[open] do you know why the body is a prison?

[skelepun]

Who: Sans and YOU! Open to literally everyone
When: Between this and the final judgment call on this.
Where: The Hold.
What: There's a skeleton in the dungeon, come let him rattle his bones at u
Warnings: Probably some mention of murder/death/etc! But mostly pretty tame, I imagine. Will edit if that changes.


The hold was incredible. Three solid walls, one semi-solid wall, a bench-bed hybrid that wrecked havoc on his back, and all the down time a skeleton could ask for. It was perfect. The best vacation he's ever had.

It'll be a real bummer once all of it goes away again.

Whatever the kid is up to, they're biding their time. And the few times a stray unpleasant thought passed through his skull, Sans is able to wave them away easily enough. He didn't care for thinking about Chara's dead body, so he didn't think about it. The worrying notion that, perhaps, this reality experienced time differently from what he knew...

Again: not thinking about it. The perfect cure, really.

Of course, he couldn't exactly stop people from visiting him here. With news spreading throughout the ship of what happened, more and more people were reaching out to him with why spelled out across their furrowed brows. Sans wished he could help them, sincerely. It would be a load off both their minds.

Too bad the answer was just too damn huge.

( ooc: feel free to visit sans in the hold any time, either before or after your character has 'cast their vote (or not)' on his fate. woo! )

Comments

before!

[seeingscarlet]

[This time Wanda takes no pleasure from being here in her official capacity. She's wearing one of her Emirian dresses this time instead of going for the intimidation factor - she can get in his head anyway, so there's no point.

And it's Sans. This whole mess seems...somewhat out of character.

Judging by the face at the door, Wanda's running on fumes. She manages a weak, half-hearted smile.]

I heard you had a bad day.

[skelepun]

[Well, if it isn't the determination mage. And she's looking... Decidedly more official than Sans remembered her as. It's a cold comfort, but Sans feels a little relieved she looks tired rather than vengeful. None of this would matter for long, but it would be nice to avoid uncomfortable discussions in the long run.]

Eh, I've had worse. [And, cheerfully:] You know they feed you in here? It's like room service.

[seeingscarlet]

Sans... [She sighs heavily. This is a lot harder when you feel like you ought to start at anger but can't.]

What happened? Was it another accident? [No, she doesn't need him to tell her, but Wanda will grant him this small courtesy.]

after, finely diced hearts on the menu tonight

[gainedlove]

It had taken a while for Frisk to be coaxed back out of the mess hall in their shocked state; longer still to rouse them from flinging themself against that mental brick wall that seemed to separate them from their FILE. It's nearly half a day before Frisk makes their way down to the hold, their stomach tied up in knots from tension, grief, and a horrible dread.

Compared to their explosive entrance when Chara had been held here, one could be easily forgiven for missing the small child slipping inside this time. Each step is slow, hesitant, and though their vision is blurred with tears Frisk's eyes remain riveted upon the skeleton sitting so nonchalantly in his cell. Stopping a few feet away from the bars (it means nothing, even if he didn't have shortcuts the bones can easily make it through) Frisk tries to speak, but all that comes out is a strangled whimper.

If this is what leaving the loop meant, they would rather live through the Underground a thousand more times than remember any of this.

[skelepun]

[Needless to say, since spotting them across the Mess Hall, Sans expected this. Whether it was in some attempt to taunt him or not, he couldn't know. Time bore out, and Sans rested comfortable in the understanding that he had no idea why the kid did what they did. He would probably never fully know.

The fact that they were here, now, looking at him with an expression that didn't fit against the death mask Chara left seared into his skull, made Sans even more uneasy. His eye sockets were hollow when he looked up.]

Hey, kid. What's wrong, you look like you've seen a skeleton.

[pleasereset]

The news of Chara's death came to Asriel like a recurring nightmare. He didn't want to believe it when he heard the message on his MID - and for a while he tried different ways to make himself believe otherwise. The death was faked, maybe Chara started a fight and decided to reset. It's not like he hadn't done the same before, especially when it came to Sans.

But after hopeless searching, Chara was nowhere in sight.

Asriel still didn't believe they were gone. They couldn't. He just got them back.

