In my head, I am still there

[save_theworld]

Who: Fruks and anyone of the nosy sort.
What: A small child holes up in a library with indecipherable notes from a man who doesn't exist. Nothing goes wrong.
Where: The librarby.
When: Evening of the 20th, through to the 21st.
Warnings: Ten year olds have all the existential queries, really.


i. ssssSSSHHHHH!

[With the discontent rumblings (and...explosions) of the past few days beginning to die down, Frisk decides, in a token flash of alacrity, that some personal space is necessary.

Or- no. Not really. What's needed, more than anything, is a break from the cycle they're in. A rinse and repeat of getting up, trying to clean streets that are never really going to be clean, having dinner and going right back to bed. They've been in such a cycle before. It never ends well for anyone. Sans left them a hot dog, a month ago.

Sans left Chara a hot dog. Things aren't going well.

Still, better things to focus on. Things like the fact that large, white bookshelves prove to be over twice Frisk's height in many places, and problems like how many of the books and papers within reach are filled with nothing but nonsense, or information that doesn't help. They don't really need to know about the statistics of immigration throughout the year 201X, thank you, or The Most Ridiculous Laws Still In Place Today, even if it's kind of funny, that wearing hot pink pants is illegal on Sundays.

Hence, climbing said bookshelves is fine. It's fine. It's- its fine until they reach the top.

Then it's just a matter of contenting themselves with the view for a few hours, until they figure out how to get down.]


ii. Can you even call this a librarby, I didn't get a chocolate on my pillow or anything.

Whilst it does take most of the night to traverse the many, many shelves for something even close to useful- as well as sort out the issue of how one gets both up and down from such fixtures- inevitably Frisk makes a small pile for themself in corner, just beneath one of the many luminous light fixtures. It's not the most comfortable position, but it is out of the way.

From there, it's a matter of opening each book in turn, and burying their nose into it. It would be in bad form to leave permanent marks on the paper, but a small, lead pencil to write in the margins, and they think- well, it should be okay, right?

It would be okay, if anything they'd found so far was useful. The most recent book lands back on the pile with a loud smack, and the child slumps back against the wall, rubbing their eyes. If it feels like they've been at this for hours

That's likely because they have.

Comments

ii

[somuchlove]

[There were times when Chara couldn't sleep. They were a light sleeper anyways and when the nightmares got worse and worse they simply gave up on it. Frisk likely knows, heard them in the rooms outside trying to be as quiet as possible as they wandered around to keep their hands busy because sleep was out of their reach.

It was one of those nights and Chara wandered their way over here. Books were nice to read and it was quiet so there would be no issue if they stayed the whole night here.

At least until Chara hears the smack of a book falling and turn the corner to see.]

Frisk?

[What are they doing?]

[save_theworld]

[Bad dreams weren't unfamiliar to either of them. If anything, it was the one thing they could never escape from. More than one night saw Frisk wandering through to get a glass of water, finding Chara on the couch. They'd never had to ask any questions to understand.

In the middle of rubbing sore eyes, Frisk flinches at the noise, immediately looking over with a soft expression of apology; you didn't really frighten them, Partner. Not your fault.]

Hi.

[Couldn't sleep either, huh.]

[somuchlove]

[No. Chara knows they don't have to say why they're here or ask why Frisk was awake at this hour either. They may not know the exact details yet, but it was likely close to the same reason.

Instead they just go over to sit beside their partner.]

What are you looking at?

[* There's quite a collection here.]

[save_theworld]

Books.

[Not a lie. There's also plentiful rolls of parchment and other papers, but a good amount of it is books. Things of a relatively similar theme- The History of Ciphers and Codes, Ciphers, Codes, And Discreet Algorithms, Codes, Tricks, Spies, Thieves and Symbols...]

They're hard to find.

[somuchlove]

[Code breaking books? It brings to mind Papyrus and his puzzles, but those weren't usually as difficult as these books looked to be.]

I suppose these are difficult to find as they are not a common read. Why the sudden interest Partner?

[Going to make something with Papyrus?]

[save_theworld]

[A slight pause of hesitation. Chara won't mind, if they have something that doesn't belong to them. Chara won't mind, but perhaps...]

