boxfullofzeroes | more for the boogerman

dustless posting in

(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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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."

From:

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?

From:

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?"

From:

dustless

They're more awake thanks to the subject, so yes.

"...people...hate you 'cause you're scary. But you're not to me. And even when you are, you--you need to be. Right? It's how you're alive, 's what you're for. That seems like a stupid reason to hate somebody. And you're my friend." Frisk doesn't think they've said that before, but he probably needs to hear it.

From:

boogerman

"Fear's supposed to, meant to protect... but I can't do it right anymore, not enough me." That made more sense in his head. Ah, well, who cares.

"You're not lying?"

From:

dustless

Not enough him. Not enough him thanks to people hating him and not believing in him, and the moon making things worse. That's not fair, Frisk wants to make it fair, and they don't know how.

"Not lying." They aren't sure why they--or anyone---would. "I promise," they say solemnly, reaching up to pat the hand he's got on their head.

From:

boogerman

He himself can't make it fair, despite his best (if crazed) efforts, he'd never expect a child to.

"So sweet." he says, continuing the petting as so as their hand is off his. It's either that or pet the blankets some more. "I won't give you nightmares. Not on purpose."

From:

dustless

This does not mean Frisk will not try.

"I know. You never did anyway. Thanks," they add anyway.

From:

boogerman

Petpet. Are they sure they're not lying? It seems a lot to swallow... and no, no, he can't have his thoughts turn dark and spiteful. He reaches in to his shadow and retrieves more drink.

"We could watch more films, see, instead of nightmares. No sleeping."

From:

dustless

Subject hopping, okay.

"Yeah. I can show you pirating sites so you can save movies to the--" they point at his laptop "--without having to buy them."

From:

boogerman

"Pirating? What's a pirate have to do with films?"

Probably... best not to try and teach him tonight.

From:

dustless

Whoops.

"...with not buying the movies. It's called pirating. 'Cause it's better than 'stealing'. Unless you have a bank account."

From:

boogerman

That's something worth laughing at, that's amazing and hilarious.

"Pirating is the new word for stealing? That's good, I love it."

He pops the seal and digs in, so to speak. His happy warm drunkenness has been fading in the last five minutes or so... it really, really doesn't last.

"...I pirated this."

From:

dustless

"Mmeans--it's mostly for...internet stuff."

They grin. "...but it is a good word."

Okay, why not--they snatch their laptop from their pillow and look up You Are A Pirate.

From:

boogerman

Chuggachug. He stops petting their hair, distracted... "How do you know how to steal and--and hacky things? You're only ten!!"

Relax, Frisk, he approves so very very much, it's not scolding!

From:

dustless

They glance up at what they can see of his hand in askance.

"I'm not very good at it." Though better than the average ten-year-old, definitely. (Thanks, Alphys.) "Other people do that, and then put it up to be nice."

From:

boogerman

"If they're sharing it, why--they'll get caught."

Of course, his muzzy head is picturing something more like an idiot bank robber tossing the money around publicly in the streets... Eh.

From:

dustless

"Do sometimes, I think. But it's easier to hide on the internet and stuff."

"Do what you want 'cause a pirate is free~!" floats from the speakers.

From:

boogerman

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

"I know a better song, you know."

From:

dustless

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

"What is it?" they ask anyway.

From:

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.