A/N: My first written foray into the fandom. I've a half dozen other things floating on my laptop, but this one felt like the right one to start with. This fic is post 'pacifist' neutral route and assumes it as canon. Ie: Frisk never reset to try again, or reloaded to an old save point. Now, onwards to this weird conglomerate of ideas that may have a few hints and flavors of a certain 80's cult classic mixed in. Care to guess which?
Looking for a beta, as always~
Changeling
By Catsitta
1. [CONTINUE?]
Much about Ebott City changed in the past decade. The park off Main finally replaced the dying bulb in its lone street lamp so it would stop flickering like scene out of a cheap horror movie, and some big name company bought out the little ice cream parlor down the road from where she used to live. On the whole it looked the same, childhood memories casting vague familiarity on nondescript stretches of shopping centers and office buildings. But in the little things, the kind of things that encompassed the small world of a kid, founded on routine, Frisk saw differences. Discrepancies. A neighborhood house renowned for its terrible green facade was painted white, with an equally plain picket fence. The sign outside the elementary school was digital now—apparently they started classes up already.
Sitting at wobbly steel cafe table, Frisk watched two pigeons fight over a french fry. Now that was a sight she remembered. Rickey's Bar and Grill was ever so popular with the birds, much to the owner's dismay, if the way he chased after them with brooms was any indication. It was lunch time. She could hear said restaurant next door abuzz with activity. She sipped her lemonade, a half-eaten muffin perched on a plate, waiting to be finished. Frisk recalled begging her mom repeatedly to come to this coffee shop for its sweets as a kid. The pastry was good but...something was missing. She couldn't quite place it. She decided to blame it on nostalgia.
Frisk rattled the cup. Just ice.
"Whelp, guess that's my sign that break time is over."
Tucking away the muffin into her purse (wrapped in a napkin of course, but the inevitable crumbs that would litter the inside would have given her grandmother a fit), Frisk returned to her exploration. She'd spent the morning in the suburbs, checking out her old neighborhood, before driving downtown to scope out the area where she'd likely live for the next four years. That good ol' college commitment. Classes at North Ebbot University started in a couple days come Monday, and she was all moved into her dorm as of yesterday. Her roommate was some girl she didn't know but didn't seem the type to vandalize stuff, so Frisk headed out in her dad's old Ford truck, air conditioning on blast.
She slipped into the driver's seat of the dented blue hunk of metal parked at the meter that she called hers now. A gift when her family learned she was heading out of state for a degree. Frisk rattled the container of lemonade flavored ice cubes before popping it into the cup holder. It'd melt. As she started up the engine, she tried not to think about the strange looks on her parents' faces when she mentioned where she was applying for college. Ebott held bad memories for them, not Frisk. If anything, the glaring void of white noise and unanswered questions was a temptation. She wanted to know. Felt that she needed to know.
Eight year old Frisk climbed a mountain. Authorities found the missing child alive but unconscious, clinging to a golden locket she didn't own, odd dust sticking to her sleeves, with a knife curled in one fist. Aside from a number of superficial cuts and bruises, the child was fine. Not even dehydrated despite her three day disappearance. Doctors had no answer why Frisk stayed catatonic for a week aside from trauma-something seen or experienced and the brain couldn't cope. When she stirred awake, there were questions...so many questions. For which she had no reply. Frisk couldn't recall climbing the mountain much less how or why. But after the event, she had a profound new fear of the dark and both yellow flowers as well as dusty places made her inexplicably sad. As for the locket they found on her that day...she wasn't sure if she was supposed to have it or not, but Frisk wore it always, tucked out of sight, resting against skin.
They moved states before she turned nine. Escaping the memories. The stares. The stigma that was the child who vanished from bed while the house was asleep and was found on the side of a mountain. No foul play was determined, but people talked. Lucky them that moving away from Ebott City returned their quiet, unremarkable life. Frisk, even without being known as the kid who climbed a mountain, couldn't escape. She was forever the odd one out, the weirdo, the child that made even adults a little uneasy. No one able to quite verbalize why being in the same room as Frisk felt wrong. She was just a kid, polite and soft spoken.
Life after Ebott was lived in a daydream. Nose buried in books because friends rarely lasted, and bullies kept their distance, preferring to spread nasty rumors instead of actually confronting Frisk. It was lonely. She wasn't the quiet one until that fateful day. Family recounted with mixed humor how rambunctious and flirty Frisk was when she was little, always getting into mischief and introducing a different boyfriend or girlfriend every week. Funny to think about now considering her current lack of interest in dating.
The rumble of the truck's engine aggravated the building ache between her brows. Maybe it was time to call it a day before she worked herself into a migraine. Thinking too much on that gap in her memory never went well. Like her brain had set up an electric fence to keep Frisk out and was willing to leave the young woman curled up in a dark room to suffer just to keep it hidden. Still...coming to here felt right. Like maybe, even if she never found answers, she could find some peace.
