BUTTERCUPS

Chara hadn’t wanted to come to the festival, but — it’s Oliver. He’s their best friend here on the island, and so when he invited them? Chara said yes.

but . . . it’s heights. A hot air balloon. Chara is aware of the irony of their terror of high places.

“. . .

Kris hasn’t told them many details. Not about their life, not about the things that they have to go home to.

But. if it’s anything like their own. . .

“You are right. I did not see them. However.

If you are a bad person for not wanting to go home. . . if you are a bad person for wishing that Miss Noelle never returns here. . .

Then I am just as bad. i do not wish for Frisk to return here. I never want Asriel to end up here.

I want them to stay in their happily ever after on the surface. I do not want them to come here and see me. I do not want to face the bad things I did to Asriel. The things that Frisk and I felt we had to do.”

. . . Chara quietly squeezes Kris’ hand. They pet against the teens knuckles with their calloused fingertips; trying to comfort them, in their own way.

A good person.

A good person they potentially broke because they couldn't keep the Soul in check.

And if it's not cold sweats, it's a thick, sickly despair that they feel. Because, like the sight of the world growing wet and dark, the sunset fading to monochrome, Susie standing in the water with Noelle in her arms, haloed by the sunset like she were radiating sunlight herself... that image will never leave their head.

. . . . .

. . . okay.”

There’s no use in denying Kris’ feelings. Chara would be a hypocrite if they did. Instead, they continue to hold Kris’ hands with their own bandaged, scarred ones —

Scars that will never go away.

“In that case. We can be bad here together. I will not leave you. You may think you do not deserve Susie and Noelle, but I think we deserve each other. You are.”

. . . hesitation. Chara’s throat flutters, before they swallow.

“You are like a sibling to me. You do not have to force yourself to he happy with me. You do not have to force a smile.

“It is okay to be jealous,” they say, quiet and soft. A gentle place for Kris to lay their head, metaphorically speaking. “You are not unforgivable for having normal emotions, Kris. The important part is that you do not lash out at those who do not deserve it. I know you would never do that of your own free will.”

The smile they wear is the same as always. Chara rubs their thumb against the back of Kris’ palm, like Toriel used to do for them. They know it’s not the same. But it’s enough.

Even before the Soul was there, they were ruining lives.

Susie is the only good thing in that miserable existence.

"... You didn't see them." Kris mumbles, staring down at the small hands holding their's. "... they didn't even see me anymore even when we were all sitting together. I ended up, in one version I remember anyway, just dozing through the entire last few hours. Half listening, half wishing I was somewhere else, trying to be happy for them. Because they both deserve to be happy... Susie deserves a nice and honest partner. And Noelle..." They tense slightly, hand twitching and entire body looking as if they were ready to leap to their feet and run away.

"But Kris... you changed... You found out how to stop being Kris! And no one else has noticed... Because they don't want to! They don't want to see how INTERESTING you are now!"

Kris hangs their head low. They leave their thought hanging there, uncertain of how to complete it. So it remains a verbal loose thread they have no ability to tie up.

Kris hasn’t told them many details. Not about their life, not about the things that they have to go home to.

But. if it’s anything like their own. . .

“You are right. I did not see them. However.

If you are a bad person for not wanting to go home. . . if you are a bad person for wishing that Miss Noelle never returns here. . .

Then I am just as bad. i do not wish for Frisk to return here. I never want Asriel to end up here.

I want them to stay in their happily ever after on the surface. I do not want them to come here and see me. I do not want to face the bad things I did to Asriel. The things that Frisk and I felt we had to do.”

. . . Chara quietly squeezes Kris’ hand. They pet against the teens knuckles with their calloused fingertips; trying to comfort them, in their own way.

Kris doesn't move to acknowledge the juice or chocolate at first, staring through their own legs and the ground their feet were planted on. Their body reacts after a moment even if their brain doesn't, hands curling around the gifts to cradle them against their stomach like it would make the horrible feelings go away.

Jealousy, sorrow, sickness, fear.

