The action is practically tired reflex by now. MERCY. Spare.
MERCY. Spare.
MERCY. Spare.
Frisk sits there, marinating in their own uncertainty, before they tentatively slip the locket off from around their neck and hold it out.]
I won't give you the knife. [They say it firmly. Of course, seeing as the closets fulfill everyone's desires, there's very little that'll stop Chara from getting one anyway. But maybe it's the symbolism of the thing.] But I think this belongs to you, now.
no subject
The action is practically tired reflex by now. MERCY. Spare.
MERCY. Spare.
MERCY. Spare.
Frisk sits there, marinating in their own uncertainty, before they tentatively slip the locket off from around their neck and hold it out.]
I won't give you the knife. [They say it firmly. Of course, seeing as the closets fulfill everyone's desires, there's very little that'll stop Chara from getting one anyway. But maybe it's the symbolism of the thing.] But I think this belongs to you, now.
[And maybe they need it more than Frisk does.]