You feel a breeze of humid air blow on your face. It’s warm compared to Snowdin.
Which means… Waterfall is up ahead! It’s the end to a long, cold, trek in the snow!
You let out a triumphant cry. Food, here you come!
Snakeface chuckled. Smiling, he placed a finger on his teeth. “Shh, wee bean. Yer yells might scare our prey.”
Hey there, plants can’t run.
You led him by the hand to a beautiful row of fruiting water sausages. You plucked one and waved it in front of Snakeface.
Behold, a catkin reed that tastes just like a real juicy sausage! After some ketchup at least. Either way, they’re miles better than to the ones that grow wild on the Surface.
He sniffed the morsel a few times. Then, he chomped half of it down in one bite.
You giggled. It’s scary yet cute.
“‘Tis good!” he exclaimed.
Right? Right? Let’s pluck a few and settle down.
“Mmm but fish be better. Ye gather. Ah hunt.”
Fishes? Right here?
“Aye. Gonna show ya. There be one right over there…”
He slipped past the water sausage shrubs and into one of the many slow-moving rivers, barely causing a ripple on the water surface.
You were amazed by the silence of his movements. Back in civilization, he’s quite a loud one. The laughing. Yelping. Occasional crashing. You could feel the energy coming from his voice. It’s a whole different story when he’s on the hunt.
You clutched the pot you ‘borrowed’ from the cabin. Because you’re a human, Snakeface insisted on disinfecting every drop of water you’d drink.
…It’s a shame that he’s so troubled in the head. Shouldn’t the lady and the Tsunderjudge have access to the best of the best treatment? Did they try and fail?
While you pondered, Gaelic resurfaced. He lifted a fresh catfish for you to see.
You gasped. That was fast! It’s a big one too. Alongside the sausages, it can feed two people.
After gathering some more fruit and filling the pot, you made camp at the driest spot you could find.
Snakeface’s fire starting skills still amazed you. He required only a few random pieces of wood. That’s about as caveman as it gets!
Gutted fish, roasting over the embers.
Water sausages, boiling in the water.
All you need now is a lot of salt. Except, you don’t have much. Oh well. The handful you salvaged from the cabin will do.
While the morsels cooked, Snakeface apologized to you. “Sorry. Fer the trouble.”
You tell him it’s alright. BUT! He gotta explain some stuff to you.
“I… may not be able.”
That’s fine. We’ll try to work it out.
First. Did the nightmare involve… the ‘bad touch’?
He cringed so, so hard. “No. No! Not gonna talk about it! Save yer ears.”
Gaelic, you told him, you come from a foster home. There were many kids from messed up backgrounds there. Even if the adults refuse to say a single word, everyone would gather around the older residents to get the latest scoop.
You don’t know the exact details, but you did understood that the bad touch could become a lifelong trauma.
So…?
“Mmgh… ‘Twas good at first. The touch. Then it turned bad. Worse than poison. One ah cannae stop drinking. A wasteful fool ah was.”
Uh, you don’t get it. Your brows scrunched hard.
“Have ye ever been naughty behind the backs o’ others?” He asked, “Like playing games past yer bedtime? Or stealing from the cookie jar?”
Aha! You understood that! Then consequences come around and the regret sinks in. Did you get that right?
He nodded many times.
Okay. Next question. Does he… really love Mezil and Lucidia? As in, romantic moochy moochy stuff? That car incident came to mind. Mom and Cenna freaked out in a comical way. Grillby too.
Snakeface blushed so hard, his skull might as well become a lightbulb.
You teased him further. Poke. Prod. Giggle. Gosh, this reminds you of Alphys so much.
“Argh, ya cheeky lil’ pup!” He complained. “Stop! Cease yer prattling this instant! Cor Blimey, this be the death o’ me.”
You snickered.
Lunch had finished cooking. Snakeface split the piping hot fish in half while you picked out the hot sausages with makeshift chopsticks.
Sprinkle a little bit of salt on the fish halves and… done! It’s time to eat.
Huff puff. You blew on the flesh to cool it down. Then, it’s straight into your mouth.
Your face turned weird. It’s… it’s somewhat muddy, yet so sweet and moist. Nice firm flesh too. If only it wasn’t this earthy.
You alternated the fish and water sausages to keep your taste balanced.
Gaelic couldn’t stop smiling at you. Hey, what’s so funny?
“M’lord struggled the same on his first camp,” he replied.
Only Tsunderjudge? What about the Fairy Godmother?
“Her father hunt and fish fer sport. She be more accustomed to the flavours o’ the wild. Still, she can be quite picky. Anything too intense may make her gag.”
Heh. A fussy eater and man with bowel issues. Snakeface had his work cut out for him alright.
He bowed down to you, saying: “Ah live to serve.”
Many people joked about this. But this guy? You bet he took it seriously. Word for word.
Once dinner passed, sobriety replaced leviety. The atmosphere dimmed just like the faint embers of burnt out coals.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Gaelic laid down on his side. With his sharp fingerbones, he doodled a pattern on the rocky ground.
