snowblindrpg | [log] More children for Team Babysitter [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] More children for Team Babysitter [closed]

Characters: Enoch, Quark, House, Frisk
Location: D11(58)
Date: 54 evening-ish, whenever they get there
Summary: House asked Enoch to look out for Frisk because he can't outrun a monster. Enoch can't say no when a child is in danger.
Warnings: None yet? General Snowblind stuff? There may be a monster we haven't accounted for yet?

It had been a little less than halfway through the day when Enoch and Quark had made it to the house buried under the snow wall. It was starting to feel a little nostalgic, somehow, though not entirely in the best of ways; this was the place where It had struck, where he'd spent the entire night in its grip...

...But it was also the place he'd made a new friend. It was a house between the open air and the dark tunnels below. And he had all day to either contemplate its symbolism or wallow in the despair encroaching on the back of his mind. He knew better than to give in to that.

Eventually, House would arrive through the other door, with their new little companion.

((ooc: This is a mingle, go make your own toplevels for anything you guys want!))

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EVENING

[It's been so hard to stay awake and lively. Quark feels better than he did a few days ago, when the depression hit so hard nothing seemed to matter anymore and Enoch had to all but carry him around like a much younger child. But where he's usually so inquisitive, checking each and every corner of the buildings they stay in for the night to try and find any oddities to investigate, now he just sits.

He keeps an eye on Enoch as the man searches, anxious to be left alone to his thoughts, but the cozy confines of the snowed in room makes it near impossible to really be left alone at all. Quark gets comfortable, taking his hat off and cradling it in his lap so he can ease the weight pressing down on his head. He's not using to carrying so many things inside of it. Or, rather, things that are heavier than a few snacks.

Always conscious of how worried Enoch can be of him in return, whenever the man gets close or looks his way he makes an effort to smile. And when the door finally opens and their new traveling buddies emerge, Quark'll find enough energy to give them at least a somewhat warm welcome.]

You made it!

NIGHT; POST LOCKDOWN

[As tired as he looks and feels, Quark has trouble sleeping. He's become use to this feeling. He doesn't want to wake anyone else up, but if someone's close by and seem up for a conversation, he'll turn to them. Anything to distract himself from the quiet. The silence has stopped feeling comfortable.]

How are you feeling?

[Frisk is, perhaps predictably, the first through the door, being rather more mobile in general. They hold it open just long enough to make sure that it isn't going to swing right back into House's face before bounding inside. It's been a long day, but they've had worse.

Truthfully Frisk is happiest about new people. Frisk isn't the greatest of conversationalists themselves, but... House is not great company and there's really no getting around that. They greet the two with a wave and a grin.]

Yep.

[The ceiling overhead creaks ominously for a moment, and Frisk glances up for a moment before turning back to face Enoch and Quark. Quark they remembered from the network post yesterday but Enoch was new...]

[Enoch offers the newcomer a tiny smile as they look his way, and a raised hand as if attempting a wave in reply. The lack of findings today was...discouraging, in his current state of mind.]

Hello, there, little one. Did you just arrive here recently?

Good.

[He was afraid they'd run into monsters on the way, or just not show up in time. He follows Frisk's gaze up to the ceiling and shrugs.]

Don't worry, I don't think it's going to cave in or anything. It is pretty spooky though.

[When Enoch speaks, Quark's excitement doubles.]

This is Enoch, he's super nice!

Yeah...

[Spooky was one way of putting it, as they blinked up cautiously at the roof for a second longer. But almost kind of exciting too, like being in a haunted house. Or walking through Muffet's lair.

At Enoch's question, they turn, hands drifting to interlock underneath their backpack as they bounce on their feet a little.]

Mmhmm. The day before yesterday.

[So... Quark and Enoch. Two new friends, it seemed!]

Edited 2015-11-12 07:41 (UTC)

You're certainly a cheerful one. We're fortunate to have someone in such high spirits with us.

[He can't help but smile a little brighter in spite of his current state; their cheerfulness is infectious. And since Quark has introduced him...he tends not to give his name unless asked, but it would be rude for introductions to be left only half done.]

So, little one, what is your name?

