lifeaftr | I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain

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I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain

Who: Our volunteer mountaineers
What: Two parties split up to scale the mountain from two sides, planning to meet at it’s peak. Shenanigans occur along the way.
When: September 13th to 16th
Where: Group 1: G3, H2, G2 || Group 2: F3, F2, G2
Warnings: Please note any warnings in your subject headers!

Word spreads quickly in a small community such as this. What was originally intended to be a small party turned into something much larger- and on the day Chara planned to leave for the mountain, it’s not one, but two parties that make off for it’s peak.

Group 1, led by Chara, moves off during the early hours of the morning, seeking to search the furthest part of the mountain by following the river upwards. The path is longer and more winding- however, they are unhampered in when they can travel.

Group 2, led by Ardyn, takes off after the sun has set- due to the needs of multiple members to avoid the sun’s harsh glare. Their route takes them up the closest side of the mountain, which provides an easier path- however, they may only travel whilst the sun is set.

OOC: Welcome to the mountaineering open post! Keep in mind the following;

♆ RNG was happily done blind by our wonderful Guzma mun, with our animals RNG'd by Wade Wilson's! Thank them both for all your misfortune.

♆ Prompts have been provided for each group below! Simply toplevel wherever you wish and treat this like a normal open post!

♆ Since each group will generally be in close contact with one another, consider asking others if you can threadjack here and there; nothing says team-building like being a nosy parker.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They're gonna start seeing things they won't understand!

[There are kids there and the idea that they might be seeing something horrifying - ]

[Oh god.]

[He doesn't even want to guess what they might be seeing. Guessing is bad enough.]

The gas isn't affecting me from over here, I don't think they're in range. At least, not unless it throws another spore closer to them...

Then keep moving!

[Because Tim's about to head right the fuck back in there and see who else needs help.]

[She sighs at the thought of leaving someone in his condition to try helping the others, but she knows she's not going to talk him out of it.]

All right, can you be ready to run towards the left? I'm going to hit it with a few bullets to get its' attention and try luring it further back to the right, deeper into the woods.

Fine.

[He won't argue further than that - it's a decent strategy, and right now his priority involves those who are in the thick of it, right fucking now. If Muffet wants to distract it, sure. She's capable. She can handle herself.]

[He's already tearing off toward the left.]

[Goddamn suicidal humans.]

[Muffet sighs internally, and turns to face the Lungblossom, firing three bullets directly into the main mass of the plant.]

Not ignoring me, are you, dearie~? I'm right over here...

[Hey about them suicidal humans.

Because here's one. Their very first response, of course, had been to go to Frisk. Go to their Partner- get them out, despite their protests. It's cruel, but they use the very first thing that will ensure their Partner leaves without them.

They tell them to go help Luna leave the area.

From there, it's all too easy for a child this small to be lost in the chaos. Blade drawn, they're most certainly fighting-

But by the time Tim sees them, it's only to witness them inhaling a burst of hallucinogenic gas, staggering against the nearest tree as they attempt to keep on their feet.

Too late.]

[They're fighting flabby mats of leaves that spit up clawed spores with devilishly hooked ends, belching thick greenish gas, and the cold blaze of words sheathed in iron keep clanging at the back of his skull, clamoring for his attention. Alex snarls something incomprehensible. Brian won't stop laughing. A high, discordant shrill of distortion shrieks, the background radiation of his uneven breath.]

[Jay buckles over with a patch of scarlet blossoming down his middle, arcing gracelessly with one hand outstretched in protest.]

[He doesn't shout their name, and he doesn't breathe in any deeper than he needs to.]

[He slips a little when he reaches their side, falling to one knee - but that works to his advantage, when he raises one hand, palm out, a foot or so away.]

[Real.]

[The time it takes for him to spot and reach them might be small. It might be- usually it's moments like these in which Chara counts such things. The seconds taken. The lives lost.

But it's clear that they were wholly unprepared for this kind of threat, not even looking Tim's way as the knife in their hand

Drops to the ground.

He holds his hand out in front of their face. Even a foot or so away, he'll be able to feel it. A brush of air across his palm as Chara's chest heaves, breathing collapsing from a smooth rhythm to something sharp, erratic. Hard. Entire body rigid, wide eyes look over his fingers at something unseen to him, something that's enough to steal the color from their cheeks, expression twisting into something that Tim has never seen on them before.

It's not worth describing.

It's not worth describing.]

[They're not handling it well. Hallucinations are his wheelhouse, not theirs. Their gaze locks on something over his shoulder (don't look) and their expression...]