“Lil’ bean,” he said. “Ya know that it be wrong being a third wheel to a married partner, aye?”
Whoa. Those were the most lucid words you’ve heard from Gaelic since the Sans fiasco!
Serious mode, on.
You nodded. Yes. Always the root of much drama on TV. But that’s because of jealousy, right? It’s always one partner loving someone else, dumping the one they married.
He shook his head. “Even if both have the heart, the bond is only fer two. Ah got no place in there. And… yet I only love them even more. So, so, much more.”
Why? This is getting confusing. Shouldn’t he get angry instead? Dejected or something? That’s how people responded in those dramas.
“Ya don’t understand, eh? Ah was a twisted snake. Slithery, slippery. Once upon a time me stalkings instilled fear in M’lady’s heart. The more she tried to hide, the more ah tried to chase.”
“Then the Grandmaster himself stopped me… with a chat and a bowl o’ potage. He be determined, refusing to let me leave until ah confessed me evil heart.”
Did the Grandmaster flip table? Maybe take out a shotgun?
“Haha! Nay, nay. He just told me that M’lady would detest me, and her husband would become me enemy forever.”
“O’ heavens, that struck fear in me more than anything in the world. It not even be their mettle in battle. ‘Twas the idea that I’d be hated. By the two who mattered most.”
He continued, “The Grandmaster, father o’ M’lady, told me that there are many other ways to love someone. It dinnae have to be the flames o’ shameful lust and passion.”
“Well meaning, he was. But this twisted fool still schemed to be at their side. Pondered and wrestled, ah did. Then out hatched a terrible idea.”
Gaelic ran a gentle touch down the curves of his modified face. From the forehead down to his cheekbone, to his chin, to his clavicles, to his ribs, to his pelvis.
…That’s some Mettaton-level display there.
“Me body be the only thing ah have. So ah sold meself as a slave. M’lord and M’lady. They bought me. Symbolic, mind ya! They not be degenerates. Since then, I served House Berendin as their personal knight.”
Wow. You didn’t expect to hear that kind of a tale in this era. Is this the 21st Century? You checked the invisible ‘watch’ on your arm to act out your perplexment.
Jokes aside, you don’t quite get why it’s so ‘terrible’.
Snakeface smiled at your innocence. “‘Twas a binding contract, carving meself into their lives without breaking their union. M’lady be too kind. Questions lingered, yet she still took me in.”
“How good they all were. They fixed me relationship with Mondie. They taught me real love that I once forgot. The Grandmaster read me Scripture: holy words that live and give life.”
If Gaelic mentioned any of these to you before the Crimson Hall, you would have doubted. Now you could believe it. The couple does seem to be the thoughtful type.
…Though the Tsunderjudge ought to turn down the heat. His glare is burning hot 24/7!
A forked tongue flicked at you a few times, licking the air.
“Sweet, sweet child. So pure, yet so dark.”
You uttered a nervous chuckle. His last statement caught you off guard. Then again, once upon a timeline you did murder everyone as a Persona.
Could it be he tried to taste your Determination?
You’re lucky that Snakeface didn’t hold it against you. He resumed scratching the pattern on the ground. It’s growing into an elaborate sprawl of vines.
“What a wretch am I,” he said. “E’en when they showed me Heaven, ah still descended to that pit o’ villainy. Why? Why did I do that? A spit in their faces! That alone should have me bones ripped joint to joint.”
“In the end, after fifteen stretched years, M’lord’s patience reached its limit. Wished it happen sooner. Never seen his anger so great.”
Uh. You thought Cenna won the award for ‘pushing all the berserk buttons on Tsunderjudge’.
Snakeface shook his head. “Nay, nay. She just stirred annoyance. Fer me, it be different. Blackest o’ black. He asked: ‘Are we not good enough for you?’.”
“‘Twas then I was exposed a traitor. Let them down, ah did. M’lord and M’lady couldn’t bear with me anymore. They sent me back to the Grandmaster, where I was held for penance.”
They had a jail? A dungeon?
“Nay. Just a simple room. No lock. But me Eye sealed. Usual tasks and freedom stripped from me: regulated to chores o’ civility. Sweep. Dust. Vacuum. Wash. Whatever Lord Berendin asked.”
…Demoted to a maid. That’s rough, Snakeface. Rough.
“Aye, aye. It ain’t the work that made me flinch. ‘Twas the disapproval. The loneliness. The shame.”
Yeah. You feel him. Getting punished with chores always sucks.
“Yet, this fool be none the wiser. One day ah received a letter from one o’ the ‘shameless’. Wished to discuss they did. To negotiate. Called me childish. Prodded me to grow up and settle the business alone.”
The mere mention stirred distress. He couldn’t maintain eye contact with you. His focus darted around, vigilant and almost paranoid.
