/ OVER & OVER .

But you have seen this before. A different actor doesn't really make all that much a difference. Maybe you'll make good on your word then. You don't really care enough to watch this.

So you just lean back . . . Eventually, you're oddly laid across whatever chocolate-coated heap you decided to sit atop. Head cursed to gaze skyward, longing to see stars that supposedly don't exist, because it's not nighttime yet. You can't see them but you know they're there... Are you still talking about the stars when you say that?

Haha. Well, anyway... Loop's got a dagger lodged in their throat and you're thinking about how nice it'd be to take a nap right now. You wonder if they ever felt the same way about you. Strangely enough, you feel like it's a bit silly to wonder about that. The answer is pretty obvious. For some reason, that answer doesn't sit all that well with you.

You heave a sigh. Weakly, as if you don't really want to, you raise a hand. Without looking, without feeling, your palm stretches, reaches...

Now, you're supposed to think warm, fuzzy thoughts for it to work. Or so you were told.

You do not have warm, fuzzy thoughts about Loop. You don't have warm, fuzzy thoughts about anyone, really. Neither of those statements are true.

A part of you thinks it'd be a shame. But pity isn't really a nice feeling, is it? Another part of you wants to joke, an empty claim that you'd simply miss the company. But is this the time for that? Deeper still, you find yourself searching. Why? What for? Is something going to happen when you find whatever it is that makes this work? If something were going to happen... It would have already.

They said something like that before, haven't they?

You realize that you remember a lot of your chats with Loop. Even if not all of them were pleasant. Even the ones now, here, they aren't very nice either, are they? But it is nice. To have a reason to chat again. You missed it. It's not bad to admit that, right? But it feels like that dagger would, or at least it ought to, find itself lodged in your chest if you said that now. Haha, actually, now that you're thinking about it... your chest kind of aches right now...

It leaves you wondering why you are doing this. You ask yourself this question a lot. You always already know the answer. Or rather, more specifically, the answer never seems to change in the first place. Except it has. Just now. Just slightly. Shifted just enough to mean something else. You're doing this because...

Because... Loop deserves this. Huh!

Somewhere amidst the muddled convincing you needed and the growing warmth in your hand (the same, or similar, warmth from when you touched them...) you sat up. You realize you're staring at them. Regrettably, and entirely unbeknownst to you, you have taken a new role. If you had to guess, you're making the same face they all did when they watched you play out Loop's current act. You're not sure you like that. But your facial expression is not the biggest concern to you right now.

No, that's wrong. You're not concerned. Being concerned implies you care, and you know you don't care. You've tried to drive that into that stupid bright head of theirs so many times now. You don't care!!! You just...

Woah, okay, your hand is like, really warm now... does that mean it's... working? It's a little different to the craft you're used to, not that you were all that great at healing to begin with, so you're not really sure. Your fingers twitch. Your arm almost feels like it weighs too much to lift. But you won't hesitate now.

"Sorry..." But only I'm allowed to do that... but you can't say that. Not now. Even if the jaded part of you thinks its true, even if you can imagine them laughing in agreement. That's not what you're apologizing for. No, you're sorry for being like this, for pushing them this far only to take it back, for ruining everything, for wanting them to stay, for missing them if they went away... there's a lot of things to be sorry for, you think. So it's all you can say.

this final act, this simple display, this means of escape! what if this was what they wanted, how they wished to go? in a sea of searing light; a pain they knew would greet them -- a pain they'd given warning towards. a warning easily dismissed. by them, by him.

this was a moment of role reversal, after all. they were suppose to disregard such advice. they were suppose to do whatever they wished for the sake of convenience.

well, here it was! convenience. it really was quite easy, they were provided the means to carry out an act so intimate. just ignore the pain, pretend its not there. it will end soon. they'll bleed out, darkness will consume them and the world around, and they can let go--

. . .

except they can't.

a warmth dulls their pain, something gentle mends away an inky black that dribbles down their skin. loop's smile has a chance to die before they do, silence settling over them without that soft caress of nothingness they had been longing for. they can't let go, they're not allowed to let go, he won't let them let go!!

and he has the nerve to apologize. only he's allowed something like this, right? an act that was his alone!

as if he hadn't been willing for it to happen the moment he was given a chance to; waiting, watching, as if he knew it would never happen. he was right to think so, wasn't he? seizing it from them like he had. like he did with so much else.

this moment was theirs. they didn't need to be stopped, didn't need to be saved -- they didn't deserve it! they didn't, they didn't, they didn't!

you hate him.

