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</td><td>Waving Through A Window

Owl City
[♬]

We start with stars in our eyes
We start believing that we belong
But every sun doesn't rise
And no one tells you where you went wrong

Step out, step out of the sun
If you keep getting burned
Step out, step out of the sun
Because you've learned, because you've learned

On the outside, always looking in
Will I ever be more than I've always been?
'Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass
Waving through a window
I try to speak, but nobody can hear
So I wait around for an answer to appear
While I'm watch, watch, watching people pass
Waving through a window, oh
Can anybody see, is anybody waving?

When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around
Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?
When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around
Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?
Did I even make a sound?
Did I even make a sound?

It's like I never made a sound
Will I ever make a sound?</td></tr></tbody></table>

❤FRISK❤ There is a drive in a lost soul- in one that is searching for acceptance, companionship, belonging, whatever you want to call it. The slightest coincidence ignites a spark that one hopes will lead to something meaningful.

The silent protagonist of Undertale. Frisk's journey has yet to bring them to a clear end, both good and bad, and the recurring Neutral timelines and abandoned No Mercy runs have taken their toll on the child. Fast to think and faster still to internalize, Frisk doesn't seem to have a lot to say for themself- or anything at all, for that matter. Intent on listening, it's difficult to tell what the future holds for them- good, and bad.

---

❤ DETERMINATION reshapes, ❤ BRAVERY pushes through, ❤ JUSTICE challenges, ❤ KINDNESS reaches out, ❤ PATIENCE waits, ❤ INTEGRITY holds steady, ❤ PERSEVERANCE integrates.

Canon

Cross-canon

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With all the love in the world, from your rp family.

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</td><td>Be Yourself

Harrison Storm
[♬]

Be yourself when you're holding on
Be yourself one day
Be yourself when you're holding on
Be yourself one day

Take all the colours out and fire fight the winter storms
Be yourself, don't hide your name
If you're caught and bound, don't be afraid

Be yourself when you're holding on
Be yourself one day

Won't cry
Won't cry
Won't cry
Won't cry, cry
Won't cry

Take all the colours out and fire fight the winter storms
Be yourself, don't hide your name
If you're caught and bound, don't be afraid</td></tr></tbody></table>

FRISK

The silent protagonist of Undertale. Frisk's journey has yet to bring them to a clear end, both good and bad, and the recurring Neutral timelines and abandoned No Mercy runs have taken their toll on the child. Fast to think and faster still to internalize, Frisk doesn't seem to have a lot to say for themself- or anything at all, for that matter. Their time in Hadriel has been fraught with distress and loss, something that has only compounded on a much greater scale, the more chances they've had to gain. Recent events have seen Frisk and Chara attempt to erase themselves from existence, a plan that was foiled by multiple people- no small credit due to Sans. In the wake of watching that choice be ripped away from them, the next question speaks loud and clear. What are they supposed to do now?

Canon

Cross-canon

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PLAYER
Player name: Bird
Contact: TheBirdsAndBees | AIM: butnobodycame
Characters currently in-game: N/A

CHARACTER
Character Name: Frisk
Character Age: 10-ish
Canon: Undertale
Canon Point: Just after leaving the Ruins, on one of many Neutral runs

History: Ey bada bing.

It is important to note, however, that it is eternally questionable as to how many times Frisk has been through the same events over and over, as canonly Frisk can still be RESET even after facing the 'final boss' in an effort by the antagonist to seize the true power they desire. This is also strongly supported by the changes in dialogue that occur once a reset has taken place; from answers to questions being remembered by certain characters, to others noting a change in Frisk's reactions after their first 'run'.

To this end, I am seeking to take them from a series of neutral runs, with no knowledge of the True Pacifist or No Mercy Route endings.


Personality:.
Throughout the duration of Undertale's many timelines, one is generally left to interpret the silent protagonist as however they wish to; an extension of self that offers a more definitive style of immersion into a world full of quirky characters with multi-faceted personalities and a storyline that renders plenty of people to tears. It's only in the True Pacifist ending that one is given clear and simple statements to ensure the player knows; the character whose journey they've been following has a name and personality all of their own.

And whilst the name of Frisk is hardly something up for debate, the aspects to their character that carry them through the Underground are certainly up for some discussion. Frisk is definitively left as blank as possible, from the androgynous sprite, lack of backstory, and lack of voice throughout the game. What we do know of them relies on piecing together what can be found throughout the game that reflects the strengths in their characteristics.

