Mm. [She tests each limb.] Everything's responding normally, but...
[She trails off, grunting as she tries to wiggle. Move up or down and— ahaha, there's a sensation like slipping, and she grips Chara's hand a little tighter as if that can anchor her. Whether it does, or just the way she stills suddenly Rin's unsure, but she actually does stay put. Breathes out a sigh of relief.]
We should be careful testing it, in case we fall further. Maybe we would just drop to the next floor, but I don't want to risk it so quick.
[She can't really feel anything but open air under her feet, and without being able to see, it's hard not to imagine. A drop and then—
Then the scent of ozone and a bed of flowers, golden yellow under a thin beam of light. The feeling like stirring from a dream, or something whimsical. Déjà vu. Maybe it would work out like it did before.]
[They should be more nervous than this, they think. However some aspects of this are familiar to outside parties- there's a vague reassurance, a sense of just... perhaps having the hiccups (how he knows what hiccups are, they don't bother to think of too much) but it's- not horrible. It's not as bad as it seems.
It won't last forever.
Breathe.]
Sa- I believe I know what's happening. If it is...how I imagine it is, then- it should correct itself in it's own time.
[They hope. Because there's an aspect of calculation involved with changing it on their own that Chara isn't so confident about, stomach dropping as they grip her hand all the tighter. Biting the inside of their cheek in the same place they had just days before, letting the copper taste fill their mouth.
[Okay. It's all Rin says, and it never strikes her as her odd. Doesn't wonder at the whiplash change in their mood; impatient to reserved, untrusting to a gambler. They don't ask why when it comes to Chara, only that they are.
And right now, they are troubled and more pressing, they could be waiting for some time.
If you were to break down the pieces of their souls into precise categories, single words with no exposition or meaning assigned to them, and compare the traits side by side, in many respects, Frisk would be Rin's opposite. They're humble where she's proud; patient where she might lose her temper.
But there's an overlap, when it comes to seeing someone they care about upset; a shared instinct to put them at ease, although Rin's approach might be more off-the-cuff than the careful consideration Frisk would give. An innocent topic of discussion to distract them, maybe.]
[They aren't a patient child. They aren't a patient being as a HOLE, whether it brings them to snow poffs or trash piles or the studious action of washing their hands. It's against their very nature to wait, and against their very nature to trust- but they do both, drawing upon the latter from another source entirely that attempts to fit and smooth over the jagged edges of their core.
Three sources attempting to soothe them. Chara doesn't recognize a single one. A messy exhale, biting their lip at how excessively loud it seems in their ears- but they need to breathe. Can't hold it in, can't temper it down, let it catch in their throat until they know it's coming out soundlessly.
They answer the question, instead.]
I haven't been to the library, as of late- just- rereading an old classic, when time permits.
[When they allow themself a moment to be selfish.]
[A classic like...? Treasure Island. Lord of the Flies? Of Mice and Men, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Greek myths, fairy tales, and Irish legends.
Or is it a favorite they once told her to look up, after an exchange of fortune cookies? Kitchen they had said, with a pressed flower bookmark in their hands that whispers like the ocean in a seashell, when you close your eyes.
Oh, or maybe it's not a classic story, but poetry. It's easy to picture them with a worn book in hand, eyes following words their heart has memorized.
But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.]
[Something in her feels stiff. A memory like noticing a scuff in her beautiful new shoes when she went to fasten them, getting ready for school one February morning that makes her thinks of jinxes. How silly.
Thinking it's silly doesn't make her feel less shaken, but Rin smiles anyways. Where had she been going with that thought again? Right, right.]
...We have plenty of time here. Why don't you tell me about it?
Someone else has. Someone else has laid there, on the end of Chara's bed, and listened to them tell the tale with the smooth confidence of someone who doesn't even need the book in their hands. So very quiet, only speaking up themself when a thought strikes- commentary upon a particular segment, insight upon the characters, and what they thought of them thus far.
A shared look between them, when the character they both associated with the most simply died. From vibrant caricature to simple plot device.
They'd both pretended not to associate with her even more, at that.]
When I’m dead worn out, in a reverie, I often think that when it comes time to die, I want to breathe my last in a kitchen. Whether it’s cold and I’m all alone, or somebody’s there and it’s warm, I’ll stare death fearlessly in the eye.
If it’s in a kitchen, I’ll think, “How good.”
It has been my favorite for a very long time. Did you read it?
