[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

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."

[lets_see_what_happens]

Gregor frowns, but he looks frustrated rather than irritated.

"Nothing at all? Not about where they grew up or how, or what their family life was like? Any information you have would be helpful."

[skelepun]

The third degree wasn't unexpected, but Sans nevertheless seems wary at this line of questioning. There's a fresh caginess to him when he finally does answer, his perpetual grin dull around the edges.

"They're very... determined." A beat, as he went to buff his nonexistent nails. The mood lightens as if a switch has been flipped. "Why're you so curious?"

[lets_see_what_happens]

A soft laugh puffs from Gregor's lips and one hand comes up unbidden to touch the still-fading bruises at his jaw and cheek, his eyes narrowing slowly at Sans' hesitation.

"I... gathered that much, yes. We had an extremely interesting conversation while they were in the hold, and I was wondering if an outside perspective might shed some light on it."

[skelepun]

Ah. Well that explained it. People got bruises all the time aboard the Moira, especially with Emiri still so close behind them. The subconscious touches to his face told more of a story than the bruises did, and Sans honestly couldn't call himself surprised.

"Well, whatever they told you, it was probably more informative than I could be. I don't know who they are, I just know what they're capable of."

[lets_see_what_happens]

Gregor lets his hand fall away from his face, his eyes narrowing on Sans slowly.

"And what is that, exactly?" he asks softly.

[skelepun]

With a quirk of his browbone, Sans looks directly at Gregor's bruise.

"I think you know." His tone is light and conversational, but there's an edge that's new -- caught between amusement and something far darker. "But believe it or not, their violent streak isn't the most dangerous thing about 'em."

[lets_see_what_happens]

"Oh?" Gregor's own gaze sharpens--there's no pretense of polite conversation in him now as his spine straightens, drawing up to his full height and watching Sans intently. "And what is the most dangerous thing about them, Sans?"

[skelepun]

"Well, y'know how kids are." Sans' grin goes wider, soaked in his own private joke. There's something almost angry there, underneath all the casual airs. Mean.

"They're very, very determined."