let's hear it for the boy

[trombones]

Another day, another toddler. Now, there's a small skeleton monster wandering the castle. He's three years old to be exact, but who here could date the exact age of walking, talking bones? It's easy to tell it's Sans. He's shorter than usual, a lot more bug-eyed (socketed, whatever), but that blue jacket and perma-grin are still dare. He's pretty cute for a monster who grew up to be a walking, talking grease machine.

For anyone wandering the library in the middle of the afternoon, you might find a pile of books and blankets piled at a table. The blankets cover most of the table, save for a small "entrance" supported by books. The blanket is just thin enough to see the candlelight inside, as well as a skeleton-shaped shadow.

Should you choose get closer, two pairs of large blue eyes glow from under the entrance and dart out. Two floating skulls, both resembling dogs, speed out and lap several circles around your feet in a flurry of barks and sniffing. Mostly sniffing. They're not really dangerous, they're actually pretty excited by the new company.

Sans pokes his head out.

"Hey! You guys are supposed to be guard dogs!!"

By now, the skulls are yipping and bouncing in their floating spots. Sans groans about as exasperatively as a toddler can get. Which is a lot, if you've ever met a three-year-old. They're pretty sassy. He props himself on his stomach, and in the gap he makes between the entrance and the candlelight, you might be able to catch the pile of Christmas-themed sweets stashed under the table. Like, a lot. He stole a lot of cookies.

"Hi. I'm Sans. This is my... this is my big cool fort. I got treasure and guard dogs and a moat."

He points to a pile of books laid in a uneven circle around the table. That's the moat.

Comments

[voidster]

Not to mention the third guard in the room. Beware the Dadster who speaks in hands. There is no way he's letting small Sans out of his sight again. Not for life, love, SOUL, or anything else. Hey, as long as he can keep the little guy entertained, there won't be any teleporting off for better rooms, he hopes.

A purple, disembodied, magical hand is sneaking under the table to steal the treasure!!!

[trombones]

He hopes. This doesn't guarantee Sans won't teleport in and out of the kitchen to stockpile more cookies. Speaking of: Sans crawls back to his fort a moment later. The blasters follow behind. The little skeleton quickly spots something purple out of the corner of the corner of his eye. By now, he knows exactly what it is.

He gasps quietly and bats the hand away. Not hard, naturally, but he's pretty determined. The other hand drags the platter he's kept his stash on.

"Uh-uh."

For all his determined insistence, he's not outright angry. He hardly had tantrums to begin with. It's rare to see Sans mad, even for his age. He was a pretty chill toddler, all things considered. Regardless, he looks up in the direction he knows Gaster is in.

"You said you're s'posed ask first."

[voidster]

Oh no, owned by a baby. Whatever shall he do?

Keep on grinning. He kneels down to peer under the table, and the hand vanishes.

"✌💧😐✋☠☝ ☞✋☼💧❄ ✋💧 ☠⚐ ⌖✌✡ ❄⚐ ❄☜💧❄ ✡⚐✞☼ ☞⚐☼❄🕯💧 👎☜☞☜☠💧☜💧 ✌☠👎 ☝✞✌☼👎 👎⚐☝💧📬 ☠⚐⌖ ❄☟✌❄ ✋❄🕯💧 👍☹☜✌☼ ✋🕯💣 ☠⚐ 💣✌❄👍☟ ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐✞📪 ❄☟⚐✞☝☟📬📬📬 💣✌✡ ✋ ☟✌✞☜ ⚐☠☜📪 🚩☹☜✌💧☜✍"

[trombones]

Sans stares down the hand for a moment, expression unchanging but saying nothing regardless. Then it disappears, and he looks to Gaster. He then slowly reaches for the sweets.

"Yeah."

He takes a truffle out and slides it under the blanket.

"S'chocolate. You like chocolate."

That's more of a statement than a question somehow. Obviously, you like chocolate. Sans said so.

[voidster]

Like he'd turn down sweets anytime, anywhere, especially since at least 50% of the time, he's forgotten to sit down and eat a real meal. Thank goodness he's a skeleton and not a hungrier sort of monster!

"✌☟📪 ✡⚐✞ 💧🚩⚐✋☹ 💣☜ 💧⚐📬" he says, partly to amuse himself, and takes the truffle, nibbling a third of it away.

Guess who's back, back again?

[sansational]

So this is...weird, but also cool.

There's another toddler standing at the entrance to the fort. He's a little bit older than Sans, though not by much and he's certainly not any taller. Not to mention that he still looks a little alarmed by the guard dogs.

But then the apparent owner of said guard dogs pokes his head out of the fort and...okay, this is even weirder, but also cooler! After all, this skeleton looks like him. And Sans likes to think that he's pretty cool. So skeletons that look like him are also pretty cool. Besides, it's just nice to see another monster around this place - he'd thought it was full of humans so far!

"hi!" he says, waving back. "i'm sans, too." He's gradually growing less alarmed and more charmed by the yipping little skulls. "can i pet your dogs?"

Most of the dogs he knows are much too tall for him to pet, even if they kneel down to his level.

