hadriel | Video (forward-dated to the 25th)

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Video (forward-dated to the 25th)

[Frisk looks a little beat up, today. And that’s okay; they look how they feel; barely capable of getting out of bed and more tired than they’ve ever been. The busted lip is healing. One side of their face is just one big bruise. But their speech, when it comes, is calm enough.]

Monster funerals are really cool. That’s what they told me.

When a monster dies, they turn into dust. And then you sprinkle that dust on their favorite thing. Then their essence lives on in it forever.

I… [A purse of their lips. Silence, before they reluctantly go on.] I don’t know where Asriel’s dust is. But I have Sans’, and…

[More silence. Eventually, they hold up a pad of paper, a pen. Already, the borders have been filled in with as many cartoonish stars as possible, but there’s a lot of space there.]

I don’t feel very funny right now, but he loved jokes.

...Does anyone know any good ones?

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[ There's a really long, labored silence that starts. Noctis hardly knew Asriel and has yet to meet Sans. Learning that they have perished is both severely disturbing and... Odd. He recalls Asriel telling him that death is not a permanent end within Hadriel, but he can't help the sinking feeling he gets. ]

[ Noctis finds himself extremely torn, unsure if expressing condolences is appropriate or necessary. If expressing his own concern is correct or needed... He's finding himself intimidated and awkward in the face of a child. Not exactly his strong suit here, and he's so sure he should address this death thing first. ]

[ Augh, but Frisk... Frisk wants a joke to feel better. Frisk is a good kid. Noctis wants so badly to help but he's not sure if it's right but... ]

[ He clears his throat. ]

What, uh...

What do Moogles use when they go shopping?

[ Good lord, why is he doing this? ]

[Their response is delayed, but it's not due to hesitation, at least. They carefully write down the start of the joke, childish handwriting not the neatest, but as small as they can make it, before quietly responding]

I dunno. What do Moogles use?

[...And uh. What is a Moogle?]

[ Noctis sighs, realizing halfway through this joke that there is a very, very large chance Frisk has no idea what a Moogle even is. He was already embarrassed at even participating in this, now he's pretty sure he'll have to explain the joke and render it even less funny than it already was. ]

[ You can't see it, but he's covering his face. So his response is slightly muffled. ]

Kupons.

Edited 2017-01-21 05:39 (UTC)

[Hahaha wow yeah they have no idea what he's talking about. But they still write it down, smile weak but there (it's a bad joke, and honestly; that's exactly the kind of joke Sans would want).]

What's a Moogle?

[ See this? This is an example of a bad choice, Noctis. He sighs a bit into his hand again. ]

They're...

These small, fuzzy beast-like things. Purple wings, big red puff on their head. "Kupo" is just a thing they say, aaaaand now this joke is even less funny than it was before.

[ Why did he do this? ]

[So it's an animal pun. They still, absolutely do not understand- but that's fine. The fact that he's trying to hide how embarrassed he is still pulls a smile onto their lips.]

It's still a good joke, don't worry.

Can you draw?

[ Noctis can't believe he just did that. He's not a comedian, and he's sure as shit not good at playing along with these kind of things. But he can't help but try for the sake of making Frisk happy. They're a good kid. ]

Hah.

[ That's the only noise he can manage to the compliment. ]

Ah--

Not... Really. Stick figures, sure. I could try if you need help.

Edited 2017-02-08 20:54 (UTC)

[Gosh, he really is silly. There's a soft noise (is it laughter?) before Frisk responds.]

Can you draw a moogle?

[ He still feels incredibly awkward, but at least Frisk seems to be pleased with the offer of help. And maybe the joke. Weird as it is. ]

Er... Sure.

It'll be terrible. Not sure if you can rely on my drawing of it. Won't look anything close to it.

You should try anyway. I won't laugh, promise.

[That's a promise they can keep, right? Sorry Sans.]

[ Lunafreya smiles when she sees Frisk's face pop up on the network, but upon seeing the state of their injuries, she frowns. She listens to their message, and before she knows it, she's switching on her own camera, her expression riddled with concern.

She may not have known of Frisk's friends, but she gathers what context that she can. ]

Monster funerals... sound lovely. A celebration of their lives, it seems. [ She wants to say she's sorry, but she knows that platitudes can only go so far. ]

I fear I do not know many jokes, but of the ones I have... This one is the funniest.

What do you call a parade of rabbits jumping backwards?

[Hey lil' mama, they'd whisper in your ear, but- it hasn't been the best of days. They try for a smile, manage- something, they think. Sit up a little straighter so at least, she knows that they're paying attention to her.]

Yeah. It's nice. [It's supposed to be, at least. Which is why it's so unfair that, out of everything, Sans' dust had to fall on them, first.

At least they can try to make it right.]

