[ What a day, huh. All things considered the collective group did quite decently, but that was an interesting stunt towards the end. Frontal isn't mad (to say he has no anger inside would be a bold-faced lie, but it's directed to more important matters), but he is curious.
So he's just going to knock at this capsule door with a friendly enough smile on his face. ]
[ Crawling inside such a small capsule when there is already somebody else in it is uncomfortable, but not undoable. It's a good thing that Kris is small to begin with - though Frontal also tries to put himself into a position of sitting on his legs to not take up too much space. His shoes are being mercifully left outside. ]
So. That was an interesting experiment... if it was that.
[ No judgement, he sounds as conversational as always. ]
There's two ways I can spin it in my head. Either we were selected for some innate quality to us that they want to test and bringing us here with a hassle - in that event, she would not want us all to die too early in.
But on the other hand, it might just be that were were haphazardly collected as random samples from various dimensions because they have that power and can wield it as though is nothing. In that case, we are entirely replaceable.
[ He would hope it is the former, but a lot of impossible things have turned out possible here. ]
I wasn't dead set on letting it get that far. The dagger was for me, though I admittedly hadn't decided. I knew by the time the vote came out that I wasn't going to be selected. Hence why the results are inconclusive. [You were... somewhere between alarmed and amused when your name came up as a safe option.]
I think she's done this before, and can probably do it again, though I doubt we're a random selection either. It would be immensely bad luck for her if that were the case.
You certainly do not value your life the same way many of the other contestants do.
I have no particular inclination to try and talk you out of that, don't worry. Life doesn't change. Fundamentally it's this, over and over, and most of the human mind seems to be dedicated to trying to deny as much.
You mentioned that you were created as a vessel, right?
[They point to their torso, where their heart should be, where their soul is supposed to be.]
I was... similarly created in a sense. I was a vessel for a stolen soul split between two different dead children from a dead world. A world they destroyed. Or, I guess I destroyed.
[Not even... going to try to explain the Doctor, or the whole Angel situation. Because that's a different matter entirely.]
Now, something gets to take direct control over my body and use me as it's silent and lifeless protagonist. Funny how that works.
That is a very specific thing to have in common. Frontal is silent for a long moment. Relating to somebody has never been so concrete and he's not sure how to proceed with it. ]
... there might be a soul inside me. When I was made, there was nothing. By design, I am a vessel for the will of the people living in space; somebody who turns their desires into pragmatic plans to realize. In appearance, I am their former leader - the one they want to see.
But now, this vessel is no longer empty. There is a will, a whisper, and a memory... of the end of all times. Just who has bestowed these onto me, I wonder...?
[It's exceptionally unique for you too. Within both sets of memories there was only one other who understood, and that other was the other dead child. Now we're one, and they're Kris, and you're you. It's extremely rare to encounter one who understands this emptiness.]
I see. I believe I was supposed to be similarly empty. The entity rewrote my name to match their preconception of me, as a vessel to them. I'm the only one who knows that my name is no longer mine. The fact that I had an identity at all was an act of rebellion from... someone. I don't remember who.
[Is it determination that rests inside him? Maybe. Or Patience. Or any number of emotions that have all since been erased along with the majority of the human race.]
I know the identity of the one who revealed all of this to me, and in some ways turned me into what I am. But only vaguely. He didn't exist in the other world. He fell through the cracks of time and space, and lived in the void between worlds. And I believe he made the world I was designed to live in.
[ It's as though he is looking at himself through a twisted mirror. More twisted than looking at any recording of Char Aznable and recognizing the same face. Another one like him... The closest to that so far had been Ple 12, a mass manifactured clone, a tool of war... but she had long rejected that identity and taken on one of her own. Unrelatable to Frontal, far from his view of the world and far from the despair of another man that he carries within.
Kris is... Kris understands being a puppet, a container, a means to an end.
Frontal has never wanted to be understood. But now that he has it, it's difficult not to poke at it as if running one's fingernail over scab on a wound. ]
[It's a similar sentiment on their end. They know that one of the children craved companionship, understanding, someone who would understand them but not love them. And the other wanted to live a loving gentle lie, where they continued to be a child in a world they'd used as a toy.
Kris cares about people, about Susie and Noelle and Toriel and Lancer. But more importantly they have spite and despair that they will spread to those who think they're immune.]
Most children have delusions that they need to get over eventually. [They shrug, bitter.]
But I still have power over them too, more than I think they're ready to handle. [They smile, for just a brief moment.] I can escape them briefly, by ripping my soul from my body.
[ Aaahh... There is something relaxing about it, about being around people who feel the same innate hatred of humanity that runs through the emptiness of his mind like a soft hum. That's why he enjoys having Angelo around, made of nothing but a potent rage that is far from Frontal and yet entirely too understandable.
