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determinedest) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-08-21 02:05 pm
determinedest) wrote in entrancelogs2016-08-21 02:05 pm
Entry tags:
- dangan ronpa: mikan tsumiki,
- gravity falls: bill cipher,
- gravity falls: dipper pines,
- gravity falls: stanley pines,
- harry potter: sirius black,
- lucifer: lucifer morningstar,
- mass effect: commander shepard,
- mass effect: legion,
- persona 4: seta souji,
- steven universe: peridot,
- uncharted: nathan drake,
- undertale: asgore dreemurr,
- undertale: chara,
- undertale: frisk,
- undertale: napstablook,
- undertale: toriel
it's hard to lose a chosen one [open]
Who: Frisk (+ potential bonus Chara) and YOU!
Where: In your room. Yes, your room.
When: August 21st - August 23rd
Rating: PG? PG-13? these threads always end up bouncing all over the place. Will adjust if needed.
Summary: There's a small child in your room. Maybe they're going through your personal effects without any regards for privacy. Look, this is perfectly socially acceptable behavior in an RPG, all right?
The Story:
The past few days have been a gross unbalancing of their equilibrium, and Frisk has made the unilateral decision that they need something to help them reach that sense of stability again. Too much time has been spent lying on the floor of their room, sometimes with Chara, sometimes alone, enjoying the nonexistent fruits of Napstablook's patented "Lying On The Floor And Feeling Like Garbage" coping technique.
Eventually, they get to their feet. And then they begin to wander.
They try random doors along every hallway. Step inside the room if the door should be unlocked - or they may recruit their partner to open the door if they so choose (Do you want to see how many rooms we can break into? Frisk may or may not have asked while they lay on the floor and contemplated the ceiling paint job. And, Sure, Chara may or may not have answered, because it meant doing something other than simply feeling like useless trash for days on end.)
The point is, there's a kid in your room now. There might even be two. They're going through your stuff, looking through desk drawers, reading diaries, opening dressers, checking under beds. It's not like this sort of behavior was ever really criticized back in the Underground. People had no problem with them walking into their rooms and taking their sweet time poking around.
So, you know, don't even worry about it.
[ooc: feel free to specify the date you'd like this child to enter your room and whether or not you'd like the Frisk-Chara bonus combo! PM me here, message me on AIM at arcaneswearwords or contact me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
arrpee if you want to discuss what Frisk may find if you want them to go through your character's private belongings - they won't discover anything you don't want them to!]
Where: In your room. Yes, your room.
When: August 21st - August 23rd
Rating: PG? PG-13? these threads always end up bouncing all over the place. Will adjust if needed.
Summary: There's a small child in your room. Maybe they're going through your personal effects without any regards for privacy. Look, this is perfectly socially acceptable behavior in an RPG, all right?
The Story:
The past few days have been a gross unbalancing of their equilibrium, and Frisk has made the unilateral decision that they need something to help them reach that sense of stability again. Too much time has been spent lying on the floor of their room, sometimes with Chara, sometimes alone, enjoying the nonexistent fruits of Napstablook's patented "Lying On The Floor And Feeling Like Garbage" coping technique.
Eventually, they get to their feet. And then they begin to wander.
They try random doors along every hallway. Step inside the room if the door should be unlocked - or they may recruit their partner to open the door if they so choose (Do you want to see how many rooms we can break into? Frisk may or may not have asked while they lay on the floor and contemplated the ceiling paint job. And, Sure, Chara may or may not have answered, because it meant doing something other than simply feeling like useless trash for days on end.)
The point is, there's a kid in your room now. There might even be two. They're going through your stuff, looking through desk drawers, reading diaries, opening dressers, checking under beds. It's not like this sort of behavior was ever really criticized back in the Underground. People had no problem with them walking into their rooms and taking their sweet time poking around.
So, you know, don't even worry about it.
[ooc: feel free to specify the date you'd like this child to enter your room and whether or not you'd like the Frisk-Chara bonus combo! PM me here, message me on AIM at arcaneswearwords or contact me at
no subject
"Sure," says Frisk lightly, with a shrug. "I've always wanted to learn how to read music."
They think it must be more difficult than some arrows hovering over a statue in arcane patterns while a music box plays.
no subject
Ha ha, oh well!
"Reading music's easy. It's like numbers, except it's letters instead. Also the alphabet only goes to G, and C's usually the big letter you center yourself around instead of A." Not that there's anything wrong with A. C's just... more of a 1 than A is. Very straightforward and easy to get, you see.
