mercybutton: ((-_-૮))
[personal profile] mercybutton posting in [community profile] castle_perrault
Nooooo.

[aaaaaa. uuuuugh. What bothers them most right now isn't that they're suddenly someplace they don't know and thus are not at home, it's that they're suddenly someplace they don't know and thus is going to bump into literally Every Single Obstruction that exists here. Honestly, they'd be more concerned about being displaced from their family if they weren't annoyed about the prospect of having to get used to a possibly enormous place. Nobody better move the furniture around.

After a solid minute of laying on the ground they sit up. Feels like grass, sounds like water is rushing nearby. A park? Frisk stands up and starts shuffling around, trying to get used to their surroundings, finding one of the paths winding through the gardens. Then they start walking, gaining more confidence, and then-



trip right into a fountain. Curse their recklessness.]

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-02 03:52 am (UTC)
trombones: (i HAVE the bad time)
From: [personal profile] trombones
"And, uh, why would you be running into things? I mean you got..."

... Eyes.










He waves a hand in front of them.

Because that's literally all he can think to do to test this new revelation out. Good job, skeleton.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-02 04:53 am (UTC)
trombones: (i HAVE the bad time)
From: [personal profile] trombones
Yeah. Okay. That answers the question. Color him surprised anyhow. He blinks, the hand that was waving at Frisk hovering still in front of them.

"... You're not the Frisk I talked to before, huh."

If they hadn't said they were 'getting used' to the place, Sans would assume that the other Frisk had gone blind instead. But this place was some kind of annex of timelines, and he's well aware that he's not the only version of himself here.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-03 02:02 am (UTC)
trombones: (this is why you can't have nice things)
From: [personal profile] trombones
Sans goes quiet. You'd think it be strange that this is the kind of conclusion he comes to first. It really isn't.

"You know what? I'll explain it in a second. Let's, uh... let's get you dried off first. Yeah?"

There were no towels in a place like this, but they could use the blankets from inside. The other Frisk did for him when he fell in the fountain. As a quick fix, he takes off his jacket and holds it out to them.

... Then he remembers again that THIS Frisk can't see. His hand awkwardly hovers in the air for a couple seconds, then opts to take their hand and put the jacket in it.

You got: SANS' JACKET! Smells like a concession stand. Increases SPEED.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-03 05:00 am (UTC)
trombones: (buckle your ass kiddo)
From: [personal profile] trombones
"Yep."

The skeleton nudges them lightly and takes a few steps ahead - but watches to see what they do. He's not used to Frisk being blind, and he wouldn't know how long it's been a thing. Still, he knows better than to assume what they can and can't do.

"'Til we find some blankets. We don't have towels here. You, uh... need an arm, or no?"

Just in case. Hanging out with Doggo enough taught him that you're supposed to ask when you're not familiar with somebody. Or in this case, not familiar with your already-familiar friend's blindness.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-03 02:59 pm (UTC)
trombones: (time for bad)
From: [personal profile] trombones
"Ayup."

Sans took a couple steps backward and took Frisk's hand, setting it up to his bony arm and letting tem do the rest. He's slightly less fluffy, now that he's not wearing a jacket.

"Sorry. You being blind's actually a new thing for me."

Might as well start his explanation like this.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-04 04:17 am (UTC)
trombones: (u maybe are not gonna like what happens)
From: [personal profile] trombones
That works. It'll dry off quickly enough when it's back on Sans later.

"The castle. There's some blankets inside we can dry you off with."

With Frisk situated, he walks toward one of the openings inside.

"So... there's no better way to say this, so I guess I can't dice it. The Frisk I know isn't blind."

Which is nothing against this Frisk's blindness, but he had to start explaining the whole timeline thing somehow.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-04 04:44 am (UTC)
trombones: (ur not gogna have fun)
From: [personal profile] trombones
NICE ONE.

If Sans knew how Frisk felt, he would have tried to reassure them that they were fine. By the way they say it, he can tell something about that bothers them but... well. Maybe it's best that he explains himself first.

Regardless, he keeps his arm out and hope it lets them know that he's still here for them.

"But there's another Frisk here too. Same exact kid, striped sweater and hankering for hot animals and everything... just two of you." Disclaimer: Hankering for hot animals not required. "Technically, though... they're not the Frisk I know either. Sort of."

He shrugs.

"Give or take a few weeks of being on the surface."

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-04 10:17 pm (UTC)
trombones: (you're gonna have a bath tim)
From: [personal profile] trombones
That's fair. Water sausages in a bun don't hold a candle to actual cooking.

"If you want to," said Sans, shrugging again. "Point being, there's more than one of a few of us here. I know I'm not the only Sans, either."

"From what I can tell, it's not exactly... time-traveling, like you can do. It ain't that. It's more like a bunch of timelines got together in the same place."

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-05 03:48 am (UTC)
trombones: (ur not gogna have fun)
From: [personal profile] trombones
"No idea."

Sans voice starts to echo as they step inside the castle, though the stone footsteps should make it obvious they're going inside anyway. The bedrooms aren't far off.

"More than a couple, from what I can tell. Somebody told me something about a... 'king' Mettaton?" He makes a face. "Never met 'im."

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-05 02:36 pm (UTC)
trombones: (ur day is fineshed)
From: [personal profile] trombones
Sans wouldn't know. Even if it did happen where he came from, he wouldn't remember it. So the whole idea of Mettaton being king to him was... well. He can put together how it might happen, but it's still pretty weird.

"Yeah, one of 'em. He's from a... not-so-happy version of things, so." Sans is quiet for a moment. Then he shrugs. "Think he stole my whoopee cushion, though."

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-06 12:58 am (UTC)
trombones: (you feel font crawling up your ass)
From: [personal profile] trombones
"Heh. I like your style, but nah," Sans says, grin returning. "The other me's been through enough, he can have it. I might as 'im for joint custody, though."

He loves it too, don't worry.

(no subject)

Date: 2016-05-06 06:16 am (UTC)
trombones: (ur not gogna have fun)
From: [personal profile] trombones
"You kidding? What self-respecting comic would I be if I didn't have a dozen rubber chickens in my ribcage?"

And there they are. They come up to the same bedrom the other Frisk led him to a day ago. He gently turns in and let's them go.

"This is one of the bedrooms. I'm just gonna grab a blanket. Next best thing to a towel around here."

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