They laugh. Breathless as they shake their head, as their shoulders lift along with it. Could almost be seen as freeing, except they close their eyes to it all, blocking out the sight of Frisk's own closed off expression, the creases at their eyes. The guilt.
The game has changed.]
I don't care.
[They don't care anymore. About the rules, or the process. The running current beneath it all, a prompt or suggestion, words written into code that shape their lives into what they are. Softly singing birds. Beautiful angels.
None of it matters.]
Since when have the rules ever mattered to creatures like us? No.
no subject
They laugh. Breathless as they shake their head, as their shoulders lift along with it. Could almost be seen as freeing, except they close their eyes to it all, blocking out the sight of Frisk's own closed off expression, the creases at their eyes. The guilt.
The game has changed.]
I don't care.
[They don't care anymore. About the rules, or the process. The running current beneath it all, a prompt or suggestion, words written into code that shape their lives into what they are. Softly singing birds. Beautiful angels.
None of it matters.]
Since when have the rules ever mattered to creatures like us? No.
None of it is supposed to matter, Frisk.
...It's not supposed to matter.
[The stakes have changed.
That matters all too much.]