Sans the Skeleton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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castle_perrault2016-11-13 02:56 am
sansational) wrote in castle_perrault2016-11-13 02:56 am
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[Open/Mingle Post For All] Well here we are again
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.))
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.))
God Chara he was just trying to break the ice why do you have to call him out on weakness and shit
So maybe that’s why he’s apologizing. For acting like that in front of a child. For scaring them. For any number of things he could come up with, but… those would likely be excuses, wouldn’t they? He knows that the real reason he apologizes is that it’s always his fault. He’s gotten that idea in his head from decades of conditioning and he knows realizing what Maverick did isn’t going to stop the effects.
Still, the fact that Chara seems to know that is making his stomach twist in knots.
“Maybe I am. But that’s not exactly your concern.”
He gathers up enough of his usual ‘hero’ persona to turn a smile back to Chara.
“If you don’t have anything to say, you should go enjoy the party.”
it's a habit
"Correct, it is not." Concern would imply they cared, after all. It's simply an observation.
He smiles at them, and heat flares in their chest, expression curdling. They want to smack it right off his face, rip it off and throw it on the ground and grind their heel into it. A not unusual reaction when it comes to glancing in a mirror.
They swallow the burn, and return with their own reapplied smile, sweet as anything. He's given them an out, and they won't be so remiss as to not take it, despite protest from the peanut gallery.
"I believe I have troubled yourself with my presence enough." Airily, unconcernedly. They step away from the wall. They don't look at him as they move back into the crowd. Being surrounded by far too many people is still somewhat preferable to sticking around.