[OPEN] this ONE WEIRD TRICK to losing your will to live

[fulllifeconsequences]

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 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.

Comments

[punful]

[They answer quietly, like they're trying to coax a small animal out of hiding. He must seem more pathetic than he thought.]

i'm not.

[He hasn't been scared of Chara in a long time. Not really. What happened in the lab was...well, there were extenuating circumstances.]

[They don't even really need to just come out and say it like that. It's obvious right away, from their posture, their tone, the way they move forward so quietly, like they're trying to take up as little room and make as little noise as possible--this has to be their Mirror. Chara isn't this...cautious, not with Sans. Not in the same context. Cautious, in the sense that they don't trust him, sure.]

[There's that feeling again, as they hold out the pouch of juice, that he's just some kind of small, skittish animal. For some reason he almost expects them to start making chirping sounds or something.]

[He sits up a bit more, eyeing the juice. When's the last time he ate anything, drank anything? She didn't let him eat. And Chara might just be bait of some kind. Keep him off guard with all this baffling kindness.]

[Honestly, though...he's desperate. Hungry, feeling like he's on the brink of something.]

[He leans forward and carefully takes the juice pouch.]

thank you. i...if you have any food or something...

[undetermined]

[He must be nervous, if he feels like he has to lie. He says he's not scared, but they know they wear the exact same face as a person who reduced him to sobbing on the ground, begging for his life. He's moving carefully, like he expects them to slap the juice right out of his hand, maybe slap his entire hand right off with it.

They just have to try harder to be comforting, then. They dig eagerly into their basket, start pulling out - start pulling out too much, probably, but it's always better to give too much than to give too little. A little shrink-wrapped package of crackers and Cheez Whiz, fruit leather, a Halloween-size pack of popato chisps, some Oreos.]

They're not monster food, so they don't heal or anything, but - but if you're hungry, take as much as you want. I'm happy to share. You must be having a rough time over here. But... how did... um... sorry, but, uh, how did you cross? Your mirror's not... er. I didn't think he'd feel up to crossing over, is all.

[punful]

[It's the one thing Mirrors all have in common--they're unexpected. Unpredictable. Just different enough that you can't possibly know what they're ever going to do. They don't wrench their hand back or drop the juice on the floor or knock it out of his hand, all things he's half-expecting them to do. They just...let him take it.]

[He waits another moment before he drinks, downing almost the entire thing in one gulp. It's not monster food, so it takes a bit of a trick to make it go down right, but that's fine. It does the job, and it's not like he ever actually needs healing. He can't help the small sigh of relief that escapes him.]

[They start digging around through what appears to be a metric ton of food. They must be just sort of bringing care packages to stranded Reals or something, because that can't possibly all be for him. Nor is he going to take it, even if it is.]

[He's definitely going to take the crackers and Cheez Whiz, though. Perfect. The only thing that stops him from just eating the Cheez Whiz straight out of the can is the sense that if he eats too fast, he's gonna regret it in some way.]

[He settles a little more, since they don't seem to mean any immediate harm. He's done trusting Mirrors, though. Never again.]

[He frowns vaguely at the question.]

so you know about...'s everyone here just know already? 'bout what she's...

[No reason for it to be a secret. He's not sure why he thought it was. Or maybe they really are helping Alphys. Maybe this really is just a trap.]

[He grips the can of Cheez Whiz a little too tightly. It doesn't make for much defense, but it's something to hold onto.]

she musta pushed him through.

[His Mirror must be in a sorry state, even sorrier than he's in right now.]

[He rubs at his neck. The juice helped, but it still hurts, and talking is an effort.]

you takin' me back to 'er?

[undetermined]

What? No! Of course not. I'm on your side. I'm not like my Real. I won't just - just torment you for no reason other than to see you suffer!

[They're maybe too loud when they say that. Shouldn't be so vehement. It looks like anger, and anger is bad. Scary. Not like them at all. They soften, hunch their shoulders, look down.]

I'm not... very brave, or anything. I know I'm - I know you'd probably have literally anyone else. But I can be useful! I can be loyal! You're... you've had it so hard, haven't you? Everyone and everything's been so unfair to you. You haven't done anything to deserve...

[To deserve... whatever? They don't even know who "she" is or what he's talking about. Toriel's mirror? Alphys', probably. Don't know why she'd shove someone so useful to her out, but she's the only one who talks to Sans' mirror, really, and it's not like Sans is especially close to a lot of other "she's" that someone like Chara could possibly think of.

Whatever. He probably wouldn't like Chara prying. They don't really need to know, anyway. They can tell he's all sad and tired, they can tell he's stranded here, they can tell he's alone.]

You deserve to have somebody who's in your corner. I just want to be here for you. Honest.

[punful]

[He squints at them.]

they...don't, though.

[No one can drag people like Chara, but between the two of them it's usually a tit-for-tat sort of thing. At least it used to be--sometimes. When they really go at him, it's because he deserves it. Because they're telling him something he needs to hear, that he never bothered to acknowledge for himself.]

[He can't help giving them a baffled look as they go on. Are they--mocking him? Or are they just pitying him? Stands to reason. He's the picture of pity right now. The poster-child for skeletons in need. Donate to your local charity today.]

[He fidgets with the spigot on the Cheez Whiz. They want to be useful.]

'preciate it but...s' a pretty small corner for a reason.

[He made it this way, after all.]

s' nice of you to bring food 'n such around. 's useful. 'preciate that, too.

[Neck's hurting again, so he sucks down the rest of the juice.]

[undetermined]

But it doesn't have to be that way, Sans, [they answer gently.] You don't always have to pretend that you're not hurting. You might be hurting more than anyone else here.

You lost Papyrus, didn't you? Nobody's talking to you about that. Nobody's talking about how tired you look. Nobody's talking about how you've been the victim of - of all this stuff lately.

[Of whatever the heck happened here that's got him looking so bedraggled, of the last few events, of all the times he's been helpless and holding back sobs, entirely at the mercy of someone who just wants to hurt them because they have that kind of power.]

Nobody's trying to be there for you, are they? And that's not fair. Not when you've been hit so much harder than they have. Not when you keep being forced into these horrible situations, and you can't even stop it. Nobody's thinking about the empty space that you don't have anyone to fill anymore.

That's... it's not okay, Sans. It isn't. They're not doing enough for you. They're all just - just abandoning you when you need them most, and they aren't even going to realize it until it's too late, are they?

[punful]

[They keep talking. They keep talking so softly, so gently, like he's a victim, like he's some helpless little thing that needs rescuing, like he's weak. Like he doesn't already know he's weak. Like he hasn't heard that his whole life. Like he hasn't heard that hushed sort of tone his whole damn life.]

[And maybe there's a kernel of truth in what they're saying, because all this loneliness doesn't come from nowhere. Not all of it, at least. But that's neither here nor there. He's been pushing people away, and that's that. He can't even think about blame or fault right now, beyond the fact that he made his bed and is now lying in it.]

[He just can't do this right now. He can't do this when he's still on this side of the glass, when he's still hearing all the sounds from the lab ringing in his skull. The more they talk, the more trapped he feels. The more hollow dread opens up inside him.]

stop.

[He tries to sound firm, but he wouldn't be surprised if they hear pleading. Is that all he is to them? Something to be helped?]

don't know what you're doing, but stop it. 'm not worse off. 'm not a victim. s' not anything like what you're...

[He pauses to breathe. It's so damn hard to breathe.]

...sayin'. y'either...don't know what all's been happenin', or...you're tryin' t'convince me of somethin'. jus' stop, okay? 'm too tired for this.