[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, 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

[breakin_ur_lore]

[That's...well, not exactly what he was expecting, but he's not actually sure if Sans owns anything else, so.]

Sure.

[He almost asks if there's a specific one he wants, but...maybe let's not make this weirder than it already is.

It doesn't take too long to get down to the brig, with a bottle in hand. He hasn't had a chance to look around down here yet, and it's...as creepy as he was expecting. At least it's easy to find Sans.

He's not sure how they should approach this meeting. And he feels oddly bad for not bringing him more than just a bottle of ketchup.]

[skelepun]

[If Med'an was feeling guilty, Sans' reaction would hopefully put a stop to that. The man is practically overwhelmed at the familiar red bottle, grinning with genuine relief.

He doesn't have a problem, don't be ridiculous.]

Aw man, you are a lifesaver. The food down here's practically inedible, and that's coming from a guy who lives with my bro's cooking.

[breakin_ur_lore]

[HE'S NOT SURE IF THIS IS HELPING OR NOT HELPING SANS. Should a prisoner be grinning while in prison? Well, is there a reason they shouldn't, if their roommate is doing them a favor? But should they be more somber, after having killed someone in an admittedly sort-of-justifiable fight?

There are many problems going on here. Many awkward problems.

He passes it over, unable to smile back.]

Is it different food from the mess hall?

....Are there guards? [Belatedly, he realizes that sounds suspicious, but his obvious uncomfortableness with the situation probably diffuses that. He's not here to break Sans out. He's just....trying to figure all of this out.]

[skelepun]

Probably not, but it's not any I'd ever pick for myself. [Sans winks, still seemingly unfazed. Hold or no hold, it's easy to not care that much about what happens to you when you don't think much of it is going to stick.] I don't think people care much who visits or who doesn't.

... You should probably keep anything you're bringing under wraps, though. [A beat.] Not so sure if they search or not. I've never had the occasion to come down here before now.