Aaron Barnett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
exuviiated) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
castle_perrault2017-01-07 08:45 pm
exuviiated) wrote in castle_perrault2017-01-07 08:45 pm
Entry tags:
[event][open] past brought forwards
note: due to not wanting to hurt myself too much emotionally, narration will be correct. aaron still looks very much like not a boy though.
He wakes up somewhere he's never seen before. He's not even in a bed-- he's in a pile of blankets in what appears to be a giant library. There's a backpack next to him, a sketchpad filled with notes, and...
nothing much else. He picks himself off of the blankets and adjusts his shirt, and then makes his way out of the library and through the halls. It's early morning, early enough that the sun isn't gracing the horizon in more than a pale blue glow visible through the windows. Handling stairs is a struggle, as always, with his bandages-- he manages to reach each open room with little more than strained breath. He ends up in the kitchen. No surprises there; it's warm and as clean as a castle kitchen can get, and it's more likely people will filter in throughout the day. He grabs himself a cup of some sort of juice (cranberry, a sip confirms) and sits himself down on a stool in the corner, and waits.
He wakes up somewhere he's never seen before. He's not even in a bed-- he's in a pile of blankets in what appears to be a giant library. There's a backpack next to him, a sketchpad filled with notes, and...
nothing much else. He picks himself off of the blankets and adjusts his shirt, and then makes his way out of the library and through the halls. It's early morning, early enough that the sun isn't gracing the horizon in more than a pale blue glow visible through the windows. Handling stairs is a struggle, as always, with his bandages-- he manages to reach each open room with little more than strained breath. He ends up in the kitchen. No surprises there; it's warm and as clean as a castle kitchen can get, and it's more likely people will filter in throughout the day. He grabs himself a cup of some sort of juice (cranberry, a sip confirms) and sits himself down on a stool in the corner, and waits.
no subject
To them, he hasn't seemed the slightest bit rude.
"It'd make stuff cook faster, too. I think. I miss microwaves more." Maybe they shouldn't be having a nostalgia trip right in front of a new person, but that thought occurs a little too late. They busy themselves by poking the stove logs a little more.
no subject
He immediately bites his tongue, because his own curiosity is getting the better of him. "...here, let me chop some vegetables or something."
no subject
Vegetables...? "Okay. We can make a stew!" Frisk perks up.
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He'd checked.
"I know the layout. I'll set everything up if you take care of the meat."
no subject
They do grab him a knife, though, yanking it free of the block with an unnecessarily dramatic flourish.
no subject
He takes it. "Sounds good to me."