#emptyxhere

@emptyxhere

A noise. In their Underground. It was strange to Mal, hearing the voice of another ringing out through the empty, empty caverns. It had been so long since they heard any voice that wasn’t their own– Enough that they thought they were about to go crazy or something. And coming closer, hearing her call out each sickeningly familiar name with growing desperation throughout Snowdin, Mal found their jaw clenched as they approached.

Peculiar. They thought, as they stared at her with a tilted head, face devoid of any comprehensible expression. On the inside, they mostly struggled to understand why this was happening, where did she come from, how dare she come in expecting all the monsters to be here as if happy endings existed–

“What brings you here?” Came their question, staring at her with a steel look.

hearing a voice, Red turned towards it with hope in her eyes... and immediately that smile started to fade. so this wasn’t... ok, that means she hadn’t brought everyone back. it also meant she wasn’t dreaming. and with a silent stare-the question taking time to reregister... she knew why the underground was empty.

then the question clicked again. “... I don’t know. I woke up on the bed of flowers. at first I thought... I hoped this was another nightmare but...” but it wasn’t. not with... an all too familiar face staring back. how was she facing herself? and the cold was biting too fiercely for this to be a dream.

a portion of her immediately threw blame on the dust she could see on Mal’s clothing, but just as quickly as the thought came, she pushed it away. Chara always said it wasn’t choice to run through with the kills, but something else. And she trusted Chara, they worked well together... even if she never felt the strings Chara talked about.

@emptyxhere

The last thing Frisk expected while wandering the Underground for possibly the umpteenth time, was to run into some really tall… monster? That couldn’t be right. They had killed every monster. And although they met some tall monsters during their adventure, they had not once run into anyone like this before. They’ve never seen him before. And it had been so long since Frisk had dealt with the last living monsters, other than Flowey, that it didn’t make sense why this person would suddenly show up now.

Looking up curiously, they gripped their knife as they itched to stab him just to know they haven’t gone insane at this point. Was he real? They couldn’t tell. The way he spoke didn’t help either. They took a step forward, albeit a cautious one. “Yeah.” They muttered, “Who’re you?”

“That’s a loaded question I doubt you want the full answer too. For simplicity’s sake, I am a Visitor. you can call me the Slenderman, if you wish. most do these days.” he casually readjusted a glove as white as his skin. 

“...if you feel threatened, I’m sorry. there's little I can do about my appearance, but that knife won’t work like you’d expect, even with the weight you carry that has made you strong.” instead, now with the glove readjusted, he offered a hand... did he shrink a little so they wouldn’t have to reach up to his hand?

@emptyxhere

It’s his own fault for having allowed himself to submit to the ever consuming thought process regarding everything he’s experienced thus far in life; something he finds himself doing often when he’s without any other form of stimulus. If he was paying more attention he would have picked up on the subtle cue that came with the child’s heavy footfall as the grass flattened beneath their weight. But he doesn’t, not immediately.

He disappeared into the earthy ground below just moments before he heard the heavy thud of their foot making contact with the section of grass he had occupied just moments before. Had it not been for the gentle breeze caused by their movements or the shadow cast over his form, he would have not noticed their impending form and would have found himself, too, flattened beneath the sole of their shoe.

Is he about to admit to the truth behind their statement, however? That he should have been paying more attention?

Of course not.

Reappearing just a few inches away with his expression twisted into one of scorn, the pointed tips of his teeth bared as he listens to the other respond to his shout. Frisk’s laughter is one that’s familiar, as is the tone of their voice. It’s similar to that which he’s used himself many times before; all while he inflicted some kind of torture on another, be it physical or mental. To hear it come from Frisk, however....

A noise of disgust escapes him.

Send ✪ for my character to reveal how they feel about yours.                         

❖   POSITIVE. I think you’re awesome ║ I like you ║ I want to go on a date with you  ║  I love you  ║ You’re cute/handsome ║ I want to marry you  ║ You’re attractive  ║ I wish we could spend more time together!  ║ I’d like to get to know you better  ║  I admire you  ║ You’re someone that I look up to  ║ You’re very kind  ║ I consider us friends  ║ I secretly have a crush on you  ║ I have high respect for you  ║ We have common interests  ║ I’m happy that I met you

❖     NEGATIVE.

The small outburst was to be expected after all, but it did little to deter Zep from wanting to reach out to someone that he could tell was... not in the best mindset. His expression was unchanging: patient and calm with a strange depth of warmth.

“I’m sorry... I know I step out of line when I’ve said this, and in many ways you’re right to be pissed with me. I’m just a stranger who has no business with this world let alone with your personal affairs... But...” He sighed and sat himself down somewhere. “Even if I don’t know anything, I can’t in good conscience ignore someone who is in pain...” Zep looked at the ground for a moment, and although he had no way of knowing anything about Frisk’s situation, their history with genocide or with the player, there was one thing that seemed plain to him when he saw the expression on Frisk’s face.