* FUTILE / QUIET COURAGE.

umm...kris...? are you feeling alright? normally you're not so...talkative.

[krisage]

anthurium:

        ✱ Kris, you probably shouldn’t eat that. They’re not done yet.

          ---they won’t! honest! they’re just--- taking an admittedly longer than necessary gander, they swear. and yeah, okay, maybe it seems like they’re about to grab one but they aren’t! see, they’ve even secured their hands behind their back! ( can you blame them for being tempted, though? when pastries start smelling and looking that good, it’s hard not to. )

                    * i won’t.                     * really.                     * ...looks nice.                     * how much longer?

[krisage]

( insp. )

kris moss-eater deltarune dreemurr is a dumbass confirmed once again

bonus:

alternatively:

[krisage]

@redeemon smashed that heart.

          there’s an appropriate response to this sort of situation. this, they know. in all the times they’ve seen the exact ( okay, maybe not exact exact, but exact enough! ) same thing play out in horror movies, there’s always a fair amount of screaming. and a fair amount of fleeing. and, well, just a lot of all-around ‘what's going on’, ‘we’re going to die’ panicking.

          and yet --- the only response they can find it in themself to give as the pencil in their grasp is plucked away, the workbook before them is shoved into the underfoot bin, and the stack of papers on their desk is thrown to a nonexistent wind is a quiet, slightly irked click of their tongue.

          they reach down to retrieve their misplaced book. dust it off with practised hands. throw a tired look at the pencil floating at a distance beside their ear. a stray sheet lands upon their head before sliding off to join its brethren scattered on the floor.

                    * not now.                     * i have work.

[krisage]

@sagemurd​ lovingly tapped that heart.

                    * ---why do you keep them around?

          they reach up to cup the flowers with careful hands. the petals are like silken curtains ‘gainst their fingertips: soft, smooth, and wispy to an unbelievable fault. it feels...kind of nice. then, as they continue rubbing their fingers along the waning petals, kind of nauseating. ( as subtly as they can, they remove their hands and wipe them across their sweater. )

          maybe they smell better than they feel? mom and asriel are always raving about how “simply wonderful!” their scent is. slowly, hesitantly, they stoop forward. stick their nose into the bouquet. take a big, deep whiff.

          they can’t smell anything.

          figures.

                    * they--- don’t do anything.                     * they just...sit. and then die.                     * ...useless.                     * why do you keep them around?

[krisage]

tap that heart ( or reply! ) for a hearty* starter!

[krisage]

hi i just read through your about and the meta post on your frisk blog and i just want to say the amount of dedication and analyzing you've done for a, frankly, very mysterious character with super subtle development through the demo is AMAZING and it really shows in your work!! keep up the wonderful work!!

oh gosh, this was an absolutely lovely thing to come back from work to; thank you so much for your kind words!! aaaaa you don’t know how much this means to me — i really love + am invested in kris as a character of their own right, so to see that someone appreciate that makes me! very happy! thank you so much, babe!! ♥

[krisage]

hyacinth.

*( @krisage looks familiar. )

    ✱ … CHARA?

   his head tilts to the right, looking the human up and down. the clothes were the same, the hair just a little scruffier, stance the same slump when they had walked beside him in another life - it had to be them. but those eyes, hidden away only seen in small peeks when their hair is brushed by the wind, was the only thing that made him doubt. the flower couldn’t discern the color, not yet, but absolutely everything else screamed that his best friend had returned.

     ✱ that’s you, right?      ✱ don’t you remember me?

    he wants to laugh. of course they did. of course best friends don’t forget each other.

     ✱ i thought i’d never see you again.

          his mistake ( because that’s what it is— that’s what it has to be— ), they muse, should not be this terrifying. should not make them feel this panicked. but as the weight of expected reciprocation settles ‘pon their shoulders, as the light prickle in their gut morphs into a surging, throbbing ache, as their responding silence stretches on and on and on — they cannot stop the quiver in their breath nor the sharp, fluttering beats of their heart.

                    * …i’m…

          what should they say? what should they do? they’d be lying if they said they knew who chara was. they’d be lying if they said they knew who this talking flower was.

          they’d also be lying if they said they weren’t tempted to respond with yes.

          yes, that’s right. yes, that’s me. yes, i know, i know, me too. for while it might be hard to remember someone you’ve never met before, it’s harder yet to deny someone who so clearly believes otherwise.

          so they don’t.