' sorry? ' the star, finally, speaks; repeats. ' you're sorry? ' their dagger is gripped so harshly, their hand struggles to remain still. the line across their throat, though healed, is visibly lost within an overflow of light. flared, shimmering -- unpredictably so.

you hate him.

they're angry. beyond that.

' maybe this is what i wanted; this was my choice and you're taking it from me! ' stop doing that!!! ' why, because it doesn't fit what you want? is that it!? '

another choice that wasn't liked, another interaction to try and mend and do over. wasn't that it? like a habit one couldn't break from. a relapse they had to stand by and watch, no matter what they did, what they tried, what they said.

nothing worked. nothing ever worked.

' it's still all a game to you, isn't it, stardust. ' theirs still a dagger in their hand. there's still a want to use it . . .

you hate them !!!

the smile stays pinned to the corners of their mouth. It’s easier to smile when you’re upset, after all.

( If you don’t smile, people will get mad at you.)

“correct. I do not know why people seem to have the idea that a child would be comfortable living in strange accommodations with adults they do not know. It is kind of stupid, if you ask me.”

They say it in a bright and chipper tone; one that can only come with practice. Toriel had always taught them how to behave diplomatically, even when their little human heart just wanted to lash out. After all, they were the HOPE between humanity and monsters, back then — it was only right for a little monarch to act properly —

lead them to a similar solution, though, didn't it? navigating away from the rest to find their own corners to settle in, choosing for themselves in place of whatever higher power existed.

' certainly doesn't look terrible, either! you have yourself quite the cozy living space. ' still can't say they're one hundred percent sold on the knowledge the poor kid stays out here alone. it shouldn't be their problem, it wasn't their business, they didn't have to worry.

. . . but they did. they were.

' hmm. next question! '

' how do you feel about a neighbor? just for tonight! ' to put their own feelings at ease, of course. feelings that pulled at the remnants of strings within a brightly lit chest; tugging at something protective. an old memory, an old impulse.

' not direct, of course. a few trees down! finding a comfy branch to spend the night was my original plan for coming all the way out here, you know? ' stick to what you're used to, right? they were no favor trees, but they were away from prying eyes and deep-in-thought wishers.

oh, but if that was how they wanted to spin this . . .

big battle at the castle, eh? easy to ignore if one steers clear, seems like, but it got isabeau thinking: what if someone takes the bait? even a small party won't be safe from getting candied! and neither is he, but he can't sit still when he could be putting his muscles to use-- the desire to help shouldn't come as a shock, anyway.

now, loop tagging along? there's a surprise! he didn't even know they could fight (isabeau's still keeping an eye on them, though; just in case)!

"...so, loop-de-loop?" he tests the nickname's mouthfeel, lilt buoyant to match his gait toward the looming castle, "the fit?? i never asked 'cuz i figured going au natural was a star-person thing, but you should've told me! we could've coordinated!"

weird implications, but who's he to question someone's (lack of) fashion choices? not to mention... uh...!? hold that thought.

"HOLY CRAB THAT'S A BIG CHICKEN!!" the quest's flavor text wasn't kidding! he really is shaking in his boots! it's a short-lived panic, though; adrenaline guiding his mace to his front. "and, not-so-big chickens?? huh. they're kinda cute--"

the flock turns in unison. candy eyes bore pure malice. a standstill, then...! they charge.

they weren't allowed something so simple. recast into a new performance, instead. one they had difficulty ignoring, no matter how many times they tried. no matter how often they tried not to look ( or walk, in this case ) in his direction.

always by someone's side, isn't he?

' . . . oh, could we have? ' apart from a raised brow, they at least respond to the nickname ( they're not sure how they feel about it ); hand motioning to their attire. time to get their act together. ' now wouldn't that be cute! what a missed opportunity. ' their skin is crawling, their chest hurts. ignore it.

a booming exclamation is sure enough to shake them out of it. for the time being, at least. startled eyes offering a blink as they take in the size of the looming . . . bird? they had been aware of it coming this far, but it really was something of a comical threat.

the little ones no less laughable, truthfully, but a fast approaching threat nonetheless! back to the stage, they know their role.

