Frisk (ᗩᑌ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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castle_perrault2016-12-09 06:46 am
collectyourfriends) wrote in castle_perrault2016-12-09 06:46 am
Entry tags:
thunderbolts and lightning
Over and around one half of the Castle, the skies are filled with grey and rumbling thunder, growing greater and louder until--
Lightning explodes, throwing the edges of everything into sharp relief. Not from the sky, from a tower, the very top of one, something stands. A beast--a dog larger than any dog should be, blue and yellow, roaring a challenge at the clouds. Lightning arcs from it, back to it, and all that does is seemingly make it angrier.
If anyone comes close enough to check, that is.
If they do...
A child wearing a bandanna isn't far, off on the--roof, they guess, where they could walk from that tower to another without having to step a foot inside.
Not that Frisk's about to do that. They're not in any mood to be running, they've had enough of it, they're aching all over from when they fell. All the times they fell. Undyne's spears weren't easy to avoid; like Papyrus, like...Toriel, she wouldn't flee from a Roar.
And they wouldn't let Sparks fight her, either. He wanted to--still wants to! But she's a monster, and they don't want another death on their hands or his paws, which would inevitably be the result. Especially since she's something near water-type, according to Papyrus.
Who's gone again, but they're less worried about it this time around, that's just...the Castle. He didn't know they'd left in the first place.
It's good that they're here. It's giving them time to rest, relax--they're sitting down, digging into some of their Berry stash, watching Sparks direct his rage at the sky, which is also helpful. He's getting his aggression out, which means less risk of lashing out, and again, less death. And less worry about their team wanting to battle each other, which is possible but doesn't end well--or end, leading to friendly-but-real fights being reignited at random intervals for months.
Frisk doesn't expect to be here longer than a day and a half again; they're just going to hang out up here until they're brought back.
Lightning explodes, throwing the edges of everything into sharp relief. Not from the sky, from a tower, the very top of one, something stands. A beast--a dog larger than any dog should be, blue and yellow, roaring a challenge at the clouds. Lightning arcs from it, back to it, and all that does is seemingly make it angrier.
If anyone comes close enough to check, that is.
If they do...
A child wearing a bandanna isn't far, off on the--roof, they guess, where they could walk from that tower to another without having to step a foot inside.
Not that Frisk's about to do that. They're not in any mood to be running, they've had enough of it, they're aching all over from when they fell. All the times they fell. Undyne's spears weren't easy to avoid; like Papyrus, like...Toriel, she wouldn't flee from a Roar.
And they wouldn't let Sparks fight her, either. He wanted to--still wants to! But she's a monster, and they don't want another death on their hands or his paws, which would inevitably be the result. Especially since she's something near water-type, according to Papyrus.
Who's gone again, but they're less worried about it this time around, that's just...the Castle. He didn't know they'd left in the first place.
It's good that they're here. It's giving them time to rest, relax--they're sitting down, digging into some of their Berry stash, watching Sparks direct his rage at the sky, which is also helpful. He's getting his aggression out, which means less risk of lashing out, and again, less death. And less worry about their team wanting to battle each other, which is possible but doesn't end well--or end, leading to friendly-but-real fights being reignited at random intervals for months.
Frisk doesn't expect to be here longer than a day and a half again; they're just going to hang out up here until they're brought back.
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You've got battle spirit, he tells them in a short howl, showing approval in a few jerking wags of his tail.
He lopes at them with increased speed. Leap, scream instincts, but he's no Electrike pup. He refuses to sink down, either, giving them a chance to swing cinders down into his eyes or jump on him again instead.
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They do wish they had found resources to set up a trap. They wish they and Frisk had spent more time practicing partial control; dodging feels like it might be needed soon.
The dog's playing this smart; Chara is filled with grudging respect.
As soon as it's close enough, they're going to attempt to step to the side and swiftly stab; once more aiming for an eye.
monster biology ahoy
Time to try to get rid of them.
Targeting the weapon not on fire first, he jerks his head forward, jaws snapping and giving a few good looks at the inside of his mouth--there's less teeth than a real dog, only a few in the front before disappearing. Further back tapers slightly inward, leaving smooth hard lines of blue the same shade of his fur
Looks like wire cutters on pliers. Something that could at least leave marks in wood if he manages to get a hold of it, though it'd take a couple bites to cut clean through.
