𝄢...! @shadowguy-friday - Tumblr Blog

This is going to be great! C'mon, Friday, you have to try!

*[A hesitant clarinet trill.]

(Are you sure about this?)

It'll be fun, I promise! We can get to know all sorts of people this way!

*[A swift, descending oboe scale.]

(...that might not be the best idea.)

It can't be that bad, Friday! You worry too much!

*[A drawn out, groaning double bass note, followed by a hesitant piano chord.]

(It really can. They...won't understand me, Chip.)

Oh- well, if they don't, I'll translate for you!

*[...a soft flute arpeggio.]

(...alright. Thank you.)

That's the spirit! The ask box is open for business!

((OOC rules and character info under the cut!))

#intro post #overture #call and response #pianissimo #accelerando

ask-cassiaaddison

*[Friday's awareness pools in the nooks and crannies, collecting like drops of rainwater in dark alleyways, shadowed underpasses, and under yawning stretches of darkness cast by immense skyscrapers.]

*[He'd forgotten just how overwhelming the sounds of the city could be, its neon lights flashing blindingly, the cacophony of car horns blaring around every corner, the constant, barking shouts of addisons insisting on showing off their products to any passerby unlucky enough to cross their path, always pushing, never taking no for an answer-]

*[He resists the urge to withdraw his consciousness from the chaos and curl into shadow. He had to be heard, and that letter had sparked a fragile, hopeful song in his heart. A hope that somebody might be willing, be able to understand.]

*[Focus. Find it.]

*[A sensation, like eyes sliding shut as the sounds of the city fade, warped and distorted as if he'd been plunged underwater. The shouting of sales pitches dissolves, discarded from the composition. Next, the honking, slowly decrescendoing until it becomes a faint whisper undertneath the thrum of the city.]

*[Listen. Where is it?]

*[The sounds swirl around him, pushing against the edge of his mind, an insistent push, a demand for attention.]

*[It was too much. He couldn't sort through the noise, couldn't surface under the crashing waves of sound.]

(Hmm, hmm, hmm...)

(...!)

*[There. Drawing him along like a gentle current, a guiding light in the storm of sound, the gentle, cascading scales of a viola echo in the darkness.]

(Hell- Hello... Hello, how... are you?)

*[He draws closer, slipping from shadow to shadow, trying to focus on the sound as it stops and starts, making minor adjustments, adjusting its tone and pitch.]

*[This had to be it. As his focus narrows in on the musical phrases, he finds himself wondering once again...]

*[Will they understand?]

(We-lcome. Welcome.)

*[He was close now; he could almost feel the vibrations of the strings rippling through his shadows. He takes a breath.]

*[Inhale. Exhale.]

*[The music stirs in his chest as he materializes outside the building.]

[Friday is now outside a massive apartment building. That's... odd? He was probably expecting an office building, but upon looking in through the windows, sure enough, the signage states that this is definitely just housing. It's far too bright inside to travel by shadows.]

[As Friday walks inside, he is immediately hit with blinding LED lights. The lobby is full of random plants, benches much too small to be comfortable, and other decorations.]

[An Addison greets him with what feels like an overly-cheery, rehearsed greeting. It's almost irritating. The way they hold themself almost feels like they're doing it all automatically like some sort of animatronic, like they don't see Friday as more than a spur of movement in front of them. They don't make any effort to stop him as he walks by.]

[The elevator is... also intimidating. Again, bright and uninviting. Off-puttingly clean. The walls are reflective... Friday makes his way to the stairs. Luckily, he only needs to get to the second floor.]

[The hallway isn't nearly as bright as the rest of the building. Let's see here... 210... 211... 213... ah. 219. The sounds of someone practicing their viola are quite clear now. It's not the greatest he's ever heard, but it's definitely not the sound of a beginner. The words have faded a bit, it sounds more like an actual piece now.]

[Knock on the door?]

shadowguy-friday

((This post is a continuation from the previous reblog chain.))

[*Friday's hands thump weakly against Button's chest in protest until it pulls him closer, forcing him to stop. Cassia's face comes into focus as she leans into his field of view, obsucring his view of Vestal. Concern is etched on her features, alongside a current of something deeper, almost familiar.]

[*Friday's gaze darts over Cassia's face, struggling to focus on something, anything to look at. The way the light plays off her glasses stirs up another sickening memory that he pushes down, Vestal's presence looming ever-closer in the room, even in his frozen state.]

[*The scent of something herbal washes over him as Cassia shifts, sputtering at something Button said. Their voice isn't heard so much as felt, the low murmur rumbling softly through his shadows.]

...know da feeling. I’s been dere...neva make ya...alone, Friday. I’s here...if I’s gotta carry ya back...I’ll do it...hear me? ...gonna be okay, pal. No mattah what.

[*The notes catch in his throat, not icy barbs, but thick, formless lumps of emotion. His shadows shiver and distort in Button's hold, the subtle warping and shifting slowed to a dramatic degree. Friday's gaze settles on Cassia's eyes, shining with a deeper understanding then he'd ever seen in Vestal's.]

[*She shifts, mouth opening almost imperceptively as her voice softly murmurs in the cooling air.]

You belong, Friday… Remember that.

[*A faint echo of static hisses harshly in his ear.]

Apologize.

[*Friday flinches in Button's hold, taking a deep, shuddering breath. A strangled, warbling flute trill flutters weakly into the air between the trio.]

(M'sorry... I didn't mean to...)

[*His breath hitches as a clearer, lighter melody breaks through the fog, stilling the notes in his throat.]

It's not your fault, Fri.

Don't apologize.

(...)

[*Inhale. Exhale.]

[*The melody shifts, the flute shifting into a low duet of viola and cello strings.]

(...'ssia... Button...)

[*Distantly, the Fountain shifts.]

[*Friday curls slowly, against Button's chest, his shadows stiff and pale.]

[*If I'm going to petrify...]

[*Friday tucks his face into the fabric of the torn scarf, shuddering one last time as the silence pulls him under.]

(Thank you.)

[*...at least I'll be home.]

[*For Friday, a symphony like thousands of other symphonies. For Button...]

[*A stone statue lays curled in its arms. Somehow, he looks to be at peace, resting at last.]

[*Somewhere, the wind is howling. The shadows are silent.]

[*The cool, heavy stone feels warm in Button's arms.]

[FACTORY RESTORATION COMPLETE.] [Restarting...]

