more for the boogerman

[dustless]

 (Continued from here~)

Frisk hopes there's no fight. 

They want to be left alone, sure, but that's not the only thing they hope for. Even they can't just fix a--rivalry, a longstanding hatred, at least not when the opposing parties actually know each other. But they also hope they can...lessen it, at least a bit. So the Sandman doesn't try to outright kill--no, they're sorry, 'banish', with lots of beating and tarry blood--Pitch when they see each other every time.

(Of course, they don't know the whole story. But they can't imagine that would matter.)

The time ticks down in companionable silence. 

Frisk keeps their eyes on the sky--

--and they sit straight up when they first spot glimmering gold in the clouds.

Comments

[boogerman]

"So. I am rude and I'll be what I want." It's his nature and it's good fun, even when he is in his right mind.

[dustless]

They give his shoulder a poke. "You don't need to be right now."

[boogerman]

"It's funny and you know it." Looong swig. He won't choke, so why hold back?

"...Where are the candies?"

[dustless]

"Sometimes."

Right now, they are being the Responsible One. "Might be able to get them if you're...slower with those." They nod at the bottle.

[boogerman]

"Why?" Suddenly he's fighting back laughter, so that he can get the words out. "You think I have a little baby liver?"

[dustless]

"Maybe. You are acting super weird, Pitch."

[boogerman]

He nods. Quite observant of them. "Hours. Hours and hours. Dozens and dozens."

[dustless]

God that sounds unhealthy. "Really? 'M surprised you're not..." dead, actually. "...sick."

[boogerman]

"Spirit." Obviously. He gets all of the more pleasant effects, if slowly, and none of the bad! "It's good. For my heart, my rotten heart."

[dustless]

"I remember. Still seems weird you can be that...silly...and just silly."

...silly is a weird word.

"Kinda don't think it works that way." Chestpoke.

[boogerman]

"You don't like it?" Who doesn't like fun? Fun!! And some silly.

"It's--it's cats. Something to do with cats. Cath, cat..." He mutters something in another language, or possibly several. "Do you just speak English?"

[dustless]

"...I don't know. 'S just....you're not usually so much."

Okay they have even less of an idea where that train of thought went. Cats? "Um, mostly. Know some Spanish. An' sign language. Only a little 'f both."

[boogerman]

"Spanish! Se español, yes, I do." It's an easy one, much easier than English and its insanity.

"I'm not so much what?"

[dustless]

"Silly. You're not so really silly. You're always a little..." Hmm. They're not...sure, exactly, how to say it. They slide down the wall a little. (Good thing they're a kid, they're at an angle that would be hideously painful to most adults.) "...angry, I guess."

[boogerman]

"I'm not angry!" He goes and drains the rest of the bottle in one go, yes, all of it, and then drops it into his shadow which is doubling up as a trash can.

"I'm--ah, you know, I'm happy. Alegre! You invitó, invited me to come!"

[dustless]

That...makes them hope he runs out soon. They also doubt he will.

"Yeah, you are now. Like I said, I'm not used to it. 'M glad you did, though. Come here."

[boogerman]

Not. A. Chance.

"You're so sweet." Happiness, a weird horrible thing on Pitch, it seems.

[dustless]

They rub a hand down their face. "Thank you." They do mean it.

Frisk likes seeing him without that weird anger undertone, but they also think it'll come back with a vengeance whenever he's done. They're worried about how he'll be--feel--then.

[boogerman]

Anger, fear, and mistrust--not quite gone, just buried. For now. He can be at peace for a little while, one night a year...

"You haven't even told me to go away, not once, not yet!"

[dustless]

"Wouldn't have told you to come here 'f I was gonna do that, you know."

...fine. Frisk pulls out the marshmallows and offer him more. They're a little squished and oblong, now, but it's not like that did anything to the flavor.

[boogerman]

"I mean at all." Gee, he's not keeping his voice down, is he?

Happy happy joy joy, more marshmallows! He takes a few and this time, doesn't fling them at their face. These are for eating.

[dustless]

They glance at the door. He's...very not. "Nope. You should be a little less loud right now, please."

Frisk pops one into their mouth and chews slowly, wondering if just letting him ramble for a while without answering would be the best thing.

[boogerman]

"I'm not--I'm not yelling, am I?" He's not angry, why would he be yelling?

What was he saying again? Oh, yes. He takes a few more marshmallows to pep himself up, gesturing with one and not eating it. "I know you're going to be tired of me eventually and all--odioy, lots of hate and you'll be sick of me--but it's nice! This is nice. I do like you."

[dustless]

"Almost..."

No. Nooo. Frisk scoots closer to his side.

"Not ever gonna hate you. Or be tired of you. Don't worry."

They are glad he said that, even if they've guessed as much. Why else come back so often?

[boogerman]

Is stroking their hair acceptable again, since they're within reach? He eats the marshmallow first--nobody wants gooey sugar mashed into their hair.

"Why would you say that?"