hogswatch

[ashkente]

Someone's been festive all over the ballroom. Lights and little paper sausages are strung up everywhere, there's a decorated potted tree and...

One of the castle skeletons has given up his normal black robe for a red and white one, and has a sack to go with his scythe. He's even wearing a fake beard, somehow. There are so many children running about here, and no real Hogfather in sight. So. There was only one thing he could do.

He's going to sit in this chair all day--the cake is sure to be remembered and some poor presentless child is going to wander in for sweets. And these children aren't creeped out by skeletons. Here's hoping he inspires smiles, not tears and screams.

It was one of the best nights of his long, long unlife, taking the Hogfather's place. It's only natural he'd want to do it again in a place it won't break reality!

(Because that's bad and tends to get Susan angry with him.)






((Blame Pokemon Moon for this being a day late. Let me know if you don't want him giving your kiddo whatever they ask for! He's Dᴇᴀᴛʜ. He does what he wants.))

Comments

[justletmewin]

Now here's a skeleton he doesn't remember! Someone else must have taken over Santa's role for Gyftmas... it's hard for him to believe it's already holiday weekend, but Asriel doesn't keep the best track of time, all things considered.

"Howdy!" It's not that he's afraid--just shy. This is indicated as the small goat child approaches nearer toward Death's throne.

[ashkente]

Well. We can't all be Death, who always knows what time it is. He (continues to) grins at the goat-boy, voice hollow and eerie when he does speak.

"Hᴀᴘᴘʏ Hᴏɢsᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ. I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ. Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ?"

[justletmewin]

"Hogswatch?" Is that a human holiday? But he never recalled Chara or Frisk talking about it... "I'm Asriel. Who are you?"

[ashkente]

"Dᴇᴀᴛʜ. Bᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ." He adds, hastily. Otherwise people might tend to panic, and who can blame them?

"Hᴏɢsᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ɪs ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ Cʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ Rᴏᴜɴᴅᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, I ᴛʜɪɴᴋ."

[justletmewin]

It's cool, Death. He used to be an Angel of Death himself, and there were plenty of times he wished he could meet Death. But let's change the subject.

"Ohh, Christmas! I know Christmas! Sort of. We celebrate Gyftmas in the Underground, which is kind of similar." Asriel smiles. "So... does that mean you're Santa?"

[ashkente]

"Tʜᴇ Hᴏɢғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ. I'ᴠᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ʜᴇ ʜᴀs ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴅᴜᴛʏ: ʙʀɪɴɢɪɴɢ ɢɪғᴛs ᴛᴏ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ."

There's... Is that a pillow on his lap? Is he patting the pillow with a gloved hand?

(Yes.)

[justletmewin]

"Well, Hogfather..." Asriel says as he settles on the pillow. "There's something I want, but... I just hope you'll be able to give it to me. If you can't, I understand."

[ashkente]

"I ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅᴏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇsᴛ." he says, very serious. And when Death is serious, or more serious than he sounds by default... It's perhaps a little overdramatic.

[justletmewin]

Asriel swallows.

"...I want a soul of my own. I'd like to have it with me wherever I go. So in case I wake up and I'm not on the island anymore... I'll still have it."

He's grateful the island lets him keep his own body... but he just can't risk it anymore.

[ashkente]

Well. It isn't someone asking for him to kill or otherwise harm... the only things he'd have to refuse on the spot. But creation? That's beyond him, however hard he tries.

"Wʜʏ? Wʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀs ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏᴜʟ?"

[justletmewin]

"Um... I think I was supposed to have met you? A long time ago, I died and turned into dust. My dust helped grow a patch of flowers, and one of the flowers got used for an experiment and..." Asriel smiles nervously. "I sort of... got brought back to life? But I didn't have a soul anymore, so I couldn't love or care about anyone. No matter how hard I tried... and I ended up doing some really horrible things. Because I was bored. Because I wanted to feel something again."

[ashkente]

"Nᴏ. Oɴʟʏ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ Dɪsᴄᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ."

Imagine that--in his own way, Death's an alien. Sort of. This Death, anyway.

He's musing out loud, it sounds like? "Yᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏɴᴇ. Yᴏᴜ ᴏɴʟʏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ..."

[justletmewin]

Ahh, a different Death. Not the Grim Reaper, like Chara described.

"But my soul shattered. How can you be sure it still exists?"

[ashkente]

"Iᴛ ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴇxɪsᴛ. Iɴ ᴍᴀɴʏ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇs. I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ sᴜʀᴇ, sᴏᴜʟs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Dɪsᴄᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ sʜᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. Dᴏᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ?"