He wanted to curl up and scream. It was all too overwhelming, too heartbreaking to relive something like this all over again. He didn't want to be here, he didn't ask for any of this. And part of him just wishes he could've stayed in the ruins like he was supposed to.

It takes a lot of courage to work up going to the hold. But soon enough, the small monster passes the row of cells until he finds Sans. He doesn't say anything - his voice is firmly stuck in his throat. He's trembling a little, from a mix of anger, fear, and bitterness that he doesn't really know how to express.

Finally, he finds his voice.

"I-I..." There's a voice that sounds a little like a squeak and a whimper, before Asriel puts a little more force into what he says. "I need to ask you something."

[skelepun]

Even for a guy who relished having nothing to do, the hold could get a little boring. After counting all the rivets in the walls (104) and the small imperfections in the bars (52), Sans found himself with very little to do except sleep. So sleep he did, quite frequently, and he was well on his way to another nap when the small voice wrenched him back.

Oh. The little boss monster. The prince. What was he doing here?]

... Huh? I mean, sure kid, shoot.

After Voting

[takeitslow]

[Peter's shown up with a broom, a few rags sticking out of his pocket. The official excuse for coming was to do his job, but the way he's just dragging the broom behind him shows how little he's focused on the charade. That and how he flops into the floor outside the cell, cross-legged like a kid expecting a story.]

Dude. Heard you went all murdery. Kind of thought all the human hunting stuff you were spewing was some kind of joke.

[skelepun]

[If Sans is at all bothered by Peter's presence and questions, it doesn't show. Hell, he laughs, sounding very much like someone not locked away for murder.]

Welp, now you know the dark truth. This is what happens to naughty boys and girls who don't laugh at my jokes.

[The unintentional truth in that is enough to make Sans laugh again, a little softer.]

AFTER THE VOTE

[neveroutwrenched]

Ratchet goes back and forth on whether or not to visit Sans - to talk to Sans - several times before finally making up his mind. Once, quite literally, getting all the way back to Moro deck before changing his mind again. It was a complicated issue. Too complicated, he didn’t know how to even begin to navigate it, but in the end, he figures he owes it to Sans to at least say something. His negligence to so much as even weigh in on the ship’s vote was still hanging over him, stale and unpleasant.

What had rattled him the most had been Chara. Chara, who was small, and young and obviously confused and scared, but also violent. He can’t say he couldn’t imagine it at all, because you could see the violent streak on Chara a mile away, like a smear of phosphorescent under black light. You’d have to be blind to not see the anger, but...he hadn’t expected anyone to trigger it. Not like that. They were a powder keg, a volatile chemical, a chain reaction that had moved from person to person, chaotic. Chara had attacked - adeptly, from what he’d heard - multiple people on board the ship. The same kid who’d wanted to talk about aliens in the mess hall.

Standing outside the hold, second thoughts come swinging back around. It might be that Sans would rather not have a million people come speak to him, in tears, or in anger or demanding answers, or just for the spectacle. He doesn’t want to add to that.

But he couldn’t just avoid Sans forever, either, so there wasn’t any point to waiting. He takes a breath, stepping into the hold, and when he looks into Sans’ cell, his arms are crossed, tense, and he doesn’t look up.

He hadn’t planned far enough ahead to know what to say. He wanted to ask why, of course, but it was obvious Sans hadn’t wanted to explain that. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, when you knew that their whole race had been nearly wiped out by humans, why that might be the case. But there were dozens of humans on this ship, many of them far more dangerous than one child with a screwdriver and bad mood.

He realises he hasn’t said anything yet.

“I...I liked Chara.”

Great opener.

Ratchet’s not sure who he’s stupider for trusting in this scenario, but it was inevitably going to be someone. Even after everything that had happened on the Neheda he hadn’t learned anything. And then there was the nagging memory, like a needle in the back of the neck, omnipresent but red hot ever since he’d gotten the MID message, that he was the one Sans should feel stupid for not seeing the obvious about.

[skelepun]

[The trial was its own kettle of unpleasant fish, and one Sans regarded with equal parts bemusement and dismissiveness. Judgment was an area he knew a thing or two about, or at least enough to know when it was utterly pointless.

Suffice to say, with a reset looming large like a shoe floating over their heads, Sans leaned towards pointless.]

