lifeaftr | Let's Go In The Garden

Entry tags:

Let's Go In The Garden

Who: Chara, Frisk, and you!
What: Two kids enjoy a classic tale, and a small child decides to intrude on everyone’s personal space.
When: November 13-15th
Where: Near the Storyteller’s Temple, and across the Islets
Warnings: Potential CW for self-harm in the third prompt.

You’ll Find Something Waiting -- 13th

[Just because it’s overcast doesn’t mean that today isn’t still warm. The greatest reprieve to the heat at the height of the day is the ocean breeze sweeping up across the beach and through the trees around the Storyteller’s Temple. It makes for a peaceful area to stop for a while- to sit and think, to wander, to nap. Undoubtedly, a few people would take advantage of this, over the course of the day

Those travelling to and from the islets may hear the voice of one such person relatively close to the mana pool. Their words seem almost practised, spoken in a tone that is almost caught up in what they have to say, almost reverent.]

Yuichi and I are climbing a ladder in the jet-black gloom. Together, we peer into the cauldron of hell. We stare into the bubbling red sea of fire, and the air hitting our faces is so hot it makes us reel…

[A curious person might decide to follow the voice. It wouldn’t take long. And in doing so, they’d come across two children, one reclining against a tree with a well-loved book in hand, carefully holding the pages. The child known as Kidwun continues to read aloud, whilst their Partner….

The child known as Kittu seems to have dozed off. Head in their sibling’s lap, they take no notice of anyone approaching.

Chara does. And whilst their eyes flick up from the pages of the book itself, they continue speaking- continue reading a story that, apparently, they don’t really need the book to read aloud, anymore.]

But the place we are in right now is just too dreadful. It is not a place where two people can make a life together.

Although I had been earnestly daydreaming until then, I suddenly started to laugh. “I see two lovers standing over the edge of the cauldron to hell. Are they contemplating a double suicide? This means their love will end in hell.”

I couldn’t stop laughing.

Right There Where You Left It -- 13 to the 15th

There’s a child with a mission, stalking across the island. Knocking on doors and approaching anyone who doesn’t quite belong in this realm. Not keen on talking with them? Tough, really. If anything, it’s those who seem to be going out of their way to step around them that Chara haunts the most, insistently dogging their heels until they give up, and deal with what the child has to say.

This is their time to shine, after all. Their time, to do what they do best.

“Forgive my intrusion, but may I steal a moment of your time? I would like to ask you a few questions.”

Ignore any signs they’re unwelcome in their continued endeavors to be as invasive as possible.

[[OOC: there’s a handy little OOC post for this; if you haven’t checked it out yet, please do, even if you’d like to thread a conversation!]]

Everything Stays, But It Still Changes -- early mornings, 13th to 15th

If the past six weeks have proven anything, it is that Chara has a weakness they can no longer ignore. Guzma has made mention of it. Connor has made mention of it. More than once, this gap of experience has nearly led to their doom… so perhaps it’s time to do something about it.

Sneaking away from their hut in the early morning, Chara chooses a section of beach that’s not too far from the Storyteller’s temple, but not too close. If they make a serious error, a call for help may still prove fortuitous… and hopefully, no one will stumble across them otherwise. For several minutes, Chara stands at the shoreline. Simply staring out at the waves as they lose themself in thought.

Then they make a face, and pull off their shoes. The knife strapped to their hip follows… and four more after it, stowed away in their pack and carefully hidden from view. The last, important piece? A heart-shaped locket, stowed away in their left shoe. Even if someone were to make their way into their pack without Chara noticing, they wouldn’t find that.

Heaven help them if they did.

And that is all the excuses they have to stall, before avoiding what they must do becomes innate procrastination. Expression still sour, the child steps into the waves, deeper and deeper. When the water reaches their chest, they stop, once again looking about carefully, just to ensure that absolutely no one is watching.

Hours later, they don’t really care. Flopping about in the waves, Chara is clearly making- an attempt at….something. Kicking off the ground and flailing their arms and legs, until they inevitably sink below the surface.

So anyway learning to swim unassisted is going Super Well.

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[Him. Whilst they aren't particularly pleased in being caught out like this- not by this man- they had been meaning to follow up after... everything, smile fixed

and eyes narrowing considerably the moment his gaze rests on Frisk, however briefly.]

It is simply the way of things. Although, some would say it depends on your definition of love.

Oh?

[He tilted his head at the reactiion, but focused fully on Chara instead as he folded his arms.]

I don't understand what you mean; don't all forms of love inevitably end the same way regardless?

Some would say that love- in terms of companionship, family, etcetera- is more inclined to end on better roads. Whilst that’s debatable, there is another variation that has a much more concrete answer.

Have you ever heard that LOVE is an acronym, sir?

I've not heard anything of the sort, in fact. And just between us, that's quite the accomplishment.

By all means, my dear--why don't you educate me?

[They are used to a very specific response, when it comes to this topic. Namely the response of someone from their world, someone who understands what the implications are. The genuine threat behind such things.

Ardyn, of course, is not one of those people.]

Where I come from, some people say that LOVE stands for Level of Violence.

[Eos had more than its share of things offworlders would find completely insane, but gods forbid Ardyn actually compare the two. He was busy quickly hiding a snort of laughter behind his hand.]

...Oh good heavens, you're serious.

[Oh go back to your starscourge, mister I'm-Wearing-Legwarmers-Over-My-Boots.]

Perfectly serious, sir. Is there something funny about it?

[listen they're both good band names, okay]

Oh, not at all. I just confess myself somewhat confused as to why the term's a necessary one.

[read: it's hilarious]

[Level of Violence and Starscurge, two bands with a rivalry that spans the ages. You could make an AU out of that. Closing their book, they set it down carefully next to Frisk, giving him their full, unimpressed, attention.]

