, and they were hardly there.

It's undeniable that those short notes are beautiful, though, ringing in lovely white rings like soundwaves.

the true name

[ponchohuman]

They look up curiously at the sparkling note. Well, this is certainly new? Is she a monster? They've never met anyone, human or otherwise who spoke like this nomad.

Still, appears to be a pleasant creature. They'll defiantly give a point of approval to her choice in garments. That is quite a wonderful poncho she has there.

And yet their guard never drops. Their grip on the spear doesn't falter but they match her harmonies with a light laugh of their own.

"Oh, hello there! Who might you be, hm?"

[companiontor]

Now she speaks, albeit rather unorthodox. Her whirring calls twist their notes in a way that resemble words enough to be understood, even if barely.

"I am Idlei," she sings. "You, I have not seen before. Who might you be?"

[ponchohuman]

They raise a brow? So she does speak? Idlei huh? They don't think they've met a creature like her before. They wave a hand at her dismissively.

"Oh, nobody interesting I assure you. You can call me Kalak."

"I think I'd be a lot more interested in your story. What land are you from, where they speak like that?"

[companiontor]

And she has never seen a proper human whose skin was not black as darkest night before the Castle, but now she has. Wanderers were humanoid, to an extent, but different all the same.

"Nor I," comes the hum of strings, "but I have seen no one like me as of yet. I am of the Great Desert; the Sunken City, specifically."

She wouldn't expect Kalak to know, even if they were of her world. No one ever came to the desert, and no one ever left.

[trombones]

The similarity to a certain whoever gets the monster's attention but other than that, the human actually looked like they belonged here. One of the few that actually did around here. Huh. Go figure.

Sans peels himself off a tree that he was quietly watching the Kalak from in the distance. The next instance, he's reappearing on the other side of the wall near the human, acting like he just arrived on a casual stroll. A little closer now, he takes note of the weapons.

Double huh.

"Nice stick," He notes casually. "You look spearited to boot."

blocked

[ponchohuman]

They don't hear him teleport, don't hear him breath behind them or his footsteps as he approaches. They have no warning when he suddenly speaks and they react accordingly, war honed instincts kicking in before they can think.

They're off the wall within the second, spear grasped comfortably in their hand as they wheel to face him, eyes cold and focus as they draw their hand back and....

Oh.

Woops.

They do have the decency to look a little embarrassed, mentally replaying what he just said before they reacted. The pun is....fine...they guess...But this is not a stick and he should respect that.

"....My apologies. You started me."

ok

[trombones]

Sans doesn't move. Like, literally. Aside from a single blink and a brow bone rising, he's pretty unphased by the human's sudden fighting stance. Yeah. He had a feeling that could happen.

"You do that to every guy going for a walk?"

If he's offended (he's not, for the record) he doesn't sound like it.

"It's cool. Hey there. I'm Sans."

[ponchohuman]

They pull the spear back and force themselves to relax their stance. Yes, he is a monster but he is a little one. They rack their memory about skeletons. Bone attacks? They are unsure if there is anything else to recall.

"Only the ones whom seem fond of ambushing those like me. I did not hear you approach."

They incline their head at him, tone firm. "Kalak. May I ask what you are doing?"

[trombones]

Good reasons to chill: tiny-assed skeleton in basketball shorts.

"Well, that wasn't the plan. I'm just walking, here," He says with a shrug. "Nice to meet ya, Kalak. I was taking a walk, and you looked new."

That's mostly true, actually. It just takes out the part where he watched them behind a tree for a good minute. Which isn't that unusual, when someone from a distance really gets your attention. But the fact that they were a new face - with weapons to boot - was definitely a factor.

why not

[voidster]

He'd lost himself a little bit earlier, worn out from being corporeal for a relatively long time while speaking with Frisk, and invisible, continued to roam the gardens to enjoy the sights of the Surface. And he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but what he did bear was far too interesting not to listen in. After all, he's been eavesdropping on all monsterkind for a long long time. Why stop now?

Still. There's only so much he can learn from lurking. So many questions he'd like to ask this 'Kalak'. And he's able to, isn't it? Provided they can understand his way of speaking.

He reforms himself some distance away, slowly and gracefully seeming to glide across the ground towards them. He hasn't managed legs yet. Who cares, legs are not necessary for man monsters.

Good evening, come the signs when he's caught their eye. Here's hoping they can chat and both be civil.

damn kalak u so popular

[ponchohuman]

Their eyes snap up, red and cold as they survey his approach.

To them, he appears half formed visage of a beast of twin souls, something melting and terrible and wrong .

Their spear is gripped harder, the stone placed down. To defeat such a beast, range was usually a better advantage then the pure damage of a sword. Still, it would be a taxing battle and while their posture is stiff, they do not sense a human souls power quite yet.

Again, hands. Quite a lot of speakers today. Kalak wracks their memories for some unsightly curses but they'd have to drop their weapon to communicate. They just hope the sorry wreck before them is bilingual.

"Indeed." Curt and formal. "Do you need something?"

coz u suck go eat a bag of dicks

[voidster]

Gee, who's fault might it be that he's gone from being a perfectly handsome sweater-loving skeleton to... whatever sort of creature he is now? He doesn't quite know what he looks like, due to the lack of mirrors in the rooms he's explored. Ah, well, he'd never cared that much for looks anyhow.

There's absolutely no signs of violence from the melted monster. He's keeping a very polite amount of distance between himself and Kalak and if he were any calmer on the outside he'd be a puddle of gloop.

He clasps his hands together for a moment, nodding. I couldn't help overhearing... some things. Not a thing wrong with his hearing, after all. You're one of the creators of the Barrier, am I correct?

[ponchohuman]

Um?? Not theirs?? Buddy they just slaughtered and imprisoned your kind they had nothing to do with the building of any dangerous magical technology. You can't pin everything on Kalak.


"Yes." Their posture is stiff and their face is stony. How friendly! "Are you here for revenge, or something of that ilk?"

God they really don't want to have another fight. It'd be pointless, and then they'd either die or he would and they'd have to do things over again. Utterly wasteful.

[voidster]

No, no.

Human, does the guy look like he's up for any sort of battle? He hasn't tested his magic to see if he can still access any of it yet and the best way to do that is not in a fight. He'd lose, no doubt of that.

I'm here out of curiosity. Your motives. Why did all of you feel it was necessary? What set the War off? Were any humans harmed by a monster before your kind choose to imprison mine?

Some of his signs are a bit choppy. Still, he doesn't appear like he's about to get violent on their ass.