[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

[dustless]

(On that note...)

It's not as fitting as the feather necklace, but they're still in a good, sorta silly mood--they twirl again and beckon to him. "C'mere!"

[silvermists]

Aaand he arches a brow, turning around. "Why?" Ah. "You're far too short."

[dustless]

"Nooo, you're far too tall!" They're absolutely bouncing on their feet again.

[silvermists]

"True. I was born taller than you." And then he grew slowly, rather than ever going through a growth spurt--perks of being a weird gengineered feathery thing. He doesn't obey, not quiet, but he does sit down on the lip of the wardrobe's bottom. There. Less tall.

[dustless]

"No faaair."

Good enough! A few prances over, and they change their expression into something approaching solemn. "A great crown. For the Too-Tall King Kuja."

A very succinct speech. It's not like they know what coronation's really like.

They lower the circlet onto his head, careful to keep it straight (and not mess up that strange tuft that sticks right up).

[silvermists]

Not a tuft, a small cluster of feathers, and the damn things never lie flat. Most people assume they're not natural, so there's no reason to pluck them out...

There's that faint almost-smile again. He's certainly not bothering to play the part of someone happy. Maybe he's lost his touch. "Lord King Too-Tall Kuja." he corrects, not harsh about it. "There really was a Lord King in one of the cities of Gaia. Don't you think that's ridiculous?"

[dustless]

He's magic, they've seen weirder stuff. Pulling someone's feather-hair would be rude...though there's an urge.

"Lord King," they say gravely.

Then they drop their hands as well as their serious face. "Really? 'S just saying 'king' twice, right?"

[silvermists]

"No." he says, giving them an odd look. They deserve so many odd looks, really. "It's a title for any noble, not just a king. Didn't anyone teach you that wherever you came from?"

[dustless]

"No. Not a lot of kings or nobles. There's a King of Monsters...and a Queen, and was a Prince, but I don't know any nobles of monsters." Frisk hums, adjusting their jangly necklace. (They've tied their scarf around one arm for safekeeping, which looks fairly odd in and of itself. It's pretty ragged by now.) "'Less a Royal Guard is a noble."

...Lord Undyne sounds pretty cool.

[silvermists]

"I doubt it. That sounds much more like knighthood." Chin on hand, elbow on knee. "What sort of government do you have?"

[dustless]

Knight Undyne. She'd like that better. Papyrus too, they bet.

"Um. There's a President. But I might...Asgore, the King of Monsters, mighta been my King if I was back where I came from though."

[silvermists]

"Oh? Are you a runaway?" When all it takes to wind up in another kingdom is to make it to another city, and that's all you know, really... possible.

"Funny. You know far too much about me and I know nothing about you."

[dustless]

First instinct is to shake their head--but that's not...entirely wrong. They ran away from home, but there was nothing left at home. They ran away from nothing, literally, 'cause everyone needs something or they go crazy. Which they sorta did.

"I...left. I climbed a mountain, and monsters lived under it. Fell in."

They let their legs fly out from beneath them, crashing to sit on the floor. "You never found any of my papers. Or talked to my friends? Or other Frisks?" They're softly unsettled. Kuja's completely right; they know miles more than he does, and they never realized it before.

(no because I fail to tag on time)

[silvermists]

"Who's to say what I've found out is actually about you?" he says first. Good point, isn't it?

"What made you run away to monsterland?"

pff. /pats

[dustless]

Maybe. Frisk's pretty sure they're the most popular them in the castle, though.

And there's a heavy question. They're slow to answer, carefully wording and simply trying to remember.
Feels like three lifetimes ago, and it's really hundreds more.

"...Didn't have anywhere else to go. My...mama, she was gone. So I just left. Didn't...know they were under there. Monsters were just stories."

[silvermists]

It's only fair. It's not right that anyone should know a damn thing about him beyond what he chooses to reveal.

And... well, that happens all the time on Gaia, where they've barely begun using steam power. Very few people care about orphans. He's not surprised. "Was it you who said once that they were sealed away down there?"

[dustless]

Less common in their time--they were mostly a circumstance of misfortune. But humans have a knack for ignoring comfortable truths, so even those who gave the dirty kid hovering by the dumpsters a second look didn't reach out. (Maybe if they were spotted again, maybe next time, and then it was too late for anything like that.)

They put their chin in their hands. "Prob'ly. Humans did it and forgot. I helped them, proved not all humans wanna kill them or keep them there. I helped break the Barrier. Was gonna help the King an' Queen--she was gonna be my mom--an' be an Ambassador. Castle got me first." They're not bitter about it; there's plenty of other Castle things to be upset over than their own theft.

[silvermists]

Huh. He just stares at them a few moments. Pity the papers and such are lost to him now, the story can't be that simple.

"That would make you royalty. Or would have." Will someday?

[dustless]

They blink.

Then they straighten, putting a hand over their chest, and sniff. "Yeah. Pr...Lord Frisk. That's me--" and they can't even keep that up before busting into a series of tiny giggles.

They give a shrug. "Not really. Been too long." They live here, and Toriel's not their mom.

"Could be a castle Lord, though. You too!" They point at his circlet. "Nobody really...rules. But dunno if anybody'd actually listen."

[silvermists]

A huff of something not quite laughter. "No one would and I'm not fit to rule anything." He's useless. A weapon with no one to kill, except himself every so often. And it shows in the way he never does anything, doesn't it? "We may as well all be Lords and Ladies."

[dustless]

Frisk hums a little. That's not the point!

"It's...a good...um, excuse. To wear cool stuff, like that!" They point to his circlet, and to the wardrobe he'd pulled a pretty green dress from.

[silvermists]

"I don't need an excuse, I'd do it anyway." Today it's the suit of a thousand buttons, tomorrow maybe that dress... there isn't exactly much in the way of entertainment here.

[dustless]

"Sometimes it's fun--more fun to have reasons." Even if they're pretend ones.

[silvermists]

"If you say so." He stands up, straightens the circlet--he's never actually worn a crown, even as arrogant as he is--and goes to browse some more. Something velvety and blue catches his eye. (Still a lot of buttons!)

"By the way, does this place we're lording over have a name?"

[dustless]

Button kinda guy. Frisk will try to remember that for the future. They know bad things about Kuja, but those aren't necessarily the most important.

Frisk stays where they are for the moment, angling their head to follow him. "...dunno," they say. Nobody's ever asked them before, with 'floating castle' and 'timeline hub' being enough of an explanation. "Think I mighta read something in the library, once, but I forget what. P-something."