Sans the Skeleton (
sansational) wrote in
castle_perrault2016-03-30 11:43 am
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But summer has to come to an end sometime
Ever since S-4 talked Sans into sharing a room with him and Sans-Serif, sleep really has come a little easier. Not much - he still has bad dreams, they all do. But every little bit helps, especially when help is within arm's reach instead of on the other side of a door. Ever since hearing from Tauriel that the two babybones are also still suffering from bad dreams, Sans has been trying to find ways to help. But it's a problem that's stymied him for years to the point of giving up, so privately, he doesn't hold out too much hope.
It's been a relatively ordinary night - he read them both their story, tucked them in, and then curled up on the other side of S-4 from where Sans-Serif lay. Sleep came as quickly as it ever did. But whatever dreams Sans had, they were chased immediately from his head by the agony that awoke him, accompanied by the sharp crack of bone.
The pain jolts him upright, his hands scrabbling all over himself, searching for signs of damage. They finally come to rest on his own skull, and realize that it hasn't broken. It's just...shifted.
"no..."
More cracks like breaking twigs and shattered branches echo throughout the room. His fingers start to sharpen, he can feel his ribs expanding, each one accompanied by a gasp and a cry of pain from the skeleton. His marrow is on fire and burning him up from the inside out and no no no he has to get out of here...
Eventually, Sans makes it into the woods. But all that really does is ensure that he has enough room to finish transforming. By rights, it probably only takes a few hours, just like last time. But it's painful enough to feel as though it takes a lifetime. All he can do is lay on the ground and whimper and twitch, or else drag himself along in a futile attempt to escape the pain. All he can do is wait for it to finish happening.
Useless regrets and pointless despair chase themselves around his increasingly malformed skull. it's not fair, everything was supposed to be okay now, i was trying to be better, i promise i was...
Until even that level of thought is beyond him and he's reduced to begging senselessly. make it stop, please make it stop, i don't want to do this anymore, i made a mistake, please, Gaster...
At one point, he hears a voice in his head - a delusion, or a memory. it sounds like Frisk's voice, except not like their voice at all. Too late. Too late.
The forest has a new inhabitant, the next morning. The giant monster is something like a bear and something like a horse with a skull that more closely resembles that of a wolf. It's too big to go that deep into the trees, but it creeps around the edges of things. It keeps its distance from the castle, it treads carefully around any flowerbeds, but it's big enough to be easily noticed from a distance. Mostly, it can be found curled up in an apparent attempt to sleep, wherever the ground is clear enough for it to find room. Though whenever anyone approaches, one eyesocket opens to reveal a glowing blue orb of light within, and the creature lets out a wary growl.
Otherwise, it can mostly be found trying to eat. The fruit trees in particular will find themselves frequently raided, with some of them picked entirely clean. Hopefully no one was in the mood for lemons this week. The creature barely has to stretch its neck to gobble fruit whole off the branches.
This puts it somewhat at odds with the local birds, but even the most ornery peacock will beat a retreat whenever the beast parts its jaws just enough to let blue light bloom between its fangs.
It's been a relatively ordinary night - he read them both their story, tucked them in, and then curled up on the other side of S-4 from where Sans-Serif lay. Sleep came as quickly as it ever did. But whatever dreams Sans had, they were chased immediately from his head by the agony that awoke him, accompanied by the sharp crack of bone.
The pain jolts him upright, his hands scrabbling all over himself, searching for signs of damage. They finally come to rest on his own skull, and realize that it hasn't broken. It's just...shifted.
"no..."
More cracks like breaking twigs and shattered branches echo throughout the room. His fingers start to sharpen, he can feel his ribs expanding, each one accompanied by a gasp and a cry of pain from the skeleton. His marrow is on fire and burning him up from the inside out and no no no he has to get out of here...
Eventually, Sans makes it into the woods. But all that really does is ensure that he has enough room to finish transforming. By rights, it probably only takes a few hours, just like last time. But it's painful enough to feel as though it takes a lifetime. All he can do is lay on the ground and whimper and twitch, or else drag himself along in a futile attempt to escape the pain. All he can do is wait for it to finish happening.
Useless regrets and pointless despair chase themselves around his increasingly malformed skull. it's not fair, everything was supposed to be okay now, i was trying to be better, i promise i was...
Until even that level of thought is beyond him and he's reduced to begging senselessly. make it stop, please make it stop, i don't want to do this anymore, i made a mistake, please, Gaster...
At one point, he hears a voice in his head - a delusion, or a memory. it sounds like Frisk's voice, except not like their voice at all. Too late. Too late.
