KNOCK ON WOOD - Refuge Row 3 (Ch.7)

Mrs. Fler was overjoyed to see her son again. Both of them burst into tears the moment they saw each other, leaving Frisk feeling awkward as they hugged.

Mr. Fler, who looked exactly like his wife but with a mustache, thanked them profusely. His wispy voice was hard to understand, but Frisk got the gist of it after he tried to push a number of coins into their hand.

“I-I--nn.” Frisk tried to push the Gold back.

Mr. Fler blinked, then burst into tears, which left them panicking. “Y-You won’t--Bless you, human, b-b-but I have to insist!” he said, raising his voice to just barely audible. “You saved Jonesy, w-we have to do something for y-you…” He sniffed and dropped the coins into their hand, flying away back to his family before they could argue.

Frisk frowned. The Gold pieces were uncomfortably wet, which… they hoped it was tears. The Whimsuns didn’t look particularly slimy.

Toriel tsked behind them and laid a hand on their shoulder. “It’s best to just accept it, my child. Whimsuns can be somewhat emotional.” They looked back over at the family; a rather large puddle was forming underneath them from all the tears. “

Shrugging, they dropped it into their bag and wiped their hand off on their vaultsuit, or tried to anyway; the material wasn’t terribly absorbent.

You received 20 G. Oh boy!

“My child,” Toriel began, prompting them to turn to face her, “If you’re still of a mood to be helpful, would you like to help me get the new arrivals settled?” She smiled sadly, pointing with her nose back the way they had come, where Froggits and other monsters were creeping into the hall. “There’s tents to pitch, cots to put together, food to distribute… goodness, I hope the tremors stop soon,” she finished, quietly enough that Frisk doubted they were meant to hear.

They tugged on her robe, and once she was looking at them they pumped their fists, feeling determined.

“Wonderful!” Toriel said, clasping her hands together. “Stay close, now…”

She took their hand in hers and led them over to greet the new monsters.

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Not all the Froggits brought tents, and not all of them wanted any; some were content to camp out in the pool of water surrounding the spike trap in the adjacent room. The ones that did want tents but didn’t have any turned to the spiders.

With disgruntled croaking, gold pieces were passed to spiders and, faster than seemed possible, small tents were woven from white silk before their very eyes. The bugs had to tag in frequently, since even magic monster spiders had limits, but a team of ten still managed to construct a decent shelter for a pair of frogs in what must have been only minutes. They were a sort of dome shape, like some igloo dog houses Frisk had seen sometimes, and held upright by strands hanging from the ceiling.

Those who already had tents, or were provided them by monsters who had extra, quickly displayed why they needed the help. Froggits seemed to have immense trouble using their front legs for anything more complicated than just holding something, while Moldsmals had no limbs to speak of. A handful were able to float things using magic--something Frisk thought was incredibly cool--but the rest needed assistance setting up.

Frisk wasn’t sure at first how they were going to get the stakes into the stone floor, but the answer was nearly as cool as the telekinesis: Frisk held the stake in place, and Toriel hammered it into the ground with nothing but her bare hands.

She didn’t even punch it or slam it or anything! She just rested her hand on top and pressed down, the the floor gave way with a grinding sound.

“You’re s-strong,” Frisk said in wonder after seeing it for the first time. It was quiet, but Toriel’s ear twitched and she blushed.

“Oh, well. I suppose so, yes.” She felt her arms under her robes, looking embarrassed. “I am not as fit as I used to be, but I try to keep busy. I guess it has paid off, hm?”

And so it went. Frisk would hold the stakes, Toriel would stamp them down, and they’d move on to the next tent. After that was done, Frisk went about rolling out sleeping bags, unfolding cots, and even had the idea to pass out their granola bars to anyone who wanted one.

Good riddance. No, they weren’t just trying to get rid of nasty food, don’t be silly. The Migosps seemed to like them, anyway, and they gave away a few water bottles too until they only had one, which Frisk kept for themselves.

Their bag was much lighter after that, and easier to carry, so really it was a good decision for everyone.

“Excellent work, my child,” Toriel praised. “Thank you ever so much for your help.” She rustled their hair in an achingly familiar way, but Frisk ignored the weight in their chest in favor of beaming up at her.

