castle_perrault | [intro] EVERY DOOR A WINDOW

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deltarune

[intro] EVERY DOOR A WINDOW

Kris Dreemurr has had a pretty long day.

The sort of day that people could probably make really weird game demos about. The sort of day that feels like it came out of Aesop and the Grimm brothers' surrogate lovechild's feverdream. Or whatever. Long day. They're tired. Time to yeet a soul.

Or like, that was the plan. As soon as they get home and open the door to their room, they lose their balance on the edge of literally *nothing* and end up falling- falling-- oof. Ok. Not falling anymore.

In a kitchen.

Not their kitchen.

Their skin is its usual color, but they're in their Dark World regalia, which is either a good or a bad sign. There's no one else around, though, and there are a few baskets full of fresh-looking fruit and bread and stuff on the counters.........

Fuck it! Time to raid a pantry.

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Wykkyd, despite himself, has grown used to the castle. That doesn't mean he likes it.

Okay, he does like it. A little bit. As time has gone by, imperceptible day by day, he's explored more. His horns are growing; they're about two inches long now, showing a subtle bit of curvature they'll have when they're fully grown. They have a long way to go for that. He's able to teleport again, though he usually only ever uses it to go straight to the pantry without opening the door.

That's where he is now, crouched over a basket of fruit like a mighty lion over a gazelle. So as Kris opens the door to the pantry, they'll surprise both of them, and depending on how quickly Kris can react, they'll get beaned in the face with an apple.

Kris- well. You could say they try to dodge it, but saying that they """try""" to dodge would probably be more accurate; they kind of just. Move their head. The apple still catches the side of their jaw and bounces off...somewhere, but if there's any sign of them having felt it, they don't show it.

Instead, after a moment of staring at the majesty of the scene before them, they just. Gently close the pantry door. They have the wayward apple in hand not a second later, and open the pantry again to toss it in the stranger's direction.

Edited 2019-08-30 21:06 (UTC)

When standing still, Wykkyd looks like a very unorthodox statue; close to, but not quite, gangly and weedy, two sets of red eyes glowing and shimmering as if his capricious sculptor blew money on rubies, only to put them in... that.

In the darkness of the pantry, it is perhaps difficult to tell the exact color of his skin. It’s certainly inhuman. Here, people don't seem to be as put out by that as they usually are.

As Kris opens the pantry door and lobs the apple back at him, he snatches it before it can hit him. One moment he’s there, holding his bruised prize in the air, and the next he’s not; repositioning himself much, much closer to Kris.

He doesn't know what to do with the apple. It's got little indents in it from his nails now, and while it's not completely inedible and he does eat things off of the ground on occasion, Kris seems to need it... more?

Wykkyd could just teleport away in embarrassment, but he's been trying to not do that so often. The apple is, then, thusly offered.

Oh, this guy is kinda creepy. Kris likes him already.

They don't react much to the stranger's seemingly instantaneous movement. Kris does take the apple though, nodding in thanks, and turns to one of the other cabinets to rummage through that one instead.

Lots of empty jars in here. Could be useful. They open one and give give it a perfunctory sniff.

Smells like... empty jar.

Tucking both jar and apple under arm, they start moving to some of the other cabinets. And then, casually: "D'you know... someone called Lancer? Or Ralsei?" Guy's quiet and quick enough he could've left while Kris wasn't looking, but either way, he'll answer or he won't.

Oh sweet, gummy bears.

Weird kid takes the apple and begins to meander around, poking through cabinets, picking things up and putting them back down, with the air of someone very familiar with doing just that. He picks another apple from a basket on a low table, balancing it on the back of his hand, popping it into the air, catching it, bobbling it between his hands, and finally tucking it into a pocket.

He wishes he knew anyone here. As it is, he's been relatively... withdrawn. He takes a few steps to get closer to Kris, and decide halfway it's too much trouble and just teleports instead, to Kris' shoulder, tapping their shoulder. There's something he's recognized about kids with striped shirts, though, and it's that they share a reality. Or something. Not at all like Billy.

"I don't know them," he signs. "I know there are monsters here."

They're not expecting the shoulder tap, and they're not expecting him to speak with his hands, which makes the only reason their relief isn't palpable the fact that their expression just...doesn't change much.

