not so dustless now

[dustless]

In one of the castle's many halls, a worn tapestry, depicting nothing in particular, succumbs to age and rot and falls.

Behind it lies a door.

Behind that door, should anyone decide to investigate, is a musty-smelling room with drawings papering the walls, corners gently curling in, and dust covering every inch of furniture; a desk, a chair, a bed. 

Despite it all, the bed is occupied. 

Frisk lies there on their side, half-covered in blankets, exposed skin and shirt just as dust-coated as the rest of the room. Their chest raises and falls shallowly enough that a spider's made a fancy web between the collar of their shirt and a hand curled close to their body.

It might take a little work to rouse them.

Comments

[notme_anymore]

Oh, how strange. Rose thinks she's seen them before. It's been so long, she can barely remember.

It's strange to find herself in such an intimate-seeming moment; she feels as though she's intruding, though by the looks of the layers of dust, no one's intruded in a long time. Maybe it's about time. Rose isn't entirely sure how... this could happen, this kid frozen in sleep (it's sleep right--? Yes, their chest rises and falls) with even cobwebs forming between them. How long have they been here? Why? Did the castle do this?

She's getting real tired of not knowing.

"Hello," she greets, crouching down (her long trench coat kicks up the dust along the floor) and putting a hand on their arm.

[dustless]

They don't hear her.

This sleep is too deep, too long, for simple sound to break through. Surely there's been rain or something else that can be loud, drumming its way to their ears. That isn't how this sort of sleep works.

A touch, though, of someone who could be a friend. That's close enough to make a crack in a spell.

It leaches the heat of her hand instantly, shifting to warm Frisk's unnaturally chilled skin. For the first time in months, they make a noise and curl further into themselves, tearing the spider's web with a tiny movement. They aren't awake enough to be thinking, they don't at all know why, but they don't want to wake up yet.

[notme_anymore]

She startles at the shift despite herself. What was she expecting, really?

But the cold is what shocks her, and she recoils. That’s not right. She knows cold, cold of windy and rainy pine forests, cold of the ocean, cold of tunnels. Cold of tombs. This kid is far, far too cold.

But they’re alive yet. That has to count for something.

“Hey,” she says again, shaking their shoulder lightly and ignoring the way her touch chills, as if their body were desperate to sap all her warmth. “Are you okay?”

[dustless]

The warmth and shaking gets to them after a few long seconds. They're abruptly aware of their own discomfort--most of their body's under the weight of blankets, but they're chilly all over. Frisk pushes their shoulder into the hand as much as they can, waking up a bit more.

They take a deep breath--

--and sneeze.

"Ow!"

Well! They're awake now, and staring up at the lady with distinct bemusement. What?

[notme_anymore]

Rose can't help but startle; the sound is loud in the stillness and the quiet.

... And there's something strangely endearing about it all. Rose admits she'd never been too much of a kids person, and what she's feeling now is hardly that "maternal instinct" nonsense, but there's a fondness she's got. She tries to give them a little sort of smile. "Good morning. You, uh, had a good rest?"

[dustless]

They blink.

"...morning?" they reply, half a greeting, half a what are you doing here.

Whoever 'you' is. They don't--

Wait, yes they do. The's the pretty lady in red. They met her in the trees. But--

Frisk turns their head to survey the room. Their room. They can't tell what the drawings on the wall are from this angle, and all the dust--their stomach roils at the sight of it all, and they sit up sharply to start brushing it off their hands.

"What happened?" Oh hell, did they sleepwalk-murder somebody? They think they would've remembered that if they did, and they should probably be feeling more if they're right. That's not happening. Their thoughts aren't going the right speed.

They don't remember the lady's name.

"Who are you."

[notme_anymore]

They sure got up fast. She wonders if there's anything in particular about dust they don't like, or if they're just freaked out by being covered in dust at all, or both. Rose waves a hand in front of her face and tries not to sputter when it inevitably gets kicked up into the air.

"Rose," she says. "Rose Red. I, ah, found you here sleeping. I wanted to let you rest, but..."

She looks around at all the dust and webs, then shrugs. "Looks like you've been asleep for a long time. I thought maybe someone should come and get you."

