Mission Tale Remake: The Criminals of Dusk

Frisk: Partner?

WARNING!!!: LOTS OF ANGST AHEAD IM SO SORRY TToTT

'Sample 47-XQ: Also known as the 'Buttercup' serum, was a substance made by an unknown source that was made to solely kill whoever was to consume or touch the said liquid. The serum is deadly, as whoever was to touch or consume it would have abnormally growing of Ranunculus bulbosus over various parts of their body as the flower's vines would reach major organs such as the lungs, the heart and the brain which could lead to death. Ranunculus Bulbosus, also known St. Anthony's turnip, yet better known as bulbosus buttercups, are flowers of a bright yellow color, deeply divided, with three-lobed long-petioled basal leaves. The flowers are known as many symbols, of most would be of Happiness, joy, youth and purity. As of now, authorities are yet to find the suspects who were to give out those dangerous samples as they are to face serious consequences of their harmful actions to the city as well as the civilians who lost their lives.'

Now, I know what you're thinking: Frisk?! Don't you have that?! Aren't you going to die?!

Don't worry, I was thinking the same thing too. Fortunately, the said virus is not contagious, if someone was to touch me it wouldn't hurt them since I'm not holding the said serum in my hand. Science is a weird thing, but is also a life saver at the exact same time. 

Now, you probably don't remember, but back when I was in the hospital after that night, Asgore said a phase that you probably didn't catch nor understand . . 

"We think that those men who assaulted you have some connection towards the gangs who has given the town many abnormal poisonings, like the ones that have killed Mr. Gaster-"

With that phrase, you probably remember me trying to attack him, but failing miserably as I fell onto the floor unconscious. You might have been wondering: What killed him?, and to answer that is simple, he died to the Buttercups. 

"Daddy? You missed my big dance! You should have been there!"

Once I turned the age of ten, monsters and humans were so bonded, to the fact that monster and human families were mixed in, and me and my father were finally able to express out families freely without any side eyes or rude complaints of the monster trying to kidnap someone's human child. My father signed me up for this ballet program that I was very skeptical and anxious about at first, but after a few days, I came to make a lot of new friends and I started to improve of my beautiful ballet skills. After a week, came my first ever ballet recital, my father promise with all of him that he was going to be there as he even made a sign for me.

"You like this, Frisk? I made this sign just for you, sweetheart!"

"I love it! It's so much glitter!"

What I didn't know at the time, was that my father was sick. Very. Fucking. Sick. I noticed from him coughing and choking at times, and I would ask if he was alright, but he would shake it off, and would say

"Don't worry, honey! Just a small cold, that's all! Daddy's fine!"

He was lying, he even knew that, but I didn't. He wanted me to be happy, and not fearful for my own dad's health. As I went to my recitals, he never picked me up, I either walked back home or Uncle Papyrus would have anxiously picked me up during late nights when practice was extended. Every time I came back home, I would go down into our basement to see him working. He would type aggressively on his keyboard and would mumble under his breath. Every time I would ask if he was okay, he would say.

"I'm fine. Go to sleep."

Now, he said it in a tone where it gave me shivers down my spine. I guess he did that on purpose, as I would go upstairs as quick as possible and go straight to bed, just to see him with a smile on his face the day after, greeting me, taking me to school and ballet practice. But it was just something about him working endlessly at night that bothered me. When he was asleep, I would usually sneak down there without him knowing, and would see his messy office, filled with beer bottles and crumpled paper that was soaked in liquor. I never bothered to touch the beers, but only looked at the papers that he wrote, it wasn't any words that I could understand, as some weren't even words in general. It was some other language, not like English, not like Korean, not any other language out there. I guess he did that on purpose, I felt like he knew how naïve and curious I was as a little girl and would do almost anything to keep me safe from the dangers of this world.