[mingle] what's the dream and what's the reality?

[lovetheme]

Lately the castle's nights have been very clear and almost warm, even up so high among the clouds as they are. But regardless of the weather, they are generally peaceful nights, and few things seem to stir during them...apart from the castle's inhabitants, be it with late-night roving or with sleep. The dreams, by extension, are at least undisturbed...if maybe not always pleasant. That sort of thing tends to vary by the person, of course.

But now--and for several nights, consecutively--the castle residents may find their dreams starting to take on stranger shapes: memories they've never had, friends that don't usually arrive, strangers they've never seen. These odd impressions might cling and continue to confuse even upon waking, vivid as they were; was it really just a dream, or maybe something more...? Does that newcomer in your dream remember you there too, in the daytime?

Either way, there seems to be an strange energy in the air during these nights. And it's bringing dreams together.

((ooc: And here's the catch-all post for the dream-sharing event! Feel free to top-level with your character's dreams here, or thread around in others! The event should only last about a week, but backtagging is eternal c: The ooc planning post can be found here!))

Comments

[lostinmyway]

Grune beams. "Okay!"

She stands up and off she runs! ...Or jogs, because she's Grune and only rarely does she run at all.

[antitemporal]

Sans-Serif frowns to hear that Sophie's forgotten again, or at least again from his perspective. "we have to look out for the red kite!" he replies, with the long-suffering air that comes from feeling as though you've given an explanation several times already. "and not the yellow kite. or the green one. definitely not the green one. but we can't miss the red one." He nods resolutely. "it might look pink, though. but that's okay."

...still, since Sophie is up here with him anyway, Sans-Serif opens his hand for her to see. A small pile of glowing points of light rests in his bony palm. "stars," he replies, matter-of-fact, before tossing another one into his mouth. "want one?"

[sansational]

Sans definitely seems to feel a bit better, just from holding her hand. He generally does.

"just into the woods." He points off into the distance, out of town and towards a swathe of enormously tall, bare trees, stark against the mountain walls around them. "you know how it is." Sans clears his throat, drawing himself up a little in imitation of someone else. "it's been eight days and i still haven't re-calibrated. my. puzzles!" He settles back into his usual habitual slouch, then winks at her, adding: "even i can only get out of it for so long. don't worry, it'll be safe. we still have time."

It isn't time for it to stop being safe yet.

[lostlegacy]

Okay, so this is hand-holding for Sans, the same way Sophie holds Gee Girl's hand all the time. She can live with it.

She's not sure who he's imitating, but it's funny enough for her to giggle. "What kinda puzzles?"

Are they any good?

[lostlegacy]

Sophie gives him an unimpressed look. How can she have known what they were looking for if he hadn't told her yet?

She's quickly distracted, though, by what he's holding. "Are they any good?"

They look kind of hard to eat.

[antitemporal]

He stops sharply in his tracks as the child turns around. They look so bewildered that even Sans-Serif finds himself doubting what he's just done, even as he stares down at their joined hands and sees that they are touching each other. Did he do something wrong? Why is everyone else walking through...

Through...

He lifts his gaze to them once more, just in time to watch that plume of smoke torn easily asunder. Does the human have a name? They must have a name. Even he has a name. Sans-Serif frowns to himself. He can't remember it, either. But that doesn't matter. There's a lot of things he doesn't know.

But he still knows they're important. It's still safest that they stay together. He smiles at them, hesitant but sympathetic, even if the look doesn't entirely hide the fear he feels.

"...you don't know where they are either, do you?" Carefully, he reaches out for their other hand. "that's okay...w-we can look together. we'll both be safe, when we find them."

[sansational]

Gaster doesn't look up from his side as Frisk calls out. He's still bent over the numbers, muttering to himself even as they twist and writhe on the screen, even as he lines try to creep their way out before he smacks them forcibly back into place. Maybe he doesn't hear or maybe he just can't keep up long enough to notice. He certainly doesn't even seem to notice the other doors.

Getting any sort of sense of which door leads where probably isn't helped by the noises that are audible from the other side. There's laughter behind one and the sound of a monster dying behind the other and a roar behind the third and someone is crying behind another...

"doesn't matter," Sans says, from just behind Frisk. "we all get to the same place in the end. have you seen my brother?"

He's gone the second they turn around, though. He's gone, and so is Gaster. But the machine in the room beyond is quiet and dark. The Sans on the operating table is no longer struggling. The occasional shuddering twitch keeps him from being entirely motionless.

Just in case Frisk doesn't want to risk trying any of the doors set into the wall, what appears to be a dog door of sorts has appeared in the protective glass of the window.

[lovetheme]

"No...no, not always. I met you someplace else not long ago. I met you when--when..." But Lucas' voice trails off, because suddenly he finds that he can't really remember either. Not while this cavern and its frightening inhabitants stretch out before them, dark and endless and waiting, snuffing out any memory of brighter things. (He's sure they can't have been here all the time, though. If they had been, then...then....)