' it's a bit s'more than i was anticipating, ' there's a tilt in loop's head, directing their eyes away and pretending they can't see that ( unfortunately ) uplifting grin. temporary avoidance, however. the sound of sticky, rapidly approaching fluff all the reminder they needed to brandish a spoiled hook of peppermint.

swing! if a strike isn't answer enough, these little things don't seem keen on giving them time to compose themselves more than they already are.

You wonder if they'd really do it. It's not like you're going to intervene! You remember it well. The first time you humored it. The second it became a possibility. A way. They hated it, tried to deter you... Maybe with hindsight you can realize you were too far gone down a path you shouldn't try traveling down. Oh, but traveling is all you've known, isn't it? You think your footprints are already plenty worn on that path.

Wherever you are now is because you took that path. You can't go back. You only go forward. That's what the script demands.

You remember your insistence. You remember your demand. You remember how it broke them. A power beyond the two of you taking hold, granting you permission, feeding you an act previously forbidden. And you liked that. You liked that you did that. Whatever force took hold of them, whatever it was that let you get what you wanted. Even if all you gained was something you already had.

For a second, you had power. Over them. After hundred upon hundreds of insufferable looping you were above them! Haha. It was nice. You don't regret it. You won't take it back.

So you observe with twisted amusement. A threat you are unshaken by. A truth you're all too familiar with. A promise you'll enjoy the show, but if you're not the lead anymore you're not all that interested, to be honest... Ahaha. But the bravado is commendable.

It's so . . . funny .

Hahaha. "Heh... Ahaha..." Ohhhh, it's good!!! It's too good!!!!!!!! "HAHAHAA... Stop, stop!!! Mercy~!!!" You could keel over now, you struggle to breathe, your face aches, oh, it's hilarious!!!

You cover your mouth. You know you don't deserve to be happy, so showing off a smile is wrong. You muffle your laughter. This is a serious moment, after all! You're taking it very seriously, yes. It's the climax!! All that rising action for... THIS!!

COMEDIC, REALLY.

You frantically wave your free hand about as if its a bright white flag of surrender as you stifle more insentient giggling.

"Hehe... So you would after all, huh??" Oh, stars, did you snort? Hahaha... Ohh, you needed a laugh like this. Your sides are starting to hurt! "I had a feeling. You're so full of it. You never meant it." The spotlight is on you now, Siffrin!!! Does your understudy remember their lines? Well, it doesn't matter. From the top now!

"What do you mean 'I do have a dagger...'?" To lighten the mood, you throw on a comically quizzical expression as you tap a finger to your cheek, but there's not a thought in your head to think! Then, just as you remember it, the stern wave of shock washes over your face. "Stardust, are you serious? You want to stab yourself and die so you can loop back?"

A fake furrow of your brow, a pained expression as you recall them shouting. You shouldn't! But you did, and you will. Stabbing yourself isn't as easy as touching a Tear, you know! It is though. It got so much easier. It'll hurt! Only a little. A lot!!! Only the first time.

You're not a very good actor. You're not Loop, either. Seems you forgot your lines, because all you can say is...

watching them lose themselves in a crashing wave of hysterics, taking everything put forth as though it were nothing more than the punchline to a well told joke. one of the universes favorites, even! what a well played act, followed without error. perfected beyond what they ever could have hoped; beyond what they wanted. dreamed!

set alight with burning nausea that wove between their ribcage, coiling around every nerve until it sat wedged in their throat. were it possible to be made ill, they'd be relieved of this fire, but they weren't. never would be. it sits with them, coddles them. it's all they have. beneath a mountain of laughter, a memory of bile remained their lifeline.

but it was funny, wasn't it? because despite their reluctance, their insistence . . . it really was quite tempting, wasn't it. they could almost ( almost! ) see the appeal. after so long, so many loops. wishing, wanting. why couldn't it all just end?

warmth covers their hand, too. something thick coating their palm, slipping between clenched fingers and obscuring the lights that danced across their skin. ah, that's right. the dagger. they'd gone and held it too tight, hadn't they? noticed too late. what a pity.

you'll like it more than you'd think.

there's truth to it, isn't there? they'd like to be done, free of it all. no more repetition, no more watching some broken reflection play house with what should rightfully be theirs! forcing their ideal outcome, destroying everything so carefully built and cherished!

( you'll like it! ) they would. ( more than you'd think! ) they would!