A parade of rabbits jumping backwards? [A hum. They're scribbling the joke onto the paper, even as they shake their head.] I dunno. What?

[ The smile Lunafreya receives in return almost cracks her heart in two, but she says nothing of it. She still finds Frisk to be charming in spite of the sadness that seems to hang over their person, and she desperately wants to find a way to ease that burden, if only a little bit.]

... A receding hare-line. [ Ba-dum tsh. ]

[ Her delivery falls flat, but she manages a weak smile. ] Forgive me. I am not as practiced at humor as Noctis is... But I can only hope your friend will be appreciative. I know that they must be to see you go to such great lengths on their behalf, at the very least.

... I am sure that they counted themselves lucky to have a friend like you.

[Flat- but it's still perfect. They jot down the answer whilst quietly whispering it back to themself, and they can practically hear Sans' muffled snort at just how terrible it is. Death isn't permanent here, they don't think. Maybe they can get Luna to tell him again later.

But they still have to shake their head at her words, not even trying to meet her eyes.]

We weren't really friends.

[ Frisk's denial of their friendship with the person their post is about leaves Lunafreya crestfallen, but she figures the fact that her lame joke is good enough to write down is a small victory. Still, what good is a victory if Frisk still looks so down? ]

Ah. I apologize for assuming.

[ A semi-awkward pause. Lunafreya looks saddened. ]

I do not know you very well, Frisk, but I consider you to be a friend. I can continue to offer jokes if you wish, but I beg you-- please do not hesitate to tell me if there's more that i can do for you. I do not enjoy seeing you in such low spirits.

[Her declaration is enough to surprise them into stillness, eyes opening the slightest as they look at her with a true air of- well. Surprise.

It's unexpected. And there are more important things to focus on, like telling her that it's okay, they don't mind if she makes a mistake. Instead, all that comes out is a quiet:]

We're friends?

[ Frisk's surprise leaves Luna mildly bewildered, though she manages a soft, mildly confused smile. ]

Yes. If you will have me, I would very much like to be.

[ Her expression is gentle. Open. ]

We needn't talk if you don't wish to. But know that I am here for whatever you might want or need. You only need to say the word.

[That's

Nice. It's nice. She really is a good person, they think; the kind who doesn't judge. Even if she doesn't know what happened, she's not pushing, and they're still friends, even if they don't tell her. They don't really want to.

The best thing they can do, as her friend...is be there when she needs them. The opposite never seems to work out.]

...Thanks.

Um. I'm here too. If you need a hot dog.

[ Lunafreya feels she's in no position to judge anyone, ever. She can tell Frisk doesn't want to talk, and she understands and respects that.

It's because of this that she laughs at their words, gentle and good-natured. ]

The last time I accepted a hot dog from you, it saved my life. I know not who your vendor is, but I am grateful to them nonetheless.

[Who their vendor-

Haha. They don't lose their smile, but it changes. Things do that, with time. They change.]

Don't tell Sans when he comes back, okay?

I was supposed to keep it for me.

[ Indeed, they do. Luna notes the change, but she doesn't comment on it. She's just happy to have made them smile in the first place, for however briefly. ]

You have my word. But... [ Her expression turns mildly concerned. ] If the hot dog had been meant for you, why did you give it to me? Had I known that its healing purposes had been intended for you, then I would not have taken it for myself.

...Because I didn't need it.

[Which is true. It seems silly, to keep something for yourself when someone needs it right now. Whether or not it could've helped them today isn't important.]

And it helped you get better, right? I knew it would.

[Rey is looking rather worse for wear herself. It's not why her face isn't visible, as this routine is just habit -- but she doesn't sound particularly well, either. She sounds like she's had too many cigarettes over the last few years, speaking with a hoarse and weary voice:]

Know some jokes, but not sure if you'd get many of them. [Military humor and all.]

Can remember a few amusing stories, if you don't mind hearing one.

[She does sound...really weary. Frisk doesn't have to imagine that something happened to her too; something's happened to everyone. There's no point to asking if she's okay; she's called back. That's about the only indication they're going to get.]

Maybe not, but...Sans might.

[And really, that's the point.]

A story is good too, but it might take me a while to write it down.

No worries. It's a short one.

So an infantryman, a soldier, and a scout were hunting in a forest when they stumbled across a set of tracks.

The infantryman says, "Those are deer tracks."

The soldier snorts and says, "Shit no, these are elk tracks."

"You're both wrong," says the scout. "These are moose tracks."

The three continue arguing until the train comes and hits them.

[Wow, Rey. You must be fantastic at parties. That uh.

That sure is a joke. Probably not the most appropriate to put down on pages being used in a funeral, but Frisk makes a mental note to tell it to Chara, sometime. It was the type of humor they'd enjoy.]

