[Post-Event Post] I don't need safety, I've grown up

[itstheend]

They wake up.

They wake up, and for a moment it's a confusion as two sets of impulses try to sit up, try to roll over, what is this why can't I move-

It all comes flooding back, and the thrashing, twitching body goes still, glassy eyed, panting.

*...
*Hi Chara.

Breathe. Breathe.

*Sorry I kicked you out.

Chara groans and presses their palms to their eyes. There's a dual storm of self-loathing here, turbulence kicked up by the past crashing into the future. Things that neither wanted to come to light, exposed. Breathe.

Well then. Damage control. Lock this all away and focus on getting up. They've been sleeping under a bench in the chapel this past month - they touch the back of their head with their fingers where they just cracked it on the pew. Didn't notice, in the heat of the moment. It seems that the Castle always shoves Frisk back into Chara.

They get up, and start walking - no particular destination, but places they are avoiding. The library. The balcony. The swings, certain spots in the garden, the kitchens. They just need to run, and they do, and when running's not enough, when their legs burn and their lungs are filled with knives from the cold air they screech to a halt and scream and punch a window, bright glass shattering, before turning on a vase. Anything inanimate nearby is getting destroyed.

Frisk makes no move to stop them.

For Poke-Frisk and Sparks:

There's something that needs to be done, and it has to be done sooner rather than later. Frisk would prefer to give the apology in person but... that would raise some questions they don't think Chara would particularly want to answer right now.

While they do have control over the body (it aches - Chara themself has retreated to a ball at the far back, spent) they spend some time making enquiries - they don't know where the Frisk with red eyes and the dog monster live, and need to to slide this under a door. They've written an apology letter (and not a Bureau of Communication one).

They feel terrible about attacking Sparks -  they're pretty sure that was Sparks, even if he looked different - and it profusely says so.

Comments

[itstheend]

The sunk cost fallacy does not serve anyone well.

"Then perhaps you can see why I am uneager to in my own way," they state. The tone is casual, explanatory, rather than sharp. This is as soft as Chara is willing to get right now. They spotted that tensing.

Only once. The memory must be fresh.

Chara suddenly feels very old, older than this Frisk, which is stupid since they appear to be roughly the same age. They shake it off.

"If it is any consolation," it probably won't be. "The monsters here will not try to take your soul."

No, they'll hurt you in other ways, but Chara isn't going to just spill all that. Perhaps they've said too much as it is.

[voidster]

His hand clasps his own wrist, feeling the tick of the golden wristwatch he always wears. It's one of two things on his person that actually exists, that isn't a part of this strange voidmatter he's become. Thinking, as the seconds tick by and remind him time goes on. Whatever helps and causes no one else any trouble is good.

His hands jerk into motion after a short awkward silence, a little less steady. That gives away his mood more than his bland expression. [Bodiless. Outside time, outside space. Countless timelines. I was limited to what happens below our mountain, at least, but--far too much information to filter through easily. Believe me, the two of you were not the focus of my attention.]

[dustless]

"Thank you." Frisk can manage on their own, and it doesn't guarantee somebody might find them some other way. It's still a giant weight off their shoulders.

Finally, they unstick their face from the window. (There's a nice print of half their face on the glass there.)

"If it all shifts, we probably won't be able to get to it. A center, a control thing, something to even just talk to. There--there was...I did, I looked for something like that before. Didn't notice anything then." Frisk doesn't think they messed up--doesn't want to think they could've.

[itstheend]

[I agree. Far too much, indeed.]

They didn't see anything of themself or Frisk when they dug. Which means things were being hidden. It's a red hot thought, because what did they miss.

The irony that they're feeling like this because they didn't have all the information and yet are angry at Gaster knowing things about them he shouldn't fails to occur to them. Mostly because they feel it is justified given the imbalance occuring then. The past tense is more of a comfort than they would like.

Something of what Gaster says resonates with Frisk, but they stay silent. They press the memories of their meeting with the younger Gaster into Chara's mind (skipping over some things and emphasising others) and withdraw to let them draw their own conclusions.

Chara, wracked with a festering uncertainty under the smile, digs. They smell weakness easily, and the focus on the wristwatch at their statement-question carries the scent.

"How did you come to be such a way, Doctor?"

Is it reproducible?

[voidster]

[No.] He cuts them off with both the word and a sharp shake of his head. Nope. No.

When his 'skin' ripples, it literally squirms, faintly. And that shouldn't be so. It's disturbing even to him, yet he can't seem to will it to stop. Congratulations, Chara, you've found something that genuinely seems to unsettle the man. Now what?