[It's the first time she's heard those words, and yet it feels like the fourth or the fifth. It should be strange, how the nostalgia nests in her bones, but it isn't. Listening to Chara recite the passage, Rin only feels a dreamy fondness. For a moment her face softens, and she laughs lightly under her breath.]
That sounds like a boy I know.
[She can picture him so clearly; red hair and warm brown eyes, bustling about his kitchen in that silly apron. You'd think he was born in that kitchen. If he could fit his futon in it, she bets he would definitely sleep there. Rin shakes her head.]
But no, I haven't read it. I've looked for it in the library every couple of weeks since the day you told me about it, but haven't come across it yet.
[She looks back over to Chara, eyes teasing.] Although now I'm wondering if it's because you have the only copy.
[A boy? They make a face at that, but say nothing. Part of them is rather amused at their abhorrence of implied romance- even Frisk could appreciate a good love story. Chara should, what was the term, there?
Live a little.
That part can shut up and go back to sleep.]
I may have the only copy... how about this? Should you make it to the end of this castle, I shall bequeath it upon you.
[It won't matter if they do at that point, after all.
A gift for me? [Arm to her chest, Rin bows in an exaggerated, sweeping gesture.] Oh! I'm humbled, milord!
[Lighthearted. She wants to laugh; Chara and their ever grandiloquent vocabulary, as always. But halfway through, though gone unseen with the way her bangs momentarily hide the top half of her face, Rin's smile no longer reaches her eyes. ...the end?
Eggs and toast. She'd nibbled at the crusts while grandfather polished her shoe, and the phone rang.
She can't laugh, but she doesn't let herself frown.]
But if it's your favorite, I can just borrow it.
[That'd make more sense. Right? It's not like this person, who was reluctant to even break a fortune cookie they were handed to give a special possession away.]
[Chara considers themself an excellent judge of character. They've certainly had the time to learn to be so; exposure to the relevant source materials, the way in which judgement could, and should, be handed down. But they miss it, this time. They take her amusement at face value, judge her stiffness based off the place they're in, and disregard it completely.
They've always had a morbid sense of humor.]
Call it a leap of faith, then. I am trusting you to take care of it.
[No dice? And no explanation. Rin stares, briefly; the dread she thought she could shake like loose cobwebs solidifying in her like cement instead. You know, the last time someone gave her a precious book...
"Well then, I'll be going. You know what to do now, right?"
Don't—]
...Mm.
[Seemingly letting it go, Rin's face is impassive as she turns her head up to watch the people walk on the "ceiling", going about their business in the mess hall.
It's Chara. It's not wrong. A camaraderie deeper than that of siblings tells her it isn't wrong. Is utterly calm. And that's the problem. It should be wrong, and that it somehow isn't has every instinct in her squirming, unsettled and unnerved, but
Please don't think about this anymore, something in her soul says. Like the colorful band-aids Koo likes to stick to her cheeks and arm to make her feel better when she's sad. So she doesn't say anything more on it. But it still nags.]
[Not up for jokes, is she? Their brow furrows, but once again, Chara doesn't chase. They replicate her movements instead, looking up with a detached sense of equally morbid fascination as people walk to and fro.]
They'd never know we were down here, would they?
[We could die down here, and not a soul would know. One soul might know. One soul that ripples with a sort of dissatisfaction that's easily waved away and disregarded, just like it has been in all else. Their wrists have been itching for days- isn't that enough?
[They might be shifting again. And despite all best reassurances (sans any effort to be, as most would say, best) Chara still sounds alarmed, grip on her tightening substantially, almost as if they're afraid she might let go.
Please don't let go. This isn't how it's supposed to end.]
[They're both shifting; Rin's certain of that at the last second, holding Chara's hand so tightly and refusing to budge that when they fall through the... whatever this not-floor is, Rin is pulled along too.
There's not enough time to mumble reassurances, I got you and it's okay. Just fingers laced together, I'm here, I'm here as the world fwooshes past to who knows where next but down, down, down.
[A whoosh of air; like colliding with solid ground but not. They fall- the both of them, Chara clutching Rin's hand so hard it's surprising they haven't cut off the circulation- before ending in a suspended sensation, legs kicking uselessly beneath them, before they go still. They can see-
Their face is half clipped through the wall. They can see a bedroom, with no idea as to whose it could be. Keeping their eyes closed seems to be the better course of action.]
...I suppose we may just fall out of the world completely, if this keeps up.
[This is somehow more disturbing than the last position they were in. Rin winces; not only at the smell of the bathroom, but Chara's grip on her hand. It's starting to hurt.