' . . . pfft-- ' they would, they would, they would they would they would they would they would they would!! they would like it!! ' ahahaha!! you're right, stardust! you're right! ' oh, laughter truly is contagious, isn't it? too contagious, even. they can't stop.

even as tears well up in the corner of tightly shut crescents, loop keeps laughing. dagger left in their grip, arm supporting an abdomen rendered sore with the cacophony or bitter amusement. bloodied palm does its best to hold their face, muffling what it could ( if anything ).

' right to your neck, near instant death! whenever you want! ' haha! ' whenever you choose! ' why not now? here? a pleasant twist to this mirroring act! a reason to dance across this impromptu stage and brandish this minty dagger properly.

lights, curtains . . . hooked peppermint finds a home nestled beneath a pale chin, half-moon eyes brought to level with a down-turned one. don't use it. don't do this. . . is what they would have said. things change.

they want to kill themselves.

You shift, you move, but no attempt to pass is made this time. Rather, the aim now is to entertain, of course! Play the part, Siffrin! You have plenty of notes on Loop's character. The role feels almost too easy for you to slip into.

"I agree." You find a suitable spot, and sit. You cross your legs. Tent your hands. Hm, no, cross your legs the other way. Ah, there we go. You do what you know they cannot and let your smile widen from ear to ear. Gloating? A little. Why not relish in it if you're given the chance? I'm more than you'll ever be, stardust~! Mm, it's almost too easy to say.

This feels right in the most wrong of ways. You could choke on the bile that creeps up your throat if you didn't feel the need to use its warmth to comfort you.

But it's still not perfect. You don't know why it has to be. You know exactly why it has to be. You slouch, your hand reaching for the minty blade once again. Tap... tap... tap... it against your cheek. Float it in the thinnest space between your skin and the string that latches your eye-patch to your head.

You won't. But only one crescent-shaped eye does spoil your performance. You won't break it. You hate looking at it. That's why you cover it up in the first place. You won't. It's tempting, if only to commit to the act you play. But it's not worth it. You won't ruin it.

The scent of peppermint is pushed far enough away from you to not overwhelm. You're sick enough as it is. Heat in your throat, the itch in the back of your mind—you're having a bit too much fun with this. It's enough to make your head spin.

Oh well, who cares! More, more, more...!!!

"What am I to do? Maybe I'll take a nap. The sun feels quite nice." A sigh. You close your eyes in thought, entwining your fingers and placing your hands in your lap. You lean into your newfound role. "Hopefully you die quickly this time, it gets kinda boring waiting for you sometimes, you know?"

But Loop never said that to you, did they?

was this supposed to be that, then? a break. an actual moment of rest. sure didn't feel like one -- when was the last time it ever did?

even so, they watch siffrin take their place. rehersed and willingly to play a more supportive role while the spotlight flickered and dance, welcoming loop to center stage. right where they belong. where they believed they belonged. was rather difficult to discern if they still did, or not.

who cared! here they were, a grand reveal still let a mystery to their adoring audience . . . of one.

fingers dance idly over sharpened peppermint; tracing the shape, envisioning that which wasn't there. in time it comes to rest, tip of a star-speckled digit caressing an enticing edge.

discomfort grazed them, still, imaging it turned against themselves. an act the young traveler performed far better than they could. than they had, but . . . there was always room for change, wasn't there? a little bit of improvisation.

' doesn't it? ' they muse, sugar threatening to dip into a deep shade of curiosity. it doesn't quite get its chance, not yet. perhaps they sank into their role a bit too easily, as well.

there's a smile they can't quite erase.

' oh, don't worry! i'll remember. ' they always do. ' there won't be a single pillar gone unchecked, or page left unturned. i wouldn't dream of trapping myself within those walls, but . . . not to fear, ' they bristle with an audible giggle, sugary dagger glistening beneath their light as its held near their throat. its angle aided by the opposite hand, as if holding it on display.

' i have an easy means back right here! you won't be without me for long. ' aah, how unfortunate. they're almost enjoying themselves with this.

You feel your teeth grind together as you force the smile on your face not to waiver. The blade you wave uncomfortably close to your face soon dangles by its hilt, caught on the bare skin of your hand, twirled around your forefinger as you hum in amusement.

Because it's funny. So, so, so funny. Melting, just like all this blinding chocolate will soon enough. You'd like that.

You can't make it by yourself. What makes them so certain of that?

