It's a beautiful day--

[dustless]

It's their birthday today.

They kind of wanted to do something for it--bake something, invite a few friends together to play a game, but they can't. They're still dealing with the aftereffects of being hideously sick, and can't help feeling too tired to do much.

That's fine. Nobody--well, almost nobody knows when it is besides them. And they sure don't look probably-eleven, they're still nine-sized...and that's thoughts for some other day.

Frisk's dragged a few giant cushions out into were the sun is, have a blanket to wrap around themselves, just in case. They'll spend the day (what's left of it; they woke up early afternoon) doing their best to just...relax.

Comments

nbd~

[dustless]

They saw the sweater's color and blurted the first thing that came to mind--it's not like they're the only Chara they've made friends with before, anyway. They can't be sure.

Frisk props their head up, resting their head on their hand, and elbow on the cushion pile 'floor'. "Still almost yours. You didn't have to get me stuff..."

They don't hesitate long in working it open with one hand, though, and they don't even start leafing through it before their eyes go wide. There's just a drawn picture on the top, they can tell there's more stuff under it, but they suddenly can't move enough to look through the rest.

"You didn't have to get me stuff," they repeat in a wobbly voice.

They're smiling.

(They're also not answering that question.)

[itstheend]

It's... They're really reminded of when they'd been with the Dreemurrs for a while, and Asriel gave them something. Casually, delighted but casually, like the fact of what he was giving was more important than that he was giving them anything at all, because he'd found it in the dump and thought it was cool and that they'd like it. He'd seen it and thought of them.

They'd said the same thing. It's a little spooky and it makes something in Chara's chest squeeze a bit, and they say what he said then, albiet with the slightest wobble of their own. They can feel Chara themself looking away, embarrassed.

"I didn't have to, but I wanted to!"

They beam. Don't think they didn't notice the question being dodged, but that's okay. It's answer enough, really, and Frisk becomes determined to leave this as a bright spot.

They settle down into the cushion and wait for their counterpart to get to the good stuff, eyes crinkling in happy anticipation. They can take as long as they need.

[dustless]

The papers are lifted so gently, it looks completely absurd.

Here in the castle, Frisk's gotten two gifts before.

Their scarf is one--worn and tattered along the ends in spite of their initial attempts to be careful, but obviously well-loved. Grune doesn't seem upset when she sees it, at least. The other is a kite, handmade by Serif and (S-4) Papyrus--if anyone else had seen them holding it for the first few months of having it, they would've seen the same near-reverence.

All of them made things for Frisk, with their own hands. Maybe they should be saying something, but then they're entirely certain they'll tear up if they try. Nobody needs that right now.

They're still just as touched by the rest of the presents, even if they were things already in the castle. The singing book is paged through with massive grin, and the crayons are rolled between their fingers and delighted in. They've found paint before, but sparingly, and nothing beats just being able to draw things on paper.

Frisk ends up sitting in a semicircle of gifts, smiling so hard their face aches.

"Thank...thank you. Really, really thank you."

[itstheend]

Frisk props Chara's chin on the pillow again, shifting slightly until it's most comfortable and kneading the plush of it in their hands happily. It's... strange to see their other self smiling like this, but in a pleasant way. It's a good smile.

"No problem." Their own doesn't quite match it, but it's getting there. The other's emotion is infectious - maybe because they're the same person in a sense? "The books were Chara's idea," Frisk adds helpfully, neglecting to mention their own contributions. It's a fact that may be somewhat evident given the nature of past interactions, ones that Frisk only knows about because they encouraged Chara to draw some pictures of their own. Those are in a slightly different style.

Speaking off... Frisk tilts their head. "Um. D'you wanna try them out?" It's a tacit invitation for a shared activity if the other likes, but they wouldn't mind at all if their counterpart didn't want to. It's their presents, their crayons and drawings that are blank on the back and their books, after all.

[dustless]

"Um." Seems their voice can crack on a single syllable.

