Chara knows Frisk, of course. They know it wouldn't be satisfying or entertaining in the least to kill someone who chooses not to fight back. That these slaps will bore them long before the stinging in their hand or the look on Frisk's face can pierce through the wall of empty space where a SOUL should have been.
They know Frisk doesn't want to hurt them. They know Frisk just wants to be good.
But Chara. Chara is proving something this way, too. Chara doesn't want to be the cautionary tale. Chara wants to prove that naive sentiment wrong -- even the worst person can be good, if they just try? Chara wants someone to drag down, because they once wanted to be good, and they only ruined everything. They're beyond redemption now. Beyond goodness. They had a second chance to be a good person, and merely poisoned everything they touched.
They want proof that sort of fate can even befall the good human.
They take a good, long look at the knife in Frisk's hand. Red eyes, gleaming with the ghost of a strange, unhealthy sort of excitement, sharply slide up to meet Frisk's.]
Make me.
[And again, they swing. Aim to hurt. Press harder and harder for Frisk to use that knife for its intended purpose. If it's already in Frisk's hand, then it's only one half-step further to use it. Won't that be satisfying, Frisk?
no subject
Chara knows Frisk, of course. They know it wouldn't be satisfying or entertaining in the least to kill someone who chooses not to fight back. That these slaps will bore them long before the stinging in their hand or the look on Frisk's face can pierce through the wall of empty space where a SOUL should have been.
They know Frisk doesn't want to hurt them. They know Frisk just wants to be good.
But Chara. Chara is proving something this way, too. Chara doesn't want to be the cautionary tale. Chara wants to prove that naive sentiment wrong -- even the worst person can be good, if they just try? Chara wants someone to drag down, because they once wanted to be good, and they only ruined everything. They're beyond redemption now. Beyond goodness. They had a second chance to be a good person, and merely poisoned everything they touched.
They want proof that sort of fate can even befall the good human.
They take a good, long look at the knife in Frisk's hand. Red eyes, gleaming with the ghost of a strange, unhealthy sort of excitement, sharply slide up to meet Frisk's.]
Make me.
[And again, they swing. Aim to hurt. Press harder and harder for Frisk to use that knife for its intended purpose. If it's already in Frisk's hand, then it's only one half-step further to use it. Won't that be satisfying, Frisk?
* Won't that just be what Chara deserves?]