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

I think we've all been there

[boogerman]

What is that... Heh. Heheheh. Sort of funny.

"I know a better song, you know."

[dustless]

They bet he knows lots of better songs. This one is just funny.

"What is it?" they ask anyway.

[boogerman]

He pops open his laptop, finally, taking time to get the damn 'website' thing open and find the 'you tubes'...

It's not a pirate song. It has made an impression on him though, many years ago. Anyway--up he goes, after turning the tinny laptop volume as high as he can, and springs into an unexpected shameless dance.

He has good balance for a drunk. And he's holding the bottle, like it's a microphone.

[dustless]

Frisk claps a hand over their mouth. They had no idea he could do that--would do that--this is great. Fun and hilarious--

The door opens.

"..."



"...am I interrupting something?"

Toriel is more focused on the dance than what is in his hand for the moment.

[boogerman]

Certainty he'd never think to hide that he's wasted. He's much, much older than Toriel, it's not as if he's a teenager sneaking around--or that this is enough of a habit to be a problem.

The dancing is much more embarrassing, but he's not hiding that either. Can't do that while the song is still playing!

~♫ last known survivor ♫~

[dustless]

Frisk freezes. Busted.

Toriel's initial amusement backslides.



"Pitch Black. Why are you in my child's room when you have that in your hand?"

[boogerman]

The dancing stops, the music goes on. His strangely hairless brow raises, questions written on his face.

"What? It's not an, a weapon."

[dustless]

"You are drunk. Drunk adults should not be around children."

"Mom," Frisk pipes up, "I invited him, knew he was." They're going to try to get him in as little trouble as possible. Even if they don't think it'll work that much.

[boogerman]

"That's not making sense." Ahh, bizarre logic incoming... "It's not catching to their little baby livers."

...Hahaha, little baby liver. "I think that's right. Chatsy, I said I was lonely. It was nice."

[dustless]

"..." He is certainly being more open than she can remember. And Toriel cannot forget the source of his loneliness.

She tells herself that does not matter.



"Frisk, you are not responsible for adults. Not anymore. And very much not while they are under the influence."

"But he doesn't have anywhere else to go! He's not...doing...he's not trouble."

[boogerman]

"Not going to hurt Frisk." Certainly not, he's in control of himself and his shadows. "Not even a nightmare. I'm supposed to go?"

This... is saddening. Very saddening. But he's aware enough to know Toriel can do nasty, painful things to him.

[dustless]

"Are you certain you have that much control over yourself? You do not seem to have as much as you think. I believe it would be for th--"

Frisk gets in the way. "No, promised he could stay." Maybe in not so many words, but so what. "You can just stay with us, right? To. Watch him an' stuff."

[boogerman]

"It's not, ah, it's just words. Only jumbled a little, because there are so many languages, see." In his head. And Frisk not knowing any!

Though that's expected of a ten year old. "I can still dance."

[dustless]

"That has nothing to do with this."

She stares at Frisk; they stare right back.

Toriel is not comfortable with this. She also would not be comfortable forcing her child to break a promise. Or to exile--

She sighs. Very well.

"I will be in this room with you."

[boogerman]

Oh, good news! A third person! That's fine with him, very much so. The two of them will probably want the bed, won't they... he settles himself on the floor right where he is, legs crossed. Ah, this is easy, there's a bit of a shadow right there for storage and trash can purposes.

"It's the solstice, remember?"

[dustless]

"That does not explain why you are here, drunk."

She does cross the room and settle beside Frisk. Her eyes do not move away from Pitch for a single moment.

[boogerman]

"It's the longest night. Every year. So I--I always have a holiday!"

Right... why is he here? "Frisk asked. I thought that was so nice."

[dustless]

Toriel looks at her sheepish-looking child and has to fight back a sigh.

"You should be more careful, Frisk. And ask permission."

Frisk wiggles in place and shrugs.

[boogerman]

"I don't see why. It's all made up, I don't eat human children."

Very, very helpful, Pitch.

[dustless]

"I said no such thing. I would be just as unhappy if Frisk had allowed another monster or a human into our home who had been drinking. I would not have given permission."

...Hence why Frisk hadn't said anything.

[boogerman]

Needless to say, he looks skeptical once Toriel brings up other people also being allowed.

"It's the... drinking? Not who's done it?"

Weirdos.

[dustless]

"That is what I have been saying."

Frisk mouths an I told you so behind Toriel's back.

[boogerman]

"Oh. Were you?" Well. Now it's clicked, hopefully he'll remember. (It should, he's stopped drinking more, it'll wear off in a mere few minutes.) "That's nice, too, it's not just for me."

And he just blinks at Frisk, nodding. Right, right, Frisk probably did tell him so... ah, he's going to regret everything soon.

[dustless]

Frisk sloooowly slides off the bed to thump on the floor.

Toriel sighs.



"Alchohol can make anyone forgetful and emotional. There is no guarantee that those things will not result in disaster."

"You've been good, though," Frisk insists.

Toriel visibly fights back another sigh.

[boogerman]

He shrugs. "You, you're fire. Fire beats the darkness. You could make me..." Aw, now he's spooking himself with thoughts of light and being set on fire. He's very good at freaking himself out, just like he is the world in general.

"...please don't, it passes fast. Spirit."