[I've told no one how the accident happened. I certainly won't hand you a weapon like that, to use on myself or anyone else. Including yourself. I wouldn't wish that on you and Frisk.]

Not a clue, not a hint. They'll get nothing from him, despite the fact that it's not possible to do here in their little pocket world, and probably impossible anywhere else, too. Stonewalled.

[itstheend]

Chara is a little too caught up in the very attractive idea to realise the inherent 'well you didn't try hard enough then' in the proposing of it, if the other really did try.

"That makes things a great deal more difficult," they say, thinking. They do think the other Frisk to be competent in this area, so if they say they didn't notice, then it's extremely likely there was nothing to notice.

Their expression shifts from sudden disgruntlement to neutrality as their Frisk pushes to say something, talking to both parties..

"When, um, I was a ghost, I went through a lot of the Castle." Literally, as walls were no obstacle. "I didn't see anything like that either." So if it does exist, it's not in a room barring physical access, probably. There's always that 'moves around' factor.

Chara switches back in, glaring down at their knees. "There has to be a cause. This is not something that simply happens without reason!"

It can't be. There has to be something for them to latch their teeth into.

[dustless]

Frisk didn't have high hopes in finding anything in the first place.

Still. They can (almost) never resist trying to help someone.

"It doesn't...we don't know much about it." The Castle itself. They tap their fingers on their knees, putting together facts they can think of: "It's magic. We think it's alive, but we don't...we're not even sure 'bout that. It can fix what's broken or eaten, it can change stuff inside it, us and...stuff. The...the...like those decorations, and food. It never talked--spoke to any of us, even when we tried, or even if we break stuff, accident or on purpose..."

They lean back, thinking about the age thing, the change thing earlier.

"...it just does stuff. It doesn't--it doesn't pick, I think. For punishments."

[itstheend]

No...?

(Perhaps it's a good thing. The possibility has certainly been explored elsewhere.)

They watch him squirm, and the satisfaction is mired by frustration. No, expecting him to tell would be too easy. Perhaps they could find the answer, if they dug deep enough in those memories, but it's bad enough they have them - they aren't going to try right now, in front of him.

"So it was an accident." You've managed to reveal at least that much to them, Gaster. An accident, not something deliberate, on himself or another's part. And he is a Doctor... "A workplace accident, perchance?" It's not like people just trip and accidentally send themself out of space and time (says Chara, who unknowingly inadvertantly glitched there once as a result of heinous sequence breaking).

"And it happened in the Underground, evidently." That one's somewhat obvious, but that does narrow it down. Somewhere there was a place where Gaster worked, where there is something usable. They just need to find it, when (if) they get back.

*...

"Thank you, you have been very helpful." And they smile at him, just to rub it in.

chara pls

[voidster]

More ripples in the 'cloth' of his coat and sleeves. They've spread. It's involuntary and disgusting, and not the worst thing going on. (It would be another story if he were melting.)

This has to be more than them simply trying to 'punish' him by asking such disturbing questions. The only question is who they want to target. Themselves? Someone else? Him? Everyone? The deep, deep, deep horror of it all keeps him rooted in place--he'd be sickened if that were possible.

So. He can't control the surface of his body. He can at least keep his motions fairly smooth and calm. He can let his mind float away, and drift. It's already begun. It happens sometimes, whether he's in the middle of something upsetting or not.

[You've lost all right to judge me, I suppose, if you're considering doing such a thing. Because one way or another, you'll be taking someone else with you.] A short pause. [I'm sorry, Frisk.]

[itstheend]

"It would be difficult for it to communicate, if it is living," Chara replies in turn, sounding out ideas. It's a Castle, after all. "But not impossible."

Their Frisk tosses them the idea of a seance, half jokingly and half serious. Yes or no questions, and things they know the Castle to be able to do.

Indifference can be worse than malice, sometimes, in Chara's book. At least with malice, someone cares in their hurting of you. They agree that it feels like punishment, and they deserve such, but fighting against it is ingrained in them now.

"If we cannot find a way to make them cease, we must find a way to escape."

They are well aware they're on their last thread. Fight when running doesn't work. Run when fighting doesn't work. It's their Frisk that introduced them to SPARE.

this kid has no chill or grace to give also cw suicide stuffs

[itstheend]

They keep hitting escape, but they're still here. If being outside space and time means you can never be touched or hurt again... it's a tempting thought. A very tempting one. Their smile becomes sour and rictus at his next words.

Lost all right to judge him? No. His compassion on someone else's behalf makes them feel sick and angry and aching - inexplicably wounded, and they hate it, that part of them that thinks 'what makes Frisk so special?'. Why does Frisk get the apology, when Gaster hasn't even done anything to them? But they already know, don't they? They're the demon. They exist to cause and accept pain. They don't even like apology.