[Doubtless he wouldn't grace it with a description.]

[Their breath is ragged, desperate - and he has to stoop to rescue the knife from the ground.]

[There's nothing worse, nothing more unsettling and invasive and uncalled for than grabbing someone who expects violence from that sort of abrupt motion, who expects a fist raised and fingertips seizing a hank of hair to pull them roughly along. He still has the collar of his shirt yanked over his mouth - it doesn't take long, even with fingers stained and slippery with sweat, trembling from the strain of fending away the cold hum of voices, to cut a strip of cloth from the hem and hold it out to them.]

[Cover your face.]

[Please.]

[The entire time he works on creating some protection for them, Chara stays stock still. Tremors spread- first at their fingertips, then throughout their entire body, flinching when his hand reappears into their vision and looking at him, for the first time, with pupils dilated.

The sudden, rough motions don't come from him. Chara grasps the cloth, holding it over their mouth- and in the very same motion, grip both fabric and skin at his shoulder, yanking at him roughly. Staggering to

To stand in front of him, wheeze particularly high pitched as they recoil back from an unseen something, shielding their face with their arm.

Shielding him with the rest of them.]

[They paw at him abruptly, a surge of contact he doesn't anticipate, is wholly unprepared for. One arm over across their face, the other splaying out in front of him, as if he needs protecting. As if he's the one that needs shielding from any of this. From any of this.]

Hey - kid, Chara, look at me.

[It's not okay. Oh god, it's not.]

[He can't just grab them and run. Not in the wake of everything he knows about them. That'll never go over well, and they've been - ]
[They've been grabbed, held, carried, hurt - by enough of the adults in their life.]
I need you to look at me. Okay?

[Don't look at what they're seeing. Just...look at him.]

[Please.]

[This would be so much easier if he wasn't here. So much easier if every- the potential for a strike to be aimed his way is worse, far worse, than potentially taking a blow themself. He's here, and F r i s k.

Chara. The use of their name, an uncommon thing, already something they're unused to, forces their attention. Look at me, he says.]

Leave. [Is the horse whisper he gets back. Their eyes meet; Chara's feel far too hot. Heat that spills over onto their cheeks as shouts and shrieks fill their ears- it's no just him anymore.

All of them. They're all coming. They're all here.]

Leave, Tim.

It's not real.

[The words pull from his throat, low and urgent. They're still looking over his shoulder at things that aren't there, hot beads welling up in the corners of their eyes. Trying to protect him from shadows of things visible only to them.]

[(Just to the left of them, Alex Kralie lifts the barrel of a gun, and Tim has to work not to flinch.)]

It's not real. I'm here, okay? [One hand to their shoulder (forgive me for this), a gentle squeeze to make his presence apparent.] Just keep looking at me.

Keep looking at me. Nothing's gonna come for you. Just keep looking at me.

[Muffet isn't there to see any of this, although there's some question as to what she'd even be able to do about it if she was.]

[As it is, she's moving quickly through the woods, still flinging the occasional bullet behind her. She was fortunate enough that two assumptions she'd made turned out to be true: one, that the Lungblossom would focus all it's attention on someone actively attacking it...]

[...and two, that it was a lot slower than she was.]

[Still, she doesn't want to try keeping this up forever. Risking a hasty glance back over her shoulder, she confirms that it's still following her as fast as it can.]

[She scans the terrain carefully, looking for something that fits... and there it is.]

[A gap between two trees, wide enough to fit through but narrow enough for her to easily string lines between. She readies the magic and casts it just as she jumps through, the lines of purple magic snapping into place behind her.]

[The plant creature lumbers into them at full speed and winds up thoroughly trapped. Muffet takes a deep breath, brushes herself off, and surveys its' confused thrashing grimly.]

[Animals don't give EXP, thankfully- all she gets from whittling it down bullet by bullet is the knowledge of a job well done.]

[She still makes it as quick as she can.]

[Lungblossom thankfully dead, she turns around and heads back to their makeshift campsite, glancing around warily and hoping nothing else has found them in the meantime.]

[They recoil, a low sound escaping them at the hand that grasps their shoulder. Hurts. Doesn't hurt. Hurts. Doesn't intend to hurt.

That's a lie. Everything intends to hurt.

But it's just Tim. It's just Tim, and he couldn't hurt them if he tried. They try, somewhat- haggard, gulping gasps of air as they attempt to keep looking at him- but now and again, their eyes dart to the side, behind him. And every time they do, the quakes resume at full force.]

It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault.

[Their voice drops to a strained whisper; something difficult for even Tim to hear, as close as he is.]