She doesn't dare let go.
Rin takes deep breaths, calming herself and trying to assess the situation. Clipped like this... It hurts to look between the bathroom and the side of nothingness they're split between, but they should have an easier time with their cellphones like this now, shouldn't they?]
We'll just have to stop it before then, right?
[Because she doesn't want to die, or whatever this ridiculous fate might be; wholly from herself and the bottom of her heart does Rin feel that, dipping into a pool of optimism that's a bit wider than usual.]
Such as to keep most of our bodies together, or at least able to access what we need?
[Last time they were caught at the waist, cut in half from top to bottom, and this time it's side to side. It's hard to say if they can time that just right, but...]
Possibly... If we concentrated on what we were doing and didn't look away once.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[She trails off, grunting as she tries to wiggle. Move up or down and— ahaha, there's a sensation like slipping, and she grips Chara's hand a little tighter as if that can anchor her. Whether it does, or just the way she stills suddenly Rin's unsure, but she actually does stay put. Breathes out a sigh of relief.]
We should be careful testing it, in case we fall further. Maybe we would just drop to the next floor, but I don't want to risk it so quick.
[She can't really feel anything but open air under her feet, and without being able to see, it's hard not to imagine. A drop and then—
Then the scent of ozone and a bed of flowers, golden yellow under a thin beam of light. The feeling like stirring from a dream, or something whimsical. Déjà vu. Maybe it would work out like it did before.]
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It won't last forever.
Breathe.]
Sa- I believe I know what's happening. If it is...how I imagine it is, then- it should correct itself in it's own time.
[They hope. Because there's an aspect of calculation involved with changing it on their own that Chara isn't so confident about, stomach dropping as they grip her hand all the tighter. Biting the inside of their cheek in the same place they had just days before, letting the copper taste fill their mouth.
Breathe.]
We should wait.
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[Okay. It's all Rin says, and it never strikes her as her odd. Doesn't wonder at the whiplash change in their mood; impatient to reserved, untrusting to a gambler. They don't ask why when it comes to Chara, only that they are.
And right now, they are troubled and more pressing, they could be waiting for some time.
If you were to break down the pieces of their souls into precise categories, single words with no exposition or meaning assigned to them, and compare the traits side by side, in many respects, Frisk would be Rin's opposite. They're humble where she's proud; patient where she might lose her temper.
But there's an overlap, when it comes to seeing someone they care about upset; a shared instinct to put them at ease, although Rin's approach might be more off-the-cuff than the careful consideration Frisk would give. An innocent topic of discussion to distract them, maybe.]
Have you read any good books lately?
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Three sources attempting to soothe them. Chara doesn't recognize a single one. A messy exhale, biting their lip at how excessively loud it seems in their ears- but they need to breathe. Can't hold it in, can't temper it down, let it catch in their throat until they know it's coming out soundlessly.
They answer the question, instead.]
I haven't been to the library, as of late- just- rereading an old classic, when time permits.
[When they allow themself a moment to be selfish.]
1/2
[A classic like...? Treasure Island. Lord of the Flies? Of Mice and Men, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Greek myths, fairy tales, and Irish legends.
Or is it a favorite they once told her to look up, after an exchange of fortune cookies? Kitchen they had said, with a pressed flower bookmark in their hands that whispers like the ocean in a seashell, when you close your eyes.
Oh, or maybe it's not a classic story, but poetry. It's easy to picture them with a worn book in hand, eyes following words their heart has memorized.
But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.]
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Thinking it's silly doesn't make her feel less shaken, but Rin smiles anyways. Where had she been going with that thought again? Right, right.]
...We have plenty of time here. Why don't you tell me about it?
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Someone else has. Someone else has laid there, on the end of Chara's bed, and listened to them tell the tale with the smooth confidence of someone who doesn't even need the book in their hands. So very quiet, only speaking up themself when a thought strikes- commentary upon a particular segment, insight upon the characters, and what they thought of them thus far.
A shared look between them, when the character they both associated with the most simply died. From vibrant caricature to simple plot device.
They'd both pretended not to associate with her even more, at that.]
When I’m dead worn out, in a reverie, I often think that when it comes time to die, I want to breathe my last in a kitchen. Whether it’s cold and I’m all alone, or somebody’s there and it’s warm, I’ll stare death fearlessly in the eye.
If it’s in a kitchen, I’ll think, “How good.”
It has been my favorite for a very long time. Did you read it?
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That sounds like a boy I know.