Heh. Well, no crime in that, pal. [He flashed Ratchet a wide, lazy grin.] There's no accounting for shit taste.

after casting vote, before everything's decided;

[niffin]

It's late, by the arbitrary count of some distant system's clock. They're far from Emiri's sun now, and the stars outside the windows grow huge and bright and pass by again with an unnerving frequency that slips between the easy recognition of night and day.

But it's late. And for that, she hopes to find him without other visitors. Alice leans up against the door, head knocking quietly against the glass.

"Hey," After the holes in this story, she's not expecting explanations. But there's a question or two that still matter, even to those without affection for either party. "Sans, right? We've got a bone to pick."

A small gesture of conciliation; she's noticed the proclivity for puns.

[skelepun]

[Between the knocks and the jokes, she's well on her way to being the most welcome visitor Sans has entertained over the last few days. Chuckling, he even went so far as to sit up from his makeshift bed before shooting her a quick, toothy grin.]

Well far be it from me to stand in your way. [With a shrug, his eye sockets creased a little at the edges.] But tibia honest, I'm a little light on conversation topics.

after failing to cast vote

[tigermillionaire]

Steven is not one to give up on things, which is probably the only reason he's setting himself up for what could prove to be a thoroughly awkward and disappointing encounter. He's been thinking about what he wanted to say to him ever since the trial - rolling it over in his mind in the kind of obsessive way you do when you have to wait to take action. Calling Sans out in public obviously wasn't going to do anything, so he could only hope that later, privately, it would be different.

He is so serious about coming down to the hold that he walks fully on his hind legs for it, as if that provides him with some additional dignity. Really, though, he's just a kid that's puffing himself up for a confrontation. Steven is far from comfortable with conflict, especially with people he likes, and so it's taken some working up to.

So, naturally, when he actually gets to Sans's cell, he just kind of blurts it all out suddenly and without preamble.

"Sans...you...I get why this happened, probably, but what I don't get is why you're being such a jerk about it!" The little nymph is flush in the face with anxiety and frustration. "I thought...why are you acting like this?"

Re: after failing to cast vote

[skelepun]

The visit is expected. The awkwardness is expected. The little monster's disapproval is expected.

But hell if Sans isn't thrown for a loop when Steven actually speaks. The kid isn't wrong of course, but being called on it from the least likely source is... Well, it's surprising. Maybe Sans wasn't paying as close attention as he thought.]

Uh... Sorry, kiddo. Those are the breaks sometimes. [And then, a little kinder:] This story's a little to big for you, kiddo. Maybe another time.

after!

[justabit]

[He didn't actively seek Sans out, just kind of... stumbled across the skeleton while wandering around the ship out of boredom. But now that he's spotted Sans in his little cell, he gets a grin on his face and moseys on over there, tapping on a nearby wall to get his attention.]

Hey bonehead, h-heard you killed some poor defenseless child. [he is here to help]

[skelepun]

[Rick gets a grin back, as lazy and uninvolved as ever. To look at him, you'd think he was just visiting as well.]

At least one part of that is right, yeah. I'll let you guess which, you're a smart guy.

after;

[lets_see_what_happens]

Gregor comes in to see Sans stretched out on his cot, his face pale and his lips thin. He doesn't really waste any time stilling right next to Sans' cell at a sort of semi-parade rest, his face calm but his eyes intense.

"Sans," he says, his quiet voice calm and even. "I need you to tell me everything you can about Chara, please."

Re: after;

[skelepun]

It was Miles'... Brother? Cousin? Who could keep that family straight. Sans vowed to pay closer attention to the interweavings of that particular family in the next reset.

"I don't really see what there is to tell. I don't know much about 'em."

before the vote/after the thread with Lara

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

Some small part of Papyrus held out hope that he was being pranked again. Sans loved to tease him, after all, and he was no stranger to being the butt of another childish joke. But Sans was just a fun-loving oddball, he wasn't cruel and this wasn't funny. And Papyrus knew, no matter what, that Sans wasn't a bad person. Even if he somehow managed to gain a little LOVE, there was still love in him. As crushed down and muted as it sometimes was these days.

It was well past bedtime when Papyrus arrived in the hold with a book tucked under one arm. And sure enough, there was Sans. The last confirmation that the worst had really happened.

Not that he was at all interested in talking about it.

