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]

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.]

[determinedest]

Like your twin.

[That takes things a step further. It's not merely some question, some means of prodding him for answers. It's a snipe, plain and simple. It's mean to unbalance.]

[And unbalance they hope it will.]

[stananigans]

...Yeah. Like Ford.

[It does unbalance him. He's been trying hard to put this whole thing out of his mind, but how is he supposed to do that when every little thing reminds him of what just happened?]

[determinedest]

[He's not plying at them for answers of their own anymore. It worked. Now the question is simply one of...getting rid of him.]

Why don't you go find him?