the smile on my face is just a lie [open + closed]

[inconsequence]

Who: Chara, Chara's Shadow, some closed starters, and Y O U
When: July 9th - July 21st
Where: All over? All over.
What: You're really kind of a freak, huh?
Warnings: Chara. Suicide ideation and extreme self-hatred are probable. Further warnings will be noted.


[* Ha ha ha...

* You're not really human, are you?

* No.

* You're empty inside.

* Just like me.]

Comments

closed to ASRIEL; you're gone, so long, that's fine with me

[inconsequence]

[It crawls through the dark, the murk. Eyes flick open, cast in ink-black. Everything from the tips of their hair to the warm pink tint to their cheeks is precisely as it should be, perfectly aligned. A shade or two paler, more muted in color, perhaps, as though they've been cast in a slightly washed-out palette, but a perfect replica besides.

The house is still and quiet, and they should hope it would be empty. No access to the TAB their real self possesses, but that is of little consequence.

So they keep it simple. A knock on the door.

Open up, Asriel.

Your best friend is here.]

[pleasereset]

Coming!

[A muffled, high-pitch voice echoes from beyond the door. And within a few seconds, a fuzzy white face with a large, pinkish scar peeks through the crack in the door. It's Chara...?

Why are they knocking? Is it for a joke?

Asriel pushes the door open.]

Oh, howdy Chara- [His eyes widen a little when he sees their face. Black eyes...] - are you OK?! What happened to your eyes?

[inconsequence]

[And there he is! Their very best friend. Complete and earnest and a little worse for wear, but when isn't he? He died! He died and had to get back up again! What a shame for everyone involved!

They smile, wider. And wider still.

No, wider.]

I got in a fight.

[They mime a right hook across their face. Now they have a black eye. Get it?]

closed to METTATON; and you don't even understand the things i feel or who i am

[inconsequence]

[They're turning Asriel's TAB over and over in their hands, once they're done with him. They've plenty of time before the cavalry arrives, to make everything so much worse than it needs to be. Plenty of time to call for help.

A pity it would come too late, but alas - we can't have everything. Can we?

A message pings Mettaton's TAB, sent from Asriel.]

Mettaton? Are you there?

[And a moment later:]

Where am I...?

It's so cold here...and so dark...

[mttbrandlegs]

[Predictably, Mettaton answers immediately and with clear concern. For how much he knows Asriel, he's fooled easily when he's worried.]

I'M HERE, HONEY.

CAN YOU TELL ME ANY LANDMARKS? ANYTHING AT ALL? I KNOW IT IS DARK, BUT IF THERE'S ANY WAY

[He sends too hastily, and amends it.]

USE YOUR TAB!!! GIVE ME COORDINATES! I'LL FIND YOU!

[inconsequence]

* Someone help me...
* Anyone...please...
* Help me...

[If Asriel were here...oh, if Asriel were here! Perhaps he'd be laughing, too, in on the joke! After all, these are his words they're using. And then, only then, does Mettaton receive a set of coordinates. A little ways away from the house, in fact. In the garden.

Hurry, Mettaton. Won't you?]

closed to FRISK; the blade of a knife that cuts so deep

[inconsequence]

[Their eyes are black, and their smile is perfect. They will find who they're looking for, and they will learn, at long, long last, the truth behind all of it. Partner. Servant. Whatever lie you prefer.

Really, all they must do is wait. Tip their head back, and laugh. They're running fingertips across the belongings in the house, greedily, as if by clinging to them they might feel more real, more permanent.]

Well, Partner?

[The word is hardened with contempt as they turn, dark eyes scanning their surroundings.]

Don't keep me waiting.

[gainedlove]

[They know that voice.]

[Words coated in red, dripping with purpose and intent and promise. Words that came with the smell of dust and ominous silence ringing in their ears, the tense feeling of being ready, always ready--]

[No. No, this can't--that part didn't happen, it wasn't real. Their SOUL still beats, they didn't really see that ending--right?]
T h e n . . .  t h i s  i s  y o u r  f i n a l  a n s w e r .
[The back door creaks open, and a small voice calls out.]

Chara?

[inconsequence]

[They love Chara. They'll do anything for Chara. Anything at all. And now's when we learn how much they truly mean that sentiment. Whether it's for real, or all just another pretty lie draped in lace and sunlight. Like everything else.

Their eyes are black as pitch as they tip their head to one side, smiling.]

Hello, Partner.

closed to SHEPARD; but the wounds that you leave never heal

[inconsequence]

[They're searching for her, now. They will find her, and put an end to all of this - this charade, this pretense, this ACT that she in any way cares. They will lay it all bare and watch it crumble, watch it burn.

