[The door is unlocked - not that he had much of a reason to lock it. If someone found out about what he did, if they were going to hunt him down... ha. That'd be okay. Faster that way and they get their frustrations out. Nobody loses.
Though he is calmer than before. Before being... a few hours prior? Something like that. Hadn't been paying attention to the time. Hadn't cared. Everything stands still. Almost had someone's dust on his vines claws again. Maybe he'll hurt Chara, too. But Chara can defend themself. They've attacked him without provocation before, after all!
That's okay, too.
So he just lets the phone drop from thorny claws, immediately forgetting about it as soon as the action is complete. Everything's muffled out. Can only hear Chara. A knock. Shuffling. Can't feel much of anything.]
[Silence. If you don't respond to people, they leave you alone, and your world goes emptier and emptier. Of course Chara knows that trick.]
I'm coming inside, Asriel.
[Give him warning. Telegraph your movements. They test the door (could they break it down if it was locked? Is LV 8 strength enough to force it?), and it opens without resistance.
...They think, if everything was still like it used to be, they'd want to close the door. He'd want to hide from everyone. He'd feel safe if it was just the two of them, because it was always the two of them. But the way things are now... they leave the door wide open. Shuffle to the side, toward the wall. Give him lots of space. Give him a clear escape route.
They have an extra threat to manage right now, after all. Themselves.]
...I won't come any closer unless you ask me to. But... talk to me, Asriel. Please.
[Light. A shadow. He can still see everything, even if he can't muster the energy to react or respond. Used to not moving. It'd been that way for a long time before he realized he could burrow underground and shift the dirt with his vines instead of limbs. Too bad he can't do that here. Fingers are vines, but he's too big now. Too awkward. He's in a building and not underground and there is no 'underground' in the floorboards.
Should he try again? Would Chara stop him? Maybe Sans will sense it and teleport back in the room and throw him against the ceiling again before he gets far. The first time, he was grateful. Now it's annoying. He screwed up, so shouldn't he face some kind of punishment? Die, lose some memories, and probably keep dying until the fifth time when Something Terrible happens.
Asriel gasps a little, trying to force words out. Something. Anything to help the situation. But it quickly shifts as he curls up more, a crooked smile spreading more on his face. And he starts laughing, horrid and high-pitched and familiar.]
[The script again. A giggle they know a little too well. One he... shouldn't be able to do, right? Don't think of that as really me, he tells Frisk (only Frisk, Chara's been gone for a long time). Don't have to reconcile your desire to be good with your capacity to do cruel, horrible things if you pretend that's an entirely separate, unrelated person, right?
But Asriel's laughing like Flowey laughs, and they don't think he should be able to do that when he's himself again.
This is... they don't know how to...
Well, they have to do something, don't they? They raise their hands, show him their empty palms. They have a knife on them, they always do, but they're holding nothing. Not gonna...
...They know the lines that surround the one he uttered. "But nobody came. Boy, what a shame! Nobody else... is gonna get to see you DIE!!!" Is that what he thinks... is that what he's after?
They let themselves slide down the wall, pool into a sitting position.]
But I'm not leaving, either. Not as long as you're calling for help.
[Try... uh... try easy questions. Focus on yes/no. Two clear-cut options were the easiest way to get an answer from their partner. Maybe it'll work here.]
[Didn't hear him calling them. Never came. Frisk did, but... they were there the whole time anyway, weren't they? At least he knows that for certain in the bad timelines. Only the bad ones. Conflicting data. Can't have two seperate things going on in the same line. Cause a crash.
The laughter finally dies down and his claw comes up slightly, clenching and unclenching and covered in thorny vines.]
"Did you hear me calling you?"
[Still reciting off the script. Engrained into his subconscious. So many things he'd seen, so much code. Over and over and over, for years.
The claw drops back to the floor. It rustles softly with the vines, but he doesn't feel the impact. Dull and weighted, like a body falling to the floor. A human one. Monsters just go to dust, after all.
His head finally shifts to look at them with blackened eyes, but only a single eyelight is visible.]
N... o.
[Still that voice, but... strained. Weak. His jaw trembles a bit, tears beginning to form in those terrifying eyes.]
[He's speaking... strangely. Cracking open the bones of the world, even if they've left that world behind. It buzzes in their head, like trying to perceive the individual atoms that make up an object and still see the gestalt at the same time.
They know they don't have that kind of power here. This world isn't theirs, not like the last one was. Reduced to a playground for lost children, subject to the whims of young minds grappling with power they shouldn't have. But maybe... with the little power they do have...?
Can't change things. Maybe they never really could. But they can speak. Can whisper.
Can't I, Asriel?
demonx You're in control, you know. demony The danger has passed. You can come back to yourself. demonz I heard. I'm here. I love you. demonr
Makes their head throb. Their jittering fraction of a SOUL ache. Modify variables planted long ago, try to speak, even if some whispers are too subtle for your partner to hear.]
