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famed & framed
"There will be no prison which can hold our movement down."
The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar.
Yet, unlike most new crew arrivals, this one is in the middle of chaos.
Despite more recent events, the planet of Emiri is not as peaceful as it once was. Frederick Link is still missing, and the authorities of Emiri have yet to lift the interplanetary ban they have placed on all space crafts docked at the aerospace. The captains previous held a meeting asking crew for any and all information that might help them locate the Komai, a mysterious group determined to undermine Link'd Inc's work providing flourishing matches across the universe by causing random acts of violence and protest across the three main cities: Harashan, Avelle, and St. Murtel. These things have led to mass arrests as well as an unsettling atmosphere spreading across the planet, and since a previous broadcast, things are beginning to escalate.
A downward spiral of these events begins as soon as new arrivals start to leave the Ingress—an unmarked box arrives in the cargo bay addressed to the inhabitants of the Moira. As per his job, Niko Bellic is the one to discover this box and open it. For some, the contents may be particularly gruesome. Link’s body is inside, clothed in a simple white button-down and pants (no shoes), and it looks as if letters have begun to bleed through the material. Anyone with expert knowledge of torture may note that Link was, in fact, tortured for information, and those letters? The writing itself spells out the name St. Murtel.
The captains, having been alerted of this, make an attempt to contact those at Link’d Inc. Unfortunately, the damage has already been done.
☄ First: MISCOMMUNICATIONSomehow, whether intentional or not, the Komai have once again hacked public systems and networks to brand those of the Moira as the ones behind these terroristic acts. They still use their own name, but the images are different, focusing on familiar faces wearing the ship’s uniforms and traveling to the Aerospace to return to the Moira. Not only that, there are short recordings of Link’s final words that mention a very recognizable name: Captain Thán. The Komai have redirected the blame to the Moira and its crew for their own means, and in response, any and all crew who are captured by authorities will immediately be detained and shipped out to unknown locations. The Captains send a message via MID and request everyone return to the ship to prevent this from happening. Yet, not all messages will be delivered depending on how far away they are.
With everyone’s safety hanging in the balance, the Captains have decided to take things into their own hands and find a way to lift the block on the Moira so they can leave Emiri’s orbit and avoid further repercussions regardless of whether or not any one of the crew wants to stay.
☄ Second: DECOY & DISTRACT After learning that Benjamin Link, son of recently deceased Frederick Link, knows how to unlock the ship so they can leave, the captains ask for volunteers to act as decoys on a mission to the Aerospace in Harashan. Their job is to distract guards and Emiri citizens, leaving the path clear for Benjamin to get to the computers. The captains reiterate that they are to use nonfatal methods as they don’t want a repeat of the events on Caducus Primary. Without his help, the ship won’t be able to leave, making this mission critical and extremely time sensitive. ☄ Third: RESCUEDuring the mission, Benjamin informs the crew that the Komai aren’t incorrect in their claims that Link’d Inc uses unforgivable means to obtain information in order to make their matches perfect. The children the crew dreamed about are just two of many—the offspring of Emirian citizens who had gone missing. It has long been suspected that Link’d Inc was involved in their disappearances, but only recently has the Komai done anything to shed light on these gruesome rumors. Benjamin, after successfully unlocking the ship, disables the security systems in St. Murtel, which will allow the children a chance to escape. They’ll need assistance in getting out of St. Murtel and to a pre-designated area in Avelle where a group of Komai and Emirians will be waiting for them.
But be careful. If anyone is recognized as part of the crew, they will be placed under arrest for treason and possibly never heard from again. ☄ Fourth: BREAKING OUTNow that the computer systems in Harashan’s Aerospace have been used to release the Moira, the entire crew are being called back via MID for an expedient exit from Emiri. Crew will be asked to assist other Moirans in getting back to the ship as quickly as possible via transporters or other small crafts as leaving is their only option at this point. In the escape, Emiri launches an attack on the Moira in an attempt to stop them. The ship’s previously unused defense systems activate, and those assigned to those positions are required to man their posts. Perhaps even those who don’t have the clearance are needed. Either way, it’s time to leave. ☄ Fifth: REFUGEESNow that the ship has finally escaped Emiri’s orbit, the crew will notice a group of stragglers in the main hall. During the crew’s quick exit, about fifty Emirians have taken refuge aboard the Moira, and the captains have agreed to take them to the closest planet so they may start again or live a life free of Link’d Inc “rule”. The captains ask the crew to help get them clothes and food for their short stay, no longer than a day at most, and to occupy them as best they can. Tell jokes, sing songs, bring up the kittens so that everyone can attempt to wind down after this series of unfortunate events. Light entertainment won’t be provided, but on request, some crew members may do just that.