They probably can't get away with not touching them for a while. That's what gifts are for, not just to...look pretty. Only, the crayons can be used up--and it doesn't occur to them to draw on the other drawings, even if it's on the other side. That would be ruining them.

A music book is lifted, but Frisk doesn't open it. Watching them read would be boring, huh?

"Sorry," they say hastily after the silence goes on. "It's...I can't...decide. This is so nice."

[itstheend]

Don't waste paper, _______. Both sides. We're not made of money.

In a way, it's very deliberate. They wouldn't consider it ruining them - Frisk's sense of self-worth extends to the things they create as well - but they'd be touched if they knew that's how the other would see it.

"It's okay, you don't have to," they say once the silence ends - they're pretty patient. And it is okay. Maybe that was pushing too much. They metaphorically pull back a little and sink down into the pillow again. "You're nice." No you. It just sort of comes out, but are they wrong? No they're not.

Honestly, watching their other self read would not be the most boring thing they've done. They live in Chara nowadays after all, and that means compromises like being able to do nothing but watch while the other person engages in an activity that isn't the most interesting to you personally. If that's what they want, that's what's happening. It's their birthday after all. If they want to be left alone to do it, that's fine too.

[dustless]

Frisk makes a funny noise, dramatically putting the book against their face and falling onto their side. (They're very careful not to dislodge anything.) That's a safer action, goofy and not crying.

Really. Don't cry. Please don't cry. As if they weren't already being kind of embarrassing.

They inhale, a messy sort of sound, and the book smells sort of old but in a nice way.

"...but you gave me so much. Didn't think I'd get anything. Or jus'...one thing, 'f I got...stuff."

[itstheend]

It's okay if their other self cries. They've seen them crying before, remember? Their other self's seen them crying too.

Frisk does avert their gaze, though, for the other's sake, the same reason they huff-laugh a little at the dramatic gesture. They can pretend otherwise. They look down at the cushion instead, before smushing their entire face into it.

Their reply is therefore somewhat muffled.

"Was it um. Too much?"

Maybe they went a little overboard (the creeping suspicion that they selfishly assumed a higher level of friendship than there actually is gets tossed out on it's ear, but not without a last whisper), but they got really excited. They lift their head and take an exaggerated gulp of air like they've just surfaced from underwater.

"Sides, Chara wanted to give you something too. So it'd've been at least two things." They nod decisively. "People should get presents on birthdays." Another repetition of their absent sibling's words. Cake, too, but everyone here is really sick of cake. Who'd've thought that could happen?

[dustless]

There's nothing wrong with crying, usually. They just think it's too much for presents. They're just being nice, and they've been nice to them plenty of times before--this is just a nice thing they can hold onto and keep.

Frisk peeks around the book's edge. Maybe they're being too dramatic, making other Frisk (and Chara) hide their face at the same time, if only for a minute.

"Mm-mm. I'm just...um. Dunno. I'm happy. Even 'f I didn't...think I'd have anything." They sniff again, then slide the book halfway down their face. Time for a little deflection, and seriousness: "Yours is soon."

[itstheend]

Even if these two disappeared, these things would still be there. If that makes them cry, then it's exactly enough for presents.

This Frisk is somewhat puzzled by the fact that the other apparently hasn't gotten any presents from anyone else in the Castle yet - surely the other Frisk knows a lot of nice people here? - but maybe people don't know it's their birthday, or that'll happen later in the day. (Good thing they don't know how late they are - it's easily set aside, because they'd rather not think of any alternative.)

They do the same thing themself too often to not pick up on it as a deflection, but they roll with it - to an extent. "Y'don't have to get me anything if'n you don't want. And today's yours."

This is a that-Frisk day, not a this-Frisk day. The sky's the limit.

[dustless]

Nobody knows, they haven't told, and Frisk-and-Chara might be right and they're in the wrong. It doesn't really matter. They're pretty sure the time in the Castle and the time back home were a few months apart anyway, so they might never know when their real birthday is ever again.