One such aspect that cannot be denied is the fact that, despite everything, Frisk remains a child easy to relate to. Within game, particularly in the better of the Neutral runs, it's not unusual for characters to divest their own history with Frisk with little to no prompting at all, responding through the quieter actions that the child manages to portray. Whilst they do suffer from the dreaded Silent Protagonist, there are many indications that present a rather tongue in cheek humor, such as brazenly flirting with several of the main characters, to complimenting enemies in a rather unironic fashion. They can be extremely forward and direct when the occasion requires it, such as questioning Toriel on how to leave the ruins, and advising Asgore that he has already killed them before- even numerous times.

From the above, we can then understand that Frisk is a rather frank character when they choose to be so, and partially this could be conceived as being due to their age- they simply do as they see others do. Make jokes, be honest, and care for others; to the radical extent of refusing to FIGHT at all in some runs, simply because they've been told to "show a little MERCY, human."

In fact, Frisk appears to take in what others say to an almost frightening degree. From advice in regards to sparing others to the advice Sans gives them regarding blue attacks, Frisk does- as a child would do. What they're told. And with a very strong sense of determination, they stick to those initial values that others bestow upon them through the most extreme of situations. This could also be considered a double-edged sword, as what characters have to say when Frisk isn't being so merciful lends itself to being somewhat destructive.

 Their strong sense of determination is a defining trait that sticks with them regardless of interpretation. As much as this falls under a gimmick played upon by the game, Frisk is unerring no matter the run to return to the Surface world, whether they intend to bring anyone with them or not. When taken into consideration that over 24 endings exist within the canon, many of which can be achieved one after the other, this paints them in an unfaltering light which simply refuses to die. It's this determination that allows a small child to traverse dark, empty caverns alone, make friends with the very monsters who previously tried to harm them- or alternatively, lash out as they refuse to perish throughout every step of their journey... to the extent of cheating death itself time and time again.

Frisk may not be a character with much to say, but they are the embodiment of actions speaking louder than words. What they (and you, in turn) do throughout their journey has a vast impact on the world they're traversing, and can either draw an entire race to them, or send them running for the hills. Regardless of the timelines they've been through thus far, they continue to move on with the knowledge that they can and will have an impact, and are fully capable of being the change that they seek- for good or for worse.



Inventory:
+1 Stick. Its bark is worse than its bite.
+1 Bandage. It's already been used several times.
+1 Faded Ribbon. If you're cuter, monsters won't hit you as hard!
+1 Plastic Knife. A rarity these days.
+1 Slice of Butterscotch-cinnamon pie.
+3 Monster candies. You feel like the scum of the earth...
+The clothes on their back.


Abilities: 
As described within Chara's app, humans within Undertale possess a power known simply as Determination, which can be construed as an extremely strong will to live. In Frisk's case, this allows for them to create SAVE points; fragments in time that they can return to upon dying, or at will. They also retain their memories of any time that has been lost due to LOADing these points. 

A RESET is, for all intents and purposes, an even more concentrated version of the above. Everything rewinds to a predetermined point of time, though once again Frisk is capable of retaining their memories. This particular point in time is concrete and cannot be changed.

In Hadriel, the RESET ability would be nerfed completely. However I would like them to keep their SAVE ability, to an extent:

• SAVEs cannot be created at will; Frisk must be feeling Determined to cause one to come into being.
• In situations where Frisk uses their SAVE, the only thing that rewinds is their body; in short, they would return to the same physical state they were in at the time of the SAVE. It would, for all intents and purposes, work more as a self-healing function.
• They would not be capable of accessing their SAVE when unconscious or not in the right state of mind, and will still be subject to the game's policies on death should they fail to LOAD and subsequently die.

Flaws: The simple fact is that Frisk has done some rather bad things. Whether it be out of fear, anger, self-defense or simple curiosities' sake, they have killed multiple people, some better than others. Regardless as to whether or not the deaths they've caused weigh Frisk down, they're there, and just because most can't remember them, doesn't mean everyone forgets...

It can also be debated that, considering quite a few of the timelines, they have had thrust upon them a lot of responsibility that could be construed as intimidating or just straight out something they don't want. As the eighth Human to fall into the Underground, there's almost an obligation for them to either fall and give up their SOUL, or somehow find an alternative to break the barrier. Frisk can be written as being on the extreme of caring too much or not caring at all; or they may simply be human. Considering the scenario they're stuck in, they're as fallible as anyone else would be given constant attempts on their life and impossible choices to make.


