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

[lightofthestars]

She sets her arms beneath his knees and rises. She returns to walking, faster than her normal stride, for she wishes him to see Grune's garden as soon as possible.

"Thank you for saying that, but you weigh as air, pen vuin. It is no great task for me to carry you."

Her stride checks a moment, for she is taking him from food that he so plainly needs, but then she continues. There is fruit in the courtyard, which is far better for a hungry young one than so much sugar.

[antitemporal]

He swings his legs back and forth a little, curious at the somewhat weightless sensation of being carried like this. But not so curious that he can't reply: "really? dr. gaster says i'm heavier than a normal monster." Or at least, a normal skeleton of his size. With the pleased and faintly self-important air of a child remembering a very adult and difficult fact, Sans-Serif adds: "it's because of the determination. but humans are really strong. so i guess elfs can be really strong, too."

If Tauriel wants an explanation for any of that, she'll have to wait. The ballroom isn't that far from the outdoors, and even just in coming out into the hallway, the windows offer a wide view of outside.

He falls silent immediately, eyesockets wide and round as he stares out at more colors than he'd ever thought could exist.

[lightofthestars]

She smiles when he is struck silent and lengthens her stride again.

"Soon you will be standing outside. You will be able to feel the air upon your--bones and the ground beneath your feet," she tells him. An idea strikes her. "Hold on tight."

Once she feels him obey, she will sprint as swiftly as only an Elf may.