badda bing badda boom (man we do a lot of threads)

[boogerman]

Pitch is nuts. Both Dreemurrs must know this by now. Sometimes he pops in without so much as a Chatsy warning dragging in strange gifts, mostly in the last year or so. Look at him, feeling comfortable at last after four good years of friendship.

So, when he pops out in the middle of their kitchen (oozing out of a cabinet a six-foot man can't fit in without violating the laws of physics) with a humongous box of stolen fireworks, that's normal, see.

It's the Fourth of July. You two live in America. Time to blow up your yard!!

Comments

[dustless]

She is grinning. "Come now, Pitch! Is it a horrid joke?"

Frisk shakes their head, but they don't answer her. They don't even look back at her at all.

Their fingers dig into their knees. They feel...weird all of a sudden, staring at their picket fence. There's flowery vines growing all up it. Asgore planted them. They're...pretty.

Frisk's a little worried. Mostly confused. This is familiar, but not enough.

[boogerman]

"Of course it's horrid. The horror never stops, you know who I am." Time to bring out the secret weapon?

"Some people are far too old to be treated like a kid by a goat." Ha.

[dustless]

That is a joke she has heard, and a bad one besides.

This does not matter.



"Pitch!" She is definitely laughing. "No-one is too old to be schooled by a teacher!"

Frisk rolls to their feet, padding over to the fireworks. Picking out another color, mostly, and...listening.






(Nature loses, Nature reclaims, but it takes Time. They're linked to each other.)

[boogerman]

"You win." He's grinning for the billionth time, what nasty teeth. He's not very good at this... wait. "I have no school spirit."

Frisk's concern prickles at the edge of his awareness... hmmm.

[dustless]

They pick green, heading to the driveway, and stop. The leaves are rustling...

"Ahaha--giving up the ghost at the prowess of my jokes?" Tori winks. "You truly must try harder." Can you imagine he giving out punning lessons, Pitch?

[boogerman]

It's a lot like seeing someone wave out of the corner of his eye. Metaphorically. Waving over and over--notice me, I'm nervous!

"Oh, shut up. Don't be so monstrous." That one he may have said before, hell if he remembers. He's watching Frisk, distracted.






One mile away and closing.

[dustless]

They toss it a fair distance away, distractedly waving to Toriel to light it.

"My child," she says reproachfully.

Frisk skips across the yard--to the picket fence, incidentally--and says "Please set that one off." Good to be polite, right?

Pale flame arcs. The firework booms and shows off its pretty colors. Frisk can barely look at it. They're staring out over the fence, at the road instead.

"...Did...we forget something?" they ask uncertainly.

[boogerman]

Damn. His other secret pun weapon, ignored. It doesn't matter. Frisk is being uneasy about something so vague he can't pick it up.

"The... food?" Sniff. Is it burning? Well, all he smells is the smoke from the fireworks. He's not a dog. "Nothing else to forget?"

[dustless]

They stand on their tiptoes, as if they'll see something better that way...but nothing. Just the street, mostly empty. Other monsters are gathering elsewhere, like at the bigger fireworks show near the park later.

"I do not believe so, Frisk." Toriel isn't smiling so much now--they didn't mean to disrupt things.

So they shrug and return, dropping onto the grass between the two of them, lightly leaning against Pitch. (Some instinct saying protect him, deep down.) They don't say another word.

[boogerman]

So nervous for a kiddo sitting around watching fireworks. Do they realize he's eating some part of them when they feel this way in his presence?

Eh. What can he do? In all his many years, he's found no way to stop feeding off fear.

"What's the matter? Do you want to stop?"

[dustless]

It's not physical, so they wouldn't care if they thought about it--they don't even realize they are nervous. Frisk just thinks they're confused.

"Huh? No. I just feel...like we forgot something. Or I did. But I dunno what." They shift to look up at him, smiling gently. "Just gotta...think about it. Till I remember. Or somebody."

[boogerman]

His eyes flick to Toriel, then back. And the only decent response is to flick their little devil horns.

"Carry on, then." Maybe it'll pass. Whatever. Nothing's actually wrong.

The wind begins to pick up.

[dustless]

They make a little startled noise. And naturally, Frisk reaches up to poke him on the forehead in retaliation.

"I will tell you if I remember anything, my child," Toriel assures them as she turns back to the grill. Hmm.

g2sleep

[boogerman]

"Probably you're wanting real hot dogs, with meat and salt and fat." he says and then she's there. There, striding across the lawn towards the house. The grill. The three of them.

