determinedest | ic inbox

I don't know.

[And they guess they won't know unless it happens. Determination can do a lot of things. But it can't alter the course of the way things have already happened. Frisk can roll back their own timeline all they want, but Chara will still be dead. Asriel will still be a flower. They'll still fail to remember everything they've lived through here. Apologizing to Sans, to Alphys, to Undyne. Explaining the nature of the SAVE, promising that they were still friends no matter what.

Will that all cease to matter? They'll all forget too, when they go back. It'll be like it never happened. Just a lone human with the weight of an entire world on their shoulders and the fragment of a fallen child's SOUL in their heart.]

I guess we'll only know if...when we go back.

[They can't just be gone from the Underground forever, can they. That might be too much to ask.]

...I don't want to forget.

Neither do I.

[They don't want to forget. They don't want to be forgotten. They don't want to be the hateful, unwelcome threat Sans thought they were, Asriel thought they were, that... even Frisk, surely, must have thought they were. How ridiculous, to be so eager to prove them all right, yet so reluctant to prove that you really are the very worst thing you could possibly be.

God, they're tired of their helplessness. The inability to really change anything, to actually have permanence. Consequence. No ending to that story, not a single one, lets them make up for what they did to Asriel. To their parents. To the whole Underground. None of those routes have room for an "I forgive you" or an "I understand." There's no reset out there powerful enough to let Chara undo their mistakes.

Same here, huh? Even if they change their mind about clawing a SOUL into their possession, that resolve will be erased. Don't bother getting attached, don't bother hoping.]

...We deserve this, don't we. Trying to be happy, but knowing we'll just forget everything we let ourselves be invested in.

[The universe itself is smiling and throwing its arms open, whispering c'mere, pal. And it's more punishment, it's more proof there's no forgiveness anywhere, but it's... it's really not unjustified.]

What a shame that not remembering is so crucial. We'd probably find the irony of it hilarious, if we did. A taste of our own bitter medicine!

[Ha...ha. Frisk is about to refute that claim, but find they can't. Chara's kind of right about that, aren't they? This must be how it feels to be Sans, all the time.

And they put him through hell. They put everyone through hell.]

Then I guess we have to do what we can with our time here.

[Always with the silver lining. Frisk squares their shoulders, tightens their mouth into a determined line.]

It doesn't make everything we do here just...meaningless.

[Sans's ability to remember what he could, that isn't meaningless, even if he eventually decided to believe it is. It matters. All of it.]

[There they go again, holding onto their hopes. Chara thinks about why they're here, but they still come up empty. The hopeful light in their eyes is far too buried to be so easily regained.

But they can, at least, call Frisk their partner. Let them find a silver lining, let them steer the path the anomaly takes for a bit. See what happens before you go trying to tear it all down.

It's not optimism, it's not hope, but... it's close, sort of, to believing in someone. Maybe? If you squint? It's some variety of trying, and they had made up their mind to try, after all.]

I suppose we need some reason to keep going, even if it's not a very substantial one.

[It feels... disingenuous, they have to admit. Deceptive. Acting like they can be happy here, when the knowledge looms over their head that they will eventually drag Frisk down that dusty path again, will go beyond Sans, will kill everyone and everything. They look back on the ridiculous pranks they laughed so openly over, and feel... a little bit of disgust, they think, toward themselves. They question, again, if they really have the right to be anything but not-okay.

They find themselves at a loss. So... they'll just keep looking to the example their partner sets, they suppose. Still seeking guidance, as always.]

But... if I can find a way to tether myself to this world permanently, Frisk, then I'm not sure I would refuse.

As long as it's something.

[It doesn't have to be an important reason. It never was for Frisk. Something as useless or potentially disappointing as "tomorrow is another day" could keep them going for a long, long time. Until one day, as they climbed atop a mountain, that hadn't been enough.