"Nooo I want to. I really really want to." Why wouldn't they want to give a friend a gift?

...They should try to ask their other friends' birthdays. Frisk hums a slightly discontent note. Why hadn't that occurred to them before?

And anyway--Frisk finally lifts the book from their face. "And...dunno what to do. People usually have birthday parties, but I'm not." Since nobody knows it, of course.

[itstheend]

Frisk kind of subconsciously finds it difficult to believe they'd be the only one their other self told, if only because that suggests a level of confidence they don't feel they deserve. Being the same person, technically, doesn't really count.

They also connect the tone to the prior statement. Well they can't just... be a hypocrite there. "Um. Okay." Their tone is less unenthused so much as it is that of someone blindsided by this happening. "That's later, though."

They really want to re-emphasise that. This is their birthday. Speaking of.

"D'you want one?" They could have one, easily, Frisk thinks. If the cake-eating party was any indication, some people could probably be gathered. The major question is what to have as a main food thing when cake is something everyone is utterly sick of - and their brain makes an associative skip. "How many candles?"

[dustless]

"...Later," they agree reluctantly, shoving their desire to quiz them on enjoyable stuff somewhere in the back of their head.

Frisk glances at the rain-spattered windows, for some reason. As if that could show them the time, or the date. "Not this time," they say, incidentally stumbling towards other-Frisk's muted thoughts, "nobody really knows, and starting a party late when everybody's all over the castle wouldn't...be fun."

They stretch out. "'Leven. I think. I'm not...actually getting bigger." They're probably going to look nine forever.

[itstheend]

A successful deflection!

(Spooky, how they're on the same wavelength.)

"Nn. Nobody knows?" That's... well, if the other wouldn't have fun then they won't push it. They do that too much as it is, don't they? Quietness preferred to noise.

"You're not?" Neither they or Chara noticed that Chara wasn't aging. They don't really use mirrors, time is a construct, and there's been a great deal of other concerns. It wasn't something they were paying attention to, and they squint at the other Frisk as if by doing so they could see the eleven-year-old version of them. "Didn't know the Castle did that."

Chara is in particular intrigued by this.

[dustless]

"Just you. ...Two." They don't think birthdays ever came up with anybody, aside from...maybe Sans, once, a long time ago. They're not sure. It's not really important.

Look at them, arms stretched above their head like they're trying to be bigger. "Noo. It's not...frozen, though, 'cause stuff heals. And grows." Frisk rakes a hand through their bangs, partially covering their eyes. "So...dunno. 'S weird."

[itstheend]

"Oh."

Well that's sure a thing they know now. Two things. They asked for their other self's birthday... did nobody else? In... they don't know the age the other Frisk looks like exactly but - years?

It's a bit. They're not sure what they're feeling there. There's monsters here.

They nod at the comment on weirdness - Chara cuts their hair with a knife, and it shows, and Frisk chews their nails. Tries not to, since they're Chara's and both kids like the idea of having 'claws' for different reasons, but it's a habit. "S'like we're gettin' older but we're not... growing up."

They're not sure how they feel about that either. Adults are big, strong and clever, and maybe if Chara was one they wouldn't get hurt so much all the time.

Ha! Do you want a more dangerous adversary out there, Frisk?

There's an underlying unspoken sentiment under that that has Frisk pressing Chara's lips together.

[dustless]

They give their other-self-in-Chara's-body a small smile. They don't look glad to know that--they care a lot, they're a Frisk, but it's alright, they don't need to worry.

"Not...on the outside," they agree. They like to think they're growing more mature, but...they're not sure about that. They don't know how to measure it anymore, or if it's worth measuring at all in the first place.

(Big kids don't cry and you're not good at being a kid, are you? Who knows what's what? Adults cry and they're a kid but they've got to know so much bad stuff--)

Let's not think about that today.

Instead. Frisk sits up and tries to make sense of the new expression on other-Frisk's face.

