[After all- this place isn't real. A twisted illusion of their (and perhaps Frisk's, as well) mind, displaced into fragments of what it was they had been, once. Metaphorically.
A tsunami and a child's plaything, peering back through the mirror.
It's me, Chara.
There is no such thing as a fair FIGHT, these days. His only warning is the hand that whips round to pluck a blade from it's hiding place against their lower back- then Chara lashes out.]
no subject
[Chara smiles.]
Then there is no further need to speak.
[After all- this place isn't real. A twisted illusion of their (and perhaps Frisk's, as well) mind, displaced into fragments of what it was they had been, once. Metaphorically.
A tsunami and a child's plaything, peering back through the mirror.
It's me, Chara.
There is no such thing as a fair FIGHT, these days. His only warning is the hand that whips round to pluck a blade from it's hiding place against their lower back- then Chara lashes out.]