And then. Then they will know for certain. They will know.

They try for her apartment in the Ingress complex, first. Then the Normandy Securities, if they cannot find her there. The Knife's blade carves through the lock as easily as if it were butter, and the door is slammed open. They rifle through the files and paperwork with a bored disdain, tipping drawers over and leaving a mess in their wake.

Where oh where could that child be?]

LCDR Jane Shepard. [They're still smiling, ear to ear.] Where, oh where could you be?

[squadgoals]

[It's calming, cleaning guns.

Normandy Securities had been closed for the full 45 days of her detainment in the mediation centre — and now, with her picking up the pieces, just a little bit more.

It was going to take time, getting used to everything again. Who she was. Who she wasn't. Picking through the pieces, chipped and cracked parts of herself, and brushing them off, putting them back on the right shelves. For now, she could simply take care of the physical parts.

With an easy, practiced hand, she breaks the firearms down in front of her, separating out each piece carefully, examining it, checking the welding for cracks, oiling and cleaning parts. The motions are familiar, almost relaxing — it was hard to believe, sometimes, that she could gain peace from something so destructive.

The sound is distant, barely heard behind the propped-open conference room door. Shepard stops, replacing a frame on the towel-covered tabletop. Had it come from outside, or inside?

There's another sound, this time more distinct — a singing slice, and the sharp grind of metal on metal, followed by a resonating slam.

Inside. Or it was, now. Her heart picks up, adrenaline already dumping, as she re-assembles the weapon in front of her, working on autopilot. Had she always been this jumpy? Forcing herself to slow, focus, she draws each breath as she slips the pistol back together, fitting this to here, to here, to here...

The sounds increase, things knocked over, a crash. Who? Why? And why now, when the lights were actually on? It didn't matter. As much as she hated to do it, she'd have to turn her entrepreneurial thief over to the authorities.

Weapon in hand, she moves meticulously through the halls, taking advantage of cover where she can, making her way to the source of the noise — not that she even has to listen anymore. The small-scale destruction is enough of a path — and it leads, eerily, right to her office.

Why there? It wasn't as if she was in the habit of keeping anything beyond backup datapads in her files — she'd been down with the most valuable possessions Normandy had.

Unless they're here for something else.

The thought hits too late: she's already glimpsing that familiar sweater, frozen in place with shock when Chara turns around.

Why?]

Chara?

[inconsequence]

[* About time.

They hardly have to try at all to get her to freeze in place as though palsied. They can try, try, try, try, try to be something better than the thing that stranded her in prison for weeks at a time, but nothing they do, they say, will ever make up for it.

Now is hardly the time for the flash of accusatory hurt that threatens to well. It's time to smile, eyes empty and black.]

I was thinking of tendering my resignation!

[Which do you think serves a better message: trashing the place of employment, or the attempted murder of said employer?]

No need to look so surprised; did you not sacrifice everything for my sake?

closed to SHIRO; i don't need your sympathy

[inconsequence]

[The lion house is obvious, and always has been. What a shame it would be, if someone were to march up to the front door and sweetly inquire as to where they might find Takashi Shirogane! Don't mind the pitch-black eyes, now - they'll not do anyone any harm, as long as they encounter who it is they're looking for.

They're hammering on your house's front door, Shiro. Best not keep them waiting.]

[shiro2hero]

[Whoever answered the door, whoever came and got him, once he hears it's the weird kid from down the road, he's there. Wearing sweats instead of his usual outfit, hair damp. He'd come from the shower -- as quick as possible.]

Chara -- hey.

[He steps out onto the porch.] What's up? Is everything all right?

[inconsequence]

[Here we are!

The moment of enlightenment. The moment in which it all becomes painfully clear. They will cut to the case, because they are talented at cutting, if nothing else.]

Shiro.

[Make him say it. Make him say it. Their grin widens, eyes dark and hollow.]

How nice it is to finally meet you.

closed to LAVELLAN; i hide behind the lie that has become the new me - the real me

[inconsequence]

[Let me help you.

There is only one thing on this earth that can help them, and if he will not oblige then surely someone else will. They're on the hunt for him now, well and truly; Knife out and glistening scarlet, their smile polished and capped in crimson. They will laugh when they see him, inevitably.

Their eyes are black, giving away the nature of that which lies beneath their grin. But perhaps, now, they're not really hiding at all.]

I believe you extended an offer, sir; an offer of help.

rolls shoulders let's do this

[lavelly]

[Something's wrong.

