fulllifeconsequences

[It doesn't sting. They don't care. They don't care so hard that the flinching that's happening is obviously all just a mysterious optical illusion. You'd think they'd be used to it, just as used as Frisk, but some things just don't die easily.]

No. I skipped around the halls for several hours until I collapsed of blood loss.

[Of course they came straight here, idiot.]

This is the only place that's safe. Where else would I go looking like this?

That's not what I meant.

[The cut's in too awkward a place for a band-aid, but Frisk can't keep sponging away the blood even if the flow has begun to slow.]

The - the person you - [They don't finish the sentence, but they don't think they need to.] If he was human, he didn't just... [You know. Poof.]

Ashes to ashes? No. Not quite.

I just left him there. Didn't know how people coming back works here. Can you imagine burying him and having him wake up again? Condemned to die suffocating and alone deep under the ground?

[All right, that...that makes sense. Frisk nods shakily, their hands trembling subtly as they tape a bandage somewhat clumsily over the laceration.]

I think it's supposed to be...proportional to how many times you've died. [It's hard to talk about it. They take a breath, close their eyes, keep going.] If it was the first time, it'd take one day. I don't know what happens after five. [They're not sure if anyone does.]

[They hold still for Frisk, at least. That cut is plenty close to their eye, and they don't wanna give those jittery hands an invitation to miss.]

So it can't be the same body, then. After five days, that'd be way too gross.

Huh. Guess I'd better go shove his body under a bush or something.

[Funny jokes will surely make it easier to talk about, right Frisk? Chara's having a blast talking about it, anyway. And now that they've got one more bandage equipped, they pick up where they left off: they stop to grab a knife -- Alex's, that one's less messy -- and then neatly turn to get out of here. Away from Frisk and their stupid probing.

Oh. But. Eh, they've probably guessed by now anyway, since Chara's still just as horrible as they've always been, but:]

No SOUL showed up. I guess you were right about that part.

[Frisk's hands drop to their sides, slack and disappointed. They don't want to turn this into another battle for who can SAVE over whoever's chosen path.]

You're sure he was human, or monster?

[They step forward, slowly. Not blocking the way, not following. Not yet.]

Maybe he was a demon too. Who knows?

[They wipe the knife off on their sleeve. Let's be real, that sleeve's gonna be a stained mess anyway.]

If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to tempt me to target something I knew was a human or monster. Just to be sure.

I'm still figuring out how things work here either, remember?

[And they hate the feeling that this entire episode has led them into, like everything's spinning hopelessly out of their control. They're not used to not being able to dictate their own path anymore. Being like this, two separate entities - it's harder.]

You don't have to do this.

[So cliché. Like they haven't said this a million times before.]

Don't I?

[Over and over and over again. Everything in their life adheres to that phrase: over and over. On the surface. Underground. In Asriel's body. In Frisk's. In their own. Things always end the same. They were set on these tired old rails the moment they were called to this world. They just. Don't care anymore. Too late to say sorry. Always was.

What's the alternative, anyway? A fruit basket and a nice "sorry for stabbing you" card? Looking very sorry and trying to explain they were attacked, not the other way around? If Frisk, a being made of excuses and pacifism and free passes, thinks they're the one to blame, then who in all of Wonderland would?

They step to the door. Better things to do, or something like that.]

No. You don't.

[Another step. Still achingly slow.]

He has friends, right? People who care about him. They'll find him, and they can help him. You don't have to get involved.

[Not anymore than they already have by killing him.]

Help him? Frisk, he's kind of dead. I don't know what you think I could do to him now that would leave him any worse off.

Don't bury him.

[Presuming people wake up in the same body, that sounds rough.]

And be careful. You - you don't know who else might be looking for you now.

Yeah, Asgore didn't really care for burial either. Guess I'd better start building a coffin.

[Be careful, they say. Like they're worried. Things just never stop being funny around here. No wonder Chara's always laughing and smiling; life's just nonstop delights.

They think about slamming the door on the way out, but they don't.]

[Har. Har. Frisk isn't laughing. They watch Chara go, and wait for a moment before hastening to the window.

Time to lowkey keep some tabs on them in case they think about killing anyone else.

Yayy.]

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