Cycle
Summary: Everyone survived, everyone got out, everyone was free. Frisk was living the perfect life she had always wanted. Things could be perfect for only so long. True Pacifist/Genocide routes spoilers. Rated T for language, blood and violence.
White. Everything was white. Or black. Were those colors?
It felt like falling. It felt warm. What was 'it'? Her. Her?
Were her eyes closed? No. She couldn't see. Where was she? How long had she been there? What had she being doing before?
Before when?
Now. Now? No. Not yet. Later? Maybe? Then, when. 'When' was 'now'? What was 'when'? What did all those words mean? Had she ever heard them before?
Heard. Sound. Noises. She could hear them. Soil. 'It' was still warm. A voice. A 'voice'? Was a 'voice' a noise? More words. She could hear them but she couldn't understand.
"What are we doing here?"
Who was that? What were they saying? What was 'here'? Here. Now. Now? Who was that?
"I said, why are we here?"
Who was that? The voice was familiar. Who was talking? 'Talking'? What was that word?
Air. It felt like falling. Air was in her throat. She had her mouth closed. It was still warm. A voice. Her. Her? Was a voice a noise?
"What..?"
She knew that word. She? She, not her. Her? Who was her?
"…What did you do?!"
It was warm.
"What did you do to Frisk?!"
She was falling. There was air in her lungs.
"Don't worry about her. She's very safe."
It was her. Who was her? Her was not she. Who was she?
It was warm.
Who was she?
She was freezing.
It was a perfectly sunny day. The sun was shining brightly, a welcome change for everyone who had to venture outside in the winter cold. There was a warm yet comfortable breeze all around. Everyone was in a cheery mood, getting caught up in the Christmas spirit although the holiday was still quite a few days away. All in all, it was the perfect day.
Frisk felt like shit.
Honestly, the birds were singing, the snow had been shoveled out of Toriel's driveway, she was finally on winter vacation, and she had the whole day free to do whatever she wanted. Why did she feel like crawling back to her room and dying on top of the carpet? Specifically the carpet, too. She didn't even want to reach the bed.
She sighed for what felt the fourth time that day. Her mood felt as dead as a…as a… Oh great, she couldn't even come up with an adequate comparison.
"For the love of— Stop sighing like that! You're sucking the life out of me, too!"
"S-Sorry…" Frisk apologized meekly. She forgot Flowey could hear her from his pot on the kitchen windowsill. He hated that pot with a passion but with everywhere covered in snow, there was little else he could do. The cold both inside and outside grated on his nerves and he always got ever-so-slightly more insufferable in the snow-filled months he couldn't go wherever he wanted.
Three years and he still couldn't get used to winter on the surface. The pitying gazes everyone gave him didn't help improve his mood, either. Ever since he, or rather Asriel, had made everyone forget Flowey in that huge battle six years ago and ever since Frisk finally convinced him to move into her house, everyone had gotten the 'quote' wrong impression about him 'end quote' thanks to Frisk. Flowey had been less than ecstatic about finally giving in to Frisk's demands, and when she introduced him to everyone, they had been slightly put off by his incredibly negative attitude. That is, until Frisk opened her big mouth and told everyone that he was a tsundere. His complete and utter denial of her words only seemed to make everyone nod their heads in comprehension. Ever since then, people would simply smile at him and say "It's okay. We understand." They did not understand at all. Now whenever wintertime came and he couldn't sprout up from under the frozen ground whenever he wanted, he'd be literally grounded to his pink pot with the stupid red hearts and idiotic white polka-dot designs Frisk had made when she was ten. And everyone would look at him as if he were a kid who hadn't received any gifts for his birthday. It irked him to no end.
So yeah, he was salty. And hearing Frisk sigh so loudly was even more annoying to him when he couldn't just escape somewhere else. Fuck snow.
Frisk lifted her head from the table she had aimlessly walked to after waking up. With her chin now pressed to the table's surface, she started dead ahead at the pissed off flower glaring outside at the snow-filled streets. She put her hands inside the pockets of the yellow winter jacket she was wearing. The fireplace had more than enough heat to keep her warm, but her fingertips were trembling and shaking. She hated when they did that.