Chara is unsettling at the best of times, but those are nothing compared to this. Something's wrong with their eyes, and the knife--

Whose blood is that?

Lavellan steps back without thinking, not to run but out of caution--a need to assess the situation and its dangers, though harming Chara is the last thing he wants--and his eyes narrow.]

What do you want, Chara?

something something highway to hell

[inconsequence]

[Golly, someone needs to listen when his name is called! Chara certainly got good at coming when they're called; obedient to the last, like the humble servant that they are.

Their head tips to one side, idly.]

Weren't you listening?

I want your help.

SHADOW FRISK + SHADOW CHARA; OPEN; i won't turn around, my mind is clear

[inconsequence]

[It's not a Partner, but it will do, in a pinch. They cut quite a pair, one's expression a razored smile with the other's a solemn and empty parody of the real thing. Blades in hand, they almost look at home.

The Shadow reaches out, smiling sweetly, to clasp the other child's hand. Two lovers standing on the edge of the cauldron to hell, and one way or another, should anyone encounter them - their LOVE will end in hell.

When they see someone, Chara will speak first, ever eloquent - calling for help, a keening, desperate cry:]

Help! Somebody, anybody!

Help!

[gainedlove]

[The Dagger feels comfortable in their hand. A borrowed weapon, but familiar and well worn to a hand as small as theirs. Dull eyes slide over to their mirror and a dusty hand winds into their clasp. An alliance of common goals and convenience, and one that will serve them both well.]

[Theatrics come far more naturally to the paler of the two, but they are just as capable of committing to the ACT. A shift of posture, head ducked and shoulders pulled in, and another voice calls out as well.]

Please...please, help!

OPEN TO ALL; can you do one last thing for me? put me out of my misery

[inconsequence]

[The child roaming the streets looks, for all intents and purposes, exactly like the Chara that people may or may not know. Everything is in order, neat and parceled away: their hair trimmed carefully, the lines of their clothing crisp and flat, their smile practically welded to their features. Even the charcoal-black pits of their eyes may as well be Chara's; they aren't such a far cry from crimson, are they?

They're starting with something simple: callous destruction. Overturning tables, breaking windows. Ripping up flowers. Petty theft of something on your person, perhaps, only for the child to let it drop limply to the floor a moment later, having grown rapidly disinterested with their spoils.

You're free to apprehend them, if you will. But they're making no secret of the red blade of the Knife they carry, and that smile stretches the boundaries of what should fit on a human face.

But what do you have to fear from a simple child?]

surprise motherfucker

[lavelly]

[It waits until Chara is walking alone to approach; outside, in the open. It melts out of a nearby shadow and sidles along, matching their pace as if it had always been there. As if it and Chara were old friends.

Maybe Chara senses the approach and maybe they don't, but when they look up at it it rictus-grins back down at them, its expression a void to match its eyes.

Its voice is cheery as can be.]

Chara! How are you.

what up gamers stu here

[inconsequence]

[It's not often that someone can claim to have startled them - at least, not in such an obvious sense. They attempt to correct the tension in their shoulders immediately, and largely fail; it's apparent that its abrupt appearance startled them, pulling their irises wide, disrupting the attentive set to their gaze.

There's a world of difference between the sad, overly grabby man they remember and the one that approaches them now, smiling wider than anyone should. They're the only one who should ever be smiling like that.

Their hand falls to the hilt of their Knife, a movement they don't bother to conceal, as they step back at once.]

Lavellan.

[It's slow and cautious, pulled out several syllables past its termination.]

closed to J; you hurt me but i won't complain

[inconsequence]

[They find her in R1. The chill of the Ingress's shutdown permeates the surrounding area no longer, but the streets are not as packed with the same throng they would typically. It seems the civilians are taking their time reasserting themselves.

The reduced population makes it easier, far easier, to pick out the silhouette they're looking for. Aside from the beetle-black eyes, they look the same as ever - smiling, smiling, as readily as ever.

But the Knife drawn and held steady at their side speaks of far darker intentions.]

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[Ever since the shadow clone people began to pop out it had become quite a gamble to go down on the planet. Who knows just who -- or what you will run into? But in the end the refrigerator doesn't fill itself, especially when thinking about Shepard's current state, and J isn't one to stay holed up in the apartment. This was nothing compared to the fear of Rinzler she had once felt and she had been able to overcome that too.

With a comfortable amount of money in her pockets she walks down the streets of region one, doing more of a window shopping rather than anything else. But then she spots a familiar small figure lurking ahead of her. The smile is creepy and unsettling like always but it's the eyes that reveals the child's true identity.

Crap.]

Having fun?