Stories say it is meant as a method of quantifying your capacity to hurt others. How inclined you are to kill. It is said that the higher your body count, the more corrupted your SOUL.

But that's just a story.

[That got another short laugh out of Ardyn, just a bit more derisive and cold.]

Your world's stories require measurements for the corruption in one's soul? How very interesting.

Every world fixates on something beyond the realm of casual observation, sir.

[Mortals liked to have their silly beliefs; something that could neither be proved or disproved. Perhaps he's familiar with the concept.]

Souls just happen to be the fixation in ours.

I do suppose that makes sense. My own is scarcely any different in that respect,even without such a specific term for homicidal tendencies.

Perhaps you could share with me some of the more preposterous ideals, then.

[Please, share away. Tell them about magical boybands and forgotten kings.]

Hm...well, regarding the matter of souls, there is one concept which comes to mind.

[you asked for it]

Legend has it that the power of a particular kingdom in my world is built in part upon the king's predecessors; in other words, that the current ruler's strength and proficiency is drawn from the channeled souls of his ancestors.

We have that, too. Kind of.

[Had they not spoken, it might have been difficult to tell that the child resting their head in Kidwun's lap had stirred at all. As it is, their eyes remain heavily lidded, hands folded placidly over their middle; but their voice is awake and clear, as though they've been awake and listening for a while.]

It's how some monsters age.

[Frisk cuts in before they have a chance, switching up the game, somewhat. Their eyes stray from Ardyn down to their Partner, raising a hand to play with their hair as Chara waits to hear the man's response.

This isn't precisely the type of person they wanted you to interact with, Frisk.]

My, is that right? [Ardyn tilted his head slightly, considering the matter for a second or two.]

The power of kings is a terrible drain upon the king in question; in fact, the conduit through which they channel their bloodline causes quite a bit of damage to their body itself over time. I can't say it's specifically how they age, but it certainly doesn't help.

[They don't look at Ardyn even once as he replies, their gaze trained lazily upwards, but they don't do it to be intentionally rude; as Chara cards their bangs back, a thoughtful knit can be seen in their eyebrows.]

It's different. The monster parents give their life force so their kids can grow up.

[They glance up at their Partner, as if seeking confirmation between the two of them -- though there's no guarantee that Chara would have been able to notice any real aging in Asgore and Toriel for the comparatively short time they were with the Dreemurrs. And then, of course, to cover their tracks:]

But we've never seen it.

[In almost absolute unison, their gaze drifts to Frisk, meeting their eyes without even the slightest hint of surprise. No motion aside from that -- but there's hardly a warning to it.]

It is said, however, that without offspring, the monster could live forever.

That sounds...

[...what? So simplistic that it was contrived? Frustrating? Enviable? Ardyn wasn't sure how that sentence was to end, and so it trailed off into brief silence.]

...troublesome. [He looked to his right hand distantly, trying to form something resembling an answer to that.]

For us it's far less personal. The past kings of the royal bloodline--their souls ascend upon their deaths and become part of the reigning monarch's power. He inherits the accumulated magic of generations, and their weapons are bound to his soul.

To bear the souls of Lucian kings is to become an armiger, and sacrifice one's own body and life in the process.

[Frisk holds Chara's gaze, just long enough to sense their permission. They look back to Ardyn, then, listening carefully, their hands unfolding so that they can sit up, scoot around so that they're sitting next to Chara instead of in front of them. Their knees still touch, as if unwilling to fully separate.]

Do they want that? All of the kings. Their souls aren't his.

[Permission given, as always. They lean away the moment Frisk begins to move; the two a cohesive unit that rearranges itself with no mistakes.]

That sounds far more troublesome, personally. At what point does the living person begin, and the kings of old end?

Both excellent questions and the answers are in a sense linked.

[Ardyn looked up and smiled in a strangely empty manner, as if to cover up a brief uncertainty and a hundred other thoughts that came with it.]

For you see, it matters very little what the past kings want, and even less what the current monarch might desire. To be a king of Lucis is to forsake all else for the kingdom and its people. [A note of spite crept into his voice, Ardyn waving a hand dismissively.] Even the line's magic is tailor-made to sacrifice body and soul for the power to protect others.

[Ardyn shrugged, hands on his hips as he glanced over the two with a definite bitterness to his smile now.]

One can not be 'a king of the Lucis Caelum blood' and also be 'a living person'. Similarly, the kings of yore have largely ceased to be remembered in name and instead exist as spirits of judgment to deem the ruling monarch worthy or unworthy of their power. That is quite simply the way of it, and whether any of them for over one hundred generations would wish otherwise is irrelevant.

[Frisk exchanges a look with Chara, which lasts only a few moments before they're looking at Ardyn again.]

They sound like good kings.

[Their tone is neither approving nor disdainful. If anything, it's a bit on the saddened side. Kings having to bear unfair burdens for the sake of their people; it's a story they've heard before. They've been the unfair burden, before. Both children sitting before Ardyn have. It's sad, but they understand the terrible weight that comes with being a monarch.]

[It makes them wonder about the ones who came before Asgore. But not for very long.]

[As ever, they make their simple observation and leave the harder questions to Chara.]

They sound like morons. [Chara says, a little more blunt with their opinion.] Allowing your life to be so decided simply due to lineage and destiny- golly, what an upstanding king.

[Doing something simply because they were born and conditioned to do so- what kind of life was that? There was no thought or choice necessary; simply a simpleton willing to be puppeteered to some higher being's liking.

And heaven knows the things that happen when one puts aside all else for kingdom and people.]

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Let's Go In The Garden

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Hey go to bed.

ok mom

sliides in here

oh hello there uwu

ayyyy

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sorry for the wait my loves...

smooches u

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