[There's that self-aware smile as they stagger up to their feet, dishevelled and dirty and sweating and teetering like some kind of back-alley drunken hobo. Ha. They've been a back-alley hobo for brief periods of time, too. As long as they could get away with it.
They stumble upstream, away from the spot they were sick. Over to the mouth of the pond. Cleaner up there. Splash cold water over their face, try and get mud and sick off the ends of their hair sticking to their face. Rinse their mouth out, wonder briefly if the water here would give them dysentery or something. Still mud all over their shorts, their legs, their shirt. Their sleeves are still wet from the middle of their forearms down. Try as you might, you can't wosh u SOUL. Never really clean, just... slightly less foul.]
You remember when I first came here, Frisk? You said you'd thought I'd gone to rest or something.
[Maybe that wasn't the first time they saw that perfect ending? Maybe they remember something past the barrier. Maybe they remember weeks, months, maybe even years on the surface. Maybe they didn't think it was all that perfectly happy, because Asriel hadn't been SAVED the way they wanted him to be.]
Everyone here from the... the best timeline. The good one. They didn't... know me. They just knew the old story everyone hears.
[The king's son, Asriel, and a human who fell. Humanity taking everything from monsterkind all over again.]
I think that means... either I'm not there, or you never tell any of them about me. Proves we don't have to be friends. Don't have to need each other like this. Proves you're okay without me, right?
...Maybe "okay" isn't the right word.
[Not for either of them. They sort of shrug one shoulder. A halfhearted, weary invitation to try and put this sickness behind them, at least a little bit. Wosh u teeth and eyes.]
no subject
[There's that self-aware smile as they stagger up to their feet, dishevelled and dirty and sweating and teetering like some kind of back-alley drunken hobo. Ha. They've been a back-alley hobo for brief periods of time, too. As long as they could get away with it.
They stumble upstream, away from the spot they were sick. Over to the mouth of the pond. Cleaner up there. Splash cold water over their face, try and get mud and sick off the ends of their hair sticking to their face. Rinse their mouth out, wonder briefly if the water here would give them dysentery or something. Still mud all over their shorts, their legs, their shirt. Their sleeves are still wet from the middle of their forearms down. Try as you might, you can't wosh u SOUL. Never really clean, just... slightly less foul.]
You remember when I first came here, Frisk? You said you'd thought I'd gone to rest or something.
[Maybe that wasn't the first time they saw that perfect ending? Maybe they remember something past the barrier. Maybe they remember weeks, months, maybe even years on the surface. Maybe they didn't think it was all that perfectly happy, because Asriel hadn't been SAVED the way they wanted him to be.]
Everyone here from the... the best timeline. The good one. They didn't... know me. They just knew the old story everyone hears.
[The king's son, Asriel, and a human who fell. Humanity taking everything from monsterkind all over again.]
I think that means... either I'm not there, or you never tell any of them about me. Proves we don't have to be friends. Don't have to need each other like this. Proves you're okay without me, right?
...Maybe "okay" isn't the right word.
[Not for either of them. They sort of shrug one shoulder. A halfhearted, weary invitation to try and put this sickness behind them, at least a little bit. Wosh u teeth and eyes.]