Kris is... like him and not. That little 'not' is likely for the best. He never asked for kinship. But here, sitting cramped in this mini capsule, in a world where nobody sees him the way he is meant to be seen... he still feels a kind of solidarity that marks Kris closer to his people than maybe anybody else here. ]
I understand.
[ And there is something darker than usual in his smile that suggests he does. ]
Though personally, I simply give them what they made me for. The fact that they made me at all speaks of the very mindset that dooms them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frontality) wrote2022-01-16 12:49 am
Week 1 Saturday Evening
So he's just going to knock at this capsule door with a friendly enough smile on his face. ]
no subject
You'd been meaning to talk to him anyway. You gesture with your head that he can come inside.]
no subject
So. That was an interesting experiment... if it was that.
[ No judgement, he sounds as conversational as always. ]
no subject
More about making a point. But it sort of doubled as an experiment, yeah.
Results inconclusive.
[You drop down on your bed and continue staring at the ceiling.]
no subject
[ It sure did make a point, Frontal cannot deny that simple truth. ]
no subject
A kill everyone option seemed like too much of a landmine to intentionally include for anything other than a bluff.
[You're still not entirely sure. You got zero votes. Your final speech wasn't exactly convincing and you knew it even at the time.]
no subject
There's two ways I can spin it in my head. Either we were selected for some innate quality to us that they want to test and bringing us here with a hassle - in that event, she would not want us all to die too early in.
But on the other hand, it might just be that were were haphazardly collected as random samples from various dimensions because they have that power and can wield it as though is nothing. In that case, we are entirely replaceable.
[ He would hope it is the former, but a lot of impossible things have turned out possible here. ]
cw for discussion of suicide
I think she's done this before, and can probably do it again, though I doubt we're a random selection either. It would be immensely bad luck for her if that were the case.
no subject
I have no particular inclination to try and talk you out of that, don't worry. Life doesn't change. Fundamentally it's this, over and over, and most of the human mind seems to be dedicated to trying to deny as much.
[ So like, good job on the nihilism, kid. ]
no subject
[You sigh. And it's true. This is your golden ticket to living this miserable life.]
We have a bit more in common than you'd think, you know that?
no subject
[ Now that's intriguing. There are not many people who can claim to have something in common with Frontal unless you count 'general misanthropy'. ]
I doubt you were lying about being 'older' than me, so then...?
no subject
[They point to their torso, where their heart should be, where their soul is supposed to be.]
I was... similarly created in a sense. I was a vessel for a stolen soul split between two different dead children from a dead world. A world they destroyed. Or, I guess I destroyed.
[Not even... going to try to explain the Doctor, or the whole Angel situation. Because that's a different matter entirely.]
Now, something gets to take direct control over my body and use me as it's silent and lifeless protagonist. Funny how that works.
no subject
That is a very specific thing to have in common. Frontal is silent for a long moment. Relating to somebody has never been so concrete and he's not sure how to proceed with it. ]
... there might be a soul inside me. When I was made, there was nothing. By design, I am a vessel for the will of the people living in space; somebody who turns their desires into pragmatic plans to realize. In appearance, I am their former leader - the one they want to see.
But now, this vessel is no longer empty. There is a will, a whisper, and a memory... of the end of all times. Just who has bestowed these onto me, I wonder...?
no subject
I see. I believe I was supposed to be similarly empty. The entity rewrote my name to match their preconception of me, as a vessel to them. I'm the only one who knows that my name is no longer mine. The fact that I had an identity at all was an act of rebellion from... someone. I don't remember who.
[Is it determination that rests inside him? Maybe. Or Patience. Or any number of emotions that have all since been erased along with the majority of the human race.]
I know the identity of the one who revealed all of this to me, and in some ways turned me into what I am. But only vaguely. He didn't exist in the other world. He fell through the cracks of time and space, and lived in the void between worlds. And I believe he made the world I was designed to live in.
no subject
Kris is... Kris understands being a puppet, a container, a means to an end.
Frontal has never wanted to be understood. But now that he has it, it's difficult not to poke at it as if running one's fingernail over scab on a wound. ]
Do you miss it; that 'identity' of yours?
1/2
Kris cares about people, about Susie and Noelle and Toriel and Lancer. But more importantly they have spite and despair that they will spread to those who think they're immune.]
Most children have delusions that they need to get over eventually. [They shrug, bitter.]
But I still have power over them too, more than I think they're ready to handle. [They smile, for just a brief moment.] I can escape them briefly, by ripping my soul from my body.
They designed me to play the part of a hero.
2/2
no subject
Kris is... like him and not. That little 'not' is likely for the best. He never asked for kinship. But here, sitting cramped in this mini capsule, in a world where nobody sees him the way he is meant to be seen... he still feels a kind of solidarity that marks Kris closer to his people than maybe anybody else here. ]
I understand.
[ And there is something darker than usual in his smile that suggests he does. ]
Though personally, I simply give them what they made me for. The fact that they made me at all speaks of the very mindset that dooms them.