He falls quiet, letting Sans speak up again at length. It's true--they really can't hide, he doesn't think. But Sans reaches to take his hand, and even if it's only for a moment, that's an immensely surprising thing. It's an unusually small and bony sort of grip, not quite like anything else he's ever felt before...but Lucas also can't remember the last time he held anybody's hand at all, be it a human's or a skeleton's.

Not since Mom.

He doesn't let go until Sans does, and stands up when Sans does as well, keeping close. Lucas stares at him--he can't help it--he's pretty sure he's never seen Sans this scared before. This is the same Sans with a penchant for sweets buffet parties and terrible puns...but then, Lucas supposes, people can be made up of a lot of different feelings. Even skeletons. A great sadness fills his heart, at this thought.

He steps beside Sans, frowning out at the roaming shadows in the distance with a bit more resolve, even if the cold dread still lingers on the back of his neck. "Yes. We'll go together. Things are a little better when you're not all alone. So, no matter what--let's not get separated, okay?"

[sansational]

Scant seconds before their hands and make contact, time slows for a moment. Sans slides through the air like oil through water. He reappears safely out of reach again, untouched. "nope." Instead, the child will find themselves faced with a blaster that fires a beam as big as their body and bright as the sun at them. For all the flash, it still only does another point.

He knows that now is the point where he should start in on his usual speech. In fact, he's probably overdue. But somehow, when he reaches for the words, they slide away from him as deftly as he does away from the human. That's...strange. And wrong. And annoying. But Sans supposes he still has more important things to worry about.

"come on. if you're that desperate for a do-over, you could at least do me the favor of quitting, instead of making me do your job for you."

[sansational]

Sans looks round at Lucas sharply, when he speaks. He sucks in a breath and for a moment, just a moment, the lights come back on in his eyesockets, like a toy that hasn't quite run out of batteries yet.

Because yes, things are always better when you aren't alone. And it's always been so, so easy for Sans to trick himself into thinking that he is alone, not least because people who make those kinds of promises to him tend to die.

"no matter what," he agrees, staring out fixedly at the way ahead. After a wavering moment of hesitation, Sans adds: "that's a promise." If he's the one who has to die this time...well, that would at least make a nice change of pace.

But Lucas is a child and Lucas is...a brother. He isn't Sans', but he's someone's, and that's still important. So Sans manages to force himself to lead the way out of their hiding place. Even at a slow shuffle, there's no way to move entirely silently through the gleaming water all around them. They can only hope that they're nevertheless quiet enough to remain unheard beneath the whisper of the flowers and the shadows still calling out for Sans. It inches higher and higher the further they go, up and over their legs until it laps around their waists.

"Si-Re, Si-Re, Si-Mi, Si-Mi..." A tiny monster, shaped rather like a fish, goes swimming through the air scant feet away from the two of them. It's a rather pretty song, if soft and hesitant. Even then, there should be no way for it to even be able to sing with its jaw cut open and gaping wide like it is. Sans stops dead in his tracks, staring fixedly at it, and tugs on Lucas to make sure he holds still, too.

After a minute, the ghost swims on, staring around but not seeing either of them, and Sans lets out a tiny breath. When he speaks, it's still in nothing more than a whisper.

"have you ever wondered why things...work out, the way they do?"

And A because they both probably need it

[sansational]

It's probably not all that strange, to hear Sans' voice coming from the phone when Sans himself is standing beside them. He did once chime in on a debate about color names between Undyne and Papyrus when he was not only not in the same room, but not even in the same area of the Underground.

All those voices, all his friends...he doesn't even know where to start.

But that also means that there are no wrong answers.

"hm...let's go see how toriel's doing. i'm feeling pretty lucky today, so maybe she might even have a pie in the oven waiting for us."

[dustless]

Excuse them. Frisk doesn't just quit. And they have no reason to. They'll have to get past him to save everyone, after all.

They make to talk again; they fail again, but they manage to let loose a snarl as their teeth bare.

Fine, if he dodges everything, and they can't even ACT with words, they'll just go.

Footsteps echo as they hurtle down the golden hall, making as if to grab him again--but as soon as he dodges, they just keep going, smashing into whatever else he tries to throw at them with another round of growling.

[dustless]

There will be no warning before he's in their arms, held tight against their chest as they tremble. The child doesn't know who they are, but that's alright, they'll follow this skeleton who knows they're there and can even touch them anywhere in the universe if it means they aren't left alone.

They step back, not letting go of his fingerbones, and point towards the stairs downwards questioningly. The subway's a good way to go anywhere in the city, after all.

[dustless]

"Why? Why when things go so bad?" they ask the Sans that isn't there, their voice a frustrated echo. Things are what they are, things can get better, but that doesn't mean they care for when things go wrong.

Frisk only thinks to answer when they're shoving the flap of the dog door open. "Papyrus is okay. He's waiting outside, just like everyone," they tell the Sanses, and clamber through.

They're over the table with no memory of walking there, fumbling with the restraints. The DT Machine snaps at their head, and some of their hair falls onto their hands and Sans' bones.

The straps are too tight. They can't work them open. They scowl down at it, then glance around for something sharp.

;w;b

[dustless]

"Hope it isn't snail."

