all those fearful eyes

[journalname]

Who: Asgore and OPEN
What: Asgore revives in the Temple after completely beefing his trial, and finds that he has lost his sight
When: December 19th
Where: The Storyteller's Temple > Islet #1 > Islet #3
Warnings: Don't anticipate anything; will tag if it comes up

Asgore wakes in the dark, on stone, a blazing golden soul still burning in his mind's eye.

At first he thinks he is still in the dark tunnels of the Trial, with no torch yet to light his way. But the sun is warm on his fur, and the air smells like the islands. It's still dark. His eyes are open, so...?

He sits up, hands going to his face in a sudden panic. No scarring, no dust, and he can't think of any reason why there would be. The child hadn't aimed for his face. Justice called only for his death, not putting out his eyes first.

After a frantic moment, he remembers the goldenrod that had adorned his head for weeks after his previous death. There's always a price, isn't there? This must be what it is today. It's much, much worse than a crown of flowers, yet still a small cost to pay in the face of being resurrected after so much death. Even if it weren't, there's nothing to be done about it.

Asgore rises to his feet and takes a few small, cautious steps. The stones of the temple floor are not quite even. He'd never noticed before. He remembers where the mana pool is, in relation to the temple, and that path must be well-worn. But his home is a fair distance and more than one island from here. That's going to be a difficult walk.

Still, Asgore makes it down to the mana pool before giving in and summoning his trident.

You may encounter him making his way slowly across Islet 1 or Islet 3, using the handle end of his huge red trident to feel out his path. He moves slowly, face drawn with weariness and anxiety. Though his eyes have gone milky-white, they still dart about as he tries to navigate his surroundings. He'll likely get used to being without his sight after a little time, but that's later. Today, he just wants to go home.

Comments

[counterblows]

You remember the symbol you got on your hand?

[He didn't think those deaths would have the kinds of repercussions that they, apparently, have - but you learn something new.]

Mine was yellow.

[journalname]

Orange, for me. The Trial of the Brave...

[He says, more wryly than he usually allows.]

I do not suppose yours was the Just?

[counterblows]

The Forgiving, actually.

[His tone is equally dry. Forgiving being what all of them had to learn to be, presumably.]

We all died. A...number of times. But we came back, like it was nothing. [The question there is implicit - so how come is it that someone else would come back with a penalty yoked around their neck?]

[journalname]

Us as well.

[Yeeeeah, he gets it.]

But we were only given ten attempts. After that, I suppose it stuck. I do believe most of the others made it out, at least.

[counterblows]

Ten for us, each. [Washington nods, wearily. Goddamn miracle he managed to make it out, given the circumstances. Raises the question of what, exactly, was so difficult that it killed this massive, physically imposing creature ten times over.]

What did you have to do?

[journalname]

[In retrospect, Asgore realizes that he should have seen that question coming. Instead he just flinches a little.]

Ah...we were in a maze, and had to fight our way out. It was filled with shadows from our pasts. People we'd known...

[Things we regretted. The words die in his throat.]

[counterblows]

You got a maze.

[He muses it aloud, seemingly unbothered by the hedging and stopping and starting that Asgore's giving him.]

We just had a straight walk. Like - was it like the way things were in October?

[journalname]

[If anything, that makes it easier. Asgore doesn't really want that kind of attention on his own difficulties.]

Similar. These were much more direct in their attempts to kill us. We could see each other's this time, but we could still only interact with our own. There was no chance of helping each other fight.

[counterblows]

Just left to fend for yourself?

[Brutal. But not surprising.]

I guess everyone got sorted into their own...Trial. Or most people were, anyway. I don't know what anyone else had to deal with.

[journalname]

[Asgore shrugs.]

I have not yet spoken to anyone else about it. But there was no one else at the temple when I woke, so...perhaps this was not as bad as the time with the flowers.

[counterblows]

[What Wash doesn't say is that no one else must have failed quite so many times in a row. He should say it. He doesn't. Chances are the burden of failure is already weighing heavily on his shoulders.]

