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HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED TO YOU?!

You are overjoyed at the sound of a new voice, you are drawn into the nostalgic delights of an old favourite, you are captivated with curiosity about a new game, entertained by the eventuality of your participation AND YET--

--there are still some hurdles left to climb. BUT FEAR NOT! Whether to test or to hone, to prepare or refine, whether to socialise or scout, you are now right where you need to be at the

♥ ENTRANCEWAY ♥
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[Mom's here. They'd been so happy to see her, until...until they realized she was from one of the bad times. And while Papyrus has always been eternally forgiving toward both them and Chara, Toriel has been...well, she's a right to be. They killed her. They killed her.

But the smell of her cooking. That achingly familiar scent, of fire magic, of Home, it draws them out of hiding.

They linger in the doorway. They don't want to scare her.]

Do you, um...want some help?

[It's a little hard not to be scared of someone that killed you, no matter how gently they approach. It's not quite as bad as their first meeting, but... she does visibly tense up, her body stiffening. No longer relaxed, as her gaze turns towards the young child at the door. Utterly devoid of the caring and warmth that they might normally see.

Toriel looks through you.]

No. I'm fine.

[Quick and terse. Not showing outright contempt of a child, but. Making her intentions clear. She'd prefer not to deal with them. She'd prefer to keep her distance.]

[* Toriel is acting aloof.

They had braced themselves for it, but it still hits them like a slap. And they look at the ground, away, arms curling around themselves.]

I...I know I can't...make things better. But, um. But I want to try. If I can.

Go make things better, then. Help somebody who needs it. You do not need me to do that.

[She's diverting her attention between her cooking and Frisk. Don't want it to burn, but... don't feel entirely safe turning her back on them. Ready in case the other shoe drops, in case they decide to stop calling her on the phone to call her Mom and flirt, and decide to strike her down in an instant again.]

I can cook on my own just fine.

I don't just mean cooking. I mean, like...like everything. This. All of this?

[They want to rush up to her, hug her, and they want it so hard it hurts.

But they stand their ground. They can't just rush in and do that.]

If there's anything I can...

[Sigh.]

NO, Frisk.

[Not 'my child' anymore. They'd kind of disqualified themselves from being called that.]

[They flinch. It sounds like the same tone she used with Asgore: harsh, and uncompromising.

They don't know what to do. They can't just leave it like this. But they can't...

What could they possibly...?

Frisk shrinks against the doorway and, simply because they don't know what else to do, riding off of an instinct and an old lullaby they sang to the monsters that advanced upon them in the CORE and for Shyren, starts to hum a familiar tune.]

[...Toriel feels as if she's heard that song somewhere. The sound of a musicbox in the distance, mixing with the rain, perhaps. She's not sure.

It has no relevance to her, though. A distant, vague memory. More of a distraction from her work, than anything else.]

Don't you have anything better to be doing?

I...

[What were they hoping to achieve there? What possible end goal could they have gotten through that? They don't know how to patch things together when they've been broken, maybe irreparably. They only know how to make it so they never needed to be fixed in the first place.

So they answer honestly.]

No. Not really. I just...I missed you a lot. While I was here.

...I do not know you. And I have spent no real time away from you even if I did.

[She kind of wishes she had. Her own murderer being one of the very first things she saw on arriving here was... less than pleasant.]

I cannot feel the same way.

You would be better off finding something else to do.

[It seems like talking won't do any good.]

I know. But I...do you believe me when I say that...that in another time, you were - we were friends?

[It seems like such a stretch. To see her looking through them like that, it tears them in two. And they're hardly going to endear her to them by agitating her further, but...

But they just can't leave things as they are. It's one of their flaws.]

This is not that time. However you acted to earn my trust in other worlds, I have not experienced it.

[Of course, it's not that hard for a child to earn Toriel's trust. Just about the only rule is 'Don't kill her in cold blood.']

I know.

[It hurts to swallow. A painful lump in their throat. Heat prickling at their eyes.

No. Don't cry. That's practically their knee-jerk reaction by now, and they need to stop doing that, especially in front of adults. Crying's just a way to get adults to stop and listen, and it's deceptive and stupid and wrong and they need to stop doing it.

So they swallow again, and stop.]

I just - would like to have that again. Someday, if that's...if you can see any kind of, of future with, with me in it.

...We will have to see.

[It's not a yes. She can't possibly give them a 'yes' to something like that. Right now... she still can't shake the feeling that at any moment, they might change again.

That somewhere within them, even if they're acting nice now, is the potential to be like the child they saw- to act utterly heartless, to cut down others, and herself, for no other reason than that they can.

...But it's not a no either. Because they ARE acting so nice. And they are still only a child... She cannot give them such a cruel answer, if it truly means that much to them. Even if she doesn't actually believe it.]

[* Toriel is acting aloof.

It's still better than they could've hoped. Frisk retreats, stepping carefully, quietly back. They're looking at the floor again.]

Thank you. That's...I know I don't deserve another chance. But, um. I'll do what I can t-to...make things...maybe not hurt as much.

Good luck.

[A genuine sentiment, even if she doesn't believe it'll actually happen. It'd be nice, after all. To not have to treat a child like this. To not look at a child and feel... fear.

She still has not relaxed. Not from the moment they stepped by the kitchen. Her body is still tense, ready to respond if they should attempt to rush her. She supposes that coming face to face with your killer tends to do that to you.]

[That's about all they can ask for, isn't it?

They need to get away. This...they don't have any right to make her suffer like this, and at this point it's just putting them both through more pain.

Frisk stumbles back, heel striking the doorframe in their haste before they turn and flee.

* Frisk ran away.]

+ ENTRANCEWAY TEST DRIVE MEME +

1. u think i'd only be happy with one thread with u

Time for more pain for Frisk

gOODY GUMDROPS

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