Look at me still talking when there's science to do (Open Post)

[sansational]

Sans is starting to get a handle on this place. Perhaps more to the point, and more potentially useful, is that he's started to get a handle on its inhabitants. There are a few that he keeps a personal eye on on a semi-regular basis, even if they don't always know it. The rest, he's just made note of their passage and their movements. It's all for professional purposes, of course.

And that means that, when he's finally ready to do so, Sans can make contact with every person currently in the castle, either in-person if he knows them by name or by leaving a note somewhere they'll see it if he doesn't yet. Whether by spoken or written word, the message is nevertheless always the same. It's a request to meet him in the ballroom with the cakes table at a certain time and place. From his observations, it seems to be one of the more stable rooms in the castle, so everyone should be able to find it. 

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 notecards. 

"so, uh, yeah," he says, looking from the assembled residents to the cards and back again. "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. 

((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!))

Comments

[sansational]

In reply, Sans sticks out a hand. "hey there. my name is sans, the skeleton. nice to meet you." His goal is hardly nutrition in general, let alone when matters of time and space are not at stake.

Still, Sans watches very carefully as Mettaton takes a bite, just to make sure that there don't seem to be any adverse effects, before he asks: "what do you care about nutrition, anyway?"

[mediadarling]

He rolls his eyes. "His" Sans or not, some things simply do not change.

"Personally? Not at all. But when it comes to the children" --he waves his fork in the general area of the shorter contingent-- "I find I care a great deal."

Mostly about Frisk, but...after picking them up from school a few times and meeting some of their human friends, he's come to discover he has a fondness for children. And not just because they can grow up as lifelong fans, either.

[sansational]

It takes Sans a second...and then he narrows his eyes for a moment. He's a pretty laid back skeleton in general, but he's nevertheless not at all sure he likes what Mettaton might be implying.

"they're tough kids," he says, a touch cautiously, also looking over at the shorter contingent. Though in his case, they're more along the lines of the his-height contingent. "a little sugar and a little fun isn't gonna kill 'em. wouldn't have set this up if i thought it would." Obviously.

[mediadarling]

"It may not kill them, but it's going to make some of them sick."

Now his fork-wave is much more precise, indicating Sophie. She's acting as if this is her last chance to taste sugar for the rest of her life, for goodness' sake.

[sansational]

Sans follows Mettaton's fork-wave to Sophie. While it's true that her eating that amount of food looks a little alarming from his perspective, she seems to be enjoying herself immensely. So he almost looks more impressed than alarmed. That is a girl who knows what she wants out of life.

"if they wanna eat themselves sick, they're gonna eat themselves sick with or without me. this is here all the time. we both might as well get something out of it, right?"

[mediadarling]

"I'll be sure to tell Toriel you said that." Don't think he doesn't mean it, Sans.

He has another bite of cake. It's no more enjoyable than the first.

[sansational]

"i'm not scared of toriel." He's even only lying a little when he says that.

Though even just in mentioning her, Mettaton brings up an interesting point, one that had partly fueled the creation of this little experiment in the first place. "so. you. toriel. frisk." Now it's his turn to wave his fork at the kid for emphasis. "you all seem to know each other pretty well. would it be safe to say that you're all from about the same timeline, then?"

[mediadarling]

If Sans really isn't afraid of Toriel, then he's very much in the minority. Oh well. He'll learn.

"As far as I can tell, yes. Although it seems their present is my past." He waits, ready to see where Sans is going with this.

[sansational]

Where Sans is going with this is mostly to be surprised at that particular revelation. His eyesockets widen for a moment, and then he hastily flips a page in his notebook before pulling s a pen out of his pocket so fast that it almost seems to materialize out of thin air.

"how much your past?"

[mediadarling]

...Well, that was unexpected.

"Several months. Is that so surprising?"

Surely with all the time travel going on around here, that shouldn't be worth that sort of a reaction.

[sansational]

Sans reply is to, quite simply, place both his hands - notebook and pen included - over his eyesockets and let a long, long sigh that sounds more than a little like "aaaaaargh."

"surprising? probably not. complicated? kinda. but, uh, thanks anyway."

[mediadarling]

"You're welcome." His hand is most definitely on his hip now. "Now do you plan on sharing what this is all about, or are you just going to make noises to yourself? Because you don't need me for that, darling."

