lifenet | May 23rd || Oh God Kids Turn Your iStones Off

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May 23rd || Oh God Kids Turn Your iStones Off

Content Warning: This post will contain discussions of death, physical harm, and self-hate from children. Other threads may also be tagged with their own warnings for self-harm, suicide, or abuse- these warnings will be communicated with thread participants prior to posting said content.

[It starts mid conversation, as an abrupt a beginning as the call itself. Even mid sentence, however, there’s amusement in the tone of the speaker, dry and caustic.]

...Think it’s quite funny, actually. Go ahead. Underestimate me.

You should try it, Partner. Adults are terribly gullible. You’re hardly responsible if they want to look like an ass.

[A pause. Then the reply comes; a different voice, equally young, but softer. Blunted at the edge by resignation and annoyance.]

Why? We just do whatever we want anyway. No matter what they say.

It’s funny, for one. [The other voice retorts, lightning fast.] Maybe you’ll even do something crazy, like…. smile.

I am smiling. Look.

[Another beat. It’s unclear whether the speaker is, in fact, smiling.]

...I can tell, [It’s unclear whether the speaker can, in fact, tell.] Besides, that’s hardly the worst thing adults do.

I know. [They let that hang for a moment, and then their tone shifts.] But it’s better sometimes. They don’t realize they’re in our way. So it’s easier to move them.

Unless they insist they aren’t going to be moved. [They mutter darkly.] You know who I mean, don’t you? The helpful ones.

[Their tone and pitch shifts into a high mockery of someone- or anyone at all.]

But I can help you, Chara! I know what you’re going through! Tell me about what happened to you, in intimate detail, so I may then pat my bum that I’ve taken care of you as best I can. Oh, Frisk dear, you just seem so quiet! I know that Chara must scare you badly- why would you ever let them stick around?

Stop.

[More forceful, this time, lined with hard disgust. There’s a shift in the audio, like nails scraping gently over metal.]

They’re all stupid. I don’t care if they think we’re useless. At least they won’t look at us that way.

What, you mean there’s no thousand year old magic barrier to break, this time? No future of humans and monsters? No angel? [Chara lets out a faux sigh of distress.] What a pity. And here I was, spiking your punch with bone hurting juice, just to ensure they had a head start on making our lives miserable.

I said I just did what I wanted. Breaking the barrier. And everything else, too. Even if monsters treated us differently, they still didn’t do anything.

[Frisk stops, and the scraping sound stops, too. Something else bleeds into their tone.]

Don’t worry. They won’t stop us.

They better not. [As Chara speaks, their voice begins to crackle. Heavier and heavier, until the words are indistinguishable from the white noise enveloping them.]

I’ve co❍͇͖̖̪͛͠❍̓ ⧫̗̜͚͗̋ͬͧ̈́o̼ͯ͗ͪ□͓̣̰̠̟̟̖͂͌̓ f̴̣ͯ̾̍̾͊ar just .|̓ͫͮ͆͏̗͡◆ die beca̤̝͔̪͖̓̊u͕̠̅͊̍̈́͛se so❍□■|̨̪̿ͅ|̨͎̜͇ ⬥■͇̮͆̿ͫ̕͞⧫̙̮̖̍ͣ̄̔͊͝⬧̙̪̫͇ͫ̇͐ͮ̍͞ ❍ ⧫! #̂͌̚̚-͎̯̙͎̃ ,̨͈̮̦̘̹̯ͨ͋ͥ͂͂̐ͅ❍͖͖̺̣ͤ̑͌́͞|͚͉̭͖ͦͪ\͍͈̲̌|͎̜̯͕ͫͫ̊̑́

[The feed cuts shortly after.]

OOC: In your top-level, please note if you'd prefer to speak with Frisk, Chara, both in a singular thread, or both in two separate threads!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[...well, this sure is awkward.]

Uh...mic's on, kiddos.

[There is, admittedly, much more he'd like to say. Concern for them both, asking what the hell half of that means, a warning that sometimes listening to or relying on the adults in your life isn't a bad choice...but he's not so stupid as to barge in where he isn't wanted.]