"There are some things. That are worse. Than that. Would you not agree, Doctor?"

They will not take Frisk with them. Frisk's presence has been the anchor keeping them from the Edge, over and over again. But events here do separate them, apparently. They have only to wait.

*Chara...
*I don't want that either!

Well it's a good thing they don't care what Frisk wants! They can go live with this Gaster that seems to like them so much, and be a happy family or some such thing, without Chara's poisonous presence!

They don't bother trying to dissuade him of the fact. They're a murderer, plain and simple, and it doesn't matter if they spare even one, that deserved stain is never coming off.

*...

"I will judge you as much as I please. This does not compare."

and of course cw for endless body horror

[voidster]

Some things worse than that. This does not compare. Is it not murder they're thinking of? Is it--

A fist-sized droplet of... matter drips off his back, falling upwards and then downwards in defiance of all things sane. Disgusting, and the rest of him hasn't quit flowing in odd ways. Is this what you want to become, Chara?

He has four hands to sign with now. Two simultaneous conversations frantically begin, the urge to shout breaking through the haze he's found himself trapped in. What the hell has he done because he told the truth? Why, why, why does he never learn?

[You cannot! At no point did I say it was painless! There is nothing worse, you can't possible imagine what it is, how very very long it will last--]
[Frisk, you must do everything you can to stop them--do you see me? It should never happen again to anyone--]

[dustless]

"If it can change us an' itself so much, think it could do something if it tried," Frisk replies dryly, weaving their scarf between their fingers.

They angle their eyes from Chara to the wall. Is the Castle listening right now? Maybe. Somehow, they doubt this'll be what provokes it into finally talking.

A bird flicks past in the window. Idly, they remember the Aviary was much quieter when they visited it with all the snow.

"That would be...a good option for a lot 'f people. But we dunno where to start there either? Not flying, or falling--not even dying gets anybody out." It's got strong magic, and even with it's apparent SAVES for the castle's residents, it's not the kind Frisk knows of. "People've tried, Chara. They really have," Frisk says, tired and sad.

[itstheend]

Chara's response is a small nod - exactly so. They follow the other's gaze automatically. Feeling of being watched intensifies. They turn their gaze back out the window at the movement in the side of their vision.

"It sounds like there is some kind of Barrier at work. Did the," they feel bile on their tongue and in their throat just thinking of it, but they have to ask. They have to be able to guage exactly what they're up against here. "Absolute God of Hyperdeath attempt to break it, when he had the SOULs?"

'The SOULs', like they weren't one of them. They weren't aware of much, but they were aware there were others. Absorption is something they never want to experience again.

They wonder if this sort of impossible problem is what monsters felt they were up against, before humans fell. They don't doubt that others have tried, but they have to be sure themself.

*...

[itstheend]

They've melted before. Twice, in fact. At least this would mean it's their choice. It is a little less appealing, but not by much.

"You assume I am a stranger to pain." They have died so, so many times. It's never been painless.

You can't imagine how this feels. Well they can give it the old college try.

Their teeth grind and their hands fist as he once more addresses Frisk. "Frisk is not the arbiter of my actions, Doctor. Do not presume they hold power over me." Never again.

*Chara.

One word, and an unspoken request for control in the steel of it, and what causes Chara to acquiesce is that that steel is not directed towards them. Frisk is finally making their move, and they're not happy.

The fists uncurl and Frisk regards Gaster with an unreadable expression. The next statement is firm and flat.

"You're not helping."

They'll be a bit more concerned with how that could be read in a second, but right now they're focused on making a capital T Timeout.

[voidster]

He roils and ripples and banishes the extra set of hands, attempting to get a handle on his mind. Do that, and his sludge will calm the fuck down.

It's not easy. It isn't working. Time seems to slow to a crawl and all he can feel is horror at the concept of these two lost children trapped in his former prison. (He may blame himself later, but right now there's no room for self-recrimination. It's far too personal for him to be logical, distant, adult.)

Agonizingly slowly, he manages one word. [Frisk?]

[dustless]

Frisk's own skin crawls with memory. Not because of what Asriel did, not fully, but what they wanted to do. How bad they hated.

That determination.

"It--that wasn't--not 'zactly. He...was...he tried to take it over. To break the actual castle, an' the timeline, to make sure...nothing bad happened again. Didn't work," they say, toneless and needlessly.

[itstheend]

Frisk's expression loses some of it's diamond-hard edge. Both kids operate in different ways - Chara bares their fangs, but Frisk prefers to keep their claws hidden, and even tries to convince themself they don't exist at all.