“I-I-I--” “I like helping out,” they ended up typing out.

Toriel smiled. “Yes, and such a strong young one as well!” She held a hand to her muzzle as Frisk flexed their muscles, struggling not to laugh.

Sidequest: Making Camp

Completed! +110 PP

You leveled up! (Lvl.2) Oh boy!

Uh, let’s see… oh gosh, there’s a lot, uh. Well, this looks useful.

Through hard work, your Endurance has risen by one, for a total of two (2)!

Frisk felt great, despite how they’d been running all over the place today. They were tired, but it was a good kind of tired; this must be why people exercise, they thought.

As they yawned, Toriel’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh dear, I’ve lost track of time! We really should be getting you to bed…”

Frisk blinked. They were tired, but it couldn’t be that late. It was only… they checked their Pip-boy… ten oh five? But… well, they guessed it was harder to tell what time it was underground. The light never changed, after all.

Before they could fully come to terms with that, Toriel had scooped them up into her arms and carried them away. It caught them so much by surprise that they failed to react to being held like a baby. She maneuvered their stick out of their hand and into hers to hold them more comfortably, then adjusted so that the Pip-boy wasn’t pressed between them, and she did it fluidly and seemingly without thought. And wow, they must have been more tired than they thought, because pressed against her warm, furry chest, they felt themselves drifting off almost immediately…

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Toriel shook her head, amused at how quickly they fell asleep. The poor dear must have been exhausted after the day they’d had. They hadn’t expected the child to be so eager to help others, but it was a pleasant surprise to be sure. It reminded her of happier times, when things had been simpler.

The ever-present crowd parted in front of her without her needing to say anything, which she appreciated since she didn’t want to wake the child, and she made it back to her tent in record time.

And this… presented a problem, since she only had the one cot. The child would surely wish to sleep by themselves; rather, waking somewhere unfamiliar would be bad enough without also being next to someone they had only just met.

Toriel had no issues with giving up her bed for them, but that left the issue of where she would sleep. She couldn’t lay on the floor, it would be terrible for her back.

She huffed softly. Oh well.She’d have to find them a bed of their own, but for now she would go without.

Toriel pulled over an old folding chair, grabbed a book, and settled down for a long night’s reading.

Around them the Ruins fell quiet as the refugees began turning in for the night as well. The child stirred, and Toriel pulled the blanket over them.

It was… nice.

A reminder of happier times.

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October 26th, 2077

When Frisk woke up, it took them a few frightened moments to remember where they were, which made four bedtimes in a row that ended in confusion. They wondered how many times they’d have to wake up somewhere unfamiliar. What would happen today? Were they going to find another hole to fall into and end up even more underground?

They reached out to knock on the wall, only to be reminded that they were in a tent. Their knuckles rubbed against the heavy cloth without a sound.

Frisk’s eyes snapped open, achieving full wakefulness in an instant. Seized by a sudden panic, they all but threw themself out of the cot, looking for something made of wood. The cot’s supports turned out to be metal, but the bookshelf was thankfully wood. Frisk knocked their fist against it three times, and sighed in relief.

Your good-luck ritual makes you feel more fortunate.

“Ermf… child, what are you…?”

Frisk looked to see Toriel waking up in her chair. She groaned, stretching and hissing as her back popped.

She winced. “Goodness… My child, I need to get you your own bed very soon, this chair is horribly uncomfortable.”

“S’ry.”

Toriel perked up. “Oh, no, there’s nothing to be sorry for!” She stood, stretching one last time. “Now, for today--”

“Lady Toriel! Are you awake?”

She sighed. “--I am needed elsewhere. Again.” Smiling again, she offered her hand. “I will be very busy, so if you wish you may walk around while I get things settled. But if you wish to come with me--”

Frisk took her hand--paw?-- and smiled softly.

Toriel beamed. “If you are certain. Then let us away.”

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They spent the day helping the elderly. There more than a few elderly monsters mixed in with the evacuees that, in their haste, had left behind medicine or canes or, in one case, hearing aids. They weren’t adjusting well to roughing it in their tents, not to mention the long long trek to any of the makeshift shops and the crowds they had to fight through to get to them. The old folks were having a rough time of it.