Out of all of the memories, the lake is the one that sticks out the most. Understandably. In the quiet, over the pounding of their blood in their skull, they swear they can almost hear her voice urging them deeper and deeper and deeper—

Kris swallows and the spell is broken. They blink, the world snapping into focus like they've only just now remembered where they were.

They look up from their lap to Chara, mind full of static and a life they couldn't have experienced.

Kris won't burden Chara with the lake. That's too much even for them to process.

"... It... I remembered things that I don't know how I could have experienced," Kris mumbles, tongue feeling too thick in their dry mouth. "and— Susie and Noelle had a nice..." They don't know if they can trust themselves to say the word right now, not when there's so many things in their head at present. So they don't. "...a good time at the festival." Kris looks away, shoulders slumping. "... A really nice time. I didn't need to be there."

They open the juice bottle.

“It is okay to be jealous,” they say, quiet and soft. A gentle place for Kris to lay their head, metaphorically speaking. “You are not unforgivable for having normal emotions, Kris. The important part is that you do not lash out at those who do not deserve it. I know you would never do that of your own free will.”

The smile they wear is the same as always. Chara rubs their thumb against the back of Kris’ palm, like Toriel used to do for them. They know it’s not the same. But it’s enough.

They haven’t shown Vash, or Susie or Legato or Kris or even Oliver, their best friend in the Spirale. They keep this place secret. safe.

Chara glances over as Flowery settles himself down, before,

“be careful. There is a patch of buttercups beside you. If you put your hand on them, you could come back with a blister. Though. I am not sure if that is true for other flowers. Your skin may just be synthetic, and unaffected by. . . buttercups.”

Doubtful anyone else could find this place without directions or luck. The only reason Flowery found it is because the flowers told him, and he doesn't want to betray their trust, or their caretaker's.

He glances over at his side, where a cluster of golden flowers stares up at him. Would they hurt him? Could they? This body looks human, but he already knows it isn't. Cut him, and petals spill out. And he knows they wouldn't hurt him on purpose, but everyone makes mistakes.

Still staring, he takes the proffered water. He doesn't need much; he's not a big flower. Just enough to moisten the soil.

"That's two I owe, guy," he says, putting the cap back on. "I'll repay the favor. And don't worry about these, I'll make sure they behave."

Quiet kid, which is fine. Flowery can talk for two or more, but for this moment, he falls silent. There's a few things to think about; black blades and dark fountains. Flower kings and lonely princes. Lightners and Darkners. Flowers.

Flowery looks up, the sun filling his eyes. He's not a guy to dwell on things. There are other things he wants to ask the kid about, but he holds his tongue. No, there's one thing.

As Flowery contemplates, Chara settles themself back into the grass; they pick at the bandaids on their fingers, thoughtful as well. They wonder if Flowery is going to ask why they keep a poisonous plant as part of their garden. Maybe he won’t think of it.

“Oh. You do not owe me anything. I am simply trying to be. . . kind.”

Chara doesn’t like debts — whenever that be owing a debt or being owed one. The idea is icky in their stomach. The child hums, picking at a stray thread on their sweater.

“- oh! That is right. I have not told you. My name is — Chara.”

This man is a Darkner. Chara feels like telling him their last name will only bring more confusion, so they decide to not admit to it. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Their last name. Their connections to players parallel to those in Flowerys life.

well, yeah. Chara could kind of tell. His name is Flowery. The only ones Chara knows who are that bad at naming things are . . .

Asgore and. . .

It doesn’t matter. Something tightens in Chara’s chest. They don’t look at Flowery, either — rather, their gaze is directed at the dirt. At the flowers they’ve lovingly tended to. The ones that Flowery says appreciate them.

“Flowers are neither human nor monster. But they have feelings. Even if they say they do not. They can lie just like any other creature. But I am glad. . . that I am doing right by the ones I care for.

. . .

No point in waxing poetic. In thinking on what these flowers would do, if they had their own Dark Fountain. In thinking on what he wish he could've done. No point in dwelling on it.

"But it sounds like you get it," he says, finally turning back. He grins, same as he always does. "Not here to shower on your fun. Just making sure."

