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

[dustless]

fr❣sk:

ok. thank u.

[boogerman]

Maybe, as he says. You try shadow travel when you're wasted.

mètminwi:

hate lone

[dustless]

Pitch must've had a lot if he's admitting that. More than once, even.

fr❣sk:

-^-

On one hand: a drunk Boogeyman in the house sounds like a recipe for disaster.

Other hand: they're used to disasters.

can u visit

[boogerman]

mètminwi:

YEse

Yiss oh yiss.

npw?

[dustless]

fr❣sk:

Yes

[boogerman]

Haaahahaha. Give him a few minutes to pack up the machine and roughly six bottles to take with him (the party must go on), stuffed into shadows to drag along... and a few more because he's making more wrong turns than right...

He doesn't arrive in Frisk's bedroom. He arrives in the bathroom, nice and dark, and promptly slams into the closed door, rather noisily. Ow his poor nose.

[dustless]

Frisk comes running--good thing it's the next door down from theirs.

"Pitch--? You okay?" they ask in a low voice as they fling the open the door. Hopefully he's not leaning against it.

[boogerman]

He's rubbing his nose, retreating back into the bathroom a bit. "Yeees." Oh, boy, is he smashed. "Do you have a telly? To watch?"

...Excellent priorities.

[dustless]

Uh.

"...The living room has lots of lights in it. Can get shows on my computer, 'f you want?"

They hold their hand out, as if that'll be enough to catch him if he falls. (As if anything they can do might be enough to catch him if he falls, they are tiny and he is a tower.)

[boogerman]

"Actual television? I can take you to the hotel!" It's a nice hotel and... he's speaking very loudly. He doesn't seem like he'll tip over, though. He's Pitch, he could probably still dance.

[dustless]

"...Mom wouldn't like that. 'N' I don't know a lot of Spanish."

Speaking of mom, Frisk glances nervously down the hall--they don't think him getting caught would be a good thing--and reach out to grab his wrist. They'll guide him to their room, which is all nice and dark, too.

[boogerman]

How peculiar. He's not feeling mean at all, why would she not want him around? Ah, well, he's not so lonely at the moment, he's happy to be led.

"But you don't have a telly! I thought everyone did these days, I--I could get you one!"

[dustless]

She doesn't even like being buzzed around Frisk herself.

"Thank you, but I'm okay," they say patiently, closing the door behind them. "Still have a computer. And accounts for TV sites."

[boogerman]

He crouches on the floor in the middle of the room, keeping balance very well for someone in his current state. Spirits, spirits are weird.

"But it's so small! Don't you want a 'big screen'?"

[dustless]

"...you can sit on the bed." So saying, they sit on it for themselves.

"I don't need one. I can watch stuff in the living room if I really want to. Usually. Fall asleep during movies."

Frisk is not gonna be taking their eyes off him.

[boogerman]

Ooh, beds. He goes and sits there instead, much more comfortable.

"Oh! You do have one, you're not deprived, that's good. Why are we hiding in here?"

[dustless]

Deprived? What a weird way to put it.

"Because there are lights all over, 'fairy lights'." That's what the packaging said. "They even hurt my eyes sometimes. And mom's...she doesn't like when people drink a lot."

[boogerman]

"She doesn't like me anyway--she." Hm. Train of thought. Holidays... "It's the longest night of the year. I wanted a holiday."

[dustless]

"...yeah she does. You wouldn't be 'llowed around me if she didn't. Not in the house, anyway." Toriel does know about his continued visits.

They glance out the window. It's a chilly night, lots of snow on the ground, though the sky is clear enough to see the stars.

"...halloween doesn't count, huh?"

[boogerman]

"She won't. Not forever. I'm the Boogeyman." He taps his foot on the floor to some tune, as he does.

"Halloween's for..." He gestures vaguely. "For busy. Fun, but not fun. This is different fun!"

[dustless]

"She's a monster. 'S long as you don't hurt me or anything, she doesn't care about that."

They tap their fingers on their leg, since they've shifted to be sitting cross-legged over the blankets.

"Different?"

...Maybe they should not be trying to get information out of a drunk guy.

[boogerman]

"I can't hurt you. But--but you know, she will." He's lost the tune, ah well. He sprawls backwards, too tall to fit sideways in a kid's bed, head able to touch the wall. Haaa. Does he have bones?? "But this is nice, till it's gone."

"Fear-fun. Like work."

[dustless]

...Can't? Frisk wonders if that's another spirit thing.

They fall back to lie beside him, too, and roll a little. "If she does, I'll get her to like you again." Armpat.

"Don't you get...work...like that on Halloween?"

[boogerman]

"You too." Awww what a precious child. He wants to touch their hair... but doesn't, not even wasted. (Maybe later.)

"Yes, yes, that's Halloween. This is today."

[dustless]

They're not sure what he's agreeing with, but they nod along anyway.

"Oh." Frisk is rapidly accepting that they're going to be entirely lost during most of this. "Your not-party party day. Maybe we can do something next time."