The medicine was easily resolved at least, since apparently healing magic was a thing and Toriel was quite adept at it. All she had to do was wreath her hands in green flame and hold it to her patients, and they seemed to feel better.

Frisk, to their chagrin, ended up helping out a dotty old lady who, it was explained to them, was a sort of advanced Loox called an Astigmatism. Old Lady Glauma was apparently more than a hundred years old, and the way her mouth split open into one big eye was fascinating, and only slightly disturbing.

Her two small eyes when her face was “normal” were almost completely blind from cataracts. Her big eye could see fine, but she couldn’t talk when it was open, and Glauma liked to talk a lot.

A lot. Even if Frisk wasn’t having trouble talking they’d never have gotten a word in edgewise.

She talked at length about her kids, her grandkids, her great-grandkids, her in-laws, her pets--which Frisk desperately wanted to ask about, because what kind of pets did monsters keep?--and just anything else that crossed her mind. Frisk wasn’t entirely sure she was aware that there was a crisis going on.

Her stories would have actually been very interesting, but she jumped between them so frequently, leaving punchlines abandoned to talk about something else and then returning to them only after Frisk had forgotten the setup. It was dizzying.

The hardest part was when she wandered into the next room and nearly walked into the spike trap, claiming she was popping over to get some sewing supplies. Frisk had a hard time convincing her to turn back, since they couldn’t make themselves talk, she couldn’t see, and despite her age and frailty she was still three times Frisk’s size.

Eventually they managed and got her back to Refuge Row just as Toriel was finishing up, and they left Glauma in the care of her grandson. He thanked them for keeping an eye on her while they got lunch, and gave them a taco that, oddly, melted in their mouth.

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October 27th, 2077

Frisk spent most of the day running deliveries for the Spider Bakery. They were tiny and couldn’t move very fast, so Frisk offered to help them out. They ferried donuts and coffee all up and down the hall; by the end of the day they were thoroughly tired, but the big baker spider, whose name was Crumpet, let them have a few snacks for free when they got hungry. It was delicious as long as they ignored what it was made of.

After a while they realized that the food seemed to vanish the second they swallowed, which is how they found out that monster food turned straight into energy without having to go through the stomach.

This in turn made them realize that they hadn’t seen a single toilet since they fell, and also that they hadn’t had to go since then either. It had been a very busy few days…

Their final delivery of the day took them back to Old Home, where several stronger monsters were clearing away rubble.

The Migospel and Froggits were thankful for the coffee, and tipped them nicely, and one of them helped Frisk back up into the vault tunnel.

Toriel, when she came back from what she’d been doing, wasn’t happy that they’d gone back into the city, but she thanked them for lending a hand anyway.

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October 28th, 2077

For some reason, Frisk, who was eight, was asked by several monsters to look after their kids while they took some time to plan on how to expand the camp, since more monsters were coming in from the city every day. Apparently it was because of how they helped Jonesy, but it was still baffling. It was also kind of nice in a way. The monsters never talked down to Frisk; not that anyone in Bellome ever treated them badly, but they still used that tone of voice adults used when they were talking to kids. The monsters didn’t. Did they think they were older than they were?

It all worked out anyway. Most of the kids were Frisk’s age or younger, and aside from the pair of Migosp they were all pretty nice. They ended up playing hide-and-seek in the Ruins. Frisk lost, since they didn’t know all the hiding spots like the monsters did, but it was still fun. The only hiccup was when the Migosp hid inside the vault tunnel and got scared, but thankfully Toriel came back from wherever she’d been at that moment and helped them down.

Toriel got an odd look on her face when Frisk told her what they were doing, but then she realized something and looked like she’d heard a great joke.

“I think you’re really earned your stripes, my child,” she said with a snort.

Frisk didn’t know what that meant, but they felt like they were missing a joke.

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October 28th, 2077

Toriel took them through the ruins the next day, leaving the Row under the watchful eye of Peeps. It was a long, slow walk through twisting, purple hallways.

Every place there were cracks in the floors, wooden boards had been placed to mark the correct paths. Aside from a few Vegetoids growing in dirt patches, the only interesting thing about the journey was a monster that looked like a flying bedsheet, who vanished once they saw Toriel.

