[Open/Mingle Post For All] Well here we are again

[sansational]

Sans has been keeping tally marks. Not entirely reliably, of course. But around about the point he first started realizing that his time in the castle wasn't just a dream, he started keeping marks on some of the older headstones in the cemetary. Just for his own sake. Just for what had been at the time the sheer novelty of watching time progress in a linear manner again. And after a certain point, it had simply become a force of habit. After all, by then he'd taken to poking around the cemetary regularly anyway to check for new people anyway.

One morning, he realizes that - give or take a few days - his tally marks now total up one year. 

That's...something to think about. And he takes a couple of days to think about it, while he works on a certain project alongside Tauriel. He thinks about everything that's happened in a year. All the people that have come and gone. Some of them haven't gone, though. Thanks to the most seemingly minor circumstances in the world, they're here beside him instead. He's more grateful for that than he would have thought he could be, back then.

After all, that means when he finally decides to put his plan into action, he has Serif and Papyrus to help him spread the world. He has Tauriel to help him pinpoint people he might not have met yet - there really are so many more people around nowadays. And he has Frisk to keep him motivated, even if they don't know exactly how they're doing that. After all, he can't relax too much from this project, because another certain project is always waiting for him. It has been for weeks now, even before the recent chaos.

So once the dust has settled from the mass transforming, more or less everyone in the castle will find themselves receiving a message from a skeleton in a blue hoodie. He speaks it in person if he feels safe to approach. Otherwise, he leaves a note with a date, time, and a brief mention of a plan. The location his invitation points to is the ballroom, with its mirrored floor and its impossibly long buffet tables full of sweets.

On the stated day, at the stated time, everyone will...still have to wait five minutes for Sans to pull himself together after a nap, remember what he's supposed to be doing, and suddenly appear inside the room, still in the process of hastily smoothing out his badly rumbled, wrinkled notecards. It had taken him literal hours to dig these up out of the mess his lab has become.

"so, uh, yeah," he says, looking from the assembled residents to the cards and back again. He has to learn in and squint to read his own faded handwriting. "should probably explain what you're all doing here. so. i'm sure you've all noticed that this castle has got some weird things going on, above and beyond the whole, uh...stealing us from across time and space thing. i'm also assuming that most of you want to go home and won't mind helping me figure out a way to get us there." He gestures at the table. "to do that, i'm gonna need to start testing some of these theories. guesswork is fun, but it doesn't get us anywhere. timing how long it takes this place to reset something seems like a good start. and so this particular experiment runs as cleanly as possible, uh...i'm gonna need your help eating everything on that table. like, all of it. just don't choke on any shiny bits." 

Message delivered, Sans crams the notecards back in his pocket, and spreads his arms in silent indication for everyone to dig in. 

Those castle residents who were here last year might have reason to be suspicious. Might even have reason to call this entire plan a lie. After all, they know that trying to eat everything on these tables ultimately didn't lead to a damn thing being discovered about the castle. At least, besides some uncertain notes that Sans never thought were worth sharing. Why get people's hopes up? 

But what had been accomplished was getting everyone together and talking. Connections had been made. Support systems had been built. Maybe that can happen again for some of the newcomers. He can only hope. 

Besides. Maybe this year will be different. Science is all about repetition, after all.

((ooc: Post comments for your characters that can be replied to, and mingle as you see fit! Eat, drink, be merry, have food fights, and try to be sick outside! There are very few people Sans wouldn't have invited. Even if you don't think he would have invited you, you can feel free to have your characters notice the noise and wander inside to see what the fuss is about.))

Comments

[trombones]

Huh. Okay.

Sans is quiet for a while as he listens to his other self's spiel. He runs his finger over the shallow cut in his cheekbone - a bad habit now, but it sort of helps him think. Perma-grin expression unchanging, his pinprick eyes wandering to the food. He hadn't been here last year, but he knew himself well enough to get that there was some kind of underlying meaning to this, even if he didn't know exactly what.

Besides, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to go home. He just wasn't sure if he could. He rarely talked about it in the first place. ... Come to think of it, he only talked about it once with the other Sans, and vaguely alluded it to Gaster. Still. This was actually kind of cool. He'd be lying twice if he said he wasn't curious - or hungry.

Anyone who knows Sans might notice that he's unusually quiet. Not that he's never quiet, but there's been at least three opportunities to say something stupid so far and he hasn't made a single crack. Sure, he's leaned against a chair with his feet propped on the table and three slices of cake on one plate, but now that perma-grin looks more... pensive. Thinking. About this, about the castle, about home...

This Sans hadn't been here as long as the first one, but. Man. Now that he thinks about it... it really has been a while.

Huh.

Anyway, check out this pensive-looking skeleton down three whole slices in two minutes.

[itstheend]

"Scull! Scull! Scull!"

Enjoy a small gremlin suddenly banging on the table with both fists near you, Sans. They were hiding camping under the table, saw a very familiar pair of shorts and decided to surface for air, and found him apparently inhaling food.

They couldn't not, even if they're wondering if he's also somehow eating the jewellery.

[trombones]

No jewelry yet. Maybe later.

Sans blinks and his brows raise, snapped out of his thought. His head jerks down.

"Oh. Hey, kid."

[itstheend]

"Don't stop on my account."

How much cake can a skeleton eat? It is a mystery, especially since stomach capacity isn't an issue. They tilt their head towards the rest of the party.

