thunderbolts and lightning

[collectyourfriends]

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.

Comments

sorry, lovin' this guy, so much to explore

[voidster]

Day Eight.

Something like wrists appeared under his pseudo-sleeves on day five, and now he's wearing an old repaired watch. Some individuality. If he is an individual. It may help others to tell him apart, assuming there are still other iterations of himself wandering around, and not just him.

The constant ticking helps ground him, too. See, time is passing linearly again, second by second instead of all at once.

He's in the library where he's been for the past ten hours, reading, when he becomes aware he's been hearing the most peculiar noises. Booms. Rumbles. Things blowing up? Is the castle under attack? They're getting more frequent, whatever they are.

So. He finds his way outside, still carrying his book, glad that this time the castle cooperated and made it easy.

It's raining. He's never seen rain before. Mesmerized, he stares up at the sky and the lightning, long enough for the book to be ruined. In all his absent minded wonder, he's forgotten he brought it with him. Oops!

np!

[collectyourfriends]

Frisk's focused mostly on hunching over their meal, trying to keep it from getting completely soaked. Not that they're picky, or they wouldn't be out here in the first place.

Sparks isn't focused at all, he's just venting through strikes and howling, and when he spots movement on the edge of his vision he whirls and snarls at him, too. Leave or you'll be fought.

It's a noise they recognize, enough to distract them into looking up and around for the 'opponent'.

[voidster]

Excuse me? go his long graceful fingers.

Good gracious, why is everyone here so violent? Stabbed repeatedly (harmlessly) by Chara, threatened with a spear by Kalak...

The Manectric doesn't strike him as odd in the slightest. Monsters come in many shapes. Looks don't matter.

You may try. You'll probably be disappointed. I'm a poor fight these days.

[collectyourfriends]

Neither of them have an idea what he's saying. Frisk has a way of voicelessly commanding, but that's far from a genuine sign language. He's trying to communicate something, but that's all they understand.

...He looks a little like a skeleton. That means monster, weak. It's enough to get them on their feet and hurrying toward him, sharply shaking their head back at Sparks. No battle here.

Unfair comes next, a snarl that dissolves into half a whine, but they're not going to cave on this one.

"You need to leave. It's dangerous to be up high in a storm."

[voidster]

Kind of you to worry, but I believe I'm beyond harm.

He lifts his hands, looking through the hole in his palm at the sky. Ah, rain. It feels very very good, to stand here with the sky falling on his face. Nothing at all like Waterfall's constant dripping.

(There's a book on the ground by his... feet. If there are feet under his coat.)

And then his attention turns back to them.

I'd rather not miss it.

[collectyourfriends]

For a split-second they flash their teeth in something that's not a smile. They don't get it, and they'd call him a liar if they did.

They push a hand towards the center of his chest area, trying to give him a bit of a shove. Not a rough one, mind you, but one that'd get their point across more clearly. "Hey. 'S a lot of castle you can be in. Take you and your book and go." They nudge said book with a toe.

[voidster]

Oh, you can't understand me, can you? Well, it was bound to happen eventually. Many monsters can't read his signing. It was always a pain whenever he needed a translator.

It's beyond ruined, he realizes when he scoops the book up. Shame. All the brains he has and he didn't stop to think paper plus water equals a bad time. He gestures up at the falling sky with his book, shaking his head, tapping his unbroken eyesocket and shrugging. Too wet out here to write a note. Will his point come across to the human?

[collectyourfriends]

Their hand meets his chest and ew. It feels...squishier than it should, even with the rain soaking it, and they withdraw their hands to their sides. Okay, so that's not working.

He's only gesturing with the book, as far as Frisk can tell. Up. At the spectacle, right?

"You can look at the lightning somewhere else."

[voidster]

If. They insist. Perhaps he's being rude, intruding upon them. His head tilts back in silent laughter and delight that he cannot control--which beats melting in front of yet another person--and he shrugs again. What a worrywart the human is. They resemble what Frisk might look like when older, come to think about it.

He waves a hand at the sky a second time, smile not fading, and turns to go. ...Away from the door he exited from. Gaster is more than willing to give the human space. Not to miss the rain. The respite could end at any moment, he must seize the day.

[collectyourfriends]

"Not in the storm!"

...Sparks is laughing at them. They give him a glower that is, unsurprisingly, completely ineffective.