SAMPLES
Action Log Sample: From the Test Drive Meme!

It's not a dirty apartment, but it's not the cleanest, either. Things are stacked in a...somewhat orderly fashion, the worst of the mess apparently the current fixation. The sink is stacked high with dishes. A few cupboards are open, revealing that every single one is empty.

The kitchen bench is laden with them all. Hard to say how long they've been there for. But they are getting cleaned now! Grit needs a stool to actually reach the sink, and it wobbles under their feet with every move they make. In the lounge, the television is on; booming out some cartoon show for background noise. The world outside the window is dark.

And that's it, for at least ten minutes. Just Grit, washing the dishes. Stacking them up on the drying rack, emptying the soapy water into the drain when it gets too dirty. Taking up a towel and getting those clean dishes back in the cupboards, just to have a little room to do some more.

A glance, at the clock on the wall. It's...eight-thirty.

And then it's nine-thirty.

Then it's eleven.

The place isn't exactly spotless by the time they're done, but it's a sight better than before. They tuck their stool under the table (so it's not a tripping hazard). They move into a tiny bedroom, for a few minutes, come back out in some baggy pjs. Toddle to the bathroom, brush their teeth. Get a glass of water, and set it on the little plastic coffee table in front of the couch.

They take another glance at the clock.

Eleven-thirty.

Grit falls asleep on the couch.
It's hard to tell if it's the next day, in this scene. Perhaps, it's just a day.

The sky is overcast when the child (are they the same age, here? Are they younger? It's so hard to tell) lets themself out of the apartment building. There's a tiny umbrella in their hand; rainbow colors obvious even if it's folded up.

They walk the several blocks necessary to get to school.

But at least they know the road rules.

As Grit walks up the steps to their classroom, the "camera" doesn't follow. It keeps panning over to the left, the color of the sky shifting just the right amount, rain falling, then clearing. Children begin to shout, the clamor of games being played. They come into sight as the building ends, rushing across a grassy field, playing what they will.

There's a mountain in the distance. Rather than join their peers in the games being played, Grit seems rather content to just sit and stare up at it, either completely unaware that a small group of girls are approaching them, or ignoring them completely.

They don't seem to like that.

"You know what they say about that mountain?" One of the kids pipes up (likely the leader, from the way she stands in the middle, chin raised in a challenging manner), folding their arms when Grit glances up at her. "People who go up Mount Ebott disappear."

....She doesn't continue until it's obvious there's not going to be a response.

"People take heaps of stuff up there, and it all disappears. Because that's what happens to stuff people don't want. It disappears."

Again. No response.

"Maybe your dad should take you up there, too."

....

Eventually, one of the other girls begins to complain about being bored- "They never say anything, lets go play."- and off they go. Back into the thick of children, trying to make the most of whatever time is left of their recess. And still, Grit doesn't move...though, perhaps, their fingers are curled a little tighter against their palms.

Their eyes flick to the kid's retreating backs.

Then back to the mountain.It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming.

It really is the perfect day to play a game of catch.

Grit's not playing catch, however. They're seated on a fallen tree trunk, a man crouched before them. There's...not much family resemblance, really. But they seem rather attentive to him all the same as he pats one of their knees, lips twitching into an awkward smile that's more than a little nervous.

It is not the smile of a man who doesn't understand he's doing wrong.

"Just a couple of minutes, sport. I'll be right over that way," A vague point in some direction. "And you just- wait here, alright? I'll be right back."

Grit looks at him. It's not the look of a child who doesn't understand what's happening. But still, they nod, and he lets out a slow breath as he stands, ruffling their hair in a distracted manner. He doesn't even look at them as he leaves.

He doesn't even walk in the direction he pointed.

The woods are quiet, but they're hardly dark and deep. Grit can still see the town from here, and the slope they're on does nothing to hide the way the ground continues to curve upwards, ending in a peak that's still a long ways away. They're as close to it as they are to the small city sprawled out in the distance, possibly.

...A few minutes pass. The sound of him walking away gets quieter, until it can't even be heard at all. It's late, but there's very little they can do about that. Grit's the only one there to hear themself speak.

"Okay."

They don't stay still for much longer. Pushing off their seat, Grit stumbles the landing, but they don't seem to notice. They look at the town.

And then they walk in the other direction.
It’s getting dark; so dark that they can hardly see the path in front of them, or the silhouettes of trees against the purple-black sky.