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-02-01 11:09 am
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(Not that they ever felt his dust hadn't stained their soul. It was just like Flowey said--he wouldn't be dead if not for their help.)
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They continue more quietly, glaring off to one side. "I was going to leave. ...Tried." They make to continue but stop, because bidding for innocence at that point would be outright insulting.
This is stupid. Who was Frisk to just sweep in and act like they still had a say in Chara's life? They should go back to that dark little mind-corner where Chara had shoved them them, back when that bloodthirsty euphoria had flown them into laughter like the demon child that they were and dust was flying so constantly they were getting allergies. It'd been for Frisk's own protection, but also so they'd shut the hell up.
Frisk wasn't shutting up. Chara's head hung further, hiding how their glare tightened.
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It hurts. Seeing Chara like this, knowing what they'd tried to do...nothing made sense with what they remembered, especially the way the skeletons still cast Frisk those nervous looks when they thought the human wasn't looking. At least Asriel still remembered, still understood, but...
"...I don't understand." Frisk slowly slides down to the floor, their legs folding beneath them in a pathetic heap. Tears start to blind their vision, but they don't have the energy to try and blink them away. "This isn't...it's not like you..."
With a sniffle they finally look up at their friend, their sibling, the only one who ever understood. "Wh-what did I do? What did I forget?" How can they fix what went wrong?
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Chara scoots back into the bed's slight alcove into the wall, putting their back to the head of the bed and drawing their knees up to their chin.
"You didn't do anything." That's part of the problem, but it's not all of it. "Forget it. 't Doesn' have anything to do with you." They're telling this to their knees, and by the time they're done they've quieted to a mumble.
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A few tears roll down their cheeks, and Frisk bows their head. "I don't know what's going on anymore. I-I don't get it."
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"No, um. Sorry. You've got it wrong. They do too." A realization sinks in, and their skin crawls. They snap their head back to their knees, but now they're picking uneasily at a thread at their cuff. It's as though they're resisting some magnetic pull of their eyes when they keep from looking at Frisk, and they tilt their head and grimace.
"You didn't do anything. It was all me." A beat, and they add, "Guess they can't tell the difference when we're, uh... you know..."
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"You...you took over?"
It's so rare that Chara shoves them aside in their shared body, usually content to offer hints and snide commentary from within their mind. They hadn't done it at all in recent timelines, actually--it's been a long time since Frisk got scared enough to freeze up completely.
"Why did you hurt them?"
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It's not one they can give. Does Frisk even know the full extent of what they did? Probably not, or they'd be asking what made you turn into a total psychopath maniac, Chara thinks, closing their mouth again. Answering is like being asked to cut out the chunk of flesh that a wound is attached to and hold it up for inspection.
They bow their head a little more, shaking it slightly. They feel locked in place, like they can't tear away from that stupid thread. Stupid. Worthless, too, but what else is new.
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Frisk's head knocks against the bars with a soft thunk, and tears drip down off their face onto the floor. They don't know what to say anymore, or if they should say anything at all. It's pretty obvious Chara doesn't want Frisk around anymore, but they can't bring themself to leave. They've never been good at letting go.
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Chara grits their teeth and looks further away from them, and it's like the words are teeth that weren't ready to be pulled out yet.
"Look, I just did, ok? I had t--... It... ... ... it was like I had...."
They run out, and their termite little sins are crawling up and down their neck and face, and their face is hot and they're full to the brim with shame and hate. They hated those monsters. They hated the underground. They hated themself.
They have nowhere to put it all except to fill themselves like a silo, so they leave everything as is. Their fingers have stopped picking, and their shoulders are tense enough to hold a bridge.
"Everyone's awful," they whisper. It answers nothing and everything.
