#stickid

New year, new episode!

Let's turn back the clock a bit to the start of the last episode. We find Stickid wondering where Kevin went after suddenly disappearing, only to disturb Muffin who seems awfully busy brooding. Hopefully the multi-million dollar emotional robot can get to the bottom of the tiny snack's rage. Check it out with the links below! Here it is on Webtoon!

tries to hop onto a chair to see the weird contraption and makes grabby hands motion towards the dial. does it work yet? what does he want to hear?

         “It is not ready yet, little one.”

       Though, it was apparent he could easily acquire his tools himself--why not turn his spell of restlessness into something productive for the both of them? 

@stickid | Dear Diary

      The handwriting is sloppy and slopes to one side as it continues down the page, but it’s legible enough to read (on certain pages, admittedly)

          ‘    The surface it’s…               It’s just like I remember it… I’d forgotten how           good the sun felt on my face. The kid… Frisk…           did what no monster could.                They managed to do what even dad–’

      The text is illegible for a section, before becoming readable once more further down. 

         ‘    I guess I gotta thank the kid for bringin’ this            back… for showin’ mercy. I’ve never seen Pap           smile as big as he has been lately, and I owe            the kid for doin’ what I couldn’t…

Send me a URL and I'll tell you the following; (Semi-Selectively Accepting!)

{{ These can get awfully long, so I've placed this under a ReadMore for convenience reasons! }}

@stickid

          their eyes nearly miss the hand, sight blurred in the darkness & the tears they could barely contain. fear was a strange thing, something they hadn’t truly experienced in their time in the underground, but somehow felt so concentrated in this room alone; was it theirs? they weren’t too sure either. but as they thought the fingers would grasp along their own, they wondered if the man’s touch was warm. a hiccup nearly made them flinch away from the phalanges that stroked against their face to take the droplets away, but they held steadfast,determined to stay for just a moment longer, now knowing that the man also meant no harm. a sniffle, hoping in some way to tell him they weren’t frightened. just… a little sad.

        their own outstretched hand came back, a little shaky, but pressed their palm against the one that dared to float close. they hoped, they dearly & truly hoped, he wouldn’t disappear like the last time, even though they could feel the want to be alone. maybe it was the man’s own fear & dread, to be with someone they didn’t quite know. but it was a funny turn, to finally hear him speak in tones other than surprise & to fade away until it was like he never existed in the first place. & it was even more humorous that they couldn’t understand a word he said. it wasn’t something they could recognize, in a language they couldn’t interpret other than the sadness that seemed to linger in the air like the tar on the ground. in a strange way, it seemed to fit the two. that they couldn’t truly speak in the same tongue, but they could understand their actions & their intentions.

        in daring thought they let their hand squeeze a bit tighter on the other’s, even letting their head be heavy in its touch. it took so much to get here, to find this place & to see the man in the room again, & they only wanted to stay with him even if just for a short time. if he wouldn’t stay, they will try to stay with him for as long as they can. though they knew this place wasn’t right, somehow wasn’t supposed to be here, they wanted to keep him company.

         the human doesn’t know what it’s like to be left alone for so long. they think it must be sad. so they linger, & try to stay though there was nothing they could truly do or say, & try to show him they wanted to be friends.

                               The mysterious monster watched the human carefully as they pulled his errant hand closer, squeezing, affording warmth he’d not known for centuries, it seemed. His existence was one of fragmented extremes--he was and was not--he was a forgotten thought, just there and gone, easily discarded. He was also rage, and apathy--sadness, grief, and nothing--cold. The human’s hand remained, it was squeezing, they were REAL and alive, they were everything he once forsook. He remained despite the hollow tug of oblivion--only there was no end, not really. The blackness would continue with the quiet whispers of near-by echo flowers, replaying wishes and memories the lost creature could no longer harbor.

He frowned, his shapeless appearance oozed dark matter upon the grey slate flooring as the pervasive numbness which clouded his broken soul ebbed in painful throbs. They were crying--this human was crying, but why? Was he so terrifying to behold? What--did he resemble now? How long had it been since he’d discerned his own visage? He could scarcely recall the structure of his own bones; everything was so bleary--

They cried, they reached for him, they smiled--but why?

📬 📬 📬 🕈☟✡ 👎⚐ ✡⚐🕆 👍☼✡📪 👍☟✋☹👎✍

      [ . . . WHY DO YOU CRY, CHILD? ]

Why? What did they hope to accomplish? What MORE could be done?

He loomed, there was no desire to pull away and retreat--no, not yet. It was with some effort, that the looming monster finally slunk down to meet the child’s tear addled gaze. There was something (though the shadow could not be sure WHAT) that hung at his core, a thought far too heavy to discard.

❄☟☜☼☜ ✋💧 ☠⚐❄☟✋☠☝ ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆 ❄⚐ 💣⚐🕆☼☠📬

really old meme || @stickid

     a cold laughter is all he offers for a moment at the kid’s words–and it feels as empty as the promise they just made, because he knows better. he knows how things are going to end sooner or later; maybe not in this timeline, not in this reset but it’ll happen at some point. and it’s been too long since he really cared—-about the dust covering the kid’s hands, about the trail of death they leave behind every now and then.

                 ( about papyrus, toriel, undyne and so many others. )

     it’s cruel, indeed; he should be better than that. he shouldn’t have allowed numbness to take over his broken soul so easily, to let feelings and emotions towards people he once called family be twisted and corrupted beyond any repair; he shouldn’t have become a monster worst than the flower and the child he despises so much.

            * ‘m sure ya will, kiddo             * ye’re a good kid

           dread   was   only   the   accent   of   their   malignant   canvas,   tints   &   shades.   one   would   find   it   in   their   red,   looming   skies     /     or   their   grey,   withering   valleys.     what   was   a   monster     /     but   once   a   man   with   eyes   full   of   fear ?     little,   terrible  things   that   worm   their   way   into   the   human   heart     /     turn   it   black   &   hard,   charcoal.     surely,   children   were   no   different.