[*An obnoxious ad jingle rings out like a gunshot in the somber air of the apartment as Vestal's body jerks back to life in a series of rigid, puppetlike movements that quickly smooth out into a showy flourish as Vestal's body regains its neon green vibrance.]

G-G-Good evening and HELLO, esteemed customers! Can I interest you in-

[*He cuts himself off, having realized his surroundings. He turns his head, looking back and forth, then behind himself, as if expecting the scenery to change. When it doesn't, he puts a hand on his hip, scratching his head with a perplexed frown as he turns back to look at Cassia and Button.]

Erm... my apologies, dear patrons, but you wouldn't happen to know where I am, would you? I seem to have been redirected from my usual storefront!

[*His smile widens into a charming grin as he strides toward them, adjusting the lapels of his jacket meticulously.]

[*The sunglasses rest on the floor, inert.]

#encore #star light star bright #pianissimo #diminuendo #cantando #obbligato #tw panic attack #tw intrusive thoughts #tw dissociation #tw body horror #tw emetophobia #tw self harm #unintentionally #deltarune #deltarune roleplay #long post

ask-cassiaaddison

*[Friday's awareness pools in the nooks and crannies, collecting like drops of rainwater in dark alleyways, shadowed underpasses, and under yawning stretches of darkness cast by immense skyscrapers.]

*[He'd forgotten just how overwhelming the sounds of the city could be, its neon lights flashing blindingly, the cacophony of car horns blaring around every corner, the constant, barking shouts of addisons insisting on showing off their products to any passerby unlucky enough to cross their path, always pushing, never taking no for an answer-]

*[He resists the urge to withdraw his consciousness from the chaos and curl into shadow. He had to be heard, and that letter had sparked a fragile, hopeful song in his heart. A hope that somebody might be willing, be able to understand.]

*[Focus. Find it.]

*[A sensation, like eyes sliding shut as the sounds of the city fade, warped and distorted as if he'd been plunged underwater. The shouting of sales pitches dissolves, discarded from the composition. Next, the honking, slowly decrescendoing until it becomes a faint whisper undertneath the thrum of the city.]

*[Listen. Where is it?]

*[The sounds swirl around him, pushing against the edge of his mind, an insistent push, a demand for attention.]

*[It was too much. He couldn't sort through the noise, couldn't surface under the crashing waves of sound.]

(Hmm, hmm, hmm...)

(...!)

*[There. Drawing him along like a gentle current, a guiding light in the storm of sound, the gentle, cascading scales of a viola echo in the darkness.]

(Hell- Hello... Hello, how... are you?)

*[He draws closer, slipping from shadow to shadow, trying to focus on the sound as it stops and starts, making minor adjustments, adjusting its tone and pitch.]

*[This had to be it. As his focus narrows in on the musical phrases, he finds himself wondering once again...]

*[Will they understand?]

(We-lcome. Welcome.)

*[He was close now; he could almost feel the vibrations of the strings rippling through his shadows. He takes a breath.]

*[Inhale. Exhale.]

*[The music stirs in his chest as he materializes outside the building.]

[Friday is now outside a massive apartment building. That's... odd? He was probably expecting an office building, but upon looking in through the windows, sure enough, the signage states that this is definitely just housing. It's far too bright inside to travel by shadows.]

[As Friday walks inside, he is immediately hit with blinding LED lights. The lobby is full of random plants, benches much too small to be comfortable, and other decorations.]

[An Addison greets him with what feels like an overly-cheery, rehearsed greeting. It's almost irritating. The way they hold themself almost feels like they're doing it all automatically like some sort of animatronic, like they don't see Friday as more than a spur of movement in front of them. They don't make any effort to stop him as he walks by.]

[The elevator is... also intimidating. Again, bright and uninviting. Off-puttingly clean. The walls are reflective... Friday makes his way to the stairs. Luckily, he only needs to get to the second floor.]

[The hallway isn't nearly as bright as the rest of the building. Let's see here... 210... 211... 213... ah. 219. The sounds of someone practicing their viola are quite clear now. It's not the greatest he's ever heard, but it's definitely not the sound of a beginner. The words have faded a bit, it sounds more like an actual piece now.]

[Knock on the door?]

shadowguy-friday

((This post is a continuation from the previous reblog chain.))

*[Friday holds his breath, tail flicking anxiously as Cassia just barely manages to dodge the attacks. Her shield goes up, a gleaming sheet of pink. She's safe from Vestal, but...]

*[His ears twitch toward Cassia, picking up a tiny thread of... something under the cacophony of static and microphone feedback. Something thin, quiet—a nascent crescendo of strings blooming slowly beneath the ambient sounds of battle.]

*[Cassia's frozen, crouched in her defensive position. Her gaze is fixed somewhere in the middle distance, unseeing. The slight tremor in her breath, the faintest hiccup in her intake of air... he's all too familiar.]

*[Friday calls out, a worried scale of strings woven with an urgent clarinet trill, a high, fluttering series of notes that attempts to breach the veil around her.]

(Cassia? Cassia, are you alright?)

*[Nothing.]

*[Friday looks back at Button, at its worried expression, then back to Vestal, on the opposite side of the field, his form crackling with manic energy.]

*[This is your chance. You have to end it.]

*[I don't know if I can.]

*[Your friends are waiting. He's waiting.]

*[I can't do this alone.]

*[Maybe you don't have to.]

*[...]

*[You know what to play, right?]

*[I do.]

*[Friday takes a step forward, the soft 'tap' of his shoe echoing in his ears like a monolithic sheet of ice cracking.]

*[Vestal's gaze is still locked on Cassia.]

*[His tail whips once behind him, a stern motion meant to draw Vestal's attention.]

*[Vestal's eyes dart to Friday, his body popping harshly as his snarl deepens.]

N̸o̵w̸ ̴w̶h̶a̸t̸?̶ Are you playing hero, Cut Time? You saw how well that worked out for you last time!

*[Friday brings the viola to his shoulder, his gaze resting on Vestal, a silent, defiant stare. Then, he shifts his stance to face partially toward Cassia.]

*[Focus. Listen. Find it.]

*[It's difficult with Vestal's eyes boring holes into his form and the harsh hissing of static filling his ears, but if he just focuses, just counts the beats...]

*[...there.]

*[With a flourish, Friday brings the bow up, lingering for a moment in resting position.]

