The fragment embeds itself as if sinking into liquid, through cloth, through skin, through muscle and cartilage and bone. Flesh warps around it as it seeks its resting place, and it occupies Frisk's chest without breaking the skin at all, its shell melding and conforming to the surface contour of their ribs until it sits seamlessly in their centre.
Then the little light within suddenly bursts, filling the cube with its glow, filling Frisk, coursing through blood and singing through bone and running along nerves and muscles until—
(sun colliding with sun, fingers interlacing with fingers)
—it makes contact.
A sudden warmth (breaks through no reaches through the impenetrable surface of the cube and makes its home inside, and makes it home.
Red.
The fragment, fading into the whole, thinks its last thought: Life. Life. Life. We are alive.
The last of the pink fluid sinks into Judgement's eye. She sinks down into the floor and turns just a few degrees, to look at Frisk's prone form.
Then she dissipates, black metal turning into thick fog and then into a cloud of slightly acrid air. Her eye winks out of view.
Her intangible presence wanders back into the heart of the immortal cell and seems to gather there, like a forgotten worry hovering beneath the surface of a troubled mind.
A thought that is not Frisk's builds itself within their new heart, slowly, hesitantly.
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it is yours it is you
Date: 2017-03-29 02:20 pm (UTC)The fragment embeds itself as if sinking into liquid, through cloth, through skin, through muscle and cartilage and bone. Flesh warps around it as it seeks its resting place, and it occupies Frisk's chest without breaking the skin at all, its shell melding and conforming to the surface contour of their ribs until it sits seamlessly in their centre.
Then the little light within suddenly bursts, filling the cube with its glow, filling Frisk, coursing through blood and singing through bone and running along nerves and muscles until—
(sun colliding with sun, fingers interlacing with fingers)
—it makes contact.
A sudden warmth (breaks through no reaches through the impenetrable surface of the cube and makes its home inside, and makes it home.
Red.
The fragment, fading into the whole, thinks its last thought: Life. Life. Life. We are alive.
The last of the pink fluid sinks into Judgement's eye. She sinks down into the floor and turns just a few degrees, to look at Frisk's prone form.
Then she dissipates, black metal turning into thick fog and then into a cloud of slightly acrid air. Her eye winks out of view.
Her intangible presence wanders back into the heart of the immortal cell and seems to gather there, like a forgotten worry hovering beneath the surface of a troubled mind.
A thought that is not Frisk's builds itself within their new heart, slowly, hesitantly.
Falling down, it says, and then vanishes.