entranceway | video/action; who said that every wish would be heard and answered

[Based on the shot of the grass and the surrounding floral backdrop, it's clear that the feed has switched on in the garden. The phone itself is buried in the grass, tilted at such an angle that the back of Frisk's head is visible as they bend over a crackling piece of paper.

They've a very - singular look to them today, it seems, complete with an oversized blue jacket reminiscent of the one Sans might typically be seen wearing, the sleeves awkwardly bunched at the elbows where they've been rolled up. On their head is something thick and white and almost woolen - a hat that, on closer inspection, has soft horns and long goatlike ears knitted into it. A gift. Something they haven't worn a single time since Toriel's arrival. It had felt too much like an insult to do so.

But currently, they don't intend for anyone to see or hear this except Napstablook, whom they'd been hoping to impress with how much they'd worked on trying to learn the song the little ghost helpfully wrote out for them. The recording isn't private, however, as they must have intended it to be.

Frisk settles onto the grass, facing mostly away from the recording device. For a moment they pluck idly at the strings of the instrument they're holding, one that the musically-inclined might recognize as a ukulele, before they begin to play. They're clumsy and halting, starting and stopping periodically as they struggle to master the instrument. It is difficult, after all, to play with hands that are perpetually bandaged.

Soon, though, Frisk's wavering voice joins the thrumming of the strings. They are not an experienced singer, nor is their playing perfect. Occasionally they have to stop mid-lyric to adjust their fingering, or to play a part of the song over a bit more smoothly. But the music peels out into the crisp autumn air regardless.

Can you hear it?

For a few minutes after the song's conclusion, Frisk sits there on the hump of grass overlooking the garden, apparently contemplating the empty air in front of them.

Then the feed fades out.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Do what you can Frisk. Perhaps I may even have a story to tell you later on.

[Sad it it's own way, read all the way up to the top of a tower. The being that Frisk reminded him of.]

Nevertheless regarding the fetch quest for the books is easier. If you find it interesting likely I will, so feel free to pick and choose. I will be around when you are done amigo.

I'd like that.

[Their voice is soft. To hear a story - his story, presumably - if only to understand him better? That'd be worth the effort to write out their own in and of itself.

He's got an interesting sense of prices. And an interesting way to get to them. Opening those doors, as if knowing that they won't simply offer information about their own life freely, knowing that it must be coaxed out, requested as a price, before it is something worth seeing.]

Thank you. I'll...find your books soon.

[In a sense it is a story that involves Zacharie in the smallest of ways. Any that completely involve him have been shelved long ago, and the usual one is still waiting to begin again.

He packs his stuff up and stands again. Frisk has to take the narration's words but he is smiling.]

Take your time. I am in no rush to see this completed so it is up to you to set the pace. Take care Frisk.

[You have not reached the end just yet.]

[They'd thought that they should and would reach The End soon enough. But they didn't. Decided not to. Agreed instead to go with Chara into another world, one they can't taint with their special power.

Start again.]

All right. And, um...you too, Zacharie.