*[Inhale. Exhale.]

[37% TP]

*[Friday cast HARMONIC DUET!]

*[Friday draws the bow across the strings slowly, producing a single, sonorous note that seems to chase away the cold, crackling static in the room. As the grace note hangs in the air, a pocket of warmth seems to bloom around him, a deep, soft pool of shadow collecting at his feet.]

*[Again.]

*[Friday draws the bow back, leaning into the motion as his hand moves over the fingerboard. The second note is quickly joined by a third, drawn out note as Friday attempts to harmonize with the quiet call of Cassia's frayed melody. He's drawing the grace notes out as long as possible, inviting Cassia into the duet with the soft ebb and flow of his music.]

*[As Friday continues to play, the pool of shadow at his feet shifts, thinning itself as four shadowy staves bloom outward, detaching themselves from the ground and twining lazily through the air. Two curl loosely around Cassia, and two around Friday. They're pulsing faintly with a nascent magic, but it needs another push.]

*[Friday looks directly to Cassia as he begins to play in earnest. The notes crescendo slowly, their warmth curling in Cassia's chest.]

*[It's an invitation, a comfort, and an offer of friendship rolled into one, a melody that emulates the triumph of the breaking dawn after being lost in an endless night.]

*[Friday pours his very soul into the melody—stepping into the notes, allowing his body to sway in time with the rising crescendo. He draws from the dormant melody he's kept hidden for so long, that wellspring of love and affection bubbling in his chest. He directs that feeling—the blooming warmth, the easy companionship, the unwavering comfort—to Cassia.]

*[I'm with you in the dark.]

[*Friday is calling to Cassia!]

ask-cassiaaddison

[Button flinches as Cassia drops to the floor, gaze drifting between her and Friday. It notices the shift in Friday’s attention as he attempts to listen for something Button can’t pick up on.]

[Cassia is unable to hear Friday’s call, the distortion in her ears and vision have almost drowned out the entire world again. The music only registers as more noise.]

[Button returns its focus to Friday as the worry and a knowing pain of familiarity flashes across his face. Button can’t quite respond in the speed at which Friday glances at them, and then away again.]

[Button takes in a deep breath as Friday prepares his viola. It’s been too long since it’s heard its friends perform.]

*[DEFEND] [53% TP]

*[Friday lifts his bow, and…!]

[As the static recedes, Cassia begins to feel something begin to stir. The curtains of isolation seem to be pulled back with the most gentle of hands, parting from the center until her vision clears, not unlike brushing her bangs aside. Feeling returns to her hands and feet.]

[Cassia feels the harmony Friday is creating deep in her chest, helping her breathing return to normal. She eases a bit, slowly working herself up to standing once again. She’s still a bit shaky.]

[As the two staves wrap around Cassia, they seem to offer to help her to her feet. No contact is made, but she can feel them trying to carefully pick her up. She lifts herself off the floor entirely with her legs, her arms around her for balance. As she finally comes up and reenters her original position, her off-beat heart is finally metronome steady once more.]

[She smiles at Friday gratefully, if not a little apologetically, but her confident grin quickly returns as the music swells. The comforting warmth compels her to join.]

*[Cassia joined the duet!]

[She graciously accepts Friday’s invitation. It’s been a while since Cassia had to fully vocalize for music, but as she does, her voice seems to fill the room. It echoes, it vibrates in her chest, she can’t help but not just sway, but dance. Her body doesn’t stray far from her place, but her green flats seem to glide beneath her. Her arms sway at her sides parallel to the ground as she gracefully steps side to side in a pas de bourrée. She takes calculated steps until she loses herself to the music, making it up as she goes, loosening up just a little more, her harmonies becoming almost jazzy. She begins to make her part her own.]

[Every so often, Cassia’s eyes drift back to Friday and Button. There’s a certain strange joy to be found in each one of them, something Cassia is a little too preoccupied to dissect in the moment. What she does see is the look on Button’s face, proud of its friends.]

[Her eyes fall to Vestal once. She smiles at him. She knows something–someone–he doesn’t.]

[Button admires its friends and the show they’re putting on.]

[*Truly a performance to remember.]

shadowguy-friday

*[As Cassia joins the duet, Friday's melody becomes more vibrant, playing off Cassia's vocalizations with effortless grace. The music weaves through the air, a playful union of light and shadow. This is Friday in his element. This is the melody he's only recently begun daring to play, the melody that's been slowly welling in his chest ever since he first met Chip. Friendship. Family. Home.]

*[Friday sways in time with Cassia's steps, the movements of his bow becoming more fluid as he gains confidence. The staves move in a graceful dance around the two friends, their color gradually morphing from black, to white, then slowly, green. They weave between Cassia's feet, a gentle ballet that seems to shimmer and flow with her movements.]

*[Friday turns his head, ears twitching with nascent glee as he smiles giddily at Button, as if to say 'are you seeing this?'.]

*[As the piece reaches its climax, Friday begins to step in time with Cassia, doing his best to match her tempo. He lets out a light, airy piccolo arpeggio, a gleeful, incredulous laugh. His socks pad against the cool, wooden floor, a reminder of where he truly is. He's not in that awful, stuffy recording booth. He's not in the lavishly furnished penthouse. He's here, and he's taking a stand.]

*[As the last notes of the melody rise into the air, the staves pull inward, their green glow surrounding Cassia and Friday before dissolving, swirling upward and vanishing into the air with a faint shimmer.]

[+100 HP] [323/350] [+100 HP] [425/425]

[*TP gain increased for two turns!]

*[Friday stands with his bow still poised over the strings as the music dies, grinning defiantly at Vestal. A series of sharp, clipped, almost synthetic sounding saxophone notes and a rumble of double bass leap forth from his throat as his tail sways behind him, a silent, shadowy metronome.]

(I'm not your instrument. I'm not '22'.)

*[The melody is changing...!]

*[Friday gestures widely with his bow, indicating Button, then Cassia before returning it to its ready position. His voice changes, the harsh edges smoothing into something warm, laden with affection and purpose.]

(I'm Friday, and these are my friends.)

*[His grip tightens on the bow. The strings hum with anticipation.]

(I won't let you hurt them. I won't let you hurt me. Not anymore.)

*[The harsh, screaming whine of microphone feedback that had been building in the air becomes muted, stifled by the thrum of three melodies blazing defiantly in the darkness.]