          ( so they try something else, instead. )

                    * …are you happy?                     * to…see me ‘again’?

[krisage]

Hey are you okay, Kris? Got us kinda worried there buddy.

         it’s amazing how they think they can ask this. it’s amazing how they think it’s okay. like everything they’ve done doesn’t matter. like everything they’ve made happen doesn’t matter. what do they hope will come out of this? relief for their ‘fears’? warmth for their ‘concern’? gratitude for their ‘kindness’?

         because this is the angriest kris has ever felt.

         ( this is the most bitter hatred kris has ever held. )

                   * you— you think you have the right to say that?                    * you think you have the right to be worried?

         the words, vicious as they are, are trawled out quietly. faintly. muffled; as though they don’t want to be heard. as though they don’t want to be answered. and— maybe it’s stupid. maybe it’s stupid to hope that they won’t be answered, that no words will spring to the forefront of their mind, that no thoughts will seat themselves in the back of their head: unbidden and not theirs. yet as kris stands there now, hands trembling against their chest and eyes fixed on the gently pulsing SOUL across the room, they find that that hopeless hope is the only thing keeping them from completely drowning.

                   * you…you ask me if i’m okay.

         a laugh, cold and sharp and grim, rasps along the linings of their throat. the gaping hole in their chest feels just that bit more cavernous.

                   * you’ve been with me for a while, haven’t you?                    * take a wild fucking guess.

[krisage]

on a more lighthearted note, kris can play the piano! “beautifully” too, as acclaimed by the hospital receptionist. there isn’t a piano in their home, which is...odd because if they really do play beautifully then they gotta practice or at least revive their muscle memory from time to time. this implies that they visit the hospital often ( which is also kind of confirmed by the hospital receptionist ), if only so they can play the piano.

the act of making music distracts them from their problems. it allows them to direct any unresolved feelings into something more productive, and i think that’s where the beauty of their playing comes from. not from really amazing skills, but from poignant, soul-stirring emotion. they play with feeling and it really hecking shows.

they aren’t self-taught. when the dreemurrs took them in and they got more comfortable with asking for things, being taught how to play the piano ( a dream sparked from viewing one (1) video of an expert pianist ) was one of their requests and their parents hired a piano teacher for them. they continued learning under their teacher’s tutelage up until their parents split up.

[krisage]

hmhm the only reason why kris follows ralsei from the get-go is because he reminds them very much of their older brother. even before the big reveal, there was just. something in his kindness, his sincerity, and his fixation on morals that felt familiar. comforting. like meeting up with a dear old friend. there’s an inherent sort of trustworthiness that sort of feeling inspires, and ralsei practically exudes it.

but it also felt stifling. overbearing. like no matter how many times they try, they can never get it right. they can never make the perfect decision. kris may have intense faith in ralsei, but they also have such a fear of his judgement that they cannot meaningfully interact with him outside of battling during the beginning of their journey --- many of ralsei’s attempts at friendly talking are rebuffed with unintentional silence and a turned back, and all of his encouragements / praises / compliments are met with a full-body flinch.

essentially, ralsei reminds kris of their brother in all the good and bad ways. he’s every bit as encouraging, and every bit as demoralising. he’s every bit the living embodiment of compassion, and every bit the walking, breathing reminder that they’re not good enough.

if you think kris doesn’t eventually explode from all their bottled-up feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing and “someone like me doesn’t deserve someone like you”, you’re dead wrong pal! they absolutely lash out at ralsei at some point in their adventure. his overwhelming, heartfelt, profound belief in them becomes too much and they just. “shut UP!!”

they don’t...say anything they really regret, but they do say things that they’d rather keep as secrets until the day they die. e.g. “how can you be so sure that i’m a hero”, “do you actually believe that?”, “you say i’m good and you think i am but i’m NOT”, "i’m not good like YOU”, “stop leaving me behind you always always ALWAYS LEAVE ME BEHIND”, etc.

ralsei doesn’t know what the heck they’re talking about for a majority of their breakdown but like....after they tire themself out...the two have a heart-to-heart...SOUL-to-SOUL....jk they quietly hug it out because kris’ trust ain’t that deep just yet. but ralsei would probably keep encouraging them during that hug.....keep listing all their strengths and boons....keep doing all that he can to make them feel better in the only way he knows how to.....and like....he’s laying it on thick but there’s no discounting how much he truly believes in his own words.

so kris allows themself to believe in them too. just a little. enough to make looking at, talking to, and just being near ralsei bearable. even pleasant. their friendship only deepens from then on.