So...they all died?

[Probably the reason why she doesn't get invited to parties.]

Well, it's likely.

...

Yes they all died.

[It was more for Frisk than for Sans, anyway. But that is... definitely a terrible joke for a kid, isn't it? Not like Rey thinks about those things.]

[Definitely the reason she didn't get invited to parties.]

Oh.

Um. I don't think I can write that one. Sans didn't like it when people died.

Well, it wasn't necessarily for Sans.

Then who was it for?

[Give them a second.]

...Oh. Um.

Thank you?

Ah. You're... welcome.

[Hurk.]

...

So, unless you want to hear more stupid jokes-- [or Rey's attempt at jokes, that is] --will just. Go.

[Yes.]

[Amazing, that that awkward tumble of a sentence gains a much more genuine huff of laughter than the actual joke.

You're kind of awkward sometimes, Rey.]

I don't mind if you want to tell more- but you don't have to.

[Fates... He sure did love jokes, didn't he? Warrick eyes up the kid, sighs, and flicks on his own video the respond. They didn't have many kids in Oz, given the way people aged as they will while Ozma's blessing was in effect. Seeing one so sad and beat up almost makes him grateful that was the case. It's not something he wants to see.]

Do you want a brief explanation of an acorn?

[Hello, person they don't know. Frisk imagines that he must be...one of Sans' friends. Sans really did have a habit of making them.]

An acorn?

[Maybe it's going to be a joke? Pen and paper resting in their lap, their head tilts just the slightest, a good indication of curiosity.]

Okay.

In a nutshell, it's an oak tree.

[Well, it's...a joke of some kind, anyway.]

My grandfather was a woodsman. Didn't branch out a lot from the tree humor even when we told him to leaf it alone.

[These puns were entirely unexpected. For someone who's never dealt with children, he does gain something out of them; a huff of amusement, something of a grin as they pick up their paper, and start writing things down.]

It's okay. Humor like that is pretty over-elm-ing.

Yeah. Still pretty poplar, though. There's a lot, I could probably go on for a while...but you might just get sycamore puns.

[The smile he offers is pretty weak, and he's quick to look away.]

He was a woodsman, but... I'm a mender, you know. I have healing magic.

[If you want to, uh, take care of that problem you've got there.]

You could always branch out a little. But then I'd pine fir more.

[It's okay; he's trying. And trying is good- trying is great, when they have a whole page to fill up with jokes, and not a lot of inspiration to fill it.]

That's cool; I think healing magic is more useful than wood, anyway.

[At least in Hadriel. The...uh, the subtle hint isn't quite picked up on.]

Sometimes it is, yeah.

[...ack. Maybe this was a kid thing. It would make sense they didn't pick up on it right away.]

If you need it at all, the magic works a lot faster than ointments and things, even though I'm still in training. Your or any of your friends, I mean.

Oh. [That's an offer. And for a moment, they seem to get it, straightening up, mouth set into a determined line as they ask-]

My friend got hurt; could you help them?

[Both the appearance of the kid and the mention of the gross skeleton that had shown up in her house the other day are intriguing. Guess they had some trouble taking someone's eye out after all. Should have let her come along, clearly.]

Looks like another one bit the dust. [Har har?]

So I guess he found you after all. Or did you find him first? [She wants the deets.]

What? [Looks like another bit the dust. Har har. They're clearly uncomfortable with the adage, and the look they give her isn't one of familiarity- not even remotely.

Then their lips purse.]

Wasn't looking for him. [Unless...they had been? It's discomfiting to think that she'd met Frisk- but not them. What had they told her..?]

I was looking for me.

[Still with the cryptic one-liners, but something's off about them, the look they give her and their concern for Sans' memory. Her brow creases in a slight frown.]

You were looking for-- your copy? [Things are starting to make a little more sense, now. If the population has doubled, you couldn't be sure who you're talking to at all. Sheds an interesting light on their insights into their target, too. She's a bit more serious when she asks,] Who won?

[She seems pretty invested in having a 'winner', here. Their frown deepens.]

No one. Everyone lost. [Sans died, Chara hurt themself, and Frisk caused the whole mess in the first place. There's no such thing as a winner- it's not a game.

Even if the darker points of their mind say it's supposed to be.]

[Ah, one of those. Their copy must have been pretty successful. She nods curtly in understanding.] You can be the last one standing and still lose everything. [Your family, your combat unit, your species.]

I'm surprised human children learn that so early. Not to mention the knife wielding. [There were definitely no knives at Coal Hill School, more's the pity.]

Yeah. [Last one standing, but

Why would you even want to be? At least she gets that. It's nice that she does.]

Um. I don't think most human children are supposed to. [They squint at the video for a moment, taking her in. She looks human in their eyes.] You're not?

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