[*Vestal's anger level has hit the bit integer limit!] [*Smells like melting plastic.]

*[ACT - TAUNT]

O̸h̷,̷ ̵i̴s̴ ̴ẗ̶̨̙̳̞́́h̷̡̯͖̿̓̀̈́ą̸̧̙̪̥̎͂t̸̢̮̎̽̃͋̔ ̸w̵h̸a̵t̵ ̴y̴o̴u̷ ̷t̷h̸i̵n̸k̶?̵

*[Vestal staggers toward Friday as if being yanked forth on puppet strings, his glasses slipping from his face and clattering to the floor. He pays them no mind.]

*[In place of normal Addison eyes are two gaping, eye shaped voids, white and glassy, completely empty.]

[*The audience is murmuring dissaprovingly.]

*[Vestal jabs his finger toward Friday, who flinches back a step but hold his defiant posture.]

I̶ ̶h̵a̷d̴ ̵e̶v̸e̸r̸y̶t̷h̵i̴n̴g̵ ̵b̶e̷f̶o̷r̸e̴ ̴y̵o̵u̶ ̷r̵u̴i̷n̵e̵d̵ ̶i̴t̸ ̷b̶y̸ ̶r̷u̵n̶n̷i̸n̵g̵ ̴o̴f̶f̵ ̵w̴i̶t̶h̵ ̸t̸h̷a̷t̷ ̸d̴e̴f̸e̵c̸t̷i̷v̸e̷ ̵l̵i̷t̵t̶l̸e̵ ̶P̸i̴p̵p̷i̷n̴s̴.̴

*[Vestal's form is fraying even further, a faint heat haze rising off of his skin. Flecks of spittle land on the floor with a faint 'sizzle'.]

I̷ ̵w̷a̷r̵n̴e̶d̸ ̸y̴o̴u̴ ̴w̵h̵a̵t̴ ̶w̵o̴u̸l̴d̵ ̸h̴a̷p̴p̶e̵n̵ ̷i̸f̶ ̷y̸o̶u̵ ̵e̷v̴e̶r̶ ̷t̸r̷i̸e̴d̶ ̸t̵o̷ ̵l̸e̸a̵v̵e̷,̵ ̶2̴2̸.̵

*[Sickly green glowing screens spring to life behind the deranged Addison, all displaying pilfered images from various security cameras. Candid shots of Button, Friday, and Chip light up the screens.]

E̵v̸e̸r̶y̴t̸h̸i̸n̴g̴.̵ ̶E̸V̴E̷R̵Y̴O̴N̷E̵ ̷y̶o̴u̴ ̸l̴o̴v̵e̸,̸ ̴g̵o̵n̶e̸ ̶w̵i̶t̵h̸ ̸a̵ ̸s̷n̵a̵p̵ ̴o̶f̷ ̵m̶y̸ ̶f̷i̶n̴g̶e̵r̶s̶.̵

*[Friday's ears pin back as he shifts his stance, a flicker of something harsh shooting through his shadows.]

*[Vestal leans in, leering. His "eyes" fill with static, his voice crackling with harsh distortions as he hisses his words directly at Friday.]

You know, I think I'll start with that clumsy little boytoy of yours. Would be a shame if a second unfortunate accident were to befall him, wouldn't it?

*[Friday's fur bristles, his shadows growing sharp at the edges. A low, dangerous rumble of double bass is rising in the air.]

[*Sounds like a building crescendo.]

ask-cassiaaddison

[Cassia’s dance becomes more and more exaggerated as the music swells, her gentle shifting from side to side getting more obvious, she leans heavily into each motion, she spins, she’s having fun. She laughs as the spell seems to dance in a duet of their own.]

[Button’s posture relaxes a bit as Friday looks at it. A sort of knowing face of joy gently makes its way across Button’s face. They chuckle to themself as well.]

[Cassia begins to really feel the music she’s dancing to. She’s smiling so hard it’s almost impossible to see. Her face feels warm and her body feels light. It feels like living in a memory, it feels like overwriting save data in the best way possible, redoing the things that came to cause regret. She’s no longer bound to the piano bench, no longer holding on to that wooden bar on the wall. This is her choreography. This is her cover of the composition. She can be whoever she wants.]

[Cassia laughs once more as the staves dance around her, healing most of her wounds. She reaches a hand up as they leave, as if to tell them “goodbye”.]

[As Friday points toward Button, it straightens its posture, supporting Friday in his defiance of Vestal and fight for individuality. There’s nowhere Button would rather be right now than beside their friend, wherever that is.]

(I'm not your instrument. I'm not '22'.)

[The air is filled with Friday’s voice. The tension feels like it melts away.]

(I'm Friday, and these are my friends.)

[As Friday points to Cassia, she smiles confidently and puffs up her chest a bit, supporting him in the fight for his autonomy and defiance of unrightful authority. Nothing makes Cassia more proud of herself or her friends than this.]

(I won't let you hurt them. I won't let you hurt me. Not anymore.)

[...Smells like something else is also melting. Cassia is getting tired. Why can’t she have more than just a moment of reprieve?]

[*Why is he being dragged like that? Why is he moving like that!?]

[Cassia realizes that if she keeps watching, she’ll lose herself completely. It feels like watching a train wreck. She has to look away. She has to look away. She has to.]

[Cassia looks into the glassy static voids in Vestal’s head for a second, a second too long. She tenses and shuts her eyes quickly, trying to think of anything else. Anything else at all.]

[Focus on the metronome. Focus on the beat. Remember the sound. Remember the steps.]

[It feels so impossible, but she needs to keep it together, at least enough to take her next turn. She refuses to fall to the floor again. This is miserable. She has to power through.]

[Follow the metronome. Follow the beat. Follow the sound. Follow the steps. Keep the rhythm going.]

*[DEFEND] [87% TP]

[Button gets just a bit closer as Vestal approaches Friday. Their breathing shallows, a moment of preparation.]

[Vestal jabs at Friday. Button’s head LED glows a little brighter.]

[Cassia is trying to tune Vestal out.]

[Button’s heart skips a beat looking at the photos. How did he get his hands on those? The looks on their faces, the sheer number of images... They manage to tear their vision away as Vestal makes his final remark.]

Would be a shame if a second unfortunate accident were to befall him, wouldn't it?

[That’s enough.]