Frisk pulled on a pair of sunglasses and glanced up towards Mt. Ebott.
It rose tall on the horizon, dwarfing the city like a sleeping sentinel of legends, ready to wake come the End of Days.
.x.
"How are you settling in? Is your roommate nice, what's she majoring in? What about the truck? I told your father to get a new battery in that rust bucket before you left, can't remember the last time he had it replaced." Frisk smiled at her mom's worried chatter, rolling brown eyes, comforted by the familiarity. Some things never change. Even when you grow up and move away, mothers still see you as their baby. Her smile dipped as she curled up a little smaller on her dorm bed, the lights off, the afternoon dripping into evening. "Sweetie?"
"I'm here, mom. Everything's fine. Truck is chugging along and I've barely seen my roomie. She's been out all day," Frisk replied, leaning against a pillow. The bed was bedecked with blue, striped sheets-the kind stocked every year during those back-to-school sales, since regular bedding didn't fit. Absently, she toyed with the foot of a worn goat plushie she won at a fair when she was ten. Azzie rode in the passenger seat the whole drive to the campus. So of course he got prime real estate on her bed when she wasn't sleeping in it. "Miss you guys already."
"You're coming home during the winter break?"
"Duh. They kick us out for the holiday unless you have one of those special permission forms anyway, so you'll be stuck with me a whole month." Frisk pulled Azzy onto her lap, before twisting one of her own short, chestnut locks around a finger. She puffed, trying to blow slightly overgrown bangs to the side. "By the time I visit, you'll be trying to figure out how to get me to leave again. Finally getting the house all to yourselves."
Her mother laughed, "Right, right. Time to convert your bedroom into a gym. Sure your father could find a treadmill somewhere." The image of her stocky, bespectacled dad being in the same general vicinity as a treadmill was pure entertainment. Klutzy man shouldn't be trusted to walk down stairs much less use gym equipment unsupervised. He'd fall and break his nose within a week! Of course that'd give her mom someone else to hover over. Tiny she may be, but her wrath is mighty. One disappointed stare and you felt as if you were caught kicking puppies for sport.
The conversation fell easily between them. Teasing but insubstantial. Never broaching the underlying fear coloring each query. As well as they got along most days, Frisk and her mother had their fights. No bickering or screaming, nor any cruel words, but both knew when they were at odds with the other. Such as when her mom repeatedly asked why she would go back to Ebott, tried to sway her towards a different college with the other acceptance letters...and Frisk stubbornly held her ground, arguing that this was her choice to make. Maybe it was when Frisk raised her voice or the expression on her face, but in the end, her mother buckled, dropping the subject with slumped shoulders. She'd never seen the woman look so small. Frisk stood hardly an inch above her in height, but in that moment, it may as well have been three feet.
"Hey, I'd love to keep talking to you, but I've one of those mandatory meetings in five minutes. I should probably show or else I'll have a RA breathing down my neck."
"Alright sweetie, take care. Love you."
"Love you too," Frisk said, ending the call. For a moment, she stared at the smartphone's blank surface before tucking the device into her pocket.
That night, once meetings and dinner were done, she returned to the sanctuary of her bed and opened up a book. Like Azzy, the book was a token from childhood that she couldn't quite leave behind. It was a tattered little hardback with a greenish-grey cover, the title embossed on the front. Changeling, it read. Frisk knew it to be an sad little adventure about a girl who was switched at birth with a faerie, and set out one day to find her human family, only to discover that they had long since passed on, and the fae left in her cradle had died in infancy. Its parents switched them in wanting a healthy child, even if it would be a changeling, because after centuries of trying to conceive, theirs was doomed upon its first breath. Not exactly a happy tale. Even the ending was bittersweet. With the heroine caught between the choice to stay in the human world or return to hidden one she knew.
More than once she read the book late into the night, flashlight in hand, buried under the blankets, yearning for an adventure. Even after the 'incident'. Frisk snuggled with Azzy, book propped up between them. Her roomie had headphones on and was watching a movie on a laptop at her desk, back turned. She smoothed a hand over yellowed pages and began to read aloud, her voice little more than a whisper, "The sky was dark and cloudless, a full moon hanging high…"
That night Frisk dreamt of an urgent voice but understood nothing it said, and woke to the fleeting scent of buttercups.
.x.
"Field trip?"
Frisk held the paper slip in one hand, crisp and waiting for a signature. Classes were in session barely a week and already they were going on trip. At least they weren't going far. The US History professor always took his intro classes to Mt. Ebott at the start of the year, because being in the place where history happened was crucial to understanding it. Apparently. At least he was enthusiastic? She couldn't imagine wanting to drag thirty odd students around in a state park for a Saturday morning.
