A: Memory When the mists give way to this new memory, they reveal a sterile hospital waiting room, filled with soft murmurs, the odor of disinfectant, and a general aura of despair. The doors to the patient wing constantly open and close, but nobody enters or exits, and every person in this twisted dream is faceless save for a massive, grotesque eye... well, perhaps not every person.
The gazes of all the nightmares are focused, unmoving, unblinking, on one child hidden in the corner of the room. No more than twelve years old, their head is hung, shaggy mop of brown hair obscuring their eyes, and their skin is an unnatural shade of bright yellow. Fists clenched, tears roll down Frisk's eyes, dampening their purple and blue striped shirt.
Faint snatches of conversation can be picked out from the general susurrus...
"...what a horrible child..."
"...do such a thing?"
"...will she be able to..."
"...a few months at best..."
"...they deserve to be punished..."
B: Arrival Frisk groans, their eyes fluttering open as the low murmur of conversation reaches their ears. Must've been one wild trial. Is this what being hungover felt like? More importantly, why did they feel hungover? "Ugh, Papyrus, who are you-" Their eyes widen--not that it helps much--and they take in their new surroundings. "Papyrus!"
Getting to their feet and stumbling through the crowd, wearing a pink shirt proudly declaring "COOL DUDE!" they stumble through the crowd, muttering, "Sorry, excuse me, coming through, looking for a skeleton, has anybody seen a skeleton? Where am I anyways? Who are all you- Woah!" Frisk comes to the window and gawks out at space. It was at times like this that they wished that they hadn't been so stubborn about getting glasses. But still... where was Papyrus?
C: Curti Center A soft "woah" escapes Frisk's mouth as they disembark the airship, drinking in the sights and sounds of the Curti Center. Now this was cool. Both literally and metaphorically. They'd had enough of being boiled alive in their own sweat in Hotland, thankyouverymuch. Frisk moves with the crowd, a bit distracted as they head to Cid's speech, but standing in rapt attention as the director lets loose with an obligatory exposition dump. Normally, they'd be a lot more hype about getting dropped into a place as awesome as Vaikuntha, but... they purse their lips. Frisk had people to save, and on top of that, they didn't even have their save file anymore. That was gonna be a huge problem. They had to get back, before another human fell and ended up with their SOUL harvested. For the sake of everyone.
Despite all of these things and their memory weighing on their mind, Frisk melds into the crush of people easily, mostly content to gawk at things, annoy tour guides, and look for Papyrus in the chaos, but they may occasionally crash--quite literally--into people, and are more than willing to make casual conversation as the tour continues.
D: A Ball of Fluff Named Moogle It was supposed to be an easy job. Get into the cafeteria, grab some food, crack a few jokes, then leave. It was supposed to be an easy job. But then again, life always seemed to bend over backwards to make itself difficult for Frisk, so why would that change now? As Frisk saunters into the cafeteria, the hairs on the back of their neck stand up. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
And, before they can so much as process the dawning horror of a one-eyed blue moogle charging at them screaming "NGAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" at the top of her lungs, Mogdyne is upon them. Limbs locked in sheer, raw terror and a hefty dose of repressed rage, Frisk glares up at the odd moogle that lands on their head, the force almost driving them to their knees. "Hello, punk!" she roars in Frisk's ear. Rather than flinching, they just glare harder.
"So you're the puny wimp that they assigned me to babysit, huh?" Mogdyne sneers, showing off a maw full of filed teeth. "If you're expecting me to hold your hand and tell you that everything is just gonna be just fine, well, have I got news for you!"
Frisk opens their mouth to fire back, before before they can do so, Mogdyne continues. "I'm Mogdyne, and there's NO WAY I'm gonna let you stay such a lame, weak noodle as long as I'm with you! Either you moogle up or you break! Now, go eat some meat, punk!"
Looking down at the floor, Frisk mumbles, "This is hell. I died for real and I'm in hell now. I'm in hell."
E: Housing (Closed to B-11) For a few moments, all is silent in the disaster house. Then, that golden calm is completely shattered when a small, sassy child throws open the door, grinning wildly. "Honey, I'm HOME!" they yell. This is surely an omen of annoying, wacky, flirty antics.