After spending the next ten or so minutes in complete silence, Frisk pulled herself from the table and walked to a kitchen counter to pull out a bottle of mineral water. She opened it with slight difficulty due to her still shaky fingers and walked back to water Flowey.
He didn't have to look at Frisk to tell her hands were shaking. She had splashed half his stem with all the trembling. "Your hands again?"
Frisk didn't stop staring at the patch of dirt inside the pot, trying and failing to let all the water fall there and not all over the place. "Yeah. Again."
"That's three days in a row now."
"Yeah…"
Now Flowey was the one sighing. "Anything else weird happening lately?"
Frisk stared at the ceiling in thought, trying to close the bottle as she did so. She failed. "Can you call a really strong craving for brand chocolate weird?"
"I thought that was called PMS?"
"Haha. I should just let you dehydrate." Frisk finally focused on the bottle and was able to cap it successfully. She suddenly glanced up to look at Flowey with wide eyes. "Sorry."
At his confused glance, Frisk elaborated. "I-I'm sorry I said that. You know what being dehydrated and withered feels like, so that was really insensitive of me to say…"
Flowey just huffed airily, as if he found Frisk's words ridiculous. "If you're getting all apologetic over stupid stuff like that you'll probably be fine."
"Really?"
Frisk asked hopefully, her eyes basically shining. Seriously, what was with her? It made Flowey sick to his non-existent stomach. If he could've face palmed with his leaves, he would've. "I rest my case."
Suddenly, Frisk didn't feel so bad anymore. Flowey might've been rude, but he had the habit of being brutally honest. Besides, lying just to make her feel better wasn't his style. The teenage human felt a wave of determination wash over her. The day was still long and she could do whatever she liked, so she decided she'd take a walk around town. Almost skipping over to the coatrack next to the door, she put on the white woolen beanie Toriel had given her for Christmas two years ago; she slipped on cream colored gloves and thick brown boots. She finished by wrapping a white scarf around and pulling her long hair out from where the scarf looped around the back of her neck. Before she made to grab the door, she took a step backwards and shot a yell towards the kitchen. "Do you want me to get you anything?"
"Choke on nice cream."
"Love you too!"
She slammed the door closed before Flowey could finish shooting curses at her. Glancing at the sun and feeling the mix of the warm sunlight and chilly air, Frisk took a deep breath and walked towards the park. Maybe she'd find someone there. She gave a wave to Flowey behind the window of the kitchen (she could clearly see how annoyed he was with her) and stuck her hands inside the pockets of her jacket once more.
She convinced herself her hands were shaking due to the cold and nothing more.
Tch. The little pest ducked out of sight. Maybe it was for the best. There wasn't a whole lot she could do with a useless stick. Heh… Even so, he almost managed to get a solid hit in before he saw Toriel and bailed. He was holding back, but what else was new? He was always a wimp when it counted, no matter the timeline.
Now she followed behind Toriel as she activated all of the puzzles for her. That dumb goat-woman really was much too trusting. Whatever. It all worked out in her favor. She was more used to the areas around New Home than the area around Home. Asgore really sucked at naming places. As soon as she was shown the way forward, she could finally do what she really wanted. She had waited so long for this moment, and everything was going according to plan. Well, except the Reset. If Asriel, or rather Flowey (she couldn't help but laugh at the stupid name, but then the name 'Asriel' wasn't too creative either), still remembered things, then her reset hadn't been a pure one. There might've been some snags along the way, but no matter. That'd just make things more interesting, wouldn't it? She couldn't wait to see how much everyone remembered. Regardless, the end result would be the same. She glanced at the phone Toriel had left her, and saw her eyes in the screen's reflection staring back at her. She grinned wider than she had in a long time.
This was going to be so much fun.
A/N: Two Undertale stories at the same time… Yep. Except this one is much shorter and much simpler to write because I'm writing unrestricted of how the game actually plays, as opposed to Revenge. 'Sides, I needed something with a bit of lightheartedness. All the small child angst was killing my writing mood and this motivates me to work on Revenge.
Now if I could stop switching from 3rd person to 2nd person mid-sentence…
Help with the genres for this story, please.
See you soon.
