ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hadrielmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2016-10-14 11:08 am
hadrielmods) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-10-14 11:08 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- ahsoka tano,
- allison argent,
- alphys,
- armand,
- bianca,
- carlisle longinmouth,
- castiel,
- chara,
- cole,
- dean winchester,
- emily,
- faith carr,
- flick,
- frisk,
- gren,
- hannah washington,
- henry cheng,
- henry percy,
- jill valentine,
- jo harvelle,
- l lawliet,
- lea,
- maketh tua,
- mello,
- miriam day,
- nick valentine,
- noah czerny,
- pell,
- river tam,
- sam winchester,
- sans,
- shadow the hedgehog,
- tiny tina,
- ushahin dreamspinner,
- will graham
Event Log: Keepsakes
Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Keepsakes event!
Where: All around the city
When: October 15th-October 19th
Warnings: A bunch of random crap.
What: The event log for the Keepsakes event!
Where: All around the city
When: October 15th-October 19th
Warnings: A bunch of random crap.
Well, Hope and Delight are messing with the door again, but at least this time dragons aren't involved, right? This attempt goes a bit better - sure, no one gets sent home, but if everyone will just look under their seats, they'll find a FREE [INSERT SOMETHING YOU MAYBE DIDN'T WANT AT ALL HERE]! Awesome! So nice! Yup, throughout these few days people will be finding things from home - something they loved, something they used all the time, something they hated, something they totally forgot they even had. All sorts of cool stuff!
Well, they might not actually find it. Their neighbor might, or a complete stranger. And who knows where it could turn up? At the park, half-buried? In the Silent Hill zone, kept safe by a horrifying monster? Or hey, maybe in somebody's underwear drawer. Awkward. Better try to find your stuff, or find the owner of whatever weird crap you found. It could be something important.► This log covers October 15th-October 19th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you somehow manage to die in this event, please let us know here, and also what the hell?
look at this photograph
Fuck syntax, anyway. He's never been pedantic about that kinda thing. Unlike -
Well, he's never been pedantic.
But then he realizes there's somethin' stuck to the bottom of his slipper. He peels it off, holds it up to the light, and if he had a heart it would'a dropped to his nonexistent stomach, compressing painfully, because that - that one is the one he remembers. Everyone smiling. Happy. Not scribbled out in bright red, hintin' at somethin' - darker.
No one would've suspected a thing. No one would've suspected a damn thing.
He stands there, starin' at it. Then, slowly, without breakin' eye contact with the photograph in his hand, he draws its counterpart out from where it's been secreted in his notebook and holds it up. Side-by-side comparison.
He, uh.
Well.
He doesn't really know what to do with this information, if he's honest with himself.
He doesn't have a clue.]
every time I do it makes me sob
But there it was. Frisk, Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore, Alphys and Undyne all together. All happy. They had never seen an ending that left Asgore alive but there he was. And ending that saw him alive. Saw everyone alive and whole and together, even if it wasn't "Together together" from before Chara broke everything. Asriel wasn't there but--
But they were going to give the photo to Frisk. Maybe there was something in their partner's memory that could help them understand it. But the photo vanished when they turned around for too long and led them on a merry chase around Hadriel trying to get it back. The tapes had been something that technically belonged to them so Chara didn't understand why this one was so...mobile.
They do see Sans on the way and would have just passed him by if they hadn't seen
Red crosses out all the love you have for someone because when you have no SOUL you can't love anything, you monster. You demon. You awful child.
...oh. Yes, that would make sense. Aahahha, yes it would. But they can't find any words to use. Not even Chara's stock greeting would come up. Nothing.
* You're filled with nothing.]
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But now? Now, he's...he's really got no clue, does he?
Did he ever, ever really know anything, a single damn thing about them?
He looks up at them as they stop, and he's not sure what he sees reflected there. Shame? Puzzlement? Confusion? Fear? Grief?
Slowly, achingly slowly, his hands drop to his sides. One photograph at each side. He smiles, 'cause he always smiles, but his supraorbital ridges knit down in something approximating a frown, or a quizzical look.]