[I do not recommend listening to the actual song if you don't already know what song this is. It's got a massive cw: suicide on it.]

♪then you need to book a therapy session
talk about your depression
and let a professional hear it♪

[It's the mockery that really gets to her. She can't tell if it's directed towards her - would she ever say such things to them? Would she ever be so terrible as to try to push Chara and Frisk apart? Has she ever tried to pull Chara's past out of them only out of some kind of selfish need to feel better about herself? She doesn't know if that's what they think of her - as one of the "helpful ones," the ones that "aren't going to be moved."

But the rest of the conversation is just as concerning. "The future of humans and monsters", talk of breaking the barrier... familiar words, but with a darker undertone to them. Chara is implying something, but she can't be sure what. Not until she's heard it from them.

And it sounds like they're... planning something, something she doesn't entirely understand. Frisk's tone of voice, something she's never heard from them before... Chara saying the word "die" just before their voice cut out... it terrifies her to her core. What are they talking about?

She decides to respond gently, calmly. She can tell this is a private conversation, but... she has to say something. She has to.]

Chara? Frisk? Can you hear my voice?

[Static. Eerily bright, high and atonal, a shrilling of overlapping sounds like a dying fax machine, until finally they plane out into something discernible as words. Cut across with the audible tear of white noise and distortion.]

Tha̱̒᷉n͖᷆͊k͉ͩ͋s foṟ᷀ͅ t̙᷈̎he ĉ͍͛oͥn͎͉͌firḿ̇̾ạ̱̎ti̲̻̍o͗̆ͬn̥̈ͨ.̶̥̂

Alway̴̑᷾s͒᷀̆ k̒͋̐new I w̏͒͘a̦̯̓s dead̹͍̐̋́̔᷾ w̵̳͎͉̏̚̕ḙ̳᷁̌ͮ̍̓i͉̗̯͗ͣ́̚g̡͕᷊͚̥͘͘h̳̅̆᷃̄ͦ̋t̸̝̙̝̂͒̕.̪͔ͣ͆ͪͪ̇.

[That sharp state returns, peaking for a moment before it begins to fade away.

And initially, the only response Connor has is laughter. High pitched, hysterical laughter.]

I knew it. I knew it.

This is hell. I'm dead. This is hell.

[The stone in her hand screeches with feedback, as abrupt in ending as it was in beginning. Deathly silence fills the feed, though different from the bluntness that comes with a lack of connection.

Chara is simply silent. Until they aren't.]

Why now?

Why are you bothering to talk to me now?

[Answering static, sharp and akin to nails on a chalkboard. It heaves, over and over, in a rhythmic manner that eventually evens out into heavy rasps of labored breathing. When Chara responds, it's--

Barely. A croak of sound, like their throat has been rubbed with sandpaper.]

Who...

Who's there? An- [They cut themself off with a muffled, wet cough, which quickly dissolves into a series of heaving noises.]

I don't need a doctor. Tell mother-- no more doctors.

No more.

[A burst of laughter is his initial response, high and tinny. It seems like Chara can't stop laughing, a wet note almost sounding like

Tears are rolling down their cheeks.]

Of course, how could I forget?!

It's rude to talk about people who are listening!

[And back to laughter they go, lost to their apparent amusement entirely.]

♪you know i wanna be damned, gotta be damned
you know i wanna be damned, gotta be damned♪

[So yes. The answer's yes.]

[For all the warped nature of his own response, Tim certainly heard theirs - and in his attempt to answer, doesn't realize just how distorted things are going to become. Icy chill up against his skin, the feeling of sweat stuck to his back.. No more doctors.]

[No more doctors, said someone once, retching into their deathbed, skin flaking with reddened rashes and sores.]
[No more doctors, pleaded someone once, huddled in the corner of a room, wanting his mom and no one else.]

When's Mom com̕i᷊ṇg̓ b͈᷈́a̝͙᷈c̡͈̝k̫̆̚?"

[The Stones have been shitting the bed for like two days now, so it's not super surprising that this-- it's not meant for the whole ding dang island to hear. Most of what's said isn't news to Lup, at least, it resonates with a bitter answering ache in her heart. She's only horrified for the privacy that, once again, is being torn from them without their consent.