"Hello, brother!" He couldn't quite bring himself to be happy, but he still tried to sound brighter for Sans's sake. "They told me you'd be taking your naps down here for now, so I came to do things properly!"

[skelepun]

The familiar clomp of boots and rattle of bones is enough to make Sans wince -- the most emotion he's shown since the night he was thrown in here.

It was inevitable. He told Lara to contact him, after all. And from the cheer in his voice, she probably did a good job. Of course, no matter how gentle the delivery, the message was the message. Papyrus' usual cheer was dampened, and Sans hates himself just a little bit for being the cause.

Of course, they weren't complete opposites. Right on cue, Sans injects his own voice with a brightness he doesn't truly feel. Brothers to the core.

"Heh, wow, Pap. Ever prepared." Sans shifts up from where he was laying down, bones creaking a bit. "You, uh, you don't have to do that."

when they're collecting the votes

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

When the news finally reached J, she first thought it to be some kind of joke. A very bad joke and very un-Sans like. True, Sans was creepy and gross but hell, he was also good-for-nothing fucker who was too lazy to clean after his own mess let alone kill someone.

But then she saw how others talked about it and how the captains started to collect votes, letting them decide what his punishment should be-- and that's when things got complicated for her. The three options that they were given seemed rather merciful to be punishment for a murder. J was rather surprised that no one demanded Sans to be thrown out of airlock or something alike. But then again, it was self-defence-- it was to protect someone Sans loved. But murder is still a murder. Right?

The more she thought about it and what she'd vote the more confused and lost she felt, once again letting her thoughts to wander to memory of her father's death, her own involvement in it. Hadn't she also acted out of kindness and love and only caused so much hurt. And then there was the question, for which she'll never receive answer to: Did mother pull the trigger to protect or to hurt?

J tried to shake it off, this wasn't about her but about Sans and him facing the consequence of his actions. But she couldn't quite do it, to cast a vote what to do with him when her feelings and thoughts about right and wrong were still clouded in a thick mist.

So, To get a some kind of conclusion to this situation she knew she had to see him. It was also to sort out her feelings about him in general, as they'd probably would still have to keep sharing the room together even after this all is over.

It was very late to evening, nearly night, when she entered to the hold without even bothering to knock. She knew that she was probably the last person who'd Sans expect to see visit him, after all on would think that she'd enjoy every second of not having him around. So far, she's never showed much kindness or warmth to Sans and even now she only gives him a rather cold and silent stare, letting him to say the first words.

[skelepun]

If Papyrus hadn't already come and gone with his nightly story, Sans would have expected him instead. Hell, he would expect Lara before he expected J. As roommates, the pair didn't always see eye to eye. And that wasn't a reference to their disparate heights, either.

Squinting at her, Sans raises one hand up in halfhearted greeting (or maybe preemptive self-defense? You never knew with J.)

"Uh... yo? You miss me that much?"

after, MID text

[breakin_ur_lore]

[He hasn't known Sans for very long, but he'd seemed very likable. Slept often, seemed pretty messy, had a thing for bad jokes - it was fun rooming with him. Things around him - refugees, medical emergencies, children being kidnapped, being in space - were chaotic and stressful, but ending the day with one or more roommate present had quickly become a comfort.

So the news that perhaps one or more of his roommates are not quite so likable - it shakes him. He supposes that he should've not assumed the best of them so quickly, but that thought is depressing, and despite it Sans' absence is still unsettling. He attends the trial both because he knows the skeleton and because he feels that it is somehow mandatory for him - he's a member of the crew, one that will need to know everything about everyone if he's going to perform his duties well - and spends the night wondering why and what are we going to do next?. He was going to have to talk to Sans again eventually, wasn't he? And he wants to talk to Sans again eventually, but also doesn't, at least not under these circumstances...

The day after the trial, he finally figures out what to say. Or not say. The answer is "everything related to killing people".]

Let me know if you need anything from our room.

[skelepun]

[The buzz of his MID isn't all that surprising -- it buzzes often, for reasons completely outside him -- but the personalized message certainly is. Frowning, Sans takes a moment to tie the name to his new roommate.

After all, he hasn't called Med'an by his real name since they were first introduced.]

if you could spare a bottle of ketchup from my stash, i certainly wouldn't say no