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A couple bites is, however, exactly what they need - for a moment they thought the dog would cut it in one go like the large wolf, but that it doesn't gives them enough time to try a strategy.
They jab again, still aiming for an eye, but watching the dog's mouth carefully. As soon as it's open to bite the stick, they're trying to thrust the flaming end of the torch right down its throat.
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Fire punches into the back of Sparks' mouth.
"RIIIIIII--!"
He screams and scrabbles back, every inch of fur standing on end with an explosive zzzzzzz of broken machines, head jerking madly. Get it out get it out get it OUT GET IT OUT--
--but you can't shake a burn out.
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It's... disturbing and disconcerting, they think, when they can't tell how much damage they're doing in an easily quantifiable sense; it feels like missing a thumb, flying blind. Which in turn gives them an idea; they take the opportunity given to do what they really should have done first: *Check.
*!
*Um. Okay this is really weird.
*Chara, their LV is 60... and also 5?? It keeps changing.
*I was right, though, it's electric-type.
That's impossible. And since when could you tell LV, Frisk?
*This is all I can pull out!
*Maybe it's a different worlds thing?
*I can't see their ATK or DEF, either...
Still, with an LV higher than theirs, it's a concern. Still, they stand their ground. Uncertainty is weakness.
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Claws slam on the floor and thunder roars in his head and over his fur and it hurts it hurts it hurts.
This battle is over.
He blurs into a charge and doesn't stop at any other swings of their weapons, throws all of his weight at the center of their chest.
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They instinctively step, and instinctively attack, and both are useless; the dog rams into their chest and they go flying, skidding across the floor of the hall in a trail of sparks until they're forcibly halted by the end of it. They lie still, crumpled. Their breathing is wheezing, strained.
Somehow, they still have a bulldog grip on their weapons, the fire of the torch having been smeared to near-extinguishment but they're not getting up again any time soon.
You won!
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Doesn't stop his charge completely after they've gone flying, either. He only paces a few more times, hesitating just in case they've got another trick up their sleeve before striding right up to them, making sure they're breathing.
Sparks' breathing's raspy, jaw hanging open. The burn hadn't quite got his throat, or not nearly as much throat as they got his tongue, so he can't let it shut without a fresh wave of pain.
He could go find Frisk to heal him...but they're going to be looking for him anyway, to make sure his battle'd gone well. He doesn't want to go running with the knife and stick still embedded deep in him, either.
Instead, Sparks slumps until he's nearly lying down...right there next to Chara. And he waits.
Not for long. Frisk's found the trail easily--once they also found their way up to the correct tower, they'd forgotten just how winding this place was. It's a longer one than they thought, and messier. They gave each other a huge run-around, didn't they?
Even the nearly-alarming amount of red didn't have them quite prepared for the sight of Sparks with the blade sunk into his back, leaving the blanket pinned there. Soon as they'er spotted, he jerks his head around and whines.
"...You look terrible," they inform him matter-of-factly. Sparks whines a little more, jerking his head at his fallen opponent beside him, torn between pride at his success, embarrassment at how hard it was, and just help me already, I'm burned, look at this.
"Hold on." They stop beside Chara too, crouching to look them over. There's a thud and a clatter--dropping the knife they'd left and the shoe they'd launched over the side of the tower.
"Yeah, they lost. Means they need healing...more than you. You're yellow, you're okay for now." And at that Sparks turns up his head, refusing to look at them or their disapproving stare.
Fine, fine--they bring their bag around and start rooting through it. They've got a bunch of Rawst and Sitrus berries--Revives too, but...hm. They're not sure if those work on humans in particular.
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Chara twitches at the sounds of the items being dropped near them, flickers of consciousness beginning to starburst like the lights in front of them when they open their eyes a sliver with a groan. There's a glazed, unfocused cast to them; looks like a concussion. Their head got cracked pretty hard against the wall.
They make an attempt to get up and slump back down, ears ringing, breathing thin and shallow. Their chest hurts. They feel like they've gone and gotten run over by a truck, and they can't remember why.
They blink. There's blue and yellow in front of them. That means something. It's important.
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The kid seems to be waking up on their own. Not quickly or well, but it saves them from having to try methods they haven't before. Berries, for Frisk, are tried and true.
