look at all that which surrounds me [ open ]

[determinedest]

Who: FRISK and YOU and/or TIM and YOU
Where: Mostly outside tbh like just generally gonna be in the woods
When: 2/09 - 2/11
Rating: PG-13; general cw for mental health shit for Tim in particular
Summary: Frisk climbed a mountain. Tim's lost time. Neither of them is particularly okay.
The Story:

[Just kidding starters are in the comments again so I don't spam the log comm lol. Anyway if you want closed starters just smack me here or over at arrpee. Also feel free to use either prose or brackets and I'll match you.]

Comments

[stananigans]

[He stops laughing when he sees the stance they take, but at least he's not attacking them. Plus he's still pretty sure a stick won't hurt him much, maybe bruise him up a bit. He could take them if he had to, but he's pretty sure he doesn't.]

Yeah! There's dinosaurs all over this joint! You didn't see 'em yet?

[Stan doesn't find that hard to believe only because literally everything is so hard to believe that he's decided this is all obviously some dream he's having.]

[determinedest]

[A shake of their head. They've been staying put when they can, ducking and hiding when they can't, and in general just burrowing into whatever nooks and crannies they can locate, as opposed to meeting any of these...things head on.]

[They've been keeping quiet.]

[More important, they're still in a state of uncertainty. This should be amended.]

Who're you?

[stananigans]

[The question throws him for a loop, mostly because he can't picture himself being more interesting than seeing dinosaurs.]

Uh. Stanley Pines.

[He's from a time before there was ever hesitation in that answer.]

What about you, kid?

[determinedest]

...

[What about you?]

[It's not a question. It's a command. Tell me who you are, and what you're doing here. If you don't, I'll make things difficult - for you, and for everyone. They know how this game works, by now. And there's no right answer.]

[Just the quietest one.]

Nobody.

[stananigans]

[Stan raises an eyebrow.]

What? C'mon, everybody's somebody.

[He doesn't make any moves to threaten them over it though. He just looks genuinely confused by that tiny declaration.]

[determinedest]

Not me.

[That was...the plan. That was the plan. Disappear, where no one can follow. Where travelers are rumored to never return. Climb a mountain, forget and be forgotten. Forget the bruise on the cheek, the ooze on the knee, the ache in the ribs. Forget all of it, piece by piece, until there's nothing left.]

[Not even a name to be remembered.]

[It's a pity that he seems so sincere. Like he means it. It pulls something out of them, something quietly and painfully sheepish - ]

...sorry.

[stananigans]

[The fact that they apologize for it is even more confusing to him. They must have a name, even if it's something dorky they don't like.]

Hm...well, what do you want me callin' you? I mean, I guess I could call you 'Nobody' but that kinda misses the point, don't it? That's not bein' nobody - that's bein' somebody called Nobody.

[He scratches his head. This is making his brain itch.]

Pretty sure that's right? Ugh, Ford's always been better at this logic shit...

[determinedest]

[He's asking for a name, they know, objectively, but how are they supposed to give it? They don't have any names worth regurgitating - not to him, not to anyone else. The kind of names that fuzz up in their head like static and cut like the sharp edges of crumpled soda cans.]

[No one's asked them that before. What they want to be called.]

[They don't have an answer.]

I don't...um.

[That impassive mask splinters for a moment, into something even more shamed.]

Doesn't - doesn't matter.

[stananigans]

[He scoffs at that, maybe a little more harshly that he means to. He's an abrasive teenager after all.]

Of course it matters - it's your name! I wouldn't let some schmuck run around calling me whatever they wanted!

[...Well. Actually, some people do that anyway, but he always puts up a fight if he knows it's happening.]

[determinedest]

Don't have one.

[A little too quickly, now. He'll know that they're lying. Most grown-ups can tell. Maybe he's not really a grown-up, but he's older than them, and that means he's probably old enough to know when little kids are lying.]

[Maybe he'll make them say it anyway, the way the big kids do.]

[Please. Please don't make them say it.]

[stananigans]

[They're lying. He can tell they are but it's a familiar kind of lie, even if it's not something he's ever lied about before.

It's the kind of lie that comes out when the truth is going to hurt you more to talk about.

He looks at them, unsure how he should take that at first. He's not usually on the receiving end of lies like this, so he looks a little torn about whether he should push it...but, he decides not to. He wouldn't want someone to. Instead he tries something different, in the hopes that he's not going to just make it worse by offering.]

...Do you want one? Somethin' new?