Like most things Loop says to you, this nestles its way under your skin so easily. It irritates you. How do they know that? After so long, they knew—just like you did—after so long it really was just you! Your friends, all reduced to skills and moves. You were the one that could handle anything! Everything! They only needed to act when it was their cue. You did the rest of the work. Just you. So why can't it just be you now? Here? Why do you need anyone else??

There is static buzzing in your head now and for a second you make a horrible mistake. For a second you recognize a sound, a scratchy purr that you swear you briefly understand. A word. A plea. No. A demand.

Encore.

Amidst the humming you can hear it. Encore! Who are you to refuse? Encore! Really, who could possibly be satisfied with the curtain call you left them? Encore! You're quite capable of pulling the rope yourself. Encore! Capable of calling yourself back out for applause.

Even if all you'll ever be met with in return is derision.

"Oh, and you're going to help me?" It's not the world that breaks, despite the noise you're so familiar with, it's you. "Why now? Because it's easier for you now?" Because this world's transformation is a joke? It really is just a game now, isn't it Loop?! There's no stakes here. But it's all the same to you. A House full of Sadness, a Castle filled with Candy, it doesn't matter!! A King, a Witch, WHO CARES?!

You don't. It's all the same. A funny, silly game. An effort to make the haunting tale you'll tell by the end of it something that won't frighten the children or something. Can't be scared of any threats when they're so sweetly delivered, right? Haha. Oh, wait. You've already scared them. Hm...

"Go to the castle yourself then, if you want to so badly." Or will they ask for your help? What help can you even offer? You're useless. There's a joke in here somewhere... what's the term? You're... oh! That's right. You've got it: You're dead weight. It'd be even funnier if Loop begged for your help though. But you know they wouldn't stoop that low. You know they're above that. Still. "I'll wait."

none of it was easy. none of it was ever easy! not then, not now, not ever again!

it's almost deafening, the rush of white noise that infiltrates their head. siffrin's words heard, yet simultaneously drowned out by a growing wave of static. popping, crackling . . . ringing. loud, piercing ringing.

go to the castle yourself then. they feel another twitch. heat prickling against flaring skin, speckled lights across their person sparkling; shifting, moving. rearranged and replaced. like a universe being made undone, and redone. composure lost, and regained.

oh, had the world grown bright? hotter? no, it hadn't. had it? it was them, wasn't it? a star left on its last legs, burning under the stress.

then, it's gone. that deafening ring. their temperature, too, settles. barely.

' and do your job for you? ' loop's snicker is as hollow as their smile, an expression mirrored as they angle their head. a job they've had time to improve, becoming more cautious, more aware. they remembered things better, forgot what wasn't necessary. how tempting!

teehee.

' what's next, i take your victory? lead your party? ' tempting, tempting, tempting~!! they can't help but laugh, fingers idly lifting their own dagger between their grasp. star-speckled digits reach, and glide, over a curved blade. ' you know . . . '

it hooks against their finger, left to dangle for a breaths time until spun. twirled within their hold like a form of mocking mimicry. it came so easily to them, too. it was soooo easy -- just like everything else here! it was easier, right? so. much. easier.

. . . it stops. handle flipped into an awaiting palm, blade pointed until it shifts with a shrug.

' i think i'd play the part quite nicely! don't you? ' wouldn't that just be hysterical?

they certainly think so~~!!

You're an awful hypocrite. You knew this before your refusal was spat out. Before this sugary affliction, you were almost—almost humoring the fact that Loop has so much more autonomy here. Now you're rescinding that.

Go back to just sitting under that tree and waiting for me to talk to you. You want to say that. You almost do. You don't.

It only gets more tempting the longer you resist. You deprive yourself the satisfaction. That's the sweetest thing you can do, after all. Not that they'd know. Or maybe they do. Your head is hardly your own around them.

You are in quite the standstill now though. It feels much the same to being trapped in time. There is no way out of this. If you leave now, Loop will simply follow. If you stay here, Loop will remain to spite you. It doesn't matter what either of you were really doing now. You're stuck.

Your smile gets worse. The sentiment you withheld still sits at the tip of your tongue, but you've figured out a way to say it all, short and sweet.

