turn a blind eye, days and nights we lost to weakness

[returnvoid]

The thing about being scattered across time and space, it turns out, is that your sense of time (and space) gets warped. A year a minute a moment an eternity a blink of the eyes.

This particular Gaster has been absent a good while, as far as linear time is concerned. Whether this registers or not isn't particularly clear, since he seems to move through the castle as if he belongs there, observing and collecting and recollecting what he knows about the place. Every so often a room he's unfamiliar with or hadn't seen before gives him pause, but for the most part he moves relatively confidently despite preferring to stick to the shadows.

You might be able to find him... just about anywhere, really, though he's partial to the gardens and the music room. His method of traversal isn't necessarily always mundane, however; sometimes rather than walk from place to place he'll slip through the walls or ceiling (or floor) instead. Or even assemble himself out of nothing, particle by particle, bit by bit if his target destination is across the castle and he has to rewrite his location parameters, or something.

Hopefully this doesn't surprise anyone too much.

If nothing else, by the end of the day he'll be found in the kitchens, where a flurry of hands would probably be flitting around collecting ingredients and tools and mixing bowls. Simple hobby, whim, or stress baking? Who knows.

Comments

[returnvoid]

The answer is because the best way to describe him is in fact 'skeleton-ghost', as bitty Frisk apparently puts it. From the mouths of babes.

The sentiment Kuja expresses, though, pulls a short burst of actual laughter from him- what passes for it, anyway, given that the noise he emits is more akin to a high and sharp crackling of static.

"Well. That is a most practical attitude to take. Never fear. I have memorized a few of the places on the way here, if it comes to that."

He's following! No need to worry about leaving him behind.

[silvermists]

He twitches at that noise, like one of the very oldest computers breaking, and yeah he's staring back again for a moment, sir. But Gaster doesn't look angry, so it must not mean anything. He'll keep on leading them towards the last place he saw the throne room...

"It's too big and everything moves. I don't think I've seen it all. Do you know how to get back to Bran Bal?"

[returnvoid]

He's had worse done to him than staring, but the reaction does remind him to be mindful of his, ah, general state around those who may be unsettled by it. Hmm...

"I am afraid. I do not know precisely how to get back to anywhere outside, from here. Not willfully, in any case." And by the sound of things, it's fairly likely he doesn't mean either just the gardens or the open grounds outside the castle, even if his demeanour otherwise is fairly lax.

His hands which had been folded behind him wave a little, casually, at the walls of whichever hallway or corridor or wing they're making their way down.

"This castle seems to have... more than a few oddities to it, metatemporospatially speaking."

[silvermists]

Hallway with stone walls and doors and bedrooms behind each door he's peeked through so far. He doesn't really think blowing up beds is the best idea. Giant chairs, though, who needs them?

"Met..." Kid. Baby, really. Well, he gets the idea. "Is there something else I'm supposed to be doing?"

[returnvoid]

He doesn't like to lie, but his head tilts in a vaguely curious sort of manner.

"I think. If you are looking to get back to somewhere... You will find yourself where you need to be. Exactly when you need to be," he says, breezing along without pause.

"But if it is something you are actively looking for, then the castle seems... uninclined to oblige. It is a little strange that way, regarding time and space and how it relates to outside."

[silvermists]

"...I have to want it, but I can't be looking for the way out?"

Huh. He hasn't slowed down, he's still moving along.

"I wasn't looking very hard anyway." Too many neat things. Like tinsel. And the sky looking all funny.

[returnvoid]

"That sounds about right, yes." Unhelpful, yes. It isn't as if he's much tried, himself, given that he personally doesn't have much to go back to, but... "If it helps at all. I daresay you could explore all you like. And not have to worry about actually looking for a way back?" His hands lace again, after another brief, offhand wave. "So by all means. Feel free to do as you will."

[silvermists]

Neither does Kuja. He just doesn't know it yet. It's all he's ever known.

Stairs. How does the legless wonder handle stairs? He's staring, actually grinning a bit and not in a mocking way.

"Exploring and looking for it are the same thing."

[returnvoid]

The legless wonder handles stairs in a disappointing way, probably. The shadowy cloak drapes, despite its mutable, gaseous nature, so really the floor length darkness just... stretches somewhat, before returning to normal, something like an overlong nightgown or robe would, if an overlong nightgown or robe wisped away little bits of itself with any motion. There may possibly actually be some semblance of legs in there? Who can tell, really. The way the blackness morphs and reshapes itself seems to indicate the presence of something articulated, in any case... But in actual response... "No, no. They are of different purposes, different intents. They are very different things, even if sometimes the outcome of the pursuit is the same. It is the goal in one, and simply. A happy accident, for the other."

[silvermists]

The grin fades away. Now he's just going down the stairs, no longer watching.

"...but I can do both at the same time."

He doesn't really know why he's trying to protest. Sort of. Pointless, when he's already been given permission... and he didn't need any from someone not Garland.