You didn't hear anyone, you mean?

[journalname]

...yes.

[Clearly?]

I also...walked around a good deal of it before I found the exit. [And didn't trip over anyone who was unconscious, so.]

[counterblows]

Oh.

[It seemed prudent to ask is all.]

You need any...help? Getting around like this.

[journalname]

[Asgore thinks for a moment, turning his head a little as if to look around. Habit.]

I...suppose I am doing alright for now. [He sounds doubtful, but also he doesn't want to make someone walk him home.] I am trying to get to the next islet, the one to the northeast. Which is...this way?

[He's not wrong; his sense of direction is decent, and he knows the route well. The thing he's pointing towards, however, is probably closer to "a bunch of trees" than "an actual direct path to the bridge".]

[counterblows]

You're about twenty degrees off.

[If he were more...person-sized, Wash would probably be feel a little more comfortable physically shifting him, attempting to direct him in the correct path. As such, attempting to do so now would just feel - awkward, he thinks. Incredibly so.]

You need me to...? [He almost trails off with a noncommittal shrug before catching himself. Right.] I can...take you there, if you need it.

[journalname]

Well...

[Part of him wants to brush that off, claim that he can handle it, but he's sort of just proven that he can't. Not well, at least. As little as he wants to inconvenience anyone, it seems like it would simply be foolish pride now, to insist on blundering about the wilderness on his own.

(Also, this has been an exceptionally awful day.)]

It would not be too much trouble?

[counterblows]

It's not a problem. I was headed that way.

[This is not, strictly speaking, a lie. He was making rounds of the islets, which is routine for him at this point - but not ideal, seeing as it hasn't actually prevented anything from happening. Nor has it done anything but perpetuate the lingering cycle of his insomnia.]

Here. I can... [One hand, gauntleted in Kevlar and titanium composite, brushes against the back of one of Asgore's paws.]

[journalname]

[Asgore doesn't really startle much at that. He didn't exactly expect to be touched, but it was on the list of possibilities. He does dismiss the huge red trident he was using to feel his way, though, letting it dissolve into nothing more than a few fading red sparkles.]

Thank you, then. You are very kind. [He'll let Wash take his arm or hand or whatever he's going for here.]

[counterblows]

[The trident dissipates like burned paper - flurrying sparks and the hiss of dissolving magic. Wash blinks.]

[As long as he contextualizes it - equates it to an energy sword deploying and then fizzling out - it's easier to manage. Holding a giant...goat...paw is not something he ever thought he'd do, but...first time for everything.]

Washington. [He says it as he starts to walk, realizing belatedly that he hadn't introduced himself.] My name. It's Washington.

[journalname]

I am Asgore. It's good to meet you, Washington.

[He follows along. The slower pace of someone much shorter than him is actually quite comforting, under the circumstances.]

Do you live here on the islets?

[counterblows]

Yeah. On the...one with that giant shell thing. Same one as Pyrrha, C.T. - you know them?

[He's pulling the names out that he remembers best. Off the top of his head, he's not sure who else lives in the area. Shion, maybe? And...more than that, probably. Islet 4 is actually quite reasonably populated.]

[journalname]

I do! They're both lovely people. Oh, dear, I do hope they're doing well...

[He doesn't recall hearing if either one of them had one of the glowing marks or not. Statistics do not appear to be in their favor. But perhaps they came out of the trials well, at least.]

[counterblows]

They're doing...about as well as anyone can. December wasn't easy.

[Between the way it started and the midpoint, he's pretty much about ready to be done with December.]

[journalname]

No, I guess it wasn't.

[Asgore usually tries to be a little more optimistic, but he hasn't been having a great time either.]

Perhaps the new year will be better. Though, I admit there is not much to base that hope on.

[counterblows]

We'll see.

[He's personally not terribly optimistic. But then, he never is.]

[They cross the bridge from one islet to the next, and he starts sweeping the surrounding houses - cleaner and firmer, now that Harv has renovated them.

Which house is yours? Anything outside it?