"Hey. Here." They shift over to kneel, pressing the yellow rind towards their lips. "This'll help. It's good, eat it." A Sitrus is a nice blend of all kinds of flavors, though lacking spice. Frisk and their team enjoy it as a favorite, hopefully they will too.
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And then two realisations kick in.
One, that's a human. Right up close in their personal space. Second, that's the lightning dog, also right up in their personal space.
They, to politely put it, flip out, scrambling away as much as their numb, lagging muscles allow. Their head throbs madly when they smack it back against the wall.
They stare at the dog, keeping a wary eye on it, and then back to the human - the Frisk, maybe? There's similarities. They glare at them and then down at the fruit in their hand, ripping a piece off and throwing it at them.
Prove it's safe. They don't trust people at the best of times, but especially not after getting trounced by their... pet? Companion?
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Frisk catches it. "You shouldn't throw stuff at people." Not like that. First the shoe at Sparks, now the Sitrus at them. It's a bad habit.
They flick the piece of berry over their shoulder, too. Not going to waste it. Sparks hooks it with his front teeth, tilting his head back to let it fall down his throat. Beyond that, he doesn't move.
Neither does Frisk, except to sit back on their legs and...watch them. They don't want to let them go running off all in the red like this.
"You really beat him up."
is it a gen 3 or beyond Sitrus?
They bite into it. It's... odd. Not the weirdest thing they've ever eaten. But definitely a unique taste. It seems to be some kind of monster food, because they can definitely feel their health returning. The fog clears a little. They can feel Frisk waking up too, a series of groggy question-marks.
They spit out a seed (before it can dissolve, they think) and pocket it. A minor case of their interest in botany rearing it's head. Maybe they can try and look it up in the library later.
Their gaze returns to the human (or another demon? This place seems to attact them) sullenly, and they slowly sign, emphasizing each word and glaring at both.
[I simply wanted him to stop the thunder.]
It just... escalated. Badly.
beyond~
Frisk fishes around in their bag for a few more, holding them out, and continues. "You're tough. You should be more careful anyway." They're not unimpressed with how hard they managed to fight, they just think the entire situation was stupid and shouldn't have happened. But it did, so maybe that means it won't again.
At least Sparks is calmer. He did get what he wanted, and the worst--the burn--that's been treated. He grins when Chara's looking, oddly humanlike and genuine.
Once their hands are empty again, they scoot towards Sparks and carefully grab what's sticking from his back. "Your stuff's there," they add, nodding at the boot and other knife resting on the floor, yanking out the first in a single swift movement.
He rumbles, yellow sparks flickering up their arms, but he's being careful and they're used to it enough not to react much. They brush the blanket off, though not before wiping off some of the red on the blade.
And then they're holding the knife out, too, for Chara to take. It's the kid's, after all. They're not a thief when they don't need to be.
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*Well, it worked?
*And nobody died!
Ever the glass half-full.
*And you've made new friends! Sort of.
They can feel their HP maxed out in just two more fruits, but any overflow is remaining in their pockets. You gave them, they're gone. They lean away at the growl and the arcing lightning, keeping a weather eye; nothing untoward eventuates. They snatch the knife, avoiding the other demon's (???) face, hastily pulling the shoe and other knife towards them with their feet. They slide their wet sock into one and bring the second up to meet it's twin, fastidiously starting to re-clean the blades on their sweater for something to do with their hands.
After a few moments of this they look up and, leaving the knives in their lap, pick up the torch to smear it into the floor and snuff out the few remaining embers with one hand, while jerking their thumb and head towards the canine with the other.
What's the deal with you two? You clearly know each other, but how do you bleed red and where did you get those weird plants?
It's a very expressive thumb.
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They've got plenty of Sitrus, which is great 'cause they're using more on Sparks. Plus a curvy Mago for themselves that they were eating before the runaround.
Wait, wait, forgot something. Tongue still out, Sparks rolls onto his back, looking for all the world like he wants a belly rub, and that's what they think for a moment before noticing the stick still jutting from his stomach.
They let the end of the Mago hang from their mouth gracelessly as they feel around. It's in there pretty deep, only a couple inches sticking out, and half of it's splintering and slick, tough to get a hold on. Hmm...
They pull off their bandanna, glancing up just in time to get some of that expressive gesture, and shove the rest of the berry into their mouth before continuing. They don't want to spay juice over his wounds, that's not how it works.
