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castle_perraultSans 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!))
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!))
This is true, because it's S-4 and everyone loves him.
Date: 2016-02-16 03:12 pm (UTC)And Sans is coming to fully appreciate that he loves his brother, every version of him. It shouldn't come as a surprise, of course. But now that he's come to know another version of him, Sans can say wholeheartedly that he loves the version of his brother that groans at his bad puns and lectures him about his sleeping habits just as much as this one, who's shy and kind and laughs at his jokes.
As S-4 falls half-asleep, Sans-Serif comes half-awake, roused by the feeling of two familiar souls and the sounds of a familiar story. He opens his eyesockets just a little and pushes himself shakily up on one elbow, looking at his brother and then at his other self. Sans looks back at him and nods companionably, but doesn't stop reading.
Laying in a bed isn't the same as laying in a stasis pod. But it does provide some benefits, allow for one thing that Sans-Serif doesn't realize until then he's always wanted to do.
It's a little hard to move, bundled up as he is in his own nest of blankets. But Sans-Serif manages to shift himself nearer to S-4's side of the bed, for the sake of reaching out and wrapping a hand around his brother's fingers where they're just visible over the top of the blanket.
He smiles. And then, satisfied and content, Sans-Serif sleeps again.
Sans, meanwhile, finishes the story, closes the book, and gets up from his seat. "sleep tight, you two." He brushes a hand first over S-4's skull, then over Sans-Serif's. "you know where to find me." And he'll be right there if either of them need him.