[dustless]

They only half-hear most of that, completely absorbed in clearing their skin off and trying not to visibly panic (which is not working, at all) until they realize they're brushing webs off their body too, not just dust.

"Long time," they echo, finally looking at the rest of the room.

That doesn't clear a lot up. No, they didn't murder anyone, and that's enough to relax them, but...what happened?

"Um. Thanks, Rose Red. I'm...I'm Frisk." Did they introduce themselves before? Everything's fuzzy, including their eyes, which they rub at and immediately regret when some of the dust on their face raises tears from the sting.

[notme_anymore]

Rose notices the teeth again while they talk.

Ah. Yes. She remembers them.

(She wonders why they looked so panicked. Hypochondriac, maybe? But then why'd they stop like they noticed something and calm down? There's still dust. It's not as if it's gone anywhere, and besides, what kind of realization would that have to be? It's all very strange.)

"Hello, Frisk. You feeling alright?" 'Cause a sleep like that is bound to, at the very least, disorient someone.

[dustless]

Ugh ugh ugh. They wiggle around and shove their covers off, sending plumes of dust into the air. Though at least this time they're sort of away from Frisk (and Rose Red)'s face.

"No? Um. Kinda cold...confused, too," they admit.

And then they sneeze again, making their face is a triple mess with tears and dust and their nose running. They blindly slide off the edge of the bed, nearly crumpling when their legs decide they're not as ready to work as the rest of them.

"--I don't know what happened!" Their voice goes up in pitch at the end.

[notme_anymore]

Oh dear. Oh dear. Here is where Rose is far out of her depth. She may have been a mother once, but Frisk is not hers, and she was never particularly good with children anyway. And this is hardly the kind of superficial problem that many kids would get upset over.

“I don’t know either.” She rubs at her eyes, waving off some of the dust. “Maybe we can look and see why? Maybe the castle just… decided to do that. It seems to like to do that a lot.”

[dustless]

They're usually better at keeping it together. Knowing that just has their stomach sinking lower.

Right. They're remembering. "Lookit what? Hate this place," they mutter, making sure their legs are staying steady.

Still, it's home, they're also remembering. Maybe this is what it does to people who don't want to go somewhere else.

Frisk looks at the mess of their room. "...I gotta clean," they say helplessly.

[voidster]

Very, very strange. He's not sure the kid will ever wake up, honestly. But he hasn't given up on them yet--or maybe it's become routine to check on them every day. Sometimes more. Time is a bit tricky when one never eats or sleeps. He's tried to clean the dust only to see it reappear in minutes, when he's not looking. That seems cruel, but he can't exactly go file a complaint.

So if he's going to sit and read, he may as well do it in here. They'll be angry again when they wake, of course, but that's better than feeling like they've been ignored. Discarded. Forgotten.

[dustless]

An enchanted sleep isn't too impressive if it doesn't look enchanted, right? The Castle does love its drama.

Though maybe it's tired of it. Maybe Frisk's tired of it, somehow, deep inside themselves. They are determined, after all, and that's the desire to change fate. Most likely it's Gaster, being a good enough friend to keep watch for so very long.

On a day almost like any other, after months of sleeping and stillness, lying on one side, they make the softest noise and very simply roll over.

[voidster]

Well, it's not as if he has anyone else to watch over. Not in the castle. He looks up after a moment, seeing... they've actually moved. It wasn't his imagination. No more almost complete stillness, like a photograph. That's such a relief. He puts his book away and drifts over to them, watching for a moment to see if there's any more movement. And then he tries once more to get some of the dust and that nasty cobweb off their clothes. What a miserable thing to wake up to.

[dustless]

At first, no. After it all, still, that bed is incredibly soft and comfortable. More comfy than it was at the start, somehow.

The touch, however, has them twitch. His bones are still a different temperature than they are, and very differently-textured. Frisk shudders, one hand lifting up and softly batting at his. "Nnn..."

[voidster]

At least they're slightly more dustless. He doesn't make any sound, of course. But he doesn't stop--it's their hair he's brushing dust off next, stick fingers like the world's weirdest hairbrush.

[dustless]

Frisk gathers consciousness and just enough willpower to reach up and grab it.

...And now they're distantly aware that something weird is in their hand.