Are you planning to hurt yourself?
[Have to know. A hard question to ask. One they know they wouldn't answer, were he the one trying to comfort them. But they... they don't know how to do this. They're trying for... whatever they think Frisk would do? What Asriel may have done for them long, long ago, in the cozy security of New Home.]
[Fragments and pieces of the code. He never dove as far as they did. Altered the universe, yes. Change it, made it his own. But that was with the SOULs. Here, it's just sputters, a feeble wisp of what he was capable of back then. 99999/99999 HP, LV 99999. Now, 50/65.
But he can still hear it. It plants itself within his mind with everything else, like it belonged there the whole time.
The danger has passed. You can come back to yourself.
This... wasn't really himself, was it? Don't think of it as me, he tells Frisk. However long ago that was.]
Please... help me... Chara, help me... please...
[Much different than Please don't kill me. Is he starting to trust them? Or is he just... desperate for someone to make the pain stop?
[They start to reach. Retract their hand. Promised they wouldn't get closer without permission. Know that touch doesn't help sometimes, that it just makes flesh crawl and a huddled body recoil.
So they stay where they are. Dig in, pry building blocks apart by force, shear through zeroes and ones like they're molecules.
Reclaim. Prune away. Restore the data. Don't need to LOAD what you can SAVE.
demona Take your fingers back. Flex them one by one. Feel each muscle answer you. demonb They're yours. You have arms, have claws, have fingertips. You're not a flower anymore. You're my best friend, Asriel Dreemurr. You can see the whiteness of your fur. You can feel its softness. You can feel how solid you are beneath your fur. You're real. You're Asriel.
demonc You're my brother. I love you so much. demond
It pulses beneath their skull, makes stars dance in their vision. But it's just... just whispers. Achievable, sustainable. Not brute-forcing the world. Only slipping into the empty spaces. Pencil marks in the margins.]
It's over now. Whatever happened, it's over. You don't have to be anything you don't want to be.
[Too afraid to make a new SAVE. Too afraid to lose himself again. The file was corrupt. Maybe because he was corrupt. Shouldn't really do a SAVE like that, not from the inside, not inserting your own values. Reset it all to 0. Start over. Better than being trapped.
His fingers flex. Slowly. Vines start to rot and fall away, dropping to the ground like crumbles of dust. You're not a flower anymore. He's not. He... is, but he's not.
I love you so much.
His head finally snaps up, blinking until his eyes are finally back to normal. Still tired, still unfocused, but not that horrible, gaping void anymore. There's pain in that empty hole in his chest where his SOUL should be. Just like... ha. With Frisk. With Chara in the bad timelines. Feeling something when he shouldn't be. Going against the script, breaking all logic.]
C... Chara.
[It's hoarse, strained from all the screaming, the crying. Just... pure exhaustion is washing over him now, the vines starting to recede. His fur is a mess and his neck still sputters a bit of dust from where he'd damaged himself, but he's starting to feel more like... himself.]
[They go against their word: he collapses over, and they rise to their feet, lurch forward before their mind can reprimand them. Get closer, even though they're dangerous, even though they shouldn't. But monsters are... they're fragile, so much more fragile than humans, and it still feels like at any moment he'll slip away from them, fade, drift out of their reach. Never see them, never hear them.
But it's... it's okay. He's just... worn out. Not fading, just tired. There's dust around the collar of his shirt, and it makes their throat constrict and the empty space where a heart should be lurch violently, flutter like a startled bird, but... he's... he's still here.
They... wonder if they should get Toriel. Or someone who can heal. But sleep... it heals too, right? Frisk curled up in their new bed back in Home, and even if it usually wasn't long until Chara prodded them awake with Asgore's voice, that restored them. Same with the MTT Resort. Snowdin would even heal them past their maximum HP. So... it should help Asriel too, shouldn't it?
...It's dark in here, so they fumble a bit, but the closets aren't hard to find. A blanket and pillow. Don't want to touch him. Drape the blanket over him, lay the pillow nearby. Ask the closet for a stuffed toy, an imitation of the ones that decorate the room they share with Frisk. A clone of the ones that used to be Asriel's.
(* Dusty toys.
They swallow down a lump that rises in their throat.)
Back pocket - no, their inventory. A chocolate bar. Kind of melty from their body heat. It's summer.
A memory intruding into their head, forcing its way in like an unwanted houseguest. Their first time tasting chocolate in Wonderland. Their first time tasting since the buttercups. Remembering his laughter that they'd hoard chocolate even if it meant it got melty. Remembering telling him they'd always share with him. Best friends forever.
Giggles. Promises not to tell Mom. Chocolate right before dinner, making a sticky melty mess of his fur!
