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determinedest) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2016-01-25 10:14 am
determinedest) wrote in entranceway2016-01-25 10:14 am
video / action
action.
The last time they woke like this it was on a bed of golden flowers, silk-soft and the petals still crisp with a long-dead magic. They strain for a whiff of memory, the bittersweet cinnamon-sawdust-y scent of an old spell woven deep into the fabric of the atoms in the soil and worms and rocks. Instead, the air is sharp with salt. There’s water nearby, lapping against sharp-edged rocks, and the ground they’re lying on is soft and cold.
Their hands sink into soaking white powder when they roll over. For a moment Frisk squishes the snow between their fingers thoughtfully, remembering Snowdin and the way the strings of holiday lights and the sign to Grillby’s emblazoned in neon almost made them feel warmer despite the ice and the slush.
They scrunch their nose in contemplation. They left Snowdin behind with the rest of the Underground once the barrier was - it was shattered. So why are they - ?
They scramble to their feet, limbs already numb and clumsy from the cold. They feel hazy, like they’ve just RESET, but they couldn’t have. They wouldn’t have. Everyone was finally happy.
Almost everyone.
Frisk tilts their head back, sucking in the cool air, studying the gray sky. No, no. They’re not underground anymore, so they couldn’t have RESET. Did they reach for their SAVE file? They wouldn’t think they’d have any need for those once everyone was free, but sometimes a SAVE would form without conscious effort. They don’t remember this. Their memories of Mt. Ebott, the Underground - none of them were like this, with a snow-covered beach and a sense of isolation so deep they begin shivering. Or maybe that’s just the fact that they don’t have a jacket. All they have is their striped shirt and the faint warmth of the heart-shaped locket nestled beneath. They paw at it unconsciously, warming the pads of their fingers on the soft red glow.
The other hand goes to their pocket out of habit, and Frisk startles faintly when their hand brushes against something small and blocky and unfamiliar. When they withdraw the object from their pocket they stare at it. It looks vaguely like the cellphone Toriel gave them, but subtly different, different enough for them to know that it’s not the same one. They thumb over the power switch and watch it hum to life.
Communication is one thing. They need to get out of here. In the distance, the distinct shape of a building looms. It's the only landmark they can see from here, which doesn't provide them with a great deal of choice. They strike out toward it at once, trudging through the snow in little more than a striped shirt and jeans.
video.
[They almost revert to basic text, but that doesn’t seem like such a good option for a first introduction to...wherever it is they've ended up. Audio isn’t an option, not for someone who never says ten words when two would suffice. So Frisk turns on the video, hold up the little device carefully so they’re fully in the frame, and addresses the network.
They’re just a kid, small and ambiguous in every sense of the word, but they're undeniably scared. Behind them is a backdrop of snowdrifts and icing-over water, their current location entirely vague.]
I fell. I need a way back.
[That’s it. It’s a simple message, seven words, and their voice trembles slightly toward the end of even that tiny sentence but they made it. Solid and direct, as is their prerogative. They communicated what they had to. Hopefully someone out there will hear them.]
The last time they woke like this it was on a bed of golden flowers, silk-soft and the petals still crisp with a long-dead magic. They strain for a whiff of memory, the bittersweet cinnamon-sawdust-y scent of an old spell woven deep into the fabric of the atoms in the soil and worms and rocks. Instead, the air is sharp with salt. There’s water nearby, lapping against sharp-edged rocks, and the ground they’re lying on is soft and cold.
Their hands sink into soaking white powder when they roll over. For a moment Frisk squishes the snow between their fingers thoughtfully, remembering Snowdin and the way the strings of holiday lights and the sign to Grillby’s emblazoned in neon almost made them feel warmer despite the ice and the slush.
They scrunch their nose in contemplation. They left Snowdin behind with the rest of the Underground once the barrier was - it was shattered. So why are they - ?
They scramble to their feet, limbs already numb and clumsy from the cold. They feel hazy, like they’ve just RESET, but they couldn’t have. They wouldn’t have. Everyone was finally happy.
Almost everyone.
Frisk tilts their head back, sucking in the cool air, studying the gray sky. No, no. They’re not underground anymore, so they couldn’t have RESET. Did they reach for their SAVE file? They wouldn’t think they’d have any need for those once everyone was free, but sometimes a SAVE would form without conscious effort. They don’t remember this. Their memories of Mt. Ebott, the Underground - none of them were like this, with a snow-covered beach and a sense of isolation so deep they begin shivering. Or maybe that’s just the fact that they don’t have a jacket. All they have is their striped shirt and the faint warmth of the heart-shaped locket nestled beneath. They paw at it unconsciously, warming the pads of their fingers on the soft red glow.
