skelepun: ([sans] 35)
Sans ([personal profile] skelepun) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2016-02-10 04:30 pm

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

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! )
neveroutwrenched: (Default)

[personal profile] neveroutwrenched 2016-02-26 08:43 am (UTC)(link)
[Ratchet stares at Sans, his expression rigid, caught somewhere in that worse place between anger and hurt. Fine.

Fine. ]


Glad one of us can still make jokes. [It's said with as much venom as he can muster, which, all said and done...isn't that much. He's tired of being angry. It's exhausting. The tension he'd been carrying in his shoulders since he'd walked in is seeping out, and all the confrontation is gone from his expression as he turns away from Sans.]

I'll see you later.

[Not so much a promise as a noncommittal stopgap. What else was he supposed to say? It felt wrong to leave it like that - accomplishing worse than nothing - but he does anyway.]