It's the last words, Frisk's and Chara's, that makes dread run cold in her chest, makes her voice thinner than it should be when she tries to warn them.]

Uhh, kid? You're not gonna like this...

[There’s a long silence, interrupted only by the rustling of movement as Chara brings the receiver up to their mouth. Brow furrowed, their tone is nonetheless polite as they respond.]

I’m sorry, who is this?

If you’re one of the new arrivals, you’d be better to speak with Rin Rohsaka.

[This is one of those times they probably shouldn't engage, but Beau is as nosy as she is bad at decisions, so here we go. You never know what kind of stuff you find out from moments like these.

So she clicks on, trying to make an attempt to shuffle thoughts together.]

Y'know, for insisting you don't want help from other people, this sure sounds like a cry for one.

[Asgore, for his part, can tell when conversations aren't meant for him. And he hears his words in his child's mouth. The future of humans and monsters, the angel. He always thought those were - compliments, emblems of pride he was handing them, or else motivations to go on. Was he wrong...?

He shouldn't be so surprised about that, really.

He doesn't respond himself. This wasn't meant for him. But after a bit of silence, there's a voice with a British accent, talking:]

Asgore? Please don't die too. Too many people have died already.

[Asgore's response, when it comes, is heavy.] It would change nothing.

[The voice that follows that laughter is calm, almost narrative, as if the speaker is simply reading something.]

Wh⬥̕͠͏̶tever. They're a hass⧫́́̕͢͏⬧̵̶̧̕͜ to work with an⧫҉́ay. Th⧫́́̕͢͏⬥̕͠͏̶⬧̵̶̧̕͜ ̸❍̵̨̕͟ds■̨҉⧫҉́ust⬧͜͏ ́͟͟͜͠❍̷͢͜ s⧫́́̕͢͏⬥̕͠͏̶ck⧫́́̕͢͏■̨҉⬥̕͠͏̶ to ■ y⧫́́̕͢͏u and won't l❍̹̜̹̼̩͘͘͡t go.

[Frisk listens for as long as they're able, which is really just a few verses, but they don't want to hear any more of it. They start to ask him to turn it off --]

[--but what comes out on Connor's end is the sound of a bell, followed by sharp, chiming piano notes and a distinctly electric hum.]

♫ Is that what you heard?
Broken words in the dirt
Yelling out, into the sun:
"Here we come." ♪

[The reply from her other child takes an even longer time to come. Frisk's voice comes as a question, quiet, hopeful - desperate in the way that only someone who's frightened of any kind of answer can be.]

Mom? Are you here?

[...]

... Dad?

[The words, shrill and distorted, still send an awful and familiar crawl down Frisk's spine. They cup the stone in their hands and speak slowly, firmly, but whatever they say ends up on Tim's end as a thin and watery voice.]

I don't want to let go, either.

[This response, unfortunately, comes as a blast of screeching, white-hot static. A voice modulates through the awful noise in snatches, contrasting against it with a gentle and pleading tone.]

