Frisk (
dustless) wrote in
boxfullofzeroes2016-06-12 09:29 pm
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more for the
boogerman
(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.
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.
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"No, I'd catch you before you hit. After you'd wet yourself." Loophole! He takes their hand and there they are in the kitchen... not falling out of the sky.
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"No," they say as they toss it into the microwave. "Not scared of...up...of heights. Fell down inside the mountain, you know." Well, they climbed a bit, but there was still a pretty long drop.
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There's not much to watch--pushing buttons, and then sitting on the counter to wait. For some reason. There's a chair right there, kid.
"...'Cause it can stop them doing stuff they want to do? Or what other people do? Or 'cause it feels gross?" they venture.
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It's kind of a relief, being able to talk about their deaths with someone.
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"But imagine a world without fear, if you can."
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The microwave beeps loudly, and they twitch.
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They grab an oven mitt, get the spaghetti ready and cooling. Smells good.
"All the stuff tonight's been weird."
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"I am a strange child." Their voice pitches to sound like their mother's.
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"...don't think so? Called me weird." They shrug lightly. "But you prob'ly count anyway."
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They glance at his fingers. Their heels start bouncing again to match.
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(* You start to figure out the sound, the first child murmurs in the back of their head. They're still getting back into the whole existing thing.)
A fun thing, a challenge thing, both. They're good at learning rhythms, even if they aren't sure if they know this particular tune.
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With a quick lunge forward, hands reaching--"Boo!"
Shut up, he deserves fun and funny things too.
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They yelp and jerk back and swing their fork along with the spaghetti they'd forgotten on it in his direction.
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"Watch your back. I'm still the Boogeyman."
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shut up I'm doing this again kay IT IS PITCH
nerd
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