the littlest edgelord (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inconsequence) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-11-25 08:52 pm
inconsequence) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-11-25 08:52 pm
points to spinal chord on brain diagram [open]
Who: Chara and YOU
When: 11/23 - 11/24
Where: Literally all around Avagi this child is wandering in a disoriented post-fight daze
What: Chara fought in a trial. Chara got a prize. No one is happy with this.
Warnings: Emotional distress probable, in addition to the usual Chara warnings.
The temples began to sing.
They emerged bloodied and ragged along the edges, one hand clasped around the rust-brown stains fringing every tear in their clothing. One side of their hair has become uneven where a hank of it was roughly and sloppily cut away mid-combat. They limp. Their eyes are glazed with hunger, with emptiness, with exhaustion. Their motions are stiff and automatic. Whenever someone draws near to them, they flinch and hold ready, a blade of red steel gleaming in their hand. A smile tears over their features in a blaze of forced and painted-on glee.
They emerged from the Trial of Life victorious, in a manner of speaking - in a very loose manner of speaking. They emerged from the Trial of Life, having not died or fled, and thus are eligible for something of a prize.
That is when the temples began to sing.
They ignite with a soft blue glow, ethereal, illuminating their surroundings in a cool sweep of runic light. The light takes root inside them, nestling like a seed in the center of their chest; not patience-blue, not integrity-blue, and certainly not determination-red, but something else entirely. It aches in solemn acknowledgment of itself. The child's eyes squeeze shut. The blood has begun to hammer in their ears anew, as if rejuvenated enough to feel like it ought to redouble its efforts to spill out from their torn veins.
The hum pressing across their ears has begun to vibrate in their bones.
As they cross through the portal's bridge of light back to Avagi, the whispers and fragments of other people's thoughts begin to trail after them, silver-tinted specters of other people's thoughts.
When: 11/23 - 11/24
Where: Literally all around Avagi this child is wandering in a disoriented post-fight daze
What: Chara fought in a trial. Chara got a prize. No one is happy with this.
Warnings: Emotional distress probable, in addition to the usual Chara warnings.
The temples began to sing.
They emerged bloodied and ragged along the edges, one hand clasped around the rust-brown stains fringing every tear in their clothing. One side of their hair has become uneven where a hank of it was roughly and sloppily cut away mid-combat. They limp. Their eyes are glazed with hunger, with emptiness, with exhaustion. Their motions are stiff and automatic. Whenever someone draws near to them, they flinch and hold ready, a blade of red steel gleaming in their hand. A smile tears over their features in a blaze of forced and painted-on glee.
They emerged from the Trial of Life victorious, in a manner of speaking - in a very loose manner of speaking. They emerged from the Trial of Life, having not died or fled, and thus are eligible for something of a prize.
That is when the temples began to sing.
They ignite with a soft blue glow, ethereal, illuminating their surroundings in a cool sweep of runic light. The light takes root inside them, nestling like a seed in the center of their chest; not patience-blue, not integrity-blue, and certainly not determination-red, but something else entirely. It aches in solemn acknowledgment of itself. The child's eyes squeeze shut. The blood has begun to hammer in their ears anew, as if rejuvenated enough to feel like it ought to redouble its efforts to spill out from their torn veins.
The hum pressing across their ears has begun to vibrate in their bones.
As they cross through the portal's bridge of light back to Avagi, the whispers and fragments of other people's thoughts begin to trail after them, silver-tinted specters of other people's thoughts.
[Chara scored the empathy reward for their participation in the Trial of Life, meaning that, to quote the info post: others stay inside their body, but gain a sense of those around them. This manifests not as telepathic knowledge of their thoughts, but an empathic resonance—ghost-vision showing their emotions in stark clarity.]
[This more or less gives them the ability to know and feel anything your character is experiencing emotionally so that's you know fantastic. Feel free to tag in with prose or brackets; I'll match you! Let me know here or over atarrpee if you want a closed starter or something more specific!]
no subject
[And he's never fine when he writes it off like that. But now, he's just going to lean against the wall. Sitting cross-legged as if it were the most natural position in the world. Every ounce of him doing his best to feel calm. To feel at ease. If they can feel what he feels, it's bound to help somehow, isn't it?]
Because maybe it'll help one of us. Eventually. [He quiets for a few breaths.] I'm not going to stop you from walking away, Chara.
If you want to, I won't stop you.
[They know that. Don't they?]
no subject
[Stay. Or leave.]
[Their smile is too skewed to belong to them.]
I'm interfering with what I'm assuming is the weekly allotment of four hours you allow yourself.
no subject
[He will absolutely not put his own mishap on anyone else's shoulders. Much less Chara's. They'd just happened to be here. He'd wandered down this hall. Noting purposeful on anyone's part.]