P̛͖͚̝͉̘̝͎̼̬͖̰̙͕l̷͕͓̩̻̼̟̙̮̠e̴̞̳̞̲̼̱͉͕̹̭̦̕͢ḁ̙͖̖̮̭̱̯̬̩̟́͝s̨̨̮̲͍͍̭͔̳̥̘̻̤̱̹͕̜͘͟ͅe͝҉̷̯̼͍͉̤̰̘̝͈͢ ҉̡̰̹͇̻̕͘d̀͏̹̖̤͉͉̖̙̗̦͈̻̱̳̣̪̙̥̠͜͠ͅớ̵̪̩̲̞͉̱̭͎͙̺n͏̷̯̫̪͔̺̳̱̬'̸͕̜̗͓̞͔̱̳̲̟̻̻̮͍́̕̕ͅt̸̰̠͉͓̱̭͈͉́͟ ̨͚̩̤̟̫͢t̷̷̨̛̥̤̖͡h̴̶͔̹͖̙͇ͅͅi̴̴̵̜͍̝̬̠̱͕̠̬̫̼͢͠ṇ̸̨̧̩͕̲̲͟k̡͇͖͈͖̥̝̳͓̜͚̳̜͓̟͖͖͠ͅ ̵̨̠̼̹̞̘̪̀̕ͅͅà̶҉̜͖͍̙̗̞̪̪̰̻͚̝̗̪̱̜́b̷͙͍̟̭͠o̢̜̼̦̥̗͙̭u̧҉̭͎̯͖͠t̡̢̮̠͍̖̭̰̬͇̦̗͙̬̖̜̯̬͓ͅͅ ͕͉̝͙̫͓̙͘͢͜͢͝ţ̳̼̝̮̼͍̱̭͕͉̫h̵͚͙̺͙̳͙̼̭̳̩̼͍͙̪̀͢͞i҉̧̞̺͚̥̹̳̮̦̳̱̘̜͓̀ͅş̗͓̫̟͚̗̳̖̳͢͡ ̧̼̼͈̣̺͟á̵̝̺̺̣̤̳͕͉̬̫̞͙̰͈̺͢͞ń̨̕͏̰̱̣̮̺̟̲͚̀ỳ̵͏̪̯̬̹̞̭̬̲̤̦̳͉̞̮ͅm̧̛̙͎̘̞̲̣̣̘̰̠̤̗̠͎̀͝ơ̧̖̝̮͔̼̪̼͢͡ŗ̶̴̶̡͖͔̝ę̵̷̪̮̱̪͔̩͉͉̯̤̮̀͘.̵̷̡̻̩̙̝̘͖̗̪̺̜̹̰̘̭͈̤̼

[The music would probably strike other people as weird. Connor doesn't even parse it as different to usual - he's not even entirely aware he's been responding in song to people. Sometimes that's how it be when you're from a musical.]

♪here they talked of revolution
here it was they lit the flame
here they sang about tomorrow
and tomorrow never came♪

Ugh. Whoever that is, they aren't important.

[Chara's response is quick and irritated, and also- not directed at Beau.]

You feel like it's a good idea to finish throwing up before you worry about anything else.

Fa- sir? Sir?!

[In comparison to the acidic, mocking tones of before, Chara sounds positively frantic, practically shouting into the feed.

Or not.]

C-can you hear me?! Hello?? Fa- please, I don't understand!

What's happening to me?!

[Cool. Awesome. They always knew this is where they'd end up.]

And who are you supposed to be then? Are you...

Ha ha, my torturer? Excellent. Wonderful. Job done, sir, now leave me alone!

M-mother?

[Another breath, the mere whisper of a laugh. They've learned better than to try and make it any louder.]

Bedsheets. She wanted-- clean bedsheets.

...Asriel?

Do you understand what it is like to let down someone you care for?

[Asgore's response isn't bitter anymore. It's calm and quiet...almost resigned. Everything he's definitely not, here and now and hearing that on the other side of the stone.

The other voice that replies might have been that of a teenage girl at one point. But it's low and unnaturally distorted, like a radio station with all the knobs turned wrong. Not to mention, it sounds like it's coming through a cell phone held close to the stone.] No. We do not anymore.

[There's a long silence.]

Have you ever?

[The response is sing-song, almost childish despite the still-unnatural tenor.] Once upon a time~

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Page 1 of 3

May 23rd || Oh God Kids Turn Your iStones Off

Combinotron, plz and thank!

listen whatever y'all want

Both in separate threads!

whatever you like!

separate will probs work better! [TIMELINE OPTION 19]

heck yeah [TIMELINE OPTION 12]

I'm going for separate and hoo fucking boy -- TIMELINE OPTION 6

TIMELINE OPTION 10.

no subject

cw description of illness and institutionalization

calling Chara but Frisks are welcome

ring ring ring banana phone — TIMELINE OPTION 16

gimme both, separate or together is up to you!

whatever you want!

no subject

[♡ timeline v.]

[♡ timeline xviii.]

[♡ timeline xi.]

[♡ timeline iv not found.]

no subject

Gonna gooo separate - TIMELINE 2

singular for ease annnnd

I cocked up this is actually timeline 18 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

cws continuing for the rest of the thread, methinks

no subject