Mother Nature, back again. She does not look pleased.

Pitch shoots up as if the battle has already begun. Their lives depend on him, don't they? His scythe is already in his hands, his face is a snarl. He can't find the words.

[dustless]

Hell.

Frisk's on their feet too, expression flat--they're scared for Pitch, for mom, they're both right there, but they're not gonna let her see that.



Toriel puts herself between Frisk and the woman, to Frisk's increased anxiety. "Mother Nature. What a surprise to see you here," she greets coldly.

[boogerman]

Funny, Toriel's read his mind. He's between Nature and Frisk. It would be terrible to lose Toriel, but to lose her and Frisk...

Would shatter him to pieces.

The women in green stops some three meters from Pitch, eyes only on him. The wind is blowing harder, flapping her dress and blowing her hair wildly. It makes her look dangerous, as does the fury on her face. But no vines are stirring, no hole opening to swallow them up.

"How dare you." says the unmotherly Nature to Pitch. "After all you've done, how dare you."

The scythe's handle is on his shoulder. It doesn't weigh a thing to him, it's practically part of him. He's looking even angrier than she is, if that's physically possible. Unlike her, he's raising his voice. "How dare I?! How dare you! Coming here again--you know I haven't harmed either of them! I may not be a good person... but you're worse!"

[non_egressive]

Toriel motions for Frisk to still, and they do so. For now.

It does not matter who Nature once was. If she threatens Frisk, she will be stopped. Period.

She strides forward until she is standing at Pitch Black's side, hand at her side smoking. "You do not need to be here." Her tone matches Nature's. "We are merely enjoying the night. Leave."

[boogerman]

"What are you doing, anyway? Spying on them?!" Deep breaths would help, Pitch. If he weren't so terrified.

She curls her lip, wind picking up even more. Feel her power. How dare anyone threaten her--Nature itself. And the gall of the disgusting little shadow abusing her father's corpse. Tormenting her by playing house with others. It knows, doesn't it?

"What gives you the right to make such a mockery of family, Pitch Black?"

[non_egressive]

Nature's power is considerable. Just because Toriel is not a spirit does not mean she lacks her own.

Behind them, Frisk clenches their fists.

Toriel steps forward one, two, three more steps. Her throat is tight, but that will not stop her. She is confronting a child grieving for a parent, yet still an incredibly dangerous one.

"I am sorry, but it is none of your business what we do here, with or without Pitch Black. If you wish to speak to us--to me--then you may come back later." She very much sounds as she does when speaking to an unruly student.

[boogerman]

It's pretty damn obvious to him she's not going to say a damn word to Toriel. Well. Maybe if he shuts up and pretends not to be here. Maybe he'll get an explanation. He's so tense, he looks like a wire about to snap... but all he does is tighten his grip on his weapon and shut up.

Her eyes flicker to meet Toriel's, cold as ice. "Not until he answers the question. Or do you speak for him?"

[non_egressive]

Red eyes level with hers.

"You are taking things much further than necessary. We were simply enjoying the night together, as friends are wont to do in such times. There is no mocking here."

[boogerman]

She meets Pitch's eyes again and he loses control of his stupid mouth. (Infuriating crazy women do that.) "Explain what the hell you keep jabbering about or get out of here! None of us have a clue!" As far as he knows, that's the truth...

The grass ripples beneath all their feet and begins to grow. She's only growing angrier. "I don't answer to you, Nightmare King. You know very well what I want. Stay away from the Dreemurrs."

[non_egressive]

Toriel's claws sink into the dirt. One of her hands begins burning brightly.

"No," Frisk says from the background. "Just 'cause we like him and you don't doesn't mean you--"

"--You hold authority over him, nor us," Toriel interrupts. "You do not. You should leave to discuss this later," she repeats.

[boogerman]

"...No. Why--" His grip loosened for a minute. He squeezes the sand again, glaring. "Why are you obsessed with this?! I swore not to harm them! I'm not a threat! You are!"

It just doesn't make any sense. Why is she behaving jealously, he tried to be friendly to her before and it failed every time.

"What do you want me to do? Beg? Kneel and kiss your feet? What?"

The wind is strong now, stormy. Weathermen somewhere must be confused. "But I do. Don't I?"

[non_egressive]

Toriel squares her shoulders. "No. You do not. And what is past is past, and the most responsible thing for you to do would be to leave it be."

Frisk's eyes flick to the back of their mother's head. What's she talking about?