"You're not," they sign back. The question comes out more like an accusation without the typical eyebrow raise. Do they even have eyebrows under that mop of hair? Kris hasn't checked lately.

Kris turns to him, and surprisingly, they sign back. He's not used to that. The other Five just took it for granted that he could understand them, and picked a few signs up here and there to understand him.

This is... nice. He nods. "I'm a demon." He points-- little horns, just nubs."I'm Wykkyd. You?"

"Sweet." They try not to be jealous about the horns. Fail kind of just a little bit. They're successful enough that they can pretend it doesn't matter anyway. "I wish I'd thought of a name that cool. Call me uh, fuck, uh." They pause. Heavy hands make for clumsy signs, but there's not really a way to fix that, right now, and it's not exactly conducive for their particular brand of shittalk. "...Kris."

Wow, they suddenly feel kind of awkward now. What else is new. So they're just gonna....

Start slicing up their apple with their sword. Like, on the counter. It's fine.

" 'm human," they say, switching back to their voice even as they keep Wykkyd in their peripheral. "I think."

Kris. He runs the signs over a few times to himself, happily letting Kris do whatever the hell it is they're doing over at the counter, until he realizes-- oh, the human has a sword.

Humans aren't really supposed to be using swords where he comes from. They're dated and, though they're clearly the superior weapon, far less effective than a gun. Or magic. Or even a really well-thrown rock. Points for style?

Wykkyd disappears, reappearing shortly on the adjacent counter, legs crossed neatly. He puts his chin in his hands, then his hands on his knees, then his hands on the table, rocking back briefly.

"You're human."

Now he feels awkward. That's embarrassing. He could stick around, making even more of a fool of himself, or... he's still kinda hungry. He slides off the counter, sidling over to stand next to Kris, and reaches out to snatch a handful of apple slices. Sword apple slices? God knows what it's touched. He'll probably be fine. Instead of hanging around and being charged with apple thievery, he waves, sticks a slice of apple between his teeth, and disappears.

"Probably," they mumble. "Maybe part uh, fuckin uh, mothman, or changeling or something, like, I can dream-"

THEIR APPLES.

Sweeping a suspicious glare across the suddenly empty room, they grab a few more apples from another nearby basket, and sullenly continue to chop.

"...Demon stealing an apple." Hm. "L-M-A-O."

Frisk paces down the hall, looking for food. Real, actual food. They're sick of cake and candy and even the garden fruit.

They've never had luck with finding Castle kitchens, somehow, and that's still how it is even after their...magic sleep. Enchanted sleep.

Other people tend to make it easier. Lo and behold, somebody else is around and getting what they need. They wander in, reaching for a hunk of bread even as they acknowledge the other person in the room with (and a look at their sword): "Hello!"

The greeting comes right as Kris is about to attempt a climb towards the pantry's top shelf. They pause midstep, looking over at who they can only guess lives here. Looks like they've been caught red-handed.

Or. Salsa-handed. There's a lot of salsa in here.

Reaching into the pantry, they grab onto the first jar their hand reaches and hold it out to Frisk as if to say: ...Uh, hey. Want some?

Sure, okay, pickles are fine. They take it and shove the bread into their mouth so their hands are free to open it.

...Or. To try. It's pretty freaking shut, so much that they get the bread down before it loosens even a little.

"Thanks," they say belatedly. "Um, if we met before, I mighta forgot. Sorry." They say this very, very casually, barely looking up. The stranger does look sorta familiar, but not enough to dredge up a name.

Oh okay. Cool. With their new acquaintance not seeming to be interested in stopping them, Kris takes the opportunity to kind of... scale their way to the top shelf. They're clambering back down a few moments later, a sizable bundle of snacks under one arm, and they approach just in time to register the other's words.

"...Welcome." Shrugging, they hold out another jar. Peanut butter, this time. Hopefully the kid isn't allergic.

"...Any chance, your name isn't an anagram, is it?"

Edited 2019-09-01 09:14 (UTC)

...Oh, sure. They pause in their opening the first jar to take the other jar. Now they're just...holding both. Which should they actually be bothering with?

"Um?" What does that even mean. "I'm Frisk?"

Hmmmm.

Their own name is kind of like an anagram to that, isn't it? And the colors on their weird cape thing kind of matches this kid's sweater....

Cool. Not gonna think about that.