[She can picture him so clearly; red hair and warm brown eyes, bustling about his kitchen in that silly apron. You'd think he was born in that kitchen. If he could fit his futon in it, she bets he would definitely sleep there. Rin shakes her head.]
But no, I haven't read it. I've looked for it in the library every couple of weeks since the day you told me about it, but haven't come across it yet.
[She looks back over to Chara, eyes teasing.] Although now I'm wondering if it's because you have the only copy.
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Live a little.
That part can shut up and go back to sleep.]
I may have the only copy... how about this? Should you make it to the end of this castle, I shall bequeath it upon you.
[It won't matter if they do at that point, after all.
She'd likely take good care of it.]
Consider it a gift.
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[Lighthearted. She wants to laugh; Chara and their ever grandiloquent vocabulary, as always. But halfway through, though gone unseen with the way her bangs momentarily hide the top half of her face, Rin's smile no longer reaches her eyes. ...the end?
Eggs and toast. She'd nibbled at the crusts while grandfather polished her shoe, and the phone rang.
She can't laugh, but she doesn't let herself frown.]
But if it's your favorite, I can just borrow it.
[That'd make more sense. Right? It's not like this person, who was reluctant to even break a fortune cookie they were handed to give a special possession away.]
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They've always had a morbid sense of humor.]
Call it a leap of faith, then. I am trusting you to take care of it.
[Some would even call it sick.]
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"Well then, I'll be going. You know what to do now, right?"
Don't—]
...Mm.
[Seemingly letting it go, Rin's face is impassive as she turns her head up to watch the people walk on the "ceiling", going about their business in the mess hall.
It's Chara. It's not wrong. A camaraderie deeper than that of siblings tells her it isn't wrong. Is utterly calm. And that's the problem. It should be wrong, and that it somehow isn't has every instinct in her squirming, unsettled and unnerved, but
Please don't think about this anymore, something in her soul says. Like the colorful band-aids Koo likes to stick to her cheeks and arm to make her feel better when she's sad. So she doesn't say anything more on it.
But it still nags.]
cw self harm mentions
They'd never know we were down here, would they?
[We could die down here, and not a soul would know. One soul might know. One soul that ripples with a sort of dissatisfaction that's easily waved away and disregarded, just like it has been in all else. Their wrists have been itching for days- isn't that enough?
Their knives haven't seen any use lately.]
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[Bringing her only free hand to her mouth, Rin demonstrates. Fwooh fwssh. With an actual light breeze thrown in, because she has a wind affinity.]
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Is this enough, or would you prefer I try harder?
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But somehow it's expected too. She almost goes to clap before — haha whoops, only one arm. Rin settles for whistling appreciatively instead.]
No way. You nailed it! We should—
[Er, wait. Are they shifting again?]
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[They might be shifting again. And despite all best reassurances (sans any effort to be, as most would say, best) Chara still sounds alarmed, grip on her tightening substantially, almost as if they're afraid she might let go.
Please don't let go. This isn't how it's supposed to end.]
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There's not enough time to mumble reassurances, I got you and it's okay. Just fingers laced together, I'm here, I'm here as the world fwooshes past to who knows where next but down, down, down.
At least they're together, right?]
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Their face is half clipped through the wall. They can see a bedroom, with no idea as to whose it could be. Keeping their eyes closed seems to be the better course of action.]
...I suppose we may just fall out of the world completely, if this keeps up.
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She doesn't dare let go.
Rin takes deep breaths, calming herself and trying to assess the situation. Clipped like this... It hurts to look between the bathroom and the side of nothingness they're split between, but they should have an easier time with their cellphones like this now, shouldn't they?]
We'll just have to stop it before then, right?
[Because she doesn't want to die, or whatever this ridiculous fate might be; wholly from herself and the bottom of her heart does Rin feel that, dipping into a pool of optimism that's a bit wider than usual.]
Can you see your phone?
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[They can, after a brief, cursory glance, see what they think is Rin's foot; part of her elbow. Not all that helpful, if morbidly fascinating.]
Do you think we can attempt to position ourselves, should we continue dropping lower?
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[Last time they were caught at the waist, cut in half from top to bottom, and this time it's side to side. It's hard to say if they can time that just right, but...]
Possibly... If we concentrated on what we were doing and didn't look away once.
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[It does matter, actually. The latter is a necessity- the former a need. It's very possible that they're both simply weighing each other down.
They never were good at letting go.]
Unless you have another idea, then I suggest we at least try.
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