...Found some papers. The letters are all funny, like- [They hold up their hands, fingers curling and flexing into vague patterns.]

I thought- maybe someone wrote their name on it.

[After all, they could still give them back- after Frisk has read them.]

[somuchlove]

[Chara blinks twice and then breathes. Perhaps it was because they came both as narrator and concept of something they didn't yet know, but the patterns gave Chara an itch they couldn't physically scratch.]

Would you like some help translating them?

[Two heads are better than one, even if it may take many to crack this code.]

ii

[alltozero]

Asriel, he... had sort of hoped that things could be perfectly happy again, now that Chara was back. His problem had been solved, after all. Sidequest complete. Ending A achieved.

But things... they were still... it didn't feel perfectly happy. Not with Frisk hiding like a ghost. Not with this peculiar sense that he was the one intruding on Chara and Frisk's happy life, not... well, why would he think a thing like that, anyway?

Once upon a time, when he needed to be strong, he asked himself what Chara would do. For a short time, instead, he asked himself what Frisk would do. Now, he needs to be strong, but he doesn't quite know who he should be trying to be. He doesn't know what to do at all.

But... he ought to start somewhere. Asriel Dreemurr was the kind of boy who tried to do the right thing, even if it hurt.

It takes a long, long time to find them. He doesn't have much luck catching them at home, because he knows he's not very welcome around them, and intruding in their room feels like an invasion of privacy that he shouldn't demand. So he wanders, tries to get to know the layout of the land better, and at last, stumbles onto Frisk in the library, more by chance than by insight.

"Um, Frisk. Howdy," he offers, looking uncertainly at the uncomfy-looking nest of books they've piled around themself. "Are you busy? I can come again some other time if I'm bothering you. I just thought... we should talk, maybe."

[save_theworld]

Oh.

Frisk can feel their shoulders going stiff, quietly trying to release both the tension and an exhale without making it too- apparent. They aren't trying to start something, after all, it's just- they don't want to get in his way.

But if he's looking for them, if he wants to talk, then they aren't getting in his way at all, isn't that right? Unless, perhaps, the realm of conversation is to politely advise them that they've overstayed their welcome, and they should move out after all.

"Uh, no. You can-" Sit. Somewhere. Fumbling with their spread, they clear the space to their left, patting the space invitingly. There's- well, there's plenty of distance there. He can sit as close or as far as he's comfortable.

[alltozero]

It's a start. Asriel shuffles over to the place they indicated. Maybe a little bit too far away, but when Chara had only just fallen and barely knew Asriel at all, he'd certainly had to learn that it was maybe better to give someone too much personal space than too little. Better to err on the side of caution when you don't actually know where somebody's boundaries are.

He tries not to take up too much space. Not much more than a flower would, ha ha. Knees up to his chest, arms around his legs, ears flopping down against his knees as he bows his head.

"I think we might feel better if we just - if we talk," he starts, but immediately feels a little foolish, because he already said he'd like to talk. But he means - not like when Chara went... went away. Not asking questions and not getting an answer. Not giving Frisk the cold shoulder. "I should try to be the friend you always wished you'd had, too. That's only fair."

More than fair. He has a lot of "bad" to be making up for.

"Do you remember the last time we talked? Back in the Underground, before we all came here. I asked you why you would climb a mountain like Mt. Ebott."

Was it foolishness? Was it fate? Or was it... because you...

He knows what drove Chara, at least, even if it had been too bleak a thought to utter out loud. Too bleak to ask of Frisk, back when he thought it would be the last time he would ever see them. But now...

"I didn't really give you a chance to answer out loud, back then. Would it be okay if... this time, I listened? You don't have to tell me, but after all of this, I..."

Want to know why they would think being killed was a kinder fate for Chara. Want to understand why they would... well, only they know the answer, don't they?

[save_theworld]

People can have many, many reasons for choosing the way they sit. Many. But for a child, watching another sit at a distance, curl in on himself, it feels like...to them, at the least, that he's expecting them to hurt him, too. To take up a knife and show him they believe in kill or be killed, that sometimes, they just did things because they could. And because they could, they had to.

So Frisk mimics him. Knees drawn up to their chest, hands tucked away, where they can't hurt him at all. He thinks they should...talk. He thinks he should try to be the friend they always wished they had, too, and they feel

Terrible.