Heya.
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They try to school their face into...okay, they don't know what someone would want for this what would anyone want from Chara right now? Well, blank. Blank was good. Blank didn't mean anything. They can do that.
Chara isn't armed. The Real Knife is in their inventory but it's not equipped at the moment. So that's something...]
Greetings.
[The child says as monotone as possible. May as well...keep it the way it always would be. It wasn't going to last, was it? No.
None of this was made to last, was it?]
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There it is, though. That familiar exchange. Back and forth.
Heya.
Greetings.
And so it goes.
He'd put his hands in his pockets, but he doesn't wanna crinkle the photographs he's holding. Either - either one of 'em. They're proof, aren't they? Proof. Accountability. The one thing he's - well, it's his job, ain't it? And maybe he can envy the version of himself that got to sit there with his face scratched out because at least it means, hey! Looks like you got an ending, huh? Don't have to care anymore, do ya?
He doesn't have it in him to be envious. Not now. Maybe not ever again.]
Heckuva day we're havin', huh?
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You should be smiling, too.
Aren't you excited?
Aren't you happy?
You're free now.
Chara feels like scratching at their throat. The coil of sin that was always ready to strangle them at any given second was tightening. Waiting. It was going to happen. It was going to happen.]
So it seems. Everyone is receiving gifts. Almost like a birthday party for everyone.
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[He doesn't wanna look back at the photographs. Not either of 'em. He almost wants to just - drop 'em here, let 'em flutter limply to the ground. Let the kid have their way with 'em. Rip 'em up, burn 'em, whatever.
He's sick of this.
He's sick to death of this.
He is so fucking sick of caring.
But then, of course, of course, there's that thing that holds him back. That pang of sentiment that twists painfully in his SOUL like a live snake. That knot of caution, reminder that this? This is irreconcilable proof that it's possible. That everyone can, has been, will be, might be?
That they have the potential to all be happy.
He wishes he could let go of that.
He wants it gone. He wants it gone.]
What'd you get?
cw for suicidal ideation
They walked down a path that would end it all and this is what they have to see but another path that was much more suited. A path that saw everyone alive. Sure, maybe their parents didn't get back together - Chara can't tell from the photo but they're close and it was like the one that they took when it was all loving and they were loved and it didn't hurt. Chara didn't spend time waking up thinking "You're better off dead Chara! You know nobody loves you! May as well go back to sleep and never wake up!"
Butterscotch. Love. If Chara wasn't an expert in keeping their expression neutral by this point, they'd be a screaming mess. More so than usual.]
I received a few memories from home. You possess one currently.
[There's no way they'd be able to lie there way out of this. Not this time. Well...they've never been able to lie to an adult before.]
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Ah.
[A few memories. A few...yeah.
Yeah.
He doesn't look at 'em, either of 'em. Can't - can't bring himself to. So he looks at the kid instead as he lifts his hands, slowly, holds both photographs out, face-up. Doesn't look at which one he's got in either hand. Holds them both out, and waits.
Make your choice, kiddo.
He's not gonna make it for you.]
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And then he holds the photos out without a word. Looks at them and holds the photos out and they know what he's telling them. Make a choice because he wasn't going to do it. Because you're the one with that special power, aren't you? It's you. It has to be you. It'll always be you because you brought these sins down upon your head as you declared there was no going back.
One, everyone with a smile on their face. Two, with all those smiles blotted out with red crayon. How had they done it, Chara wonders. One by one like in the Underground probably. There was no way they could have done it at once.
And then what?
They don't know. Chara can't know. They've only beaten Sans. They can't know anything more than that. But a decision has to be made, doesn't it? That was the option they were given. One or the other. It's not like there's any middle ground left.
Chara approaches slowly. However this turns out, they don't want Sans to believe they plan on suddenly attacking him again. They own him that much for everything so far. The picture of everyone together, smiling happily and laughing is in his right hand. Frisk looks especially happy and a bit exhausted as if they'd gone through a fight even more harrowing than Flowey. But they looked so satisfied with whatever they had done. That's what the Fallen Child had wanted to show them. That despite everything, Frisk was still Frisk. That despite everything, there still was a chance for that Happy Ending.