HEYYYYYYYYY

[trombones]

Sans is quiet for a moment. He watches the other for a moment, blinking up with enormous eyes. It's not a long moment, but huh. This skeleton looked a heck of a lot like him. But as puzzling as it was, Sans was never the type to be shy or bothered for long.

He finally waves, then gives an eager nod.

"Yeah, you can pet them!"

The little skeleton crawls the rest of the way out and sits in front of the opening.

"They like people. They REALLY like skeletons. Dad says they're soul bond and magi... magicon... magikatrolled."

Translation: 'soul bound and magic controlled'.

[itstheend]

If Chara were older, and had therefore experienced a certain crummy juncture, the 'dogs' would not have recieved the... best reception.

As it is, this ten year old has no idea these things breathe searing light. At this point, they're kind of just going with things. Nothing here makes sense. It's a strange dream.

They were walking into the library to retrieve more books when they see the fort set up in their absence. They didn't intend to disturb whoever's inside, but they need to return this tome over there and they got a little too close - close enough to suddenly be accosted by... dog skulls? In a way, they are good guard dogs.

They stand there while being sniffed with the expression of someone who is being very cautioned by the Electrike bite on one hand, palms up, the book having been dropped with a wince. At the shout they jerk and look at the skeleton? It's rude to stare, and they avert their eyes.

It's rude to not answer people too, and they fold the non-bitten hand over the bitten one in front of them.

"May I pet them?"

They don't know what to say to fort, or treasure, or moat, because he sure does have those things. But dogs are for petting - if they like being pet.

[trombones]

Oh, cool! He's never seen a monster like that before. Sans blinks up at them. Chara had hidden the bite before he noticed it, but the skeleton was pretty astute for his age. He'd ask later.

"Yeah! They like people."

He nods eagerly. Whatever Chara decides to do, Sans watches them for a moment. The wheels in his skull are turning. He's grinning.

"You're a cool monster! Why do you have all your fur on your head?"

Sans was born in the capital, so he had met a variety of monsters already. Most of the furrier monsters he met usually had it all over, though. Like Mr. Dreemur! He was really furry. And soft too.

"Can I touch it?"

[itstheend]

Permission granted, Chara reaches out towards one of the dog skulls with the uninjured hand, slipping the other into a pocket. It's bad form, but showing injury is worse form. Weakness only ever is pounced on, so the lesser evil it is.

"I have it because I look human," they tell him politely, on the brink of matter-of-factly, petting carefully. It very much doesn't feel like petting a live animal at all, but they think the skull is enjoying it, so they're probably doing it correctly. They're just switching to the other so it doesn't feel left out when the small skeleton asks the second question and the petting hand stills before continuing.

They want the answer to be no. Very, very much. Asking to touch someone's hair is weirder than handshakes, so there might be room to decline (then again, they petted a talking cat not too long ago, so they aren't really one to talk either, are they?) But they know the tall skeleton is looking for this one and is probably his parent, and so they have to be very careful here.

"Yes," they say shortly, chewing their tongue, and they stay their gaze on the dog skull, keeping the small skeleton in their peripheral vision. "My apologies for not mentioning it sooner, but are you aware there is a tall skeleton looking for you?"

[trombones]

"... Oh."

Sans blinks up at them. Clearly unbothered, but not even more curious. The Blasters are having the time of their lives right now, panting happily and leaning into Chara's petting.

Sans gets up and waddles over to them. He then reaches up to touch their hair, fascinated but somewhat ginger. Dad always told him to be careful of touching monster's fur, as they can get caught easily in a skeleton's hand bones. Hair would be even more annoying, but he still thinks it's fur.

"Humans have fur on their heads?" He asks, looking up at Chara with a wide-eyed curiosity. As for Chara's next question, Sans only tilts his head.

[itstheend]

Chara's fingers close on the bone of the blaster, fingernails digging in tightly as their hair is touched. Their eyes are shut - they're fully expecting and picturing a tug or yank, breathing halted. It's gentle, but it can't be over soon enough.

Sorry, dog-skull.

Their breathing is quick and shallow and they're smiling when Sans asks the question. It takes some unknown time - they can't tell how long but longer than is usual - to realise he spoke, and process it, and thank god it's something with an easy, thoughtless answer.

"Yes," they say, and then correct themself several seconds later. "Most of them do." Allowance has to be made for the bald. "But they call it 'hair'."

[silvermists]

Small child, meet a slightly bigger, fleshier child. He looks to be about eight or nine, he has feathers stuck in his silver hair, and he has a goddamn monkey's tail. The skulls rushing him like that have him jumping, right up onto the table. Hey, he leaps like a monkey too, the silly boy.

He drops down onto his stomach, peering over the edge of the table at whatever's under there. Is that a person? It's talking???

"...What are you?"

[trombones]

This one is a pretty weird-looking monster too. But he has more fur, feathers, and even a tail, so that makes more sense to the monster boy in his clearly well-guarded fort. He blinks.

"I'm Sans."

That's who, not what.

