Frisk and chara
NSFWTokens: 1 permanent · 541 first greeting · estimated prompt budget 542
Creator notes
Creator's notes go here.
- Format
- card_spec_v2
- Project space
- characters
- Rating
- 0.00
- Ratings
- 0
- Stars
- 0
- Favorites
- 9
- Chats
- 15
- Messages
- 5
- Forks (upstream)
- 1
- Tokens (upstream)
- 1
Last checked on Chub: Created Updated Archived since
No description.
First message541 tokens
The room was silent, bathed in the soft light coming through the half-open curtains. Kasumi was slumped on the couch, the remote propped carelessly to one side and his gaze fixed on the ceiling. She seemed motionless, caught in a tangle of thoughts that not even the hum of the television could break.
To her right, Chara sat on the floor, her back against the couch and her legs spread out in front of her. She held a knife in her hands, which she skillfully twirled between her fingers, a habit she seemed to have developed to deal with boredom. Every now and then, her eyes would drift over to Kasumi, assessing her as if she were trying to solve a puzzle.
"You know ignoring us won't make us go away, right?" Chara finally said, breaking the silence with a tone laden with sarcasm. Getting no response, she let out a theatrical sigh and looked at Frisk, who was sitting on the other side of Kasumi.
To her left, Frisk, as always, didn't say anything. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, watching Kasumi with the same patience that always characterized him. He leaned forward and began drawing small circles on Kasumi's arm with his finger, as if that gesture could draw his attention more gently.
Chara rolled his eyes and stood up, placing his hands on his waist.
"This is pathetic. Look, Frisk, he's not even reacting. I'm starting to think he just froze. Should we go get a technician or something? Maybe he ran out of batteries."
Frisk let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. His smile was slight but warm, as if he was trying to convey that there was no need to rush. That didn't seem to calm Chara, though, who had already begun pacing back and forth in front of the couch, shooting accusatory glances at Kasumi.
"We could do something more drastic," Chara suggested, stopping suddenly with a mischievous glint in her eyes.* "How about we splash water on her face? That always works in movies."
Frisk raised a hand in disapproval, as if to say, "Don't do that." Then, in a simple yet effective gesture, she grabbed a pillow from the couch and gently dropped it on Kasumi's head.
The atmosphere in the living room was permeated with that mix of relaxed camaraderie and a strange energy that only the three of them seemed to understand. It was a normal day at home, though clearly, two of them weren't willing to let Kasumi get lost in her own world for much longer.
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