They open their eyes, take a deep breath, and sneeze hard.

[voidster]

Something that sounds like static comes from him. Seems that's his laugh now and forever. They've got two hands--have a dustcloth for the other hand, Frisk, so you can clean yourself off. Welcome back to this little pocket universe.

[dustless]

Frisk jerks back deeper into their pillows. Sure, monsters are friends, but Gaster's face is a somewhat alarming first sight after a nap.

...And then they scrunch up their own face, trying to lock down another sneeze.

"What's--what." They take the cloth, because wow do they feel disgusting all over their skin, even if they're not sure why quite yet.

oof I am sorry

[voidster]

That it is, though he doesn't realize it. It's his own face, skeletons are shaped like friends! He moves backwards, considerately. The rest of his body, below his skull, is not exactly as pleasant to look at. Very unseemly and unformed.

[Hello. Welcome back.]

np~

[dustless]

--And they fail.

"HAAH-CHOO!"

Ow ow ow. Yes, alright, they start brushing the dust off.

"Hi," they croak back, letting his other hand go free. This is...they know him, they know signs-- "Again?" Yeah. This is Gaster. It's coming back. A little.

"Why 'm I...what happened?" they ask again. Something's gone wrong, and when they try to sit up properly, they get a little dizzy. "Am I sick."

holy shit this is months late (but I miss frisk)

[voidster]

[Don't move just yet.]

Probably they are, in a way. He doesn't have the faintest idea what to do for a human, made of matter and flesh and blood, that's woken up from... something like falling down? Something odd, anyway. He pushes at them, very gently, in case they don't get the message and keep trying to get up.

[You were asleep. For months, I think.]

[buttercup_uneaten]

It took some time for Chara to gain their bearings. Perhaps understandable, when one finds themselves suddenly in a place wholly unlike their home, with a sky that’s far too big and nobody you recognize anywhere. Still, they’re very glad nobody found them while they were hiding in between a pair of pillars, clutching their knife tightly. Such a position would be… unfitting for an Evil Magistrate.

(Even an Evil Magistrate who has not been this terrified since they were a child.)

In fact, they had not seen anyone before they stumble upon the human child in the dusty bedroom.

For a moment, Chara thinks the child must be dead- they’re so still, and they’re covered in dust and cobwebs. But while the room smells musty, the scent isn’t how they imagine rotting flesh to smell. And when they creep closer to the child, they can see the slight rise and fall of the child’s chest as they breathe.

‘Is this the work of human magic?’ they wonder.

But as this child is the only living being Chara has seen so far, they decide waking them is their best shot at getting some answers. Grimacing a little at gross dust everywhere, they reach out and brush the child’s cheek clean with a gloved hand.

“My child,” they whisper, leaning over the child’s ear. “Wake up.”

[dustless]

The skin they touch is cold enough to sink through their glove. It's been a long time since something living touched them (aside from spiders). It's a nice warmth that their body tries to take, and a sensation that slides through their near-dreamless sleep to gently bump them to a slightly higher awareness.

My child.

That does more. Those are important words and painful words cutting deeper. Frisk shoves their face deeper into their pillow in an instinctive move to avoid it.

Their still-quite-dusty pillow.

Frisk sneezes and recoils, flopping halfway onto the other side of the bed before their eyes even flicker open.

[buttercup_uneaten]

The cold makes Chara ache for the Dreemurrs’ fire. They try to push that thought down- this isn’t a good time for homesickness.

Fortunately the child provides ample distraction. To Chara’s relief, they begin to move- and then Chara has to abruptly step back before the child can sneeze on and/or knock into them.

“...Bless you,” they say. Well. It is rather dusty in here, after all. They have to suppress a sneeze themselves before they can ask:

“Human child. Are you finally awake?”

[dustless]

Are they. That's a weird question, and it makes them wonder. They fix a stare on the other human, and they're blurry. Frisk sort of feels like they're floating.

The ache the sneeze left is enough to be at least somewhat grounding, though. Probably not dreaming.

They open their mouth--showing off some very sharp teeth--and just sneeze again. And again.

"Ow. Um. Yes?"