"You'll only slow me down." The silly candyland you inhabit now can endow them with whatever it wants to make them feel special. In turn, it can deprive you of whatever it thinks you have that might grant you the upper hand. You still have a knife, and you'd sooner kill y-be remiss not to relish in your speed.

it would be so much easier, wouldn't it? if they could simply be left under that tree. sitting and waiting, experiencing only so much until their connection was pulled taut -- diminishing the further up he climbed the house. the moment he reached the kings chambers, and further still.

that's what he wanted. for that thread to snap, to cut them out.

they wouldn't stand to see that same mistake played out twice. they refused to live through witnessing the build up to that same breaking point, watching the edge grow closer and closer until they toppled over it. destroying himself any further than he already has.

they knew what that was like. all too well, even. they hated seeing it from a different perspective.

' in the heat of the moment you'll set your sights on poor, little me~? oh, stardust, you'll have me melting under the attention! stop~~!! ' like static, their silhouette flares -- playing to the beat of forced laughter. a waving hand conducting the sound before rising, as though to silence a mouth not present.

a pause. silence. it doesn't last.

he's done this before. not again, not again, not again.

You stick our your tongue, if your hands weren't occupied, you may have given them an easy thumbs down. "It's sweet enough here as it is." So much so you could gag. So much so you can barely think straight. But whooooo caaaaares about that! You have something you need to do.

"But yeah! I think you're right!" Another slide across, quick and to the point. "Please be sharp," you beg, a horrible, ugly, disgusting smile on your face now. "Say... How sharp should I make it?" You pause to let them think on it, but don't wait for an answer before you start again.

"I want it to be sharp enough to fight the monsters in the castle, I heard they're pretty strong..."

Swipe.

"So how sharp do you reckon that is?"

Swipe.

"They're just candy, after all. So I don't think too much will do them in. Even if they are really tough."

Swipe.

"Oh, I know." Teehee. "Please be sharp enough to cut through cloth like it's barely even there. Please be sharp enough to break skin so easily, you don't even feel the pain!"

Okay, you're satisfied. You think it listened to you. Your dagger feels more like a dagger than a piece of candy and you like the way it sits in your hand now. Familiar...? Not really, but close enough. You pocket your stone away and rise to your feet. You tilt the freshly sharpened dagger in their direction, batting your eye with an innocence you know you don't possess.

how sharp should he make it? they knew they'd get no say, no room to answer. they'd pace things quite similarly. cutting him off should he even attempt to; throwing in something new to keep him thinking. suspended in an observant silence.

a silence just as they were kept in now, a silence that drew their attention to a sugary blade. watching every swipe across the stone beneath. sharp enough, sharp enough, sharp enough. . .

to cut through cloth. loop's eyes sharpen alongside the others dagger, a twitch animating the tips of fingers. to break skin and not feel the pain that follows. another twitch, but not from their finger. it animates their eyes.

they gradually arch. they're smiling along with him!

' the monsters in the castle, you said? is that where you're headed, stardust? ' teehee. ' how funny~!! '

carefully, their head tilts. angled towards a shoulder now drenched in an increasing brightness. like a flash of teeth in a mirrored, horrible, disgusting smile. could they still discern a face within the light? did it really matter?

let's bring it on home! really give him something to resent -- cast emotion into this audience of one!

their act presses on with a step forward. once, twice; one after another. all for a prodding finger to rest against the tip of a tilted blade; a weapon all but brandished for them. and they push. leading it, directing it towards the ground below.

' no wonder i stumbled across you along the way. ' creaking open, mismatched hues squint with forced delight. loop presses on, of course. as if they were expecting a warmer rebuttal as they lean in; inviting themselves. ' you should take me with you, stardust! '

teehee! ah, there they go. pulling back at last.

So that’s … a definite no, then. An answer that’s vague like that is just as good as being a negative one.

Chara knew they shouldn’t get their hopes up, but they did anyway, like an child, and now it feels as if they’ve been punched in the gut, all the air whisking out of their lungs.

(Serves you right for getting hopeful. You don’t deserve anyone from Home, anyway.)

The smile stuck on their face feels wrong, but Chara keeps it pasted there anyway, as they take a quick glance at their little dilapidated fort.

no going back now, though. even if there sat a quiet 'what if' at the back of their mind, a miniscule want to try again. to see what sort of reaction they would have received should their answer have differed. would their smile sit brighter? stretch wider?

huh. they thought they were well passed such fleeting curiosities. old habits really did die hard, didn't they?

