#frisk 02

Chara isn’t surprised. From what they can tell, Frisk lost their SAVE power when they left the mountain, so they’re not used to. . .experiencing RESETS anymore. They probably thought they were awake for a lot longer than they were.

Oops.

Still. Chara’s stayed by Frisk’s side, just as promised. No disappearing, except to go to the bathroom. They’re settled in the bed, reading The Three Musketeers, for most of the day — and when Frisk begins to stir, they glance over to them, placing the book down.

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” they say with a tease, brushing away Frisk’s bangs. “Feeling better? Hungry?”

In all the world, in all the universe, there couldn’t be any place more important to the growth of an Empire than a library. After all, they were a repository of near infinite knowledge and therefore the place that one came to home and develop skills. To become stronger. Previous Noxian rulers had still made ample use of libraries, but in fear of their positions being jeopardised did not encourage literacy or even banned self-betterment through literature.

Not so with Swain.

He enjoyed reading, thinking and learning. After all, books were probably the best way barring personal experience to learn and know about other countries and techniques. Right now, for example, the general was pouring over different tomes in order to learn various different languages. Each had different script and grammatical rules, with only a few bearing resemblance to his own common tongue.

     He supposed this would be a good way to get his mind off of his aching soul. His magic had been faltering in the slightest, nightmares creeping back into his schedule. They were no doubt caused by his constant compunction over his past. Perhaps they were even fabricated by the nervousness surrounding a reset. It wasn’t that he mistrusted Frisk, but he knew they had the power. Or, at least, they once did. He didn’t dare bring it up, but when his insomnia kicked in, so did the thoughts. Was there one already that he had missed? Would he wake up one day as a flower once more?

     Despite his original distaste, the idea of living without his city was terrifying. Even with the blood and death and violence and experimentation, he was trying to be happy here. Even if all he ate was bread. Typically. 

     Frisk promised to teach him a super special recipe. He saved up for the ingredients (reading the labels multiple times to be safe) and finally had they all set up on the counter. 

“OF COURSE YOU DO! YOU ARE OF COURSE QUITE BRIGHT!” He’s sparkling, somehow. Possibly from pure excitement. “THEREFORE, I PROPOSE THAT THE TWO OF US ENGAGE IN A MAGNIFICENT DANCE OF FRIENDSHIP!! WHAT SAY YOU?”