#sponstar

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 —

It wasn't your intention to find them again. So soon. Too soon? That's debatable. Your answer would probably depend on your mood. You didn't expect to see them here though.

It only kind of irritates you. You like this spot. You like the way the sand feels under your shoes, looking out at the boats, trying to seeing something that doesn't exist out over the horizon. This was your spot!! And they're here!! Whatever. You're over it. Not really.

You hide your gaze under the brim of your hat as you approach. Might as well bother them if they're going to bother you!

"Look what I found." You make a show of rooting around in your endless pockets, but you know exactly what you want to show off is. When you're confident your fumbling has them as quietly annoyed as you are, you display a dried starfish, bleached by the sun.

You hold it out in front of you, stretching your arm straight. It obfuscates their face and yours in turn probably, with the distance you have set between it and one another. You tilt it, adjusting it so one of the pointed protrusions covers their eye—the eye that is a darker shade. You're not sure why that eye, but it feels right. You feel more hidden this way.

They didn't want to see you anyway, right? This counts. Probably.

You continue to stare at the starfish, or, excuse you, sea star, as you're sure someone would correct you. You do not regard it with the same strange fondness you felt when you first found it. But the connection is still there. More so now than then you think. If you unfocused your gaze, it'd blur and blend in with the faint glow of their head. Hardly distinguishable.

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.

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

A star. That's the only thing they could be. Typically stars were impossibly distant, and once you got close, they had a nasty habit of killing you. Radiation, gravitational pull, burning you to a crisp - fun stuff! That didn't matter very much when he was a being of pure energy, but... he had experienced something similar when he'd tried to reach the stars the first time. Or, well, not him - but everyone else around him had. The obsession with them had always remained however, if not a little bittersweet now.

Seeing them framed against the night sky, light fizzling in every which way, so close and yet exactly what he'd imagined them to look like from childhood, one that doesn't turn into a mass of fire when you look harder, just sheer light - it takes him off guard. He remembers being small and looking up, just like this. He's completely taken off guard by it, eye wide and staring up at them in a hazy wonder, not quite here all of the sudden.

Subconsciously, a hand reaches out in an attempt to grab it; perhaps this time he can hold onto this idealized image of it. He's instantly taken off guard as their gaze focuses on him - since when did stars have eyes, why had they never looked back at him then - and a voice speaks.

"Don't think about it!"

He instantly snaps out of whatever fog he'd found himself in. Stars don't talk. He'd floated a small distance in his attempt to get a hold on them, and he quickly glided backwards. What the hell was that about? There's a moments pause as he comes back to earth, gathering his bearings once more. Once he does, his first response is to deflect, of course.

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.

Send, "Don't think about it!" for sender to help receiver break out of a flashback.

Just looking at the leaves makes your skin itch. You remember. Better than you should. Want to. You look at the tree, and... strangely enough... you swear you see yourself at the top of it. With Loop. Like before.

Before. Haha. Right. You're blinded, briefly, horrifically, just like before. That horrible flash. You feel it. First in the way you flinch, then in the way your throat tightens. It then laps at your eye, a frothing pain behind your eye patch. You close your eye, not because you want to, or because it will dull the pain, but because it's so blinding bright. When you open it again, you see the House.

And you know. What happened. They died. And you hate that you let that happen. You hate that Loop let you let that happen. Then, you think, they made it. It's a thought that keeps squatting in your mind, shooing whatever else could hope to quell it away. They made it without you. You're useless. They've never really needed you.

No one in your life, as far as you can remember (and, let's be real, even if you did remember,) has ever truly needed you. You're dead weight, latching on because that's the only way you have purpose. You lie and cheat your way into being leader, being the finder, being strong enough to bring along in the first place. But you're not good at any of those things. Why did you join them? Why are you still here?

Why'd they let someone like you tag along...?

They don't need you, they were just placating you. They could make it to the King this whole time. Sure, they lost, but you know if they were stuck like you that probably means they'd figure it out in half the time. You're even useless at being stuck in a loop! Haha!!! Isn't that funny~!

So why do you even exist? The world would go on without you! It's that just grand?? They never needed you to make it through the House, they all just pretended they did so you could feel like you were important. To them, to yourself. But you're not.

You fade away in an instant. You're real, you know that, they don't have to remind you again. They won't, you know they couldn't stand having to. So then why turn to face them? Why are you looking at them like that? So desperately. Talk to me, you beg, please, acknowledge me.

They don't.

They don't even talk to you. But you hear them. In your head. Like you always would.

Even though they're right in front of you . . .

Stardust.

That's you. How'd they put it? You're what's left. What terrible remains you make. They should cast you out to sea, maybe then you'll drift out amongst the waves until you lie with the sands on the shore of your home. Or maybe you'll just sink. Either way, you won't live to see it, will you?

Don't think about it.

The scariest part is you know that they know exactly what it is you've lost yourself in. They always seem to know what you're thinking. So you know they would believe you if you reply, if only it were that easy. You're reminded of it every moment, aren't you? Alone, with others, in a crowd, in the empty open field you wake up in after every time!!!!! Ah. Well. That doesn't happen here. The scenery doesn't matter. An empty field, an empty bedroom, what difference does it make? You'll always think about it.

He can't help the way he stares - distantly, he's aware that it's probably rude, but that pales in comparison to the sense of awe he feels. He hasn't really seen anyone like this before. Yes, he's seen more than his fair share of blinding lights, but never in a concrete form before. Definitely not as a person. At least, he's fairly certain that's what they were..? He'd rather not assume, so he supposes the easiest thing to do is ask.

"Excuse me - what... are you?"