' not a fan of your given accommodations? i guess we have that in common! ' it was partially the reason they had come out this far to begin with, alongside the ever-looming want to fade from view. what earned them the right to live normally again, anyway?

' and . . . no. you being out here doesn't bother me. ' not fully -- at all, actually. much as they would have preferred a vacant pathway, they couldn't complain. ' my being out here doesn't bother you, does it? i was only passing through, after all. '

but they're giving pause, a bundled lump of unease settled in the pit of ( what should be ) their stomach. this didn't feel . . . right.

They’ve successfully commandeered the blankets and pillows from the home they were assigned. Honestly, it was easier than they expected— no one was there, and Chara was quick, taking only what they needed, and ignoring everything that wasn’t necessary for their treehouse.

Well.

it’s still a floor house. The base of it is built, mostly, and it’s comfortable enough to sleep in now, but it’s still stuck on the woods floor. Chara hasn’t quite figured out how to get it up in the trees yet.

Anyway.

it’s late. The sun is setting, and Chara is tired and cold. They’ve got one blanket wrapped around them, while the other two lay as padding shoved in the corner for when they sleep.

But

there is someone (a monster?) on the pathway. Chara watches, standing outside their tree(floor)house, fingers gripping the blankets closer.

A pause. There’s — a spark of hope, maybe — that —

“are you from… my world?”

They say it with such — hesitation. But there’s hope, there’s more hope there than Chara didn’t realize they were clinging onto. This person doesn’t look human in the slightest — they almost look like a save point, if they focus enough.

It’s been so … lonely. It’s been so lonely, with only humans around, and sure they’ve made a few friends but they’re so —

they had entered these woods as a means of fading away. hidden from the people, the noise and their eyes -- so many eyes. staring, watching. a disgusting sight, weren't they? unlike anyone else, unlike what was supposed to be. thinking about it only made their skin crawl, urging their fingers to take hold of themselves. as if to make it stop; smother the feeling. best not to think about that, now.

there was more pressing matters. like this other person that occupied the forest alongside them -- a child, at that. nestled by what looked to be a makeshift home, tucked beside a sturdy tree. they take note of the clutched blanket, brows slanting with growing confusion.

it only grows as the child speaks.

were they hoping for someone? a face they might know. how unfortunate, then, that they were given a fallen star, instead. pitiful thing. not even worthy of wishing upon. . . haha!

that's enough of that.

' i'm certainly from somewhere. ' loop offers, light shifting as their head tilts. there's something more hidden within the child's hesitation, something hopeful. they'll leave their answer as it were, and move away from it with one of their own.

' is this little house . . . yours? ' they motion to it with a pointed finger, eyes shifting between it and the child. it barely seemed finished, just enough to keep a small roof over their head. they slept out here, in that?

You've had a time trying to figure out how to sharpen this blinding dagger. There's just... no way it works in this state. You can barely stand looking at it, it feels so unserious! But whatever. It should still do the job, they wouldn't parade them as weapons if it didn't. You just wish it looked a little more threatening, or was shaped more like your own so you didn't have to adjust.

You slide your candy cane dagger across an equally, annoying sweet butterscotch sharpening stone. This is all you've got to work with. You mumble under your breath, to make sure it works.

"Please be sharp, if you're not, those blinding monsters will only make this sugar high worse. Please be sharp..."

But you stop. You have company, you can tell because they're bright enough to reflect off the candied stepping stones. Your turn to be pestered again, is it? Might as well just get it over with then.

what a heartbreaking surprise. they could almost roll their eyes at the passing thought, but a smile better suited their moment. always did, didn't it? a question that needn't be humored with an answer, they were moving on from it. instead, the star's attention shifts. from siffrin to the butterscotch stone before them, and back again.

' keeping busy, i see! i've been trying to do the same, but . . . ' clap! hands come together, rising and propped beside what would be a cheek as their head is ( cutely ) tilted against it. an adorable display, they'd say; an unspoken plea as they continued, ' it was getting soooo lonely without you, stardust! '

' so, i thought it would be sweet to drop by~! '

but that's not how this song and dance worked, not with them. he knew -- they both did. coincidental, is all it was. but that was enough, wasn't it? seizing the chance at that moment of recognition, roping the other into a chat. into . . . something. it's what they neededwanted, wasn't it? . . . wasn't it? whatever.

it didn't matter! they've spun their lie, and it was time to continue the act. as they always did; always would.