"Did you set this up?"

A mild note of accusation in their voice. The note they got was in comic sans, after all.

[trombones]

A lot, honestly. Most of it is actually gone by now, so he sets the plate off of his stomach. Or, you know, the mysterious lump that's apparently supposed to be a stomach. If you lifted his shirt up, you'd still find nothing there.

Anyway. The plate gets set on the table. He sighs and scratches at his cheekbone again.

"Nope. That's the other me," He says, closing one eye. Don't think he doesn't notice the accusation in their voice. "If you got a bone to pick, go ask him."

[itstheend]

Aw, he stopped. The scratching draws Chara's attention, highly tuned to movement as they are, and they notice the 'scar' there. That's downright strange, until they consider that as a human, he might have been able to take a hit. It's odd to think about, like the idea a Sans that was entirely blue, bones and everything.

They tilt their head, unabashedly looking at it, but they don't ask. Yet.

"Ah. I had wondered."

How many Sanses are there here? That's too many Sanses. There's too many Charas too, but that'd be the case with even one Chara.

"One question. Why."

There was that whole thing with eating everything on the table, with notecards even, but... the same effect could be achieved by getting someone to dump it all off the Edge, right?

*Not everyone has an ulterior motive, Chara!

Name them one person who doesn't.

*Monster Kid.

Doesn't count! There's then a bit of mental back and forth 'does too' 'does not' bickering, Chara's eyes unfocusing a little.

[trombones]

What's weirder is that the 'scar' wasn't even a scar before. Gaster cut his face when he attacked Sans last month, but it wasn't bone deep. On top of that, he healed him after he snapped out of it. It was completely gone until he changed back. Weird.

Anyway. Sans quirks a brow bone about as much as bone allows - which is surprisingly a lot, since he's a walking cartoon.

"Why don't ya ask him?"

[itstheend]

The question snaps Chara back into the present, but not before Frisk gets the last word in by metaphysically sticking their tongue out at them.

They shrug. That's... a really good idea.

"I thought perhaps you might know. I might later."

Watching the bone of his face move is even weirder knowing what it feels like now. Chara finally asks the obvious question.

"What happened to your face?"

Did he have a run in with the 'Absolute God of Hyperdeath', too? A human soul is more valuable than a monster one.

[trombones]

"What, you think I can read my own mind, kiddo?" Sans says with a stretch. He's half kidding, half hoping he can dismiss this whole conversation and get left alone already. "Welp. I'm gonna take a nap. How 'bout you go bug--"

Ugggghhhhhh.

He cracks one eye open.

"Cut myself shaving."

[itstheend]

Honestly, they would not be surprised. If anyone can read a Sans, it would be another Sans, right? But they can drop it, if only because like a distractible teething puppy they've found another thing to chew on. His annoyance only makes them want to pester him more.

"Sounds like a close shave."

They tilt their head. A dodge that's pretty plain as a dodge.

"Was the razor boss-monster-shaped?"

[trombones]

"Yep. You know how hair grows on the bone and all that. Real pain for us."

And Sans actually knew what having facial hair (well, stubble) was like thanks to last month. He brings his hands behind his head and closes his eyes.

"Sure, kid."

[itstheend]

Chara takes that as a yes, which is enough for them to drop it. They got what they wanted.

And it seems they're not going to get any more from him. They can't think of any reason to stay, and they might as well go pester the other Sans, who might have better answers.

"Then I shall get out of it."

His non-existent hair, that is. They stand up fully, and start trotting off.

[sansational]

Sans has definitely noticed that his other self seems especially pensive. It's not a good look on him. Yet when he stops to think about it, it's not hard to guess why. Between their encounter with Croc and everything that happened after...he was too busy getting caught up in a Chara's idea of fun, but it's not hard to imagine that other Sanses probably had an equally or even more miserable time of it.

"yo." He blinks into place leaning against Sans' chair as well, a half-eaten muffin still in one hand. "thanks for stopping by."

[trombones]

It's definitely not a good look. Being moody makes his face look weird enough. When the other Sans appears (literally) nearby, he blinks and looks up. There's a look of genuine surprise for a moment, as if he's been snapped out of his thoughts for a moment.

He half-wonders if he can bullshit himself.

"Hey. No problem." His tired grin goes slightly lopsided. "It's a pretty good idea. I'd say it takes the 'cake'."

[lostinmyway]

Grune blinks a few times at that very quickly disappearing cake.

"Oh, my. Are you very hungry, Sans?"

[trombones]

"Mmfph?"

Sans looks up. For all his pensive-ness, the crumbs on his jacket and the icing at the corner of his mouth is still pretty gross. He swallows and blinks at Grune.

"Oh, hey. Grune, right? It's been a while. Uh, yeah. Guess I'm pretty hungry, eh?"

[lostinmyway]

"My, has it been a while?"

She spends a moment pondering that before her attention drifts back to Sans.

"Would you like me to find you some more food?"

That way, he won't have to worry about looking around and he can work on filling himself right up.

[trombones]

"I'd say so. I'm the other Sans, so you've probably run into the one running the shower here more than me."

He taps the scar on his cheekbone, just to show the differences between him and the other Sans. As for food, he chuckles and brings his plate down to the table.

"You know what? That'd be perfect."

[lostinmyway]

Grune looks over the scar Sans shows her (was that there before?), but then her attention is caught by his request.

She beams. "Okay! I'll be right back!"

And off she goes.