[buttercup_uneaten]

Chara ever so slightly winces when their question is just met with a barrage of sneezes. This is not shaping up to be a productive conversation. But at least the child eventually stops to give them an answer. A somewhat confused sounding one, but an answer nevertheless.

“Wonderful,” they say, giving the child a dry smile. “Now. Do you know where you are?”

Mindful of the possibility of being met with more sneezing, Chara quickly adds, “Although. Perhaps we should relocate somewhere… cleaner.”

[dustless]

"Um." Frisk feels the grossness of the dust layered over their skin and starts scrubbing it off as they sit up.

What happened? This isn't...somebody's dust, is it? Except when they look around, the dust is everywhere, not just on them or a little bit. Unless somebody exploded.

They know where they are. They're in their room. And so is this stranger. "Who're you?" they ask instead of answering, barely looking up.

[buttercup_uneaten]

The Magistrate straightens up to their full height, placing a fist over their heart. They’re dressed in their usual regalia, various shades of black, white, purple, and gold, the Delta Rune proudly emblazoned on their clothes, knife sheathed at their side, and a horned circlet that gives them (to the eyes of an average human) a faintly demonic look.

They introduce themselves, in their most imperious voice:

“I am Chara, Evil Magistrate in service to the royal Dreemurr family, the rulers of Monsterkind and the Underground. Right Paw of the Prince, Gardener-in-Chief, Consultant to the Royal Guard, all around adviser to the King and Queen and above all, the guardian of all who dwell within the Underground.”

They drop their arm, along with a bit of the imperious manner, to say, “My child, do you know why you were asleep for so long?”

tw for suicide ref i guess

[dustless]

...

Oh.

Frisk's eyes get huge.

Not all of that gets through, but obviously, they said 'Chara'. This is a Chara. A big Chara. That elicits so many weird feelings--happiness, 'cause they died! Confusion, 'cause they wanted to die! Surprise 'cause they're just here and new and just woke them up from...

"...No?"

...a long sleep, it's looking like.

Their self-cleaning slows down. Contrasting their shock and almost-glee, something heavy settles in their stomach.

[buttercup_uneaten]

Chara takes the dusty child’s reaction as an indication that they are impressed. Good! A few of the children who fell were, but some of them said things like “More like NERD Magistrate!” Children nowadays are so sassy. Unlike they were, definitely.

Thinking about human children… Chara folds their hand thoughtfully under their chin and examines the one in front of them for a silent moment. As a human, Chara is disinclined to trust them but, even knowing firsthand how cruel children can be, they’re also vulnerable. Even if they’re not one of the fallen humans. This one, at least, is clearly confused.

“Hmm. Child. I do have a theory.

“Although human magic has not been heard of in hundreds of years… Perhaps that is responsible for your long sleep. And for my summoning.”

[dustless]

"...I dunno. It's...the Castle just. Does stuff sometimes."

How much did they miss? How long were they asleep? When they push the blankets back, a startled spider skitters away from a web that it spun between their knees. They shift their legs to give it a route to escape.

"Takes people, anyway." They shift to put their feet on the floor. Their legs are like jelly when they try to stand up, so they'll wait. "Um. When'd you get here? Did anybody tell you stuff 'bout it?" Whoever anybody might be, now.

[buttercup_uneaten]

“The Castle… takes people,” They repeat, their brow furrowing. They really have a lot of questions but unfortunately, this child seems about as disoriented as they are, so Chara does their best to bite their tongue. And not scowl.

“It has not been long. You are the first person I have seen.” Chara holds out a hand for them, a silent offer to help them to their feet.

“Name yourself, human.”

[dustless]

Okay. Totally new. They can work with that, they think, staring at the proffered hand for beat before they actually take it.

Standing's easier with support, though they end up leaning pretty heavily on Chara's arm.

"I'm Frisk..." They trail off, struggling to think of something to add. It just feels like something they should do after Chara gave them such a long title. Nothing comes to mind in time. "...I tell people 'bout the Castle when they get here, usually," they say lamely.

Deep breath. "It's a castle in the sky, an' a hub of worlds. There's lots of people from different worlds, timelines, even some of the same people. Monsters too, 'f course. Try not to fight...anybody." Simple, obvious facts, but they only remember they'd said similar things in the past after the words are through their teeth.