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They don't need to elaborate for Frisk to understand. That miserable pressure in their head, that strange drive...Frisk remembers it all too clearly. How many times had they swung at Toriel themself, before reason reasserted itself? How many times had they nearly killed the poor monsters in the Ruins?
"Chara..." Frisk sniffles, rubbing at their nose before offering their hand out through the bars. They know Chara won't accept excuses, or reassurances that they can make it better. Both of them know very well even a RESET doesn't erase what has been done. But together...they can at least make sure the future is a better one. Right?
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Frisk. Doesn't understand, still.
It's a hate-worthy offense. Chara does hate them, because they're not listening, and Chara is trying to curl around the fact that it means Frisk doesn't care about everything Chara's done, and that that means they're evil, evil, and worse than evil.
The thoughts won't burn them. Maybe it's because Frisk doesn't know the true depth of Chara's depravity in the first place, or maybe it's because the thoughts need a bit of time to heat up before they can really boil against them. It's true that Chara can't do more than picture a caricatureish parody of Frisk dismissing something like death, but. Maybe Frisk will give them adequate inspiration for that, soon.
They can't bring themself to strike that final blow to their image. It'll shatter like a mirror when they do, and Frisk's face will crumple and Chara's sins will follow them for seven years for that alone, but... Chara's mouth is open, yet their tongue is numb. Words won't come.
...
... They don't have to do this right now. They don't. There's always plenty of time for it later. There's something despicably selfish about letting Frisk keep loving someone who hurt them so deeply, but Chara just can't not refuse to prevent themself denying they didn't--
--their gaze has dropped to the floor like it weighs a thousand pounds, and Chara ghosts away from their bed. Not meekly. Quietly. Empty like a scarecrow.
They sit down by the bars, and their gaze just barely rises to the edges of Frisk's fingertips. Chara is sitting very straight. The rigidity of their position is like diamond. If anyone were to force them to move, they'd impact against Chara like the side of a mountain, or Chara themself would crack.
...
... Apparently they're a hideous enough person that they'll let Frisk reach out unanswered. And they're doing this. Every step that they've done. They look back at the floor between them and the bunk.
The silence they've brought fills their ears.
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Frisk pulls their hand back for a moment when Chara moves closer, and they frown at that stiff posture, the way their whole body screams that they don't deserve this kindness. Slowly, carefully, so very aware of that fragile tension wrapped around Chara's being, Frisk reaches to just barely brush their fingers against Chara's knee before letting their hand fall to their side.
It's selfish, they know. Selfish and callous and they should hate Chara right now but Frisk just can't find any malice in their heart. Not knowing what they do, how twisted up Chara is inside already. What could they say that Chara isn't already heaping on themself is spades?
The silence stretches on for several more moments before Frisk finally finds words for the thoughts roiling in their head. "You're...you're not horrible for messing up. Okay? You can still...you're only bad if you stop caring." They try to smile, but there's something missing from it. "An' I know you always care so much."
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"You don't know me," they snarl. "You don't--know anything, where do you--get off saying--"
Words are failing them. They're struggling, and they want to punch Frisk right in the teeth. The other fist could reach their hair and yank like they're starting an outboard motor and bring Frisk's face right into the bars and then they'd be in reach and it'd be over and Chara stumbles to their feet, world turning around them like they're drunk.
They stagger back to the bunk and curl up in a ball that's nothing so much as it is coiled rage and gnashing teeth, and they hate Frisk, they hate them, they hate them they hate them--
They muffle their face against their arms and knees, and heave a breath into their lungs, and it feels like the resulting shriek is a wedge being driven into their own ears. They can't stop shaking, and they're not really aware of the way their hands are digging vicious claws against the thick cloth of their uniform pants.
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"I--I--" They barely even have a chance to respond before Chara storms away, staring in horrified confusion. Even if the bars hadn't been in the way, their own racing mind would have prevented them running over to try and comfort Chara--it's all too much at once, too much different from what had been, what Frisk knew. What they had assumed would always be.
Frisk's hands are on the bars again, trembling, but they can't speak. They can't act. All they can think in a distant, hysterical part of their mind is that Toriel would know what to do if she were here.