It's logical (?) enough. What could actually destroy all the pieces?

[justletmewin]

"When our Souls shatter in my world, they disappear. I guess I... hadn't thought of shards surviving before."

He snapped Frisk's soul in half repeatedly as Hyperdeath. It was the first time in all his resets he'd ever seen a soul break, but not shatter. (But it refused.)

"Maybe with... Determination?"

Could one really have enough Determination to do that? Would one be so determined that even their soul's shards had to be pulverized in order to kill them completely? But the implications of that is a whole other can of worms. As is Determination in general.

"Hogfather... Do you think pieces of my soul still exist inside me? Is that why I can't feel it, because they're so small and broken?"

Broken. Ha ha... ha ha ha... not exactly a word Asriel wants to think about.

[ashkente]

"I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. Tʜᴇ sᴏᴜʟs I ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ sʜᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ. Oᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪsᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ɴᴏ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏsᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ."

He severs souls from corpses. He collects. He escorts them onwards to wherever it is each soul is meant to go. But that's the Discworld, not Earth, which is far far away.

Still. He can take a closer look, peering with more than his eyes and checking for any shreds of soul. That much is possible.

[itstheend]

So uh. These kids, if they knew they would get what they asked for, might wish for him to act in his more... official capacity. As it were.

As it is, it's Frisk in control when they peer around the corner of the ballroom. They recognize him, even with a santa suit on (good, sad memories), and trot over to him happily, signing a greeting.

[Hi! D'you have any more good jokes?]

The thought of them getting presents hasn't even occured to them, they just want to say hello.

Meanwhile, Chara is internally wondering why sausages.

[ashkente]

Because hogs. Because pork. Sausages, pork pies, pigs heads, all sorts of delicious meaty things.

The fact that they're signing doesn't give him pause. He understands, as expected, considering...

"Nᴏᴛ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ." He sounds puzzled? "Iᴛ's Hᴏɢsᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɴɪɢʜᴛ. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴊᴏᴋᴇs ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ."

[itstheend]

[H-O-G-S-W-H-A-T-N-I-G-H-T?]

They're equally as puzzled. What is that? Is it like Gyftmas?

There's a flooding prickling wave of suspicion-fear all over them courtesy of Chara when he mentions something better than jokes, but they're more hopeful about what it might be than their landlord. They're just. Also going to stay where they are, at a distance.

[What is it?]

There's naked curiosity on their face all the same.

[ashkente]

"Hᴏɢsᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ? Tʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴏɢғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʟɪᴍʙs ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴄʜɪᴍɴᴇʏs ᴛᴏ ᴠɪsɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ʙʀɪɴɢɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛs? Eʀ... Tʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ."

His blue eyelights dim, then brighten again, the only part of his expression that ever changes.

"Tʜɪs ɪsɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ I'ᴠᴇ ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ."

[itstheend]

Oh! So it's like his world's version of Christmas, or Giftmas. Frisk tilts Chara's head in close expressioned concern at the dimming, and moves closer to him, coming up to pat Death's bony knee. Sounds like he misses said Hogfather.

[Maybe he'll show up later? Or you'll go back and see him again!]

Please give this kid their present because they're not going to think to ask for one unprompted.

[ashkente]

There's a pillow in his lap, over his knees. He's not stupid, see, nobody wants to sit on bone!

"Oʜ, ɴᴏ. Wᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ. Eʀ..." He gestures towards his pillowed lap. That's how it goes, right? If a child's meeting the Hogfather face-to-face, no presents until they sit in his lap and ask.

...So Albert said, anyway.

sorry for late, was on holiday

[itstheend]

Oh. Frisk spots the pillow and knows what it's for but... they kind of don't want to sit there. And it's mixing with Chara's very strong don't-want-to and getting very loud indeed. It's a point of stress in their chest.

Chara's face is slowly fading into a carefully shuttered deadpanness under Frisk's unconscious control, and they aren't quite fully aware of it.

He gestured, but... he didn't really ask, did he? Or tell. They don't need presents, anyway. (Bad children get coal.)

So they keep signing instead, the still cheery words at odds with their expression. [Maybe it's good he's not here! He deserves a break, right? And you're doing a good job.]

I don't even have an excuse

[ashkente]

There's that puzzlement again. They were cheerful enough until he invited them to sit, and then...? If it's not because he's Death, dressed up as the Hogfather, what is it?

He's pretty good at looking confused for a skeleton with no expressions. Funny, that.

"Yᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛs ʏᴇᴛ."

o7

[itstheend]

Frisk looks at the cushion again, and then back at the skull.

