swords, Judgement echoes—Frisk's own voice plain in its speech; and then, doors? locks? manacles?
But she is contemplating the image that has surfaced in Frisk's mind: the golden sun, the glittering free sea. A static fuzz of almost-emotion emanates from her place inside Frisk's chest, and the pulse of the cell travels down through their spine, through their bones, into the ground, touching the flagstones and becoming a song.
dock, she mutters. i want to see a dock and a sea and the walk into nowhere, and i want i want to see the one who was killed to set you free
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aaaaaa sorry this is short x-x
Date: 2017-06-18 05:22 pm (UTC)But she is contemplating the image that has surfaced in Frisk's mind: the golden sun, the glittering free sea. A static fuzz of almost-emotion emanates from her place inside Frisk's chest, and the pulse of the cell travels down through their spine, through their bones, into the ground, touching the flagstones and becoming a song.
dock, she mutters. i want to see a dock and a sea and the walk into nowhere, and i want i want to see the one who was killed to set you free