"Unless you're playing guitar, I guess?" There'd been a time when Asriel had been interested in guitar - the thought vaguely stirs a familiar melody in their heart, an acoustic-guitar undercurrent melting together seamlessly with piano as monsterkind told a story in New Home's empty halls. They swallow it down, shake it away. "Then you can get stuff written in tab, whatever that means." They never got to find out - sheet music wasn't the kind of thing that trickled down into Waterfall's dump intact too often. "Frisk, uh. Which instrument were you planning on, again?"
no subject
They put a nub on the closet door and take a second to picture exactly what they want. When the supply is literally limitless, there's no point really in starting with a cheaper model. And for Chara, well, might as well start with the classics. They pull out a cherrywood soprano ukelele as well as a CD and reference manual, handing each to their intended recipients.
"here, um.... if you want to start practicing"
no subject
"Ukelele," they breathe in confirmation, nodding. "I've...always wanted to learn. I mean, not always, but I think it'd be cool to learn? I...didn't know you could read music, though."
Did they? Chara could play piano (it was Chara who could play, right? ...right?), but the glyphlike arrows suspended over a music box weren't quite the same as actually reading music, were they?
no subject
Their brain itches.
They decide not to think about it.
Instead, they hold up the book Napstablook handed to them. (Ha ha, a Napstabook!) "I can't believe," they blurt reverently, "I'm holding a guide that literally teaches you to scream. Ukulele, theremin, and horrible unholy screeching. Our sound is going to be amazing, isn't it?"
They're all going to sound like Collective Death, probably.
no subject
They look at Chara for a moment, then they softly sing back
"...oooOOOooo ooo ooo-ooo ooo
...you played that on the theremin too, where is it from? it sounds.... familiar, haha....
and, yeah, i think it could work haha"
no subject
They're pinning an expiration date on this project before it even really gets off the ground, just based on the people involved, but it's fun to pretend. They're not sure if Chara's...just really good at music, maybe? Maybe they've got perfect pitch. Either way, the chiming sounds made by a music box under the rain almost feel like they're ghosting in (ha ha) behind the words. Almost.
"It's a song you might've heard in Waterfall," Frisk adds softly in Napstablook's direction, running their fingertips over the contours of the ukulele so they have an excuse to not look at them. "In, um...a music box."
no subject
No reason for anyone to know that particular melody by heart. Just a convenient puzzle solution.
"Before the road that lets you see New Home," they add. The patter of rain on umbrellas. A monster's sunny, cheerful face beaming at their friend. The distant chiming of a music box filling you with determination.
Parts of Frisk's story. Part of the present, not the past. Doesn't mean anything anymore. Just like the memorial fountain Mettaton made into a punchline.
no subject
"oh, yeah, i uh.... i know that statue.... once i went there with shyr-"
they try to move the subject to an easier topic, but they made a mistake in choice of anecdote apparently, because now her name is stuck in their throat as they remember calling it out, looking for her among the evacuated monsters.
She wasn't there.
"i um. i...."
They stammer, trying not to let this train of thought show. This isn't how a polite host acts at all.
no subject
Ah.
Frisk hastens to settle upon a different topic, once that's less liable to make Chara or Napstablook sad. That music box is too tangled in bad or wistful memories for the pair of them, and things were - things were going so well.
(Did they sing to her before they did it? Did a hooded figure watch from afar as they hummed alongside her, watched her confidence and shy smile bloom before twisting, pirouetting neatly on the spot to swipe one Ballet Shoe-clad foot through her body and watched it disintegrate into dust?)
"Well, it's a really pretty melody," says Frisk, too loudly and too brightly and too obviously trying to divert the pair's attention. "Maybe we can learn some others, though."
no subject
Chara smiles. Recalls that playing along with her made Knight Knight and her Morningstar easier to put out of commission. Decides not to recall anything more than that.
"I'm bored of this," they remark suddenly, flatly. "Frisk, let's get out of here."
Never should have played that song at all, even if it's one of the precious few they actually know how to play by memory. Should have... should have done Hot Cross Buns, or some other stupid song that means nothing at all. What ever gave them the right to drag a memory into this? All it did was sour the mood.
no subject
"oh... um.... ok.... sorry..."
no subject
Ha ha, "shy".
"We're sorry," they mouth at Napstablook, inaudibly. We're sorry.
Frisk is, anyway.