* didja get a load of that announcement? * defeating shadows with the power of song, what will they think of next? * i mean i only listen to waltzes 3/4 of the time * i'm not even that well versed in song writing, so i refrain from doing it
Hello, my child. I was told to send skeletons to seven people. Silly, is it not? I am not doing that. Instead I am sending you this. I hope you like it.
This was a call that was best done as quickly as possible, before certain negative feelings had a chance to fester. But he'd been frightened, and then Sans had disappeared, and a lot of things happened after that...
Still, there was no sense in letting things lie. Chara had sounded amenable during their last phone conversation, but Wade knew all too well that that wasn't a definite indication of a person's emotional state.
So of course, being Wade, he sends the most dignified and inoffensive text he can muster:]
did u know my friend once gave me a book called "Road Kill Recipes" for my birthday
i was kind of skeptical at first, but one day i found some roadkill and cooked it according to one recipe and it was absolutely delicious
still dont know what im gonna do with the bicycle though
* didja know one time mettaton tried out this butler and maid theme at his resort? * didn't go over so well. * could've sworn i saw one monster without any teeth. * i thought undentured servitude was illegal. * guess celebrities can do whatever they want, huh?
[That's the tempting thought, anyway - and in the dark, washed and changed into a set of night clothes that chafe at their skin like fire ants, Frisk can't come up with a good reason to argue it. Except for the reason that always is. Determination. That same old force, beating inside them with a familiar rhythm that still feels sideways. They feel too small for it, now. Like it doesn't belong.]
[In the dark, Frisk breathes into a pillow. Breathes. Can't remember how they got there beyond the faded recollection of an embrace marked by hard bones, a blurred skull with a crack in the ocular ridge. The twin drops of gold they could feel beating, always just off their periphery. Vision fading in and out like swatches of light in a dark hall. An attic. A room. Gravity, careful and deliberate and far from their SOUL, laying them carefully down in a bed of golden--]
[No. That didn't happen.]
[Stay determined, a king in the mountain rumbles. A low-throated sound as Frisk rolls to their side, propping themself on their elbow to shake him off. To shake off the ache deep in their bones, nothing like the pain of a toxin drilling wire into their blood, but the Queen's dark court must not have been kind to the shells of its subjects.]
[OK. They're up.]
[They're determined.]
[Frisk pushes themself into a sitting position, blankets falling from their shoulders and pooling around the small of their back. Frisk sighs, rubs the heel of their palm into their eye. The other hand strays automatically for the lockets around their neck, and it's a cold reminder when their fingers close around empty fabric instead of metal.]
[Twin snaps of tension before a black portal. A monster with his phalanges twisted in the chains, in their collar, because he didn't want to let go.]
There are no crafty letters with this one, no colorful ribbons. No play that Santa got lost. Where the other presents were delivered with a cheeky smile on her face in the middle of the afternoon, Rin waits before she sets out with these ones, empty of expression. Waits until late, late, late night, where surely even the insomniacs must have tucked indoors by this hour.
It's the first time she's visited the treehouse since that incident with Sakura.
That isn't what made her stay away.
The door creaks beneath Rin's hand as she presses it shut behind her. Combing fingers through her long brown hair, she walks slowly. Past the bookcases. Past a kitchen: chairs, mugs, dishes, everything built for two. The treehouse is silent but for the wind outside and Rin's slow footfalls as she moves up the stairs, towards the bedroom that waits on the second level. And when she reaches the threshold, she pauses. Waits for her eyes to adjust.
She could turn a light on, but it feels more fitting this way.]
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* defeating shadows with the power of song, what will they think of next?
* i mean i only listen to waltzes 3/4 of the time
* i'm not even that well versed in song writing, so i refrain from doing it
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This was a call that was best done as quickly as possible, before certain negative feelings had a chance to fester. But he'd been frightened, and then Sans had disappeared, and a lot of things happened after that...
Still, there was no sense in letting things lie. Chara had sounded amenable during their last phone conversation, but Wade knew all too well that that wasn't a definite indication of a person's emotional state.
So of course, being Wade, he sends the most dignified and inoffensive text he can muster:]
did u know my friend once gave me a book called "Road Kill Recipes" for my birthday
i was kind of skeptical at first, but one day i found some roadkill and cooked it according to one recipe and it was absolutely delicious
still dont know what im gonna do with the bicycle though
[That's a way of breaking the ice, at least?]
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* didn't go over so well.
* could've sworn i saw one monster without any teeth.
* i thought undentured servitude was illegal.
* guess celebrities can do whatever they want, huh?
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private, srsly
so private it makes private look public
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1/3 Not sent
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action;
[That's the tempting thought, anyway - and in the dark, washed and changed into a set of night clothes that chafe at their skin like fire ants, Frisk can't come up with a good reason to argue it. Except for the reason that always is. Determination. That same old force, beating inside them with a familiar rhythm that still feels sideways. They feel too small for it, now. Like it doesn't belong.]
[In the dark, Frisk breathes into a pillow. Breathes. Can't remember how they got there beyond the faded recollection of an embrace marked by hard bones, a blurred skull with a crack in the ocular ridge. The twin drops of gold they could feel beating, always just off their periphery. Vision fading in and out like swatches of light in a dark hall. An attic. A room. Gravity, careful and deliberate and far from their SOUL, laying them carefully down in a bed of golden--]
[No. That didn't happen.]
[Stay determined, a king in the mountain rumbles. A low-throated sound as Frisk rolls to their side, propping themself on their elbow to shake him off. To shake off the ache deep in their bones, nothing like the pain of a toxin drilling wire into their blood, but the Queen's dark court must not have been kind to the shells of its subjects.]
[OK. They're up.]
[They're determined.]
[Frisk pushes themself into a sitting position, blankets falling from their shoulders and pooling around the small of their back. Frisk sighs, rubs the heel of their palm into their eye. The other hand strays automatically for the lockets around their neck, and it's a cold reminder when their fingers close around empty fabric instead of metal.]
[Twin snaps of tension before a black portal. A monster with his phalanges twisted in the chains, in their collar, because he didn't want to let go.]
[...]
[What a mistake.]
and backdated to the start of July, to boot <3
yes that <3
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Photo tiiiiiiime
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... And by that I mean children!
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March 6
There are no crafty letters with this one, no colorful ribbons. No play that Santa got lost. Where the other presents were delivered with a cheeky smile on her face in the middle of the afternoon, Rin waits before she sets out with these ones, empty of expression. Waits until late, late, late night, where surely even the insomniacs must have tucked indoors by this hour.
It's the first time she's visited the treehouse since that incident with Sakura.
That isn't what made her stay away.
The door creaks beneath Rin's hand as she presses it shut behind her. Combing fingers through her long brown hair, she walks slowly. Past the bookcases. Past a kitchen: chairs, mugs, dishes, everything built for two. The treehouse is silent but for the wind outside and Rin's slow footfalls as she moves up the stairs, towards the bedroom that waits on the second level. And when she reaches the threshold, she pauses. Waits for her eyes to adjust.
She could turn a light on, but it feels more fitting this way.]
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Done