They sign in return - something about that just feels right, somehow.

[Um. Yes.] A pause. [Hi.]

A small half-wave, the fingers curling down onto the palm. They didn't think through much past this point, but they still have to ask, before anything else gets done, brows pinching. [Are you okay?] First things first.

There's a pulse of discontent from Chara. Frisk sends I-know-what-I'm-doing back, and while there's a response of I-doubt-that in return, Chara settles somewhat, watching hawklike.

[voidster]

No, no, no, not okay. It's not as if he can pop in and sit down with a therapist. Not here. Not ever--his story is hard to swallow even for a fellow monster.

The waves of motion continue, making him ripple like something disgusting dredged up from the sea floor.

[Child. I do not think I can help. Perhaps you should leave.]

That would be better, he thinks. There isn't much he can say, is there? Not in this state.

[itstheend]

If that much raw power couldn't do it, then that doesn't bode well for this idea. A repeat of using souls is off the table, as far as Chara's concerned - they doubt there'd be that much consent, and doing it without... no.

They start laughing, hysterically. "This certainly is a fine trap we find ourselves in!"

They want out, one way or another, so, so much. It burns in them, in their chest. There's more smashed things in the future, probably.

Their sides hurt, and their eyes sting, but they can't stop.

[itstheend]

Haven't you heard? Frisk is everyone's favourite child therapist... despite no qualifications or really any kind of training at all whatsoever.

One thing they're sure of here, is that they can't just leave things like this - they burn red inside too, too much to easily let things go.

[It's okay.] They try to keep their body language soothing. They don't need any help. He's the one that needs help right now - there's that internal wince at that previous phrasing. They try to think of what might mollify. [Um. Chara can't use it anyway.]

Neither of them know what it is, and even if Frisk did they wouldn't tell. That's not the important part. [They're nicer than you think. They wouldn't kill me. Not unless I hurt them bad again.]

This, Frisk is confident of, despite a vehement internal threat being tossed their way and rolling off like water. They wouldn't kill Frisk at this point, and they can't be separate in the Underground, so it can't be done. So unless a... the thing... shows up in the Castle somehow it's more a of thought exercise on Chara's part rather than something that can actually happen, is the point Frisk is trying to convey.

[voidster]

He crouches down, the place where gloopy flesh meets flesh fusing together, making it yet another bizarre sight. And holds up one finger. A moment. Just a moment, to scrape around for some semblance of rationality.

Then:

[They certainly won't believe this, but I don't want either of you to suffer. The thought of this happening to Chara is... disturbing. It shouldn't happen to anyone. Possible or not, it unsettles me.]

Understatement of the year, right there. It doesn't matter if it's speculation, see. Too raw. He made that obvious--he's still twitching involuntarily, though less than before.

[itstheend]

Frisk quietly gives him the moment to pull himself back together. They can temper red with cyan when they need to, and he needs it. Their brow is crinkled in concern, but they can't try an attempt at comforting touch in the body of the touch-averse. Not without tipping the scales of the delicate balance of power in a way they're unwilling to risk.

There's a bark of a laugh in the back of the mindscape when Gaster signs. No, Chara doesn't believe it. Not when they have suffered, and likely will again, and while the tower of their seeing all Gasters as facets of one individual has been struck a blow to the foundations here today, it is still standing.

Doesn't want either of them to suffer doesn't presume that suffering won't happen.

They would like to not suffer, very much.

It has more of an effect on Frisk, who has their own plans lying elsewhere. [Sorry], they say automatically, because even though they weren't the one that initially pressed and dug, they could have done more to stop it, or not have continued speaking of it. [Shouldn't've happened to you either.]

There's guilt there, and they don't know why. There's usually guilt, even for things that logically they can acknowledge they didn't have all that much control over.

[voidster]

[Beside the point.]

No, it shouldn't have. None of the many decent men who are all him, all out there trying to hold onto themselves. Irrelevant. This shouldn't be about him, he lost control and made it so anyway, and the least he can do is try to steer the conversation away from his condition a little.

[I should apologize, myself.] Not Frisk, hardly. [That... was an overreaction on my part. I'm aware.]

More understating it all, for the sake of not having to admit he panicked. They already know, he doesn't need to.

[dustless]

Bad laughter. And...Frisk's staring at Chara like they've grown two heads, since this is old news, isn't it?

They're not going to try to stop them in this, either, because there's nothing they can even think of that would.

In fact, something cracks deep in their throat, and they've got to put a hand to their own mouth to muffle a few panicked giggles themselves.

"Guess so," they manage to spit out.