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Chara keeps their head down, rocking until the raggedness of their breath is quieter, and the trembling has slowed. They hate how everything is different when Frisk is around, and they especially hate how if they weren't so furious, this horrible feeling in their chest would feel like tears. They're upset. They've gotten all worked up over some bullshit innocent reassurance that Frisk probably couldn't help but give, and now they've gone and hurt them just by being themself, and they still can't unclench their jaws.
They think over Frisk's words and press their face harder into their arms. There's nothing offensive about them at all. They're sweet. Misguided.
They're not going to uncurl from the ball while Frisk is still here. They plan to wait, and maybe not even move for a long while after they've left.
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It's a long time before Frisk finally finds the strength to stand again, though their legs are shaky and their breathing funny. They don't want to leave, but Chara could not make it any more clear that they don't want anything to do with Frisk right now. Still, Frisk lingers for a few more moments before turning to silently make their way back out of the hold, trying and failing to hold their sniffles back until they're well enough away.
---
It's well after lights out when Frisk comes back again, much more timid in their approach this time and carrying a peace offering in their pocket. It's only one bar, and it's definitely not the right brand, but god bless whoever it was that decided the ship needed s'mores supplies at some point previous.
Frisk pauses a few feet away from the cell bars, swallowing and considering just leaving the chocolate at the edge of the cell for Chara, but finally the speak up in that hushed tone when you're not sure someone is asleep, but you still need to talk to them.
"Chara? I...can we talk? Please?"
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One might say they were scowling, except there's nothing behind the look but sleep. No--it's a squint.
"Frisk?" Chara turns their way and mumbles something that might be some sort of inquiry.
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Frisk looks uneasy, fidgeting with their hands and their gaze darting around. Their guilt is written clear as day on their face. "I. I wanted to say sorry for before. I didn't wanna upset you like that."
They take a few steps forward, and pull out the bar of chocolate to hold out through the bars. "Um. I snuck this out of the kitchen for you."
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"No. Um. You really didn't. Have to..."
They stand automatically, going to the front of the cell. The bar is rectangular, and even as their mouth waters they stare as though uncomprehending. "You... uh, wow. Thanks." The weight of it when they take it is familiar, even if the brand is not.
They blink at it. Then they blink at the hallway, looking lost.
"... Do you want some?"
No. They want to offer, and it's uncomfortable to push through the stupor into making decisions at all, but this isn't how Frisk will take it. Chara shucks off the candy's foil and breaks the bar neatly in half, already pressing one in Frisk's direction.
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The offer takes Frisk off their guard, and they blink in confusion. "Huh? You don't have to..."
But Chara has already started opening it, and Frisk just huffs out a soft breath before accepting their half. Even now, Chara's still trying so hard to take care of them, huh? "It's supposed to all be for you, silly."
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Then the pick back up again, staring at the ground with an odd sort of sorrow. Flavors, memories--they'd experienced them when they'd been with Frisk, but some part of them is insisting that it's different now. They're alone. All this flavor is reserved for them.
Frisk is still here with them for it.
Their voice is a little rough from the chocolate. "Hey, um." They swallow, then briefly meet Frisk's gaze.
"... Thanks."
They give them a small, grateful smile, and their face must have creaked from the newness of it. Maybe they should smile more. Maybe not.
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For a moment, they're surprised that Chara doesn't have an immediate response for the thought. It's so strange, not having their friend inside their mind.
That smile, though...Frisk blinks in surprise before they beam right back, a warmth welling up from deep inside. Determination fills them up, deep in their bones; Chara should be smiling like this all the time, and they want to make sure that can happen. "You're welcome! 'M glad you like it."
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Chara's eyes slide off to the side. "Hey, Frisk." There's something they need to say, and now's the best time for it. They're calm and not about to melt down or scream at anyone. How often does this happen?
"Um." They hold on to their lingering mood, but can't help but feel that it's being too dismissive. They let it go a little more, concentrating on sounding sincere. "I'm really sorry about earlier." More solemnity. "That was... I went a little nuts, there, I guess." Ha ha. 'Nuts', like some slapstick cartoon. They made Frisk cry, and it's the most unfunny thing they can think of.
"I shouldn't have..."
It's been an entire progression, and by now they're looking down.
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"It's okay. I know you get upset sometimes." For all that Chara tends to drop the subject quickly, they've heard the start of enough stories to know how their friend can be. It was just...jarring, to suddenly see that for themself. "I'm not mad."
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