Frisk (Inverted Fate) | OTA
When the mists give way to this new memory, they reveal a sterile hospital waiting room, filled with soft murmurs, the odor of disinfectant, and a general aura of despair. The doors to the patient wing constantly open and close, but nobody enters or exits, and every person in this twisted dream is faceless save for a massive, grotesque eye... well, perhaps not every person.
The gazes of all the nightmares are focused, unmoving, unblinking, on one child hidden in the corner of the room. No more than twelve years old, their head is hung, shaggy mop of brown hair obscuring their eyes, and their skin is an unnatural shade of bright yellow. Fists clenched, tears roll down Frisk's eyes, dampening their purple and blue striped shirt.
Faint snatches of conversation can be picked out from the general susurrus...
"...what a horrible child..."
"...do such a thing?"
"...will she be able to..."
"...a few months at best..."
"...they deserve to be punished..."
B: Arrival
Frisk groans, their eyes fluttering open as the low murmur of conversation reaches their ears. Must've been one wild trial. Is this what being hungover felt like? More importantly, why did they feel hungover? "Ugh, Papyrus, who are you-" Their eyes widen--not that it helps much--and they take in their new surroundings. "Papyrus!"
Getting to their feet and stumbling through the crowd, wearing a pink shirt proudly declaring "COOL DUDE!" they stumble through the crowd, muttering, "Sorry, excuse me, coming through, looking for a skeleton, has anybody seen a skeleton? Where am I anyways? Who are all you- Woah!" Frisk comes to the window and gawks out at space. It was at times like this that they wished that they hadn't been so stubborn about getting glasses. But still... where was Papyrus?
C: Curti Center
A soft "woah" escapes Frisk's mouth as they disembark the airship, drinking in the sights and sounds of the Curti Center. Now this was cool. Both literally and metaphorically. They'd had enough of being boiled alive in their own sweat in Hotland, thankyouverymuch. Frisk moves with the crowd, a bit distracted as they head to Cid's speech, but standing in rapt attention as the director lets loose with an obligatory exposition dump. Normally, they'd be a lot more hype about getting dropped into a place as awesome as Vaikuntha, but... they purse their lips. Frisk had people to save, and on top of that, they didn't even have their save file anymore. That was gonna be a huge problem. They had to get back, before another human fell and ended up with their SOUL harvested. For the sake of everyone.
Despite all of these things and their memory weighing on their mind, Frisk melds into the crush of people easily, mostly content to gawk at things, annoy tour guides, and look for Papyrus in the chaos, but they may occasionally crash--quite literally--into people, and are more than willing to make casual conversation as the tour continues.
D: A Ball of Fluff Named Moogle
It was supposed to be an easy job. Get into the cafeteria, grab some food, crack a few jokes, then leave. It was supposed to be an easy job. But then again, life always seemed to bend over backwards to make itself difficult for Frisk, so why would that change now? As Frisk saunters into the cafeteria, the hairs on the back of their neck stand up. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
And, before they can so much as process the dawning horror of a one-eyed blue moogle charging at them screaming "NGAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" at the top of her lungs, Mogdyne is upon them. Limbs locked in sheer, raw terror and a hefty dose of repressed rage, Frisk glares up at the odd moogle that lands on their head, the force almost driving them to their knees. "Hello, punk!" she roars in Frisk's ear. Rather than flinching, they just glare harder.
"So you're the puny wimp that they assigned me to babysit, huh?" Mogdyne sneers, showing off a maw full of filed teeth. "If you're expecting me to hold your hand and tell you that everything is just gonna be just fine, well, have I got news for you!"
Frisk opens their mouth to fire back, before before they can do so, Mogdyne continues. "I'm Mogdyne, and there's NO WAY I'm gonna let you stay such a lame, weak noodle as long as I'm with you! Either you moogle up or you break! Now, go eat some meat, punk!"
Looking down at the floor, Frisk mumbles, "This is hell. I died for real and I'm in hell now. I'm in hell."
E: Housing (Closed to B-11)
For a few moments, all is silent in the disaster house. Then, that golden calm is completely shattered when a small, sassy child throws open the door, grinning wildly. "Honey, I'm HOME!" they yell. This is surely an omen of annoying, wacky, flirty antics.