[*ATTACK]

[Button takes a moment to line up its shot. They fire a single, large bullet at Vestal’s head.]

[Button takes just a second to carefully consider its words. They’re not making that mistake again.]

You’se not takin’ ANYBODY away from Friday. I don’t care what it takes ta stop ya, but no way I’s EVA. LEAVIN’ HIS SIDE. Not me, not Cassia, not Chip, not ANYBODY.

[Button’s voice tries to cut through Cassia’s tension. She unclenches her jaw.]

You’s a real sad excuse for a darkna, eh? Someone oughta teach ya ‘bout a lil sometin’ called “order”.

[Feels like returning to your elements.]

shadowguy-friday

SNIK-SNIK!

*[Friday's hands tense, his grip tightening on his instrument at Vestal's thinly veiled threat. His claws dig into the fingerboard, scraping along the polished surface with a discordant screech.]

*[He wouldn't.]

*[Friday can't stop himself from looking into those glassy white voids in Vestal's face. He sees his own shadow, shrouded in static, standing alone and unsure, staring back at him.]

...

That's some pretty music you're making there, dear. A touch unrefined, perhaps, but it has potential.

*[A surprised flute trill, followed by a hesitant clarinet scale.]

Hm... now, that's something different! You can change instruments?

*[A low, hesitant hum of double bass, accompanied by an apprehensive, rising cello scale.]

Say, why are you out here by yourself? A pretty little songbird like yourself should be up on stage!

*[Silence.]

Oh, I see. That washed-up CRT doesn't appreciate you, does he? Well, that won't do.

*[A low, mournful baritone saxophone note, ascending into a questioning crescendo of woodwinds.]

It's my business card, dear. If you need a friend in the industry, you just give me a call.

I'll make your wildest dreams come true.

...

*[The memory is scattered by a bright flash of white shooting across Friday's vision, slamming directly into Vestal's face and sending the deranged Addison stumbling back, clutching at his face.]

[-68 HP] [176/350]

You’se not takin’ ANYBODY away from Friday. I don’t care what it takes ta stop ya, but no way I’s EVA. LEAVIN’ HIS SIDE. Not me, not Cassia, not Chip, not ANYBODY.

*[Friday's grip on the viola wavers, the melody in his chest swelling in a joyous, sweeping crescendo as Button's words reach him.]

You’s a real sad excuse for a darkna, eh? Someone oughta teach ya ‘bout a lil sometin’ called “order”.

*[The smell of melting plastic is becoming more and more potent.]

A̵̲͔̾̋Ú̵̻̤G̷̪͓͝Ḧ̵̞́-̴͎̭̉!̸̘͂

*[Vestal keeps one hand over his face where Button's attack made contact, hissing through his teeth as his other hand blindly fumbles for his earpiece, missing several times before making contact. He freezes.]

.̷.̶.̴

*[The hand over his face slowly drags its way down, smearing the pixels in a grotesque imitation of melting plastic before the pixels glitch violently once more, snapping back into place. The room is getting opressively warm.]

...it's q̵u̴i̶e̶t̸.̷

*[Vestal's voice cracks, his hand digging into the side of his head as his face glitches violently once more. His chest heaves, the hand that was on his face now clutching the front of his shirt as he staggers from side to side, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.]

N̶o̷,̶ ̸n̷o̵,̵ ̶n̸o̵,̴ ̴n̶o̶,̷ ̷n̵o̵.̷.̶.̶

*[Friday's ears pin back at the disturbing sight of Vestal's condition worsening, the manic movements and distorted sounds an awful cacophony in his ears. He shuffles back a step to be closer to Button and Cassia, seeking support in their presence.]

*[He's seen Vestal overclock before—late night recording sessions, high stakes contract negotiations, even the odd fight with another Addison—but he's never seen it get so bad before. Usually, overclocking provided Vestal with an extra boost of processing power, making it easier for him to complete particularily strenuous tasks, but this was something else entirely.]

*[This was self-destruction in the pursuit of control.]

*[Friday brushes his tail against Cassia's leg this time, a simultaneous plea for support and a silent reassurance.]

*[Vestal, still clawing at the side of his own face, snaps his neck up to look directly at Button.]

W̸h̶a̸t̴ ̴d̵i̵d̸ ̸y̷o̵u̸ ̸D̵O̷?̶

*[His voice is fraught with frayed, synthetic noise as he lurches toward the Zapper with halting, jerky movements.]

Y̴o̴u̶ ̴b̸r̵o̶k̷e̴ ̴i̷t̷!̷ ̶Y̶o̴u̵ ̷B̸̹̟̪͚͑̀̌̚R̶̢̤̺̻̈́̈Ọ̸͆Ķ̵̪̺̣͗͗̑̽Ë̴͈̠ ̶̨̠̈́̏̔̓͜Ì̵̡̩̟T̸̡̗̔̀̓̿!̷͉̗̩̠̦͌̅

*[Vestal makes a clumsy swipe at Button. It can feel the heat radiating off of him as his hand misses their shoulder by inches. He lets out a frustrated shriek and lunges forward-]

*[ATTACK]

*[A harsh cymbal crash and sizzle pierces the air as a blur of shadow jumps between Button and Vestal. Friday's viola clatters to the floor with a harsh ringing of strings.]

[-100 HP] [76/350]

*[Vestal staggers back, clutching his arm—now sporting four gouges of nothingness, sparking wildly as if the pixels were forcibly torn out—screeching horribly as his form distorts, nearly tearing itself apart in shock.]

F̷̢̎͛͌̏ͅŲ̴͚̹̃́C̴̦̺͇͕̝̎̒̒̚Ḱ̷͇̪-!

*[Friday stands between Button and Vestal, claw-tipped hands still tensed in front of him. He's tensed, tail puffed in anger, ears pinned back. His mouth opens in a jarring snarl of grating strings and hissing cymbals.]

(I said, you won't hurt my friends.)

*[For the first time since the start of the battle, a flicker of genuine fear shoots across Vestal's face.]

[*The audience is silent.]

ask-cassiaaddison

[Button recoils slightly at the sight of Vestal’s form threatening to dissolve. The smell is starting to get to it. Button feels a worried expression force itself to form on their face as Vestal stumbles.]

[Cassia refuses to look at Vestal. She knows whatever is going on just a few feet away from her would be sickening to see, and she needs to play every beat in time. If the rising temperature was any indicator, this is getting worse than anything she’s ever personally bore witness to. The sizzling and popping makes her skin crawl. His voice cracks. Something horrific is happening to him.]