They think about calling the river person, but that'll be too long, they think, so they grab Sans' hand instead and drag him along until they hit a doorway. "Shortcut," they say brightly, and they're standing in front of her cute little house in the RUINS.

"Mooom!" They kick through the leaves strewn across the path.

"Just a moment, my child," Toriel's voice comes from the living room. "I am working on something nice. If you wait, I am sure you and your friend will enjoy it very much!"

"I bet it is pie," they whisper to Sans out the side of their mouth.

[dustless]

"Yeah! It does that sometimes. Not all the time. You're lucky!"

It slows to a stop in front of Gerson's shop. He waves at them cheerfully, a cup of Sea Tea balanced on the back of his other hand.

As soon as they step off, the dog boat is suddenly docked in a way that it can push its wooden head against Sophie's legs.

A :'>

[dustless]

Frisk crosses their arms. "And who's time is he wasting, again?" Their tone is cold, hiding a layer of bewilderment. Something is wrong.

(It's too bad they can never tell when a dream's a dream.)

They push their way past the scientists, their too-big labcoat dragging against the floor, and follow a few paces behind the pair.

>:3c

[exuviiated]

Aaron looks slightly miffed that someone so small is there with them, even if they do have their own uniform-- they look happy, anyways, so... no use causing a fuss over it.

He might seem like the only solid thing there; everyone and everything else seems fuzzy and out of focus.

"...hey."

[regalduchess]

The kittens clamber over themselves to get to her, still completely silent; as they get closer, Sophie will be able to hear mewing from the tiny kittens.

Duchess is up on the chair, taking the respite to nap.

a

[buttercup_eater]

Chara watches the scene spread out around them in silence, at first. They recognize Sophie, and Grune, although nobody else seems familiar, and they recognize that this is probably some sort of family gathering.

Nobody seems to be bothered by Chara's presence and in fact, Chara doesn't even realize they're actually physically present in the area, until Grune suddenly turns and addresses Chara.

Grune will see Chara's eyes widen and blink rapidly. When the child responds, their tone is cautious, and they shift on the blanket as if they're considering bolting.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

[dustless]

"Hey!"

Maybe that's a little too enthusiastic. This is an important place, clearly, and they probably have an important job. After all, they have goggles. That's pretty scientific.

"What're we doing now?"

ugly laughter

[lovetheme]

Doesn't have a twin? There's a short, audible gasp from everyone in the cafe.

The jukebox abruptly stops playing its music. The ambient movement of all the customers still. And every head turns to stare at Frisk, including Lucas's, his expression absolutely mortified.

A stricken silence stretches for a few too-long moments.

The Pigmask lets go of Lucas' arm, drawing back a step--maybe because Frisk's pushing worked, or maybe because he simply doesn't need to grab it anymore. "Well, I mean...I guess he doesn't have a twin anymore. But I wasn't going to say that."

Lucas steps away from him, still shaking his head a little. He stares down at the floor. "We're going to the elevator," he mumbles into the silence, and he glances up to Frisk for just a moment, expression unreadable, before he starts towards the second waitress's counter. There's a pair of elevator doors identical to the ones they'd just stepped out of behind her, sliding open as they approach.

The waitress fidgets, and moves aside. "Don't hang around behind the counter. You'll kick up the mold spores," she warns them weakly. Lucas moves to the elevator without looking at her. And every other face in the cafe follows Frisk as they cross the room, still staring.

oh jeez

[dustless]

Frisk shrinks, figuratively and literally. They're already not very tall, but everyone staring at them are suddenly towering, looking down on them.

They follow Lucas silently. Their feet sink into the floor, making it hard, or maybe it's the weight of all the eyes.

Anymore.

When they step into the elevator, they crouch down on the floor. Hiding. Trying to hide, even though they can't.

There are buttons now. Except when they glance at them, they discover they're camera lenses that whir harshly as they focus in on Frisk.

[lostinmyway]

She shakes her head and smiles. "Oh, no. You're my guest. Of course you're supposed to be here."

"Pass the cutlery?" the young woman with the blond pigtails asks. She holds out her hand.

u tried frisk...u tried......

[lovetheme]

Lucas is silent as the elevator begins moving again, in an ambiguously maybe-up-maybe-down stomach-lurching fashion that fills the small space with its oppressive hum again. He hasn't turned around towards the doors yet, but stands and stares at the back of the elevator instead for a long moment. His breathing is a little funny. His grip has slackened on the baseball bat so much that it's just about to slip out of his hand entirely.

But after a few moments he seems to pull himself together, with some visible effort. A long, deep breath exhaled with a sigh--and then he turns around, blinking down to find Frisk crouching on the floor behind him. The buttons catch his attention, and Lucas frowns at them.

"Stop that," he mutters, poking at one of the cameras. (Poking at himself, a little, for letting it get that bad--no excuse for that. It's not very fair to Frisk at all.) The lenses recede back into the wall a little, reluctant to disappear entirely but apparently chastened enough for the moment; and then Lucas crouches down beside Frisk, setting the baseball bat on the floor between them for now.

"...Sorry." He folds his arms around his knees. "I know you didn't mean it like that."