“How horrible it was, this pitiful pride! Rallied by that letter, ah ran away from the safety o’ the manor. At that time, ah was determined to fix it once and fer all. Cut ties to the old foul ways. Devote meself to me masters till the end o’ days.”
Snakeface’s bones rattled. He dug his grip into the ground. Without warning, he clawed through his little doodle.
The abrupt destruction startled you.
“‘Twas then… it all went wrong.” He said, “She was with child. My child. Born to be their bargaining chip. They tried to make me choose: House Berendin, or them.”
“What did I choose? To take this unloved babe to House Berendin and never return! Me refusal destroyed fantasies. More broken hearts to me name.”
“A fight broke out. With me Eye sealed and a fragile life to protect, I was overpowered. Down, ah was. Drugged beyond measure. They tried to make me look like ah had fallen.”
T-the perpetrator had to be a human. Or many humans! Right? You can’t imagine monsters ever stooping this low.
Gaelic remained silent. It’s a grim sign. Darkness can claim anyone: human or monster.
How did he escape? Did the baby survive? Did they take it back?
“Heh. Me strength against poisons turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Though addled, ah made it back to the Berendin Manor. As for the babe. She…”
The man shook his head. “Ye ears. Best to spare them.”
You asked if the criminals were ever apprehended…
“Nay, they were not.”
WHAT?!? Why not??? The Tsunderjudge is the big boss, and his wife is a Chronographer. They could have easily identified all the culprits with that machine!
“‘Twas me just desserts.”
You don’t care about that. If they didn’t get caught, they could have ended up hurting others! Besides, they deserve to be punished!
He… kept glancing between you and the scratches on the floor.
“A Pure Red ya might be, yet yer heart leans to Justice. Colours M’lord shares with ye.”
You watched him push himself up to a seated position. Comments might need to wait. Gotta give him time to recompose himself. It’s… a painful subject.
“Ah served M’lord from his youth to his greying days. His light and darkness, ah had witnessed plenty. Have ya heard? ‘Justice twisted becomes vindication’.”
Yes, you have. Cenna explained such to you before.
“Aye, aye. Ye had a taste, but that cur Persona bear the brunt in full. M’lord strikes be swift, brutal, and true. No mercy for his enemies.”
“M’lady, kind she may be, she also be a mortal like ye and I. That cur’s cruelty broke her heart. Their shards turned to knives, fashioned into tools o’ death.”
“Together, no criminal could hide. The swift shot, the strong cut down. Terror clutched to those who heard their deeds.”
“Ah denied me case so they tread not this bloody path again.”
Ah… It was all to protect his beloved.
You can’t imagine Mezil and Lucidia took the news well. It must be frustrating to know a horrible truth, yet have your hands tied down over the fine details.
Talk about a difficult situation…
What about Snakeface? What does he think?
The thought alone made tears flow down his face.
“Why do they still love me?” he asked, “Is it selfish to wonder? They should have left me in the dust. Trapped, I was. Between life and death. Unable to help. Left them alone in their greatest need… their darkest hour.”
“M’lord’s damaged arm. That cur and his Hex. The splitting o’ alliances. The loss o’ yer parents, his most trusted Crimson Keepers. ‘Tis fault be mine! All of it!”
…Poor guy.
You opened your arms wide and asked if he wanted a hug.
Snakeface hesitated. But your Charisma points weren’t maxed out for nothing! You maintained your pose, while a confident spark gleamed in your eyes.
In the end, he crawled to you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to the best of your ability. Soothing pats worked wonders for you, so it should do the same for him.
There, there. It’s all in the past. You didn’t blame Sans for The Core Incident. Likewise, you won’t blame Gaelic for the big mess either.
Time-travellers unable to undo their personal tragedies… that’s some top tier irony right there.
By the time the emotions settled, the coals had gone cold. The water was shared between the two of you. Then, you washed the pot and resumed your journey.
Along the way…
“Sorry,” Snakeface said. “Fer the tears. Dinnae know what came over me.”
Heh, don’t worry about that. You have a knack for getting people to open up to you.
“A dangerous talent.” Gaelic replied, “Knowing one’s past carries a burden. ‘Tis the proof o’ trust. Even then, others may not disclose their life in full. I know ah didn’t.”
You scratched your cheek. Well, you didn’t share your foster-home days with anyone either. Or heck, you didn’t even tell Snakeface about your Underground adventure! Point being, it’s up to him to divulge or not.
It’s nice to hear him chuckle, even if it’s a soft one.
“Wee bean,” he said. “When the day arrives, M’lord must share ye a dark secret. Wrath might stir, but I beg ye to grant mercy. ‘Twas a hard decision to make. Harder still to do.”
…Does it have something to do with the giant swarm of butterflies? Because, that was quite the ominous sign of statistical hacking.
Snakeface looked back at you with a sad smile. “As the saying goes: the road to hell be paved with good intentions.”
You grimaced.
That’s going to be ‘interesting’…
Oh well. For now, you just want to get back to the comforts of civilization.
You should be out of the Underground by evening. Just in time for dinner!