fulllifeconsequences

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Speak.

[Wow okay cool voicemail there Chara. Voice/text/video away to your heart's content.]

[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?

Pain. Ha. Flowers can't feel pain.]

LOAD failed. The file is corrupt.

I can't fix it. I c n't ix t.

Edited 2016-07-20 02:12 (UTC)

I'm here. It's okay now, Asriel. I'm here.

[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.]

It's...?

I'm so sorr...

[He falls back over.]

[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.]

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