"There are clouds up here. The lightning's gonna spread. Which'll hurt and probably kill you if it hits," Frisk says, jabbing a finger at the sky. Does he get it yet?

[voidster]

Hahaha. Ha. Do they think he's a child? He waves his free hand through the air, shaking his head quite firmly and splaying long fingers across his chest. No, not me. A finger jabs towards them, as he tilts his head simultaneously--you? How do they plan to survive the lightning?

[collectyourfriends]

"...He won't hit me," they nod to Sparks who's still laughing with obnoxious crackling half-barks, "but he might strike you. Not too happy with monsters. And the lightning won't hit me if I'm near him." They'll be perfectly fine. So go already.

[voidster]

A low buzzing sigh. Not too happy with his kind? Then the doglike creature must not be his kind. What else he could be, Gaster doesn't know and can't ask.

He repeats his first gesture again, touching his chest and shaking his head resolutely.He's good, really, and it would be a long walk down to see the storm from below. Stop nagging, you're not his mother.

(Or a large goatman with the tendacy to carry lighter smaller people off over his shoulder. He finds himself smiling.)

forgive slow, rly working out voice here

[collectyourfriends]

"Why can't you ever listen?"

You as in you monsters, never getting out of the way!

"If you die, it's your own fault," they say tightly.

ayyyy don't care

[voidster]

E v e r ?

Has he met them and proceeded to not-listen before? Go figure. It's getting to be routine, re-meeting people.

He presses a finger onto the watch for a moment, then begins his gestures. Hand on his chest, a firm shake of the head, and that same hand flipping over, palm facing upward... followed by both fleshless index fingers jabbing at each other as he shakes his head a second time.

I can't die. No pain.

Please, please understand.

[collectyourfriends]

They don't. They really don't. Or care.

They respond by lifting their hands up and making another rough shoving motion. Not sign language, but the meaning's probably clear.

"Then just--go away."

[voidster]

It was worth a shot. Short of actually being hit by lightning (which he has no control over), what else can he do to prove he's safe? Ah, well. It'll be a bit of a trek, since the corridors keep shifting... but he'll find another way out and watch the weather there. Because the nagging up here is a bit much.

He turns to glide back inside, with a parting shrug. Almost as an afterthought, he tosses the ruined book over the edge. Note to self: find something to write on--a notebook, if nothing else--and try not to ruin that too. This must not happen again because he's too distracted to be properly prepared.

Later on, he'll be roaming the halls with a Convenient Portable Mini Chalkboard, looking for more useful things, one room at a time. (Of course, he avoids all bedrooms.)

[collectyourfriends]

Things've calmed down after a while. The storm itself for one, settling into a simple shower with lightning; Frisk and Sparks for another, now that there's been a 'battle'.

Frisk rounds a corner and spots the monster, expression falling blank. Sparks greets him with a laughing bark. Fearless one, foolish one.

[voidster]

Ah. Them again. Now he has a businesslike flat satchel hanging off his... shoulder area... to go with the golden watch plucked out of a piece of cake. Plenty of room for anything useful, if there is anything, and also a way to distinguish himself from the other himself.

He pauses, holding up a finger (one moment), and takes out the chalkboard, writing away. It's rather rushed handwriting. Holding it up:

'Functionally immortal. No pain felt. It has been tested. In no danger.'

[collectyourfriends]

Frisk is still clearly skeptical.

"You're...what? Not a monster? Don't look like you knew what rain was." How could he test being lightning-proof?

[voidster]

A wry smile follows. He erases the first message and continues.

'Yes and no. Unique monster, long story. Have not seen a storm before. I apologize for worrying you.'

[collectyourfriends]

"Yeah. Don't do that again. You might think you're that, but one hit can turn you into ashes--" wait, no, the monsters have another word for it. "...Dust. Even if you think you're tough, or not a monster," they rasp.

(Toriel, they're so sorry.)

[voidster]

Write, erase. Write, erase. It's so much slower than sign--he can't say he missed this.

'Don't worry if I do. Please. Would take some time to write down a full explanation.'

[collectyourfriends]

A shadow flickers across their face.

"...We got time here." They're not going to let it go so easily. "Or you could just say you won't do anything that dumb in the future. Then we can be all done with this."

[voidster]

Poor thing. It seems a good half of the people he's met here seem to be chronic worriers. Why they think he would lie, he doesn't know...

Possibly because he's going to lie.

Scratch scratch of chalk on board.

'Very well. No more stupidity.'