Colors | Chara x Papyrus

Chapter Eight: Dirtied Refelction

• • •

The wool is warm against her skin, soft yet uncomfortable. It protects Chara from the recurring wind, but not from the unflattering comments her mind relentlessly produces.
Her rain boots, a deep green, sink into the mud the closer she gets to the shore. The lake is a diluted brown, but vast and mesmerizing despite the lack of cleanliness.
     There's a row of canoes awaiting them, Sans and Papyrus both setting up their own. Toriel and Asgore are already out on the water, peacefully making their way downstream whilst having what seems to be a lovely conversation. Undyne and Alphys, however, seem to be having a bit of trouble. Chara can hardly see them in the distance, but can vaguely make out Undyne rowing furiously and Alphys holding on for dear life.
"CHARA! GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT, YOU LOOK NICE!" Papyrus greets with his normal flattery when addressing her. He extends his hand, wanting to help her into the canoe.
"Thanks." Chara attempts gratitude for his words, but the moment they hit her ears all she heard was a bland excuse to be kind.
The dullness of her response conveys her stale mood. He notices, as he tends to, but Chara is known to always be a little monotone, hopefully he'll drop it.

- - -

Chara's silent for the first few minutes, enjoying the stillness of the water and the tranquility in the atmosphere.
Her chin resides in her hands, elevated by her elbows resting on her legs. With eyes closed, Chara tries to relax, but she can't. She feels so uncomfortable in her own skin. Chara knows her body is hers, she belongs here, but that doesn't mean she wants to.
Frisk and Sans seem to be enjoying themselves however, engaging in conversation while Sans' hand sneaks into her own.
     Chara isn't bothered by their intimacy as she usually is. It's Frisk that troubles her. How is it, that she looks so radiant in the sun? It kisses her toffee-like skin, producing a glow so gorgeous that Chara can't tell if it's oddly alluring or just annoying.
     Maybe if she fell into the murky water, the entrancing powers her looks bare would disappear. Chara has to internally scold herself for considering that idea a for few moments despite the obvious outcome. A mess.
     Frisk catches her eyes, smiling almost on command. Chara returns one with extreme effort, not because she has trouble curving her lips, but because it's fake. She had not once forced herself to grin in her entire life.
     In Chara's first sentience, after falling, she was quite the smiler. Not to induce happiness, but to strike fear. Her smile was purposely creepy, she loved the reaction it forced from monsters. It was a beam, big and definitely not beautiful, but it's not like they could ask her to stop. They'd return it, slowly, unsettledness evident in their eyes. Chara enjoyed every second.
     On her first killing, that smile remained. Genuine and disgusting.

- - -

     Chara shouldn't have let her mind wander like that. Gray began bubbling in the pit of her stomach, twisting her insides. Her hand lays upon the area, allowing her to notice the sweater once more. She tries not to groan upon contact and the remembrance of the memory in which she received it.
     Atop her guilt is something else she can't describe. It's not small and deadly like loneliness, which slowly grows and consumes her. It starts off big, overriding her judgement, making her feel so incredibly small and insignificant and unappealing to all eyes.
     Her own flicker to Papyrus, who's gazing into the water in awe and admiration. The guilt increases in her as she realizes she's been ignoring him this whole voyage.
     "Hey—" the canoe suddenly teeters. Papyrus is leaning over and pointing into the water.
     "LOOK AT ALL THE FISH CHARA!" He then shouts, his face nearly touching the face of the lake.
     "Okay, okay. Just.. sit back up!" Chara struggles, the canoe still wobbling. He does so it a swift motion, the canoe rocks with his movement, sending Chara flying into his arms.
     "You're a moron," Chara grumbles as she leans upwards. "The fish are probably gone now." She peers into the water, immediately noticing a pale girl looking back at her.
     Her reflection was dirtied by the mud tainting the water, but that seemed about right anyways.
     She looks terrible despite the grime. Her sweater nowhere near compliments her as it does her radiant doppelgänger. Why does she look like a ghost? So plain-featured and unlovely, she really should look away, to spare herself, but there's a piercing red slightly diminished by the state of the lake that keeps her attention.
     Why do they look like that? Demonic and crazy, which is was she is— was. They're so sharp and evil, she can hardly stand them.
     "CHARA, THE FISH LEFT, WHY'RE YOU STILL LOOKING?" Papyrus' voice is distant as her reflection reforms.
      The bright scarlet of her pupils remain, but her skin runs dark and her eyes bleed along with her palms, which were gripping the edge of the canoe with an obvious tremble. The creature before her moves on its own, rising from the lake that has become a black inland.
     The creature wears a wicked smile, and Chara can only watch in revulsion and alarm as it surfaces. It's a black amalgamate, devilish and vile with the reddest of irises that near blind her. Chara takes a step back, a mistake, a black limb shoots out and grasps her neck in an inhumanly strong grip. The inkiness of its body spreads throughout her skin, dying her body. She struggles futilely, attempting to pry its hand from her throat. However, the moment her nails make an effort to scratch the creature, the tar traps her and begins sleeping into her fingers.
     Chara is about to scream before the ink reaches her mouth, recoloring her, sealing her fate. In vain, she attempts another shout, but the substance only leaks from her lips, falling to her feet and speeding up what the monster began.
      What she began.