black then white are all i see in my infancy [closed + open]

[determinedest]

Who: Frisk and a few closed prompts + a few open ones!
Where: Alphys's lab, by the vendors, maybe more?
When: 11/01 - 11/08-ish (may be subject to change)
Rating: PG-13 for children in peril, suicide ideation, depressive mindset, and bad decisions
Summary: Shit happened. Someone give this cast an intervention.
The Story:

[A hot oil-slick of numbers running through their mind in a burning cacophony does not lend itself to anything but pain, bright and blazing. It cuts into their teeth and their tongue and the inside of their cheeks - or maybe that is simply them biting deep into the flesh in their mouth to taste the warm tang of it to remind themself that they are not simply numbers they are not simply numbers they are not simply numbers they are real.

It crests in a burgeoning wave. There is no tide there is no pattern there is no regularity there is no respite it simply is and it tears through them, every jerk and wrench of their body shuddering in its place like hot marks shearing them open.

They can taste blood.

Is it yours?

Or mine?

It does not matter.]

Comments

[fulllifeconsequences]

[They've never been to the vendors before. Nor have they spend so much time alone with Alphys since she struck them down for her crimes, unless you counted moments where the universe itself became something different.

Maybe they should be nervous about it.

They don't really feel anything at all.

There's nothing but numbness and ringing in their ears as they walk toward their destination, seeing but not really perceiving the crowded bazaar-esque stalls. They stop mechanically, blink hard like they're trying to clear something out of their head, breathe deep. Frisk needs this. They look around aimlessly, like they've forgotten where Alphys is, like they've forgotten people exist at all.

Focus.

Frisk needs this.]

I don't know what it looks like. I'll pay, but you have to get it.

[sciencelizard]

[She's still running off of pure anxiety, over the things she's seen, over what's been explained, over what she needs to do. It's something she's uniquely qualified for, which is ridiculous, because in her mind she's never been qualified for anything. But, haha, she's here now! Here, with them, because Frisk needs this. Because they're all put where they don't want to be but they have to.

So she swallows, looks fervently around the bazaar, tries to lay her eyes on anything, trying to find it in the display.]

Okay. Uhm, here. W-Walk with me. I can find it.

[It's probably the most certain they've ever seen her, but she walks, eyes darting back and forth, starting and stopping a few times for plans, but not plans that are hers, until she sees them, in the back of a stall, puts her hands down on the table in a way that she hopes looks authoritative and not desperate, pointing mostly for Chara's sake.]

T-There! That's them. I know it.

[fulllifeconsequences]

[Their objective has been located.]

We'll take that.

[Chara announces to the vendor, in a tone that brooks no argument. The vendor raises their eyebrows, leans on the counter.]

Will you? Stock from your own world is very expensive, you know. This isn't just some common scrap of paper. This is something that should not be here.

[Chara's expression does not change.]

Don't care. We'll pay.

[Apparently, exactly what the vendor was hoping to hear. They smile.]

We don't deal in money around here, you know. You want these plans? You pay for them with something more valuable. You pay in Wonderland currency.

[sciencelizard]

[She's a little bit thankful they're united under such a common goal, because she'd have no idea how to talk to them otherwise. How to do anything about this at all. But she speaks just after the vendor does, her mind still going a mile a minute.]

Memories. You... you w-want memories.

[She looks to Chara, fearful.]

A-Are you sure you want to do this? I can find something, or. M-Maybe we can both give something smaller, or...

[She doesn't know how this works. Doesn't pretend to know how any of it works. But she has a lot of experience in not remembering. Doesn't want to add this burden to Chara if she doesn't have to.]

[fulllifeconsequences]

Shut up, [Chara tells Alphys, helpfully.

Like they have the luxury of refusing. Like they can make Frisk suffer like that, then decide that sacrificing something it too much to bother with. They've sunk to subhuman, disgusting lows, but they will not make themselves into a hypocrite where justice is involved. They made this happen, they accept the consequences.]

I'll pay.

[Again, the vendor raises their eyebrows, palms flat against the counter as they eagerly press in.]

You realize, of course, that I hold all the cards here. Blueprints for something this potent... I think it's only fair I get my pick of memories for that, hm? Of course, if you don't like that, you could always look for some other bluepr-

[Chara cuts them off. Unnecessary dialogue. Skip. Don't hesitate, don't think fleetingly of a memory, a Memory, of small white paws helping them up and showing them the sort of kindness nobody else ever had.

Forgetting wouldn't hurt anyone. Everyone's moved on. Found a newer, better future, the friend they always wished they'd had. If it's to protect that future, to try and compensate for rending it asunder, then anyone would say it's worth it.]

I said I'll pay, and I'm going to pay.

[They don't have any use for memories anyway.]

...Alphys. Don't tell Frisk about this.

[sciencelizard]

[She snaps her mouth shut immediately at the command. They're... haha, they're determined to do this, aren't they? In a way, it's admirable. She can see them there like Sailor Moon, giving up the Millennium Crystal and their very soul to protect their best friend. Every good magical girl story has that great culmination of self-sacrifice, as the protagonist walks into the inevitable, with only their selflessness and the knowledge that they're helping the world.

It also... is a little jarring, she realizes, to be thinking of Chara as this selfless protector. She knew they were close with Frisk but this is...

Well, it really means something, doesn't it? About the way she views them. About maybe the way she should view them.

They bring her back to reality, like permission to respond, and the fact that she's back to keeping secrets doesn't even cross her mind.]

Okay. We, uhm, w-wouldn't want to worry them.

[She sort of... shuffles to the side a bit. Gives them space, but reaches a little awkwardly like she's trying to give them some sort of support but really, really doesn't know how.]

I'm sorry.