[That's okay.] They don't need presents, it's better even if they go to someone else. If they could give it to Chara they might, but Chara distinctly doesn't want that and Frisk has learnt their lesson about doing things for them without asking. Mostly. But he looks like he'll be sad if he doesn't give them the present...

[You put up all the decorations. And you're dressed up. And you're giving presents. That's a good job.] It's firm. No doubting yourself, Mr. Skeleton.

They really do take after their mother. Deflect, deflect.

[ashkente]

Child. Children. You are getting your presents, no ifs or buts. He's given up Very Unsubtly Hinting, instead reaching into the sack with those long bony gloved hands.

"Oʜ, ɴᴏ. I ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs. Tʜᴇ ᴄᴀsᴛʟᴇ ɪᴛsᴇʟғ ᴅɪᴅ." he says, politely, offering the box to the child(ren). One box. Two presents inside, one for Frisk, one for Chara. It seemed only fitting to do it that way. As for how he already knows what they would have hypothetically asked for... He's Death and the Hogfather, tonight. Of course he knows.

i'm guessing he can give things from their home?

[itstheend]

The Very Unsubtle Hints fell like a sledgehammer, it was the idea they could actually be true that seemed absurd.

[Oh,] they sign, in response to the correction about the decorations, and then slowly blink as they look down at the box. [You didn't have to,] they say, but they take it, because at this point they can't refuse without it being rude, or hurting his feelings - getting this right is clearly very important to him. And they didn't have to sit on his lap, which is good news for Chara.

They open it in front of him for much the same reason - for his sake, so he gets to see. It's simply a matter of lifting the lid, no unpicking of ribbons or ripping of paper required (although that might still happen later, secretly.) They still when they see what's inside, mouth shrinking, and they slowly, carefully reach in, as if trying not to startle a bird.

They withdraw their hand and it's... a locket. Gold, with an inscription on it in flowing script - best friends forever. Chara's fingers are starting to tremor a little when Frisk inserts a fingernail into the heart-shaped pendant and pries it open, even though their expression remains flat and neutral. The photographs inside - a grinning goat monster on one side, whose arm extends to the other side to give a happy-looking Frisk rabbit ears. They're both making peace signs.

I did not know that was inside, Chara says to them, and it is part observation, part question, and part apology, though they would never say it outright.

Frisk slowly closes it, and curls their hand around it, the chain dangling and twisting. It's the original, somehow. Not stolen from a Chara. Not a copy that disappeared when an event ended, unopenable because it was their Chara who requested it and their Chara who didn't know it should be able to. Their eyelids are blinking rapidly and they sniff, but they wipe it on the back of Chara's sleeve and place it in their pocket to dig back down into the box.

Chara's gift is less sentimental. There are many things they could or would have asked for, many what most would call very not suitable for children (Chara is absolutely that child asking for a Real Sword, and also the Sweet Release of the Void), but what is in the box is a very thick book. Frisk sets the empty box down and opens it out of curiosity and - seeds. Packets and packets of them, nestled in hollows on the inside. Names, trivia and instructions for growing next to each. They carefully close it and clasp it to Chara's chest (*It's just for you!) before reluctantly putting it down on the box to get their hands free.

[Thank you,] they sign up at Death, and they mean it, warmth spilling out of them. They sniff again, and wipe their nose again. Ew, Chara thinks at them. Stop making me leak. They snort a great deal of it to the back of Chara's nose. [Thank you,] they sign again, because they can't think of anything else and... oh, they're just going to hug him. Tightly. They can mute the tactile sensation for Chara, who gives a squawk as this happens. From their side of things it's like their entire body ceases to exist and they do not like it at all, Frisk. Stop.

Frisk stops. Reluctantly but quickly pulling back, and equally as hurriedly pushing back sensation. *Sorry, sorry! Sorry. Chara is hyperventilating in the back of the head, Frisk is somewhat distracted simultaneously apologising and trying to help.

Eventually Chara spits out control, Frisk. Now, and the body's sudden blank-eyed middle-distance stare becomes something sharp and alert.

Never do that again.

/hideous wheezing ;;

[ashkente]

For a moment, his eternal grin seems real. A hug is the best thank-you and the best return gift, except for perhaps another cat to love on. With the pillow, the soft red robe, and the fancy leather gloves, he's not all that bad to hug for a skeleton.

He reacts fast enough to hug them back before they're pulling away, ending the moment. Darn. He's still glad it happened, however quickly it ended. Perfect memory. The moment will never fade from his mind.