They stamp it out. Cut the memory out of their mind. Don't want to fuss with melted chocolate. Just... just leave him the whole rest of the bar.]
Asriel.
[Not sure if he's totally out. Try anyways.]
If you're still sore in the morning, please tell Toriel. She'll heal you. You... you can say you scratched yourself falling out of a tree.
[Still don't know what happened, but they have a thousand excuses to explain away where injuries come from.]
...I'll... give you space. I'll. Um. I'll... be in the hall. Outside. If you need me to get someone, then just... just shout.
[Probably wouldn't rest easy with them in the room. Dusty hands and an empty smile and please don't kill me. They're not above consequences. They won't forget.]
[text > action]
[A sound. Not likely someone's broken into his room. Must be him.
...Where is Frisk? They should be the one doing this. Frisk is safety. Frisk is capable of comfort. Frisk is the friend he really wished he had.
They bite their lip. They clutch the locket. ...They knock.]
Asriel? It's me.
If I were doing this... I don't think you would let me be alone. May I come in?
[action]
Though he is calmer than before. Before being... a few hours prior? Something like that. Hadn't been paying attention to the time. Hadn't cared. Everything stands still. Almost had someone's dust on his
vinesclaws again. Maybe he'll hurt Chara, too. But Chara can defend themself. They've attacked him without provocation before, after all!That's okay, too.
So he just lets the phone drop from thorny claws, immediately forgetting about it as soon as the action is complete. Everything's muffled out. Can only hear Chara. A knock. Shuffling. Can't feel much of anything.]
"..."
[Go back.]
[action]
I'm coming inside, Asriel.
[Give him warning. Telegraph your movements. They test the door (could they break it down if it was locked? Is LV 8 strength enough to force it?), and it opens without resistance.
...They think, if everything was still like it used to be, they'd want to close the door. He'd want to hide from everyone. He'd feel safe if it was just the two of them, because it was always the two of them. But the way things are now... they leave the door wide open. Shuffle to the side, toward the wall. Give him lots of space. Give him a clear escape route.
They have an extra threat to manage right now, after all. Themselves.]
...I won't come any closer unless you ask me to. But... talk to me, Asriel. Please.
[action]
Should he try again? Would Chara stop him? Maybe Sans will sense it and teleport back in the room and throw him against the ceiling again before he gets far. The first time, he was grateful. Now it's annoying. He screwed up, so shouldn't he face some kind of punishment? Die, lose some memories, and probably keep dying until the fifth time when Something Terrible happens.
Asriel gasps a little, trying to force words out. Something. Anything to help the situation. But it quickly shifts as he curls up more, a crooked smile spreading more on his face. And he starts laughing, horrid and high-pitched and familiar.]
"Boy! What a shame."
[action]
But Asriel's laughing like Flowey laughs, and they don't think he should be able to do that when he's himself again.
This is... they don't know how to...
Well, they have to do something, don't they? They raise their hands, show him their empty palms. They have a knife on them, they always do, but they're holding nothing. Not gonna...
...They know the lines that surround the one he uttered. "But nobody came. Boy, what a shame! Nobody else... is gonna get to see you DIE!!!" Is that what he thinks... is that what he's after?
They let themselves slide down the wall, pool into a sitting position.]
But I'm not leaving, either. Not as long as you're calling for help.
[Try... uh... try easy questions. Focus on yes/no. Two clear-cut options were the easiest way to get an answer from their partner. Maybe it'll work here.]
Are you hurt?
[action]
The laughter finally dies down and his claw comes up slightly, clenching and unclenching and covered in thorny vines.]
"Did you hear me calling you?"
[Still reciting off the script. Engrained into his subconscious. So many things he'd seen, so much code. Over and over and over, for years.
The claw drops back to the floor. It rustles softly with the vines, but he doesn't feel the impact. Dull and weighted, like a body falling to the floor. A human one. Monsters just go to dust, after all.
His head finally shifts to look at them with blackened eyes, but only a single eyelight is visible.]
N... o.
[Still that voice, but... strained. Weak. His jaw trembles a bit, tears beginning to form in those terrifying eyes.]
Flag: but_it_refused.
[action]
They know they don't have that kind of power here. This world isn't theirs, not like the last one was. Reduced to a playground for lost children, subject to the whims of young minds grappling with power they shouldn't have. But maybe... with the little power they do have...?
Can't change things. Maybe they never really could. But they can speak. Can whisper.
Can't I, Asriel?
demonx
You're in control, you know.
demony
The danger has passed. You can come back to yourself.
demonz
I heard. I'm here. I love you.
demonr
Makes their head throb. Their jittering fraction of a SOUL ache. Modify variables planted long ago, try to speak, even if some whispers are too subtle for your partner to hear.]