[fulllifeconsequences]

[They step away from her reach. Don't like touch. Don't need someone who hates them to try and muster up some obligation-pity.]

You're not sorry. You didn't even do anything.

["Sorry" is just a word people say. Over and over, at anyone and everything, until it ceases to have any meaning. "Sorry" doesn't change the world one bit.]

Just hurry up and take it.

[The last part is delivered to the vendor. They nod, and. Uh. DO A THING.

Something cold pricks up the back of Chara's neck as a memory rises unbidden...

They're barely conscious by this point. They don't have the energy anymore to be angry at their body. To resent how long it's taking to die, to despise how it keeps tenaciously refusing to give out even as organs shut down and breath becomes shallow and raspy, forced out of a blistered, raw throat. How much luckier monsters must be, to be made only of love and magic. To not cling so persistently to an existence that isn't even wanted. It's horrible, how much the human body can endure before it dies.

"Chara... Can you hear me?" Toriel's voice. The words were fuzzy at the time, unable to penetrate the fog of their exhausted in-and-out drift. They only come clearly now thanks to an old VHS tape, watched through eyes that weren't even theirs. "We want you to wake up..." She implores, softly, desperately.

Many many years later, a vestige in the back of another child's mind wondered if maybe, somehow, she knew that they could tell nobody wanted them to wake up. Not after that pie they made. Not with everyone's freedom resting on a single human SOUL.

"Chara! You have to stay determined!" Asgore's voice next, and it comes with such vehemence that it breaks through their half-aware stupor. Eyes crack open, awful jaundiced fingers twitch, throat feels stuffed with cotton, feels painful and dried-out and cracked like a wasteland. They cough. Breathing is hard. It hurts. Existing hurts.

He takes their hand, they think. No telltale blisters for his paws to find. Asriel was the one who got the flowers. Asriel fetched them when Chara couldn't leave their bed. Asriel fed them to Chara when they got so disgusting and pathetic they couldn't handle that one basic task. Nobody has to know that this was on purpose. Nobody has to blame themself. Asriel understands. They'll free everyone.

"You can't give up," Asgore tells them. He's right. They have to be strong. "You are the future of humans and monsters," Asgore says. Everyone is counting on this.

They have to do this.

They have to.

It's the last thought they can muster before they go limp, and things go dark for the last time.

They're already dying when a tiny voice whispers, "Psst... Chara... please... wake up..."


"I don't like this plan anymore."

And like a bubble, the memory bursts, scatters into ephemeral, prismatic spray. It's gone.

The vendor smiles and straightens up.]

Thank you very much, then!

[They neatly step to the back, pluck the plans free, and spread them tidily on the counter.]

As agreed, here you go. Do come again!

[sciencelizard]

[She is sorry, more than she can express, because it's become a catch-all term for her own mistakes and for the suffering of others. She's sorry they have to do this. She's sorry for her inaction, that they pay the price she can't fix, even if they're not letting her. She's sorry they're so backed into a corner that they have to lose something of theirs.

She's sorry she can't help more, despite the fact that they're getting the plans to allow her to save Frisk. Because she's sorry she can't do it all on her own.

She deserves it, right? For being a bad person. And here's Chara fixing her mistakes. Of all people. Chara.

Well, they're not really helping her, now are they? They're doing it for Frisk. Someone better. Someone deserving.

But she watches, quietly, lips pursed into a fine line and eyes averted, before the vendor finally speaks and her eyes snap between the vendor and Chara, making sure they're not going to collapse or otherwise be hindered as she hurriedly takes the blueprints, as if she fears the vendor will change their mind.]

Are y-you okay? Do you need help g-getting back, or, anything?

[fulllifeconsequences]

[They don't know why she's bothering to linger. They don't even know what they lost. They think they've forgotten something, but... ha ha, there's no phantom pain if it's a clean enough amputation, right? You won't even notice it's not there.

...Guess it's not really much of a penance at all, in retrospect.

They don't bother to look at Alphys. They know she's not making eye contact, and they know that red eyes are scary. Why bother.]

Don't you have something more important to be doing right now, doctor? Every second that's wasted on unnecessary things is another second Frisk has to suffer.

[sciencelizard]

[She does look at them, when they speak. Thinks this would be the time in any show, where two negatives come together for the greater good, where a character says something that begins to build their friendship. Where she would fix it, somehow, and apologize for everything she'd done, for her own faults, and they wouldn't have to forgive her now, but it would be... something. Anything. To make them feel more secure. To make her feel less like a failure.]

Frisk doesn't t-think you're unnecessary. And they wouldn't be happy again if they lost you.

[It's not reassuring. It's not even loud. But she knows it's true.]

I can call Toriel to come be with you. If you, if you d-don't want to be alone.

[fulllifeconsequences]

I'm fine.

[It comes out forcefully, less brushing-off and more a full-body tackle. But why is she wasting time pitying them? They're the one who did something bad. If she has time for sympathy, then it should be going toward Frisk - toward the one who actually deserves it. They have no right to take up anyone's time, let alone someone important to making Frisk feel better.]

It's just a memory. Who cares? Nobody ever died from forgetting something.

I'll be okay on my own. Hurry up and get to work. Frisk's counting on you, not me.

[sciencelizard]

[She has the ability to pity both of you, you know. She's been doing it quietly for months. But she grits her teeth, thinks about how much she's forgotten, how much she wishes it would be good for someone else one day. That even they can turn her shortcomings into martyrdom where she could never be so useful.

So she exhales, mostly to steady herself.]

Okay. I'm gonna... g-go, and, uhm. Be safe, okay? Let Toriel know if you don't feel alright.

[She tries to smile, and it comes out more genuine then she thought.]

Thank you.

[And off she scurries, clutching the blueprints to her like a lifeline, off to her lab as fast as she can go.]