8th || Sharing is Caring!

[achievementhunter]

[There's no such thing as "accidentally" calling everyone on the Far Stones. One must have consciously made the decision to speak to everyone, like a walkie-talkie that can't be turned off on the receiving end. So when Chara speaks to- everyone, it is with full awareness that they are, in fact, speaking to everyone.]

Poisonous flowers are curious things, did you know? [Which is why they start off on such a chipper note!] For many, it is the act of ingesting them which causes illness or fatality. For others, however... the simple act of prolonged contact is enough- toxins are absorbed through the skin.

Death can take anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks. [By golly, they sound happy about this.] So it's a frightfully good idea to invest in some gardening gloves, should you wish to transplant any flora from Ziziphus to another locale. It could be the difference between a new garden and your rather unfortunate demise.



[Anyways everything's totally chill. Chara's totally fine and absolutely nothing is wrong ever, they just like making these kinds of announcements for kicks. It has Absolutely Nothing to do with failing to request gloves of their own.

Comments

[souldeterminant]

[They laugh. It's soft, and utterly humorless, but it's not really angry, either. They never really did master the way of communicating themself through torrid peals of laughter the way their Partner did.]

[It's just a noise. It's still just them.]

Aren't you tired of following me yet?

[They are. They're tired of making the wrong decisions.]

I would prefer you have a choice.

At least once.

[achievementhunter]

[Torrid peals of laughter never sound right when you're tired, anyway. Frisk's answer is silence, at first- just the gentle, repetitive tapping of a fingernail against stone whilst Chara stares off into the distance, considering their answer.]

My choice

Is Frisk. No more Kittu. No more Kidwun, at that. If you're truly set on letting go of that dream, then we embrace our consequences.

[The consequences of being- them. Frisk and Chara; the child who freed the Underground. The future of humans and monsters. Angels, demons-- just kids.

And everything that's come from attempting not to be.]

All of them, Partner.

[souldeterminant]

[All of them.]

[Hopes and Dreams. Warped into their best nightmare. Even now, with the memory of mottled, bitter purple, Frisk feels like... they think... they did the best they could. They really, really tried. They just wanted everyone to be happy. Themself. Chara. Everyone.]

[Sans.]

[They were all going to be free.]

I know that, [they say, sharply, with something that cuts them more sharply than it leaves their tongue. At least it feels that way.]

[They get it now, maybe; but it's the lesson they're not sure that they ever really get. Because they just seem to keep learning it over and over. Everything has consequences. Even when they try to do everything they can to make everyone happy, it still comes with consequences, a thing that bleeds when they tear it open. Because a part of them is still being selfish. Is that ever going to stop? Are they just... ?]

[...]

Chara.

I don't know how to make everyone happy. I keep thinking I do, but I'm wrong all the time. I don't know what I want for everyone.

I don't want you to die.

[achievementhunter]

[Do they really?

No, Chara thinks. Not nearly well enough. If they truly understood it, they wouldn't be discussing things as they are. They don't know what they want, Frisk says, for everybody else. Is it cruel, to correct them?]

I'm not asking about everyone. Just us. [Chara corrects regardless. They are so, so tired of this. Of owing everything to someone else. Doing everything, for everyone else. Being told what they are. What they should be. And every little contradiction that's come with it. They're so. Tired.
They are far beyond the point of pretending they can control more than that. If the world wishes to know what they want for others, it can ask. Frisk could ask.

It won't.]
[They won't.]
The rest of the world- since when has it cared about either of us? The future of humans and monsters? Our future? Our Angels. Did it ever care what we wanted? Did they?

Forget the world, Frisk. It never remembered us, ever. And if I'm to live, it shall be because I decided to. Because you want me to.

Let the world take care of itself, for once. I'm done taking responsibility for it.