Now, though, they have more to moor them to continuing on. Their friends, the monsters that have become their family. Toriel and Asgore are easily their parents, Sans and Papyrus are like their skeleton uncles, Undyne and Alphys their cool aunts, and Chara...Chara's like that one cousin no one seems to get along with, but somehow gets invited to the family gatherings anyway? Hmm. They'll have to work on that analogy.]

I know some people...are happier here than they were at home. You aren't the only one.

[Happier here... it's still a difficult thing to think about. They're not sure they're happy. They sort of don't know if they ever will be happy, hopeless and broken-souled and full of LOVE as they are.

But... they're here. And even if trying to compare if they're doing better or worse is hard, they can at least tell that they have things they would never have back home. A body of their own, a flesh-and-blood case with a heart that beats. Part of a SOUL is better than none at all, probably, though a bleaker part of them does think the inability to feel would be more blessing than curse. And if they can be here...]

There aren't Resets here. We can't do them. Maybe... those take the both of us.

[If they can be here, then maybe the story will go on, instead of starting over. Flowey can have his wish. Frisk will live their life. No temptation to find out what else is left in the Underground, no friend, enemy, prisoner, or partner rattling around in their head, and no worrying about Chara's fate if that voice ceases to answer them. It doesn't sound so bad, does it? They'd rather separate as... ugh, as friends than be tangled together unhappily, surely.]

...Are you happier here?

[They have to think about that one. Things are simpler here, and they're more complicated. Their fate isn't in their own hands anymore, but in Wonderland's, and the place seems to be fickle at best. The mysteries and secrets all get to come out, and they get to speak plainly to everyone. The rules are broken, the script is torn to pieces, and things are all...different.

Better? Maybe.]

In some ways. We're not really...bound by anything here, are we?

[No obligations. No hard pathways from one location to another. They're stuck in one place, true, but there's still more choice than they had Underground, in more ways than one.]

[They smile at their interlocked fingers again, because it's a question with a lot of layers, huh? No prophecy. None of the knowledge that you were the only hope of everyone in this world. No finite pathways to card through. No SOULS literally bound together, two minds peering out the same set of eyes.

Chara unfolds their hands.]

Yet the lack of direction is... difficult, I think.

[It's the overhanging, looming thought that makes the empty days yawn in front of them like an endless chasm. What is the purpose of their reincarnation? Why have the power to SAVE, if there is no barrier to break or world to ERASE? Why did they survive to this point, despite their own bleak intentions to erase themselves from existence?]

I suppose it is a novelty, at least. I am beginning to realize just how little I actually bothered to find out about you, before we split apart.

I think we took each other for granted, a little bit.

[They say it with the tone of dawning realization. Every figure they met in their journey was a predetermined thing, from the same jokes and puns to the same monsters. Papyrus always leaves a plate of frozen spaghetti. Shyren always hides in a corner. There's always that oddly foreboding shape at the end of a golden hallway.

Constants and variables.]

I mean, we just kind of...everything else was set in place. So why should either of us be any different?

[Permanent fixtures in a malleable storyline. Frisk is always a confused tangle of striped shirt and cloudy past, and Chara is always a voice with an asterisk, commenting idly on things as they happen. Funny how they never stopped to question. Maybe that just never showed up in their ACT menu.]

[There... was a lot they hadn't stopped to consider. A shaky period where they hadn't even been sure there were two people there at all. They were so sure of the things they liked. That instant noodles were better dry, that soda was gross (sickly yellow liquid), that Mr. Dad Guy's favourite tea was the blatantly correct choice. Was that them? Did Frisk agree? Disagree?

Even if Frisk was the only one who could hear them speak, they sure did a lot of talking for Frisk, and very little asking.]

I don't think... I wanted to know you.

[Though they announce it with a little uncertainty. They didn't want attachment, they claim, but...

* You are intimidated by Froggit's raw strength. Only kidding.
* Ah! Wow! Gee! It's a "Hole."
* RATED TEM OUTTA TEM. Loves to pet cute humans. But you're allergic!
* Recovers HP.
* (Hit Poodles.)