[A shrug.]
Chara -- I mean it. [And he does. As much as he means space is huge, or any other undeniable fact.] You don't have to stay, and you don't have to go.
It's up to you.
[Do you want me to stop? Do you want to be left alone?]
no subject
[And they know that he means it.]
[That's the worst part of it. Adults aren't supposed to offer you choices. They aren't supposed to make you feel - this. Like there are no strings, no emotional ties, no consequences. They aren't supposed to reward you for being like this.]
They've expected him to wake up and see them for what they really are for months now. For months.]
[Is that day simply never coming?]
I cannot understand these feelings anymore.
But you really ought to be getting on.
no subject
[Not if he knows himself like he does. It takes a lot for him to change his mind -- about people. About individuals. Keith comes to mind again -- the way he'd looked when he'd been assured everything was all right. That nothing had changed between them.]
[Chara's situation is probably wildly different.]
[But he's still here for them.]
Probably. If I could stand up.
no subject
[That's...easier. It's easier to focus on that instead of what he just said because what he just said, and the fact that they can't deny it, either.]
[Nothing, it seems, will convince him.]
...stand. [The question of whether it's even possible for him to change his mind, they suspect, already has an answer.]
no subject
My legs are paralyzed. And a gravity well has opened under me. I'm stuck.
[This is, probably, the ultimate Dad Humor. He says it in the most deadpan voice he can muster up. Expression just as serious.]
[Like it's the truth, even if inside, he's laughing lightly. He can totally move. As much as it seems like an impossible task physically.]
no subject
[...no. No, he does not. It's a joke. The bubble of laughter running beneath the words gives him away. How he can manage to make such a - such a lighthearted and earnest effort after everything is...]
[It takes them a significantly longer time to answer than it should.]
In that case, I suppose there is no plausible way you could prevent me from going through any personal belongings you may be keeping in your room.
no subject
[Their suggestion, however, makes that subconscious laugh just plain pop out. It's low and ragged in his throat. But genuine all the same.]
You could. If... you like looking at clothes.
[The insinuation he actually has personal effects... that's somehow hilarious. Aside from the dreaded "SPACE HO" crop-top he's still holding onto.]
no subject
[There is no itching powder on Avagi, nor are they certain that it would be worth wasting it all here. But it's the principle of the thing. The thought that counts. Etc.]
Or bedsheets.
no subject
[His expression could not have been drier if it was made in the Sahara Desert.]
Why?
no subject
[Do you believe they're evil now, sir? Do you.]
Maybe I just like to generate the continued suffering of others, simply because I enjoy watching what chaos I may bring. [There; that's a reasonable return to their typical demeanor.]
no subject
[No. No he doesn't. Not even a little bit. There's exasperation, sure. But no more than he'd feel for any of the others on his team, in the event they did something ridiculous.]
[Because that's what a child would say.]
Maybe I'm immune to itching powder.
no subject
[There are multiple perspectives that must really be taken into account here. Childishness and cruelty are not mutually exclusive, after all, and never particularly have been. They'd know.]
That is not what I'd call the reaction of a man who is.
no subject
Nah, it's not.
[He's heard worse. He's heard hundreds of voices all calling for something worse than just powder pranks. Maybe he's seeing this in a different light than they are. But he still can't judge.]
[He still won't judge.]
It's the reaction of a man judging whether or not sleeping against a wall is a good use of his time.
no subject
[Talking to them is like talking to a brick wall anyway, right? EYOOO.]
[Granted, they don't exactly know where he lives, and at this rate, wandering through Avagi in search of a place they don't know while everyone else's emotions are still bumping up against their skull sounds like a deeply uncomfortable exercise. Maybe they won't.]
[...yes. On second thought, maybe they won't.]
no subject
[Chara, no.]
[They're making some kind of joke here, that much he can understand. And appreciate. But do they really think they're no better than a wall? Come on now, Chara, what part of your association with this tired man makes you think he'll just accept that.]
[... on second thought, this wall is actually getting a little comfortable.]
no subject
Never mind.
[The effort of explaining the joke wouldn't be worth the payoff, particularly considering that, given the fact that he's practically at their height at this point, it would likely go right over his head.]
Enjoy your wall.
no subject
[He's quiet for a little while, his eyes closed. If it weren't for the thoughts banging around in his head, he may have dozed off.]
[ut of course, he's going to add:]
Probably goes without saying. But if you need a hand with ... whatever's happening to you...
You can call.
no subject
[They know without question that he's speaking truly. It's unavoidable, at this point. And perhaps that's what makes it so very hard to turn away and let go.]
[But it's easy - to let go of that which you never held onto in the first place.]