[More people asking their name. What a world this one actually is. They can't help but beam a bit under the praise too.]

Frisk.

Now that we're all introduced, we can be friends!

[Or companions, at least, and that's a step in the right direction. Quark's just really pumped about the whole friends thing.]

Don't be shy to say if you need anything. We have plenty of stuff we can share. We gotta look out for each other while we're traveling together, after all.

Quark's right.

[And it's a relief he seems to be recovering from whatever had plagued him before too, but he doesn't comment on it. For all he knows it could also be a front to hide any pain over seeing Clem's name in the obituary, and comment could strain it. So it's Frisk he focuses on instead.]

In fact...I just remembered something I have I think you could use.

[He shrugs his backpack off one shoulder and slides it off his arm without moving his cloak too much - he's gotten decent at that. He reaches into it and produces a child's wool cap. He had...actually meant to give it to Clem, but it had been weeks before they'd even met, and by then he'd forgotten he even had it in the wake of other events.]

Here...I hope this hat is the right size for you.

Tired. Why aren't you sleeping, kid?

[House is also in pain, but he'll neglect mentioning that. Their efforts in the hospital yesterday had taken more of a toll than House wanted. Stooping, kneeling, and half-crawling around on the ground for hours, looking for vent covers to destroy had taken more out of him than he wants to admit.]

Dunno.

[Well, he doesn't want to lie about it.]

I can't stop thinking long enough to fall asleep, I guess.

[Is that a thing? He's not sure. But he feels like that's it. Too many thoughts, and worries, and feelings that he can't tune out. And it makes him so wound up that sleeping feels so impossible. It's easier to just top trying until he really can't help but fall asleep.]

How about you?

Catching up on events. It's a bitch not having a tablet.

[He holds up the one in his hands for emphasis.]

So, what are you thinking about? Fast cars and beautiful girls? That's usually what keeps me up at night.

[Fast cars and beautiful girls? The look of utter confusion that Quark gives House speaks volume of his knowledge and opinion on both.]

Really...?

[He almost adds a "that's weird" but realizes it would be impolite, so swallows the impulse.]

Do you have a fast car back home?

[His Grandpa just has this old, dumpy, foul-smelling truck. Quark doesn't have much of a reference for nice cars.]

[House figures he'll have to give it four or five years before Quark can really appreciate that joke. Why are most of the tolerable people underage?]

Real fast car. I got it from the mob after fixing up one of their boys. Did the mafia manage to outlive your apocalypse?

[Whoa. This guy really is an outlaw.]

I dunno. Probably! I guess I wouldn't really know if I met someone from the mafia unless they said something like "this is a stickup" or "get me my money or you'll be swimming with the fishes" while wearing a nice suit.

Kid, you've been watching some really crap mafia movies in the future. [House snorts in amusement, then grimaces and rubs his leg out of sight beneath his blanket. He wishes he had his morphine. This doesn't bode well for travel tomorrow.]

Do you even still have cable, or is it just everyone with DVD players and TVs and AM radios trying to connect to each other after the end?

[Quark pouts. He likes those movies! And besides.]

I don't have many options! All the other movies we have are my Grandpa's "Grandpa videos" and he keeps them too high up for me to get to because he says I'm too young to watch them.

[Which he definitely thinks is unfair. He doesn't think he's too young to handle anything.]

No, we don't have cable. [All Quark knows about cable was its legendary amount of stations and unlimited content! It sounds like something from a dream.] But once a week the theater comes into town! Sometimes they show movies, other times they show news and reports and things. I like it when they show movies, but my Grandpa only comes with me if he can watch the news.

[Theater day is his favorite day of the week. He wishes every day could be theater day.]

What kind of movies do you like to watch?

Edited 2015-11-20 21:48 (UTC)

[House has a good idea what the 'Grandpa videos' are and thinks he might like this guy. As much as he likes anyone.]

Anything action-packed... or melodramatic. Add the two of them together and you get James Bond. You know who James Bond is?

[That certainly would be a pretty picture. Two grumpy, disillusioned old men having drinks at a bar and complaining about everything. Except for maybe the content of said grandpa videos.]

No...I don't think so...

[He pauses in thought, then his eyes light up.]