They couldn't really call the journey from one end of the Underground to the other strictly formal and businesslike, huh? The whole way through, they weren't always disinterested. They'd been... sort of joking with each other the whole time, even as they'd been warring with each other, struggling to push their body towards fighting or towards mercy.

But even that... even that didn't always change when they went back. Some little things altered, but... the same jokes, the same advice about how to avoid Aaron's attacks, the same false air of mystery around the cameras hidden in Snowdin and Waterfall, even though they knew Alphys was watching. Never ignoring the pomeraisins in a sentry stand to instead ask when their host's birthday was, or what colour they liked best, or if they liked dogs more than cats.]

I guess we... never even tried, did we?

[The quiet hint lurking in a comment about a bed so comfortable, you might never get up, maybe. Force-feeding memories into Frisk's consciousness, reminding them to stay determined. Picking them up after a sharp plummet into the garbage dump, waking them up with a voice that had once picked them up after a plummet of their own. The sepia-toned image of a boy who saved someone who cried out for help, memories thick with love and gratitude and the hope that he could be saved too. They weren't... they weren't very direct ways to talk, were they?]

I only started talking about myself when I thought you weren't listening anymore.

[The date I came here. My drawing. My bed. It's me, Chara.]

I never gave you a chance to talk about yourself at all.

But...I mean, it was easy to just think the other was...gone. I'm not sure I even thought to ask if I was anyone else.

[Who were they? Chara. That's a nice name. A rote exchange, everything all muddled together, two SOULs existing in a place only intended for one.

Who was, Frisk, really? A kid who fell Underground and landed on a mat of golden flowers, very much like the other child who did the same. Chara would be forgiven for being confused, for thinking that they'd been given a second chance (in many ways, isn't that sort of what happened?), for thinking this body was theirs in a new iteration. There were only subtle differences. Thin eyes instead of wide ones, a flat expression in lieu of rosy cheeks, a firm neutral line instead of a wide, wide grin.]

I didn't exactly...assert myself at all, did I?

[That's a problem of theirs, and an asset of Chara's. Frisk was never assertive. The first decision they actually made for themselves was the decision to walk up the slope of Mt. Ebott and never look back, and it took them twelve years to get to that point where they actually felt they could make that decision. Whereas Chara...Chara is far more adapt at ACTing upon what they want, regardless of how Frisk might feel about what they want.]

I made myself a difficult voice to drown out. But... no, I suppose you didn't.

[Easier, maybe, to sit back. When you know someone else has a plan, knows exactly what to do, is willing to say they'll take care of all the hard, unpleasant dirty work. Better than fighting when you don't really know, yet, what to do, who you are, what you want.]

There's redness in you too, though. You did assert yourself in some very potent ways, when you finally decided to.

[They were the one with the power to SAVE the world, after all.]

But I think... if there is something you do not have enough of, then it might be something I have too much of.

[There is, they sort of realize, an ugliness to determination. The horror of hindsight, a clarity that simply was not there at the time. Simply... a decision. A plan. Building it up, assembling the steps, seeing nothing but the end goal. Feverishly cutting parts of yourself away to streamline the path from point A to point B. Not stopping to listen, really listen, understand that a roundabout, faint "I don't like this" is a no, is a "I can't do this." The resigned "this is my duty" that Asgore wore like a crown, the "this is for your own good" that Toriel held before her as she looked through you.

That's determination, too.]

You may not have known how to speak up, but... you know how to stop.

I guess we balance each other out pretty well.

[It's sort of a joke, but sort of...not. Where one has weakness, the other has strengths. Where one falters, the other presses forward. Monsters beneath the surface did seem to come in pairs, didn't they? Sans ans Papyrus. Asgore and Toriel. Undyne and Alphys. Asriel and Flowey.

Chara and Frisk. Duality.

It's only when you decide there's no other way that no other way becomes possible.]

So maybe...maybe we both have stuff we need to work on.

Maybe so.