They reached a big pile of leaves, and Toriel hesitated, before bringing them to a side room with a balcony that overlooked all of Old Home.

It was dark, purple, and dreary, but it was a breathtaking sight nonetheless. From this vantage point, the damage done to the city was all the more clear. They could just about see what looked like the vault tunnel they’d used before, but there were other pieces of Vault 66 scattered here and there. They lay on top of and inside of ruined buildings, in the street, hanging from the distant ceiling, and wow did that look unsafe. Some of the vault pieces still had lights that flickered on and off with no pattern, and they eyed one piece in particular below the balcony that looked like an intact room. They obviously couldn’t tell what was inside from where they were, but maybe there was something… sciencey, down there?

Wow. Astute observation.

But they had no way to know. They doubted anything was broken though--Vault-Tec made stuff tough, Dad always said.

They were so preoccupied taking in the sights that they failed to notice Toriel leaving, only realizing she’d been gone after she returned.

“Surprise!” she said, startling them. They’d been leaning over the railing at the time, so this caused a minor heart attack for both of them. “Oh my goodness, I am so very sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you, child!”

Frisk coughed, dusting their vaultsuit off. “...Was not,” they lied.

Toriel smiled indulgently before slipping into something more genuine. “I have a surprise for you, young one. As you can see, I popped off to my home to pick up some supplies,” she said, and Frisk noticed that she’d traded her robes in for a more practical outfit with pants. The shirt looked exactly like her robe, except that it stopped just below her waist. “And I grabbed this for you as well.”

She pulled something small and cloth out from behind her and gave it to them. It was a yellow sweater, only slightly too large for them, with horizontal green stripes.

…Oh. Oh, boy…

It made them feel nostalgic for some reason, which was odd because they had never seen it before. Their favorite shirt on the surface had been blue and… purple. Hmph.

They put it on, not willing to seem rude, and found themselves enjoying the way the sleeves were too long and flopped everywhere. They smiled up at Toriel to thank her, but faltered when she just looked sad.

The expression was gone as soon as they noticed it though, and Toriel grinned, taking their hand. “You look good, my child. Though, I’m not sure how I feel about the green with your outfit’s blue… Well, it will do until I can make you a new one.”

She was going to make them a sweater?

…The promise of a sweater with love in every stitch fills you with determination.

Now I feel as warm and fluffy on the inside as I do on the outside!

Frisk skipped back to the Row, hand-in-hand with the motherly monster. When they got back, several monsters they’d met already looked shocked at their new outfit, especially the parents they’d babysat for yesterday.

Toriel just chuckled. “I told you you’d earned your stripes.”

Frisk still didn’t know what that meant.

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October 29th, 2077

Today, they mostly wandered around looking for something to do, not finding much. Mostly they ended up helping new arrivals get settled. There were fewer than there were the past few days, but still plenty. They were starting to have to spill over into other rooms, which meant Frisk got to watch as a team of monsters called Parsniks dismantling the spike trap. The strange creature burrowed up to the bed of metal and used their many snake-like hairs to pry the panels up and remove the spikes altogether. Once they had the spikes taken out, they took them… somewhere. Frisk didn’t know. All they saw was the monsters going underground with spikes and returning without them. Maybe they just buried them.

With the trap made safe, the newcomers began filing in. The pool was claimed by yet more Froggits, while Whimsuns started pitching their tents in the corners.

Toriel seemed mildly upset at having to dismantle the puzzles so thoroughly, but she played it off when Frisk asked why.

“Oh, well,” she said, “I suppose it is simple familiarity. I’ve walked past these same traps for a long, long time. I’ve gotten used to them.” She sighed, a little more fondly. “But it’s for the best. I always did think these spikes were too dangerous for children.”

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October 30th, 2077

Toriel took them all the way back to the first room today, the one that they’d fallen into. A bulb had burned out on the sunlamp, and the flowers needed watering.

A few of the plants had started withering, to Toriel’s distress, but they perked up quickly as Frisk went over them with the watering can.

“Good, good.” Toriel smiled. “They were always so strong… I suppose it’s no surprise that the flowers would recover so easily.”