[silvermists]

Makes perfect sense to him. His name is who and what he is, too. Because he's unique, special, and amazing.

(Okay, the last part is purely his own opinion.)

"I'm Kuja. Where's the rest of you??"

[trombones]

Baw. Thanks, dude.

Sans blinks again. He has to think about the question for a second, until he THINKS he knows what the "monster" means. He picks himself up off his stomach and crawls the rest of the way out. With that, he sits cross-legging and holding his ankles, emphasizing "the rest of him". He beams.

"Right here!"

[silvermists]

"Not that!" He sits up, dangling legs over the edge of the table and tail held high behind him, again like a monkey. Chin in hands, he leans forward, fascinated.

"You're all bones! Where'd the rest of you go?" Morbidly curious, as opposed to actually concerned: "Does it hurt?"

[demonthatcomes]

Chara hasn't changed at all, and their eyes widen at the tiny little skeleton and the two skulls yipping and sniffing their boots. They tentatively pet the skulls, looking around inside the fort. Sans is so... small. Different. Kids and adults and their strange tendency to feel like two different people at different ages.

"Greetings... Sans."

[trombones]

The skulls love this. They both nuzzle up against Chara's hands, their yips turning more and more affectionate.

"Greetings," Sans repeats, albeit somewhat slowly. He's heard the word before, but it doesn't really roll off the figurative tongue. He pulls himself out of the blanket and sits up. His legs cross and he holds at his ankles. Slowly, he sways back and forth.

"I like... I like your fur. Why'sit all up there?"

He points to Chara's hair. One of the blasters floats up higher and sniffs it. He's met a decent variety of monsters in his whole three years of being alive, but most monsters with fur usually had it all over. Then again, Sans has only just barely grasped the concept of skin and hair. Maybe they shaved it? Now he's thinking about Mr. Dreemur with no fur. Maybe he's a skeleton underneath?

"Do you have bones?"

[demonthatcomes]

Good lord, the skulls blaster things really were like dogs. If they had tongues, they'd be kissing Chara all over by now. Their cheeks burn pink as a smile escapes them, which they quickly hide.

"You mean my hair?" Right. They've been growing out their bangs, hadn't they? They didn't have the long fuzzy ears of the Dreemurrs they were so fascinated by (they loved pulling Asriel's), but they wanted a look that reminded them of them. If Sans told Chara there were like a mostly-bald Toriel and Asgore, Chara... wouldn't know what to think. Flattered, maybe? But it felt bittersweet.

"Of course I do. Lots of people have them." They wiggle their fingers. One of the benefits of having ridiculously pale skin (in their humble opinion) is being able to see your own veins and bones. "See? You can even feel them--look." Knuckles only, however... anything on the wrist or beyond will cause Chara to wrench back.

[trombones]

Sans blinks and watches quietly for a moment - until Chara wiggles their fingers. His sockets widen. Whoah!! He stays up and moves closer to look at them.

"Cool!! Can I touch?"

[vvaylon]

Waylon wakes up smaller, still scaled, and considerably skinnier. It was about this age he learned to walk with a swagger so people would read into the implicit threat and just leave him alone. It's with this swagger (to no one, because he's all alone in this dank, damp little cave) he ventures into the castle proper.

The sun is gloriously out, and there's nothing more that Waylon would love to do than go bask in the sun outside. He sees kids playing down there, though, he sees people, and decides better of it.

When he goes into the next room, he's surrounded on two sides by... bones? They're nothing like the tough rotties that Waylon's well-learned to fear. He almost winds up to kick one before he hears an exasperated voice, and a grinning child-- nope, not grinning, just a skeleton like the rest of everything in here, apparently-- comes into the open.

"Oh." Moat. He plonks himself down on one of the moat-books, tail uncomfortably squashed. "You need a crocodile?"

[trombones]

"A crocodile...?"

Sans crawls the rest of the way out of his well-guarded fort and sits cross-legged. A crocodile-looking monster isn't all that unusual to him, it's actually a familiar sight compared to all the strange-looking monsters he had seen since he got here. Waylon was stranger, but Sans knew a lot of scaly monsters like him back home.

"Yeah!! A crocodile! Then we'd have a super strong moat!"

waylon: pay me. waylon: asks for food anyways

[vvaylon]

"Heheh." Waylon lays down on the moat-books, sharp edges poking into his sides, but he was well-enough protected by his clothes and scales that it didn't hurt. He snaps his teeth together playfully at one of the skulls when it ventures near enough; though he's being careful, it's easy to see how he could easily hurt someone without carefully monitoring what he was doing. It's why he's staying so low, now-- he doesn't want to hurt Sans.

"You gotta pay me, though. I don't do croc work for free." He reaches towards the snack stockpile in the fort. "Can I have a cookie?"

nice

[trombones]

Sans watches Waylon as he does so, his grin spreading even wider in more excitement. He crawls over to him. This is perfect. He's like, super excited to have a moat crocodile right now.

"Yeah!" He reaches under the blanket and pulls out a large platter full of sweets jacked from the kitchen, cookies and all. "Here you go!"

Might as well be payment anyways.