He wants to kill me.
Don't let him kill you.

I know.

[He has to strain to hear them. It's overpowering, no doubt. They're straining to make themself heard beyond the roar of what they're looking at. He wants to kill me. They've had no practice with this sort of thing - no practice, learning to sort what makes you scream into something that just makes you flinch and shiver, packing it away into that which you can compartmentalize and ignore.]

[On a good day.]

[Muffet is looping back. That'll mean the thing is finally dead, or sufficiently out of their way. Too bad the effect of its gas remains.]

Just breathe, okay?

[Just breathe.]

[He can't do much at all. He can't do much but pull them close, try to blot out whatever they're seeing with his own bulk, hope it won't hurt, hope that won't ache with every impulse that's been firing off as it stirred awake. Forgive him for this.]

[Forgive him for this.]

[Muffet arrives at the edge of their campsite in time to hear Chara's strained voice, before it drops to a whisper she can't make out. No, whatever it was, she doubts it was their fault at all. Hers, perhaps, for not pulling the creature away fast enough, not reacting in time.]

[She pauses there, standing quietly at the clearing's boarder, looking warily around for further threats or other people in need of help. Her first instinct is to go right to them, to offer comfort to a hurt child, but she has no reason to think they know her as anything more than a recent passing acquaintance, and she knows that humans tend to find her appearance unnerving at the best of times. The last thing she wants to do is add a new arachnophobic element to whatever they must be seeing right now.]

[No he doesn't. He thinks he does, but he doesn't know, he has no idea. He continues crouching before them, blocking their view- penning them in. There's a high, tinny sound ringing in their ears; it doesn't make breathing any easier.

And when they catch sight of Muffet out of the corner of their eye- what else can they do?

They burst into laughter.]

[They start to laugh. Of course they do. He glances up once Muffet draws nearer, jerking his chin.]

Everyone out?

[He's sorry, kid. He's so, so sorry. There's no way to help that's guaranteed to work, and he knows it. The most he can do is minimize it. Keep them shielded from the sights and sounds burning down their ears. When all he's really doing, he knows, is pinning them down, limiting their ability to fight back.]

[The words, when he utters them, are quiet. Almost inaudible.]

I'm sorry.

[And he hooks one arm under their legs, the other braced along their back, and lifts them from the ground.]

[Muffet nods, expression solemn and eyes still fixed on Chara.]

Yes. And that thing is... mulch. I don't know if there are any more around here, I didn't see any, but that one at least shouldn't be coming back to trouble us again.

[The moment his arm hooks behind their knees, their laugh chokes off. Hand flying to his shoulder, clawing both fabric and skin as they seek to gain a purchase- to the floor, the ceiling- the roof, even. He's only lucky their other hand gets pinned between them, jerking with the urge to get their knife.

Muffet speaks. And their shoulders shake, words coming between stifled giggles.]

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six

sixty-two,

seventy-eight.

One hundred and three.

[They're starting to count, in between the laughter. He might very well get himself pricked for this, but at the moment, he can't bring himself to care. Not now. He has a priority, and that priority is to get them out.]

Then let's go.

[Moving quickly, without further hesitation. They just need to get out of here. Once they're somewhere no one else can hear them, where no one else might hear what they have the chance to let slip, they can work from there.]

[Right now, all he can do is move as swiftly as possible away from the remnants of that thick, pea-soup gas.]

It's okay. It's okay, kid. [It's a lie, like everything else he's ever said in his damn life.] Just breathe.

[Muffet follows them wordlessly, falling into step beside Tim. She's keeping more than one eye out for trouble, scanning the area cautiously for any other dangers, but her gaze keeps returning to Chara.]

[She doesn't know why they're counting, but something about the numbers... nags at her, strangely uncomfortable in way that goes beyond her concern at seeing a child suffer, an unease that doesn't come from anywhere she can place.]

[It's okay, says Tim, and they don't know why he even bothers. Why bother, when they're both fully aware he's lying? For their sake?

No. It's a paltry, thin thing. The only one getting anything from it would be Muffet.

This is too constrictive.]

Tim. Ha ha. Tim. Put me down.

[Put them down. Put them down.

Just drop them. Let the demon hit the floor, haha.]

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Am I the one RPing the Lungblossom's actions, or you, or do we both do it?

little bit of both probs

Re: little bit of both probs

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/strolls in late with Starbucks

barrels into

cw: panic attack

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fuck you and your white text

shhhhh

Bringing her back around to the camp now.

o7 cw: referenced child abuse.

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