The other hand goes to their pocket out of habit, and Frisk startles faintly when their hand brushes against something small and blocky and unfamiliar. When they withdraw the object from their pocket they stare at it. It looks vaguely like the cellphone Toriel gave them, but subtly different, different enough for them to know that it’s not the same one. They thumb over the power switch and watch it hum to life.
Communication is one thing. They need to get out of here. In the distance, the distinct shape of a building looms. It's the only landmark they can see from here, which doesn't provide them with a great deal of choice. They strike out toward it at once, trudging through the snow in little more than a striped shirt and jeans.
video.
[They almost revert to basic text, but that doesn’t seem like such a good option for a first introduction to...wherever it is they've ended up. Audio isn’t an option, not for someone who never says ten words when two would suffice. So Frisk turns on the video, hold up the little device carefully so they’re fully in the frame, and addresses the network.
They’re just a kid, small and ambiguous in every sense of the word, but they're undeniably scared. Behind them is a backdrop of snowdrifts and icing-over water, their current location entirely vague.]
I fell. I need a way back.
[That’s it. It’s a simple message, seven words, and their voice trembles slightly toward the end of even that tiny sentence but they made it. Solid and direct, as is their prerogative. They communicated what they had to. Hopefully someone out there will hear them.]
video;
Are you hurt?
video;
I don't think so. Just cold.
video;
[He relaxes a bit.]
Can you see the mansion from there? It's warm there.
video;
But that's ridiculous. They aren't Underground anymore, and it's just a mansion.]
I think so? It's the only building I can see.
[They've already begun moving toward it, seeing as it logically seemed like the best place to go. Progress is slow and their legs are on the shorter side, but they're determined.]
video;
[He pauses, thinking that being too forward might just seem threatening, but his big brother instinct is too strong for him not to make the obvious offer.]
I can come out to meet you, if you want. I can bring a jacket.
video;
[They might be rather small and unassuming for a human, but they couldn't have gotten through the entire Underground on their own if they weren't fairly self-sufficient.]
A friend's coming.
video;
[He's relieved, though it might be difficult to tell through the neutral expression and tone.]
There's someone here that you know? Someone from your home? That will make getting around easier for you.
video;
[They don't mind the general expressionlessness so much. They've been the cause of similar confusion on their end.]
A monster. He should be here soon, I think.
video;
My name's Souji. I run a diner on the eighth floor of the mansion. Any time you want to stop by you're welcome. [He pauses, then adds,] I've been here a long time, so I might be able to answer questions you have.
video;
[Eighth floor. Mansion. They pause to file away that information for later. "Long time" gives them pause, however. They wrinkle their nose.]
How long is a long time?
video;
video;
[That single word has a lot of weight to it. Frisk's shoulders drop and they stare miserably at the floor for a minute. They don't even know if they can muster the determination to form a SAVE here. They might just be trapped. Forever.]
Do people, um, often come and go?
video;
Yeah. My case is pretty unusual, and some people don't stay long at all, just a few weeks.
[Guessing what question might come next, he adds:] There isn't really any way to predict it, unfortunately.
video;
This is entirely different. Maybe that's better, if someone like them doesn't have that measure of power.
Maybe that's better.]
I guess that makes sense. This place seems... [They search for the right word.
They can't find it. They trail off.]
video;
[It's hard to explain that feeling, and it can be overwhelming.]
Like I said, you're welcome to come to the diner any time. Just let me know what you want to eat, and if I don't know how to make it, I'll look it up.
[He enjoys that, but he also finds that it's comforting to people to have someone cook for them something they personally like, even if it might not be quite as good as what the Mansion can churn out.]
video;
[It'll be good to see if food would restore HP here, like back at home.
And then, they hesitate. The impulse to ask for something involving chocolate doesn't belong to them, of that they're entirely certain, but it scratches at the corners of their mind regardless.
Uncomfortable. They dismiss it.]
Do you live on that floor too?
video;
[A beat.]
You can stop by there, too, if you ever want.
[It's a good thing to know where to find people in case something happens. The network doesn't always work during events and sometimes you need to just hide in the first place that's available.]
video;
Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.
[Are they the type to categorize who they know and where they live? You bet they are.]
video;
Welcome to Wonderland, Frisk.
video;
Thank you, again. You've been really helpful.
[They're still unnerved, but a little less scared than they were. And that's nice.]
video;