Like nearly every freshman, her first semester was packed full of core classes that were mostly irrelevant to her major. Not that said major was set in stone. When writing applications she put Political Science-it seemed properly practical and would set her up to further her education in law. Maybe she would become some sort of ambassador or political representative. She could see eight year old Frisk now, traipsing through the living room with stuffed animals in tow, and announcing to her family how she was going to free their friends from the foul clutches of the hall closet. Negotiations involved cookies. The shadows between the coats liked chocolate chip best.
Shrugging away the itch between her shoulders, Frisk signed the slip.
She was planning a trip there anyway. This would mean that she didn't have to go alone.
Leaning back in seat, she glanced around the room. There were more desks than needed, which was emphasized by no one sitting within two seats of her. Frisk was used to it, though it seemed like her classmates had yet to pin her as the weirdness yet. Eyes would slide over her and they would rub their arms, like a chill settled beneath their skin, as if their instincts were sensing an inexplicable threat. When they had to sit next to her, students that were normally the picture of composed started fidgeting in their seats, searching the room restlessly, notes left abandoned in favor of staring at the clock. Her roommate was doing better than most-though her frequent absence from their shared space and constant use of headphones might be the girl's way of coping with being around someone so 'creepy'.
In short, people weren't cozying up to her, but no one was being outright cruel.
"Has anyone been to Ebott State Park before?" The professor asked. He stood tall and peppy at the front of the room, quite spry for an older gent with white hair, scanning for raised hands. What was his name? Easterly? She idly nicknamed him Prof. Bowtie, since he wore one every day to match his Converses. Strange combination since he was otherwise dressed for business. He made it work.
Frisk lifted a hand, one of five students to do so.
"Ah, good, good, it'll be a nice surprise for most of you," he said, collecting the slips and prattling on about their next assignment. Lively he may be, but if his first week workload was anything to judge by, his was not going to be an easy class. Four-thirty arrived and everyone dispersed. It was Frisk's last class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so she was done for the day. Once she had a better idea on how her schedule and workload was going to dole out, she would look into getting a job. That cafe was searching to hire part-timers…
Humming to herself, Frisk contemplated dinner and the readings she needed to do. No need to procrastinate, especially with newly made plans for Saturday. Lost in thought, she paid no attention to her surroundings until said surroundings collided with her. The poor person squeaked in surprise and their bag hit the floor, scattering loose leaf paper and pens all over the hallway floor.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention, here, lemme help," Frisk kelt, picking up scattered materials before the other person could edge a word in otherwise. A hand caught her wrist, making Frisk pause and look up. She was met with startling red eyes. "Woah. Uh. Cool contacts. They perscription or…?" A laugh. They winked and nudged Frisk's hand away from their stuff.
"Nah, but the color is awesome, right? Looks normal from a distance, get real close to somebody and people freak. Surprised how chill you are about them." A grin split their face, neither their appearance nor their voice gave any strong tells towards gender. They wore knee-length beige shorts and a green sweatshirt, and their messy brown hair was cut even shorter than Frisk's. "You don't gotta help me. I'm as much at fault as you. Pre Cal decided to scramble my brain and I was sorta walking in a straight line without looking."
"It's fine. I mean, two people are faster than one," Frisk replied.
That earned an amused snort all too quickly the pens and papers were packed away properly. Straightening up, they adjusted their leather messenger bag over their shoulder and clapped Frisk on the shoulder. "So what's your name? Don't think I've seen your face around before."
"It's Frisk. I'm a freshman. Majoring in political science."
"Ooooh, sounds boring," they said, running a hand through their hair. No wonder it was so disheveled. "Whelp, nice to meet you Frisky. Name's Chara. I'mma junior. As for major, eh, it changes." They made a careless gesture. "I'll pick one before my advisor has a stroke. Probably. She kinda looks ready to kick the bucket...though that may just be when she has to deal with my schedule."
"Troublemaker," Frisk teased.
Chara propped a hand on their hip, "You know it." After a moment, they pulled out a flip phone. Huh, maybe they had one of those gas station prepaid plans. "Here, lemme give you my number. Maybe we can hang out sometime or study or whatever."
"Oh. Oh!" Frisk fumbled for her phone. For the first time in years, somebody other than family wasn't bothered by her. Didn't shy away like she was a rabid dog ready to eat their face and small children. Sure, the nickname was unexpected, but Chara was proving shamelessly straightforward. They said what they wanted, when they wanted. No hint of uncertainty. "Yeah, of course. I'd love to."
They traded numbers.
"You busy?"
"No. My classes are done for the day."
"I don't feel like going to Economics today," Chara said. "How do you feel about grabbing a bite at the student center? Then I can kick your butt at ping pong."
Frisk paused for a moment, but nodded.
[*making a new friend fills you with DETERMINATION]
.tbc.
A/N: [Reviews are adored~ Love it, hate it, got a crazy theory? Feel free to share! Currently trying to sort out getting an Ao3 account if that's more your jam. Also now have a tumblr under this same username. Because that's a thing.]