Chara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fulllifeconsequences) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2017-05-15 05:46 pm
fulllifeconsequences) wrote in entrancelogs2017-05-15 05:46 pm
[OPEN] this ONE WEIRD TRICK to losing your will to live
Who: Chara, Mirror Chara, anyone
Where: Mirrorside tearooms, the gardens
When: 5/15 - 5/20
Rating: PG for potential dissociation/unreality, references to suicide
Summary: It's funny when the mirror is more sure its real than you are, isn't it?
The Story:
[A - Real side, among the flowers]
Frisk isn't here.
It's a realization that pulls all the breath out of them, and it feels like they never quite inhale again. Like without their other half, they're nothing but a ghost, a held breath wandering without meaning. They know that death on the other side is... it's different. It's for real. They also know that Frisk was willing, once, to cooperate with their mirror. To find a way to the other side. They know that if Frisk isn't on this side, if they've gone somewhere Chara can't follow, that - that nothing is holding them back now. That the solemn oath to follow Frisk if death takes them means nothing if Chara can't reach them. That if Frisk was willing to trust in and protect their mirror once, Chara can never be sure that they won't do it again. That they won't resist that temptation.
They know they have no control over what happens next.
They know they might never see Frisk again.
Chara sits in the gardens, not knowing anywhere else to go. No mirror crossing over, nobody to lead them to the Rabbit Hole. So all they do is... they just sit among the flowers. Breathe. Try not to think too hard about what the last thing they may have ever said to Frisk would be - it certainly wasn't "goodbye" or "I love you" or anything poetic and real. Try not to fixate on seeing if this is the moment they forget, if some kind of omniscient force is going to purge their memory despite all their safeguards, all their determination to always remember.
Try to focus on what they can do, at least.
For now, that's nothing more than ripping petals off of flowers one by one, counting over and over and over.
[B - Mirrorside, time for tea - replies coming fromundetermined]
To tell the truth, the mirror... they sort of wish they'd been brave enough to cross over. To give everyone on the real side, the happy side, to - to give them a chance to see. To realize that they could have a better Chara, one who's nice, one who's never irrational, one who only has kind things to say about them. To maybe... they know it's impossible, but they still - it's nice to dream. To fantasize about escape. About slipping into another world where people want you around, where you're never useless or stupid or in the way, where you're useful. If they crossed over, then they'd surely meet people who'd be their friend. Who'd want to keep them. Who'd know that maybe this Chara was just born on the wrong side, and everyone would be happier if they could live on the side where nice people live, and the bad one can live on the mean side.
But they aren't brave enough. They know they'd never have the guts to hunt anyone down. They know they'd never have the nerve it takes to steal or vandalize or harm.
So they just... ha ha, they settle for what they get. They can still be useful here. There are some reals stranded here, after all, and they must be scared. Must be feeling helpless and lost. They could all, Chara's sure, use a friend right about now. So Chara... they can be that friend. They rove from one tearoom to the next, carrying a basket of snacks and first aid kits, doing their best to be the kind of person who answers a call for help. Someone out there must need them. Someone must want them, surely.
They just have to look hard enough.
Where: Mirrorside tearooms, the gardens
When: 5/15 - 5/20
Rating: PG for potential dissociation/unreality, references to suicide
Summary: It's funny when the mirror is more sure its real than you are, isn't it?
The Story:
[A - Real side, among the flowers]
Frisk isn't here.
It's a realization that pulls all the breath out of them, and it feels like they never quite inhale again. Like without their other half, they're nothing but a ghost, a held breath wandering without meaning. They know that death on the other side is... it's different. It's for real. They also know that Frisk was willing, once, to cooperate with their mirror. To find a way to the other side. They know that if Frisk isn't on this side, if they've gone somewhere Chara can't follow, that - that nothing is holding them back now. That the solemn oath to follow Frisk if death takes them means nothing if Chara can't reach them. That if Frisk was willing to trust in and protect their mirror once, Chara can never be sure that they won't do it again. That they won't resist that temptation.
They know they have no control over what happens next.
They know they might never see Frisk again.
Chara sits in the gardens, not knowing anywhere else to go. No mirror crossing over, nobody to lead them to the Rabbit Hole. So all they do is... they just sit among the flowers. Breathe. Try not to think too hard about what the last thing they may have ever said to Frisk would be - it certainly wasn't "goodbye" or "I love you" or anything poetic and real. Try not to fixate on seeing if this is the moment they forget, if some kind of omniscient force is going to purge their memory despite all their safeguards, all their determination to always remember.
Try to focus on what they can do, at least.
For now, that's nothing more than ripping petals off of flowers one by one, counting over and over and over.
[B - Mirrorside, time for tea - replies coming from
undetermined]To tell the truth, the mirror... they sort of wish they'd been brave enough to cross over. To give everyone on the real side, the happy side, to - to give them a chance to see. To realize that they could have a better Chara, one who's nice, one who's never irrational, one who only has kind things to say about them. To maybe... they know it's impossible, but they still - it's nice to dream. To fantasize about escape. About slipping into another world where people want you around, where you're never useless or stupid or in the way, where you're useful. If they crossed over, then they'd surely meet people who'd be their friend. Who'd want to keep them. Who'd know that maybe this Chara was just born on the wrong side, and everyone would be happier if they could live on the side where nice people live, and the bad one can live on the mean side.
But they aren't brave enough. They know they'd never have the guts to hunt anyone down. They know they'd never have the nerve it takes to steal or vandalize or harm.
So they just... ha ha, they settle for what they get. They can still be useful here. There are some reals stranded here, after all, and they must be scared. Must be feeling helpless and lost. They could all, Chara's sure, use a friend right about now. So Chara... they can be that friend. They rove from one tearoom to the next, carrying a basket of snacks and first aid kits, doing their best to be the kind of person who answers a call for help. Someone out there must need them. Someone must want them, surely.
They just have to look hard enough.
definitely a mistake
"I know. I know we're supposed to, but I just... I don't have the nerve to do it alone, you know? I'll make everyone mad at me if I go and take something, and then... then they'll all hate me. They'll think I'm bad. I don't... I just want people to like me. I don't want to cause trouble. You know?"
It's got me involved, of course it is.
no subject
"Maybe? I don't - I just don't like doing things alone. I know that's what she wants me to do, but there's so much that could go wrong, and what if that's not what everybody else wants me to do, you know? If I die while I'm trying to do it, then what? I don't... think I'm important enough to remake, after all."
no subject
"I already did mine. Took like an hour. I mean, it's pretty clear that you're, like, way less, uh, everything, than me, but come on. Get your ass out there, nab, hell what does other you like? I don't know. I stole some things from whats-his-horns with other-you in them."
He pulls some oversized polariods from out of his oversized cargo shorts (of course he's wearing cargo shorts), and then tosses them on a table in your general direction. "Take a look."
no subject
They shuffle closer, hesitantly, take the polaroids that he carelessly tossed out. It's... oh. Asgore, Frisk, Chara. All crowded into the frame, pressed up against Asgore's fuzzy bulk, looking... ha. Almost like a family, huh?
"It's not fair the other me even gets to have this," they mumble bitterly. "They're so mean. They hurt these two on purpose. They keep pushing them away. And yet they get to just - just play house, like it's totally fine? They drove both these people to wish for death, and they still put up with it. If I were you, I'd rip these awful things into pieces."
no subject