"This...is Sparks. He's a Manectric. My..." they choose their word carefully, remembering how Tauriel reacted last time they were here. "...teammate. And a Pokémon, not an animal."
Frisk wraps the bandanna around their hand, getting a grip on the stick. It'll take more than one yank to get it out, they can tell already. "Sorry," they mutter to him. Brace yourself.
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Chara regards the human's attempts to remove the stick closely, but makes no move to help. It's possible the knives could help... but they're loath to give them up, and they doubt Sparks would appreciate any more contact from them.
*Pet him!
No.
They sit back on their haunches, and watch.
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"It's...really in there." A question posed as a comment, even if the other kid can't answer, and Sparks doesn't have the concentration to either. Feels...weird not to. They're in the company of another human, after all, and usually humans don't enjoy long stretches of silence much. (One of several reasons they prefer being around Pokémon.) Humans usually aren't tough enough to do this kind of damage with a stick, either.
Sparks whines a little louder, eye rolling pointedly away from Chara. There's embarrassment in the motion. Not that it tells them anything.
Frisk moves their position until one knee's pressing into his chest. Sorry, sorry, but it's a necessary angle. More charges worm up their arm, inside and out, which really doesn't help the situation. "Come on," they mutter through gritted teeth.
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They get to their feet with a rustle of cloth as the Frisk(?) braces and attempts again, settling to a crouch by Spark's head and dropping the extinct torch by his head, close enough to reach. Something to bite, rushes probably easier than hard wood.
Wipe that nonexistent expression away, Frisk.
They test the edges of their knives, take the sharpest, and start whittling away at the broken tip of the pole, increasing the sharpness of the tip and stripping off the splinters. They poke the other with it, briefly, before holding it out. Use this as a lever.
They don't have enough medical knowledge to know that sometimes a vaccuum can form in flesh, but they do have a little personal experience in trying to pull spears out of themself.
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Sparks jerks his head to the side. Yes, the fight's over, but that burn made him rather shy--it reeks of fuel and flame even if it's out. He manages to knock Frisk's grip loose and twisting the stick inside himself. Their lips draw back in a mute snarl as they readjust. "Careful." Stay still.
The sharpened stick gets Chara a long look. "My hands're busy. Do you know what you're doing with that?" There's room for them if they dare to get closer, but Frisk isn't expecting that they will.
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They motion for the other to move aside a little - interpersonal contact, even accidental, is not something they want here - and slowly, carefully, hold the pole close to the tip and slide it down the length of the impaling stick until it, too, enters the wound, just a little.
Honestly, twelve year olds doing surgery is probably not the best idea. They glance at the demon to make sure they're pulling, and pull back as well. Ideally the second stick should act as a third grip, but who knows what's happening here.
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The second one sinks in, more red welling up to spill over fuur. It's strangely gummier than blood should be.
Frisk finds it somehow harder for a moment, but in frustration they give up on the grip with one hand and force a finger inside between the sticks. Sparks rumbles lowly in pain, but it seems to work--several inches slide out in one fluid movement.
This also makes another charge thrum up their arm. Hopefully Chara's more than a few inches away, or some might arc from Frisk's elbow right to them.
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Strangely, revenge is not on their mind. Throw a boot at a dog, get bit. This was a natural consequence. Even if he's not an animal by the other's instruction, he's enough like one that Chara is unconsciously giving him more leeway than they ordinarily would. The Snowdin Guards are the same way.
Instead, they watch as part of the stick slides out. Well then, all that has to be done is to repeat that, and hope the splinters left inside won't be too much of a concern. They communicate this to the other with a circling of the index finger of their free hand.
They flinch when the electricity hits, a muscle spasm which jerks the second stick within Sparks, likely aggravating the wound.
Whoops.
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Sparks has had enough of this, jolting and quickly rolling to his feet, enough to buffet Frisk to the side--they've got enough of a grip on the first stick that it doesn't slip from their fingers, but actually finally exits the wound.
He takes a jump to the side, away from the humans both and growling an exasperated note. Done. The other stick's still hanging from inside his skin, but far less deeply than the first.
Frisk sighs. "Can't leave that there," they tell him before their eyes slide back to Chara.
They stare awkwardly for a moment. "...Thanks."
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(no subject)
and then this leads into the overload : D