Mission Tale Remake: The Criminals of Dusk

Frisk: Like Father, Like Daughter

Now, I may or may not have said this . . . maybe not, but there should be another thing that should be said before we go along with any of this. 

My dad may have been a good dad, but he wasn't the best. Just like any other family known to man, we all have our flaws and my father was unfortunately the one to have one of the worst flaws of a father yet: drinking. 

Now, he never used to drink around me, neither did it happen ever since I was a child. It started when I was around seven years old and got worst once I turned thirteen. I have no clue what was the cause to that, maybe from my grandfather dying, maybe from the fact that during the time, Toriel and him got into a huge argument and she almost burned his skull to crisps. Did I know what caused the argument? Not at all, but I know for a fact that both of them went for each others throats, and for each others hearts. Maybe it was both of the situations that made my father's drinking problems worst, but for now, we will never know. 

You might be wondering: Frisk? Why can't you just ask Toriel?

Phew, that is a very good question. After my father's death, I was at the tender age of ten years old. I went through the five stages of grief of course, but I think that the process of me going towards the stage of acceptance was longer than what people was expecting for. Since I had no good sense, I started to steal, at the age of thirteen. Jewelry was the first, and the easiest, then there would be drugs, simple ones like Tylenol or Advil, then there would be bigger things, which is money. 

Now, that was when I was only thirteen, to this day, of being twenty-one and a half years old, where I steal people's money, their alcohol, and most importantly, their dignity!

Toriel knew from when she used to visit me back where I used to live in my old home that I used to steal from stores. At my young age, I was not as wise (Still not that wise now) to realize that Toriel was paying attention to every minor detail of the house, as if she was solving some sort of memory game. I mean, a whole child lived there, by herself, cold, alone, no one to talk to but only for occasions, I had to find something to do, you know?

Toriel started to get worried for when I stole alcohol at the age of seventeen, and we both got into a big argument, now I was not angry, I was more of being upset and sad about Toriel nagging me about 'how stealing is wrong', or, 'you are not doing good deeds', the argument then turned south when Toriel said that one phrase that made me snap.

"Frisk, please! What would your father think of this behavior?!." . . From then, my mind just went blank, and I charged at her. 

Now, I know what you all are thinking: Frisk! She's like ten times your size! How did you manage to beat her?!

Here's the thing; I didn't.

 I still currently have a big burn scar on my stomach from that night, Toriel never apologized, and I honestly didn't want to give her the chance. She threw her fireball at me, not intentionally at least. I was bleeding out, but I was so angry during the time that I didn't even want her to touch me. I screamed at her to get out, and tears fell from her eyes, guilty tears, as she walked out. She did call an ambulance when she left, and they came for me only minutes after Toriel left out of the house. As the police asked of what was the cause, I just made up a lame excuse of getting to close to the kitchen stove. 

After that event, we never bothered to talk to each other, well, Toriel tried, but I was so blinded by rage to the fact that I ignored every single one of her calls until she finally stopped calling. Just me being a stupid teenager, of course, but however, I was not completely alone. One day, I met this cool monster, he's was a yellow reptile-like monster with a striped sweater that had 'MK' printed on it. Their name was Monster Kid, but since they was getting older, they preferred that people would call them MK so that it wouldn't be awkward to see a grown monster have kid in their name. It was funny, every time I called them Monster Kid, they would snap and headbutt my stomach, but not enough to hurt me of course. I guess that was what I liked about MK, they never hurt me, well, that was until a few days ago when they ditched me to get beat up or get potentially killed by a lowlife gang.

Now, I know what you're thinking; why would MK help? There's many versus them!

Here's the thing, MK most defiently CAN fight AND defend for themself as they beat me in many fights as well as join me in gang fights that we used to do for almost YEARS. Yup, we ran a small fighting business where we would fight tough guys who betted money on us, if we were to beat them, we would get almost grands of money from them per fight. Me and MK used that as an advantage of being almost homeless, as we did fights where we would win almost EVERY TIME! They would back me up and it would be vice versa. But, I can't blame them, we were both almost blackout drunk that night, as he isn't the most aggressive when he is.

Yup, I drink, a lot. Like father, like daughter, right?

Anyways, me and MK were the best of the best drinking buddies, but it wasn't until that night where Grillby would say that enough drinks was enough as he kicked us out of his bar. Now with Grillby, he was like the uncle I have never had, other than my other uncles of course, as he used to take care of me on nights where my father was drunk. He would give me free food, free shelter, he was the best. . . he is still the best too, hell, if my dad was still alive, Grillby would have most definitely been his husband. After Toriel cut contact with my father after their argument, Grillby was there for them as they were already friends before, they would chat, laugh and even stay over their own homes at times (as me being a cockblocker of course ;D) as they bonded more and more over time. 

Once my father passed, Grillby lost his spark, Grillbys wasn't the same as he then became more stubborn and silent as he originally was. As of now, I was the only one who makes him happy, as every time I would walk into his bar to talk to him, his face would glow up, literally, the man is a fireball of a monster. 

But once I started drinking more and more, I guess it reminded him of my dad, as he would drive me back home after hours and would stay the night to make sure I sober up and get enough water for my hangovers. Now that I think about it, I should have gave Grillby more credit for staying with my bum ass. . I truly appreciate him for it.

"Frisk. . ."

My eyes fluttered open, where I am of what I think is the medical bay, as I look up to see Grillby looking down at me. His face seemed to be very dim, as he pulled me into a tight hug as I felt the warmness of his black leather jacket. 

"Grillbs? What are you doing here?" I croaked out, but I only then widened my eyes when I heard small sobs come out from Grillby.

"I'm so sorry, Frisk. I should have drove you home that night." 

"It's fine, Grillbs, I'm completely fi-"

Now, you're probably wondering, Frisk? Why did you stop mid sentence? And the answer to that is very much clear. 

My arm. Was open. With fucking yellow flowers. Sticking out of it.

Now, the patch of flowers isn't big, but it is still a hell of a concern as I screamed out of pure fear. Grillby shushed me quietly as I looked at him and stammered.

"G-Grillby- The fuck you mean ShUsH?!- My arm!-"

"We know, Frisk. . . I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news . . . but those men who jumped you are a part of the group that are poisoning people with the serum that is called 'Buttercups'. . ."

Oh.

Fucking.

Shit.

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