They take the photo in his left hand. And there's nothing else left to say.]
1/4
It's cruel of him. He knows it is. It's unspeakably, unbelievably cruel, to put this on them, the put the onus of it on their SOUL, as if they don't have enough to think about. He makes the kid make the hard choices, 'cause he's not the one who makes choices. He's just the one who accepts things as they come.
The choice is always theirs. To show MERCY.
Or not.
What he's doin' here, that ain't an act of MERCY. It might as well be a challenge, a punishment.
He feels the photograph in his left hand slide out from between his fingerbones. He lets it go, unresisting, and his hand drops. He replaces the one in his right, tucks it away in his pocket without looking at it.]
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But he keeps lookin' at 'em, tiredly. His gaze maybe stained with the barest strains of melancholia.]
Does Frisk know?
[He doesn't elaborate. Don't need to. Do they know about the existence of either photograph, and will they in the future?]
cw for suicidal ideation
They know. Chara deserves exactly what they get. And that's to walk off the chair. It's easy. They've already fallen off a mountain. Six floors is about high enough.
But they probably won't. Frisk is still here. And speaking of which, at Sans' question Chara shakes their head, their expression blank.]
I was not planning on telling them. Coming from me, there is no point.
[Chara remembers the first time they ever lied. It was like this and so, it was easy to say. It can't hurt them anymore.]
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He'd ask but -
Well. He thinks he's been cruel enough for one day. Don't you?]
Yeah. I wasn't thinkin'...I mean, they've never seen the way things...
[They've never seen those kinds of endings. They must not've. They'd remember.
Wouldn't they?]
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[It's sharper than usual even if Chara hadn't intended to speak. It may be him trying to avoid being cruel but theorizing made it worse in a way. And there were probably consequences for making the choice to give them that choice but Chara is too tired to think it up.
But there's nothing stopping them from allowing a little bit of anger slip past their mask before it disappears again. Just...calm down.]
There is very little to discuss now. Unless there is something else to tell me, then I have nothing else to say.
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The red slaps him across the skull like a verbal gauntlet, thrown and clattering on the ground in the form of a single word. A formless challenge. Do not dare progress, Sans. Do not dare - heh. Do not dare pass GO.
Do not collect two hundred dollars.
He doubts they'd find that as amusing as he does. If only darkly. Dryly. With numerous caveats, all painful, the same he way he finds anything amusing.
Sans laughs. Dry, humorless, empty.]
All right. Fair enough.
[Still don't know which...
Well. He'll figure it out sometime, won't he?]
I won't tell 'em if you don't want me to, kid. You know that, yeah?
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* You feel like screaming.
* But you don't.
Instead Chara just stares at him. No point at breaking eye contact now. Whenever Sans works up the courage to look at the photo he'll find out what they've condemned themselves to. But until then, they'll keep to this.]
I would appreciate it. My partner has enough to deal with.
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Well, we can agree on that, at least.
[He's, uh. He guesses he's worried about 'em. About Frisk. About the way they handle things. About how they don't seem to factor themself into the equation any.
He teach 'em that too, did he?]
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It had been a legitimate accident at the time. Just a stupid potted plant. It's not like they hadn't been scolded before but then they didn't feel bad. The first time they acted out of line and it felt great not to feel bad.
But that's not the point they're trying to make. It's just that right now Sans reminds them of that potted plant. They want to break it again. They want to break him again.
The sound of ribs snapping stop them in their tracks.
* Because you can't do it, can you?
...why is Chara even bothering with the narration. They instead nod and turn around to leave. If Sans has anything else left to say, he better say it now. Otherwise they're gone.]
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To spite him?
To prove a point?
Or simply 'cause they felt they deserved it?
He's got no clue. So he doesn't ask. He doesn't say anything at all.
He lets 'em go, because that's what he's best at.
Letting people go.]