The forest has a new inhabitant, the next morning. The giant monster is something like a bear and something like a horse with a skull that more closely resembles that of a wolf. It's too big to go that deep into the trees, but it creeps around the edges of things. It keeps its distance from the castle, it treads carefully around any flowerbeds, but it's big enough to be easily noticed from a distance. Mostly, it can be found curled up in an apparent attempt to sleep, wherever the ground is clear enough for it to find room. Though whenever anyone approaches, one eyesocket opens to reveal a glowing blue orb of light within, and the creature lets out a wary growl.
Otherwise, it can mostly be found trying to eat. The fruit trees in particular will find themselves frequently raided, with some of them picked entirely clean. Hopefully no one was in the mood for lemons this week. The creature barely has to stretch its neck to gobble fruit whole off the branches.
This puts it somewhat at odds with the local birds, but even the most ornery peacock will beat a retreat whenever the beast parts its jaws just enough to let blue light bloom between its fangs.
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She takes in a long breath. "Who did he say he was?"
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As soon as Frisk is out of hearing, she is going to have many words to share with Sans, and none of them will be kind.
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They whirl and walk towards the nearest inner window, glaring out as if they'll be able to spot Sans from so far away. (They can't, but it feels better than just standing and staring at Tauriel.)
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"He is foolish indeed if he thought this would not hurt you."
She steps toward Frisk. Her voice quiets. "I am sorry. I would have told you had I known."
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That reply works for both of her statements, really.
"Gonna visit him soon," they say, a little grimly.
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It is the least she can do.
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She'd probably be able to find Sans-dragon faster than them. But he might figure something's up if they're both going in at the same time--in fact, he probably will, since Tauriel already knew when they didn't. They can't be sure what they'll talk about, still upset enough it's hard to think that far, but they don't think they're going to want anybody in earshot. They like talking in private.
"...'s okay. Think I can find him. He's pretty big."
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She wishes to speak with Sans, but first she must be sure: "Shall I stay with you, Frisk?"
Frisk has already been abandoned once this week. She will not do the same.
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"...no? It's okay." They don't understand why she thinks she needs to.
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She hopes Frisk is not trying to be "strong," for that would be troubling indeed.
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She tries something else: "Will you not come sit with me for a time?"
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"'F you want." Hopefully nothing will happen to Sans in the meantime. They don't know if that's a possibility or not.
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...Now she must consider what to do next. Ai, but she did not think this through.
"Shall we visit Grune's garden? It would be pleasing to sit among the flowers."
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But they'll be distracted the entire time. She might need to talk more than once for Frisk to even hear her.
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He's stretched out fully, his eyesockets closed and his tail flicking idly at whatever phantoms are chasing themselves through his dreams. The snoring that rumbles in his ribcage is keeping birds from bothering the blossoms, at least.
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Blast Sans! She had wanted to give Frisk a moment of peace, and now he must take even that from them.
Her attempts to speak fall to nothing. She will let Frisk find Sans on their own time.
not BLAST sans, BLASTER sans!
Tauriel will definitely be able to tell when they do, since their footsteps in the grass and flowers go silent as they stop dead.
And then they turn and head directly towards him, not stopping until they're standing barely a foot in front of his nose.
...
...
...
...
"Sans."
And his nap spots are currently limited
The creature half-opens its eyesockets and...then they fly open wide as it realizes just what it's looking at. There is a tiny human standing in front of its face. Close enough that it almost has to cross its eyelights to keep them properly in sight. How did they sneak up on it?
The monster half-rises into a crouch, its claws digging into the ground, moving far more quickly than something that size really has a right to. If it had ears, they would be plastered flat against its head. As it is, it just lets out a soft growl that's equal parts surprised and warning, before it takes a step back. Only then does it feel safe enough to bother trying to understand what had been said, only then does it take a second look and realize that this isn't just a human, this is...
"...Frisk?"
Did Frisk just...call him by name?
Then Sans looks up further, and sees Tauriel standing there. Half-asleep and half-lucid, it still doesn't take a quantum physicist to start putting pieces together. At the least, it's certainly easy enough to see that she does not look pleased. He seems to wilt a little from his previously wary stance, trying to look as nonthreatening and non-bestial as possible.
Blast Blaster Sans, because dude, you are in So Much Trouble right now.
Her movements are very deliberate. She says nothing.
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They cross their arms in front of them and lean forward, until they're quite literally leaning on his face. Rude, maybe, but they're not feeling particularly polite right now.
"Yeah. 'M still just Frisk. And you're a science dragon now. And you didn't tell me."
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Tauriel is mad, and Frisk is mad, and Sans feels about three inches tall and he doesn't know why, at first, until it sinks in that Frisk hasn't just guessed that he's a Sans, they've figured out that he's their Sans. And it only takes another look at Tauriel's face to figure out how.
Fear he could understand, confusion, questions, but...why are they angry?
"Sorry," he says, and he sounds it, but he also sounds confused, lost. He lifts a shoulder in a close approximation to a shrug. "Hard to explain." Barely possible to explain when he can string a full sentence together, let alone now.
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