They feel even worse at the question. Dropping their gaze almost immediately, body jerking with a slight hiccup of- of action. Mt. Ebott.

Lotta legends surroundin' a mountain like that. Isn't there?

If it were Sans, they might just get up and leave again. Questions like these; they change things. Nothing ever settles back down once they've been said, when there's no option to take them back, or forget. But unlike Sans, Asriel... knows, what he's asking for. They hope he knows.

For Chara's sake, they really do hope he knows.

"...You haven't asked me before." Frisk does their best to make sure they're heard. Speak clearly, because no one likes it when you have to repeat yourself. Don't mumble. Especially when telling someone what you've done wrong. "Not me."

[alltozero]

His... he can't say his heart sinks, because he's not sure he has one anymore. But something sinks.

He doesn't understand.

There's only one way they'd know who Chara is. Flowey - Asriel - he was the only one left who still called their name. The only one who could tell Frisk why they were special, why he was doing all this, what kind of person they were.

He wonders... have the two of them been in Hadriel so long that it's the reason Frisk calls them "partner?" He wonders if the two of them ever talked about him. It broke his heart - ha ha, or lack thereof! Funny, right? - to roam the Underground as a flower, and never see anyone talk about Chara. Toriel never told her new child about what her first children liked to do. Asgore talked about this new kid being like a family, but never spoke Chara's name.

Maybe it would only be fair, if he had been forgotten here.

"Maybe you didn't go back to... to the flowers Toriel planted," he stammers. Doesn't want to say their grave. He tries to laugh, because he thinks Chara would laugh a feeling like this off. It's not a big deal, right? "After everything that happened, you probably just wanted to get out of there with all your friends."

Perhaps... they did Reset. Perhaps they went back and did it all again, even if that was the outcome they'd fought so hard to stop. Maybe they did it because they didn't forgive him, not this time.

Maybe he shouldn't think about this.

"Well, um... let me ask you for the first time, then. Did you do it for... the sort of reason that Chara did it? A... not very happy one?"

[save_theworld]

Maybe they're just not the person he wants them to be. It's almost aggravating, the way he makes excuses for them. Like maybe, they just didn't press the right switch. Maybe they just forgot to do that part. Maybe they actually got out.

That's not it, is what they want to say. That's not it at all. I don't know you. I never knew you. I've never left the Underground. But the thing is, he keeps pretending- keeps acting like Frisk is a whole lot nicer than they really are. If they tell the truth, all of it, will he ever talk to them again? This person who isn't even remotely like the friend he always wished he had?

"I guess," Is what Frisk says instead. Drops a hand to the carpet, lets their fingers rub across the rough surface, collecting fluff beneath their nails. They don't want to talk about this at all, except, maybe, they owe him this much. Something. "I did it because... it was where I needed to be."

i.

[skelebro]

[Things aren't going well.

He's tired. More tired than usual, perhaps, but that's what he gets for utterly failing to keep Papyrus safe, yet again. Not just from the thing that nearly tore him to shreds - a witch, he's learned those things're called - but from his own integrity. He sent a line of femurs shootin' on through her, and he didn't think that'd be enough to -

For what it's worth, Sans didn't think it'd be enough either. And if Papyrus falls to that, if he's forced into that corner, who the hell is Sans to judge a couple of kids for the very same, huh?

Who the hell is Sans, anyway?

Last thing he expects, when he's off in the library, debating whether or not to follow up on Kate's offers to learn healing magic, is to actually find one of said kids just kinda parked on one of the shelves. Not even by the shelf, but on it, sittin' on one of the upper levels like it's no problem.

The issue of how they got up there is nothin' compared to the issue of how they expect to get back down. Sans cocks his skull, regarding them with the mildest hint of concern.]

You doin' okay up there, kiddo?

[save_theworld]

[They're slow to respond, head eventually dipping forwards to look down at him. You really don't look to them like the bookish sort, Sans; that, more than anything, is what makes his presence so surprising. A joke book in a physics book in a joke book a philosopher makes not.

But he's here anyway. Waving, they rock forwards slightly, eyes glancing over the shelves and books they'd...somehow traversed, slowly pondering their current plight. They can get down if they try, they suppose. It's not a huge problem.]