Are you planning to hurt yourself?
[Have to know. A hard question to ask. One they know they wouldn't answer, were he the one trying to comfort them. But they... they don't know how to do this. They're trying for... whatever they think Frisk would do? What Asriel may have done for them long, long ago, in the cozy security of New Home.]
[action]
But he can still hear it. It plants itself within his mind with everything else, like it belonged there the whole time.
The danger has passed. You can come back to yourself.
This... wasn't really himself, was it? Don't think of it as me, he tells Frisk. However long ago that was.]
Please... help me... Chara, help me... please...
[Much different than Please don't kill me. Is he starting to trust them? Or is he just... desperate for someone to make the pain stop?
Pain. Ha. Flowers can't feel pain.]
LOAD failed. The file is corrupt.
I can't fix it. I c n't ix t.
[action]
[They start to reach. Retract their hand. Promised they wouldn't get closer without permission. Know that touch doesn't help sometimes, that it just makes flesh crawl and a huddled body recoil.
So they stay where they are. Dig in, pry building blocks apart by force, shear through zeroes and ones like they're molecules.
Reclaim. Prune away. Restore the data. Don't need to LOAD what you can SAVE.
demona
Take your fingers back. Flex them one by one. Feel each muscle answer you.
demonb
They're yours. You have arms, have claws, have fingertips. You're not a flower anymore. You're my best friend, Asriel Dreemurr. You can see the whiteness of your fur. You can feel its softness. You can feel how solid you are beneath your fur. You're real. You're Asriel.
demonc
You're my brother.
I love you so much.
demond
It pulses beneath their skull, makes stars dance in their vision. But it's just... just whispers. Achievable, sustainable. Not brute-forcing the world. Only slipping into the empty spaces. Pencil marks in the margins.]
It's over now. Whatever happened, it's over. You don't have to be anything you don't want to be.
[action]
His fingers flex. Slowly. Vines start to rot and fall away, dropping to the ground like crumbles of dust. You're not a flower anymore. He's not. He... is, but he's not.
I love you so much.
His head finally snaps up, blinking until his eyes are finally back to normal. Still tired, still unfocused, but not that horrible, gaping void anymore. There's pain in that empty hole in his chest where his SOUL should be. Just like... ha. With Frisk. With Chara in the bad timelines. Feeling something when he shouldn't be. Going against the script, breaking all logic.]
C... Chara.
[It's hoarse, strained from all the screaming, the crying. Just... pure exhaustion is washing over him now, the vines starting to recede. His fur is a mess and his neck still sputters a bit of dust from where he'd damaged himself, but he's starting to feel more like... himself.]
It's...?
I'm so sorr...
[He falls back over.]
[action]
But it's... it's okay. He's just... worn out. Not fading, just tired. There's dust around the collar of his shirt, and it makes their throat constrict and the empty space where a heart should be lurch violently, flutter like a startled bird, but... he's... he's still here.
They... wonder if they should get Toriel. Or someone who can heal. But sleep... it heals too, right? Frisk curled up in their new bed back in Home, and even if it usually wasn't long until Chara prodded them awake with Asgore's voice, that restored them. Same with the MTT Resort. Snowdin would even heal them past their maximum HP. So... it should help Asriel too, shouldn't it?
...It's dark in here, so they fumble a bit, but the closets aren't hard to find. A blanket and pillow. Don't want to touch him. Drape the blanket over him, lay the pillow nearby. Ask the closet for a stuffed toy, an imitation of the ones that decorate the room they share with Frisk. A clone of the ones that used to be Asriel's.
(* Dusty toys.
They swallow down a lump that rises in their throat.)
Back pocket - no, their inventory. A chocolate bar. Kind of melty from their body heat. It's summer.
A memory intruding into their head, forcing its way in like an unwanted houseguest. Their first time tasting chocolate in Wonderland. Their first time tasting since the buttercups. Remembering his laughter that they'd hoard chocolate even if it meant it got melty. Remembering telling him they'd always share with him. Best friends forever.
Giggles. Promises not to tell Mom. Chocolate right before dinner, making a sticky melty mess of his fur!
They stamp it out. Cut the memory out of their mind. Don't want to fuss with melted chocolate. Just... just leave him the whole rest of the bar.]
Asriel.
[Not sure if he's totally out. Try anyways.]
If you're still sore in the morning, please tell Toriel. She'll heal you. You... you can say you scratched yourself falling out of a tree.
[Still don't know what happened, but they have a thousand excuses to explain away where injuries come from.]
...I'll... give you space. I'll. Um. I'll... be in the hall. Outside. If you need me to get someone, then just... just shout.
[Probably wouldn't rest easy with them in the room. Dusty hands and an empty smile and please don't kill me. They're not above consequences. They won't forget.]