[They'd do a lot better if they tried to communicate a little more, perhaps. ...Not even a perhaps. Over and over, they kept reminding themselves that Determination vs. Determination wasn't a fun game at all. An unstoppable force and an immovable object, just... grinding each other down to nothing.]

...But I'm still not going to listen to you.

[Announced with a glance over at Frisk and a sharp grin. For once, it's more teasing than warning. ...Probably.]

We only starting having all this fun because I didn't listen to you telling me throwing ketchup was a bad idea, right?

Fair enough.

[Frisk has been wrong plenty of times before, and besides, if there's anything the last event taught them, it's that being complacent in one another's schemes rarely ends well.]

And now we're in a full-scale prank war.

[...then a thought occurs to them.]

How, um, how long before Sans usually gets us back?

...I don't know. Usually a day or so, I guess?

[There are sunrises and sunsets to mark the passage of time again here, but Chara has, admittedly, not been paying much attention. Time stopped for them a long time ago.]

He's pretty prompt, for a lazybones.

Then I guess we can expect his rebuttal tomorrow.

[Frisk shoots Chara a dry look, if an amused one.]

And this time, I'm not gonna be the one to clean it up.

[Seriously, ketchup and them glasses of ice water and now feathers. Whatever Sans has planned next, Chara can help this time. They did start all this.]

...Understood.

[Though it is tempting to pull something ridiculous. Insist that alas, they are but a lingering spirit, an insubstantial ghost who cannot pick up whatever nightmarish revenge Sans intends to dump on their room.

Still, they can at least admit that fair is fair. Never were one to shy away from getting their hands dirty!]

I'll handle whatever comes next. Since I'm so nice, and all.

I'll help if it's really bad.

[Frisk shakes their head with a faint smile. Like the...b's. The 30,000 b's. Oh, Sans and his sense of humor.]

You may come to regret offering, Frisk. Who knows what Sans has up his sleeve?

[If it's another visual pun like the b's, they're gonna scream.]

Nonetheless! How refreshing to see you so eager to embrace consequences. Look at you, growing up so fast.

Do we still count as twelve when we've lived through...how many timelines now?

[Is Chara technically twelve? They've never said. They just kind of looked approximately Frisk's age, and if Chara can't remember their birthday, well shoot Frisk will just have to pick a day out for them.]

[* Chara looks... a little confused.

For someone who defines themselves by numbers, they threw time away very quickly. Age is irrelevant when you're not like other kids, Chara, so mature for your age, ready for the things grown-ups do. Why bother scrounging for an age, anyway, if you're only going to get "you're not a kid?"]

That... depends, I suppose? Does it count as getting older if you haven't actually aged?

["Technically a lot older than 12," Frisk tells them, and though they still don't really know how many years passed between their death and reincarnation, they accept it. They must be an adult by now, right? They've had so much practice acting like one.]

...You aren't going to age here, either. Dipper told me. Are you still going to turn thirteen if you're twelve on the outside?

Well, we might be twelve on the outside, but we're not really on the inside, are we?

[If you add up all the time from previous timelines and put it all together, you get...a lot. A very lot.]

Do you remember your birthday, or anything?

Not in the slightest. Why would I celebrate being born?

[Existing. Surviving for one more year, despite everything. They didn't really feel like achievements.

They had something better to celebrate, anyway. A calendar in New Home, a single date circled.]

My clock has already stopped, anyway. I won't really be thirteen no matter what world I'm in. I'm not even sure I actually did make it to twelve.

[They shrug.]

Why not tell me yours, instead?

It's in May, I think.

[They shrug. They never had much cause to celebrate it anyway.]

If you don't remember, then can I pick a day for you?

[Frisk seems positively delighted at the prospect. They could have the same birthday as Frisk - twins! - or the date the fell Underground, because that was like the first day they really felt like they were at Home, kind of? It's easier to shuffle aside all that talk of death with the prospect of a birthday.]

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WOW COOL COOL NOTIF DELAY DW

i still haven't gotten a notif for this lol

thanks dw

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I Deeply Enjoy not knowing When The Fuck

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