solnet | [video;] let electric in again, again

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[video;] let electric in again, again

[The feed opens to the shaking close-up of a striped sweater. A few seconds in the picture steadies, the device apparently having been propped against something, and a pair of tanned hands withdraw along with the child they belong to. Frisk’s thin-mouthed visage fills the frame; a glint of determination hardens their eyes.]

[For those familiar with it, the backdrop of the room looks suspiciously like the one Sans resides in.]

[Wordlessly, Frisk reaches for something in their lap. It’s a spiral-bound notebook, and they make a show of licking their fingers and flipping it open with the grim gravitas of a scholar. A fist raises as they clear their throat. And then they begin reading.]

-

“Show me the stars.” My voice trembles between my fragile ribs. His deep eyes pierce through my eye sockets, as dark and vacuous as the void of space. All I can think about is how much I want him to fill the vacuum in myself. In my SOUL.

“I can do better than that,” Colin orates alluringly, and god, he has that crooked slant that gently lifts the sculpted corner of his mouth as if an angel itself is pulling it into a smile. Smug as hell, but damn if he doesn’t make it work. I almost miss the way his voice bubbles against my ribcage like the soothingly familiar H2CO3 → H2O + CO2 reaction. “I can take you out of this world. I can show you all the way to Neptune.”

His glimmering smile turns feral. He winks one luminous orb, and my bones nearly melt into goo. “And if you’re especially good… we might even get to explore its neighbor.”

-

Its neighbor? [Oops, out of character. Frisk shakes their head to dispel the confusion; looks over their shoulder, and hey, there’s a glimpse of another sweater-wearing child observing the proceedings. Frisk gestures towards the book with a shrug, as if to ask what the heck?]

[Their answer, if they get one, doesn’t impress. Frisk sighs and flips to the next page.]

I… took off one slipper, and as his large, firm hands pulled at the fleece of my jacket, I pressed the sole against… his… [Frisk trails off. Their eyes skip over the next few lines, and before long, their brows shoot clear up their forehead. The glimmer of their eyes is closer to thinly veiled disgust and panic now, and they flip hastily through the next few parts.]

[One page in particular seems to give them pause. A bit of color drains from their face.]

Clack… alack?

[.....]

[Frisk snaps the book shut. Their shoulders slope in a sigh. Without looking, they throw the book over their shoulder to Chara, who catches it one-handed and stands up. Frisk peers into the camera apologetically.]

I changed my mind.

[And with that, they spring to their feet with the exhaustion of an old, debilitated soul, trailing to the bed and pulling a pillow into their lap as they sullenly stare at the wall. Now it’s Chara who takes their spot in front of the feed.]

[And their smile, by comparison, is positively evil.]

Where were we?