...Haha. Totally on the same wavelength, aren't they? Even with Chara's lips tightly sealed, Frisk asks about Wonderland's CORE entirely on their own.
That's a little bit terrifying.
"It's just asking. It's not against the law to think things or ask things," they say, and they don't know if they say it for their own benefit or for Frisk's. "But acting on it is... just because you know doesn't mean you have to use it. Acting on it is a whole other choice entirely."
Chara just locks their gaze on their tightly interlocked hands. Two sets of bony fingers wrapped together. One thing that fits, has always fit, always will fit. They've got that. It trumps any thoughts of being the wrong Chara, or not being Chara at all, or searing frustration at the irrational, nonsensical nature of everything around them. Anchors them away from the edge of a CORE. Both of them.
Frisk's here.
That's what matters.
* It's us.
They smile faintly. "Are... we okay now?" It's not quite the right word they want, because "okay" and all its various synonyms have all become weighted with irony and self-deprecation, but they don't know a better word to use. They're probably a far cry from okay, all things considered, probably always will be. But... this much, at least? No tears, no trembles, no anger? A decision to let it rest, focus on something more comprehensible and binding?
no subject
That's a little bit terrifying.
"It's just asking. It's not against the law to think things or ask things," they say, and they don't know if they say it for their own benefit or for Frisk's. "But acting on it is... just because you know doesn't mean you have to use it. Acting on it is a whole other choice entirely."
Chara just locks their gaze on their tightly interlocked hands. Two sets of bony fingers wrapped together. One thing that fits, has always fit, always will fit. They've got that. It trumps any thoughts of being the wrong Chara, or not being Chara at all, or searing frustration at the irrational, nonsensical nature of everything around them. Anchors them away from the edge of a CORE. Both of them.
Frisk's here.
That's what matters.
* It's us.
They smile faintly. "Are... we okay now?" It's not quite the right word they want, because "okay" and all its various synonyms have all become weighted with irony and self-deprecation, but they don't know a better word to use. They're probably a far cry from okay, all things considered, probably always will be. But... this much, at least? No tears, no trembles, no anger? A decision to let it rest, focus on something more comprehensible and binding?