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]

"No. It's fine, I won't leave you stuck on the roof." He knows they're worried, but what's he supposed to do about that? Feelings are not his problem. He sits right on the edge, long legs dangling over. "I just need a moment."

[dustless]

At least they're not laughing at him, or something.

"...'s okay." They almost match him, sitting cross-legged about a foot back from said edge. "Got lots of moments. An' we can see the fireworks good from up here, if you want," they say cautiously.

[boogerman]

Laughing, playing in the snow, forgetting he exists not a half hour after he was going to hurt them all... like some other children he could name.

No, Frisk is not that.

"Yes. I'll do that, thank you."

Has he ever said thank you before to them?

[dustless]

...no, he hasn't. And that, added to their worry, leaves them speechless.

Good thing Frisk doesn't mind silence.

Or near-silence, at least. It's a few minutes before the fireworks are due to start, and they shift a little closer to the edge once they hear people filtering out onto the front lawn, their chattering drifting up to the roof and the music drifting through all the air.

[boogerman]

Breathe. Breathe. He should be used to this by now... It doesn't get any easier, knowing he's not real. Only real to the people in this town.

Not. Real. Real things don't get walked through. Real things are always solid.

Eventually he glances to his side...

"Don't fall, weirdo."

[dustless]

(Frisk would reach out to hold his hand if they knew his thoughts...and if he hadn't ordered them not to grab him.)

"I won't. An' there's bushes." They smile, crookedly. "Probably wouldn't die anyway, just break stuff."

Asgore said the fireworks were on the roof...but there's a lot of roof, here, with weird levels jutting up against the sky even from where they're sitting. They don't see where the light shoots up from, exactly, only that it does, and they jump and the people below (humans and monsters alike) scream as a single glint of light shoots impossibly high into the air.

Frisk leans back onto the roof tiles with a thud. Easy to see without having to turn around at all!

FREEEEEDOM

[boogerman]

Silly child, he meant don't follow him into puddles of shadow.

But.

"Babies." He says, with only a whisper of the sarcasm he'd normally have. "Poke me when you want to get down."

:D?

[dustless]

Well...Frisk is there. If he's brave enough to reach over, right now.

"Hey, s' a surprise to everybody else." It explodes into a ring of silver and pink, impossibly massive. Frisk suspects magic.

[boogerman]

No. It wouldn't be appropriate, would it? He's the Boogeyman, he'd only make them nervous. Make them wonder when he'll start ripping off their fingers or something else monstrous.

He wrinkles his nose at the brightness, but hey. It's still sort of pretty. Frisk has the right idea and he lies back like they are, hands supporting his head. Beats craning his neck upwards.

He says nothing. He's not in the mood...

[dustless]

Ah, Pitch really doesn't know them all that well yet.

Frisk watches the colors flash. Mostly pink and silver because Mettaton, and mixes of purple and gold for the royal colors, and--pink and blue almost-lines. They laugh quietly to themselves.

[boogerman]

He continues to lie there silently, trying to talk himself into returning to the party... and failing so far. What for? He came to enjoy himself and this right here is much better than going back for a bit of food and another shot at being walked through. It's also not as bright, nighttime is comfortable on his skin. The longer he lies here, the calmer he feels.

"What's so funny?"

[dustless]

"Just...somebody put my favorite colors in there. Wasn't 'specting it."

This is pretty nice. They can socialize more later. And this probably isn't the only fireworks show for the night, unless Mettaton and Alphys don't know about how fireworks go off at midnight, too. Highly doubtful.

[boogerman]

"Purple and gold?" One in three chance he's right.

"You're practically their mascot. It shouldn't come as a surprise."

[dustless]

"Pink an' blue," they correct easily. "And that's still...weird."

They look over at him, wondering if asking Pitch Black his favorite color--and then remember that he says black and gold suit each other.

...

They should get him a present that's gold-colored. A necklace or something.

[boogerman]

"Of course it's weird, anything with you involved is bound to be weird." He's not even wrong, though he's teasing. Weird kid, weird times he's had lately. (So would be getting a present. No human ever has, and so few spirits. His last set of lovely gold things were broken, too. He needs new ones.)

[dustless]

Frisk shrugs, watching dimming leftover sparks drift through the air. Fireworks already smell weird, but these even moreso, somehow. Must be the magic on them.

"You're the one makin' me sound like...a cartoon on a cereal box."

[boogerman]

"No. Not a joke, I didn't mean that." He hasn't looked at theme once, not after settling down. Only the Moon, the sky, and the fireworks.

[dustless]

And somehow, that reminds them of what they'd just seen happen.

"I mean, guess me being weird isn't much of a joke."

Frisk stretches, hands towards the sky, blocking out part of the fireworks with their fingers. They think about how they can maybe word things and, in the end, can't think of anything fancy.

Quietly, tentatively, they look at him from the corner of their eye and ask: "...you okay?"

[boogerman]

"You're weird and famous among the monsters as some kind of hero, even I can see that." The weird bit is a joke! The rest, no.

He draws back his legs, crossing one leg over the other, and keeps looking up for more bursts. Is he okay? Sure, in the sense that he's not injured, not too hungry and he will carry on. That's what he does... he keeps on going.

"I suppose. It happens all the time when I'm not paying attention."

rereading drunk thread to refresh memory, getting weirdly emotional

[dustless]

They're both of these, and a sort-of ambassador. 'Mascot' seems weirder than being called weird alone.

"Oh." They think they can relate, in a way. All the times they were thinking of what to do underground, not paying attention, and got hit by bullets.

"...I'm glad you...came to this party, jus' so you know. But sorry that happened."

D:?

[boogerman]

"You didn't do it. I wasn't paying attention." he repeats, for emphasis. "I knew there were humans here. I let my guard down." Which he must never ever do, as Pitch Black.

just poor lonely pitch.

[dustless]

"...shouldn't need your guard up at a party," they mutter, sitting up and glaring down at the bits of crowd they can see below.

piiitchipoo :(

[boogerman]

He raises a brow, not that they'd see--since he can't take his eyes off the nice dark starry sky.

"No? People everywhere? Of course I have to be paying them attention." What a strange mind someone must live in that they don't.

[dustless]

"Yeah, not to run...into them." Not through them. Them through him. Whatever.

[boogerman]

"Trust me, I didn't mean to." he says, bitterly. "It's a nasty feeling."