But--oh, they're upset. It must be the other soul inside the child. This is awkward. He stares right back at them, unreadable. "I ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢɪғᴛs."

fingerguns

[itstheend]

Both children would agree about the cat, but Duchess is her own person and perhaps would not take kindly to being a gift.

Frisk is folding the memory away like a treasure. It's a little piece of home, something tangible, only theirs, something to look at and be reassured they aren't just a product of Chara's mind but were once their own living breathing self, and happy for however short a time.

A hug is the least they can give in return. They feel like they owe him, now (somewhat defeating the point of a gift but baby steps.)

Chara stares back evenly. They think... yes, this is the first time they've been in control around the skeleton - he's a Frisk-only-friend as far as they're concerned. They're not overly fond of skeletons, and this included themself when they were one.

He seems to have worked out something's changed, and the idea of pretending to be Frisk crawls at them badly enough to be immediately booted out. So they don't.

"They are... acceptable."

This is Chara-speak for 'this is a good gift and I want to try it out later' on their part.

"Thank you."

It's said grudgingly, but there's a grain of truthful sentiment to it - not for their own sake but for the muted bittersweet painful happiness they can still feel spilling over from Frisk's side of things. For all that Frisk has a sunny facade, that's rarer than Chara would prefer.

Even if they distinctly not happy with them.

*Just say you like it, it's okay! Says Frisk, neatly steering around that jab of ire.

slowpoke slow

[ashkente]

Frisk can owe him until the end of time, and will probably have to--he's not in the business of wanting presents. Or anything else for that matter, besides a good long vacation sometimes.

"Vᴇʀʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ. Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ." is all Death says, taking the thank you to be as sincere as Frisk's was, apparently. And because it's the Thing To Say when you're a skeleton with pillows stuffed in your red robe, pretending to be the Hogfather and Santa Claus rolled into one: "Bᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ."

[itstheend]

Frisk is fine with this debt. Although if asked, they'd be certain that while Death might be difficult to buy for, it probably wouldn't be impossible. Determination can do amazing things.

Chara laughs at the injunction as they swiftly place the book into the box, the lid stacked on top, and then pull it to their chest. Theirs now. It was given. They, for their part, do not like entering debt, but this is making Frisk happy.

"Unlikey!"

That's their parting shot as they go... a step back and then another and then a bit watching over their shoulder, and then they finally turn their back entirely as they pass through the doorway.

[dustless]

They'd spotted the suit from all the way in the hall. Frisk knows weird, but seeing Death (they think? tall but definitely not Papyrus) in Santa clothes is still worth a doubletake.

"...Ho ho ho?" Frisk greets.

[ashkente]

Sadly, he's used to that sort of reaction. It's normal for people to stare at him like that.

"Hᴏ Hᴏ Hᴏ."

...Okay, even his best effort is worlds away from jolly. But he's a trier!

[dustless]

A try is worth a lot!

"Merry...holidays." Christmas, Gyftmas, they don't know what he might actually be celebrating. "Why're you being Santa?"

[ashkente]

"Wᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ ɪᴛ Hᴏɢsᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ Dɪsᴄᴡᴏʀʟᴅ." he says, helpfully, grinning. "Sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ. Nᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ ᴡᴀs. I ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ I ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʀʏ."

[dustless]

(A skeleton is always grinning.)

"...Why's it called that? An' when--why were you Hogswatch-Santa?" That seems like a rather odd job for Death. Unless the presents he was supposed to give out were rather gruesome.

[ashkente]

(Sometimes they actually mean it.)

"Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴏɢғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴀs ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ ʜᴏɢ. As ғᴏʀ ᴡʜʏ... Bᴇʟɪᴇғ ɪɴ ʜɪᴍ ᴡᴀs ᴅʏɪɴɢ. I ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғɪx ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛs sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ."

[dustless]

Huh. That sounds...like stuff Jack told them about, but with a Santa instead of the Tooth Fairy.

"Oh. Don't think you need to worry 'bout that here, though, if you don't want to do it." Everyone was okay without presents from Santa--or anybody, actually--last year.

[ashkente]

He seems puzzled, now. Why wouldn't anyone want to do it, if they could?

"I ᴅᴏ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ, ɪɴ ʟᴇss ᴅɪʀᴇ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs."

[dustless]

Hey, he might feel like he needs too 'cause there's not a Santa/Hogfather around.

"M'kay. I'm sure there's lotsa cool stuff you can find and make stuff with around the castle."

[ashkente]

"I ᴀᴍ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ғɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪɴɢs." One blue light in his eyesockets flicks out for a second. Is that a wink? Aww. "Wʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ғᴏʀ Hᴏɢsᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ, Fʀɪsᴋ?"