Wanted to make sure kindness was repaid, in some form. But it looks like he won't have to.

"This is your flower's, right? You don't mind if I take the petal off the metal for a bit?" says Flowery. He doesn't wait for a reply, just taking a seat right where he stands. The flowers beneath him seem to shift out of the way, so that not a single one is out of place.

"Been some time since I could do this. Relax. Kept myself busy, and now, I've got nothing but. Time."

Sunlight. Fresh air. What more does a flower need?

They haven’t shown Vash, or Susie or Legato or Kris or even Oliver, their best friend in the Spirale. They keep this place secret. safe.

Chara glances over as Flowery settles himself down, before,

“be careful. There is a patch of buttercups beside you. If you put your hand on them, you could come back with a blister. Though. I am not sure if that is true for other flowers. Your skin may just be synthetic, and unaffected by. . . buttercups.”

No one knows about their secret garden except for Anya. Just outside city limits, nearby where they had first set up their treehouse when they first arrived in this place, Chara’s garden full of flowers grows. They keep it from everyone; just a little something that they can go to when everything becomes too much.

. . . except, now, there is a man here.

“. . . it is fine.”

they’re being very generous with that ‘fine’

It's great that it's fine, so Flowery continues. "Sames to you, little guy. People forget since they don't move, but flowers are alive too. They have hopes and dreams, that kind of things. They can't always do much in return, but... they appreciate it."

He holds out his hand, and one of the flowers extends, growing high enough for him to look right at it without having to bend over. Holding it gently, Flowery smiles. "It takes a good heart to takes care of flowers. And these guys are telling me they're thankful."

Another smile, and the flower shrinks back into the ground. "I think I can trust you. Well, cards on the table, little guy," he says, turning back to the kid. "I'm flowers. Kindas. Long story, I don't wanna bore you."

Looking out towards the city, a breeze blows through the flowery patch, ruffling Flowery's clothes and sending loose petals into the air. He takes a deep breath- it reminds him of the flower shop.

"Sorry about the guy. Just feeling sentimental. Thinking about home, and so on. I'm not a big cityguy either, I get it."

He falls silent for a moment, simply enjoying the scenery. He's not a guy who likes to wax sentimental, but it's nice. If only the others could see it.

well, yeah. Chara could kind of tell. His name is Flowery. The only ones Chara knows who are that bad at naming things are . . .

Asgore and. . .

It doesn’t matter. Something tightens in Chara’s chest. They don’t look at Flowery, either — rather, their gaze is directed at the dirt. At the flowers they’ve lovingly tended to. The ones that Flowery says appreciate them.

“Flowers are neither human nor monster. But they have feelings. Even if they say they do not. They can lie just like any other creature. But I am glad. . . that I am doing right by the ones I care for.

. . .

PHYSICAL PRESENCE AND GESTURE.

1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?

2. How much physical space do they use, active and at rest?

3. How do they position themselves in a group? Do they like to be the center of attention, or do they hang back at the edges of a crowd?

4. What is their size and build? How does it influence how they use their body, if it does?

5. How do they dress? What styles, colors, accessories, and other possessions do they favor? Why?

6. What are they like in motion–in different environments, and in different activities? What causes the differences between these?

7. How do they physically engage with other people, inanimate objects, and their environment? What causes the differences between these?

8. Where and when do they seem most and least at ease? Why? How can you tell?

9. How do they manifest energy, exhaustion, tension, or other strong emotions?

10. What energizes and drains them most?

11. How are they vocally expressive? What kind of voice, accent, tones, inflections, volume, phrases and slang, and manner of speaking do they use?

12. How are they bodily expressive? How do they use nonverbal cues such as their posture, stance, eyes, eyebrows, mouths, and hands?

DISPOSITION AND TEMPERAMENT.

13. How do they greet the world — what is their typical attitude towards life? How does it differ in different circumstances, or towards different subjects? Why do they take these attitudes, and why do they change? How do these tend to be expressed?

14. What do they care deeply about? What kind of loyalties, commitments, moral codes, life philosophies, passions, callings, or spirituality and faith do they have? How do these tend to be expressed?