Wait! Is he the one who likes things shaken and not stirred?

[Depending on grandpa's particular 'interests,' there might be some making fun.]

That's the one. [Of course it's the famous lines.] Introduces himself as:

Bond. James Bond.

[He puts on his best Sean Connery impression for that.]

I'll hand it to the Brits. They know how to do spies.

Evening

[Once introductions have been made, Frisk settles down on one of the couches in the living room, setting their backpack down to dig through it. Their fingers meet something crumbling, and they remember. Mom's gift.

They've been trying to save it, but eventually the crust is gonna go stale. Only the cold's been preserving it as much as it has thus far. They hesitate a lot. It doesn't feel right to just wolf it all down themselves either.

Finally...]

I have pie. If anyone...

[If anyone wants some. You just can't have all of it. Frisk isn't ready to lose it all yet.]

Night

[Quark isn't the only kidlet with difficulty sleeping. It's early in the am that Frisk will jerk awake, eyes blinking rapidly in the heavy darkness. Even before then it would've been clear - had anybody been watching - that things weren't all well. Nothing harsh, but definite frowning and shifting in their sleep.

They could only remember vague flashes of what the nightmare was about this time. Which means it wasn't one of the worst, or even the particularly bad ones.

Still bad enough to prevent them from falling back asleep. Instead Frisk stands up, blanket still wrapped around themselves and shuffles into the kitchen, hoping to not disturb anyone. They needed some time to think.

That's all. Just think.]

[Pie? How generous of them... He's been eating very little but pies as far as he's concerned (pizzas are weird upside-down pies to him, and those little ones are very easily stacked in his backpack, maximizing space), but it would be very rude of him to refuse.]

That's very kind of you. What sort of pie is it?

Cinnamon and butterscotch.

[Toriel's favorite recipe, and honestly it's Frisk's too. Especially nowadays. And some of that personal connection probably shows, given the soft sort of smile on their face.]

[Cinnamon, he knows. Traders from farther east than he'd managed to travel regularly had it, though it was quite expensive, and he'd only ever had it as part of a gift. He'd smelled it often enough, though.

Butterscotch, on the other hand, is entirely foreign to him.]

I'm afraid I don't know butterscotch...what is that? It doesn't sound like a fruit...

[Doesn't sound like a meat either. Some kind of cheese, maybe? Probably sweet, to pair with cinnamon.]

[Before, Frisk might not have been entirely sure, aside from how it tastes. But they've helped Toriel with pie-making a few times by now.]

It's made with butter and sugar. It tastes really nice!

[Especially when paired with the cinnamon. And Toriel's pie in particular was very very good.]

[Well, he was right about the sweet part at least. Sweets are nice in moderation, but he prefers savory things. All the same, he's curious to try something new!]

All right, I'll be glad to try some, if you don't mind parting with a little of it.

[And Frisk and Quark aren't the only ones having nightmares. Enoch's are as fitful as the sleep they inspire, flitting from subject to subject. It's a dream of finding Clem dead that finally causes him to give up on sleep, just in time to see Frisk shuffle off. Drawing his cloak tight around himself, he follows, seeking company and hoping to help them.]

You can't sleep, either?

[He speaks softly, so as not to wake the others if they're still asleep.]

[Frisk tilts their head a little to the side, surprised, but then shakes it slowly, a rueful sort of smile working its way across their face.]

's okay. I'm okay.

[Really, this wasn't even a particularly bad nightmare. Maybe because they've been so tired from hiking so far.]

I can hardly blame you for it. It isn't as if sleeplessness is uncommon in this place for many of us.

[He kneels down, closer to their eye level even if they can hardly see one another in this low light.]

It must be so different from home...

[He pauses a moment. He's been feeling...well, down, recently. Feeling like they probably won't escape and the best he can hope for is keeping the people he cares about here from dying horribly.

But there's something he and Frisk have in common. Feeling like it's unlikely has not stopped him from looking. Though with Clayton's kidnapping has come a shift in immediate priority, he has every intention of looking for opportunities, whether he pursues them himself or directs someone else to them. Even if they're probably a dead end. He didn't find the Tower said to be a myth by nearly the whole region by giving up without trying. Even if his mood cratered he would eventually pick himself back up again, and even if his own psyche and what he will learn is called MN poisoning are combined against him on this one now, he has still felt worse.

