springing [age event: end]

[dustless]

All across the castle grounds, anyone awake to observe the midnight hour is witness to snowdrop flowers bursting from the snow.

The air settles to something softer, warmer. The layers of ice and snow start to melt away, enveloping the world in a gentle fog, though it will still be a few days yet before the slush outside dries away.

Almost tentatively, more flowers push their way from the ground; leaves on trees bud and start unfurling by sunrise. 

Inside, the distant caroling and laughter gives one final burst of cheery sound before fading into nothing. Between one blink and the next, the castle is back to how it was; faded, old, quiet.

And, of course, the changed beings of the castle will find themselves back to how they once were, with added remembrance of everything that happened while the world was encased in winter.


Frisk's change back is...uncomfortable.

Judgement's sickness takes hold of them again, but at least it's a jerking shift all at once, instead of making all their teeth fall out and changing everything back over the whole day. They've even got some energy.

Their body not feeling completely awful is absolutely made up with their head. They weren't too mean, but they weren't nice, either, and they couldn't help their friends. But their mama's still gone. They didn't think they'd ever see her again, but at least they accepted that. They missed their friends before, but they never missed home. Homesickness really is a sickness.

And...and they don't have their truck anymore. Which is tiny and stupid but it's the thing that tips Frisk over the edge again, trying to hold something big and solid in their arms and not finding anything.

Inside the castle, Frisk hides behind some ratty curtains and sobs into their scarf.




 //don't forget, even if this is making it 'official', backdating for more age-related shenanigans is absolutely allowed!

Comments

[silvermists]

It seems not everyone is changing back all at once! Or maybe the castle is just being nice to him, letting him be young and content a little longer. (And wear tinsel at all times. This is very important.)

There's an odd noise and feet visible below the curtain. Soulless empty bodies don't cry and Garland certainly doesn't. He's never had any reason to cry himself, so it's not clicking right away... he peeks around the curtain, obnoxiously curious.

[grimakin]

As far as he's concerned, he shouldn't have woken up again at all, much less in an unfamiliar castle. Though, really, waking up in strange places can't even be considered a surprise anymore, all things considered.

There's a joke to be made here-- 'there are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know'-- but no one to make it. And isn't that the thing. A place like this he would've expected to be bustling with servants, or something similar, but...

Regardless of any mystery, he's never been able to just mind his own business. The sound of something? someone? crying catches his attention sooner rather than later, and in following the source of the noise he ends up at the foot of curtains that have certainly seen better days. He doesn't do anything, though, outside of settling gently down beside where the curtains are at and leaning back against the wall to let whoever it is have their peace, until a lull comes where he thinks it might be okay to speak up.

"... Hey now," he says, with a soft-spoken sound to it. He sits back on his hands, shifting himself around until his coat lays comfortably on the ground rather than in a lumpy bundle. "Not... a great time, huh? I'm sorry. I guess that just happens, sometimes."

He adjusts himself again, staring up at the high ceilings. "It's a shame, though. It's a beautiful day outside. To not be able to enjoy it... I don't mean to pry. But is it something you want to talk about?"

If Frisk peeks at the stranger, they'll catch sight of dark clothing, a dark hood-- and beneath all that, a person. Pale hair, pale skin, eyes a light honey brown flecked almost red when the light catches it right. Albinism is a funny thing. (Inconvenient, really, when your homeland is a desert.)