They just nod instead, and shove their pilfered snacks directly into their inventory. They've still got room for a few more things...they head over to one of the other cabinets, opening the door to find...

An egg. Alright.

"'m Kris. With a 'K'." Might as well take it. Into their pocket it goes. "Not really from...around here."

They put the pickles down to work on the peanut butter, which opens a lot more easily. They don't see a usable knife, so they just grab more bread and dip it in.

Kris. "'S a nice name." Kinda rhymes with Frisk. "Nobody is. The Castle stole everybody. It's a hub of worlds, an' it's in the sky. We're all stuck here. Sorry." They dip their head apologetically to offset that they don't sound that sorry. It's too normal for them, now, and Kris doesn't seem to be freaking out (yet).

They pause for a moment. Tilt their head just a bit, like they're thinking about what Frisk just said.

Not exactly the first time they've been whisked off to another world.

Aaaand they're pretty sure they've looted all they can from this place. They settle for leaning against the counter instead. "Not your fault." Their fingers trace, idly, against the Delta Rune embellished on their chestplate. "...Probably."

Probably.

Frisk thinks they were the first person here. Maybe. It's hard to remember. Nothing they can do about it, anyway. The castle doesn't listen to them.

They crunch down a few peanutbuttery bites. "You might go home after a while, though. Dunno when, or how, but it happens."

Abruptly, Frisk pauses to take a better look at their armor, following the tracing hand. That looks...familiar. Real familiar.

"This place might be nicer than your old world. Or it might not. Usually is, but, um, not all the time." Lotsa rough home-worlds, lotsa people that were miserable and hurt. Frisk just expects the worst.

Their hand continues to trace as Frisk thinks. As Frisk talks. And as they do, Kris' ever-neutral expression tick tick ticks down into something....like a frown. Their face feels stiff and numb as ever. Their hands- heavy. Like trying to move against whitewater rapids, sometimes. The hand on their armor curls into a fist. They want to do something about it. Want to actually be themself, here, and not have to fight to do it. They think the time for that might have already passed.

So this place doesn't seem much different from their "old world" to begin with.

"...What d'you think?" They turn to face Frisk a little more fully. "Is this place better than the Underground?"

Great. What the hell is an ''''underground''''?

Visibly, they perk up. They know the Underground? They know monsters?

Only...their eyes flick over Kris' entire ensemble again. Maybe they're like that jerk with the spear (what was their name? Frisk didn't like them, but names are important. they forgot so much and they're still angry but that's not what's going on right now)--the one involved in the war that started everything in the first place.

"...Uh-huh. For monsters," they say after a probably-too-long pause. "There's...sky and stuff. Food doesn't run out. Never been crowded. Nobody can die forever."

That last bit doesn't only pertain to monsters and the Underground, but it's still something to bring up quick. To avoid any unnecessary murders (or mourning) in the future.

They've had to say weird stuff to weird people before - like that extra weird grocery clerk skeleton. But this is the first time someone's actually seemed to know what in the world They were talking about. It's enough to catch Kris off guard.

Though of course, that doesn't show at all.

"Of course nobody dies forever. 'S what SAVEs are for." They stand out of their lean, feeling, for once, a little too tall. They needed to stop talking, like..... ten minutes ago. "And for you? Do you miss your family?"

So Kris has one, too. Suspicion and relief both ratchet up--at least now they don't need to dance around the subject of death too much. "It's not like a normal SAVE. You die, you come back three days later, an' everybody remembers. So try not to do that, or kill anybody," they say mildly.

Shrug. "I miss some friends, but they're prob'ly happy where they are. The Underground's empty now. Got family here now. You?" Are you going to miss yours? Frisk guesses that's why they asked.

Wait. This kid actually deals with SAVEs, too? Maybe they should be more focused on that whole three day resurrection thing, but Kris' priorities have been screwed for a long time now.

There's no answer to Frisk's question forthcoming. Kris might even get to answer it for themself. Are they gonna miss their family?

Haven't they been missing them for ages now already?

"...I guess."

The Ball of Junk is still in their pocket. Scraps of erasers and stickers that used to be something else, but for some reason haven't reverted back like Kris has. They set it onto the counter and nudge it back and forth between their hands before putting it back. For safekeeping. "Not... not trying t'be nosy. Sorry." They pause. "Not trying to kill or be killed, either."

YEETS A DEMON

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OH BOY,

;^)

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