Maybe if he was all alone he wouldn't be able to do it. Maybe the only thing giving him optimism is the fact that there are other people to fight for. Or maybe he really is just that determined. Either way, the point is:]

There might be a way to send us home out there. And if there is, I will do what I can to help find it.

I know there is. There's gotta be.

[Not that his words don't mean anything. They mean a lot. Because they aren't going to be able to find that way if they give up. And it almost sounds like Enoch has a Determination a lot like their own, in its own way.

They shuffle over to one of the countertops and haul themselves up, flipping around so they can sit on it, kicking their heels lightly.]

It sort of is different here. But it isn't too. [a beat as their foot taps the cover of the cupboard.] There was a place back home, called Snowdin. It looks a lot like it, sort of.

[Because of all the ice and snow and the extreme defecit of normal daylight, certainly. The ruined buildings were much more of a Nobinfury flavor, but more than just the over all feeling. When Frisk had been traveling through Snowdin, it hadn't felt much different than it felt to be here, yet. With things they didn't understand, troubles and dangers just trying to get back to the world they knew.

And new friends. That too.]

[Enoch looks up as the smaller shape in the darkness climbs up onto the counter, and he stands again, holding his cloak closed securely from the inside against the cold. He doesn't know if talking about home will make them feel better or worse, but having just met them, there's no way to tell. At least it doesn't seem to be bothering them.]

"Snowdin"...an appropriate-sounding name. I certainly hope it wasn't as desolate.

[The shake their head, a smile working its way onto their face. Talking about home and friends is - perhaps surprisingly to Enoch - easy.]

It was really bright and cheerful and everybody was friendly.

[Even at the end of their journey, just standing there and taking a look around was able to fill them with enough determination to Save. And it had definitely been one of the first places that really drove home how much different monsters - as a whole! - were different from what Frisk had been told by adults and stories.]

Two of my friends used to love there too, Papyrus and Sans.

[More family than friends, nowadays.]

Sans?

[He's never heard that name anywhere else, and a lot of names here tended towards being uncommon. He's rarely seen the same name on two different people here.]

He might...he might be here, in fact. Does he have a habit of making skeleton jokes?

[Frisk's head almost immediately jerks up.]

Were they really bad puns?

[The words come out a little bit louder than they meant to, if they wanted to avoid waking up anybody in the room next door. Almost immediately Frisk claps their hands over their mouth, and a single word can be heard muffled between them.]

Sorry.

[Mostly.]

Edited 2015-11-26 02:29 (UTC)

[Their reaction brings a brightness to Enoch's eyes, if his eyes are even visible in the darkness of the house. Helping reunite friends in this place was a reward all its own, especially on his way as he was to reunite with one of his own.]

I didn't particularly think so, but I haven't heard that many bad skeleton puns. I wouldn't know. I can't imagine that...combination of name and habit would be common. If you know it, surely it's the same Sans.

[Frisk nods delightedly. Yeah, truthfully, they don't really know who else it could be. It had to be Sans - had to be. Which meant they weren't alone.]

Sans is a skeleton. Well.. he's a skeleton monster. [Was there really a difference? Maybe not. Frisk shrugs to themselves before continuing.] So he really likes making skeleton jokes. [they grin.] It's tibia 'xpected.

[Ayyyyy?]

[Enoch chuckles, after a moment's pause to remember what a tibia was. He knows most of the major bones, in the limbs mostly, but it's not very relevant to his life, only things he's picked up in passing.]

So that's why he makes so many of them. I had guessed he was a gravedigger with a grim sense of humor.

[All the puns he knows don't work in English. He has to think up new ones. Otherwise, he'd throw one in there just to keep the mood light.]

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[log] More children for Team Babysitter [closed]

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Evening

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I know it's Quark's turn but given the question I hope this is okay?

That's fine! I was actually going to tell you to feel free and skip me for that one.

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Night

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Both! Evening here and Night to follow

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And Night

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wow this kind of turned into ~determination~ wordvomit I'm sorry

never be sorry omg

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