15. What kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? Calculating and practical? Full of doubts and fears? Does it find any sort of outlet in their lives?

16. Do they dream? What are those dreams like?

17. Are they more shaped by nature or nurture — who they are, or what has happened to them? How have these shaped who they’ve become as a person?

18. What kind of person could they become in the future? What are some developmental paths that they could take, (best, worst, most likely?) what would cause them to come to pass, and what consequences might they have? What paths would you especially like to see, and why?

CONNECTIONS WITH OTHERS.

19. How do they behave within a group? What role(s) do they take? Does this differ if they know and trust the group, versus finding themselves in a group of strangers? Why?

20. What kind of individual relationships do they have with others, and how do they behave in them? How are they different between intimate relationships like friends, family, and lovers versus more impersonal relationships?

21. What kind of relationships do they tend to intentionally seek out versus actually cultivate? What kind of social contact do they prefer, and why?

22. How do people respond to them, and why might these responses differ?

23. How do they respond to difficult social moments? What makes them consider a social situation difficult?

24. How do they present themselves socially? What distinguishes their “persona” from their “true self”, and what causes that difference?

25. What do they need and want out of relationships, and how do they go about getting it?

26. How do they view and feel about relationships, and how might this manifest in how they handle them, if it does?

ACTIVITIES AND PREFERENCES.

27. What do they strongly like and dislike, in any category? Why?

28. What are they likely to do if they have the opportunity, resources, and time to accomplish it? Why?

29. What kind of activities, interests, and hobbies do they have? What significance and impact do these have in their lives, both positive and negative?

30. What is their preferred level of activity and stimulation? How do they cope if they get either too little or too much?

31. Is there anything that counts as a “dealbreaker” for them, positively or negatively? What makes things go smoothly, and what spoils an activity or ruins their day? Why?

32. Do they have any “props” that are a significant part of their life, identity, activities, or self-presentation somehow? What are they, how are they used, and why are they so significant? How would these props’ absence impact them, how would they compensate, and why?

THINKING AND LEARNING.

33. How do they learn about the world–what is their preferred learning style? Hands-on learning with trial and error? Research, reading, and note-taking? Observation or rote memorization? Inductive or deductive reasoning? Seeking patterns and organization? Taking things apart and putting them back together? Creative processing via discussing, writing about, or dramatizing things?

34. How do they understand the world–what kind of worldview and thought processes do they have? Why?

35. How and why do they internalize knowledge? What effect has that had on them?

36. How much do they rely on their minds and intellect, versus other approaches like relying on instinct, intuition, faith and spirituality, or emotions? What is their opinion on this?

37. Have they had any special education or training that colors their means of learning about or understanding the world? Conversely, do they lack some kind of education considered essential in their world? What kind of impact has this addition or lack had on them?

38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why?

39. What sort of questions or thoughts recur in their lives, either specifically or as a theme? Why are these never answered, or answered permanently to their satisfaction?

40. What do they wonder about? What sparks their curiosity and imagination, and why? How is this expressed, if it is?

FREE FOR ALL.

41. What associations do they bring to mind? Words or phrases, images, metaphors or motifs? Why?

"I see what you're going for. Sure! Thyme for courage. Iris for hope. Hollyhock for ambition! The language of flower's not something everyone gets! Am I wrong, or is it just a salad?"

Flowery laughs to himself, ankle-deep in flowers. Each step he takes is painstakingly careful, and not a single petal is out of place. It's nice that there's something like this in the city, and with such a view to boot. Perfect place for a guy to put down roots and rest a bit.

"Sorry little guy, hope I didn't startle you. Couldn't help but notice your work, and the care you put into it. Flower's have feeling's too, you know? But I'm sure I don't need to tell you."

No one knows about their secret garden except for Anya. Just outside city limits, nearby where they had first set up their treehouse when they first arrived in this place, Chara’s garden full of flowers grows. They keep it from everyone; just a little something that they can go to when everything becomes too much.

. . . except, now, there is a man here.

“. . . it is fine.”

they’re being very generous with that ‘fine’