[itstheend]

"Dunno what it means on the inside."

Sometimes it feels like they're so much older than they should be, from what they've seen and done. Chara, too. But that's something entirely different from bones lengthening and body shifting.

Maturity is not really a concept they've been given much cause to grasp. All they know is people change, young or old.

The expression shifts as they notice the other paying attention to it, to that of someone noticing it's being paid attention to - a quietly enquiring rise of eyebrows. What? Is something on their face?

[dustless]

"...means they don't match like they should?" They don't sound as certain as they'd like.

Thoughtlessly, Frisk raises their eyebrows too. They take a stab. "Are you worried?"

[itstheend]

"Mm." Frisk can sort of see what the other means, but are quickly distracted.

"Oh! No, it's just... Chara was saying it's a good thing. They don't wanna be an adult."

Not with what that means to them. Frisk's dead, in any case. They're not getting older all the same. They mentally nudge Chara with an elbow, and Chara grumps but doesn't say no.

"D'you wanna talk to them? I can put them on the phone."

The tone is playful, as if this is an entirely mundane question. It practically is, by this time.

[dustless]

That's phrased so mundanely. Something weird pulses in their chest, but they let it slide. It's not like they ever had solid plans for growing up either.

"I dunno. It'd be nice to get taller and stuff, don't you think? I'd like that. But my voice'd change an' I like that now too." They lift up the music book again.

And Frisk shrugs. "If they want to say stuff? This is the party," they decide abruptly. "Frisk-Chara-me party. Unless you guys want your own party." Though that wouldn't really work, they realize a little too late. Not many people know Frisk's in there with Chara.

[itstheend]

"Being tall would be nice..." Frisk is mostly thinking of how tall their mom and dad are, and very carefully avoiding the pothole of a thought of whether their brother would have reached similar height.

Frisk's face slowly produces a crooked smile. "Yeah!" They start casting about, but they don't want to use the pieces of wrapping paper for this, not after they were reacted to with that much reverence. They grab a cushion and balance it perfectly on Chara's head after some wobbling, and even manage to make a slight nod, arms and legs crossed. "We need hats," they declare. It's a party after all.

Their body language shifts a little as Chara reaches up and puts a second cushion on top. "Happy birthday, Frisk," they say with the faux-imperious gravity of someone who knows how absurd it is to be that serious with two brightly coloured cushions balanced on a head.

[dustless]

Frisk starts laughing.

They look ridiculous, but it's not just that. It's that Chara joined in, and it's more than only the presents. They're here and having fun (Frisk hopes), adding a layer of real delight on top of funny-laughter.

It's not long before the join, seizing one behind them. It has tassels on it. "Thank you! Both! Again! Do--do--could we sing the birthday song maybe?" they add in a rush, before they can let themselves second-guess it.

[itstheend]

Laughter. Genuine laughter. There's always a bit of Chara that'll hear it and assume they're the target, but that kneejerk thought fades quickly here. This isn't laughing at - at least not with malice - this is the fabled laughing with.

There's startlement for a different reason, too - more pleasant surprise - but they don't think they've ever heard this Frisk laugh like that. It's good. Really good. There's a brief odd bark of sound when the birthday Frisk puts on their own cushion-hat it takes them a moment to realize is their own in return, cut off at the pass.

There's warmth swelling in the two of them. The invisible Frisk in particular is internally grinning.

"Frisk," Chara says, still playing up the previous persona. "What kind of birthday would it be without the birthday song? It's academic." After all, what other kind of hat is square with tassels? They wave a hand at the last word, but it's clear they were suppressing a snort before saying it.

[dustless]

Frisk knows what that noise was, and their grin gets even bigger.

"Not one yet," they agree, clapping their hands lightly beneath their chin. "And--and I know it's, um, usually other people singing to, but we can sing together?" they say-ask hopefully.

They're happy and nervous without being able to articulate why. They're not afraid of asking for things, but when they do, it's usually something...important. Not just...silly singing for them.