[slightly backdated revival post] good morning sunshine!

[dustless]

 It's too bright. Sharp stuff prickles against the back of their neck, and something else smothering weighs down over most of their body. They're lying down. They were being carried, but then they fell. Got dropped. Something. Their eyes hurt and they're not even open yet, it's awful.

Frisk flings their arms over their face to block out the first thing. In doing so, they discover the weird weight is, in fact, their shirt and probably also their pants.

Right. They died, and they forgot just how unpleasant the castle's revivals are. Not nearly as nice as just reappearing at the last SAVE point. Everything is...a lot. Like waking up for real, except the nap was three days, and their body hadn't felt anything in that time--

There's a weight in their chest. They can feel the very shape of it right now, the diamond. Her. She's not gone, and they're--they're torn. That's bad, that's not a fix, but it's good they don't have to go see Judgement to get infected again.

They peek out of the space between their arms and find themselves staring at the morning sky in spaces between flowers. 

Between...sunflowers. 

The castle woke them up on top of their first grave.

...

They're tired. They don't like any of this. The most important people can find them by their SOUL.

Frisk rolls over, shuffles deeper into the flowers' shadows, and doesn't move until they fall asleep.
 

☼


Later--a lot later--they're heading in the general direction of their room when they find...a door. The door itself isn't weird, but when they look closer, there's a strip of cloth sticking out from under it.

The room they find behind it is magnificent. To them, at least, now that they're feeling well enough to run around. It's full of wardrobes, and the wardrobes are full of robes and suits and dresses and capes and crowns and necklaces and ruffles, and they are going to take advantage of this by trying on everything that catches their eye, yes they are.
 

Comments

[dunwhale]

"Hm." Good to know. He hasn't tried to die, not really-- not here, at least. He doubts Corvo will be pulled here, as well. He doesn't know what he'd do if he was. Frisk signs to him that they'd rather stay on the ground, and so he puts his hand down onto the book.
"And how do you feel?"

[dustless]

At least he's not freaking out. Or swearing vengeance. That's always frustrating to deal with, and they're not quite up to that right now.

"Like sleeping." Obviously.

dad daud strikes again

[dunwhale]

"In the dirt?"
He manages to sound mildly amused. He's seen enough strange happenings, and is secure enough in the knowledge that he'll see more, that he doesn't look at Frisk nestled in the flowers for much longer.
"Wouldn't you rather go inside?"

aww~

[dustless]

...they reluctantly admit he has a point, if only to themselves.

"'S shade here. Not that bad."

Frisk doesn't really want to get up, nor do they want to ask Daud to help them. A real bed might be nicer, but they can handle it down here.

[dunwhale]

Daud's never considered himself as someone who cares much about other people. Billie accused him of going soft with the younger Whalers. He'd sent them all away when Corvo came, in some hope that they would be spared even if he himself was not.

And now he's here with Frisk, actively worrying about them lying in the dirt, and he knows that Billie's right.

"I'm going in." He shrugs, and then, almost belatedly, "is there anyone you want me to tell?"