Regardless, they have two options, in a situation like this. To stop or keep going. And they keep going. Keep tripping on rocks and scuffing up their hands until they’re out of bandages with smiley faces on them to place over the new cuts, but still, Grit doesn't stop. Just pauses from time to time, to transfer a bandage from one part of their skin to another. It's uh...not all that hygienic, but it's something.

There’s a stitch in their side, but they can’t really do anything about that. They huff out their breaths and it hurts; and when the shadows seem to hide stuff that moves and doesn’t and does, they huff harder. Scared?

No.

Grit winds up sprawling when the path ahead of them abruptly levels out. More scratches and no band-aids... that’s okay. They lay their with their arms flat against the ground, and stare straight ahead, because the dark is never really as dark as it likes to think it is. Eventually, they’ll see something.

A mouth looms over them. It’s so high, so wide. Set into the ground in such a way that it looks like the mountain is trying to bite down, eat it’s way to the ground far below. To the little lights of a little town, twinkling in the distance. A cave. It’s a cave, way up here. All alone.

Slowly getting to their feet, they dust themselves off, gently petting one corner of the mouth as they approach. Grit doesn't have a torch, or any source of light at all, really, but they enter the cave anyway. One step at a time, waiting for the dark to stop pretending it’s darker than it actually is.

What little light that sense of nonsensical belief brings isn’t much. There’s nothing but shapes and walls and more shapes; a floor that sinks in and leaps in oddly frantic motions. They crouch down to feel them. Vines. Curious, they lean forward, feel a little more. Vines.

And a patch of darkness. Darker and darker still. If they squint, they can see the way it curves around in front of them, another gaping maw that disappears out of their poorly imagined field of vision.

A mountain with a mouth with a hole that went on forever.

Perhaps so much so, that anything falling into it would just fall forever too. It’s a thought that gives way to a moment of pause, an idea that sticks and stays when dusty fingers curl around a tiny stone, gently pitching it over the side.

 

It falls.

 

It falls and falls and falls, with no sound to make. No answer. Would it keep falling, forever? Would anybody know? Would anybody care?

Mount Ebott. The mountain where everything disappeared.

A tremulous breath escapes them. A sigh, perhaps; of pain, or regret, or relief. A mingling mixture of words and emotions that had escaped their capability to perceive so far, though they feel them anyway. They all fall away. The world falls away. It all falls away, disappearing, quiet.

They wipe clammy palms on their pants, thumbs idly tugging on the inside of their sleeves. In an almost idle fashion, they spread their arms.

They tilt. Ever so slowly, hair pitching forwards then back across their cheeks, the gentle build turning into a gusting rush as they let the mountain swallow them whole. Falling forever? It doesn’t sound so bad.

Mount Ebott. The mountain where everything disappeared.

 

The mountain people took things they didn’t want anymore.













And perhaps, if anyone sat there long in stunned silence long enough?

They'd get a sneak preview for the sequel.
 

Frisk | "Grit"
	Insert inspirational quote here (with a song linked) The smollest of smols. So smol it's rumored that the reason they got through the underground was due to the fact that all the monsters were bedazzled by their absolute smolness. Adopts almost freaking everyone it's insane and I want it to stop do you know how many fucking CR posts I have to make now? save_theworld

<center><table width="600" height="167" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><tbody><tr><td style="background: #373737; border-radius: 10px 10px 0 0; color: #eaeaea; font: bold italic 20px Georgia, Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; padding: 5px 7px;" colspan="2"><span style="float: left;">Frisk | "Grit"<br /></span></td></tr><tr><td style="background: #ededed; padding: 15px 0; text-align: center; vertical-align: middle; width: 125px;"><img alt="" src="http://v.dreamwidth.org/10053646/2456769" _fcksavedurl="http://v.dreamwidth.org/10053646/2456769" /></td><td style="background: #F4F4F4; border-left: 1px solid #f9f9f9; color: #6d6d6d; font: 11px/16px arial, sans-serif; padding: 5px 10px; vertical-align: top;"><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Insert inspirational quote here.</em></div><br />The smollest of smols. So smol it's rumored that the reason they got through the underground was due to the fact that all the monsters were bedazzled by their absolute smolness. Adopts almost freaking everyone it's insane and I want it to stop do you know how many fucking CR posts I have to make now?<br /><user name="save_theworld"> </user></td></tr></tbody></table></center>