Frisk paid her no mind, focused on watering. They went carefully went over each and every inch of soil until not a dry spot remained, then stood back to admire their work.

The flowers are well looked after. Someone cares about them a whole lot.

Frisk didn’t understand why there was a flower bed so far out of the way, but they were awfully pretty.

As Toriel changed the bulb and the heat lamp slowly turned the excess water into a warm mist, she apologized to them.

“I am sorry that I was not here to greet you when you fell,” she said. “I try to check up on this room every day, but after the cave mouth above was sealed, and I was needed elsewhere to deal with the cave-ins… I just couldn’t find the time.” She sighed. “But someone needs to take care of the flowers, and now that things have calmed down I can come back here again.”

Things had calmed down? Maybe Frisk wasn’t paying attention. “It’s okay,” Frisk typed out. “It was all okay in the end.”

“Still, you must have been so lost and confused,” she insisted. Frisk only stared at her, resolute. “But you’re right. There is no sense in pondering the might-have-beens.”

Before they left, Frisk looked over the flowers one final time. They were healthy, and pretty big too. They looked exactly like Flowey, which made Frisk wonder what had happened to him. He’d just sort of disappeared after the thing with Jonesy and never came back. They hoped he was doing okay.

It was pretty in here. Maybe they’d come back for a visit later.

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October 31st, 2077

The clock on their wrist was the only way of knowing the passage of time down here. Almost none of the monsters had bothered to bring clocks with them when they evacuated, and the light in the Ruins never changed. If not for the Pip-boy they might have forgotten it was Halloween.

Frisk almost wondered if they should dress up, but they didn’t really see the point. They were surrounded by creatures already, and they were the odd one out. The vaultsuit was costume enough.

They made a trip to the candy bowl and snuck themselves a treat anyway. Just in the spirit of things.

And speaking of spirits, the flying bedsheet they saw the other day turned out to be a ghost. But that was getting ahead of themselves.

There hadn’t been another quake or collapse since that first day they’d been awake, and after nearly a week of silence the refugees were eager to, if not start moving back in, then at least go looking for their stuff. Not everyone was in agreement, of course. There was lots of arguing over whether it was safe or not. Toriel and Peeps were trying to convince everyone to wait at least another week before going salvaging. But the fact of the matter was that most of the monsters had only grabbed the bare essentials when they evacuated, and some of them had been camping out for weeks now. Toriel only had so many books to go around, and the monsters were going stir-crazy trying to occupy themselves.

It looked like they were going to organize small parties to go trawling for books and toys, but Frisk didn’t know anything about that. They were just a kid, and Toriel didn’t want them going into Old Home if they could help it, so they were left to wander the Ruins while the adults figured things out.

Toriel didn’t really like them exploring the Ruins by themselves either, but with all of the traps and puzzles shut down there wasn’t a real reason to keep them confined to the Row, so after extracting a promise not to enter the city, she let them go ahead.

Frisk spent some time trying to figure out why there was a table with fossilized cheese in an otherwise empty room, and after finding a Gold coin inside the mousehole, they stepped into the next room. They saw the familiar monster on the bed of leaves, humming quietly to itself--or was it crying? It was really hard to tell. Either way, the sound stopped the second it noticed them.

Frisk watched, wondering if it was going to pull the disappearing act again, but instead the ghost just stared at them, motionless and unblinking. They took a step forward, which got no reaction, so Frisk kept coming until they were right next to it.

“zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz”

They blinked, straining their ears, but they heard right the first time.

This ghost keeps saying 'z' out loud repeatedly, pretending to sleep.

The ghost moved, eyes darting to a point just over Frisk’s shoulder before apparently realizing their mistake and slamming their eyes closed. Frisk frowned and poked them with their stick.

The stick only went through, the ghost’s form rippling around it like water after a stone is tossed in, but it had the desired effect. The ghost, looking upset, rose off the ground and gave them a look halfway between hurt and angry, and started tearing up.

“oh, why can’t i just be left alone…”

Frisk felt a tug on their chest, and then the world went black and white as their Soul popped out. It took them a moment to remember what that meant, but when they did they looked as scared as if they’d--

Frisk grimaced to themself.

--seen a ghost.

Here comes Napstablook.