[She opens her eyes, but she deliberately keeps them glued to the floor. She slides closer to Friday.]

[Button heel-toes closer to Friday as he silently asks for their support. It puts a hand on his shoulder.]

[Cassia’s eyes dart side to side as Friday’s tail flicks against her leg, fighting to stay locked on the ground. She reaches her arm out slowly, trying to find exactly where he is in the corner of her vision. The back of her hand brushes against the back of Friday’s.]

[Vestal barks at Button, prompting it to pull both its hands up defensively.]

I-

[Vestal’s attack misses as Button dramatically leans back away from him. The heat is getting to them. They hardly have a moment to react before-]

[The viola clattering against the floor drags a gasp out of Cassia’s throat.]

[Button stares at Friday dumbfounded for a moment. If it weren’t for the terrible sight in front of them, Button might’ve let some pride in its friend be known. They make sure to get back to that as soon as this nightmare ends…]

[The sound is becoming unbearable.]

*[DEFEND] [100% TP]

[Cassia’s AdBlock springs back to life, about where she believes will best block Vestal from her vision based on where the sounds are coming from.]

[She risks a glance up.]

[*Phew…]

[She turns to look at Friday and Button.]

(I said, you won't hurt my friends.)

[*...Friends?]

[Cassia stands almost perfectly still. Her heat beats. She takes in the scene before her.]

[Button is also standing still in observation of Friday and Vestal. Something about that brings her a feeling of stability.]

[She watches the rise and fall of Friday’s hunched shoulders, his heavy breathing making the harsh sound of strings and cymbals that much harsher. His ears lay flat against his head. She thinks back to the beanie that he was wearing when he came in. She remembers the loud ‘thud’ of his tail against the table leg, almost as if he hadn’t been used to using it. She thinks about the way his claws dug so painfully deep into his knees, and the way he kneaded his hair. She wonders about the scarf.]

[She thinks about just how nervous, almost small he seemed when he first showed up. And now, he stands in front of Button, in what she can only imagine is a position not much unlike how she wishes she could be in this moment on his behalf. She’s a little mad at herself for being unable to so much as look at Vestal now, but focusing on Friday, and on her rhythm, she finds a little fragment of forgiveness for herself.]

[*Friends…]

[Cassia smiles gently.]

[...]

[Button sees the panic in Vestal’s eyes...]

[And an opportunity.]

[0% TP] *[MAGIC - PowerOff]

shadowguy-friday

*[Button cast PowerOff!]

*[All at once, the room goes silent.]

*[The oppressive hum of static, the discordant screech of microphone feedback, the horrible glitching speech from Vestal's throat—silenced in an instant.]

*[Startled, Friday straightens, his ears flicking up, swiveling anxiously. Vestal has stopped moving.]

*[It's as if the very air has been sucked out of the room.]

*[Vestal is frozen in place, clutching his arm, mouth open in protest. If one cared to look closely, they might see the undercurrent of fear and desperation written into his expression.]

*[His eyes are empty. No static. No mirrors. Just... hollow.]

*[Distantly, Friday realizes the whining noise he's hearing isn't coming from Vestal anymore. He swallows hard, pushing the lump back down his throat.]

[*You won!] [*Got 10 EXP and 97 D$.]

*[Cassia's apartment fades back into view as the battle ends.]

*[Friday's vision swims minutely, the edges of his vision blurring as he stares at the empty husk half-slumped in front of him. The tension from the battle is slowly bleeding away, replaced by a burgeoning sense of horror.]

*[Friday's gaze tears itself from Vestal's empty shell and falls to his still-clawed hands.]

*[I...]

*[He forces himself to look away—to look at anything but the damage he caused.]

*[...why aren't I relieved?]

*[His tail curls itself around his leg, hiding itself against the shadowed material of his pants as his ears pin back once more. He crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands underneath his arms.]

*[We stopped him. We won.]

*[Friday turns his head to the side, his gaze refocusing on Cassia. His expression drops further at her tense stance.]

*[...but they saw.]

*[Friday forces himself to look back down at his shoes. The floor is shifting under his feet. A strangled clarinet squeak escapes his throat as he attempts to bite back a noise of distress.]

*[They saw me... attack him. Like a feral animal.]

*[Slowly, agonizingly, Friday forces himself to look back at Vestal. The Addison is half-slumped, his torso sagging forward and arms limp at his sides like a puppet with its strings cut. Somehow, he's still standing.]

*[No. I'm not like him. I'm not...]

*[Friday staggers back, swaying on his feet as a sudden wave of fatigue washes over him, oppressive in its weight. In an instant, it feels as if all his energy has been drained at once, leaving his shadows feeling sluggish and sticky, like molasses. He reaches out for something, anything to keep him from falling as a reedy saxophone whine forces itself from his throat.]

*[So consumed by his thoughts, Friday doesn't notice the flickering screen pop up in front of Vestal's statuesque form.]

[DATA CORRUPTED] [Restoring to factory settings...] [20%]

ask-cassiaaddison

[The silence is deafening. The atmosphere feels heavy for how empty it now is, and almost sickeningly still.]

[Cassia focuses on her breathing… in… and out…]

[It’s over. At least for now. That’s all she can ask for.]

[Well…]

[She glances at Button and Friday again. Friday’s shadows seem to almost want to collapse back in on themselves. Button seems to be scanning Friday as well.]

[It seems that, despite the tense atmosphere, at least Button also feels some relief. It’ll be a little bit more time before she has all she can really ask for.]

[The apartment fades back into view. Cassia’s AdBlock disintegrates into tiny glowing pixels which fade quickly. She recasts her screen to continue blocking out the sight of Vestal. Button’s posture visibly relaxes.]

[Cassia holds her hand up at her side with her palm facing her screen. It hovers just in front of her hand, following and reorienting slightly as she walks around Vestal. She carefully takes a few steps towards Friday’s scarf on the ground. She bends at the knees to pick it up, inspecting it.]

[She doesn’t take in much information about it before hearing shuffling coming from behind her. She quickly turns around, away from Vestal, as her screen seems to slide into place between the two addisons. She steps aside from him to see what’s happening.]

[Button has repositioned themself with its arms out to catch Friday as he seems to trip, grasping at nothing. They catch him with a slight lean back, probably to account for the weight shift.]

