doesn't monster kid in the main game say that all the children wear striped clothes? if Chara and Asriel were 14 and 16 in the tapes, why were they still wearing those shirts? Snowdrake and the other forest teens aren't so I assume monsters are only supposed to wear them until 13.
That is up to interpretation. We personally consider anyone high school age or younger to still be a child, or at least, not an adult. (Does that make us sound old?) Also, keep in mind that the teenagers hanging around in Snowdin do not wear clothes, so whether they would wear stripes or not is up in the air.
Snipin’s a good job, mate! It’s challengin’ work, outta doors. I guarantee you’ll not go hungry - ‘Cause at the end of the day, long as there’s two people left on the planet, someone is gonna want someone dead.
anyone else find it weird how we’re just supposed to believe that a girl who’s spent the first seventeen years of her life in confinement and less than six months learning to fight/kill is supposed to be able to beat fully grown warriors who’ve been swinging swords since birth? no??? jUST ME??,???? ok cool
we’ll help you, my mother tells me, but you’ve got to want to help yourself too. my father, standing by my bed, saying, play the piano again for us, for your mind. i think of what it will mean to take medication: the white pill between my fingers like a secret, a pearl pressed flat on a train track. the cold water glass. my heart unfurling.
i dig through the dusty piano bench. pressed in a yellowed 60s copy of preparatory exercises are loose leaf pages, a secret. titled sebastian in someone else’s handwriting, scanned copy of notes drawn in pen on printed staff. sebastian, meaning: basket of marigolds, summer as rich as wine, brideshead, in the time before depression when my tongue was a moon crater still learning to how to taste the word man.
here, by the keys, my bones hum. melancholy is a night with no wind pressed up against my ribs. i hold on to my body as if it were its own secret, me, my blood, and all the words i cannot say. take my time with each note. my hands wreaths of rust, the dust spilling out of me. i think again of the pills, my heart prying itself open to reveal the real heart nestled inside, the red one, the one that beats.
summer is only a word, but it’s an orange word, a kind of burning. i play softly. there’s a ghost in the room somewhere. he might be sitting on the bench. he might be evaporating.
WELL YEAH i was born with a vagina and i have two useless pile of lumps on my chest which are really heavy and god gave me a feminine face and a feminine body and a feminine voice but theres Nothing I Can Do unless there’s a magical fairy who will grant my wishes