They know what panic looks like. They might not have had a word for it, naturally, because who would bother and who would care? Stop being so dramatic, Chara. Get up. Just having another one of your freak-outs, one of your stupid fits. Just having a tantrum, starving for everyone's valuable time and attention like a squalling infant.
It's easier when it's their own life, their own lungs. They can twist themself into shape, and they know how to recognize the needles behind their eyelids, the prickling heat in their fingertips. One-two, that's the count of a heartbeat, and one-two, that's the count of knuckles against the headboard. Easy. Even. Rinse the blood away after, and no one has to know.
They kneel until they're at eye-level, across from them, locking their gaze with Frisk's, vibrant and unblinking.
"Breathe. Slowly."
They don't smile. Not this time. Keep their eyes trained on Frisk, and keep their words quiet.
"Think of ice," they say. And it's - it's utterly stupid, isn't it? It's a stupid thing they invented, a stupid thing to say when their body's acting stupid like this, but they can't think of anything else to say and they've already done and settled themself down like this, all ready to make things better even if, hah, they're the person that breaks them irreparably, and anyone who says otherwise can just look at their track record.
But still. They've broken another person in their wake because they couldn't be kind enough, unsurprisingly, and the least they can do is - mitigate the damage. If they can.
"Think of frozen waterfalls," Chara continues. "Have you ever seen one?"
cw self-harm and panic mentions
They know what panic looks like. They might not have had a word for it, naturally, because who would bother and who would care? Stop being so dramatic, Chara. Get up. Just having another one of your freak-outs, one of your stupid fits. Just having a tantrum, starving for everyone's valuable time and attention like a squalling infant.
It's easier when it's their own life, their own lungs. They can twist themself into shape, and they know how to recognize the needles behind their eyelids, the prickling heat in their fingertips. One-two, that's the count of a heartbeat, and one-two, that's the count of knuckles against the headboard. Easy. Even. Rinse the blood away after, and no one has to know.
They kneel until they're at eye-level, across from them, locking their gaze with Frisk's, vibrant and unblinking.
"Breathe. Slowly."
They don't smile. Not this time. Keep their eyes trained on Frisk, and keep their words quiet.
"Think of ice," they say. And it's - it's utterly stupid, isn't it? It's a stupid thing they invented, a stupid thing to say when their body's acting stupid like this, but they can't think of anything else to say and they've already done and settled themself down like this, all ready to make things better even if, hah, they're the person that breaks them irreparably, and anyone who says otherwise can just look at their track record.
But still. They've broken another person in their wake because they couldn't be kind enough, unsurprisingly, and the least they can do is - mitigate the damage. If they can.
"Think of frozen waterfalls," Chara continues. "Have you ever seen one?"