Whoa! Careful dere, pal…

[Cassia glides back to the others with the scarf still in her hands, but her focus entirely on Button and Friday.]

Doin’ arright, Friday? You’s not lookin’ so good, dere…

[Button’s head swivels slightly, as if looking for something. It looks directly at Cassia after a moment. Button points back with their head.]

Mind helpin’ me help ‘im ta da couch?

[Cassia nods, gently moving the scarf around such that she’s cradling in with one arm, giving her the other arm to help hold Friday upright as they bring him to the couch.]

[They set Friday down next to one of the arms of the couch, and Button sits down next to him.]

Hmm…

Oh, right… I still have some snacks here on the table… I definitely need a bite of that…

[She hands the scarf back to Friday gingerly before turning around to check her options. The screen continues to hover just beside her, despite her hand no longer guiding it.]

[She hears someone shift slightly on the couch as she turns around.]

Oh, right, ya grabbed his scarf…

How’s it lookin’, Friday...?

shadowguy-friday

*[Friday barely feels himself sinking into Button's arms, distantly registering the warmth radiating from his friend. Internally, he pleads with his legs to move, they're trying to help you, move—and manages to weakly stumble toward the blurry shape of the couch with Button and Cassia's help.]

*[What was I thinking...?]

*[His shadows slacken as he's gently deposited onto the couch, his vision slowly refocusing as Button settles onto the couch next to him, still radiating warmth from the exertion of the battle. Friday fights the urge to lean into Button and just... close his eyes. Sleep until everything fades away, until the melody stops screaming, until...]

*[Until Chip comes home.]

*[His hands tremble faintly in his lap as he chokes back a harsh, grating sound that vaguely resembled nails dragging across polished wood—a pained bastardization of strings. His ears tremble in their position pressed flat against his head. His breaths come slow and shallow, punctuated by airy, wheezing saxophone notes.]

*[Chip... Chip, please come home.]

*[Distantly, Friday hears Cassia shuffling around in front of the couch, sees the faint pink glow from her screen hovering alongside her. His gaze remains fixed on his lap, on his hands. The phantom weight of a small, gloved hand resting in his prickles at his senses.]

*[I miss you.]

*[The air shifts, and suddenly, a swath of blue fabric comes into view, guided by Cassia's hands. It settles gently into his lap, the soft fabric an unexpected—but not unwelcome—softness draping over the cool shadow of his still shaking hands.]

*[He blinks once, twice, bringing the pattern into focus. A shard of ice embeds itself deep in his chest as the tattered garment comes into focus.]

*[The fabric now sports a jagged tear through the center of one of the star patches, several inches long.]

Oh, right, ya grabbed his scarf…

How’s it lookin’, Friday...?

*[Friday's fists ball in the fabric, his jaw clenching tightly as he pulls the fabric to his chest, holding it close, trying with all his might not to cry.]

*[A silent sob racks his body as he curls in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest and gritting his teeth.]

*[I haven't lost him yet. He's still coming home. Button promised. I promised.]

*[A shiver rips through Friday's shadows as he desperately buries his face in the torn fabric. If he pretends, he can still smell the laundry detergent Chip bought. The one with the colorful bubbles, from one of Tenna's sponsorships.]

*[A choked trumpet wail finally breaks free from his throat, muffled by the fabric covering Friday's face.]

(I'm sorry, Button-)

*[Friday wants so, so badly to curl into Button's side and let himself cry, but...]

*[They're afraid of me now, aren't they? I attacked him right in front of Button, like some kind of... feral alleycat.]

*[The shadows pooling in the corners of the room shiver.]

[DATA CORRUPTED] [Restoring to factory settings...] [60%]

ask-cassiaaddison

[Cassia turns back to the table for a moment and opens the box of Key Candies, which are little chocolate squares aptly named for their shape and colorful letters on top. She received them as promotion from a nearby bakery. She quickly pops a few in her mouth.]

[325/325 HP]

[She turns around and stands next to Friday on the other side of the arm of the couch. The light of her screen dims so as to not bother him too much, but she would still rather not have to look just yet.]

[Curiosity is slowly beginning to get the better of her, however. How could Vestal have possibly found Friday so soon after that message she received? What did he want from him so badly that he would break into her apartment? What is with all of his equipment…?]

[She considers looking at him, even if it won't answer any of those questions. She’ll need to again soon, anyway. She needs to get him back out of her apartment somehow…]

[She hasn’t noticed the screen counting up just yet. It doesn’t look like Button noticed anything out of the ordinary, either. There’s more pressing matters than a frozen malicious program right now.]

[Cassia’s focus shifts back to Friday as he holds the scarf close, sobs fighting to escape him. She puts a hand on the arm of the couch. She notices that Button is also shifting a bit closer to Friday. He seems a little lost in his thoughts to notice it just yet, though.]

[As Friday’s voice fully breaks free, Cassia stoops down just a bit so that she’s at eye level with him.]

[Friday’s apology to Button causes it to hug him tight. They wrap one arm around his shoulders, perhaps a bit suddenly, and dip their head slightly towards his.]

[Cassia pats his shoulder.]

You did good out there, Friday. I’m just glad we’re all still in one piece.

[Button nods and squeezes him a little more.]

Yeah, what Cassia said. It’s arright, Friday. No need ta be sorry.

I’s proud of ya.

shadowguy-friday

*[Cassia and Button's words send a flicker of warmth shooting through Friday's shadows, loosening the painful knot in his chest a fraction. The scarf pressed to his face grows damp as his shoulders shake, Button and Cassia's close proximity warring against the nascent chill permeating his shadows.]

*[He can still feel them. His eyes. Those unnerving, piercing lenses, and the feeling of hundreds watching him beyond them. Vestal's hands correcting his posture, adjusting his hat, touching his shoulders-]

Good, 22. You're a natural.

*[A shiver rips through his shadows. Instinctively, he curls closer to Button's familiar presence, the small movement requiring immense effort, like pressing himself through a wall of gelatin. He finds himself sniffling into the torn fabric of the scarf, the icy chill giving way to a cold numbness, not unlike distant pins and needles.]

This is what you were meant to be.

*[Friday tries to press his ears down, to tuck them away as he curls into Button's hold. The shadowy appendages twitch once, twice, but remain stubbornly in place.]