[sansational]

"the number of timelines in existence approaches infinity. so, uh, just because you and frisk and toriel basically remember the same series of events? doesn't mean you all are from the same timeline. we don't have people here from two or maybe three timelines." Depending on how S-4 and Sans-Serif were going to turn out, of course. "we have people here from five. maybe even six. hell...gaster never stood a chance in this kind of environment."

Right. He probably has to explain that, too. Sans lifts his head and gives the most concise explanation he can think of. "my other brother. kind of." For this Sans in particular, at least. "you probably don't remember him. nobody outside this castle does. he was kind of lost across time and space and he was here for a while except being around fragments of too many timelines did...weird things to him. made him try to be two people at once. which is probably why he's not here now."

Sans spreads his arms wide with a sardonic sort of smile. Ta-da. Aren't you glad you asked, Mettaton?

[mediadarling]

...Well. He did ask.

But yes, he is glad he did, even if he's going to have the most awful headache from trying to work this all out. He's back to missing Alphys for about the hundredth time since he arrived.

"Are you sure that means we're from a different timeline?" he checks. "It could just be that I'm from their future." He laughs a little. "'Just.' Oh, the things we get used to."

[sansational]

Sans can't help but grin in wry agreement, at this. "we're a pretty adaptable bunch. as for futures and pasts...hypothetically, you could be from their future? but, uh, going back to that whole 'approaching infinity' thing...the odds aren't great."

It's only after all of this that he realizes how this might sound to Mettaton, especially with how visibly attached the robot is to Frisk. Sans waves a hand as though to tease sense out of the air, hastening on to add: "i wouldn't worry about it, though? i mean, as long as you're not a guy who's been scattered across time and space, it shouldn't really make any difference to you. the upside of that whole 'approaching infinity' thing is that even if you are from different timelines, they might be really ridiculously small differences. like, 'maybe frisk was carrying something besides that old frying pan when you fought' kinda thing."

[mediadarling]

"...A stick," he says.

He searches for Frisk in the crowd, watches them contently eat away as his soul clenches--but it doesn't matter. Even if they're not "his" Frisk, they're still Frisk, and he still loves them with everything he has.

He looks back at Sans and smiles lopsidedly. "Well. I'll keep that in mind."

[sansational]

The smile Sans offers in turn, meanwhile, is surprisingly not unsympathetic. "might be better if you forget it, actually. you'll be happier that way." He grabs up a doughnut to munch on, more for the sake of having something to do with his hands than anything.

"see, uh...i've always known about the resets. well, basically always. but that look you're giving me, that's why i gave up explaining a few dozen of them ago. was kind of a relief, actually, to finally get the chance to tell frisk i knew."

[mediadarling]

That admission is enough to shock him out of his...well, shock.

"You've always known? How'd you manage that, darling?" Why him, of all monsters? Unless.... "Does anyone else know about them?

[sansational]

"it's a long story. and, uh, probably a different one depending on which sans you ask." He nods at Sans-Serif where he's still creeping about as evidence of this much. "suffice it to say...time and space just kind of make sure it ends up that way?" Which is probably not an acceptable or helpful answer at all. But it's also not a dishonest one. "mostly, it all comes back to gaster." And he's still out of practice at even explaining or being able to explain Gaster witout being forcibly erased from time and space along with him.

"anyone else...hm." Sans taps his pen thoughtfully against his skull. He actually has to think more about this particular question than he might have bothered to do so before meeting Frisk. "a tiny yellow flower?" He sincerely hopes that Mettaton has never met Flowey. No one deserves to have Flowey inflicted on them. "papyrus had a sense of them, maybe? so did undyne. hell, you've probably noticed them, too. ever get a really intense deja vu? like you've lived the same few days over and over again? it's because you did. we all did. but hey." Because the alternative is showing his own hopelessness, Sans offers Mettaton a hopeful sort of smile. "at least those are over with, for you. frisk won't reset on you guys."

They'd promised. And Sans believes them.

[mediadarling]

Mettaton's lips press together at the mention of "a tiny yellow flower." Frisk goes to visit Flowey fairly often, always with someone keeping an eye on them. He had been that monster once. Once.

As for that sense of deja vu...come to think of it, sometimes he used to lose track of whether he'd recorded episodes of his shows or if they'd already aired. Sometimes he'd forget what day it was--hadn't they already had a Tuesday that week? He had always written it off as the pressures of stardom, but maybe....

He shakes his head a little and returns Sans' smile. "That's right, darling. They promised they won't ever reset again--we're all having far too much of a wonderful time for that."