* Despite everything, it's still you. (
determinedest) wrote in
entrancelogs2016-02-08 10:46 pm
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just keep your head held high [open]
Who: Frisk and whoever
Where: Gravity Falls, mostly in the wooded areas
When: February 5th-9th, pick one
Rating: PG-13 for gore and violence because Chara is a Bad Influence
Summary: Baby's first event.
The Story: Beneath the cut, yo.
February 5th - 8th; always look on the wild side of life
February 9th; gnome pun intended
[ooc: as usual, prefer prose but will but will bracket if desired. Feb. 9th will pretty much require a rescue, but unless it's going to be a group effort I'd like to keep that to one thread since different multiple rescue attempts is confusing (and nonsensical, narratively).]
Where: Gravity Falls, mostly in the wooded areas
When: February 5th-9th, pick one
Rating: PG-13 for gore and violence because Chara is a Bad Influence
Summary: Baby's first event.
The Story: Beneath the cut, yo.
February 5th - 8th; always look on the wild side of life
There are an awful lot of animals. Some of them speckled deer that remind them of the gyftrot they'd befriended (and in some cases, killed), others patterned or sized in such a way that leads Frisk to wonder whether that's really the general way for animals on the surface. Not very many of them talk, but plenty respond to patience and encouraging smiles and a soft clucking sound with their tongue. They seem used to humans. They must be, considering the kind of place this is. It's not Wonderland, but it didn't take Frisk long to theorize that this must be one of the events Sans mentioned.
A few days in the woods isn't so bad. So Frisk meanders and wanders without much purpose to their trail. There was a building a way back, and they'd woken up with a fat wallet in their pocket (paper bills, crisp and crinkling, so utterly unlike the round heavy gold coins traded and spent in the Underground), but it hadn't entirely interested them. Too many people in once place, too many humans especially, and in any case, there are woods that need exploring.
A few days in the woods isn't so bad. So Frisk meanders and wanders without much purpose to their trail. There was a building a way back, and they'd woken up with a fat wallet in their pocket (paper bills, crisp and crinkling, so utterly unlike the round heavy gold coins traded and spent in the Underground), but it hadn't entirely interested them. Too many people in once place, too many humans especially, and in any case, there are woods that need exploring.
February 9th; gnome pun intended
It'd been really nice, honestly, to get to see some monsters again. Even if they weren't the monsters Frisk was used to, they still deviated from the human norm, and it had gotten to the point that this was simply what was most comfortable for them. Petting a few here, befriending a few there, and then they'd made the mistake of quirking their eyebrows and wiggling their hips in the flirtatious if incredibly juvenile way (this is how people flirt, right?) that had gotten them out of plenty of scrapes back in the Underground. Maybe it wouldn't have been so heinous, if they hadn't happened to perform this little display to a group of what appeared to be animate garden gnomes.
Now, well, now Frisk is pretty sure they've been inducted into a marriage ceremony of some sort, a gaggle of pointy hats streaming this way and that, and now a few of them seem to be caught up in a heated debate over what kind of title would be bestowed upon the future spouse of gnome's vague approximation of a leader.
Before Frisk can get another word in, a few of tiny hands seize theirs and the whole lot of them start more or less towing Frisk back to, presumably, their no place like gnome. As soon as Frisk realizes what that might mean - flirt they might, but they're pretty certain marriage is meant to happen to people older than twelve - they begin to struggle, but it turns out gnomes are awfully strong, particularly when they work together like that. Frisk squirms, thrashes, pretends to comply before trying to bolt again - all to no avail. Yelling for help isn't something they're especially good at. They can't typically speak louder than a mumble on a good day.
But fill their lungs they must and fill their lungs they do, until finally they manage a single, wordless cry of fear and indignation.
Now, well, now Frisk is pretty sure they've been inducted into a marriage ceremony of some sort, a gaggle of pointy hats streaming this way and that, and now a few of them seem to be caught up in a heated debate over what kind of title would be bestowed upon the future spouse of gnome's vague approximation of a leader.
Before Frisk can get another word in, a few of tiny hands seize theirs and the whole lot of them start more or less towing Frisk back to, presumably, their no place like gnome. As soon as Frisk realizes what that might mean - flirt they might, but they're pretty certain marriage is meant to happen to people older than twelve - they begin to struggle, but it turns out gnomes are awfully strong, particularly when they work together like that. Frisk squirms, thrashes, pretends to comply before trying to bolt again - all to no avail. Yelling for help isn't something they're especially good at. They can't typically speak louder than a mumble on a good day.
But fill their lungs they must and fill their lungs they do, until finally they manage a single, wordless cry of fear and indignation.
[ooc: as usual, prefer prose but will but will bracket if desired. Feb. 9th will pretty much require a rescue, but unless it's going to be a group effort I'd like to keep that to one thread since different multiple rescue attempts is confusing (and nonsensical, narratively).]
no subject
Now he's the one whose eyes widen, and he stays still for a moment, holding his breath. He's undecided if they should approach or hang back and watch, and part of him doesn't want to make the first move and have it be the wrong choice.
After a second, he lets out his breath in silence before murmuring, "That's them?"
It's more of a statement than a question, but confirmation can't hurt.
no subject
So far the fairies either don't notice they're being pseudo-stalked or don't care. They keep bobbing idly in place like a collection of beaded Christmas lights, illuminating the clearing with a soft multicolored glow.
no subject
Things seem to be going well enough, until a twig snaps under his foot. It's probably not as loud as it seems to him when it happens, but he still freezes and his eyes dart between Frisk and the lights a few times.
no subject
They straighten up, expression glowing.
"I almost touched one," they whisper, almost reverently. "Did you see?"
no subject
"Yeah. What was it like?"
He'll apologize for scaring them off in a moment.
no subject
"A little warm," they say after a moment of consideration. "Like touching a lightbulb." They'd felt the heat emanating off those wafer-thin wings a split second before they'd all gone whizzing into the shadows.
no subject
"Sorry for startling them."
He looks in the direction they fled in, considering. They probably won't be so easy to find or sneak up on again, but he'll leave it up to Frisk whether or not they give up here.
"Do you want to try again?"
no subject
But they flash Souji a grin, pleased nonetheless. "Thanks."
no subject
Stan is probably wondering where the heck he wandered off to, and Souji feels odd about leaving Frisk here alone at this point.
"I can tell you more about the TV world."
no subject
They probably shouldn't stray too far from that central hub. Frisk retreats from the clearing. They're not entirely sure where the mansion is from here, exactly, but hopefully Souji has some idea.
no subject
"There were a lot of interesting things in the TV world. We called them shadows, but that was kind of a catch-all term."
no subject
"Shadows," Frisk repeats thoughtfully. "The things you saw there, or the people?"
no subject
Though there are notable exceptions.
no subject
*You CALL for help...
They refrain from mentioning it. There don't seem to be SOULs here, anyway.
"So...what do they do, then?"
no subject
Souji wasn't sure he would have killed so many shadows if it weren't for the fact that they attacked him in most cases. There was also the fact that anyone who wasn't prepared to fight them would be brutally killed, and such people had a way of ending up in that world.
"They have more potential than that, though. A good friend of mine is a Shadow who was able to develop beyond that level."
no subject
They perk up a bit. "Are they here, in Wonderland?"