*[He wills his tail to curl around his legs, to keep out of the way. It lays limp against the cushions, less a limb and more a heavy rope of shadow.]

I'm the only one who understands you, 22. We're partners now, meant to be! After all, what's a musician without a conductor, hm?

*[A soft current of static dances through the air, clouding his vision and blanketing the world in a droning haze of snow. Friday's gaze unfocuses, the tears streaming down without resistance. Distantly, he becomes aware of something in his chest fraying, weakly clawing for purchase for a moment before severing, leaving behind an empty hollow.]

*[His mind is drifting.]

*[Friday's ears and tail twitch weakly, their shadows beginning to grow stiff and pale.]

[*Sounds like purposeless noise.]

ask-cassiaaddison

[Cassia feels Friday’s shadows shift and his temperature fluctuate. She rubs his back as he cries, leaning into him slightly more. She closes her eyes for just a moment, silently attempting to wish for him to feel her intention.]

[Friday’s shadow jolts suddenly, and as he leans closer to Button, Cassia shifts her weight back. She opens her eyes again and hums a soft note to herself. Friday seems to be getting colder…]

[Carefully, Cassia stands back up fully with her hand on the arm of the couch next to Friday. She looks him over. He’s almost entirely motionless now, save for twitches and slight ripples here and there.]

[She hears Button mutter something. She can’t quite make out what they’re saying, and by the looks of it, Friday isn’t hearing it, either.]

[She furrows her brows and purses her lips slightly, then takes a few steps as she intends to join them on the couch.]

[She notices something in the corner of her vision.]

[Friday’s ears…]

[She stops where she’s standing to open her mouth and say something, anything, but as soon as she grabs hold of the words she wants to say, Button glances up at her, where her gaze is stuck, and she’s cut off.]

[She watches quietly as Button pulls Friday even closer, taking him in with both arms now. It gives him a long squeeze, and its LEDs glow a little brighter. She leans back down to Friday a little bit.]

[Button’s voice is a bit muffled, now that its face is more buried into the side of Friday’s head. But, as it speaks up, albeit still a bit softly, Cassia can make out what they’re saying.]

Friday, pal… listen ta me. I know ya scared. I know ya feel cold ‘n alone. I don’t care what dat Addison ova dere’s eva said or done ta ya, but ya not his instrument, ‘n ya don’t have ta worry ‘bout him anymore, I’ll make sure of it.

[Button pulls its leg a little closer to its body, curling in a bit more. Cassia nods silently as Button continues speaking.]

I meant it when I said dat nobody’s gonna take anybody away from ya. ‘N nothin’ could EVA make me even tink bout leavin’ ya side myself. I’s here for ya, through thick ‘n thin. Cassia’s gotcha back. ‘N we’s gonna find Chip, ‘n when we do, I know for a FACT dat he’ll neva, eva, wanna leave ya side again. We care aboutcha too much ta let anythin’ else be da case.

Mark my woids, Friday, we’s gonna get youse both back home.

shadowguy-friday

*[Button's quiet words of encouragement sink into the heavy shadows, casting soft ripples across Friday's form. The warm red glow of the LEDs dances over the curves of the couch, casting shadows that seem softer than before.]

*[Friday lets himself be held. He feels... heavy. Something twists in his chest. His hands tremble where they're tucked against his chest, still wrapped in the ripped scarf. Button's body radiates a steady warmth that makes the chill feel so much more stark in comparison. Button pulls him closer. Friday lets himself be moved.]

*[The chill stalls, just for a moment, before Friday's gaze, tucked into Button's shoulder and peering over the back of the couch, lands on the statuesque Addison's face.]

*[Those empty, hollow eyes.]

*[He doesn't want to look, but he forces himself to.]

You don't want to? What you want is irrelevant, 22. This is showbusiness. You give the audience what they want, or you fade into obscurity. You don't want that, do you?

*[He can't look away.]

*[He tries to open his mouth—tries to play a single note—but nothing happens. There's something stopping the music from coming. A tiny, pathetic, mangled recorder squeak is muffled by Button's shoulder.]

Look, 22. Without my help, we'll lose everything we've worked so hard to build. Do you want to be forgotten? Let me tell you 22, once you've stopped being entertaining, the audience, the sponsors, your "friends"? They'll all disappear. You'll have nothing.

*[He desperately wants to look away. Why can't he look away? Why can't he stop staring?]

*[Another pathetic tremor racks his shadows. He forces himself to still, warring against the icy knot in his chest.]

*[Slowly, agonizingly slowly, a crescendoing whine of abused viola strings fills the air. It's a sound without any musical intent behind it, a drawn-out cry of pain. With a final, jerky, desperate movement, Friday buries his face into Button's shoulder, hands weakly flexing in the fabric of the torn scarf.]

*[I'm home. I'm home. Why does it still hurt so much?]

Cover those ridiculous things up. You're a musician, not a wild beast. Cat videos are old news, 22. You won't get recognition for that.

*[Cold dread creeps up Friday's spine, stiffening his limbs as an image flashes unbidden in his mind. Vestal's face, snarling and clutching his hand, pixels fraying from a shallow cut in his skin.]

AUGH! What was that, you moron? Are you trying to kill me? I don't care if it was an accident! If you can't control yourself, then maybe we should have you declawed!

(I'm sorry! It was an accident! I- I really didn't mean to-!)

...

(Please, Vess! I'll be better! I'll...)

It's alright, sweetheart. I know you didn't mean it. You could seriously hurt someone with those, you know? Even if you don't mean to. Maybe you should just keep them tucked away, yeah? Wouldn't want to hurt someone important to you.

*[The sensation of pins and needles in Friday's ears intensify. He shivers against Button's hold, weakly trying to push the Zapper away. Low, squeaking saxophone notes choke their way out of his throat.]

(Don't—stop, I'm-)

*[He flinches as a particularly sharp pain lances through his shadows. He wriggles weakly in Button's grasp, hand thumping uselessly against its shoulder.]

(I might hurt you- just let me go-!)

*[The texture of cold, brittle stone scrapes lightly across the side of Button's face.]

[DATA CORRUPTED] [Restoring to factory settings...] [90%]

#encore #star light star bright #pianissimo #cantando #obbligato #diminuendo #tw panic attack #tw intrusive thoughts #tw dissociation #tw body horror #tw emetophobia #tw self harm #unintentionally #deltarune #deltarune roleplay #long post