[determinedest]

...like what?

[Their look might be most easily categorizable as "suspicious," though given the closed nature of their hooded eyes, their dropped chin, it might be equally difficult to tell. Regardless, there's a subtle slit of muddied brown peeping out from beneath one lid for a fraction of a second.]

[Studying him.]

[stananigans]

I dunno, uh...

[He hadn't thought quite that far ahead, and he's not the greatest at thinking of things period, but he tries his best.]

...Me and my brother are both Stans, y'know. I'm Stanley and he's Stanford. Our, uh. Our old man wasn't that creative.

[It hurts to say more than he wants to admit, considering what just happened at home. He grips his duffel bag tighter.]

What I'm gettin' at is if you can't think of anybody you wanna be, you can be a Stan too if you want. [He huffs a little bit, as if trying to cover up his attempts at kindness.] I dunno, I guess I ain't that creative either.

[determinedest]

[He has a brother. He's from a family. Where are the rest of them? Why aren't they here now?]

[That's the sort of question people might ask them; a question they wouldn't have an answer to, and a question they know better than to ask if it might be doubled back around and fired at them.]

That's confusing. [Is that too much of a judgment? Too much of a...]

[Maybe too much of a reminder.]

[stananigans]

[A little bit. He does his best laughing it off though.]

Eh, we got used to it. Not like there was much we could do about it anyway. Plus we were...we're twins, so people'll mix us up anyway.

[Not anymore though.

He takes a deep breath and waves his free hand, waving off the whole thing like it doesn't matter. He's all grins and smiles and it's about as good a mask as a sheet of cellophane.]

I get it though - prolly weird to just give yourself the name of the guy you're talking to. We can figure somethin' else out.

[determinedest]

Were.

[Yeah, they caught that little slip there, buddy. Calling that out is about ten times more appealing than talking about themself, so when the weakness is presented to them, they pounce. It's better, far better.]

[In fact, when you cut away the rest of what he says, the way he tries to cover for that use of past tense, it makes this particular route far simpler.]

[stananigans]

[It doesn't occur to him how noticeable that slip was until they point it out. He goes silent for a moment.]

...I dunno. It's complicated, alright?

[He adjusts the bag on his shoulder without thinking much about it, and he won't look at them.]

He's not dead or anything, if that's where you're goin' with it.

[determinedest]

So where is he?

[That's his...the phrase that sometimes people use, though they don't remember the word that prefaces it. Something about a heel. It's the place where you hit hardest, though. They know that much.]

[And hit hard it will, they suspect.]

[stananigans]

[It does. It's a precise kick to the heart. For someone who was so chatty a moment ago, he's pretty quiet now.]

...Back home.

[But home isn't home for Stanley anymore, is it? So he corrects himself.]

At our parents' house.

[determinedest]

[Their head tips to one side. Their expression is flat as the heaviness to their eyes, cupped shut. Maybe, if he peers close enough, he would be able to pick up the nuances of the way their mouth pinches at the corners, and their eyes narrow.]

[It's grim, and it's calculating.]

But you're here.

[Why is that?]

[stananigans]

[He huffs at that. At least that's something he can get indignant about, and he crosses his arms.]

So're you - what's your point, Short Stuff?

[It's a dare. If they're going to try and drag what he was doing before this Wonderland nonsense out of him, then he'll turn around and do the same. They seemed pretty reluctant to talk before, so maybe it'll actually work.

Either it'll work or he just dug both their graves here.]

[determinedest]

[A long moment.]

[They're here too. Don't know why. They climbed a mountain, and prepared to fall, the way so many people before them must have. There was just...a great big hole, gapped in the center of the summit, and an infinite nothingness stretching down beneath.]

[But they climbed alone.]

You're not used to being alone.

[stananigans]

[He still has his arms crossed, but the tension falls out of his body. His shoulders slump.]

...Not really, no. It was supposed to be us forever, and now. It's not.

[Stan still can't fathom what his life is going to be now. This all just happened and he has nothing else to bank on.]

[determinedest]

Why not?

[This, this is easier. This is something they can do. They can...they can make this about someone else. Someone else's problems. Someone else's fears. Someone else's pain, and regret, and resentment.]

[It's easier than living with their own.]

[stananigans]

[He's still not too keen on sharing his life story, but the nosy prodding gets just a little more out of him.]

I, uh. I made a mistake. Pissed everyone off.

[Ruined literally everything he ever wanted but he's fine.]