[krisage]

kris is a spontaneous person at heart ( see: licking book pages in the library because who’s never been curious about their taste + eating moss because the moss is “eating” stone and sometimes you just wanna perpetuate a cycle like that ) but they were taught very early on in their life ( before they were taken in by the dreemurrs ) that spontaneity isn’t something to be proud of.

a spontaneous child is a ~difficult~ child and difficult children garner no sympathy or love from anyone. as such, they’ve learnt to suppress that impulsivity and boy howdy do they suppress it well. they never act or speak without contemplating their options first, and even when they finally do do something, they’re almost constantly second-guessing themself. it always comes back to the question ‘have i thought about this action / sentence enough?’ and for kris, the answer is always no. it’s…one of the big reasons why they developed social anxiety.

it’s only when they feel completely safe and secure ( i.e. when they’re alone or in the presence of truly trusted people ) that they indulge in their natural spontaneity.

[krisage]

❛ in this world , it’s kill or be killed . ❜

undertale sentence starters | accepting.

         it probably speaks something of their regard for this stranger when the only reaction they provide outside of an inclined head is a wry quirk of their brow. they’re not quite sure what to make of the remark, but they suppose that’s only because they’re not quite sure what the remark is, either. is it a threat? a warning? a joke? a call for help?

         whatever it is, it’s...actually a bit of a heavy thing to say to a complete stranger, isn’t it? genuine gravitas or no. should...should they be worried? should they be sad? should they be frightened? should they be mad? should there be alarm bells ringing in the back of their head right now? should there be nothing at all in their head right now? should they say something in return? what should they even say? something encouraging? something just as ominous?

                   * uhh---huhm...!

         ( they’re not quite sure. )

         they take a breath before they can spiral any further --- deep and full, just like they were taught to. their hands, tightly clenched into fists at their sides, gradually unwind. a heavy silence rests ‘pon their back as they collect themself: piece by piece, breath by breath, thought by thought, until---

         they lift their head. roll their shoulders back. only marginally, mind you, but the change in posture is still rather striking. steadily, almost purposefully, they meet the stranger’s eyes. only for a second, mind you, but the boldness is still rather empowering.

         ( they don’t know what the right answer is. they don’t know what the right act is. but...perhaps...that’s what makes their act all the less wrong. perhaps that's what makes their act all the more them. )

                   * ---you think so?                    * i know that thought.                    * you say...’in this world’.                    * but i think...you mean ‘in my life’.

         they reach a hand up to rub at their chest.

                   * ...i’m sorry.                    * that it’s--- was like that.                    * it shouldn’t have been...but it was.                    * i’m sorry.

[krisage]

           THERE IS A CANDLE IN YOUR HEART, READY TO BE KINDLED.            THERE IS A VOID IN YOUR SOUL, READY TO BE FILLED.            YOU FEEL IT, DON’T YOU?

                    ( art cred. )

[krisage]

❛ stay determined. ❜

undertale sentence starters | accepting.

         there is no voice --- only stiff, jerky hands, yet kris finds more meaning in those twitching motions than they ever could in uttered words. it’s--- comforting, somehow. to see a language so oft forgotten used again, to have words not oft heard directed at them. perhaps it’s in the way it’s said. gently, softly, in spite of all the trembling: with a firmness that leaves no room for doubt, a belief that leaves no room for hesitation. stay determined, the child signs, but they know there is so much more to it than just that. ( they know there is so much more to this kid than just ‘strangely encouraging’. )

         with deliberately slow, deliberately broadcasted movements, they crouch down ( gods, the kid is tiny --- were they ever this small? )to the younger one’s eye level. place a light hand on a hunched shoulder. offer their smallest, most sincere smile yet.

                   * ...thanks.                    * you’re...nice. cute.                    * you...i believe in you, too.