Just thinking.

[skelebro]

[Well, they got one thing right; he ain't a big reader these days. Mostly it's car magazines and tiny physics books and things he got stowed away behind in his workshop. But even those old things have acquired a fine patina of dust, if only the regular sort born from disuse.

Sans keeps his stare and his grin neutral as he joins in on the speculation as to, uh, just how they landed themself up there.]

You need some help gettin' down?

[save_theworld]

No.

[...

Mind, they aren't going to move, at the moment. Perhaps they'll just- wait. For Sans to collect whatever it is he needs, to amble away; out of sight and out of mind. No reason to bother him with this; they'll- they'll figure it out, eventually.]

Um, thanks. [Tacked hastily on the end, before he presumes they're being rude.]

[skelebro]

[Well, then he ain't gonna push it. Still, color him a mite curious - there's that old scientist rearing its unwanted head again, the need and the drive to ask questions even as he'd like more than ever to just let things lay where they are and be on his merry.]

Whatcha doin' in here?

[save_theworld]

[...Is he not going to go anywhere? Sitting on a bookshelf is hardly as comfortable as it looks, they hope he knows, and slowly, Frisk shifts further towards the edge, feet pointing down as they attempt to gain leverage on the next shelf down.]

Researching. [And in a slightly more accusing tone:] Whatcha doin' in here?

[Aside from making them wonder if they should just- stay in place, and not cause a scene.]

ii!

[sciencelizard]

[Let's be completely real here- Alphys' sleep schedule is basically nonexistent. She sleeps when she's tired, and without a set structure or anyone asking for deadlines from her, her concept of 'when she should be awake' has become horrendously skewed. Still, it grants her the freedom to move around the city when most of it's inhabitants are resting, which... is nice! Nobody asking after her, or bothering her, and no concern about her embarrassing herself.

She's been exploring the library lately, picking through shelves upon shelves of nonsense in the hopes of finding new anime or manga, despite the fact that DVDs seem to not exist. She's on another late-night excursion of the sort when she jumps at the sound of a book being dropped, poking her head around the corner to the source of the sound.]

Hello...? Oh.

[Oh. A human. The human. Frisk.]

Uhm. H-Hey there.

[save_theworld]

[Imagine- everyone from their world has sleeping troubles. It's almost like what everyone went through was distressing, somehow; a series of unfortunate events that meant dreams were no longer a welcome respite from reality.

That's just silly, of course.

Frisk hasn't been feeling much like smiling, lately, but they do try. An upward twitch of their lips as they straighten up, hands falling down to their lap.]

Hello.

[A moment of thought, and they wave her over, pushing themself to their feet.]

Think I saw some manga, before.

[sciencelizard]

[She smiles, a little sheepishly. Is she really that transparent?]

H-Heh, how'd you know? I've, uh, poked a-around this place before, for books about this world's science, but uh, there doesn't seem to be much of it. At least the gods might b-be willing to give us some magical girls, right?

[Augh, this is awkward. She's gotta do better, jeez.]

What're, uhm, you r-reading?

[save_theworld]

[Less of a transparent act on her part, than an obvious one on Frisk's. With only a few hobbies and interests to keep in mind, they attach to the most readily available, nodding in agreement; the gods would do well to provide them with some magical girls.]

Oh um- [A slight purse to their lips.] Books about spy stuff. They're not very good.

[sciencelizard]

[Honestly, everything could be improved with magical girls. That's just science. And truth.]

Yeah, none of these s-seem to be, uhm, very useful. I'm not sure why, uhm, they even have a library if none of the information is, uhm, p-particularly relevant? Unless this is all just, uhm, r-random text that was pulled in with people through the Door, which would make more sense, uh, or... something.

[Aughhh, she's babbling again, lets her sentence end abruptly so she can go back to fidgeting.]

So, uh...were you just, uhm, looking to l-learn about stuff? Or, uh, pass the time?

[save_theworld]

[Frisk could drink to that.

Drink apple juice, but drink all the same.]

Maybe? I could ask Hope, he probably knows.

[They haven't messaged him in a while; hopefully he hasn't missed their jokes too much. All they have to do is think of a good, library related pun, and it'll be like they never stopped.]

Both? Um...

Couldn't sleep.